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

[selfimage]

[ game's on, Dick Grayson.

with dark painted nails, Loki gets to his feet and sets the can (green beans? okra? something like that) on the counter. he rolls it on his edge lazily, balancing it there. he has a feeling he knows what this is about, and he hasn't decided exactly he wants to handle it. it could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on his whims, because, you know—Loki. ]

Yes, yes—[ he twists his other hand in the air in a dramatic gesture. ]—we could all say a lot of things. That doesn't make the whole loss-of-autonomy-and-subsequent-time any more palatable. Multiversal displacement at the sloppy hands of a mysterious figure is always a whole lot of disorienting.

So, what do you say?

[ he says it so casually, like it's any other Sunday for him. of course, being divinity comes with a whole load of alternate experiences that really expose how flimsy perceptions really are. ]

[preceded]

You don't think you covered it sufficiently?

[Far be it for him to gripe about other people's coping methods, least of all if they don't hurt anyone else- but the blase attitude hand waving of the whole thing- even if the content isn't exactly wrong, the way that knowing his body has been altered, perhaps irrevocably- makes him feel as if his skin is going to crawl- and at the moment, combined with the multiverse in action- he can't stomach the idea of making commentary.

Especially in depth commentary, with someone he doesn't know- and isn't sure he wants to, given Jason. Instead, he redirects, still polite and not the least bit subtle]

What I want to know is- where you planning to cook anything with that? Could taste better than the chili.

[selfimage]

[ not only has he been here longer, it's not his first time around the multiversal block. usually people want to know more, try to work it out and place it, but Dick diverts and goes right for the obvious. Loki tilts his head at him, as if somehow, the whole thing was planned. ]

Those of us that have been here long enough are set free into the world to pursue it at our pleasure. [ it's not really pleasurable, but there's a tinge to his voice that screams exaggeration. ] Some of us even have kitchens. I plan on making something better than chili.

[ questionable, questionable chili with bugs. ]

Do you have a name, or are you going to give me something made-up? [ he sounds partially amused. Damian is still running around as Hafid when Jason calls him little D, and Jason went from Jay to Jay Danger to Jason in the span of about a week. ]

[preceded]

[He knows more than enough to start with, and anyone who might be willing to hold Jason's secrets- might even be helping him, with whatever goal he's trying to achieve, that he'd rather Dick not be aware of- he can't use as a source of accurate information. And what he'd offered, what he still offers- others have covered.

Still, he arches a brow and goes for some shade of amused] Something better than chili, but you started with canned goods.

[He may not have any room to talk, when it comes to himself, personally- but he still knows enough, of living under Bruce Wayne's roof at one point, that the fresher something is- the better. And that while he might be aiming for a more well rounded, passable meal- he can guess it's likely to come out just as weird, with all their fun limitations.

His tongue presses to the back of his teeth, and he sends his gaze skywards for a moment. Thinks, and doesn't say, you sure you don't already know it?, offers, instead-]

It's generally good form to offer your own first, in an introduction. But it's Richard.

[selfimage]

[ the only way Loki responds is by gifting him with a quick show of his tongue. for a good measure, he balances one of the cans on its rim, holding it there with a dark nailed finger. he remembers the conversation that he just had with Jason—if anyone else shows up, I'm screwed is what he said. ]

Ah, I know—I'm not feeling the good form at the moment. [ a smooth, easy admission. he even manages to make it sound good as he balances the cadence of the sentence. ] I'm Loki of Asgard. Here, I go by Loki Odinson, but the whole Odinson thing is more my brother's surname.

Well met and all appropriate pleasantries extended, of course.

[ that's not to say he doesn't wear it with some sense of pride (most of the time, other times he does not). it was easier to keep cover when their names had matched; Thor wasn't about to stop calling him brother any time soon. ]

Do you go by Richard? Like Prince? One name does the trick.

[preceded]

That right?

