EVENT #11.4 / ARRIVAL LOG #029

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: The Aerie as it ends in an anime-like fashion, New Tokyo, and New Amsterdam
WHEN: August 23, 2512 onward.
WHAT: Event ending, arrivals, and a lot of changes.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy, religious themes.

> EVENT #011.4 / ARRIVAL #029

As suddenly as they all vanished, the people who remained in the Aerie begin to return. These people have not died: instead, they seem to return peacefully after an extremely unusual experience. As the gods are freed, the Aerie begins to take on a different form, radically altered by this decision. The very fabric of reality unravels. It's not that the city continues to grow more and more dilapidated by the moment—instead, the Aerie ceases to exist, dragging everyone who remains within into a joint, out of body experience.

At once, everyone's memories return in full. As they float in what is an open space, they'll recall who they were once before, right alongside their alternate life in the Aerie. Even if they can't see them, they'll begin to feel the others there: not just that they exist, but their emotions: wonder, surprise, irritation, anger, fear, guilt. Somehow, they recognize that they're connected to the billions of living souls there alongside them.

What once seemed like a wide, open space comes to be recognized as a large, vast ocean. They float in the deepest depths of the ocean, and they begin to see sea life swirl around them. Whales. Sharks. The glint of a dying star? There are constellations in the distance, too far to reach. It's hard to say where they are, and impossible to communicate to ask, to try to reach one of the billions of other souls there. When they open their mouths to try, they only make an unintelligible sound. Have they, too, been transformed into those creatures? It seems, at least for a moment, like they're communicating via echolocation.

The constellations begin to burn brighter and brighter. As they touch the people there, they're able to see more clearly around them. There are hundreds upon thousands of animals, all with bright golden eyes. They push through the water quickly, and the gold in their eyes fully illuminates the space around them.

Once that illumination meets a critical mass, everyone begins to experience a different joint vision. From the very start, the experience itself is excruciating: they feel an object, vaguely comprehended, but perceived to be spear-like in nature, slicing into them, tearing them asunder. The misery results in a complete and total division of self: splintered and incomplete, scattered into trillions of tiny pieces.

An indefinite amount of time later, there is a stirring. Everyone feels frigid and cold. The chill is excruciating, but different from what it was before. And then, as if a physical feeling can become an emotion, that chill becomes anger. And then that rage starts searching, wandering—

Until it adapts and connects with the ocean around it. The gold in the eyes of the sharks and whales begins to dim. A feeling of grief and eventually peace washes over everyone who remains.

And then everyone begins to shift in their beds, awakening as if returning from a terrible nightmare. Of course, given that they recall all of it, it's likely not much of a nightmare. At least not in a literal sense. When they wake to check in on the world, they'll find it in much the same shape—with the changes being far less obvious at first.

> 30 SECONDS FROM TOKYO

At first, you'll hear the buzz of a motor, as well as smell the splash of ocean water not so far away. You'll find that you're on a boat, passing swiftly over the Pacific Ocean to come into contact with a large, man-made structure in the distance. While you're drugged, you find that you're unable to move much. An IV protrudes from your arm, keeping you sedate. When one of the guards on the boat turns to check on you, they'll find your eyes open. "Sit tight and don't move. We have to be welcomed inside." Even if you're naturally defiant, you find yourself forced to comply.

Eventually, the boat pulls onto a dock that extends from the city itself to welcome your arrival. The mechanisms are complicated and hidden. Unlike a drawbridge in our modern times, the dock extends swiftly and completely, welcoming the boat next to it. After the boat seems to anchor itself into place, the guards present begin to move each of the passengers one by one off the boat. You'll notice others like you: dressed in white, long-sleeved scrubs, with recently shaved heads, and a pair of white tennis shoes. Or most of them are.

There are two exceptions: Eames and Aeryn, who have their hair still, but are just as drugged and kept under. They went through a similar arrival process before the Aerie stole them away, and arrived back after the Aerie ended in a similar manner to Max. Their return to society is just less personalized due to the circumstances.

Eventually, you're taken through the city—a wonder in and of itself, as it's a complex system of elevators spanning both vertically and horizontally through the large, metallic structure—and eventually through the back door of a business.

"All right, listen up everyone. There are people coming to get you. We've got this place for the day, so sit tight." At this, everyone's forced to do as they're commanded. Even if you don't want to sit, you have no choice. "We'll direct the people to bring you water, but that's all. Ask them to show you the glow. And—from me to you?" The guard sounds … tired all of a sudden. Her voice is strained as she adds: "Try not to fuck more shit up."

