EVENT #008 AFTERMATH LOG

[larkers]

WHO: The Displaced!
WHERE: Lots of places—potentially? Mostly New Amsterdam as the focus.
WHEN: March 4, 2512
WHAT: Unlocking of the gates and the game's fast travel network.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Uninvited visions.

> EVENT #008 AFTERMATH LOG

The vision itself is almost instantaneous once the last of the four gates activates, hitting the Displaced no matter where they are. It doesn't matter where that individual Displaced is: if they're in New Amsterdam, at one of the gates, or sleeping, they'll see the same vision. A flash of seven colors (red, blue, black, gold, orange, red, and white) followed by an image of a nomadic people heading up a long, stone bridge that appears to be naturally occurring. At the end of the bridge is an open, lit-up triangle that acts as a gateway, inviting them inside. Then there is another flash, followed by the nomads walking through the gate and ending up in a different, new location. And then another.

Any understanding of this vision isn't immediate. The answers won't be apparent until later, when there is an innate understanding of what they've learned and what they've unlocked for themselves. The world has opened up to the Displaced, and in some ways, it's there for them to access and even take for themselves if they so choose.

After the vision ends, any of the Displaced located at the four ruins will immediately begin to glow in all blue before they fade out of view and find themselves crammed into a new location. The relocation is immediate, and if anyone checks a map via their neural implant to see where they are geolocation wise, they'll be able to tell that they're underneath New Amsterdam. For anyone who's been in the underground cave system of New Amsterdam, they may think their surroundings are familiar, if not the same. After all, this area has been locked away for a very long time.

One more thing is apparent: they've landed on another form of gate that needs to be unlocked. After the numerous trials and puzzles the Displaced have faced, what's one more?

◉ The puzzle to solve is right beneath the feet of the Displaced on a bronze-colored mechanism. At the center of the mechanism are multiple overlapping triangles, and on the outside, there are five separated triangles that sit individually.

◉ Solving the puzzle involves connecting a daisychain of Displaced and having five key focal points step on the triangles at once.

◉ Once the puzzle unlocks, there will be another understanding: that what they saw in the vision belongs to them. Any of the Displaced outside of the caves will know what it means.

◉ With that work done, it's time to explore. The underground cave system of New Amsterdam is half-inhabited by the sprawling megacity, and half-uninhabited and untouched. This part of the cave system was locked away for centuries, and just like the other ruins, there are some relics and lost items from the past. The eras vary: some are early medieval burial sites with items like brittle, forgotten swords and shields, while others are crosses and manuscripts that refer to this location as the center of the Holy Roman Empire.

◉ The manuscripts are a mix of imagery from Catholicism and the same, omnipresent geometric imagery.

◉ The way out of the cave system involves touching a hand to a handprint alongside what appears to be a door. This print will only appear to the Displaced, so they will be able to move in and away from this location largely unobserved.

> ON THE JOB FROM 9 TO 5

Now that the gates trip is done and the Displaced have new answers—if potentially unhelpful ones, depending on their perspective—it's time to return to their lives. Surprisingly, New Amsterdam has no festivals going on, as if it's time to now be hungover from a February that involved nonstop partying. The city has been cleaned up and everyone's returning to their jobs as if the city around them is not in a constant state of revelry.

◉ Ah, it's time to return to work! No one is required to lose their jobs, but it might take a bit of groveling for the Displaced to return to where they were working before. (With the exception of the Red Wings bar. Poor Mister Doctor Stephen Strange.) El will have sent along any excuses to any bosses who might need an explanation. Ze's used to this gig by now.

◉ What about those cities left behind? No one planned on abandoning those gates at that exact moment. They will remain open to the Displaced. Anyone who had a hotel room in New Oslo or even kept stuff stored at New Beijing will find that they can just teleport back via this new fast travel system.

◉ Though for anyone who's been dealing with tampered food, maybe it's time to go take a break. You know where's a good place to do it? The Displaced-run Red Wings bar. Ah, poor Mister Doctor Strange, at least the people coming in out of nowhere are all Displaced looking for proper food and a drink. It's time to mingle, share notes, and see what's what. Might as well get to seeing where there's overlap—and what to do next.

◉ Or it's time to explore! The world is finally open and available to one and all. Well, to one Displaced and all.

◉ The information on these gates and what they do won't immediately be available to El and Gaby. It's up to the Displaced if they decide to share with their NPC friends. (Of course, if it's mentioned via the Morningstar network, then they'll know!)

> FINAL OOC NOTES

This is meant primarily as a laid back, return to life log for the Displaced after their exciting trips around the world (and trips-to-be, most likely). Any questions about the aftermath should be directed to our aftermath questions thread!

Our CR meme will be posted on February 14th (Happy Valentine's Day!), and our arrival log for all newbies will be going up on February 15th.

Thanks again for making this a great event!

> NAVIGATION

Comments

[strove]

I think if there was a bigger threat to all of our lives, I might be better in solving the mystery itself. [Clarke reaches out to grab the bottle and pour herself another drink. One would possibly falsely assume that she has a high tolerance. She doesn't, but drinking quickly doesn't faze her ... at first. That is, the taste doesn't.]

But it may also be why I worry less.

[interminably]

Who's to say there isn't.

( There's always a threat looming on the horizon. )

[strove]

Let me guess. You're used to there being threats, too?

[Because Clarke is trying to be less about the whole "constant survival mode" deal.]

[interminably]

Would it be too hyperbolic to say, almost constantly. In some form or another.

