larkers: (WARBLER)
MEADOWLARK MODS ([personal profile] larkers) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarklogs2020-11-21 12:11 pm

EVENT #011

WHO: Everyone on Earth in Meadowlark's world.
WHERE: The Aerie, a different world.
WHEN: Late July 2512.
WHAT: The first log of our AU event, taking place in an AU world that puts on battle royale events to cull the massive overpopulation.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Overwritten minds, horrible dystopian conditions, and more!

> EVENT #011

On the morning of July 26th, every living person on Earth will be spirited away from where they were mere moments before. Just like that. Hover cars will descend slowly in transit, trains will come to a stop without a screech of their breaks, and the streets throughout every single of the 104 megacities will be left barren, empty, and lifeless. Even those lost and hidden, not seen for months, are swept gently away with the rest of their brethren. No stone will go unturned.

The world upon their return may pick up where it's left off, or it will be changed in some way. Will it be July 26th when everyone finds themselves back where they were standing before? Or will something else happen during this time? Now that the supposed lifeblood of this planet is gone, what will happen in their absence? The world may not be able to go on how it had been.

Perhaps the more terrifying question is this: if something is powerful enough to steal away every person, every single one capable of thought, ideas, conflict, war, and more, what else could happen?

Perhaps it's for the best that it may be awhile before anyone has to worry about that.

For now, they've entered a world that's one week away from its next Quarry event: a place where The Aerie's criminals fight to prove they deserve to keep their life.

> THE WORLD ENDS WITH YOU (THE AERIE)

The Aerie is a structure that should not exist.

Made of steel and concrete, it gives off the impression that its guts were arranged haphazardly, as if an amateur surgeon had pulled them out and tried to put them back in again. Steel beams stretch out between buildings, connecting them together. There may have been a wall of concrete around this beam once upon a time, but it splintered and fell away, exposing its insides and opening up a pathway that people have taken for granted in the past fifty to a hundred years. Power lines hang in loose tangles throughout this little world, ready to fall away at the slightest breeze, then splinter and spark.

Most of the insides of The Aerie are barely preserved. Trying to do that would be an impossible task: there are too many people, too many who live in concrete layered on one another like stacks of broken shelves, too many who pass through open maws of ruptured pathways, crawling up onto the roof of a business for what they think is a shortcut to a higher level. Brittle walls that splinter off into clouds of chalky white dust are everywhere and anywhere.

How The Aerie came together was once a majestic feat: a place for people to live, thrown together as extinction surged forward like a towering beast on the horizon. There was a mix of minds behind the action, as well as a hollow sense of desperation. Even those who brought The Aerie into being knew that their lives were on the line. It was a matter of "make this work" or die. So, they made it work.

What's truly impossible about The Aerie isn't the hulking structures merged together at all manner of impossible angles, but the outer layer of this little world, looming overhead in shimmering, constant glory. The people of The Aerie are protected, safe; the world outside is a nebulous, uncertain mess of greys and greens and reds and blues. Storms surge just outside of the wall of The Aerie with sharp, constant bolts of lightning that batter the surface overhead. Once upon a time, the people of this little world feared those bolts cutting through and destroying their home. But it's been long enough now. No one lives in fear of what's outside, and no one wonders, not anymore. After all, the people who made it outside were never seen again. For a time, some people could watch through the clear walls as these escapees' bodies turned to irradiated mush with only bones left behind. In time, those bones withered away to dust. And with them, their memories were forgotten.

Within The Aerie, life goes on, just as it must: riddled with fear, with survival often depending on the ability to escape notice.

Only two parts of The Aerie remain unscathed, untouched by the passage of time and haphazard construction of this refuge:

The Volary, which stands tall and pristine at the heart of The Aerie. Lights burn within The Volary all day and all night, showing signs of life that most of the people outside of its walls will never see for themselves.

And then the Quarry, a structure built in haste and out of necessity. The same people who brought The Aerie together also made the Quarry. At its base are a series of office buildings, setting up monthly arena events where the guilty fight to show that they deserve to survive.

These two things are the source of all the fear in The Aerie. It's what keeps everyone's mind off the crumbling walls, the storms outside, and the miserable, unending passage of time.

> SOAK UP THE GLORY (THE VOLARY)

When The Aerie came into being, so did The Volary. Far from fragmented like the rest of this tiny, tiny world, it stands pristine, with brown bricks lining its exterior, and strong steel beams holding it strong within. Either through its making or its care, The Volary hasn't suffered from the hands of time like the rest of the world. Anyone outside of The Volary doesn't know the truth, though they could likely guess.

