ARRIVAL LOG 22

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
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.

> ARRIVAL LOG #022

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.

> HEDGE-CLIPPING

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.

> 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 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.

> 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 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!

> NAVIGATION

Comments

[wittingly]

[ He's partway through sliding his glass forward when the bottle gets reeled back, and -

- yeah, absolutely. He perks up a little, because he's always a fan of doing. Always up for something that involves moving, or working, any activity. Event, experience, anything other than just sitting he's generally game on for. ]

You know what, coincidentally the whole damn city's practically a botanical garden right now, isn't it?

[ With the overgrowth everywhere, ivy hanging down from skyscrapers, technically lit up by the city windows peeking through.

Kind of works, right?

He'll just scoot his stool back and then nod his head toward the exit - after you Will. ]

[slavophile]

It is.

( He's quick, and Will's following suit, trying to hide a blush that escapes from his impromptu date acceptance. He pushes in his chair, trying not to squeak the legs, before leading his way out of the safe house.

With the front door, he again tries not to make too much noise, unlocking it and holding it open for Ian. Holding the bottle out, he lets Ian take a hold of it before closing the door behind them.

He takes in the air, inhales deeply and looks over at Ian. )

Let's.

[wittingly]

[ He'll take the bottle easy enough, kindly wait for Will to close and lock the door. And then they'll set off, a slow meandering pace, with Ian popping the top off to take a small mouthful. Sort of a perfunctory drink just to do it, and then he holds it out in offering. ]

I gotta say - I really hope you're not counting on me to not get us lost.

[ Mused with a little sideways look. ]

We were locked out while you guys were in the sim. I've been here all of three days, this whole place is a mystery.

[slavophile]

( William accepts the offering, taking his own feel-it-out sip, to get the ball rolling. He unsuccessfully stops himself from making a face, and that's from the walking, the amount he takes and the laugh that puffs up while he drinks. Holding the bottle away, William stops in his tracks and coughs a few times, turning away briefly.

Real becoming, right?

Once he has a lid on that cough, he looks back, clears his throat, and keeps the walk going. )

Where were you, when you were outside of New Amsterdam? ( William's not a direction expert, but he takes note of the electronic signs they pass, and the beauty in the overgrown vegetation. It really does come off as a city-wide botanical garden. )

[wittingly]

[ Ian seems a little too amused by the face he pulls, much in the same way a stoner gets amused when they get someone high and that person starts coughing. It's like an encouraging thing mixed with watching Bambi walk for the first time.

Just for good measure, he gives Will a few pats on the back like it's in any way helping him get over it. ]

New Tokyo, for a while. A sketchy warehouse, until we got a better place to hole up and wait for the city to reopen.

[slavophile]

( It was just the wrong rhythm, too quick a gulp, and a strange angle. Be as amused as you like.

He's fine by the time the pats come, but he likes them all the same and doesn't chide Ian for them. As they walk, he goes vacillates between eyeing the greenery and the lights of the city and Ian's face as he speaks, or listens.

He also offers the bottle back, his right hand finding his pocket casually. )

And here I thought the safe house screamed Sketchy Warehouse. ( Also he calls bullshit. Waiting for the city to open? He means, work as a team to save the city. He knows. ) All that waiting paid off. Do you think I've hit overwhelming yet, or should I keep at it?

[wittingly]

[ He tucks the bottle into one arm for a bit, so he can slip both of them into his jacket pockets in a body language mirror. His head dips down a little, though - poor posture, an automatic adjustment to bring himself down a couple inches whenever he's talking to someone that isn't quite his height. ]

Trust me, the warehouse was worse.

[ There were just coma patience in the center and a whole lot of nothing else. It wasn't a party. They didn't have booze.

But anyway --

A sideways look and an incredibly wry smile. ]

I'm feeling pretty whelmed. I think you can call it a success.

[slavophile]

I'll see if I can eke out any extra whelming.

( He sneaks a glance, or thinks he does as they round a corner and begin to cross the street. )

Well, you survived the Sketchy Warehouse and saved the day. Helped, sorry. With the snip heard round the lab or horrors. What's next for New Amsterdam's savior?

[wittingly]

[ He blows out an exaggerated, contemplative breath. ]

Well, you know, I was thinking maybe karate? Learn to do martial arts, roam the streets at night unplugging evil.

[ A little tilt to his head. ]

Then I was thinking maybe instead of that I could just try and get my masters' degree back, so I signed up for an apprenticeship at one of the engineering firms near here. Probably gonna spend every night busting my ass to get caught up on the last 500 years so I don't look like a fucking moron.

[slavophile]

Like a vigilante?

( His voice is flat, deadpan. Ian will beat that horse into the ground, won't he. Well, that's on William for being honest. )

Something tells me you'll succeed. You do determined well. I can tell. I can also rhyme. Apparently.

[wittingly]

[ His lips crack up a little more, a smile wide enough to show teeth on one side. Asymmetrical, but nice nonetheless. ]

Damn, add that to the list of talents you have that I'm still learning about. What else you hiding, Will? Champion knitting? Gold metal in downhill bobsled?

[slavophile]

( The lopsided smile gets him, the way Ian's hair falls down and shapes his face when he tilts his head or laughs. He looks away, trying to play at being more coy but once again failing at it. )

If I tell you, then there'll be no reason to get to know me. Maybe it's my turned to be whelmed. Wow me, Ian Fowler.

