ARRIVAL LOG 019

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: March 22
WHAT: The nineteenth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy. Further notes at the end of log.

> ARRIVAL LOG #019

Awareness comes to you in blurred snatches, cloudy fragments of sound and light, color, sensation. Hazy and difficult to grasp on to, but slowly aligning into focus. A series of regular, rhythmic beeps. A medicinal, astringent smell. The sensation of movement, a low hum and accompanying vibration under you. Your eyes are heavy, hard to keep open, but in the glimpses between slow, dark blinks you see two people in front of you: one dressed in a thick set of armor, while the other wears medical garb. Out the windshield in front, there are many tall buildings—all reaching up beyond a normal city skyline, all entirely too close to the vehicle itself.

You realize there are others next to you: all dressed the same way as you, you'll come to realize: in jeans, with a t-shirt bearing some kind of sports team logo. To your left there's an armored interior door, two more people visible, and the movement of streets passing through a windshield. You try to open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your tongue is coated in tar, and you manage nothing more than an empty parting of lips.

The vehicle lowers from its height and comes to a stop inside of an alley, with tall brick walls surrounding it. The guard opposite you stands and comes to unbuckle you from the bench, helping you to your feet. Your limbs feel wooden and heavy, slow to move. One guard opens the back of the vehicle, and the air outside feels immediately warm and dry. "Careful with your step," the guard says, helping you out. The nurse helps the others out, checking over each passenger one by one.

Once outside, you'll be able to hear some noises in the distance, which after a few seconds will be recognizable as the hum of a large crowd. There will even be loud cheers here and there, as if they're spectating some kind of event.

The main guard turns to address your entire group, and something about her bearing makes it clear she's done this before. "Now, listen to me very carefully." Your body will come to attention, immediately homing in on the words that follow, as if compelled to hang on every word. "You're going to leave this alley, and then follow my directions exactly." From there, the guard will go through a list of directions, only about five steps (round the corner, turn right, etc.). "Once you've done all that, you'll see a sign: Red Wings. Go inside and you'll make some new friends. They can help with the rest."

The guard will hop back into the van, which will rise off of the ground and disappear as soon as it arrived. Once it's gone, you'll find your legs moving almost without your permission, guiding you to follow the stops the guard laid out.

And, as promised, you'll end up outside a bar called the Red Wings.

Though entirely capable of independent action and thought, new characters will find themselves completely, unquestioningly compliant to any verbal statement which could be taken as a command or request – and that includes the message passed on from the mysterious patron.

> RED WINGS

The message from El comes the same as usual: insistent, not waiting for any active attempt to open it. Scrolling within your vision as if being written while you're reading it.

Well, some of you are going to have a group of newbies to bartend. Our newest group just got directed to the Red Wings. If anyone else wants to swing by to help get them oriented and move them to the safehouse, I'm guessing the people who are on the clock will thank you.

The Red Wings bar is in a section of the large, futuristic city that houses a sports stadium, though not so close to it that the newcomers will have to deal with dodging crowds. Red Wings is tucked away on a side street, meaning that those stumbling in won't have to worry about attracting too much attention.

Why did they get directed to a sports bar, of all places? That will become clear as soon as they start to speak to the people inside. This arrival, as it turns out, is a little different from the ones that have come before.

◉ Aesthetically, Red Wings is a retro tribute to the lost city of Detroit. It's all red neon, cars and sports memorabilia, with all fittings and decor elements physical where possible as a nod to the era. There is also some artwork dedicated to Motown and its significance within the city, and there is a section of the digital sound system for Motown.

◉ The main area is spacious, with stools at the bar and plenty of room for booths and standing space. One area is reserved for the physical darts board and pool table, which are permanent installations.

◉ There is also a function room available for private bookings and smaller events, though this is currently not quite as nicely done up as the main space.

◉ The bar has multiple neural interface screens installed throughout to make sure there's always an easy view of the game, with one larger screen set up over the bar itself for Big Game days. Unfortunately, this won't be available to the newcomers as they don't have their neural implants set up yet, but they'll be able to gather that the other people here seem to be watching a screen they can't see.