At once, the guards start to filter out through the back door. As much as everyone left behind can't go anywhere, they sure can talk.

As this process begins, a message is sent to all of the Displaced in New Amsterdam via a private broadcasting channel, one that's meant to only reach a limited number of people. It seems Jimmy's found a way to hack it for his own use, but trying to trace this back to him will prove impossible:

Sorry everyone. Couldn't do an official drop off. I barely scrounged up the people I did to get them to town. They're sitting tight at a bakery called Sweet Omakase in New Tokyo. Just go in and tell the people up front that you're there to pick up a package.

Oh, I forgot to mention: I'll be reaching out to a few of you soon. So … yeah.

JH

As for that compliance drug?

◉ Though entirely capable of independent action and thought, new characters will find themselves completely, unquestioningly compliant to any verbal statement which could be taken as a command or request.

> NEW AMSTERDAM

Though the Displaced can make the choice to keep the newcomers in New Tokyo for longer than a few hours, it's generally not recommended. Morningstar in New Tokyo is in just as much disarray as the rest of the world, and El doesn't want to disrupt their recovery in these trying times. As such, it'll be necessary to take them on a secure route back to the New Tokyo gate, bring them to New Amsterdam, and start to get them ready for their new lives. Of course, they may see a little bit of New Tokyo along the way, but not much given the urgency. (The link is provided for brevity purposes—please see the "New Tokyo" section for a summary of the city itself!)

The abbreviated trip between New Tokyo and New Amsterdam will bring the newcomers back to a city that's been through … a lot. That means it's probably a good time to have a quick catch up, right?

> LAST TIME ON NAMSTERDAM!
Although a year isn't very long for even a human being, the Displaced have managed to make their mark in this unusual world. Having first been released out into the world in mid-June 2511, they started touching the world around them. Whether it was fighting a giant monster or curing people from the sickness caused by inhaling smoke from that giant monster's parts (as well as any tiny little monsters it brought with it) or taking on the UNA when they tried to wipe out an entire chapter of a rebel organization, the mysterious Blue-glowing people were there.

After over a year of interventions left and right, the Displaced finally came forward as a united group—one that's uniquely tied to a business they opened. No one knows they're from another world. They don't even know what the Displaced's powers are, though they've certainly seen them do fantastical things. One thing became apparent: while the Displaced were spotted in other cities around the globe, their influence has been most felt in New Amsterdam. And even if the world's governing body doesn't like it, the people of New Amsterdam have claimed the Displaced as their own.

Most recently, the entire world found itself dragged into another reality called the Aerie. The Displaced had gone through this before on a smaller scale, but this brought everyone present on the planet Earth to this other world. The Aerie was a miracle world: in order to prevent the death of humanity as everyone knew it, a group of heroes chosen by a handful of gods chained said gods and harnessed their power to create a safe haven for all of humanity. As a result of their actions, these people created a major class disparity in order to maintain the secrets of how they created the Aerie. Since billions of people were saved in the process, the Aerie ended up having an overpopulation problem. The answer? A battle royale for anyone who's committed a crime, held monthly.

Well, as these things go, about two hundred years into this horrible experiment, the Aerie started experiencing some challenges. Rebel groups and bombs and more! Eventually the gods were set free, and with it, the Aerie vanished into nothing.

Though the Aerie (and its smaller-scale predecessor, Zerzura) was undoubtedly brought into being by divine intervention, it doesn't help that the Displaced claimed that their powers seemed to be caused by interacting with gods. Troubling much? So, some of the world is divided, with New Amsterdam being the only pro-Displaced left after the Aerie. Of course, it's a touch more complicated than that.

And it doesn't all fall in the laps of the Displaced. After all, they didn't choose to have this happen to them.

An important thing to note is that New Amsterdam is a very, very green city. We don't mean recycling. As if powered by weird god magic, plants grow a-plenty in the city, leaving numerous trees and thousands upon thousands of credits in plumbing issues. Animals came into the city thanks to the absence of humans to start settling in. It's a beautiful city, one that seems as if it's actively fighting against being reclaimed by nature.

With the worldwide trauma, current singing events are currently on hiatus. This likely won't be permanent, but it's not as if anyone is looking to become a pop star at this exact moment.

But that's where New Amsterdam is currently, anyway.