Inside of The Volary lives the members of Parliament: the newly-joined Magpies, the comfortable Rooks, and the looming and most powerful, the Cardinals.

The Cardinals live at the very top. Even after over two hundred years, the Cardinals remain impenetrable. New members are accepted into their ranks from time to time, granted secrets of a bygone era, but the rest of the world remains ignorant to their knowledge. At the heart of this structure is a cult, a belief system; they are the ones who decide if The Aerie lives or dies. For now, it continues to live. Of course, any other path would lead to their devastation as well. They may be nearly immortal, but they aren't truly untouchable and eternal.

Beneath them are the rest of Parliament, cocky in their comfort. Many were born into it, but some were raised into the ranks, finding their own footholds. Sometimes these elevations seem random; sometimes these promotions happen with purpose, with someone driving to catch the eye of a Rook who's looking for someone like-minded to have around them.

Outside of the Magpies, the Rooks that were once Magpies, and the once-members of The Congregation outside, everyone seems blissfully ignorant of the dilapidated world outside. There are some workers from the outside world who know, and some Carrion lucky to have their place among the elite—but there is a sense that some things shouldn't be spoken about, or else they may need to be responsible for it all. While the outside begins to age without any sign of renewal, this compound lives on—untouched, unbothered.

The Volary is set up in levels. The very bottom is where all the businesses that serve the people up above are located. It's where animals are raised and butchered, and where food is prepared before it's brought up to the upper levels. There are numerous common areas, but these can be rented out for any whim of any members of Parliament. Even the businesses themselves can be shuttered for the day, with preferred chefs invited to the upper levels to prepare meals to deal with these circumstances. (Someone from the Congregation can train as a chef in the Cotillion, even if they've never handled food of this nature their entire lives. It's a good job to have, as a number of favored chefs have been elevated to Magpies.)

Beyond the shops is the first level of living quarters for the various members of Parliament. Many Magpie and Rook suites are side by side, though some Rooks prefer not to be housed next to a newcomer and have made their preference known throughout the years. These suites are designed and adapted to its inhabitant's every need, and if someone is born into the family, they inherit their family's suite once someone dies. How is it that there could be space for all the members of Parliament, and so little room outside of the walls of this compound? Consider that yet another question that members of Parliament don't need to concern themselves with.

At the uppermost levels are the suites belonging to the Cardinals. Unless explicitly invited, no one is allowed onto these floors. Numerous Carrion have died throughout the years because they wandered up the wrong set of stairs, knowing that risk was looming over them.

And at the very top is where The Conclave meets. Newly elected members of Parliament visit this room once to receive their powers, only they recall nothing. No one knows what happens within the inner walls of The Conclave. Some have attempted to spy throughout the years. Needless to say, that didn't go well.

The Volary is the home of the pampered, the rich: the people who can ignore the dying world beyond them. Even those inheriting a sense of importance feel as if they've done enough—when they clearly don't do enough. At least those stuck outside may find themselves walking through the heavy front doors of this compound one day. Too bad it's based upon the powers of Parliament, and whether they deign to let someone inside. The only good news is that someone can be buzzed in via their power. That gives a real personal touch, right?

> NO WAY TO LIVE (THE CONGREGATION)

Outside of The Volary, The Aerie is set up in sectors, these sectors acting like rings that move further and further from The Volary up and down throughout The Aerie. Almost by necessity, the rings closer to The Volary are populated by Parliament's favorites. The upkeep around here is better: not pristine, but far from as bad as it gets as someone travels to the outer sectors. Many who have made a name for themselves in the Quarry live in these inner sectors, close to the people of Parliament. Many believe that the inner sectors are still tended to because members of Parliament would hate to face up to the fact of their world dying, and it may not be far from the truth.

In addition to better upkeep, the inner sectors experience less Shrike patrols, with the people allowed to live a life that allows them to remain ignorant to the world around them. They may not be Parliament, but their life in these sectors affords them the feeling of comfort. They don't have to fear their ceiling caving in; they don't have to fear a pipe bursting at an unfortunate moment; they don't have to fear wrongful arrest because they looked at someone the wrong way. It takes a lot for those from the inner sectors to have their lives ruined—but it's not exactly impossible. Of course, this is also where The Cotillion is kept, with numerous buildings and dormitories maintained for its students.