◉ Drinks include a range of the finest craft beers, popular spirits and a basic cocktail menu, but newbies won't have any money to their name just yet, so they'll have to rely on the kindness of strangers if they want something to eat or drink.

◉ Naturally, there will be some people working at the bar and others who are just there to hang out, but either way the newcomers should have plenty of people on-hand to explain the situation. With more on the way, potentially.

Further details about Red Wings and the staff can be found at this post put together by our Stephen Strange player, as he's one of the owners of the bar! Most of the information above was borrowed from this post.

Once the new characters have been oriented and calmed down as needed, they'll all be escorted by one of the established Displaced back to the safehouse. This is done for security and safety reasons.

> NEW AMSTERDAM (AND BEYOND)

Once the new Displaced have endured their four days in the safehouse, they'll have their IDs set up and will be released in this strange new world. New Amsterdam will be theirs to explore, and if they manage to get the lowdown from another Displaced who's been here longer, they may learn that they can travel even further than that.

Probably better to not get ahead of themselves, right? New Amsterdam has plenty to offer!

◉ It's Opening Day for the New Amsterdam Koniki (New Amsterdam's baseball team)! Despite the signings of the aces Jim Bridges and Osamu Kawakami, the Opening Day starter is long-time Koniki, Connor Tseng. Tseng is a finesse pitcher who's been with the Koniki through good and bad (and for the past few seasons, it's been a lot of bad). Never overpowering batters with a crazy fastball, Tseng hits his spots and is the master of the off-speed pitch. There are a mess of articles on the sports blog circuit about what message the Koniki are sending in having Tseng start the 2512 season, but most agree that it's a message to Tseng that he's still the team's leader. Bridges and Kawakami are undoubtedly more explosive, but these signings are clearly meant to build a team around their long-time ace.

Tickets to get into the Koniki's first game will be difficult to come by, selling for five and ten times too much on reseller sites. The savvy baseball fan knows that the stadium will be sold out, however, and can grab a short-term, one-day-only job to help meet the demands of Opening Day. And for anyone who's curious about the game but doesn't want to work at the stadium, it will definitely be broadcasted at Red Wings and plenty of other sports bars around the city.

The game itself will be a pitcher's duel for the first five innings between Tseng and the New Venice Gecko's ace, Jayson Soto. During the bottom of the fifth inning, rookie slugger Jiri Kim will hit a three-run homer, putting the Koniki up. Rather dramatically, the Geckos will come back in the top of the sixth, tying up the game and running Tseng off the mound. Both the Geckos and the Koniki will try to shore up the game via their bullpens. Ultimately, the Koniki will win in the bottom of the 10th inning in a walk-off fashion, with Kim hitting another home run to call it. The defense throughout the game is a mess for the Koniki, showing signs that even their new aces may struggle with that defensive backdrop.

Finally: yes, there is a designated hitter to protect pitchers.

◉ St. Patrick's Day is here! While the typical aspects of the holiday still exist, such as drinking a lot (and yes, alcohol and other drinks will be dyed green!) and getting pinched if you don't wear green, this day is also a time to remember the country of Ireland that's now under the Atlantic Ocean. The primary focus for New Amsterdam citizens is remembering the parts of Europe that were lost to the effects of climate change and the disaster of World War III.

So while there's plenty of merrymaking at various pubs, there are also neighborhood memorials set up for remembrance. There will be plenty of media coverage about this too, giving anyone new to this world a very immediate idea of the state that it's in, with a good portion of western Europe underwater.

◉ It's spring, which oddly means that fertility symbols begin to spring up around the city. They can take the form of actual symbols etched or painted onto walls, though there are also carved figurines and phallic shapes scattered around as well. (Feel free to browse here if you need ideas.)

◉ While these can be found at random around the city, they will also be associated with the shrines dedicated to the Displaced which have existed in New Amsterdam for some time now. These shrines are continuously taken down and put back up in different parts of the city. The NAPD as well as private interests seem intent on removing them for profit or controlling vandalism. Despite continuous efforts on both of their behalfs, these shrines continue to rise in number. There seems to be a cluster of them that get closer and closer to Red Wings. Candles and small offerings (flowers, dressings, and hand-made jewelry from wood and plants) can occasionally be seen near them.