[strove]

No. [Her expression softens as she thinks of it.] You, me—we're not the only ones. [She thinks of Damian and his brothers, as well as multiple others who are too paranoid to live comfortably here.] There are threats. The proof is in the fact that people just got taken and dragged somewhere. But—we aren't fighting to survive. It takes a while to recognize that.

[interminably]

A while for you. That's the world you left behind. A world of survival. Environmental dangers. What comes after civilization falls. I can only imagine.

[strove]

Then clarify what it is for you.

[She doesn't mean it harshly—Clarke simply wants to know what it means for him to face constant threats.]

[interminably]

It's fighting for my family, be it against whatever foe has come out of the woodwork or even our own relatives. It is life and death and kidnapping and quarter politics. Not to mention witch politics, and politics in the bayou. Factions have sprung up again, more effective this time, it seems. Or, they were. And will be again.

[strove]

[A smile creeps over her lips.]

Not so different in the end. [Time to break it down to its barest components.]

Aside from survival, things got political. When they do, you tend to have a target painted on your back. Sometimes it needs to be there.

[She raises her glass to him, as if to ask him to clink his against hers.]

Being who we were before doesn't carry the same weight here. For better or worse.

[There is a presumption of importance. Otherwise, why would there be so many mentions of politics in the first place?]

[interminably]

( This she's right about as he raises his own glass and takes a sobering sip. )

Whomever we were before coming into this ordeal, we are born anew. Some of us all over again. ( After the first time. ) I was King of New Orleans for a time.

[strove]

[Clarke debates about telling him about her being Wanheda. It's something that carries some kind of weight, something that shows her impact on her world.

Soon, not yet.

"King of New Orleans" is interesting in its own right.]

Are kings common where you come from? [A beat.] In your version of the US.

[interminably]

No, in this case they are not. In truth, I took the mantle up myself. Away from my progeny who'd taken it in my stead. It is a long, several year story, and suffice it to say I a king I am no longer.

( The explanation bears weight to it, weight he never discusses here in this reality. But it seems he's found an equal in Clarke, one he can have these kinds of conversations with. Where she can counsel him on being a father one second and drink him under the table the next. This, literally, now. )

[strove]

So, not a title you earned, but took for yourself, [she says, making sense of it out loud. That's conversation with Clarke. Sometimes she lets people see her thought processes.]

I'd ask you how you were as a leader, but I suppose the fact that you're no longer a king says everything. To some degree. Of course, with the other circumstances in play. [And there are other ones, of course.]

I never claimed my title. Not at first, anyway. But I guess you could say I earned it. The people in my world call me Wanheda—it translates to "the Commander of Death." It wasn't given lightly.

[interminably]

Of Death. A dramatic title indeed.

As a leader, I did do what had to be done. The best leaders do. It is not about being liked, or even trusted. But, being recognized. ( He's speaking from how he'd been and who he'd been, but in truth, he's sure he would make all the same choices if he were to take up any sort of mantle here. )

[strove]

It's about knowing that you'll stand up for what you've done even when someone new enters the picture and has a problem with it. Even if it isn't pretty, or isn't right in a lot of ways.

[But: it's also about seeing past that. Knowing that what is the harshest decision isn't necessarily always the right decision.]

The harder thing for me is to learn when not to do that. There's more than one way to be recognized.

[That's her entire fight these days: how to do that.]

[interminably]

And who are they to say what's right when it is us who are, Wanheda.

( Or, were for that matter. )

There is, but there is usually only the one way to get almost anyone to do anything. Especially when it is a matter of life and death.

[strove]

[Been a while since someone's used Wanheda like that. There's some comfort in it, some familiarity.

Clarke should have known that he'd take up the tradition all too easily.]

I used to think so, too, [she says gently. Josephine, who'd been in her head, had believed the same. Had been the same: clinging to life desperately. Clarke knows it's not the way to live. It's not selfish to want to live, but it is to want to live forever, choosing one life over another.

Sometimes that choice is necessary. But it's not the only choice to ever present itself.]

I'm really trying to see it differently.

[interminably]

And there are times, when it should be seen differently. But, there are countless others where the hard decisions must be made.

[strove]

It's not like that with me. [Clarke wishes that it were. That it would just be a matter of one way or another.]

I've made mistakes because of what I've told myself is the right way. I don't know if I should be glad to hear that you're able to stand by everything you've done without doubt, knowing you'd do it again, or worried. I've seen where my thinking and actions bring me if I keep it up for too long, or fall back into it. I know that doesn't need to be true for you. But it is for me.

[interminably]

It is true for me as well. I've lived a long life, Clarke. I have learned of the benefit in trusting others, trusting family, and not simply taking what I need. I backslide like anyone else. And there are techniques and avenues I will always fall back on. What's right is not always what is effective.

[strove]

I see.

[He had kept insisting, and some part of her twisted and turned unhappily.

Clarke had told herself it was always just one way. Always.]

I'm sorry. I didn't understand what you were saying.

[interminably]

There is no need for an apology here, Clarke. We are sharing - philosophies, let's call them. And drinks.

[strove]

What did it take you to learn?

[That's well enough, then. If he's willing to share, maybe he'll say more. Clarke will always test her limits either way.]

[interminably]

Who says I ever did.

( Really. Actually. Has he changed? Is it his daughter's influence? Is it wanting to be better? Is it not having a choice now? Is it having even less power? )

[strove]

What would you prefer to think?

[It sounds like it comes down to that in the end. Did Klaus learn? Has he changed? How has he managed it?

Perhaps it's a place where someone can never be satisfied, and if they are, then they haven't learned at all.]