[Well doesn't that just make two of them? This isn't exactly Dick's standard for greeting others either, suspicions or not. Guess that's what mass kidnapping and violating science does, to a person. The can tilts and Dick redirects his gaze to it, as if it's suddenly much more fascinating than anything else Loki could be doing.

His expression doesn't change, from that slightly amused, if not closed off smile- it wouldn't be the first time he'd dealt with the gods- or beings who might as well have been one- he's deal with demons, too- but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow. A god- a real one, shouldn't be able to be removed by anything less than one of their own kind- such as the Titans being overthrown by their children and imprisoned.

It's unsettling, the way Kara being here had been unsettling, and it's almost easier not to believe it at all. To act like he's the person who responds to being called out by claiming Queenhood]

Of course. [Not quite sure he believes that, and then-] Likewise.

[He's certainly had worse introductions in his life, met worse people- Loki, after all, isn't attempting to murder him on the onset. There's the slightest pause- not because he particularly feels strange about being forthcoming with his name- he's a media figure in his civilian and vigilante life- he's used to being recognized, to having even something so simple known before he ever even opens his mouth. He's till just mulling over the reveals from before, and then-]

I don't. [Not by Richard, or by a singular name- however you want to take that] Grayson.

[selfimage]

[ it explains his cavalier attitude, anyway. certainly this isn't the first time that he found himself in a multiversal conspiracy. (and he figures it won't be the last time, either.) there are parts that still bother him that he's buried away somewhere that no one can see. it'll explode one day when he overflows around the edges, but it won't be today. ]

Mister Grayson, then.

[ Loki lifts the finger, and the can rolls over the counter, again and again, until the stands like a column. ]

You're very tightlipped. I suppose we all cope in our own ways. The shock takes a while to wear off.

[preceded]

You prefer the formality? It's not necessary.

[But he's certainly not going to argue over it, either. It's infinitely preferable to being called something like 'Richie', or to have to go by Richard full time, even if he did make it an option.

When Loki continues to roll the can, and keeps talking though- Dick's smile will thaw a tiny little bit. Because yes, being tight lipped is just part of the job- and it's certainly a method for coping- but humour is his preferred method, so- dryly]

Would you have preferred some tears?

[selfimage]

It would mean that you have less to hide.

[ Loki tilts his head easily to watch him. it's said lightly, like it's something that he doesn't have any particular sort of judgement for either way. he doesn't, really, it's just more of an observation on his part.

he taps a finger over the top of the can. ]

But I suppose that we're all hanging on to something. Deep, inside, where we're all soft and squishy and blah blah blah. [ pushing off from the counter, Loki rolls to his feet. ] You didn't cry, did you?

[preceded]

Or it means I'm used to it.

[Maybe he comes from back to the future, and his little souped up motorcycle takes him to different timelines, where he stops crime. And maybe that's the world's worst comic book premise. Who knows?

But it definitely makes his mouth twitch, where he wants to thin it- give way to the suspicion that fills him. Makes him wonder exactly what Jason told him. What it is that Loki thinks he'd have to hide- other than the unease they all apparently share]

All over my rescuer. [Liar, liar pants on fire] What was your reaction?

[A bunch of impotent rage and attempting to access your godly powers to leave?]

[selfimage]

[ maybe he's just Timecop.

this isn't Loki's first trip around the multiversal block, either. he's done it several times before, in this life and in others, on purpose and not. there's still a wall between them that has Jason Todd scribbled in large, pink, bubble letters. neither of them give into it, even when they can't see across it. ]

Anger—I don't take well to people striping me of my autonomy. [ especially when chaos gods are all about freedom. ] To my understanding, most people don't like to accept complacency.

[preceded]

[Don't harsh his dreams.

And he can relate to that. That loss of autonomy, of knowing you're being tracked every waking moment, through every door you pass through, every street camera. The chip is like a bright beacon, and the thing in their chest when it activates- even more so.