◉ There will also be small spring gatherings held in parks where people will be happy to share their food and enjoy the new plants that have sprung up throughout the city. (Assuming that your allergies aren't being set off, anyway!) The Displaced are welcome to attend!

◉ On a more somber and serious note, non-violent protests have begun to spring up around the city in response to the situation on Mars. The people working on the Mars colony have been mistreated and forced into horrible conditions, and it seems more and more likely that the government is trying to keep that quiet and act as if things are better when they're really not. The protests are kept small in number by design, mainly because the people involved don't want to get immediately shut down by the NAPD -- or worse, have the UNA step in. They mainly take the form of people standing outside of campaign offices, though instead of handwritten signs, they're able to project digital versions with their implants.

Some NPC members of Morningstar who recently relocated to New Amsterdam will be involved in these protests as well. Any characters who feel strongly about this issue, want to learn more if they're new and uninformed, or who are simply interested in getting to know other Morningstar members better should feel free to participate. (Note: While we won't be able to thread out NPC interactions, feel free to use the questions thread below to discuss with us how your character would be received by these NPCs if you're interested in that!)

> SAFEHOUSE

Located under an abandoned hover-bike garage, access to the safehouse is a hatch in the floor beside a rusted set of metal shelves that used to hold tools and supplies. The immediate area is similarly abandoned: full of rundown and dilapidated warehouses and forgotten businesses, where numerous people squat in hopes of having some stability because they can't afford a place themselves. Gaby will be around, ready to greet as many of the new arrivals as she can and get them settled in. Brusque and no-nonsense, she'll be open to questions, but will advise the newcomers to ask the people who brought them in for the beginning bits of information. Newbies can also contact El through zeir inbox, if needed.

The safehouse is a large space with multiple rooms for storage, with the largest of the rooms filled with rows of basic cots set up to sleep a large amount of people. Basic, but outfitted with everything necessary for daily life. A few doors lead to back rooms for storage, medical care and a large communal bathroom, and past the long rows of cots there is a communal kitchen, fully stocked, and an eating area. Privacy is at a minimum.

◉ New characters will be asked to pick their beds, and provided with a change of (second-hand, mismatched and somewhat threadbare) clothes and basic toiletries.

◉ There is a mini-bar set up in the kitchen. The quality of the alcohol inside is akin to what someone might get from the well at a bar, but it's well-stocked. There will also be some dye set within reach of the mini-bar for anyone looking for some Irish cheer to add to their beverages. This is courtesy of Gaby, as per usual!

◉ While the kitchen has basic foods and necessities, anyone looking for a jolt of caffeine from coffee or tea will find themselves sorely lacking. The only tea present is herbal in nature, and caffeine appears to be almost nonexistent in most of the beverages lying around.

◉ Gaby will make it clear to all new arrivals that if they have any requests or queries, they should contact her or El. Either she or El will explain that they've been given a modest stipend of credits to help them get by until they can find a job. This will be enough to cover their living expenses for about a month while they hang out in the safehouse, if they're careful with budgeting.

◉ The drugs making new characters compliant will remain in their systems for a few hours after their arrival at the safehouse before finally beginning to fade. They will be gone entirely after a night's rest. In the meantime, they may want to be careful of what others say to them.

◉ New characters will be given rudimentary access to the network on arrival in the safehouse, but will not have their ID set up yet. They will be able to make posts and replies, but their messages will be anonymous and they do not have inboxes yet.

◉ New characters do not have access to the internet until their ID is setup. They only have limited access because they're present in the safehouse, but they can't surf the rest of the internet, check out Cooltalk, or watch the equivalent of Netflix until their ID is made.

◉ New characters cannot leave the safehouse at this time. The hatch is locked tight for them, making it impossible for them to get out for the next four days while they're locked inside. There won't be any immediately obvious ways to cut their way out through turning off the power.