> SUMMER PROBLEMS
Ah, water rationing. That's right: one of the tried and true traditions in New Amsterdam summers is water rationing. During the hot summer months, the city puts out water rationing warnings, and the city also answers the intense and extreme heat by making it so that businesses are open throughout the evening, with everyone sleeping during the daytime. However, the Aerie shot a lot of that preparation in the foot, so the city won't be able to reverse the clock.

Expect a lot of hot, miserable, and extremely humid days ahead. Thanks to the nearly tropical nature of the city at this point, humidity is a natural side effect of it all. The temperatures will be reaching from around 105 F to 115 F during the daytime. The evenings cool off, but certainly not by much, as they dip to only around 90 F to 95 F when the sun goes down.

Oh, and water rationing is most definitely in effect.

> RED WINGS
In February 2512, the bar known as Red Wings first opened. Positioned adjacent to the New Amsterdam stadium, where a wide variety of sporting events occur year round, it's the only business in New Amsterdam that's currently run entirely by the Displaced. However, a few other businesses are set to open in the near and distant future, all tailored to cater to the city that most of the Displaced call home.

On the inside, Red Wings is very, very red. There is a neon sign that's been recently repaired of the Great Lakes state (Michigan). In terms of being a watering hole, the bartenders are all Displaced and all very sympathetic to any newcomers headed their way. Need some free food or a chance to play pool to clear your head? Red Wings is the place to do that. There are tables throughout the bar. There used to be booths, but most of them got shredded during a recent monster attack and … well, tables are easier to replace.

It's likely that all of the newcomers will be brought to Red Wings first for a full meal before being taken to the safehouse across town.

And while there are blank projection screens around the bar showing news broadcasts of what just went down, none of the newcomers will be able to see any of them.

> MURAL
Throughout the past year, multiple murals have gone up around New Amsterdam by a Banksy-like figure. This figure is known to the people of New Amsterdam as Legion, and they tend to commemorate both the Displaced and their ties to the gods. In the Aerie, it was revealed that Legion was a wealthy woman by the name of Nirvana. Upon returning from the Aerie, another new mural goes up in New Amsterdam.

Legion's new mural explodes in color in the large corporate buildings that connect in New Amsterdam's financial district. It depicts the whole story of the Aerie from beginning to end: the conception, the Quarries, the attacks on both the Quarry and the Volary, and then the return. The imagery is woven together like a full story, each picture moving seamlessly into the next. Below are the colors of the gods, painted in vibrant colors that can be seen for miles.

There's specific imagery woven in as well, including the birds that represent the different groups of people, the eclipse and different phases of the moon to signify the timing.

It seems to say never forget.

> HELPING OUT
All around the world, returning members of Morningstar, PRESERVE, and even the cultists who once followed the leader, Ball (though the cultists are only working in New Amsterdam), all spur into action to try to help. Everyone may be traumatized, but they also likely prescribe to the notion of wanting to keep busy. Recalling the Aerie won't be pleasant, and the world needs help. New Amsterdam already has a head start thanks to the resource acquisition and work by a small group of Displaced, but now everyone is back to work.

The work in question? Feed everyone, first and foremost. Countless people are without fresh food. Working in conjunction with both the Red Wings employees and the cultists, PRESERVE will be putting up food banks all around the city. Marcos Diaz's food bank is likely to be fully stocked as a result of this, should he want to get that running again.

Other work that needs to be done involves plumbing, as the plants seem to have very much taken on a life of their own. They're absorbing most of the available water in the city, and have even made the water level decrease in the river (just a bit, though). Water rationing is even more important right now, but it may prove to be a futile effort if the plants aren't held back. Time to get moving. Anyone who wants to be an impromptu apprentice to a plumber is likely going to be welcomed onto the job. They need all hands on deck.

Finally, there are just the people who need help. Roaming bands of former UNA soldiers caused problems even before the mass return. Now they're meeting up and moving as if they're a gang of their own to return order to the land. However, these people are truly traumatized, and it's as if they're calling upon an old order that they can't quite recognize. The problem is that they're extremely dangerous. Though their weapons are mostly makeshift ones, they can fight with them. Along with these roaming bands, there are the catatonic and the confused people, all who could use some assistance to get back on track.

Sadly, the hospitals are not ready to be staffed by typical personnel. If anyone wants to take the lead on this and commandeer those medical centers, they can feel free to! Again, all help is appreciated, even if it might involve some slightly illegal choices.