A beat]

The individual maybe. One could make an argument that as a whole- all you're going to find is complacency.

[In any large system, in any crowd of voters, in the way people turn their heads at a crime. People don't like change, and they're quick to settle into what happens, to make it all feel normal again, and will tell themselves whatever necessary to get there]

[selfimage]

[ knowing that he's still being tracked, drained of his freedoms and most likely being used is not something that he likes to think about, despite it being on the forefront of his mind. for a moment, he looks like he ate something sour. ]

I'm far more optimistic than that.

[ a pause, then he tilts his head back at Dick. ]

You'll see when you're allowed to leave. This world is filled to the brim with tension—I would say closer to a breakthrough. But really, who am I to say? [ just a god of chaos, here. ] I've been drained of my divinity and my perceptions. What I'm left with is ... ah, well ...

[preceded]

Not exactly your most definable trait, is it?

[Optimism? And the world here might be brimming with tension, with the populace on the edge of revolution- but that didn't necessarily mean the people here were interested in being part of it. Not everyone might be like him. He's not ruling out the possibility that some are more used to being civilians, or more used to being the brains and not the brawn.

Or more content to make sure they get back in one piece, to worry about paving the way. Dick considers a moment, after what he's heard here and adds] Something not of your own making?

[selfimage]

[ there's a moment where Loki looks absolutely and entirely mock offended, holds a sprawled hand with dark nails to his chest. eyes blink once—twice!—widening in faux incredulity. ]

I'll have you know that this is absolutely, positively, not my fault!

[ he huffs and tilts his head in Dick's direction. ]

[preceded]

[That eyebrow arches. And while he might believe that it's entirely possible for Loki to be just as much a victim here as anyone else- the anger, the demeanour when explaining his initial reaction certainly supports it- he also can't help but roll with the opposite.

You're mock offence is adorable]

You know, the people who have to go out of their way to deny something, usually did it.

[He brushes a hand over his shorn hair, and says, critically] Thanks for the hair cut, but I could have done without.

[selfimage]

[ everyone always blames Loki. he's like a convenient scapegoat when all goes bad. need to point a finger? well, Loki did it. the truth of the matter is that it could be his fault, albeit unintentionally, he wants to believe that a future evil self had nothing to do with this, but the possibility is there.

and the possibility sucks. ]

Everyone has come in looking like this, it's part of the aesthetic. No matter, hair grows back, and you'll be able to build your wardrobe soon enough.

[ he pushes off from the counter and swaggers as he walks closer toward the door. ]

[preceded]

That was included in the opening tutorial.

[He's not quite sure how well he believes some of it, but- there's proof here too. In how Jason appears, in how Loki does- that eventually freedom from the safehouse is a distinct possibility. And if he knows his brothers at all- his wardrobe, and a few other necessities are likely to expand before he has to fend for himself.

When Loki moves towards the door, Dick pushes himself up and away from the doorjamb and then steps further into the room and off to the side. He may be ending this encounter with more questions than answers- especially as to who Loki is as a person, or his possible connection to Jason- but he's not going to hinder him leaving, if he got precisely what he came for]

See you around.

[selfimage]

[ there's an easy sway to his walk as he passes him, the can of vegetables in one hand. there's a little curl of a dangerous smile on his face that looks like he's satisfied, like he gained something that he wanted, whatever it was. ]

Toodles, Mister Grayson.

[ there's a pause. ]

The worst part's over, the rest you get used to. Ah, or maybe that is really the worst part.

[ the rest will most likely come from Jason. now that he's got a feel of what exactly he was talking, yabbering loudly post-chest surgery, he can put some more pieces of what he meant into places. there were times that Jason started in the middle—on purpose, Loki figured, it was a strategy—left out parts here and there that he either didn't want to deal with or didn't want to say. meeting Dick was a treat in itself.

Loki maintains his confident stride back through the safehouse and to the door. ]