◉ New characters will not be allowed to leave the safehouse until MARCH 26 ICLY (MARCH 23 OOCLY). These 4 days are for them to adjust, learn about the world they've arrived in from their fellows, and for El to speak with them and work on setting up their IDs.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

You're now free to post to the network and logs comms. To reiterate, your characters will have no IDs or inboxes, nor be allowed out of the safehouse until MARCH 26 ICLY (MARCH 23 OOCLY). At that point it's expected they'll have gotten a good idea of their new situation from their fellow characters, and will have discussed their background and job potentials with El in order for their false IDs to be set up.

If you have any questions or ideas about how you'd like to get your character involved in the world, please head over to the plot engagement post and drop us a comment! For questions specific to this log, there is a thread below.

Please check out our March calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month, as well as some additional notes from the mods.

Something else to keep in mind is that on Monday, March 16th we'll be putting up a Metaplot Engagement Post, which will have a focus on how to integrate all players into the metaplot as well as take suggestions on future events and the direction you'd like the game to go. This will be open to everyone in-game, old players and new players alike, so please keep an eye out for it!

As we announced here, AC will be check-in only this month due to the state of the world right now. If you've taken a hiatus, this counts as your check-in, but otherwise please feel free to relax for the rest of the month. In addition, the HMD will be moved to next month. New players accepted in March will only have to submit 10 comments across 2-4 threads for the April 2020 AC (which goes up on May 1, 2020).

> NAVIGATION

Comments

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[personalwar]

[ Jack, meanwhile, hasn't actually bothered to put any green on. He's perplexed to find that this tradition has survived the test of time, and that people in the future don't oppose the idea of pinching people at random. Thankfully, he's pretty sure that all he needs to do is give someone a mean look if they decide to get any funny ideas.

He doesn't intend to visit any of the memorials, but he ends up passing by one set up near his neighborhood while he's on the way to run some errands. He sees one man who stands out both because of his imposing figure and the fact that he's standing apart from the group with a look of utter confusion. Jack's pretty sure he saw this guy at the bar, too, which means it's a safe bet that he's Displaced.

Deciding that he has time to do a good deed for the day, Jack approaches and offers an explanation in a lowered tone. ]

Ireland doesn't exist anymore, so I guess here this holiday's taken on a different meaning.

[ Not that it's stopped people from drinking their sorrows away. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ A safe bet, indeed. Maine would kick himself if he could see how confused he looks. He spent years perfecting the fine art of showing nothing, and he'd be irritated to find that he's slipped so far out of practice. But fortunately, it's a fellow Displaced who clues him in, not someone insulted by his inappropriate expression.

Maine looks down to see a man who looks like he's been through a hell of a lot. Maybe combat. Maybe just a rough life. Whatever the case, the quiet explanation is both helpful and succinct. Maine nods and glances at the memorial once more before returning his attention to the stranger. ]

Used to a party.

[ Not "used to there being parties," but used it being nothing but a party. The religious aspect never made a dent. ]

[personalwar]

[ The sheer height of this stranger, which becomes clearer once they're standing next to each other, is hard to miss. Jack isn't used to having to look up at people, and it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that this newcomer is built like a brick wall.

It's telling that there's no confusion about what Ireland is, meaning that this guy must be from some version of Earth. Jack nods, as he also comes from an Earth where St. Patrick's Day is just an excuse for people to get drunk off their asses. ]

I'm sure there'll be plenty of that going on, too. This city is always looking for a reason to celebrate something. [ The words come out dry. Jack isn't a huge fan of all the merrymaking. ] Though when your world's this messed up, I guess you need some kind of distraction from it all.

[ It's a subtle offer to give up more information, assuming that the stranger needs it. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Humans finding a reason to celebrate must be some kind of constant across the multiverse. People on the station would find any excuse they could to party — although admittedly, Maine didn't like their take on festivities. And back in his universe, people were much the same. The war had obliterated so much of humanity that the survivors leaped at any reason to celebrate.

What were the celebrations like after the war? When did the party stop, and the bloodshed resume? (Because it always resumes. Always.)

He pulls himself from his thoughts. Focuses on that dry tone and what seems to be an invitation. ]

They at war?

[ He hasn't heard anything about one, but who knows? Maybe knowledge of it is so omnipresent that discussing it seems pointless. Wouldn't be the first time Maine's encountered that. ]

[personalwar]

[ This wouldn't be the first time that Jack has been asked that question. Ephemera had asked something similar during their trip through the pyramid's ruins, though it had been more about the possibility of war breaking out in the near future.