> SPIRITUAL RECLAMATION
One thing that was significant in Meadowlark's world before the Aerie was a complete lack of religious or spiritual devotion, at least on a major scale. Smaller sects like the tiny cult in New Amsterdam were exceptions that ultimately proved the rule. After all, they didn't even have any written doctrine about their belief systems.

Things begin to change. Some of those changes are obvious, while others are less so—at first.

The first sign of this is in various preachers who take up spots on street corners to preach about the end of the world. With a muddled and confused ideology, these people build little podiums for themselves to speak about the end times: the Aerie was proof that humanity is only buying itself time before an inevitable end—and eventually, the gods will punish them for what they did. While the initial preachers will not have a clear messaging system, this will change in the coming weeks. In fact, it'll seem as if they're all deriving their ideology from the same place—even while located in different megacities.

Quietly, tiny religious communities begin to spring up. With real estate already in shambles before the Aerie, much of the construction has come to a halt in order for people to begin to psychologically heal. As a result, various warehouses throughout the megacities begin to be converted into spiritual centers. At first, these locales will be innocuous in nature, but in time, there will be a clear set of imagery connected to them. Some of that imagery will link back to the Aerie (with a lot of birds, as well as ties to either the Cardinals or the gods), or to the sacred geometry imagery that's been connected to the Displaced for some time.

These spiritual centers may simply be people squatting illegally, but it's not as if any of the various local police departments have the resources to stomp them out. It seems that the UN also views this religious devotion as harmless, at least compared to the other problems that could arise.

> NATURE'S RECLAMATION
Plants and a handful of animals have been at it for a while, but the world is definitely in the process of experiencing a second coming of … fauna? Some are springing up unexpectedly outside of walls, while others are inside of the walls themselves in many megacities. Did you know that pigeons were an uncommon sight in 2512? Well, were is an appropriate word for it. They're no longer uncommon. And what about that river in New Amsterdam? Never one to be a place for fishing, it's now filled to the brim with freshwater fish.

Want to go fishing? New Amsterdam will eventually require a license for it, but it's still early days. There aren't any fishing poles around to purchase, but someone can probably fashion one themselves if they have the know-how.

There will also be more wild insects. Pest control was a thing of the past for this world, but with all these new creatures showing up all over, that's going to be a concern once again. Unless, of course, it's prevented.

> SAFEHOUSE

Not long after their arrival, the new Displaced will be brought across the city to an abandoned hover-bike garage in a neighborhood that's clearly seen better days.

Located under said hover-bike garage, access to the safehouse is a hatch in the floor beside a rusted set of metal shelves that used to hold tools and supplies. The immediate area is similarly abandoned: full of rundown and dilapidated warehouses and forgotten businesses, where numerous people squat in hopes of having some stability because they can't afford a place themselves. The inside of this safehouse looks better than the outside, as it was beginning to be transformed into a training center by Ian Fowler. Once everyone is brought into the safehouse down below, they'll find no one waiting for them. Though Gaby, a Morningstar agent, is typically around, she's absent at this time. Any newbies will need to be filled in by their fellow Displaced, though they can also contact El through zeir inbox, if needed.

The safehouse is a large space with multiple rooms for storage, with the largest of the rooms filled with rows of basic cots set up to sleep a large number of people. Basic, but outfitted with everything necessary for daily life. A few doors lead to back rooms for storage, medical care, and a large communal bathroom, and past the long rows of cots there is a communal kitchen, fully stocked, and an eating area. Privacy is mostly nonexistent in the safehouse, with any past efforts that were made to change that destroyed by numerous attacks along the way.

◉ New characters will be asked to pick their beds, and be provided with a change of (second-hand, mismatched and somewhat threadbare) clothes and basic toiletries.

◉ There is a mini-bar set up in the kitchen. The quality of the alcohol inside is akin to what someone might get from the well at a bar, though it's running low because it hasn't been restocked since before the previous set of arrivals.

◉ While the kitchen has a lot of dried foods to cook, as well as canned and preserved vegetables, most of what's left in the fridge will need to be tossed. In addition, anyone looking for a jolt of caffeine from coffee or tea will find themselves sorely lacking. The only tea present is herbal in nature, and caffeine appears to be pretty much nonexistent in most of the beverages lying around.

◉ Along those same lines, newcomers will find that this is a world that is steeped in sustainable choices. Paper is a thing of the past. Ever used a bidet regularly? This world gives everyone a crash course in exactly what that feels like if they haven't done that before.

