EVENT #011.3 / ARRIVAL #028

[larkers]

WHO: Newcomers + a new NPC, plus people arriving back from the AU.
WHERE: The moon!!!! To start.
WHEN: As the AU is ongoing. Early August 2512, two weeks after the AU swept people away at the start.
WHAT: Arrivals, explanations, and more.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Mentions of drug use.

> EVENT #011.3 / ARRIVAL LOG #028

When you wake, you'll be disoriented. Even wakefulness is a challenge. You slip in and out. First, you find yourself drugged, looking out through clear walls of a laboratory, deep into the darkest part of the ocean. Then, when you wake up later, there's a logo, as well as words on the wall: PROJECT MEADOWLARK. The logo is a bird: yellow and gray with a black V-shaped crest on its chest. If you know birds, you'll know this bird as the meadowlark. Out you go again.

In comes a man swearing, muttering to himself. "Really not meant to do this alone. Fuck me." Alarm crosses his features when he sees your eyes open. "No, not you. I'm not—let me just up your dose." He steps closer, hitting a button. After a few beeps, you're out again.

When you finally wake, you'll find yourself in a pristine room, one lined with beds. The walls are painted a forest green. In the distance, you'll hear the chirping of birds. The air around you is cool, sterile. You'll notice two things: first, that your head has recently been shaved, all bits of hair cut down to nothing. The second thing is that you have a surgical scar on the back of your head. This, too, is a recent addition. The neural implant inside of you doesn't connect to the internet yet, but it's safe to assume that it will sooner or later.

(The sole exception to these things is Jason Todd: his head is still full of hair, but he's knocked out like the rest of you, as well as dressed in a hospital gown.)

As you begin to stir from where you're sitting, you'll be able to come to set your feet on the floor. Like the air, it's chilled, as if it's artificial in some way. If you've been in space with artificially applied gravity, you'll recognize it here. That's the only thing keeping you grounded and properly settled.

The bed you're on has drawers, and within it are several sets of clothing, all in your size. Whoever set you up here took care to make sure you were comfortable.

Once you're dressed—assuming that you do get dressed, you could always just walk around with your ass out—you can head out and explore where you are. It seems you have open access to it.

And what is it, exactly? A futuristic bachelor's pad, at least from the look of it. There are numerous projection screens throughout this place, this home, though you won't be able to see what's on them. (Jason Todd excepted: he'll see that there are various colony-led news reports about the missing people on Earth, all stolen away for unknown reasons.) In nearly every room, there are birds that fly freely and chirp happily. Some are settled on makeshift trees that sprout from the walls with long vines hanging from them. Others settle on the water of artificial indoor ponds. Either way, whoever owns this joint definitely has to have a means of keeping up with all the bird crap, because there is none anywhere.

At the heart of this unusual, forest-like abode is a pathway that leads to a wide open space. Here, too, is another artificial pond, as well as a number of branches sprouting from the wall. Near what looks like an open window looking out at a vast and barren crater-filled surface is a tall and slender man with a hint of facial hair. Upon your approach, he'll turn and offer a tired smile. "Ah, I see the drugs have worn off. Good. Would you like to take a seat? We have a lot to cover, and I'm not terribly used to the process." A beat. "Oh, sorry. I'm Jimmy. Would you believe that I'm why you're here? … Here, well. I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?"

To continue this conversation, head over here.

For now, you'll know that you're stuck on what is very literally the moon. After all, going down to Earth could be a risky venture at this time.

> EXPLORING THE MOON / MOON CULTURE

After the conversation with Jimmy completes, the next day will be all about setting up the newcomers with their new IDs, as well as filling them in on what's going on. Everyone will know about the Earth being left empty, about the sudden shift in atmosphere as a result, as well as the difficult connotations about what's happening. Once everyone has identification, they're given access to come and go from Jimmy's place as they please. By then, they'll have the option of having a room of their own, as there seems to be a countless number of rooms in this odd moon mansion. If anything, it looks like Jimmy planned for guests—but those guests never came for whatever reason. Or perhaps they haven't been there for a while?

Once anyone leaves Jimmy's home, they'll be able to step out and explore the rest of the moon: which is truly a sight to behold. Satellite views don't do the Lunar colony any justice. UNC1 is the only fully livable space colony in this world, and it shows. Set up with artificial atmosphere and gravity, there are numerous machines outside that work around the clock to terraform the moon to make it livable for a future population.

On the inside of the colony, however, the moon is gorgeous—after all, it's largely set up and constructed to appeal to the wealthiest individuals in this world. There are numerous oversized homes like Jimmy's throughout, all connected through an intricate system of tunnels that quickly transport people via platforms from one area to another. There are numerous shopping centers, as well as parks with giant canopies of trees lending a sense of nature in an unlikely place. Ever visited an upper class mall and known that you weren't the clientele that they were trying to appeal to? That is definitely the aura that the moon gives off.

So, what is there to do on the moon?

> SPACE WALKS
Why would someone ever agree to live on the moon if they couldn't go out onto the surface? While the moon is still about 50 years out from having a breathable, livable surface, there is some charm over being able to walk on its surface. Space walks and tours go on all day and every day, allowing people access to various parts of the moon. These tours are controlled. Right now, the walks are fifty-percent off because of the lack of tourists from Earth. After all, if there's no one left down there, there's no one to visit. This enterprise has gotta get its credits from somewhere.

> THE CLUBBING SCENE
For the people who managed to get property on the moon, work is a bygone of a forgotten era. Everyone here is wealthy enough that they don't need to think about anything but play and more play. VR gaming centers are a big and loved commodity, but more than that is the clubbing scene.

Under-surface clubs run 24/7. Everything in these clubs is set up to help someone get away from monotony. There are sex-workers on site at all times, but with the same conditions and protections afforded to them on the planet below. In addition, alcohol is only the best of the best—priced to match the high-end tastes of everyone on the moon. The workers at these locales are paid very well to put up with a drunk group, but they're expected to also take all forms of abuse. Then again, a job here can set someone up for the next couple years, even if they just make it for six months.

> SHOPPING CENTERS
Just because it's the moon doesn't mean you're free from a capitalist hellscape. If anything, without a bustling economy built upon the backs of a visible working class, these shopping centers are necessary to give people things to do. As expected of goods that are imported from the Earth below, everything is decidedly costly. As a result, very little is imported that is cheaply made. At the same time, that means everything within these shopping centers is expensive. Need a nice pair of pants? It's going to cost you four times as much as it would down below.

But don't worry. Jimmy? Jimmy's given everyone permission to just put it all on his tab. If you need a new change of clothes, or want to set yourself up while you're stuck on the moon, Jimmy's got your back.

> ANTI-GRAVITY CHAMBERS
Gotten the idea that the moon is for hedonists who don't want to act like there's a real world elsewhere? Helping to feed into that notion are anti-gravity chambers throughout the moon colony to help someone enjoy themselves somewhere without gravity. In these chambers, you can go from gravity to zero gravity and figure out what you prefer the most. These chambers offer complete privacy, letting someone do whatever they might want without being … weighed down.

One thing that's not widely advertised is a unique, hallucinogenic drug that's recommended for the anti-gravity experience. Ominously named "SyFon," this is a psychotropic drug with all of the typical effects of drugs like that. Combined with the anti-gravity experience, it can really mess someone up. In good and bad ways, depending on how they react to it all. SyFon is, of course, illegal. But that doesn't mean that someone can't try it, right?

> CRIMINAL ENTERPRISES
Where does a drug like SyFon come from? Well, there is a burgeoning criminal enterprise on the moon. Rumor has it that the Petrov and Riverside mobs are vying for the credits of the rich, and have worked to set up centers on a variety of colony moons to help develop drugs, weapons, and other goods. How well this enterprise is working is up for debate, especially since SyFon is the only successful thing coming out of it. Needless to say, this enterprise is a work in progress.