Jack shakes his head. ] Not directly, no, but there's a lot of war in this world's past. [ The Xelkoven War being the most notable, though World War III had apparently come and gone too.

He nods to the stranger, then gestures for them to move away from the group of people standing nearby. Once they're out of earshot, he continues. ]

It's more that the world itself is dying for environmental reasons. It's why certain kinds of food are limited and people are crammed into these mega-cities... to make sure that the rest of the Earth has a chance to regrow.

[ Whether or not it's working seems like a more difficult question to answer. Cassius seems to think that the death of this world is inevitable, but it's not like they have any good reason to trust an evil AI. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine follows without protest, automatically (and unconsciously) falling into step with the other man. There's an odd sense of relief as they move farther away from the crowd. Maine's curious about the memorials, sure, but he doesn't handle grieving people well on the best of days. It's only worse when he doesn't understand what they're sad about.

He listens closely to the stranger's explanation, his brow furrowing in confusion. He understands the words, sure, and he gets the concept of environmental damage. It's just that it's all wrong. ]

This place's history is fucked. [ It's not his universe, he knows. But still. ] Should be hundreds of colonies. No strain on Earth.

[ And perhaps it's because this is Earth that Maine's struggling with it. The space station he was pulled to before was in a completely different galaxy; it was so far removed that nothing contradicted the history Maine knew. But this? This is Earth. This is humanity's homeworld. This is the planet that billions of people have died to protect. It shouldn't be dying. ]

[personalwar]

[ In truth, Jack doesn't feel much better about the potential death of a planet that shares so much in common with his own. It's not his Earth, but it's an Earth, and that means that his version might be facing this sort of fate one day too.

The mention of colonies draws his attention, primarily because it's a tale he's heard before from others here. Or at least similar enough to make him wonder. ]

There's a colony on Mars, but it sounds like it's a mess up there. [ He glances up toward the sky, not there's anything to see. ] The conditions for the people working there and trying to terraform are bad. You'll see the politicians going back and forth on it.

[ Jack shrugs, because when it comes down to it that isn't really his problem. In a different life he would have been involved, but this place isn't home and he doesn't need to get drawn into issues that aren't his to handle.

He already put a lot of sweat, blood, and even tears into trying to protect his own Earth. He's given enough, hasn't he? ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Unconsciously, Maine mimics the other man's movements, turning his eyes towards the sky as though there's something to see. All there is to see is the sky, of course. It's a bit jarring after spending so long in space, but it's otherwise unremarkable. Certainly no flashing signs that say, "Mars colony in this direction!"

Mars, though. These people are still stuck in their own solar system. It's fucking bizarre. ]

Why bad conditions?

[ If this planet is such dire straits, shouldn't they be dumping money into terraforming projects? ]

[personalwar]

[ It's a good question, and while Jack has followed the political climate of this city with mild interest, he's already had enough of that kind of thing to last him a lifetime. So he doesn't necessarily read up on all of it as closely as he should. ]

Probably because the corporations are too greedy to put the funding into it that it needs. So the people there have got bad living conditions, and they're not sending up people who've got the actual skillsets they need to settle Mars properly.

[ Seems like a waste at that point, but no one asked him, and he shrugs.

After a pause, he gives the stranger another once-over and then extends his hand. ]

Jack, by the way.

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine's lip twists slightly, expression turning a bit sour at the talk of corporate greed. What a shitty thing to be a constant across the multiverse. It helps explain why humanity is stuck on one planet, but still. Doesn't make a lot of sense to Maine.

Then again, he's from a universe where aliens destroy human colonies from orbit. Spreading out is a matter of survival.

In any case, he makes no comment except a quiet grunt of acknowledgment. When Jack offers his hand, Maine takes it with his own gloved one. ]

Jónsson.

[ An alias. (Another alias.) There's a slight hesitation before he gives it, but he pronounces it perfectly. ]

Here long?

[personalwar]

[ Jack's hands are also gloved, as he's got an aversion to activating the empathy bond on a good day. It's only happened with a handful of people during his entire time here.

