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- !arrival log,
- bones: lance sweets,
- dceu: diana prince,
- dogs b&c: nill,
- dragon age: marian hawke,
- ff7: aerith gainsborough,
- ffvii: cloud strife,
- ffvii: tifa lockhart,
- kingdom hearts: roxas,
- kingdom hearts: sora,
- mcu: elektra natchios,
- overwatch: soldier 76 (jack morrison),
- she-ra: adora,
- she-ra: catra,
- she-ra: glimmer,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- teen wolf: isaac lahey,
- the 100: bellamy blake,
- the 100: clarke griffin,
- the 100: john murphy,
- the magicians: eliot waugh,
- the magicians: quentin coldwater,
- the man from uncle: gaby teller,
- the man from uncle: illya kuryakin,
- uncharted: nathan drake
ARRIVAL LOG 22
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: May 7 - 11
WHAT: The twenty-second arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy, references to rebellion and world upheaval. Further notes at the end of log.
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. But more than that, many of those buildings are covered in green.
You realize there are others next to you: all dressed the same way as you, you'll come to realize: in overalls of varying colors, all with heavy-duty gloves on. 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 eventually lowers to the ground and turns off with a low whirr. 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 full of moisture. Soon enough, you realize it's lightly raining. The guard says nothing, head bowed as he lines you up with the rest. The nurse helps the others out, checking over each passenger one by one.
The main guard turns to address your entire group, and something about her bearing makes it clear she's done this before. "I'll be quick. Listen up." Your body will come to attention, immediately homing in on the words that follow, as if compelled to hang on every word. "You see those tents set up over there? You're going to head over there and help out with the work they're doing. Don't hurt anyone, don't look for any assistance from any police officers, and don't run off. Wait until people come and find you, and when they do, ask them to show you the glow."
The guard will hop back into the van, which will rise off of the ground and head back the way it came, turning the corner of a building that you now realize is covered in winding plants and vines. Once it's gone, you'll find your legs moving almost without your permission, guiding you to follow the steps the guard laid out.
Once you get to the tents, you'll see that there is a congregation of people, all dressed in clothes that they're ready to work in. Many of them are covered in grass stains, their faces bearing that sheen that comes with manual labor. The ones that are under the shade of the tents seem to be taking a break, but many others are in the area, hard to work. They assume that you're here to help pitch in with cutting back the sheer number of plants that have overgrown and consumed the city, and they hand you a pair of shears and a bucket so that you can get to work. Time to get pruning!
◉ 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.
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.
Here we go again. We've got another batch of newbies, who've been dropped off at one of the landscaping work stations for getting all these plants under control. Follow the coordinates and you should find them in that general area. They're wearing overalls, if that narrows it down. I don't think many people wear overalls in 2512.
The coordinates will lead the current Displaced to the heart of New Amsterdam, near to one of the many green spaces in the city. Unsurprisingly, this is an area where the overabundance of plants growing at a massive rate has caused the most issue. Businesses, especially smaller ones like restaurants and boutiques, have been impacted by the plants. It's not just the outsides of buildings that are overgrown, either; inside, plumbing is completely clogged up as the foliage spills out of sinks, toilets, and anywhere else it can find a way in.
Green Thumbs, which is a local landscaping company that's seen an influx of business in the last six months thanks to the strange overgrowth of plant life in the city, has stepped up to help with this problem and has recruited the newly arrived Displaced to their cause, if unwittingly. Anyone who comes by one of their stations (including the veteran Displaced coming to collect the newbies) is likely to get roped into helping, as this is quite the undertaking and they need all the hands they can get. Don't worry—as long as you have a registered ID, you can get paid today.
The work itself isn't too complicated. Cut away plants, yank them out of drains, and put all everything that's harvested into buckets to return to the tents to drop off for later use in composting. While most of what's growing are flowers and weeds, there are areas where vegetables have sprouted too. Those will obviously want to be saved, and there will be crates set out to collect all of it. At the tents they'll also be offering some snacks and plenty of water to keep people energized and hydrated during the work. Everything from parks to bakeries to gift shops are going to need help here, and while the amount of work feels like it's neverending, it is important. Life can't return to normal until this is done.
While there will be time for both new arrivals and the rest of the Displaced to pitch in, eventually the newcomers will be escorted back to the safehouse for processing.