> THE WORKING CLASS
Who's manning this laidback lifestyle on the moon? As the first of the colonies, the moon was once primarily populated by people whose labor was used and whose efforts were largely taken advantage of in favor of setting up a new home for humanity. Several decades have passed since then, and now UNC1 is a tourist destination for everyone on the Earth. So, what does that mean for Lunar businesses? They need to be well-prepared to handle a wealthy clientele, as well as appeal to the rich folks who decided they wanted to live the rest of their lives on the moon.

These days, getting a job on the moon is a difficult task. You need references, as well as an assurance that you'll be able to manage the atmosphere up there. A doctor needs to sign off on whether you can live up there (and it's important to note that while this clearance should exist for the other colonies, the UN sure as hell isn't enforcing this kind of test). Many people who end up in retail and clubbing jobs start off in terraforming factories, and then look for openings so that they can move horizontally within the Lunar ecosystem.

> CATCH UP
If you aren't interested in the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous: Lunar Edition, you can focus on using your internet connection to catch up. Yes, the world below is empty. Yes, there was a monster attack a few months ago. Yes, memes are still a thing. Many of you will have a whole lot of history, or even an entire world's setup to catch up on, and future Google, whatever it may be called, is still there for you. Jimmy, of course, will be willing to fill you in on anything else.

> AN OTHERWORLDLY EXPERIENCE

Before too long, people begin to appear on the surface of the Earth once more. Bit by bit, people begin to return from the Aerie, forced to contend with two different sets of memories. While everyone will return as if they're waking from a dream, they'll know that they likely didn't just fall asleep. Whatever they left behind will be a world they knew full of people they loved. They accepted the veracity of that world, believing it to be real. Believing it to be the only one they knew.

And who are these people? Within the Aerie, they are the recently deceased.

Once people begin to appear on the Earth and access networks, both El and Cassius will know that they need to reach someone. With few choices available to them, Cassius will reach out to Jimmy, having noticed his little trip down to Earth to pick up his new batch of incoming folk. After all, he needed to get them ready. Cassius will fill Jimmy in on the returns, as well as ask him to send his new "friends" down to learn whatever they can.

> FOR THE RETURNING
If you're returning from the Aerie at this time, you died. Some deaths aren't remembered or experienced, not entirely, so it's possible that your death this time slipped by without notice. (Basically, we're not forcing someone to have their character experience the trauma of death if they'd rather not deal with it.) Either way, upon returning, you'll find yourself waking within your bed. Was that where you were before you left? Unlikely. But it's where you are upon your return. Even the people who weren't Displaced will return to the place they last considered home, waking up as if they're returning from a very bad dream.

Everyone who returns will still have their full memories of their time in the Aerie. If someone had a new power, however, it'll be replaced with the power they had before. However … well, things may change here, depending on how things go on the other side.

If you're returning, you may notice some changes. If you died, you may notice a scar from what killed you. If you had a tattoo in that world, it may still remain. Any and all changes are up to someone's subconscious identification of themselves.

While the majority of the Displaced will awaken in New Amsterdam, there are still countless people who can and will return. And unlike the Displaced, they aren't as accustomed to wacky antics like, oh, a new set of memories and the psychological ramifications that come with that. Maybe they could use some help?

> FOR THE NEWCOMERS (AND THE ONE LONE RETURN)
Upon receiving contact from Cassius, Jimmy will explain that there are people returning down below, and that Cassius has requested some help. If anyone wishes to speak to Cassius directly, they can. Of course, Cassius is a space exploration AI who's more than willing to help them navigate their time in this world, as well as the short space travel needed from the Lunar colony back to the Earth itself. There won't be a lot of explanation for how Jimmy and Cassius know each other, or even if they do—but someone can feel free to ask.

First off: want some sassy AI time? Cassius is here for all your needs. He'll even buff up your past resume if you'd like.

Secondly: ready to go Earthside? Jimmy will offer everyone his private transport back to Earth. (Yes, this dude is that rich.) This transport only goes between the Lunar colony and a remote base off the coast of New Tokyo, but there will be a boat ready to bring everyone to New Tokyo proper. From there, all of the Displaced can travel all over the world.

As for any other quick facts?

◉ Wait, how can the Displaced travel? There are gates in all 104 megacities on Earth. These gates essentially give people fast travel. After hitting New Tokyo and accessing its Gate, all someone has to do is think of their next location, and they'll land there.

◉ So, what are the conditions on Earth? Barren. There are no people, no hover cars, nothing. Animals have begun to creep over the walls in all of the cities. After all, without the cars startling them, as well as the countless people crammed within the megacities themselves, they can begin to reclaim the world itself, bit by bit.

◉ New Amsterdam in particular looks even more like a forest. It's as if whatever happened during the AU has accelerated the growth in New Amsterdam itself. Apartments will be filled with vines. There will also be a lot of animals making their home in the city. For the unaware, New Amsterdam has been growing a lot of plant life since an unusual circumstance where all of the Displaced were pulled into another pocket world and then returned. Since then, plant life in New Amsterdam has grown at an accelerated rate, forcing the city to work around the clock to keep the city from being fully reclaimed by nature. Now, it looks like all of those efforts were for naught.

◉ Time has continued to seemingly flow normally. However, not everyone is back from the Aerie yet. It seems as if there may be more time for weirdness ahead.

> FINAL NOTES OOC

As a note, if you did not reply to us about starting in or outside of the AU, your character will be starting in this log.

With this log and its companion log, we're ending the first phase of Meadowlark's lifespan that primarily focused on the investigation into the world's lore. We'll be starting our second phase: characters choosing what to do next. We'll be detailing this more in our aftermath log/post, which will be due on JANUARY 16 2021. This aftermath log will double as an arrival log for whoever apps during our January application round.

Both logs for this phase of the event—11.2 and 11.3—are companion logs geared toward clearing up very large pieces of the Meadowlark mystery. While the AU acts as a reimagining of the game's metaplot, our NPC in the "real world" log will be divulging information. We've decided to go forward with making this clear because our playerbase has worked toward these mysteries for the last two years, and we'd like to help change the direction of the game from one based around a mystery of arrival and instead focus on what to do next. Of course, there will still be other mysteries to solve, as well as any true intentions, and figuring that out will depend on character choices and actions moving forward.

To make one thing clear, there won't be any radical changes to Meadowlark as a setting, nor is it anywhere near what might be called "end game." Instead, we're emphasizing a turn toward player-driven actions and plots because a lot of the mysteries related to the overall lore came to a head just prior to the AU starting. Think of this as having all of the lore pieces needed in order to begin to understand some of the remaining mysteries so that characters can decide what to do next.

All that said, we've also decided to use these logs to facilitate some future character plots, as well as help in releasing some characters from the AU! We also have one question that we'd like to pose for you.

(As a note: There is one link missing from below with regards to plot opportunities, as it's only relevant to characters in the AU.)

◉ Character deaths. We know that playing in an AU for two months can be exhausting, so if you'd like a get out of AU free card, this is the way out. If death may prove too traumatic, your character doesn't need to remember dying. All characters will wake up in the real world as if they're waking up from a dream. We'd just like a sign up so that other players can know who's vanishing from the AU via death! If you're having your character return in this log, please make sure to sign up at this link!

◉ What to do with the caged gods?. Unchaining the gods could have catastrophic effects on the Aerie, especially since they were the main key to sustaining it for all those years. Will they be unchained, or will they be allowed to flounder within the cages themselves? We're opening this choice up to the entirety of our playerbase. We will need all votes submitted by JANUARY 9, 2021 so that we can factor it into our aftermath.

◉ Any aftermath to consider? While this links back to the in-Aerie log, it'll cover all of our bases for the aftermath moving forward. If your character has contributed to helping the outside world since leaping from the AU, let us know!

◉ CRAU Relationships.: Finally, on our companion log, we have a unique NPC who's been through the jamjar ringer before. This is our NPC Jimmy Henries. If you'd like to sign up your character as someone that Jimmy knew before, head over there and fill out the form on the page!