He doesn't usually like to think about how long he's been here, especially when he considers that it's on top of how long he'd been on El Nysa, but he isn't going to shy away from the question. ]

If half a year is long, then yeah.

[ It is long, especially if Jónsson is new and all of this still doesn't feel real to him. Jack pulls his hand back and clears his throat. ]

Was somewhere else before here, though. For about two years. Guess I'm just lucky that way.

[bloodbathing]

[ Half a year is a hell of a lot longer than Maine wants to stay. Not that he apparently has any choice in the matter. Still, it's disquieting to think about — and so Maine pushes it aside. Refuses to contemplate it. Focuses on Jack's next words instead.

Two years in another place. That's something to which Maine can relate. Something that immediately catches his interest, reigniting a spark of useless hope that he immediately tries to smother.

He nods as his hand drops back to his side. Lets his curiosity show on his expression. ]

Somewhere else, too. Space station. Year and a half.

[ Or close enough that it makes little difference to him. After a while, he'd stopped counting. ]

[personalwar]

[ How many times is this going to happen? Surprise flicks across Jack's expression for a moment, given how similar it sounds to his own situation. He's pretty sure that if this guy had been around on El Nysa, they would have crossed paths at some point, but time also doesn't necessarily have to play by the rules. Maybe Jónsson had been there before him, or after him. ]

A space station, huh? Was it called Thesa Station, by any chance?

[ Could be there's an entirely different space station out there that's also kidnapping people, ridiculous as it sounds. Either way, turns out that have at least one big thing in common. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ "Thesa Station"? Maine shakes his head, curiosity growing. He doubts that's a random name Jack decided to throw out. Could there be even more space stations acting like multidimensional hubs? ]

Lagunbiru. [ An answer that might be disappointing. ] Spoke to someone from another. Called "Avagi."

[ If Jack is from yet another space station, that makes three and counting. ]

[personalwar]

[ They're both coming to the same concerning conclusion here, and Jack sighs as he lowers his head, shaking it from side to side. He can feel a headache coming on. ]

Just how many space stations out there are people getting kidnapped to?

[ He makes mental notes of both those names. Maybe all of them were controlled by the Natha, or maybe this is all some giant cosmic coincidence. Either way, this isn't a situation where he feels better to have found someone in the same boat as him. ]

Did Lagunbiru orbit a planet, or were you just stuck on the space station itself?

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine makes a noise that's more a harsh exhale than a laugh. It's not the worst thing to have in common with someone, but it's not great, either. He wonders how much the stations have in common. Were people brought to Thesa Station to provide entertainment, too?

He doesn't ask. Doesn't want to deal with the questions it might raise. ]

Orbited planet. Haen. Only visited once.

[ Travel to the planet was extremely limited. Maine only set foot on it because the station was undergoing renovations. ]

You?

[personalwar]

[ That's at least one difference. Sort of, anyway. Jack's quick to nod. ]

We had access to the station, but we actually spent most of our time on a planet called El Nysa. The planet itself was pretty primitive technologically, and the people who lived on it had no idea about the space station's existence. Or... well, they thought it was a moon.

[ It had never sat right with Jack that they had to lie to the natives of El Nysa about who they were and where they came from, but that's a whole other story and not particularly relevant to the conversation.

He leans his weight back on his heels and crosses his arms. ]

How's a drink sound to you?

[ He's pretty sure that would be preferable to just standing around on the sidewalk comparing notes about previous kidnapping experiences, anyway. That can continue once they're more comfortable. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine can't guess why the station was kept a secret from El Nysa's population. Nor does he have any idea how such a situation might have started in the first place. Maybe aliens were involved, or maybe the planet was deliberately isolated for some reason.

In any case, getting a drink does sound better than standing around in the open. And there are plenty of bars to choose from. Maine nods. ]

Good.

[ He'll follow wherever Jack leads. ]

[personalwar]

[ There are plenty of bars, though Jack has a specific one in mind. Red Wings is owned by the Displaced, which makes it the safest place to have a conversation like this. Random New Amsterdam citizens will drop by after a game at the stadium, but on off days it's usually quieter.