> AROUND THE CITY
MEDIA COVERAGE AND ONLINE CHATTER
New Amsterdam has come to life again following Judas' simulation, but the energy of the city has changed. After so many tragedies and disasters, it’s as though everyone is half-expecting the next one to strike while still reeling from the last. Some are dealing with this by throwing themselves into charity work or laying low, but others have been radicalized into thoughts of taking down the United Nations altogether. Morningstar is garnering more and more support, and though it’s technically illegal, their symbol is being grafitti’d and pasted all over town. The overworked police can’t manage to keep up, so some of them stay, a clear sign of the shifting opinions of the people.
The focus of every nearly source of news, from serious mainstream media to pop culture commentary, is still the simulation that recently overtook New Amsterdam. New characters won’t be able to access this information until their IDs are set up, but once they can, it’s a deluge of news reports, opinion pieces, and conspiracy theory websites.
There are solemn specials memorializing those who died in the simulation, or pieces discussing the long term effects on survivors and the city as a whole, focusing on New Amsterdam’s charity efforts. Talking heads, from pundits to scientists to various authority figures, are brought on panels to discuss and sometimes heatedly debate what happened and why it all seemed to go so wrong. Of particular focus and concern is New Amsterdam Governor Lydia Gill-Jade's choice to step down, electoral candidate Jovavich’s death, and the upcoming emergency election. Now that so many UNA soldiers have been decommissioned and weapons contracts dropped, economic concerns are rearing their head, too.
It might be a breath of fresh air for some citizens when they realize that this time, the mainstream media’s reaction to the United Nations' involvement is decidedly negative. There isn’t so much undue praise, and both interviewers and interviewees are starting to ask hard questions about how, exactly, the United Nations screwed this up so badly. More than a few are blaming the current situation on the United Nations completely.
And, of course, the AI Judas is still missing. The fear over this is palpable, and no news channel or website is going to let anyone forget it, or go long without mentioning it. It’s clear the United Nations is in the middle of a damage control campaign, sending their most media-ready members to explain why they didn’t do more and why their hands were tied. It’s all very polished and precise.
On social media, the shift towards criticizing the United Nations is much more open and less measured. It isn’t hard to find discussions tearing apart the UN’s excuses and even mocking them. With UNA soldiers returning home, there are more than a few stories of friends or family members noticing a huge shift in the former soldiers’ personalities, and their clear struggle to reintegrate into a civilian lifestyle. People are getting angry, and admitting you still support the United Nations is a great way to start a very long argument.
As for Morningstar, now that they’re in the odd position of being considered by most to be a political party opposing the UNA, they’re getting more media attention than ever before. The shift is clear—Morningstar’s opinions and ideas have value now, and they aren’t shy about challenging the United Nations' official position on what happened in New Amsterdam.
Another source of constant gossip is the Displaced. Now that they’ve been partially outed, everyone is trying to figure out just what their deal is. Some people clearly view them as heroes, while others aren’t so sure. Are they rogue UNA experiments? Dimension hoppers? Superheroes? Aliens? No one knows the truth, and so theories abound, some of them utterly ridiculous. There are more measured articles and reports too, but the tabloids are the ones running the scoops that are more out there (and, honestly, more fun).
MEDIA COMMUNITY RESPONSE
While talk is all well and good following such a widespread event as the simulation, taking action is far more important. While efforts to handle the overgrowth of plant life continues, there are other needs that need to be met too. Everyone came out of the simulation feeling malnourished, so all throughout the city food drives are being set up to make sure that the less fortunate and destitute get the sustenance they need to get back on their feet.
On top of that, there will also be an emphasis on redistributing all of the food which grew in excess while everyone was in the sim, to make sure that it's spread around to everyone who needs it.
Displaced will be encouraged to participate and help out with this (whether it's through cooking, plating/serving food, etc.) by the people they know through their community -- whether it's coworkers, members of Morningstar (including Gaby), or any other non-Displaced acquaintances that they have.
As public opinion toward the UNA is souring, there is a belief that people need to learn how to be self-sufficient, which is something that Morningstar in particular decides to capitalize on. If they can't rely on the UNA or on the corporations which are known to be corrupt and incetuous, and if the upcoming emergency election is likely to just give everyone more of the same, then they'll just have to figure things out on their own.
Therefore, Morningstar heads up a number of community events, classes, and drives to move toward this goal. This is a less direct form of rebellion than targeting the UNA or any of the big corporations directly, and while Morningstar has plans for that in the works too, they have always been a group that knows how to engage with the common people and make them feel seen and heard. Want to know how to grow and cook your own food? Have you heard what composting is, but don't really know what it's about? There's classes for all that, and more, including how to give haircuts and mend your own clothing. Those who are practiced in these things will also be offering these services to anyone who needs them.