The further and further someone goes away from The Volary, the more life within The Aerie becomes difficult. The worst part is this: no one knows any better. They know the crumbling walls, the faded and peeling wallpaper, the revealed steel beams. They know the frequent Shrike patrols. They know that if they commit a crime, it's on them: they deserve whatever comes their way.

How does someone work in order to get by in these outer sectors? They can help man the bars, because drinking is as much a way of life here as it is back in the regular world. They can help upkeep of The Aerie. Someone can easily enter a trade alongside their compulsory schooling, especially if they aren't special enough for Cotillion training. Electricians are needed throughout. Maintenance of trains is needed throughout. Plumbers are needed throughout. And rations? They come by way of processing plants connected to hydroponic farms. More than a few times throughout the years, these plants have suffered breakdowns, and there have been ration shortages. But don't worry: Parliament continued on eating as if nothing changed outside.

Rations are given out three times a day through numerous rations checkpoints in each sector. These rations are like tasteless protein bars: enough to provide someone the meal they need, a bland mixture of carbohydrates, protein and fat sprinkled with essential nutrients, and little more. Attempts to make them more flavorful throughout the years have failed. Badly. It's probably better that they're bland little morsels. The good news is that they're filling. That may be the only good news.

Life isn't all misery and pain, even if job prospects are largely unfortunate if you're nothing special and the food is literally nothing to talk about. There is a thriving popular culture within The Congregation. There are numerous television shows and movies depicting the distant past, or even a brighter present: one in which the people of The Congregation managed to come together and make their lives better. Oddly enough, these don't tend to act as propaganda. They're just badly written, but done with an eye on hope and perhaps a better life. There are sports and games, though no official leagues have started up, almost certainly because they would compete with the Quarry for airtime.

Members of the Congregation are able to travel anywhere they like within The Aerie thanks to trains, with the only sector the train lines don't access being The Volary. They can peer down over the city, seeing a blurry line of grey all merging together, with people living their lives as best as they can. These trains go near the surface of The Aerie, too, granting someone a close up of the world outside, and reminding them that life could be much, much worse. It could be gone altogether.

> SO SHALL IT BE (QUARRY PREPARATIONS)

With one week remaining until the next Quarry event, preparations continue within The Company's headquarters. Located at the base of the arena out of necessity, The Company's offices are pristine and lifeless in nature. White walls, white ceiling tiles, and white chairs: nothing varies from anything else. How does it remain so surgical at all times? One can only wonder.

Numerous Quarries are being prepared at any given moment, with the televised sensations planned months in advance. Some plans are scrapped depending on competitors. Given the recurrence of Snipes, there are moments where plans need to be changed, where tension needs to be brought in. An arena designer may have to scrap his entire vision for a backup plan.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—The Company is a well-oiled machine. Need some crunch time to make sure a Quarry event is ready on time? The underlings at The Company are used to working long, long days to make it work.

The Quarry this time around is unknown, though there are suspicions of what it might be.

As for those waiting to enter the ring: they're free to live their lives, but many of them are undergoing talent training and preparation for the big event. They're going through interviews, getting sized for any costumes, and being asked to tell their stories. Some of the Snipes may be more than ready for this, while the Guineas will need to figure this out for themselves.

> A WILL TO FIGHT (THE KESTRELS)

Littered throughout the Congregation is a group that's been budding for a while. As much as this world is all they've known, there are some who believe that they deserve something better. The Quarry is unfair, and all throughout the many sectors, there are signs that The Aerie is breaking down and dying, barely keeping it together. These are people who may be afraid, but want to fight despite that fear.

Some of them have made themselves known: bearing a tattoo of a kestrel where others can see. Others hide who they are, but they're waiting. Planning. They strike when they can, but they know that time is running out. There are tiny safehouses throughout, typically through hatches underneath small local businesses that are sympathetic to the kestrels themselves. These people aren't members, but they put themselves at risk every day to protect this movement.

So, they have their sights set on this upcoming Quarry. It's time to bring change to The Aerie—or die trying.

> GOALS FOR THIS LOG

Either through talking ICly or OOCly, we'd like to have the following goals outlined and submitted to our comments below:

What is the Kestrels' plan in all of this? What do they intend to do?
This can include trying to find and meet with Prometheus, just as a note! Overall, we'd like an idea of what they'll be attempting with the upcoming Quarry so that we can work it into the next log.