[wittingly]

[ Eyebrows go up in lighthearted surprise, his torso sort of twisting as they walk like he's half-facing Will rather than walking beside him. ]

Wow you, huh? What, am I bragging about my secret skills right now to outshine the competition? Job interview style? Because, I gotta warn you, I am really good at interviews.

[slavophile]

Yeah, I think you're really good at a lot. I don't know If I'm going to be surprised if I learn you're a famous acrobat.

[wittingly]

Can't be that famous or you'd have heard of me across the multiverse, like Beethoven.

[ A beat. ]

You guys have Beethoven right? Actually- scratch that, I wanna live with the mystery.

[ Just like he wants to believe Kyna when she says Einstein was a pixie in hers. God, he knows it isn't true but he just wants it so bad.

A low hmmm in the back of his throat, and his head tips up toward the sky. ]

Let's see. Apart from my very obvious value as someone who can fix almost anything, I've also been known to do some woodworking. A little whittling. I can play the guitar and the kazoo at the same time. You wouldn't believe how high demand that one is. And I can cook? How's this hitting you so far, are you whelmed?

[slavophile]

( Beethoven survived almost a thousand years? Props for Beethoven. Something tells him Wagner didn't. He'd say all that out loud, but Ian doesn't need him to. So he keeps mum. Another project: see what classics survived. Surely nothing from his 2040. But maybe his 2020? )

Getting there. Guitar and kazoo. What's your go to? If you had a guitar and a kazoo right now and this were a stage?

( They're in the street, but that doesn't stop him from spinning around and gesturing widely to make his point. He's almost forgotten that have alcohol. )

[wittingly]

Pat Benatar

[ Instantaneously, like he had the answer on tap. Unapologetic, coupled with a sort of snap-and-point. ]

Hands down. We Belong is my Karaoke song. You know it, right?

[slavophile]

( He thinks of Heartbreaker. First and foremost and then. )

I - yeah. We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder. I can uh, I can dig it.

[wittingly]

[ And now he's beaming, wide and pleased because -- the boy fucking loves Pat Benatar. ]

Damn right you can. Everyone can dig that song. It's the classic romance movie coming together song, you know. The climax.

[slavophile]

Right. When the two meet in the middle and -- ( He looks at him again, digging just how pleased he is, too, unable to not feel that infectious enthusiasm, coming to a stop beside Ian. ) That's when they kiss.

[wittingly]

[ And here they are, stopped beneath leaf-covered buildings, the weight of implication at that last little bit in the air just like it should always be at the mention of Pat Benatar, thank you very much.

It's clear he's cognizant of it. Clear in the way he goes still, loose, hands still in his pockets but a little knowing expression on his face.

Never one to rush a moment, though. Never the kind to leap and pull the trigger too soon. ]

Exactly.

[ Drawled out slow, calm. ]

On a scale of one to ten, how whelmed would you say you are?

[slavophile]

( They're lit from all sides but not straight above. It's a picture perfect moment, he knows. But, he's always been one to live through a moment and not in it, so now, right this second? He's determined to be present. One hand leaves his pocket, because any people who are whelmed to any degree shouldn't have a hand in their pockets.

They should be there, looking into Ian's eyes from only slightly above, watching his lips as he forms every word of that question.

Both knowing what could happen next. Both knowing everything tonight could've been leading here. )

7? Pretty... ( He inhales, nodding shortly. ) Whelmed.

[wittingly]

[ Let it never be said he can't read the room.

Or that he's insecure about it, either. He takes his time, actually, curling a hand around the bottle of tequila so he can set it deliberately down onto the street beneath them.

And then he'll make the move, slow and steady, with his gaze flickering between Will's eyes and lips like a constant reaffirmation on descent.

He likes to drag out first kisses. He likes to slow down time enough that it feels like perception narrows down to a singular focused view, peripheral vision goes a little hazy, eyes go half-lidded or closed. Time for all of that to happen, and the three or four second pause just a breath, just a centimetre before contact actually happens. Lingering, to make someone feel the pull first.

And then it's a careful, controlled, nearly chaste touch with lips mostly closed, barely parted, catching. Not a spontaneous, erratic affair- it's a controlled execution, well-practiced technique.

So, add that along side guitar/kazoo one man band. ]

[slavophile]

( He doesn't squirm, doesn't move, doesn't look down when he hears the clang of the bottle land on the ground.

He's down and then Ian's close, lips so close he can feel his breath. It feels like an eternity passes between them before the chaste first kiss starts. His eyes fall closed. His lips part, only enough to continue the kiss as he brings them back together, his lower lip brushing against Ian's.

Bringing one hand up, he very lightly caresses his cheek, bringing his palm against it, keeping his pace but adding his flare. What he wants to do. )

[wittingly]

[ He doesn't fight that flair - Will can take it. He'll conceded the ground almost immediately.

His charm might be a little strong, he might be outgoing and social, but when it comes to asserting roles? Dominant he is not. Maybe his outward people-person face isn't genuine enough for that, it doesn't reflect so well in intimacy.

And so it goes slow and unhurried, this careful exploratory thing.

Most people here have only seen him drinking, or talking, or socializing. They've never seen him working. They've never seen him get absolutely obsessed with a project, or a piece of knowledge that he doesn't have, or something new that's caught his interest. He absolutely fucking immerses himself in it until he knows it like breathing. An incredibly serious counterpoint to his default state, a devoted curiosity.

He kisses a little like that, too - small shifts to gauge reaction, cataloging response. Nudging a little closer, tilting a little farther to one side, catching lower lip between his to lightly taste.

He talks like a stoner but he kisses like an engineer. ]