If you have any other questions, please hit our questions thread(s) on the respective logs.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

QUESTIONS

[larkers]

If you have any questions pertaining to this log, feel free to ask them here!

[nonscriptum]

HELLO I WOULD LIKE TO REQUEST A CONVERSATION, NATE WANTS TO TALK TO JIMBO VERY BADLY, THANK YOU

[lifetothefullest]

I'm definitely also requesting the potential to talk to our new NPC friendo at some point, for obvious reasons~

[filloryfanatic]

Quentin will want to talk to Jimmy

[forcevisions]

do i understand correctly that characters who die in the AU will revive on the moon and get to participate in this log?

[lifetothefullest]

I return with other questions!

There's mention of the other people awakening from the Aerie and how (understandably) they may not be having the easiest time handling things; is this more of an individual thing among npcs, or are there any larger-scale consequences of the sudden collective trauma ike people acting out while the city's mostly abandoned, that sort of thing? Mostly I'm just looking for what I can get Lance involved in helping with, since that's sort of his thing and also it'll give him something to do that's actually productive while waiting for other people to return.

On a similar note, since he was a quarry participant, would some npcs recognize him?

Very importantly: What sort of animals are showing up in New Amsterdam? ARE ANY OF THEM CUTE

On an ooc logistics side of things, can I post to this log with a toplevel sort of thing for after waking up in New Amsterdam? That's the impression I got but I wanted to be sure.

jimmy henries (npc)

[mdwlrk]

[As Jimmy waits for a response, a bird comes to flutter toward his shoulder. He looks at it fondly, a warm smile crossing his lips. He doesn't disturb it, however. He just waits.

And for a brief second, there's some tension in the air. Some trepidation and uncertainty.

When he looks back to you, he looks nervous. Unsure.]

[ ooc: Jimmy is a major game NPC that is responsible for a lot. Feel free to pester him for answers, as he'll be willing to provide them. For people in the AU, there will be opportunities to pester Jimmy later.

For those returning from the AU, Jimmy won't be available unless specifically requested, so let us know in the questions thread if you'd like to work this out! ]

[reneger]

( the nervous expression is more than warranted. because instead of doing jason's usual thing and getting so pissed off he starts throwing fists--jason smiles. not a good smile. the kind of smile that spreads across his mouth but never reaches his eyes. that says i'm pissed where words fail to. )

You, huh. Care to explain?

( he's not sitting down, thank you. )

@CASSIUS

[btryl]

Hey listen.
Some of you are new around here, and some of you aren't. So, hi there, and hi again. Hi to everyone.
You probably have questions.
Just think of me as your new favorite guide. I'll do what I can to help.

@jason.todd

[reneger]

you're my least favorite guide, actually

jason todd ( dc : rebirth )

[reneger]

WAKE ME UP (WAKE ME UP INSIDE)

( it could be worse, is what he repeats to himself when he wakes up in a goddamn bed without anything to cover his ass. when he finds clothes nearby that fit, he reminds himself again that maybe, maybe whoever the hell is here is a creepy fucking stalker but at least he's able to cover himself up. not that he really cares, except some of the company he spots out of the corner of his eyes are people jason todd really doesn't want to have an ass-out gathering with.

eyes move over the walls, the news reports, everything else, idly tracking over new information and absorbing what he can about their current environment. but jason doesn't say a damn word, for once.

because even from someone brand spanking new, he knows he's a little obvious. the hair, the lack of fresh scars, how his eyes fall onto shit he's pretty damn sure is blank for everyone else and stop there, following lines of text as the scowl on his face deepens.

there's no obvious exit, no answer when he tries to ping those he knows on the ground. so. here he is, trapped in space. no biggie. )

AN ENDLESS WALLET

( jimmy has them set, and jason's just pissed enough at the asshole to take advantage of it. he can be found wandering through isles of the shopping malls, grabbing onto shit that obviously isn't for him but is nice enough to latch onto anyway. a pair of stupid green-framed glasses, a (fake?) leather jacket, a nice pair of heavy-duty boots, various other knick-nacks and nice, expensive packaged food to hoard for later.

anything that can be worn, he shoves onto himself. the rest of it stays in the bag he has thrown over his shoulder, big and bulking. when he spots a new arrival, jason grabs hold of the obnoxious-framed glasses from on top of his hair and leans just a little too much into their space, shoves the glasses on top of their head instead. )

Helps hide the bald spot.

( ha. )

LOOKING FOR TROUBLE (and if i cannot find it, i will create it)

( oor maybe you run into him a little later, when he's wearing his nice, (fake) leather jacket, when he's found clothes that fit his aesthetic and decided to wander around the moon a bit. except there's a distinct chirping coming from--somewhere. is it jason? it sounds like it's coming from him.

it follows him around regardless of where he wanders, and jason doesn't acknowledge it above whistling a soft tune along with it. maybe you're just imagining it? or maybe it's--coming from his jacket. it's definitely coming from his jacket. )

WILDCARD

( hit me up at sharkly if there's anything in specific you'd like! )

closed -- dickothy;

[reneger]

( this isn't the first, or even the second dick jason has found here. well. not here here as in specifically on a goddamn moon here but--on this side of the multiverse.

but this one, this one looks a lot more like the first than the second. bright blue eyes, stupid soft dark hair, built like he's ready to kick ass while he's got his stupid body bent up into a pretzel kind of dick grayson.

damian isn't here. dick is damn near impossible to shove a fist into when he's really expecting it, and jason is missing the tools needed to really catch him off guard. so he, you know. does a pretty normal, jason todd kind of thing and immediately steps into dick's face once he's walked out of range of the rest of the newcomers, where jason wouldn't feel super bad about wreaking havoc.

and raises a fist, to give dick a good, strong right hook straight into his stupid face. )

harley quinn | dceu | ota

[mahem]

it was all a dream

[ so the funny thing is, spending time in a max-security prison facility for metahumans and super-criminals really did prepare harley for the real world.

doesn't mean she ever enjoys waking up in one of these flimsy hospital gowns, but at least it's a feeling she's used to. less so is the shaved head, because she was not expecting to go all sinead here or demi moore in that one movie and she's frequently incapable of stopping herself from reaching up to touch it, rubbing her hand over the light blonde fuzz and occasionally tracing the surgical scar with a finger.

once she's dressed (in clothes that are her size, but definitely not her style, even if she's made an effort to do some last-minute tailoring by turning the shirt into a midriff-baring crop top and rolling the cuffs of the pants up to her knees), she decides to make a point to do some exploring, but first — if any of her fellow druggees are still waking up in the room with her, she's going to waltz over without any prompting, plopping herself down on their bed next to them and peering over curiously. ]

So. [ she crosses one leg over the other, leaning back on her hands. ] What's your theory so far? C'mon, you've gotta have one.

big mistake! big! huge!

