ARRIVAL LOG 004

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: Night of August 05
WHAT: The fourth arrival
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy. Further notes at end of log.

> ARRIVAL LOG #004

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 four people in black body armor seated opposite you, as well as a man in dark gray scrubs. You realize there are others next to you. All of you in white scrubs, hair recently cut but at various stages of growth, restrained by straps across your chests, arms, feet, holding you to the bench under you. To your left, an armored interior door, two more people visible, 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 stops. 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, bright sunshine and the rushing sound of a crowd flooding in, a heavy wave of warm air. The nurse moves to stand at the back, checking each passenger over one by one just before they're helped out of the vehicle, quick and methodical. He doesn't climb out after you, moving to sit as the last passenger is unloaded. The guards keep their heads down. Their actions are quick, firm, but not entirely unkind. Once all the passengers are out, they climb back into the vehicle and close the doors. The engine powers up again, and then the bus is gone. You're left alone in an alley, with no idea of where you are or why you've been brought here. The sound of the crowd nearby carries on uninterrupted. Music, chatter and laughter, the occasional sound of a large splash into water. At the end of the alley opposite to where the van left you, the street opens out to a wide artificial river. Gathered on the banks, on several boats across the surface and in the water are hundreds of people: a giant pool party under the blazing summer sun. ◉ 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.

> THE PARTY

The message from El comes the same as previous: insistent, not waiting for any active attempt to open it. Scrolling within your vision as if being written while you're reading it. Who's ready for bus #4? Looks like they want you to have some fun this time, they've dropped them off right on top of the river party. Someone get down there and find them before they fall in, please. The New Amsterdam River Party is a near annual event, scheduled for whenever the heat begins to really climb. Located roughly at the middle of the river's length, six large boats take anchor, blocking any water commute for the day. Smaller boats move between them and the river banks, taking any passengers who'd prefer not to get wet back and forth. The area is decorated for the occasion, with several huge palm tree and mermaid sculptures curving over the river, flashing in alternating neon colors. Curling strings of bright lights are strung between them, dangling low and promising a truly flamboyant light show when the sun goes down. For the moment the the focus is fun under the sun. Colorful floats, balls and slides are strewn across the water and banks, with a wide array of water pistols, balloons and slings available at stalls. Beach umbrellas offer shade along the banks, and music blares from the boats, where food sellers have booths and tables to feed the crowd and provide plenty of cool drinks. Lifeguards take posts, watching everything with careful eyes, and large, marked stalls declare themselves to be skincare centers, handing out free sunscreen and reminding everyone to regularly reapply, especially if they've been in the water. In all the colorful, skimpy swimwear and sunglasses, six bewildered people in white scrubs are sure to stand out. Hopefully the citizens are having too much fun to care, but with such attentive lifeguards and event security around, it would be best to find the new arrivals in the crowd as quickly as possible.

> THE SAFEHOUSE

Access to the safehouse is a hatch hidden behind stacks of empty storage shelves in the back of an abandoned supermarket in an outer district of the city. The immediate area is similarly abandoned, empty stores, flanked by several blocks of dive bars and clubs which cater to more niche tastes. A place where people can come and go unseen, or, if seen, not spoken of. A dark haired woman called Gaby is ready to greet the new arrivals and get them settled in, brusque and no-nonsense – she'll be open for in depth questions later, but will advise everyone to ask the people who brought them in for the beginning bits of information. ◉ The safe house is a large open space, 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. ◉ While there were previously also NPC occupants of the safehouse, natives to New Amsterdam, these people have now been moved on to somewhere safer. A few of their belongings remain, discarded or accidentally abandoned. ◉ Gaby will make it clear to all new arrivals that if they have any requests or queries, they should contact her or El. ◉ 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 will not be allowed to leave the safehouse until AUGUST 09. 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

Welcome to Meadowlark, newbies! 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 August 9 (November 16). 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, or if they'd like to join Morningstar, 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 November calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month. As a reminder, AC for new characters will be 10 comments across 2-4 threads, while current characters will need to provide the full AC of 20 comments across 2-4 threads. AC will be posted on November 20 and close on November 27. If you do not reply to AC, you will be considered idled and dropped from the game. We will not post a warning list.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

b, kind of.

[evite]

[ this time around, daisy takes it easy. she'd barged into the safehouse last time, made aggressive attempts at bonding — empathy bond or not, it had been an exhausting process. this time, she tries to take it slow, scout out the new arrivals, figure out how they interact with others to figure out what approach (if any) she wants to make.

she watches the blond interact with bobbi, and the gentleness of it all makes her smile despite herself. she doesn't want to interrupt, but when the other woman finally heads off to see to something else, daisy slides in. ]

Hey. [ #casual ] Scale of one to ten, how much does your brain feel like it's going to explode?

option b for adoption

[mercurio]

[prompto finds it somewhat relieving, the fact that he keeps getting bumped from one interaction to another, allowing little time for himself to sit back and immerse himself back into thoughts of self-loathing.]

[it's a welcome reprieve, and he almost feels like his usual self, surprise a catalyst as he sits up straighter on the uncomfortable cot and is altogether so impressed with how many girls have come up to talk to him.]

[though what does impress him most is how casual and easy it seems. he's not trying to prove a point or appear as anything that he's not.]

Honestly? Feels like it's already exploded.

[it's a bit easier--it feels a bit easier.]