What is the theme for the next Quarry arena?
We'd like to have some idea of a theme, as well as some submitted puzzles! We know that we're the kings of Vague Ass Puzzles, so feel free to be vague. We just want to give our Quarry participants something to look forward to.

Are there any other factors we need to consider?
Parliament upheaval? Plans to find out what Parliament is doing? Anything else that might come to mind? This is more loose!

We're giving a loose deadline of DECEMBER 7 with the next log going up on DECEMBER 12.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Welcome to part one of our year-end AU event! We meant for this to be primarily be a description log to start play, especially since we feel that most of our critical information is in our Planning Post. We suggest that you do any necessary planning there for your select crews there, as well as use the "DM" system on Warbler for private stuff.

Of course, our questions thread is still open.

Since it's come up in the past: since all characters are in the AU, please feel free to do a catch-all post of anything you might want! Flashbacks! Anything open prompt-wise! Go wild with this stuff. This is always available during events, but we wanted to be explicitly clear here given the nature of this event.

As for mod-run social media, we have a post here on the network where we'll be steadily adding things throughout the event!

Our November Activity Check goes live on DECEMBER 1. AC for the month of December will be check-in only. It's a weird holiday season, but it will undoubtedly still be stressful for all of us.

Our next reserves will open on NOVEMBER 23 and our next application period will open on DECEMBER 1. We intend for all new or returning applicants to be kept outside of the AU. We have a special plotting opportunity and NPC ready for this scenario to help people integrate. However, if you have a friend who's apping to tap into the AU, let us know—we're not 100% married to our plans, but we worried about any new players apping into such a convoluted scenario after so much plotting has already taken place.

That's all for now. Have fun and for those of you who celebrate, have a Happy Thanksgiving! 🦃

flowerpressings: (california poppies)

Henry (Tewkesbury) | Enola Holmes | OTA

[personal profile] flowerpressings 2020-11-22 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
1a. the streets of the Aerie

[Henry (Tewkesbury) can usually be found around, in inner and outer sectors, though he usually stays in the outer. Sometimes he just sits and watches people, eating a little loaf of bread. Maybe another time, he's walking along, reading a book, and he runs straight into you. Or maybe he's doing a card trick for money, a hat sitting on the ground with a few bills in it.]

1b. wildcard

[Got something else in mind? Hit me up on plurk or just write a starter! Whatever works for you!]
flowerpressings: (amaranth)

closed to kestrels

[personal profile] flowerpressings 2020-11-22 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
2a. Kestrel safehouse

[Henry can be found in a various safehouses throughout the day, checking on food and blanket supplies. He does a lot of manual labor in hopes he'll earn the kestrels' respect. He's earned it with some, but not with others, and he wants to fit in badly.

At the moment he's scrubbing the floor. Probably no one would notice if the floors went un-scrubbed, and it's tough work. His nails are dirty and he wears a coat with a missing button, a shirt with a hole at the bottom. The kestrels have kept him alive, and he's grateful.

He notices someone standing nearby and says,
] Watch your step! It's slick.

2b. Kestrel safehouse

[When he's not trying so hard to get respect, he sits in corners on a blanket, curled up and reading a ragged-looking book. He keeps pressed flowers between the pages, little beautiful reminders of his time with Garak.

Today, he has a small bouquet lying next to him, which he seems pretty protective of.
] Don't step on the flowers! I still need to get them in water.

2c. Kestrel safehouse; closed to anyone with au cr with him (as plotted on the plotting post or plurk. Contact me if you want this prompt and don't have plotting with him.)

[Lifting a pencil up and down with your mind is not very exciting, Henry finds. He's doing it, though, lazily letting it float in the air. Someone enters the safehouse, and he approaches them, falling into step with them as the pencil drops to the ground behind him.]

Hey, you were out for a long time. [Then, without even waiting for a breath:] Hey, can I ask you about Prometheus?
flowerpressings: (marigolds)

closed to shrikes

[personal profile] flowerpressings 2020-11-22 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
3a. outer sectors

[Rations are low, so are the supplies in the safehouses. So it makes sense to steal now. Would that woman who saved him understand? That the hunger never goes away, while the rich are eating their fill?

He tries to shrug off that memory, keeping his head low. He couldn't steal in the nicer sectors. He was a big red warning sign, with his raggedy clothes and dirty face. He steals from non-kestrel sympathizers, tucking an apple in his pocket, a little bit of bread, some grapes, cans.