[ all harley needs to hear is "put it all on my tab" and she's out the door. (well, she might try to smooch jimmy on the cheek in thanks first, but then she's out the door and heading to the mall.)

hey, at least she doesn't have to go to the trouble of stealing anything this time.

the price tags do give her a second of pause, but it's not like sticker shock has ever been a sticking point for her; she promptly marches up to someone who looks like they're wearing a uniform and politely requests a fitting room before loading their arms down with at least ten different outfits. trying on everything is half the fun, after all.

she'll be in the process of standing in front of the mirrors, admiring the shape of her pale frame in a dress that arguably very few people could pull off — unless you're harley. but if she catches the reflection of someone standing behind her, even if they're not glancing her way but just browsing the store selection, she pivots around on bare feet, waving until she snags their attention. ]

Be honest. [ she performs a slow spin, arms held out on either side. ] Whaddya think?

we like to party

[ turns out being on the moon is kind of awesome — and she's never been to the moon before, but there's a first time for everything!

of course harley quinn would be able to get an in on a place to get down with her bad self; maybe it's the face tattoos, but it doesn't take her long to earn that info from someone and she's sporting some of her new duds from her shopping trip earlier that same day by the time she heads out for one of the underground clubs in question.

she looks a little more like herself now, sporting a long coat with sequins over a similarly glitzy mini-dress, teetering around in impossibly tall high heels and seemingly without a single care in the world that she might not be able to pay for all of her own drinks. that's what cozying up to the right people is for.

maybe she recognizes another shaved head out on the fringes of the dance floor, or maybe she's less discerning about everything by the time she's well into partying the night away; there's no hesitation in her snagging their hand and leading them out with her to the center of the floor where she proceeds to dance with wild abandon within the crush of bodies, heedless of any greater worry. that, or if she catches someone watching her from a distance she might crook her finger at them, beckoning them in with a giddy grin while she twists and writhes between more than one other person.

why not fuckin' party on the moon? if she had to bet she'd guess her ex never did that. ]

wildcard

[ come at me for a different prompt or to reply to a different option from the log above! any questions, feel free to pm me or hmu on plurk. harley's current canon point is post-birds of prey. ]

it was all a dream

[unmoor]

[ it's not the first time he's waking up in a hospital gown either, but hook's visibly less comfortable with it, frowning at the surroundings like he was in a foul mood. the bright side is that he isn't handcuffed to the bed this time around, but that detail alone isn't enough to make up for the fact that he's been dragged to a strange place against his will. and his hair. his hair! it's gone along with his hook.

normally he'd greet harley with some attempt at charm, but the disorientation and the irritation keep him from paying her much attention. he briefly glances at her from the corner of his eye as he attempts to get dressed. it's a slow process with one hand, especially when you're waking up from drugged sleep. ]

A long night at the pub? [ it comes across as dismissive. he doesn't even have it in himself to humor her. sad. ]

jyn erso ✧ open

[realists]

the quiet earth ✧

[ zerzura only half prepared jyn for waking up alone in her bed back on earth — she hadn't been lost in an alternate life on zerzura, after all, and the memories of that place, of that life struggle to slot themselves into place alongside her actual life. at least, comes the bitter thought, she was orphaned in both worlds. the aerie didn't give her a mother only to steal her away, she'd been murdered there like she'd been murdered on lah'mu.

it takes her a day and innumerable cups of tea to venture out into the eerily quiet world. she knows, intellectually, that the volary was relatively exclusive, but that doesn't prepare her for the quiet. a city of 40 million, a world of billions, suddenly in single digit percentages is spooky in a way she can't quite put a finger on. hollow.

eventually though she makes it to red wings. it's been used as an impromptu base before, it makes sense to use it that way again. she sets her bag down and clambers up to sit on the bar, elbows on knees, chin in hands. she doesn't think clarke will mind her sitting on the bar, the extra height makes her feel safer, she can see the door open and close. ]

So that was fucked up.

closed ✧ for larry

[realists]

[ there's a brief moment in the aerie when the memories flood back, everything all at once, and the aerie melts away, replaced with the familiar heat that jyn still dreams about, the blinding light before there's nothing and jyn jerks awake in the familiar comfort of her own bed.

alone.

she tries not to panic, pressing the urge down with the stubborn determination of a woman who has spent a lifetime making her emotions tiny and manageable so she can be methodical about this. she texts cassian, she calls cassian, she tears apart their bedroom and closet and bathroom, he's not in the living area and oddly enough a calm settles over her. if he's not here, he's not dead.

but she knows someone who is and she barrels through the door to the master bedroom. she and larry aren't that close, but it feels like they are still, a warmth under her skin that speaks to years and years in each other's orbit, of tears and smiles and the curve of his waist where she fits perfectly tucked.

she crawls into bed with larry without asking, curling up in that exact spot where she fits and burying her face against his shoulder. ]

Morning.

richie tozier | it | ota

[rockshow]

cws: intoxication via drugs/alcohol.

terror of tozier (shopping center)

I could fit so much cocaine in this.

(Richie's trying on the world's most absurd poncho. He doesn't seem to be talking to you specifically, but he's talking plenty loud enough for any passer-by to maybe give him a second look. Especially when he keeps on going:)

I'm talking my body weight in coke. And I gotta lot of body weight. (Not that he had any. And not that he's done any in like, years, but the point still stands. He sways back and forth in the poncho before sighing and taking it off.)

Whatever. It looks stupid anyway. (Richie winds up buying the poncho anyway because he has a soft spot for stupid looking things.

He can later be seen in yet another absurd outfit and this one's to keep. He's fixated in a mirror, unbuttoning and rebuttoning it, frowning, twisting this way and that before he finally puts his hands on his hips and gives a very serious nod.)

Oh yeah. I could absolutely be on a porno set with this one. It's fucking perfect. (Unfortunately for you, he's caught your eye, and he gives a sweeping gesture to himself.)

Am I right or am I right? You can practically hear that bow-chicka-bow-woooowwww sound effect, right? I'm fucking buying it.

stand up guy (clubbing scene)

(With his new dumb outfit, he naturally was going to seek out the clubbing scene. He was probably getting a bit old for clubbing but nothing on God's green earth (what was the moon equivalent for that?? Oh shit, it didn't matter) would ever stop him from a good drink. And rumor had it that there was plenty to wet your lips with on the moon.

He's compartmentalizing a good chunk of his panic about what was going on in this place. He's on his ...something'th shot and the poor bastard reeked like booze and was starting to get that damp sweaty look going for him. He wasn't a fresh daisy anymore, hadn't been since he was...Okay, probably ever, but damn it, it was working on making the world a comfortable, pleasant blur. He was dipping between cheery and downright depressed and to fix that? He was going to slide up to the nearest person to start a conversation.)

Y'know, I betchya this is a cult thing. All this. With the shaved heads and the...(He gestures all around them. Yeah, Richie. Great conversation starter.) Or we've been colonized to be impregnated by a bunch of aliens. Oh, fuck.

(Oh no. He gives his new conversation partner a wide-eyed look of terror.)

Dude, I'd make such an awful parent. I can't raise a squid.

(Sorry, stranger. Good luck trying to even keep up with this dipshit's drunken rambling.)

aftermath (post-clubbing scene)

(It's not the first time Richie's passed out from drinking and it wouldn't be the last. He's in some undetermined place, snoring loudly, bent in an awkward position that was probably going to hurt whenever he sobered up. He had clearly not made it back to his room for the night but there was a poor attempt.

It's you, random stranger walking by, that wakes him up. He jolts upright, moving his thick frames around his face and just slurs out the first thing that comes to mind:)

I'm not late to class. You're late. Get off my dick.

(Where the hell was he. He was maybe also rolling still from that weird hallucination drug too and when he tries to focus on whoever you are, he just winds up gazing blankly for a solid minute before:)

Can you just like...not be upside down, dude? It's fucking with my orientation. (No, Richie, you're just high.)

wildcard

(Feel free to make up a prompt or pm me for any ideas. you can also add me on plurk @ clussy if you wanna plan anything.)

just like so much cocaine;

[wittingly]

( So, here's Ian going about his business, chilling, maxing, relaxing all cool and definitely not shooting any b-ball outside of any schools. Head full of the most fucked up shit that's ever happened to him, dealing with an existential crisis and a broken heart and whatever, and then cocaine pings through his brain. There are a few words that just yank you out of whatever reverie you're in and pull you back to the present. Things like "cocaine" or "penis" or "oh my god is that baby on fire?" and other such unusual vocalizations.

It's just a dude, wearing a poncho, talking about how much blow could fit in it.

As you do.

Whatever, it looks stupid anyway.

Well hold up stranger, because he's invested now. )

Hey -- man, I know it's none of my business...