Whether the Displaced are curious to learn, want to offer a class of their own (or at least help teach one), or want to take advantage of any of the services being offered, they'll be welcome. Morningstar agents will find them at the safehouse or Red Wings and encourage them to participate.
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 number 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. For anyone in need of them, Gaby will offer up partitions that will come out of storage. Tucked away in a corner is a VR system, though newcomers won't be able to access this until their ID has been set up. Even with the newly erected partitions in the sleeping areas, 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.
◉ 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 MAY 11 (JUNE 21). 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.
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 MAY 11 (JUNE 21). 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 June calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month, as well as some additional notes from the mods.
AC remains halved this month due to the state of the world right now. New players will only need to provide at least five comments across two-four (2-4) threads, while older players will only need to provide ten comments across two-four (2-4) threads. Please let us know if you have any questions about this!
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But emotions aren't always logical, and he smiles back at Nate even if his own expression falls a little too at the answer. Half a year isn't, of course, as long as they spent in Hadriel, but it's no small amount of time either.]
That sucks.
[He doesn't bother to figure out a professional or gentle way to put it, because it's Nate.]
And that's... More weird time stuff, I mean, for me it's only been a few hours since I was in Hadriel.
[They're used to time shenanigans but it's still a little strange.]
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Huh.
[ It isn't eloquent, but neither is Nate. Lance was picked up from the dregs of Hadriel's timely end and placed here as if he'd just taken the train to a new locale. They're used to being shifted from location to location too; doesn't make it any easier when it happens against your will. ]
...look, um. [ He chews the moment and the silence in the hall, before it's interrupted by laughter down the corridor. ] I got some stuff to fill you in on. I can smuggle you out and we can grab a drink at the local watering hole?
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He nods at the suggestion, seriousness tempering what otherwise would've been an enthusiastic reaction to getting out of the safehouse and finding something to drink.]
Yeah, definitely. Lead the way.
[He'll ask the questions he's wondering about as soon as they're not in such a busy place.]
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C'mon.
[ The way out is sparsely guarded, and there's a tendency for anyone monitoring entries and exits to not ask questions if those involved look like they know what they're doing. Technically Lance shouldn't be out this soon after his arrival, but he's in familiar, decent company so it's pie to smile and wave and meander down the street into the crisp, evening air.
The city is crowded in certain squares but here, along the back roads to Red Wings, it's desolate and cool. Privacy enough for him to finally talk as they fall into step with each other. ]
World-wise, I'm sure you know the basics. Powers, an empathy bond, five-hundred-odd years in our future, post-World War 3, or something. We just got out of a simulation that- [ Nate takes a deep breath, huffing it all out again in a sigh. ] ...there's some politicking you'd probably be interested in, lots of big players, a mercenary group called Global Spiral that knows who we-
[ He gestures at Lance's chest, then his own. ]
Are. Which isn't great. Low profile, and all that.
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Curiosity takes over nerves a bit as he watches their surroundings, memorizing the route they're following and just generally taking in the area, but his attention refocuses on Nate when he begins talking.]
Great. You know I love politicking, especially when it comes to shadowy organizations with questionable intentions.
[It's said very genuinely, but Nate knows him well enough that it's probably obvious it's entirely sarcastic. He hesitates a moment after that, though, having not missed the sigh at the mention of the simulations.]
I heard that was... A pretty bad situation. The simulation, I mean.
[And he's extending an invitation to talk about it, if Nate wants to.]
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Yeah, I got vivisected a few dozen times. Trying not to dwell on it too much.
[ He says, with the laissez-faire apathy one might expect from a conversation about the weather, or shoes that are just on the verge of being uncomfortable. Nate knows that Lance will only pry so far as he's allowed given their history, and he isn't fully intent on reliving - or remembering, for that matter - the lurid details of his insides being taken out of him, and then put back in. Reminds him too much of what happened to the original occupants of Hadriel, when the Null took them captive.
Nate sucks his lower lip between his teeth, turning a corner and keeping a steady, even pace. It's all small potatoes compared to what's happened before. The island. The fall.
He buried it so deep that it's work digging it up, admitting to it, making it real. Nate imagines Lance went through the same process, but he was always better at understanding grief, turning it over in his hands with an objectivity that Nate so lacks. Even now he hates to tell him strictly because it's another straw on the back of an already overburdened camel. ]
Think I might be dead back home? So, um. You're in good company.