Today, though, he's shooed away, or is seen by an old lady, or a number of unlucky situations. It forces him to go into the inner sectors.

People are looking at him more, with suspicion and dislike in their eyes. He thinks he's made it out of a shop with a can in his pocket when a hand grabs his shoulder.
]
flowerpressings: (hyacinths)

closed to Nill

[personal profile] flowerpressings 2020-11-22 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
[It's dark out when Henry escapes the safehouse, hurrying through the streets and keeping his head low. He doesn't want to attract anyone's attention. Especially not a kestrel.

He makes it to her street and heads to the alley behind her house. There's a decoration on the building that helps him climb up to Nill's balcony. He shakes himself off and takes the flowers from between his teeth.

They haven't known each other an extremely long time, but Henry's always liked Nill. He was actually trying to spy on someone else in the building for kestrel purposes, but he'd fallen for the beautiful girl. Since then, they'd seen each other every week, Henry climbing up to see her. Though this is the first time he's brought flowers. They're carnations, simple and pretty.

He knocks on her door to the balcony as quietly as he can, waiting nervously.
]
myfavoritemurder: (I've done nothing wrong)

[personal profile] myfavoritemurder 2020-11-22 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
This is the kind of conversation that most people have, she knows. It's the sort of thing she remembers distantly from her own childhood, tagging along after her parents as they stopped to chat with friends and neighbors on the street, showing interest in their lives and sharing bits of their own in return. In theory, it should be the easiest thing in the world. In practice, it's like trying to work a muscle that isn't merely atrophied, but that never actually developed properly in the first place.

"Yes," she says stiffly. "I have many interesting commissions. I sold one for a lot of money yesterday, and now I'm working on a-- a hat. And matching gloves." A beat, as she eyeballs the display he'd been adjusting. "Your plants are looking healthy today."
myfavoritemurder: (hey‚ I shot myself in the knee too)

[personal profile] myfavoritemurder 2020-11-22 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
[What.

No, really, what.

It doesn't occur to her to be angry about unexpectedly finding someone else in her apartment, because it doesn't really feel like hers; no matter how much she occasionally wants it to be, the times when it feels like its walls are hemming her in are, in the end, just as frequent.

The Callisto he remembers would have gone to him immediately, dragging a chair right up next to his and pulling him close, cradling him to her. But this Callisto doesn't know that, and even if she did, there's a decent chance that she wouldn't be able to stomach it. She does, however, remember his name and face - from meeting him in Meadowlark, and from the images (photographs, she knows they're called now) on the fridge, where he shows up a lot.]


Bellamy?

[She says, letting the door close behind her as she steps into the apartment, coming up behind him but stopping several feet back from his chair.]
plainsimple: (A simple tailor)

[personal profile] plainsimple 2020-11-22 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
They're dancing on the edge of outright rebellious talk, or at least Julian is and Garak's letting him. What else can he do? Yes, he could arrest the man, but he'd lose so much and so the game continues.

"Exert influence? Is that all you think they're about? They would have far less upkeep to do as well, have to deliver fewer rations, have to worry about crime less. Fewer members of the congregation means fewer resources needed there, and they could even think about rebuilding portions of the Aerie. Improving, even. Is quantity of lives more important than quality, in your opinion?"

The answer will of course be yes. Garak has seen this man at work, he's heard the passion in his voice. He takes another drink, leaning back as well and letting his eyes wander a little. He's going to piss Julian off and that's absolutely part of the plan; the doctor flusters so beautifully. But there's a limit to his fun, because Garak doesn't want the man dead. He's a little more sentimental and attached than he really should be.
gossipkinesis: (listen ∘ booze ∘ sassy)

1

[personal profile] gossipkinesis 2020-11-22 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ You'd think that Margo would be used to Thor's nonsense by now, given that she's known him all her life. And as a younger girl, she found his pranks an actual laugh riot, even going so far as to suggest some of the crueler ones to him. And sure, they'd had their dalliances after one too many drinks (granted, who hadn't Margo had a dalliance with?).

But she's not interested in repeating the experience now. Perhaps a few months ago she would have considered his offer but for now, she rolls her eyes at him and takes a long taste of her drink before she turns towards him, eyebrow raised, her dress clinging to her in all the right ways.