( Mildly interjected from about four feet to the right by one Jesus-looking hipster holding a slurpee cup. )

But if you don't embrace that poncho I'm gonna spend the rest of my life regretting it for you. Don't let your dreams be dreams.

marcos diaz — the gifted

[heliophilous]

01 AN OTHERWORLDLY EXPERIENCE

( when he wakes up, it takes him a few seconds to realize what's happened. almost instinctively, he'd reached for caroline and when his hands had come back empty, realization had slipped back in like an insidious infection.

he was alone. she was gone, he was alone and the last thing he remembers is an explosion, pain, blood. and then he'd woken up.

there's a healed scar on his chest and marcos rubs his hands over it, remembering the way shrapnel had dug its way into him.

he can't deal with this right now. when he thinks he'll be steady on his feet, he gets to his feet and steps out of the cold, quiet penthouse. he needs to walk, to move and he eventually ends up at red wings. he stops there for awhile, leaning heavily against the bar and plying himself with drink after drink.

when he thinks he's good and drunk, he finally leaves, weaving his way down to the red light district. he has no goal in mind, he just wants to be away from his house. a few people recognize him, offer to take him in but he refuses and finds an empty spot against a wall, curving his back against it and watching people as they pass. )

02 WILDCARD

( if you'd like to do something else, feel free to throw something at me. find me at spoonishly for plotting/questions. )

Red Wings

[filloryfanatic]

( Quentin similarly wakes up, shocked, reaching out in a haze expecting someone in his bed. Whether it's Eliot or Midge is not something even he really knows. This is not the first time he's had a shitton of information-pushed into his brain, but it might be the most fucked up. He'd heard of this happening with Zerzura, but actually experiencing it ...fuck.

He looks around the apartment but he doesn't see Margo or Penny. Are they gone? Quentin's numb at this point, walking out into the streets and it's so quiet. It's all so quiet. Some people are back on Earth by now, but nothing compared to before. He goes straight for Red Wings, feeling so isolated, and spots Marcos from behind. )

Oh thank fucking everything.

( Quentin is glad to see anyone, but especially glad to see a friend. He rushes over to him. )

Dude, I'm going to hug you unless you punch me. I thought I was like last man on earth kind of shit.

Quentin Coldwater | The Magicians

[filloryfanatic]

[Wake up]

Quentin wakes up with a start, practically flinging himself out of bed. He looks to the side, expecting someone there. Eliot? Midge? Someone ... something? Where is he? Who is he? He shakes his head, his mind seeming to piece together a few seconds later and he rubs hands over his face. Well. He was curious about Zerzura this is what he fucking gets.

He can't find Penny and Margo which freaks him out so he runs into the streets. Is he alone again? It's like a horror movie out there, silent, only a few people he sees at a distance, so he stumbles toward Red Wings. He's not even dressed for work or anything. He's in sweat pants and a boring t-shirt and he forgot his shoes which is really not good when New Amsterdam is apparently a forest now?

Pale, he just sits for a little while on the floor. Because that seems like a good idea. Not even on a chair. He eventually gets a bottle of liquor, which is a much better idea, staring off into space.

[Keeping it together]

After that Quentin keeps showing up at Red Wings, waiting for more people to show up. Hopeful but also despondent the longer it goes. He keeps Red Wings going, a relief when others start coming back from the Volary though, so he's not alone. But he keeps telling himself everyone will be back. They have to be.

He will still be there eventually if and when any newcomers find their way back to New Amsterdam after their adventure on the moon and in New Tokyo. At least by then he's wearing real clothes again and not drunk, cleaning as much as he can and doing busywork.


[Wildcard]

[Ooc: hit me with anything you want!]

waking upj; handwaving that they've met at some point in person so could recognize each other idek

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance had very briefly stopped by Red Wings shortly after waking up in New Amsterdam, but it had been utterly deserted and he'd soon abandoned it to turn his attention somewhere it might be useful. But as more people return, including some Displaced, he ventures out to the bar once again.

So he finds Quentin sitting on the floor, not exactly looking so great, not that Lance blames him; he probably doesn't look much better, totally exhausted physically and mentally, dressed in a hoodie and jeans and his ridiculous light up sneakers, sunglasses sitting on the top of his now quite curly hair. The glasses are a poor attempt to avoid getting recognized by the non-Displaced people that have returned, after that had gotten old in approximately forty seconds, but he obviously doesn't need them indoors.]

Hey.

[He says it softly, so as to hopefully not startle Quentin before he kneels down on the floor across from him, well out of arm's reach but close enough to talk easily.]

When did you get back?

[He's trying to figure out if this is a reaction to trying to readjust, which is very understandable, or if something else might've happened.]

Ren Amamiya | Open

[variate]

WAKING UP & GETTING OUT THERE

[ instead of waking up slowly, Ren wakes up with a start. a breath heaves in his chest and he gasps before he realizes where he is. instead of feeling like a night's rest, he feels as if he's sleep too long, and the grogginess settles behind his eyes, leaving his head in a fog. shifting, his limbs feel stiff and heavy, as he moves to sit up, as if that'll somehow awaken them. everything is quiet and still, almost eerily so. as he tries to get his bearings together, he focuses on getting up and putting himself somewhat together: he changes his clothes, puts on his shoes, and then checks his apartment. he looks through the rooms for either Akechi or Tomoe, finally calling once for each of them, listening to the way that his voice sounds when he does.

when no one replies, he heads out of the apartment and down the hallway, finding it all as empty as it feels. the world outside is different, and a few squirrels scatter from in front of him as he steps out of the doorway and onto the street. tucking his hands into his pockets, he wanders what looks to be a forest.

anyone in distress that he comes by he tries to help. there are a few people that need to head to a clinic, and he walks them to the closest one. people are looking for their partners, and their children, others seem disoriented, and he seems to be trying to do his best to help them get where they need to go. there's not many people around, so it comes down to taking them to the right place. while Ren doesn't really like trusting the police, he's out of options otherwise. he'll flag down patrol cars to escort those who he can't help, himself.

help the boy help someone else? ]

WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS GO TO RED WINGS

[ the first place that he thinks to go is Red Wings. if other Displaced woke up, that's where they would go, right? it seems logical in his haze of awakening. after getting a change of clothes (steadily, carefully), he walks through the green covered New Amsterdam on what would normally be his short commute to Red Wings. it looks a lot different.

there are plants everywhere, even as the door slides open and he peeks inside the completely empty bar. there's a little hey? that comes through his lips as he glances around, taking note of the last state of the bar. it's the kitchen after that, and he puts himself to work: he find his curry roux (untouched and still good, thankfully), the rice and some salvageable root vegetables and gets to work. on goes the Red Wings apron, and he starts cooking with the bar still empty. (no Strange or Clarke or any of his coworkers. without Akechi needling him or Morgana's side commentary.) it's lonely, but familiar.

it feels like an eternity since he's done this. clanking happens as he gets everything ready: lifting the pot, getting the utensils, chopping what he's salvaged. as he stirs the pot of curry, the scent wafts through the bar. anyone who comes by (whether Displaced or not) will get fed. ]

WILDCARD

[ newbies welcome to find him. feel fee to hit me up with something else, also let me know if you want a closed starter! i'm over at hadal & on discord. ]

getting out there

[lifetothefullest]

[It had been incredibly quiet at first, so deserted and apocalyptic, that it had been a relief when people had started to return in greater numbers. But then the chaos of the situation had settled in, and relief had quickly turned to concern, and then to trying to figure out a way to help.

So that's what he's been keeping busy with, and if it weren't all so terrible he could be grateful for the distraction, but it is and so he can't. It just sucks all around, and it doesn't help that people keep recognizing him; if one more person he doesn't know says his name like they know him he's going to snap.

Maybe not really, but still.

Seeing another Displaced is still unusual, and so even though in normal circumstances he might not necessarily strike up conversation with Ren, he's glad enough to see him that when he catches sight of him during a moment of calm, he approaches.]

Hi, Ren.

[He says it quietly, loud enough to be heard but not enough to garner attention considering how deserted the streets still are in these patches of inactivity.]

Did you just get back?