I feel like I should have a name tag.

[he stands, the back of his knees straining, but he definitely should try and keep his muscles and joints stretching and moving.]

I'm Prompto. A super noob, obviously, haha...

[rubbing at the back of his neck, he looks back on his chosen cot and picks up the clothes from the 'welcome package.' should he change from these scrubs? maybe.]

[evite]

That's a good idea, actually.

[ she makes a mental note — a literal, honest-to-god note in the mental workings that are their neural networks — to bring up old-fashioned "hello my name is" nametags for new arrivals. until their network ids kick in and they're released into the world, it might be nice for returning veterans (as daisy was starting to call them in her head) to be able to greet the newbies by something other than "hey you" or "buzzcut" ]

And it's okay, honestly. [ there's a cot across from his, so she's just going to casually claim it for the minute, legs splayed out in front of her as she stretches from one side to the other. if someone who really needs it comes over, she'll get up. ] We all kind of felt that way when we got here. It's a lot to take in. But you're not any more of a noob than I was on day one, so don't feel bad, you know?

[mercurio]

[he appreciates her generous honesty, and the obvious attempt she's making at keeping him in high spirits. the company is so welcome, regardless, that he doesn't want to do or say anything to steer her away from him.]

I know that.

[nodding, he does believe her.]

I'm always feeling out of my depth, though. Before coming here, I thought that I knew what my life was about only to find out that... Well, I didn't.

[he pauses, realizing that he might be oversharing. he feels like he is, but at the same time wanting to do so overwhelms him, even if it's just to a stranger (maybe best if it was to a stranger), because it's already hard enough to think the people he knows wouldn't care about him anymore.]

[...he catches himself biting the inside of his cheek, and stops. he stares down at his feet, shuffles them a bit, then hugs the clothes to himself.]

And now I don't, either.

[unsurprisingly, prompto quickly sits back down again. the continual cycle of feeling sick to the pit of his stomach any time he remembers what happened right before coming here.]

[his voice is quiet and almost too sad, head tilted downwards:]

And I don't know when it'll stop feeling bad.

[evite]

[ talk about shared experiences. daisy can only nod sagely as prompto explains his current predicament, and the parallels of where he is now to where he was before, occasionally offering a quiet hum of acknowledgement as he pauses, trying to assure him that she's listening without taking over completely. when he seems to come to a stop, the sourness of his mood is pretty hard not to notice. ]

It sucks. [ she's not going to lie to him. she might try to make him feel better, but she's not going to outright lie about it. ] Bombshells like that, they suck a lot. You think you know your own life and then something comes out of the blue and — all of a sudden you're trying to figure out how to be a totally different person.

[ if she sounds overly familiar with the idea, it's because she is. identity crises are a bit of a theme in new amsterdam. ]

I can't really troubleshoot your past life, you know, but as far as the whole glowing chest and fun new hairdo are concerned, we're all in this together. You're not the only weirdo trying to figure out your new life.

So don't beat yourself up about it, you know?

[mercurio]

[he looks down at the glow on his chest and presses his hand to it even as she mentions it, reminding himself of just how weird this whole situation is, and yet--ultimately--he isn't alone in it. that's the most he can do for it; if this new life is as weird as it gets, then the difference between this and the reveal of what was going on in the empire's research facilities is that he was alone then, afraid of being found out, but here he can be open about his discomforts.]

...the hair stuff is really upsetting, actually.

[that's a laugh at that, the tension in prompto's shoulders seemingly giving away; he seems to be a bit more relaxed.]

Thanks, though. It'll take a bit for everything to fully register, but... I can do this.

[this... whole new life experience, that is.]

[evite]

Yeah, I know. [ a soft laugh, low and amused. there's some relief in it too, glad to see him relaxing even just a little. ] The buzzcut look is not what I would have signed up for either, and I've definitely had my fair share of edgy haircuts.

[ rip her long flowing early season locks. going undercover had apparently meant sporting a rockin' bob thing... and now? well, whatever this was, she wasn't thrilled with it. ]

But on the bright side, at least you get to try out a selection of rad new hats, right?

[ and by "rad", she means the donation box, which is mostly filled with terrible clothes no one in their right mind would want to wear. but there's always the thrift shops once he's off house arrest, or the more upscale shopping options throughout the city once money is less of an object. ]

[mercurio]

Really? Once I dyed my hair black--but that's about it on edgy haircut spectrum.

[he manages a smile. he's always been kind of conservative about his looks--not wanting to stand out and all that. it's good that he doesn't have to explain it for someone else to get it. besides, he's super self-conscious about his ears, woe is him.]

[perking up at the mention of hats, he sits up straighter and cranes his neck about.]

Are there hats -- in the box with clothes?

[truth be told, he didn't look too hard. he makes to stand, wanting to check it out now.]

[evite]

I mean, they're probably not couture, but there's a little bit of everything.

[ whatever people find, mostly, and bring back for others to use. when she'd arrived, everything had been drab and grey and ill-fitting; on recommendation from clarke, daisy had spent her first few hours of freedom diving through the racks in a nearby thrift shop, picking out clothes that made her feel a little more like herself. since then, she'd come back to the safehouse a few times, dropping off little things here and there that others might like too. ]

Worst case scenario, you could probably rock a towel turban, right?

[ she's only kind of poking fun a little bit... ]