For all she knows, he's drunk and didn't recognize her from behind (though he should) or maybe he's just trying his luck.]
Been there, done that, Thor.
Edited (EDITED FOR FAAAASHION) 2020-11-22 07:26 (UTC)
frontierbashir: (pic#13401128)

[personal profile] frontierbashir 2020-11-22 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
Julian can only assume he's entertaining as the reason Garak hasn't arrested him yet. Or perhaps he's a fan of some of the obstacles in past Quarries that Julian had helped concoct.

Unfortunately, talking to Garak so often also means Garak has had a chance to figure out exactly what buttons to press. He looks at Garak sharply.

"I'm a doctor and I don't look at people en masse. If someone is suffering in front of me, I will help them, regardless of who they are." He doesn't take his eyes off of Garak as he takes another large, huffy sip of his drink. That goes beyond their games. He refuses to allow questioning of the worth of people's lives just because of the class they're born into.
plainsimple: (Does not bode well)

[personal profile] plainsimple 2020-11-22 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
"They are, thank you." He needs to still act like everything is fine even though she's being odd. It isn't like there's any crimes she's committed that he can report her for, and Garak doesn't believe in sending people to the Quarry just for fun. They may be rivals of sorts, but that doesn't deserve a death sentence.

"I'm expecting the blooms on this piece to be purple. Hoping, even, because I believe that's the color theme for one of my patron's next parties. I assume the hat and gloves are for a special event?" Matching suggested as much, and it's semi-safe territory.
frontierbashir: (julian-66)

2a

[personal profile] frontierbashir 2020-11-22 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
Julian switches his usual safehouse from time to time to offer his medical services around the Aerie, especially for any kestrels that can't make it to his side of the ring.

It's usually empty, unless there's a patient waiting for him, but today there's someone on the floor. Scrubbing.

Julian is better dressed than most around these parts, due to his working in the Company as the medical advisor. He makes a comfortable wage. However, on his back is a sack full of supplies that he brought with him to restock.

This person looks like a child, the closer he gets. Are they recruiting children now?

Eyes widened, he hardly registers what the other says, initially. It finally clicks.

"Oh, thank you. Er...Are you new around here?" he starts, as he slowly and carefully crosses the floor over to a set of drawers where he begins unloading medical supplies and sorting them into different areas.
plainsimple: (Now now Doctor)

[personal profile] plainsimple 2020-11-22 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
He smiles, cold and amused.

"Really." Would Dr. Bashir save Homelander if he was injured? The man had quite the reputation. What about some of the more open and cruel Shrikes? "I would be careful about such declarations, doctor. The time might come when they're put to the test, and we'd hate to see you turned into a liar."

Would Julian save Garak's life over a congregation member? Garak distinctly doubts it. Maybe he's had enough fun tonight. He does have some surveillance to conduct tomorrow - a suspicion he's long had seems to have been accurate and there will probably be an arrest soon. Maybe he should get some rest.

Garak stands, nods to the doctor, and drains his drink. "Have a good night, doctor. I'm certain I'll see you around again before soon."
jettisons: (Default)

[personal profile] jettisons 2020-11-22 05:51 am (UTC)(link)
[Bellamy certainly expects... something. If not something so demonstrative, then at least her hand on his shoulder. What he gets is Callisto looking at him like she doesn't know why he's there, keeping her distance, and he doesn't understand it. Didn't she see? She must not have. It's the only thing that makes the barest amount of sense.

But it also makes this worse, because he hadn't prepared himself to come here and have to say... anything at all, really. He looks away, gaze dropping to the table, and clears his throat.]


You didn't see the announcements?
malta: (☾ nine.)

[personal profile] malta 2020-11-22 06:01 am (UTC)(link)
Joe will be enacting a PROPAGANDA CAMPAIGN! Using his own personal printing press (or, like, printer idk) he will be printing anti-Parliament fliers and posters. All will be emblazoned with the same hand drawn picture of a kestrel breaking free from a cage and a rotating series of slogans:

  • WHILE I BREATHE, I HOPE
  • NO GODS, NO MASTERS
  • YOU CANNOT KILL US
  • WE CANNOT BE CAGED

  • These same slogans and kestrel will also be found graffitied on a number of buildings in the lead up the the next Quarry. Vive la liberté!!! (Anyone who is a Kestrel is free to be slapping these posters up or say they've assisted in the graffiti process.)
    Edited 2020-11-22 06:04 (UTC)
    gossipkinesis: (Default)

    soak up the glory.