[Or has he been here awhile?]

dick grayson | dc comics

[dickism]

arrival
[This isn't the weirdest thing that's ever happened to him, sure. Waking up drugged, kidnapped, with a fresh scar on the back of his head, stuck in a hospital gown... Obviously concerning. The strange thing is, he doesn't sense any malice from Jimmy, and he doesn't think the guy is lying, either. The birds feel a little on the nose, though. Especially when he spots a robin hopping from perch to perch.

But they're trapped, at least for today. Of course Dick checks the exits, gets told he needs an ID to leave, keeps checking anyway. And then there's... nothing else to do but wait.

He's always been terrible at that.

So, his attention shifts to the others trapped with him, trying to narrow down which are civilians and which aren't, who might know more than they're letting on, who might need help. His voice is light and calm, because why make anyone panic more?]

So, come here often?

[And while he is worried about his fellow kidnappees, there's always a part of him that's gathering information, too.]

new amsterdam - wandering

[The city is a mess. It's Gotham post-Earthquake writ large, just prettier. The plants are breathtaking, climbing up every available surface, and animals are everywhere. Dick even has to dodge a deer.

The human toll is the heartbreaking thing, and for all the strangeness of the rest of the situation, this is something familiar. Dick is used to working with some base of information. Even when he'd started from the ground floor in Bludhaven, it was at least still his world. He might not have known the big players or the intricacies, but he knew the basics. Here, he's utterly out of his depth.

He can still help, though. He can always still help.]

Guess we're going back to basics.

[He mutters it to himself and gets to work, tries to calm panicked children, tries to figure out who's in charge and how organized this whole thing is. Turns out, not very. Maybe someone should help out the new kid, too.]

red wings

[Dick spent his time on the moon researching, of course. Screw the clubs and shopping—he needs to know what the hell is going on. It doesn't take him long to find out that Red Wings seems to be headquarters for the Displaced, and so he heads down to see what he can see.

Slipping through the front door, he's hit immediately with the stench of rotting food. Yum.]

Anyone here?

arrival

[mahem]

[ early on, harley rules out her working theory that this is another pet project of amanda waller's, that ARGUS has pooled together enough resources to do the damn thing all over again. it's not like she's never had anything implanted in her head before, but usually they don't have to shave her head to put the freaking bomb in her neck, and they usually do it in a way that doesn't leave an ugly scar either.

so she definitely hasn't been kidnapped for suicide squad 2.0. but that begs an even bigger question of where the hell is, and also why. she's more than willing to roll with it by comparison to some people who look way more confused or unsettled, and there's no hesitation in her whatsoever as she approaches each fellow member of the newly-shaved club in turn.

well, at least one of them seems chill. ]

What, I seem like the type?

[ she looks like a type, between the pale skin and all the tattoos. ]

ronan lynch | the raven cycle

[somniphoria]

get your bearings.

[ some people are dog people, some people are cat people - and ronan? ronan is a bird person. once he's grasped (and decided he thoroughly hates) the situation, he sets out to explore the base. everything about him screams fuck right off.

except maybe that's not so effective when the birds seem to like him as much as he likes them landing on his shoulders. the idea that he might not like it is ruined by ronan scratching feathery ruffs and offering crumbs.

he stares out the window, his gaze locked on the earth. occasionally a hand comes up to touch at the corner of his eye and he pulls it back to inspect it - an uneasy look settling across his face. the nightwash hasn't come yet and he's far, far, far from the leyline.

his gaze returns to the moon. ]

red wings.

[ he's on one of the first flights off of there.

just because he hasn't dreamed doesn't mean he won't. simple as that. ronan can barely handle sleeping in a car without creating a catastrophe, how the hell is he going to manage in the vacuum of space?

there's a bar. a base of operations that this new group he belongs to - the 'displaced - operates out of. he really can't think of a better thing to do than to get absolutely fucking hammered, honestly. ]

Beer. [ he says to whoever is behind the counter, rubbing a hand across his shaved head and glancing around the space. ] Shit.

wake up. closed to adam.

[somniphoria]

wake up. closed to adam parrish.

[ one minute, he's comforting matthew. or trying to. uncertain how to handle this new (inevitable) change in their relationship, the layer that has been revealed that they are of dream and dreamer rather than brothers by blood.

next, he's living his worst nightmare. splayed out on a lab table in an unfamiliar location, an equally unfamiliar face forcing him back into a state of dreaming.

only he notes that when he is awake he moves instantly. he's awake and up, not awake and paralyzed while something in the world exists where it didn't before. awake and up, on his (rather clumsy) feet. trying to take in the sudden shift in surroundings, church to being a fucking labrat.

only it's not just him here. it takes a moment to recognize the boy in the next bed over, but when he does his heart lurches with fear. ]

Adam? [ shit. shit, fuck. there's a wild spike of fear and panic - what has he gotten them into this time? ] Shit, Adam, what the fuck did they do to you?

Lance | Open

[lifetothefullest]

[Red Wings]

[Technically, he isn't exactly a psychologist here.

Part of that's for the obvious reasons of his degrees meaning absolutely nothing in another dimension, but more it's been because he's been keeping his actual main profession something of a secret. There are many reasons for that, some selfish--it had caused him so many problems, some of them even dangerous, in Hadriel--and some not so selfish--he's not really in a place to be giving professional advice and it's not fair to anyone to think he is--but it's one of those decisions he's gone back and forth with himself over since arriving. Now, more than ever, he's struggling with it again.

So, for the moment, he's trying to just help as much as he can unofficially. He's out in the city most of the time, trying to calm citizens who are lost and confused and distressed, but occasionally stops back at Red Wings; Displaced tend to gather here when they don't know what to do or where to go, and so whenever someone looks like they're in shock or distressed or angry, he musters up the energy to try to talk to them.]

Hey, are you doing okay?


[Red Wings; back room]

[Lance likes to think he's been generally doing okay at keeping it together, focused on trying to do what he can to be helpful; it's something that keeps him out of his thoughts and allows him to help people all at once, which is the best way for him to manage things right now. The problem is that as soon as he stops then everything creeps in, and while he's typically an advocate for facing your issues and beginning to work through them, he absolutely can't do that the moment.

So he tries not to stop, and has tried since he first woke up in New Amsterdam, and it's been days now. He's not even sure how many days, not bothering to try to keep track because he doesn't really want to know, and a complete lack of any sort of normal schedule makes everything blend together. It doesn't help that he's twenty-nine--thirty-one?--and can't exactly pull the kinds of back to back all-nighter stunts he used to, so he just gets a few hours here and there when absolutely necessary rather than coinciding with any sort of normal time of day, and usually those hours aren't particularly restful anyway.

That's why he finds himself forced to take an impromptu moment, ducked into the back room of Red Wings so as to hopefully not catch any attention, leaning heavily on the sink and trying not to pass out or be sick, he's not sure which. Maybe both--that'd be just his luck at the moment--and he takes slow deep breaths, eyes closed and mostly oblivious to his surroundings, as much as he doesn't want to be. Focusing on more than one thing at a time is too difficult at the moment.]


[City streets]

[The more people who come back, the more chaotic the city gets; life as they all know it has been completely upended in a way that the monster attacks hadn't done. That had been an external threat, a disaster, not... What this had been.

Some people are handling it surprisingly well, like the medics and the NAPD, who seem to be doing their best to sort out the crisis even with their limited numbers. Others not so much, like the people who are taking out their confusion and anger on whatever nearby objects--or people--they find.

A few of those people seem a lot worse off than the others, almost blank in a way, and as incredibly concerned as Lance is about them he is absolutely not going near them. He can hear glass shattering down the street a few blocks over, where he'd last caught sight of and then avoided a pair of those individuals, and is trying to figure out who--if anyone--among emergency services that he should call when he catches sight of someone heading that direction.]

You probably shouldn't go that way.

