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

[mercurio]

[three weeks is a lot of time, is what prompto thinks.]

Right. Everything does.

[but if others have, then he can also put himself up to those standards and try to reach them, too. he'll have to work hard to not fall behind.]

Hopefully some interesting stuff happens here. What are we supposed to be doing anyway?

[batricide]

No one knows. Integrate and try to figure out the why and how.

[ which isn't terribly comforting. he'll... Leave out the 'interesting' events he's run into so far. ]

[mercurio]

[probably for the best. prompto can find out about those later when it's not information overload.]

Sounds promising.

[he sighs and his shoulders slump, elbows pressed on his thighs as he clasps his hands together.]

So... New ones stay here for a bit, then we go and integrate, yeah?

[batricide]

Precisely.

[ Okay, okay. Be halfway decent at this. ]

It gives you time to familiarize yourself with the neural interface and time to ensure the complacency drug is out of your system. If you have any friends or family members here they're welcome to stay with you. You can also stay on after the initial adjustment period or find somewhere else to live. There's no rush.

[mercurio]

Yeah, that's gonna be a bitch and a half to get used to. [his lips twist] I mean, it's like a phone in my brain. Can't be too hard. I'm one of those kids who grew up with tech, so it's not super crazy to think about...

[he's mostly rambling to himself]

[mostly because he's trying to avoid thinking about 'friends' or 'family.' that'd be halfway traumatizing as of now.]

...how do we know if there's people we know here? Is there a phone directory in our brains, too?

[he'll forget about the whole 'finding a place to live' bit and panic about it later lol]

[batricide]

There's a secure network that only we have access to. You can scour the list of users to see if anyone you recognize is there.

[ It's fine. Be a Batboy and decide to live in an abandoned warehouse with no running water or electricity. It's totally normal. ]

Your name won't show up until they've created your network ID. You'll have to provide them with one.

[mercurio]

[is that how you're living your life?... please love yourself.]

That makes sense.

[creating an ID though, prompto looks up at that, eyes flitting back and forth over the ceiling, as if considering something.]

...does it have to be my real name? Or can it be some crazy username?

[batricide]

To my understanding, you're able to use an alias so long as it resembles a real name.

[ He keeps his tone carefully neutral, like he isn't still pissy that someone said that 'night wing' wasn't a real name. which... it isn't, but that doesn't mean they get to tell him that. ]

[mercurio]

[damian's too legit to betray anything he's discontent with...]

Please tell me at least someone has used the opportunity for a really dumb pun.

[it's the small things he's looking forward to.]

[batricide]

I don't know.

[ puns are the LOWEST FORM OF HUMOR why are you all like this. ]

[mercurio]

[prompto cracks a grin at that.]

Hafid's not into puns, got it. [either you're really into them or you aren't; prompto knows both kind of people.] I'm not that great at them, but I have a friend who... well, he's really mastered them.

[not that damian would halfway appreciate an anecdote or two, but prompto's just trying to hold on to a sense of friendliness where he can.]

So...

[he crosses his arms] This place any similar to where you're from?

[batricide]

[ While he is terrible at people -- he knows the importance of just listening and talking to get your mind off of a terrible situation. Or, well - he understands that normal people who didn't grow up under his circumstances need it. That idle chatter just tends to make him restless when stressed.

And he's trying to be better at this. So, in the very least, he doesn't have certain people breathing down his neck about doing things wrong.

He leans against the wall, folding his arms. ]

I have some acquaintances that enjoy making them. They're not very good at it. [ And he shakes his head. ] And no. Nothing like home. You?

[mercurio]

[it's a good exercise in socialization. prompto's not being his usual obnoxious self, so it might be for the best that this is the first impression (debatable) that damian gets from him.]

It can get a little annoying, yeah.

[there's almost something nice about this place not being like someone else's home.]

To be honest? No idea. I haven't seen much of it so far, duh... But! We don't have all this technological stuff back where I'm from! Magic's a big thing instead. Just royalty, though.

[batricide]

[ there is. a lot to unpack in that statement. he decides to tackle what is probably the least invasive thing instead of asking the first question that comes to mind. which would have been asking if he'd grown up in a bubble. ]

Your magic is limited to royalty?

[mercurio]

[please don't ask him that...]

Yeah! It comes from this huge crystal that has been given the power of the Astrals, or something, and its full power can only be reigned in by the royal family. They do lend it to other people, though.

Like... My best friend, he's, uh, he's part of the royal family, and I got to use his magic. Before coming here, I guess.

[also a fact about prompto: he overshares.]

[batricide]

[ bless u prompto. you're a terrible liability in a secret ops mission but bless u. ]

And the astrals are...?

[mercurio]

Bahamut, Ramuh, Titan, Leviathan, Shiva, and Ifrit! [he intones that like it's a song--]

We learned about them in class, uh.

[geez]

They're like--gods? Gods! They're pretty scary to look at, some of 'em. Ifrit's been dead for a while though, but that's one god I wouldn't want to meet. Nope. Hard pass.

[batricide]

[ Well, that's a surprise. He recognizes a few of those names... but he suspects there's probably a far different context there. ]

Gods are almost universally assholes. If you get the chance to meet one, don't.

[mercurio]

Well, I've already met three!

[he leans back, throwing his arms out and leaning into them on the cot.]

They're super intimidating... but they help us out during battle sometimes. My friend, the one who gets to use magic, right, he gets to -- hang out with them, in layman's terms.

[batricide]

[ Interesting. ]

Does he channel their power? [ Is this a Shazam situation? Does he shout BRITS and grow like a foot? ]

[mercurio]

Kind of? It's complicated.

But... yeah! Something like it.

[he nods, proud of his very cohesive explanation. clearly.]

[sure was good to go down something familiar like that.]

Is that kind of stuff normal for you?

[batricide]

I've seen it in my own world. Gods and magic are less prevalent than technology and metahumans, but I know two people who could channel the magic of the Gods.

[ And once he kicked the God of Love in the face. ]

[mercurio]

Oh.

[alternate worlds are so... cool. but it just means that whatever seems unique to prompto, it might not quite be?]

[huh]

What... are metahumans?

[batricide]

People with superhuman abilities or abnormalities, either natural or artificial. It can happen through accidents, experimentation, genetics, cloning, alien DNA. [ The list is really endless. ] We've all been made into metas upon arrival here.

[ But how? He doesn't know. ]

[mercurio]

[the list of reasons makes him feel sick all of a sudden. experimentation, genetics, cloning-- right back to the alabaster cradle he's trying to climb out of.]

Ri...ght. I see.

[he rubs at his hands nervously again.]

At least we're all in this together, huh.