    [personal profile] gossipkinesis 2020-11-22 07:23 am (UTC)(link)
    [ margo's all dressed up and ready to go herself. and while margo excels at this kind of event, all charm and wit and sex appeal, she feels a little less inclined to mingle this evening and so, she's pleased when she sees her dearest friend, grabbing herself a drink, calling out as she crosses the room towards her (despite already having a drink in her hand)]

    Get me one of those!
    gossipkinesis: (listen ∘ skeptical ∘ frustrated)

    margo hanson - the magicians - rook

    [personal profile] gossipkinesis 2020-11-22 08:01 am (UTC)(link)
    soak up the glory...
    [ if you wish to see the cardinal's daughter, margo (a powerful rook in her own right), you do not need to look too hard. she is easy enough to spot with her striking features, haughty look and the eye patch she wears ( the fabric of which always seems to match whatever it is she is wearing perfectly).

    (A) most often, she is at some event, some party. and she is every bit the rook she was born, if she does not like you, she will judge you, perhaps even dare to say something rude about you just when you are within earshot. if she likes you, she will greet you with a kiss on each cheek and share whatever gossip she might have or complement what you are wearing or tell you who designed her dress. (the eye patch to match, of course). or if she pretends to like you, she might do all those things as well. or she might ask for a drink. perhaps you are one of her past lovers (male or female, it does not matter), she finds delight in many forms but lately, she has not been in touch or asked for a late-night booty call. there's a reason for it. good luck getting it out of her though.

    if she is not at a party then she is (B) waiting for the conclave to end their session, waiting to speak to her father (aka Stephen Strange) or some other cardinal (not her brother Homelander, gross, he's the worst and she's way better than him) whom she might need to deliver a message. but you might also see her in (C) common area, heading towards her rooms with whatever treasures she'd found for herself at whatever shop she had visited. if you're a rook, she might stop you to show you her find. if you're a magpie, she will tell you to get out of her way, she has no time for your lot. she was born a rook, she is the daughter of a powerful cardinal after all and she believes this city's structures have a purpose, a rhyme AND reason.

    and why shift away from that, right?]


    message her...

    [ hit up her inbox or comment here @ popthebubbly ]


    wildcard...

    [ come at me with ideas! here is margo's BACKGROUND + PLOT COMMENT ]

    Edited 2020-11-22 08:03 (UTC)
    flowerpressings: (black-eyes Susans)

    [personal profile] flowerpressings 2020-11-22 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
    The boy looks up again, grinning and nodding, seemingly proud to be a kestrel.

    "Yes, I'm new. I'm a friend of Bellamy Blake's, if you know him."

    He watches the man unload his bag, his mouth opening to an 'o' in understanding.

    "You're the medic. Nice to meet you. I'm Henry."

    He stands carefully and holds out a grubby hand to shake, grinning again, his brown hair falling in his face.
    flowerpressings: (azaleas)

    tell me if this doesn't work c:

    [personal profile] flowerpressings 2020-11-22 08:41 am (UTC)(link)
    Henry's in his store again, like clockwork. The boy is always smiling, especially around plants. His hands are grubby and his clothes have holes in them, but Garak never actually turns him away.

    He's even got money this time! He approaches the counter, emptying his pocket. A small, small amount of money comes out, along with a candy wrapper.

    "Do I have enough? I want carnations. Ah... dianthus caryophyllus!"
    testflight: (003)

    [personal profile] testflight 2020-11-22 09:32 am (UTC)(link)
    you haven't bent me over anything in a while, which was a large part of your appeal

    [ teasing, mostly. ]

    i need to have a closer look at lance, then

    agreed on amos and marcos

    and i have my own list
    [ it changes every day, every hour, depending on mood, really ] but can't i be interested in your take on it?
    testflight: (007)

    [personal profile] testflight 2020-11-22 09:36 am (UTC)(link)
    Hi yourself.

    [ she passes one glass to him and he sets the arm not attached to the hand now holding a glass onto the back of the loveseat, an invitation for her to snuggle in if she'd like to. he's on the prowl, certainly, but he'll always and gladly make time for her. ]

    You know, I can't quite decide.

    [ there are many handsome gents in the room tonight, some of whom larry already knows biblically and some he doesn't and he hasn't honed in on anyone just yet. ]

    Any recommendations?