Red Wings

[sparklequeen]

[ Waking back up in her own bed had been like jumping into a pool of ice water. Her apartment was threatening to overrun with vines tapping at the windows and the first order of business had been to do some clean-up. Adora and Catra were nowhere to be found, and neither of them were answering her calls. That done, she had tried to reach other Displaced--and found few, if any of those she was closer to answering her calls. So she had done the only other thing she could think of: head to Red Wings.

She's sitting there, deep in anxious thought when Lance approaches her. There's a jolt from her as she realizes he's talking to her. She looks up at him, her face looking a little pale. ]

I...

[ The first instinct is to say yes, she's fine. But is she? ]

I don't know.

killian jones/hook | ouat | ota

[unmoor]

the clubbing scene

[ it's been a while since his very informative talk with Jimmy and Jason. he's even taken his time to look up the network, but he quickly got tired of it. hook figures it's useful to have around in case he needs information on someone or on something, but he isn't going to waste his energy reading at random. currently he's more interested in what the moon has to offer since he has no intention on traveling down to the ground to help. he'd rather pretend that the problems down there didn't exist, so he can tell himself they're not going to be his problems one day. (they will be.)

it turns out that the clubs on the moon are nothing like the cozy/disgusting pubs he's used to, but they offer something to drink, so he isn't going to complain. there's also Jimmy's money, so.

it's still early, but he's already climbing out of the first under-surface club he picked at random. the man following him offers his assistance by the stairs leading up to the street and gives the pirate a shove, grunting something offensive and threatening. hook nearly slips and breaks his jaw on the stairs, but manages to pick himself up as he stumbles up the rest of the steps, turning around so he can return the insult. in doing so, he backs straight into someone. ] --Careful there, mate. Lend me a hand, will you? [ he blindly grabs at the person since he's lost his balance. ]

[kon]

[ it has been a while since he last stepped foot into a club just for the hell of it. the last few years haven't been very ideal for letting loose and enjoying himself, too many complications in his life quashing any real desire to do so. even visiting this area of the lunar colony isn't because he wants to party and have fun. he just has nothing better to do.

unsurprisingly, kon doesn't get too far in his exploration. he doesn't even make it into the club before trouble greets him in the form of a man colliding straight into him on the stairway.

instinctively, he catches hold of his arm, steadying him. ] Are you okay? [ his gaze darts between the two men, quickly assessing the situation. ] Is there a problem here? [ he would rather avoid a fight breaking out, so he is hoping against hope that the warning tone in his voice is enough to stop the other guy from causing a scene. ]

Hey, [ he glances down at the one he caught, lowering his voice. ] why don't we get out of here, yea?

new tokyo newbie arrival

[preseance]

touchdown tango; (the newbies!)

（ jay helped him pinpoint just where the new displaced were gonna come down, an' he tries to be there on time to meet them. he ain't really spoken with any of 'em yet but that adam fella, but anyone he sees at the dock will have a (gloved) hand held out an' a smile that's tryin' hard not to be half so grim as he feels. ）

Hey. Name's Gene, welcome to New Tokyo. I'm like you lot, I'll help get you settled as much as I can.

a helping hand; (newbies and oldbies!)

（ turns out, with a little help from nico an' jason he's gone on an' broken into a preserve dorm an' set things up for folk comin' back outta the aerie. anyone who opted to come with him from new amsterdam is welcome here!

you can catch him doin' one of a few things: tryin' to organize the locals, settin' up orderly queues an' the like to distribute food an' whatever else is needed that he's got on hand, or checkin' up on folks.

heatstroke's a worry in this weather with some of the infrastructure pertainin' to HVAC down, so he's makin' sure to pass out water (in biodegradable cups!) to anyone that looks to have a poor tolerance of it.

anyone who's been hard at work helpin' the locals will eventually find themselves havin' a hot meal pushed into their hands by gene, an' he'll try to steer them to sit down a spell on one of the cots. ）

How're you holdin' up?

ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

[righteously]

( He's been sweating his ass off all goddamn day, but you know what? It's kind of worth it — this is the kind of hands-on manual labor Dean needs to distract himself with, it's the least destructive of his coping mechanisms by far. By the time evening falls he's starving, he's got the subtle ache of a body well used, and his hair's still wet from the shower. He's posted up in one of the far corners of the communal eating area, kicked back in front of one of those citronella candles, nursing a beer.

( Not his first, if the small collection of bottles on the far corner of the table is anything to go by. )

When Gene comes by to shove food at him, Dean offers him a terse nod - pretty clearly not because he's upset or particularly uncomfortable, so much as... that's just his resting state anymore. Stressed to the point that his smile is more like a straight line with dimples. )

Can't complain.

( He reaches down to a cooler at his feet to tug out a bottle and offer it over, a bartering system as old as time. )

Future Days | Closed to Joel

[notathreat]

[Ellie doesn't know how this is going to go, or what she's going to do.

The way over is rough, and she gets quieter and quieter as they draw first through the gate, and then nearer to the dock. Her stomach is crawling with snakes, and she feels like every pump of blood is both too much and too little. It's not fear, exactly. It's not the reeling feeling of one of her attacks, either. But it makes the world fuzzy around the edges, has her feeling... tilted.

Speaking with Joel so far as been like speaking to a ghost, like writing to him in a journal. Something she could well be imagining. It didn't feel real, not like this does. She keeps opening the files in her implant, her eyes flickering quickly back and forth, unfocused as she goes over it and makes sure she hasn't misread.

As the boat pulls in, her heart, already racing, starts aching in her chest. She takes full, deep breaths, like Dina used to have her do. Holds them, slowly exhales. Her fingertips are shaking and cold. She's pale, but she's stepped away from the others, closed herself off.

Will he recognize her, like this? Thinner than he remembers, with shorter hair and so many new scars?]

[texas]

（ there are a lot of things joel's learned to reconcile. to live with. showing up on the moon wasn't hardly in his plan, but then — neither was being alive. neither was ellie being here. none of this.

he's still working it out, mostly. hasn't talked to the others much, which has been easier done than said — he supposes he doesn't lend himself well to an inviting aura anyhow, less-so with the shaved head.

(he'd done it once, a lifetime ago. some charity thing for sarah's school. she said he looked like a hell's angel — well, she'd said heck's angel then, but he knew what she meant. too much late night television, and damn those sons of anarchy anyhow.)

but he's done a score of things he would've thought impossible a month ago, all in the span of hours. riding on a shuttle back to earth is nearly the least of them.

back to earth. back to ellie.

she said she'd be there. he's never had cause to doubt her word, this girl who speaks her mind and knows her heart better than just about anyone has a right to in their ruined world.

and there she is, when he steps down onto the dock.

it's funny, maybe, but he doesn't see the scars. the short hair. maybe, maybe he notes the way it looks like she ain't been eating right, but mostly he just sees that skinny little fourteen year old again, and he steps towards her without thinking about it. it's as he draws closer that the image sharpens into focus. that he sees the truth of it. she's a little older than he remembers. a little harder. somethin' colder, maybe, about the eyes.

he stops short of her a few feet off and clears his throat. he should've tried talking to one of the others on the boat over, he'd have a better idea of whether or not his voice would falter now.

gruffly, ）

Hey.

for kyna.

[withmeinparadise]

[ Sam's been...not busy, exactly. He's been in his own apartment and up on a variety of roofs more than anywhere public. Not exactly avoiding the world, though, either--he's spent too much time away from it to want to wall himself up like some old-time anchorite.

He spends time at bars, if not Red Wings, and talks to the locals when he sees them. And in a moment of pure horniness and boredom, he ends up spending a few hours cutting vines away from abandoned doors in the red-light district. Call it a corporal work of mercy, emphasis on the corporal part. Not that it's something he can really try to claim for a reason for a discount later, but hell, busybody do-gooders probably aren't making their way over here, he might as well do it.

(He might still be annoyed about one busybody do-gooder in particular.)