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So he nods and drops the topic for now, allowing silence to fall again as they turn a corner, shooting brief glances at Nate to gauge how he's feeling. It seems like he's getting ready to say something, so Lance stays quiet until Nate speaks again, but what he says is... Not what Lance is expecting--even though he's not sure what he was expecting--and he can't hide the mix of surprise and concern that flashes across his expression.
Despite having gone through this on the other side, he isn't entirely sure what to say. Maybe it's because there really is nothing to say that makes it better, and he knows that, and it's less about what to say and more about how to say it. So he doesn't overthink it.]
I'm really sorry, Nate.
[He doesn't ask how Nate knows or why he thinks what he does, because he's pretty sure Nate will offer more context if he wants to. Lance also knows how difficult it was for him to explain when he'd be asked that question, so he doesn't want to put that on Nate too.]
That isn't... Easy to deal with.
[An obvious statement on the surface, but it's an invitation to talk more if Nate wants to, especially to someone who gets it. There's no need to try to hide how difficult this is to go through.]
no subject
Lance left a child behind, a girl who loved him, his job and his life. He was seemingly at peace about it too, having either taken the time to process his grief in a slightly more healthy fashion or just more accustomed to taking things in stride than Nate initially thought. And maybe it just came with the territory of his work: understanding how people process traumatic events, trying to apply it to himself.
Sorry doesn't fix it, but it’s better than nothing. It's a band-aid on a sucking chest wound, it's the thought that counts. He’s been here long enough to not be anything more than jaded, has walked himself through the five steps and found them severely lacking. They don't account for situations like this. ]
I fell. Really...really big cliff. Last thing I remember is my head hitting a rock.
[ The audible crack, then darkness. He turns another corner, and Red Wings is in the distance. ]
I didn't mean to make your arrival here a crappy one, I just- I just wanted to tell someone. Figured I should get it out of the way.
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[And he means that; he's really glad Nate isn't keeping this to himself any longer than he already was. Processing--and grieving, which is really what it is to come to terms with this situation--is easier when you're not alone, dealing with isolation and loneliness and the pressure to fake that everything is fine. It's hard to work through something that you have to repress just to get through the day.
The explanation of what happened certainly makes sense for why Nate's drawn his conclusion, and Lance is quietly glad that it sounds like it was very quick. Not that falling is fun--he's fallen out of enough things, trees in particular, and broken enough bones doing so that he very much knows how unpleasant it is--but from Nate's description at least he doesn't remember anything after the impact, and that's far better than the alternative. Not that it makes the outcome any easier to deal with.
He catches sight of the bar they're heading toward, and he's not sure how private it's going to be as far as having a conversation, so he decides to ask for sure--]
You said you've been here half a year? Have you talked to anyone else about this at all?
[It doesn't sound like it, but he should make sure if his assumption is correct.]
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[ It's a pointedly obvious, fake laugh. Sarcastic to its core, very clearly treating Lance's casual and well-meaning suggestion as something worthy of legitimate cynicism. It isn't, and Lance means well as he always does, but he knows Nate and therefore knows Nate's aversion to sharing with strangers.
Rhetorical questions, testing the waters. How it always is. ]
Sorry, that's- it would be funny if I didn’t know you were being serious. No, I haven't. Wasn’t exactly a priority to introduce myself and tell people I'm probably dead? Didn't want the pity party on top of the welcome wagon.
[ He knows where this is going, however, and thinks it might be prudent to nip it in the bud before he gets the kind of look he knows Lance is wont to give. ]
I'm okay. I mean, I'm not, but I know there's nothing I can really do? Trying to be zen about this.
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The last part of his response is something Lance can actually remark on, though, and he can do it from experience.]
Are you actually being 'zen about it', or are you just ignoring all the emotional and psychological issues under the guise of being pragmatic?
[Because there's a big difference between truly being at peace with something that can't be changed, and just trying to rationalize and dismiss all the fallout.]
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Have I mentioned how much I missed our little chats?
[ He remarks dryly, raising his eyebrows at Lance as they continue to walk. It's not a 'yes,' but neither is it a 'no' and they're both aware of the discrepancy. ]
It's your professional integrity that I really respect.
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Yes, that's me, the most professional psychologist ever.
[He is absolutely not and he knows it, despite how seriously he does take his job. And that reminds him that he has some semi-related questions to ask Nate, but he'll do that in a bit; he doesn't want to change the subject just yet. Instead he allows silence for a moment, deciding carefully what he wants to say.]