    [ if she wants to talk about this instead of her father's death, he's all too happy to provide. ]
    myfavoritemurder: (my bloodlust is carrying me through)

    [personal profile] myfavoritemurder 2020-11-22 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
    "The Quarry," she says impulsively, having no idea whether this answer makes sense, and finding that she doesn't particularly care. She still isn't quite sure what the Quarry is, only that it's a big event and that it's coming up soon. "They wanted something fancy to wear in celebration of the Quarry's starting. I'll have to hurry to finish them in time."
    myfavoritemurder: (should I kill this guard?)

    [personal profile] myfavoritemurder 2020-11-22 03:47 pm (UTC)(link)
    About the Quarry?

    [That has to be what he's talking about; the news is everywhere.]

    I saw.

    [After a beat, she takes a stab and adds:]

    I'm sorry.

    [That isn't something that Callisto really knows how to say genuinely anymore; it can come out sounding mocking and sarcastic, or it can come out sounding strangely flat. It sounds flat here.]
    scythias: <b>DNT</b> (220)

    andy ( the old guard ) cardinal

    [personal profile] scythias 2020-11-22 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
    ▶ 01 SOAK UP THE GLORY
    ( sometimes, she gets bored. she thinks herself untouchable and impenetrable but sometimes, that's boring. sometimes, she wants someone to challenge her so she can decimate them and have a good laugh.

    but, very few people like to challenge someone like herself so she gets bored. and that means she leaves her comfortable surroundings and comes to spend time around those below and beneath her.

    she figures that she should keep up on the goings on, listen to the gossip and get a handle on what's occurring before she makes her moves.

    most people find her easy to talk to because she rarely talks back. they babble on and on, telling her all about themselves, dropping their guard and letting her in on secrets they shouldn't have told.

    it's easy but boring.

    today, she finds herself wandering down. she finds herself strolling through the various halls where the rooks and magpies live, peering into open doors and chatting idly with those that catch her attention.

    eventually, she finds herself on the lower floor, among those that she rarely ever sees. she dislikes it but it's a good way to listen to conversations that she otherwise might not hear.

    besides, they do serve some interesting foods down here and she likes to indulge. )


    ▶ 02 WILDCARD
    ( feel free to throw something else at me if you've got it in mind. i'm down! )
    heliophilous: (105)

    marcos diaz ( the gifted ) shrike

    [personal profile] heliophilous 2020-11-22 04:05 pm (UTC)(link)
    ▶ 01 NO WAY TO LIVE
    ( there's a feeling in the air that says something's coming, something's going to happen. he can see it in the lines of those he passes, that tension that tells him that they're waiting for it too.

    the quarry's coming. you would think that they'd be used to it by now but no, people seem to grow more agitated and restless the closer it gets.

    it makes getting what he wants from them a little harder because they're so emotional. ridiculous really but if it's what he has to do.

    marcos likes to spend most of his time in the outer rings, moving through dark alleys and coming up on those unsuspecting fools who think they're alone. it's fun and he gets a thrill out of it. once he shakes them down and moves on his way, he enjoys the spoils of his day.

    he slips in and out of bars at random, always taking a seat at a booth with his back to a wall and always drinking without paying. it's probably pushing his luck but he doesn't care. e knows what he is, what kind of power he has and he's not going to let anyone tell him otherwise. )


    ▶ 02. WILDCARD
    ( feel free to throw something else at me, i'm good with whatever! )
    Edited 2020-11-22 16:05 (UTC)
    realists: (ml » um)

    [personal profile] realists 2020-11-22 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ she snuggles in automatically, drawing in the comfort of larry's familiar warmth and the smell of his cologne. all of the clothing she has stolen from him and sébastien is promptly returned when it no longer smells like its owner — there is no comfort in a men's shirt, only in a men's shirt that smells like home. ]

    Hmm.

    [ she takes her matchmaking very seriously, perusing the men milling around the party as if dolls on display. for every one she would suggest though, she finds some flaw that disqualifies them. the tiniest flaw — he chews with his mouth full, his hands are weirdly small, he never buttons up the top two buttons of his shirt and it's annoying. even the men larry has had dalliances with before jyn crosses off the list because she doesn't trust them.

    but! she's been trying to tamp down on the clingy, overprotective part of her that thinks no one is good enough for her dearest friend. no one is, but that doesn't bother larry so it shouldn't bother jyn. ]


    William's cute. Or Maine, big hands. [ a beat, she turns in her seat, eyes bright. ] Have you met that Shrike, Amos? His biceps are like the size of my head.

    [ a+ good working out. jyn hasn't met him personally but she is shallow. ]
    Edited 2020-11-22 16:09 (UTC)