Today, though, he's out doing something-or-other and carrying a big box of what-the-hell-is-that and maybe just not watching where he's going. Which is how he ends up walking right into someone--though he's pretty sure someone else just walked right into him. ]

[evocation]

[Kyna is just exhausted, in every way a person can be exhausted. Maybe she should reach out to Sam, but she doesn't know if she has the energy. Besides, why should she be the one to do all the work when Sam was the one being an asshole? Maybe it's not the most mature approach, but right now, she doesn't care.

Distracting herself from everything—the Aerie, Sam, dying—is easy enough right now. The city is such a mess that she can work herself into the ground if she wants to, although she tries not to be a hypocrite and gives herself a break once in a while.

Right now, she's not doing that. She's in the middle of texting someone as she walks down the street, heading back to Red Wings, eyes unfocused and head tilted down. She doesn't even check her momentum, which means that running into Sam feels a bit like hitting a brick wall.]

Ow, Jesus— Oh.

[Of course, when she looks up, it's Sam. Of course.]

amos burton | the expanse | ota

[baltimores]

> safehouse

[ His eyes snap open and he lays perfectly still, chest barely even moving as he breathes and stares up at the dark ceiling above him.

What the fuck, is all he can think.

That, and trying to parse through the past few... days? Years? The passage of time is incomprehensible. He'd just been on the Roci-- no, kidnapped-- no--

It's dark, but it's also quiet, he notices, no telltale sounds of any other human life around him. He sits up, slowly swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, and rubs at the back of his head, the short hair only just starting to grow back in, the still relatively fresh scar. He's alone in here, he's pretty sure.

Blinks, and recognizes that now, he actually can get out.

So he does. He's pretty sure he's never going to come back down here again.

Amos emerges from the hatch to find himself in what looks like an abandoned garage. Not the kind of garage he ever really worked in, technologies that somehow seem antiquated and brand new all at once, but still, a garage. It's significantly closer to home than being confined in a fucking basement, so.

He unceremoniously lets the hatch close behind him, ignores the sound it makes, and looks around the empty space.

Finds his breath hitching, for some reason, and leans back against a wall; slides down it, sitting on the floor and staring out at absolutely nothing.

Years-- Not, not years, but what felt like--

Everything. Everything Lydia had warned him against becoming. And without her around he'd done it anyway, has those memories, makes sense of every single action he committed, the way he felt, knows he retains the capacity for all of that, knows that despite anyone's best efforts that's still exactly who he is--

He leans back against the wall of the abandoned garage, knees up, elbows haphazardly resting on them, hands limp between his legs, staring out at nothing, turning a past that never actually happened in his mind over and over and over. ]


> red wings

[ At some point, the need to do something takes over.

Which would be great, if he had any clue of what the fuck he was supposed to do.

He pushes himself back up into a standing position, and with it, tries to push everything out of his head as well. Focus on the important stuff. Like the last place he was. Actually was.

Some bar. Right.

Sure, he could drink. Good a place as any.

He exits the garage and steps out into a world so fucking green that he's never seen before.

Amos has to take a minute, stare up and around him, marvel at the freshness of it all, the free oxygen, a biome humans are meant to live in that he hasn't experienced in decades, hasn't experienced ever on a level like this. Breathe in, breathe out, think for a second that it's a shame a friend of his would never be able to see this world.

Well. Hopefully he never sees it, at least. Hopefully nobody he knows from before all of this ever sees it.

He has a... vague notion, of the way to go. It was only a couple of days ago. (Right?) At least it's good to just walk. Move. Not think about things.

He ends up at the bar, eventually. He remembers being forced to step inside the first time. Nobody is forcing him now. He goes in, finds it... not totally quiet, but not as busy as it had been when he'd first arrived. He can see the virtual screens now, though. See a part of this world he hadn't been able to before. So that's probably a good thing, at least.

Tries to focus on that instead of the other bullshit. Makes his way up to the bar, takes a seat. ]

Yo. Got any good booze, gonna need it over here. [ He realizes he doesn't exactly have any money, but, whatever, he can figure that out later. ]

red wings.

[withmeinparadise]

[ All right, so he and the girl he likes had it out a little, and now it's safe to go back to Red Wings. So Sam goes back to Red Wings. And in a moment of pure deja vu, there's a voice coming up a stool or two away, a densely built wall of a man and-- ]

Jesus Christ.

[ Not the disgust from the Aerie, more like he just saw a ghost. Amos Burton is the name his memory supplies, but all those memories are based in the dreamworld fantasy they were trapped in up til recently. He's only the same guy inasmuch as Sam is--and, dressed in jeans and a v-neck tee, his hair a little rumpled, Sam's decidedly not quite the same guy--but what that means out here in the real world, he doesn't know. ]

Terrence Ephemera | Red vs. Blue | OTA

[requiemshark]

Red Wings

[ For lack of a better idea, Ephemera shows up for his shift at Red Wings. Stability feels like something to reach for in the midst of all this shit. Return to the old patterns, even if it's just for the moment. He wakes up craving the weight of his old armor and knowing he won't be able to find it. And he's running out of wall space to paint in his room.

He goes to work, in the meantime. Picks up extra shifts just for something to do. He can be found hanging around, keeping an eye on things. Or snagging a drink on his break. ]

Looks like you're still kicking.

[ He keeps an eye out for the other Displaced, watchful but somewhat distant. ]

Wildcard

[ Hit me up at mirrorfaded if you're in the mood for something else. ]

wildcard;

[braveoff]

[ Drake's promised Gene he'll head to New Tokyo to scout ahead for the new arrivals, so he's packing a bag of supplies when he hears the door to the apartment open. He tenses -- as far as he knows there's only one way out of the Aerie, so when he peers out of the kitchen he almost hopes it's someone breaking in...

...no such luck. ]

Hey.

[ Is there proper etiquette for this? Asking if someone died horribly in an alternate universe?

It's probably just not to ask, isn't it? ]

You okay?

Drake Holloway | OTA

[braveoff]

new tokyo;

[ Drake arrives in New Tokyo the night before the welcome wagon and newbies are scheduled to get there, so he can scout around and report back to Gene. He hacks his way through the overgrown foliage to clear a path to the PRESERVE dorms they're going to be breaking into the next day, but as requested doesn't break in himself. Instead he hunkers down in an empty alley with his supply hoard like he's camping, eats a protein bar, and calls it a night.

Though it's a peaceful night sleep doesn't come easy, nor is it particularly restful after the horrors of the Aerie, which affect him more deeply than any monster fight he's ever been in... but he's still up and at em the next day, ready to greet friends old and new alike.

He passes out clothes and food same as he would if they were at the Safehouse, and is ready to answer whatever questions the newbies have about how to live in this strange new world. He's out of the loop on moon antics but has the pulse of New Amsterdam for when the head back through the gate, and in the quieter moments he makes sure to check in with the oldbies that he knows have just returned to this world as well. Others are struggling, and it helps to be helpful.

Just don't ask him how he's doing. Please, don't. ]

[leaderboards]

[ carolina rarely has anything to do with new arrivals, but she likes gene and she likes having something productive to do, so here she is. she's good for helping to break into places with supplies and then making sure they get moved to where they're going to be the most useful, easier things to manage than actually trying to reassure anybody of anything. she's not great with people on a good day. on whatever sort of day she's having after the aerie, she doesn't really want to try.

she does want to talk to drake, though. eventually. when she first spots him, instead of thinking about the person she's come to call a friend, carolina thinks about the arena participant she'd had low hopes for, about the notes on his personality she'd passed along, even doubting that the designers would need to tailor any challenge to drake himself.

so she doesn't verbally greet him right away, just gives him an acknowledging nod, finds herself something else to do, and tries to get her self-loathing under control enough that she can try again later.

it's into the evening before carolina has a good chance, raising a hand in a gesture that isn't quite a wave but hopefully signals 'I'm coming to talk to you' well enough as she moves to join drake in whatever he's doing. ]

Drake. Hey.

[ it doesn't sound any more uncomfortable than carolina usually is when she's had to interact too much with the locals or new displaced, at least. ]