Given the St. Patrick's celebrations, Jack's not too sure what to expect. He doesn't mind making the trip in relative silence, and it's close enough that they can walk rather than trying to shoulder their way onto a crowded train.

Once they get to the bar, Jack turns back to Jónsson and then makes a gesture toward the sign. ]

Been here yet?

[ It's possible someone else already told him about it. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Considering how short a time Maine has spent in this world, he doesn't expect to recognize whatever bar Jack picks. But then he finds himself outside of Red Wings. It's one of the few places in this world that Maine does know, albeit not very well. He was only inside for a short time before being directed to the safehouse.

Maine nods in answer. ]

Guards dropped us nearby. Ordered us to enter.

[ Orders that Maine had been unable to resist. He doesn't know what, if anything, the owners of Red Wings have to do with the guards from the van — but it's made Maine somewhat wary of the place. Made him immediately dismiss suggestions from other Displayed that he seek employment within. ]

[personalwar]

Right, that is how the arrivals played out this time.

[ Jack received El's message the same as everyone else, so it's not like he could have missed that, though he doesn't always make a point of greeting the new faces the way that some do.

He leads them inside and grabs a table. At this point he's familiar enough with the menu that he can use his implant to put in an order almost right away. He realizes that Jónsson is much less likely to be comfortable and therefore gives him a moment before speaking up again. ]

That's not the norm, by the way. Normally the new arrivals get dumped at some random event in the city. The fact that whoever dropped you off knew about Red Wings is... [ He pauses for a moment, then shakes his head. ] Well, they clearly know more about us than we'd like.

[bloodbathing]

[ That extra moment to figure out the menu is appreciated. The implant's technology functions in a remarkably similar way to the communicators back in Lagunbiru, albeit using completely different hardware. Still, Maine has yet to use his implant to order anything off a menu. He figures it out quickly enough, though, and he orders a drink strong enough that he'll actually feel it.

One downside of being as big as he is: it takes a lot of alcohol to affect him.

He shifts in his seat (too small, but that's typical) and casts his eyes around the bar. He doesn't recognize any of the retro memorabilia, but he gets the overall theme. Wonders if it's familiar to people from this world, or to Displaced who are from Earth's distant past.

When Jack speaks again, Maine grunts his agreement. He hasn't relaxed since they stepped into the bar, and he's unlikely to do so soon. ]

Means it's a potential target. Should have more security.

[ If the owners aren't involved, that is. ]

[personalwar]

[ While Jack is from Indiana and not Michigan, he's all too familiar with growing up in a town so small that everyone there was very into where they came from, to the point that it could get obnoxious. In that way, the Red Wings feels shockingly comfortable to him, and it also helps that he has at least some trust for the people who run the joint. So, now that they're seated and have drinks coming their way, he does seem to unwind -- just a little.

The dry remark from Jónsson draws a wry smirk out of Jack, and he nods slowly. ] You're probably right, though a good chunk of the Displaced work here. Given what some of us are capable of, it's better guarded than you'd think.

[ While Jack works security, he doesn't do it here. He needs his job to hopefully lead to something of use when it comes to finding a way back home, and while Giles Bell may not be the right place to look, it's better than nothing. ]

If you're looking for a job, I know the people who own the place.

[ Clarke more so than Strange, but still, he could put in a good word. This guy is big enough that he can assume he'd be good at knocking heads, if nothing else. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ It's a generous offer, especially coming from someone he's just met. But Maine shakes his head. He's not interested in associating himself with the Displaced at large any more than is necessary. Never been good with big teams. Always preferred to stay on the outskirts. ]

Got a job. Bouncer.

[ He'd found it very quickly. Given his size and intimidating presence, it wasn't difficult. But he still says, ]

Thanks.

[personalwar]

[ It isn't much of a shock that Jónsson turns down the offer. It is more surprising that he's already managed to find himself a job when he's so new to this place, but that speaks to the fact that he doesn't want to be reliant on anyone, whether it's Morningstar or the rest of the Displaced.

Jack can relate, and he nods slowly as he takes a sip from his drink.

But yeah, this guy looks like bouncer material, so chances are he didn't have to submit much of a resume. ]

Well, it'll pay the bills. I work security, so... same idea.