I'm not going to tell you how to deal with all of this unless you ask me, but... There's a difference between moving past something because you've accepted that you can't change the result, and moving past it because you've accepted the result itself.
[And it's really important, and whenever Nate wants to do the latter instead of the former he's willing to help however he can.]
no subject
[ Of course Lance is right. He's always right about stuff like this, and Nate would be a moron not to listen, which is why he absorbs it anyway without complaint.
When Sam died, he didn't have the luxury of healthy processing. He had Sully, but was determined not to burden him with the stress and the guilt, the agony of grief and how self-destructive it made Nate in his darkest hour. He worked and barely functioned, survived but didn't live. He spent the subsequent months in a dangerous working situation and only left when he realized it might end up killing him. Even then, he felt as though he might have deserved it.
Nate bumps shoulders with Lance and glances away, not avoiding the confrontation of admission but wishing a better answer were hovering somewhere in the middle distance. ]
Guess I'm just not ready for the second one. [ He stops at the door to a bar with a sign over the lintel: Red Wings. ] How about that drink?
no subject
So Lance allows the subject to change naturally now, although he does have a parting quip for the question--]
I feel like I shouldn't be encouraging drinking as a distraction, but yes.
[He doesn't even pretend he's not a hypocrite about this. He glances at the name of the bar.]
Oh, this is the bar the Displaced like to go to, right? A few people at the safehouse told me about it.
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[ Nate pushes the door open, gesturing inside that Lance might follow through. Drinking as a distraction isn't the wisest use of anyone's time, and Nate has absolutely seen the worst of those who come in frequently and ask for their usual with a regularity that concerns him, but he's nobody's therapist, and nobody's mother.
They can have what they want until he has to cut them off. ]
Co-founded by our resident doctor - you'd probably like him - and managed by yours truly.
[ Nate has no significant financial stake in the bar, but he's on shift often enough that many of the hiring decisions hit him first before he passes them up the ladder. ]
And unlike Hadriel, you don't have to promise an arm and a leg to a god for a bottle of the good stuff.
no subject
Everything about this sounds infinitely better than Hadriel.
[He doesn't know Stephen yet, of course, but if Nate is vouching for him he's probably fine, and of course Lance knows Nate; most importantly, neither of them are Rey. And there's decent alcohol that's actually accessible. This is all amazing.
And he has to ask--]
What's he a doctor of?
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Neurosurgery.
[ He slides around the counter and nods toward an empty bar stool, retrieving a small towel and flinging it over his shoulder with the practiced ease of someone who's been doing this for a few months. Nate looks over the bottles and contemplates an appropriate "welcome to your new Hell" drink. ]
Or he was, once. Also, his last name is Strange and he's kind of sensitive about it.
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Lance takes the seat indicated, though he chews on his lip a moment as Nate goes around the counter.]
You don't have to work.
[Sure, he knows this is probably not a big deal, but he still feels a bit guilty.
As for the doctor's name--]
Strange in what way?
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He settles for a couple jiggers of whiskey, slid across the counter while Nate props his elbows up and wrinkles his brow. ]
His name. It's Strange.
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[Huh. After a moment--]
I guess now I'm not the only doctor with a weird name.
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More importantly, though, friends are for ribbing and therefore Nate grins. ]
Your dream come true. Be careful telling people what you do, though, or you'll end up playing therapist to half the Displaced.
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[He taps his fingers on his class, thinking how he wants to put this.]
Although I don't regret offering to help in Hadriel, it also led to... Problems.
[A lot of problems, in a variety of ways, some of which he'd told people about and some of which he hadn't.]
Do you have any opinions on what the best approach might be, here? Not just about the psychologist thing, but in general.
[Making some of his skillsets clear in Hadriel had been good in some areas, and bad in others. He's worried about getting dragged into situations he's unprepared for, or attracting attention he doesn't want.]
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For a psychologist, Sweets plays his own cards close to the vest. ]
What, you mean like how you should introduce yourself, or get involved with people's problems? Or...not, as the case may be.
no subject
[It's a vague question and probably not all that fair to ask, but if he can get any insight instead of going into this whole situation blind like he did in Hadriel, then he'll take it. Nate's clearly established here, and Lance trusts his opinions and observations.]
I want to help with what I can, once I get an idea of what's going on here and what we're dealing with, but I guess the problem is that I don't know what public sentiment is. People in Hadriel reacted really weird ways.
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