◉ Everyone will receive a modest stipend of credits from Morningstar to help them get by until they can find a job. This will be enough to cover their living expenses for about a month while they hang out in the safehouse, if they're careful with budgeting.

◉ The drugs making new characters compliant will remain in their systems for a few hours after their arrival at the safehouse before finally beginning to fade. They will be gone entirely after a night's rest. In the meantime, they may want to be careful of what others say to them.

◉ New characters will be given rudimentary access to the network upon arrival to the safehouse, but will not have their ID set up yet. They will be able to make posts and replies, but their messages will be anonymous—and they do not have inboxes yet.

◉ New characters also do not have access to the internet until their ID is setup. They only have limited access because they're present in the safehouse, but they can't surf the rest of the internet, check out Cooltalk, or watch the equivalent of Netflix until their ID is made.

◉ New characters cannot leave the safehouse at this time. The hatch is locked tight for them, making it impossible for them to get out for the next four days while they're locked inside. There won't be any immediately obvious ways to cut their way out through turning off the power, either. Time to sit tight.

◉ New characters will not be allowed to leave the safehouse until AUGUST 27, 2512 (JANUARY 23, 2020). These 4 days are for them to adjust, learn about the world they've arrived in from their fellows, and for El to speak with them and work on setting up their IDs.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Welcome to Meadowlark, newbies! You're now free to post to the network and log comms. To reiterate, your characters will have no IDs or inboxes, nor be allowed to roam free once they enter the safehouse. Meaning: they'll have to sit tight until August 27, 2512 ICly.

All characters will appear as @anonymous on the network. While sitting tight in the safehouse, it's expected that they'll have gotten a good idea of their new situation from their fellow characters, and will have discussed their background and job potentials with El in order for their false IDs to be set up.

If you have any questions or ideas about how you'd like to get your character involved in the world, please head over to the plot engagement post and drop us a comment!

For questions pertaining to this log (and because we accidentally forgot to drop a questions header here, our bad!), please refer to our questions thread on the OOC post.

The January CR meme for the month is here.

Please check out our Event #011 Wrap Up Post for a rundown of all of the changes brought about through the AU, as well as any world changes that will be apparent moving forward.

As we announced on the wrap up post, AC will remain halved until at least June 2021. That said, for the month of January, we're making things check-in only because of the state of the world.

Finally, we'll be back to our standard planned calendar and AC (halved, just to be clear) on February 1, 2021. Reserves will open on January 23, 2021.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

sam winchester ( supernatural )

[remorseful]

return ( casa de winchester | closed to Dean and Cas )

[An out-of-body experience where his soul feels as if it's wrenched from his body is nothing new for Sam Winchester. The exact nature of this go around is new. His brain is overstimulated as he tries to take in the vision, tries to take in what he experiences, tries to reach out to the familiarity of what might be around him, only to come up dry. It's surreal and screwed up and he doesn't know what to make of it.

And then: he's in a bed in his apartment. He jerks awake. He sits up slowly, looking around. And then he checks the notifications that come in. Mostly news things, bulletins that were put together by the colonies. Oh, and a message to Dean. He sends off a reply.

And then he waits, hoping that either Dean or Cas will come home. He's going to catch up in the mean time. He's going to have a beer. Sam's not really a "beer fresh out of bed" kind of guy on most days, but he has his exceptions. Today calls for that.

Sam's visibly reading in the living room on one of the side chairs when he hears the door slide open.]

why'd you have to go and make things so complicated? ( closed to Kyna )

[It's a day after he's back that he finally ventures out, at least to see people. Oh, he goes for a run in the evening, right after it's cooled off a few degrees. (Not enough, but a humid, sticky summer is to be expected in Kansas, so he's used to it, at least to some degree.) But to see people? To take in the city? To deal with things like this? Yeah, he needs a night of sleep that he actually got for himself first.

Finding Kyna is more or less a goal. A complication that needs to be cleared up. His head is swimming with details. One part of him wants to get to work. The other part is forced to realize he can't really do that, not yet. Not until he works things out with her.

He strides into Red Wings in the early afternoon, stopping to pull out a seat at the bar. He leans forward, elbows on the bar top, and he looks for Kyna. If she's not there, he'll wait. But, well. He already had one awkward post-Aerie conversation through the implant. He'll definitely pass on more.]

making my way downtown ( open to all )

[Then it's just a matter of getting down to work. His first objective isn't to throw himself into a pile of digital books to get researching, even if he'd like to. There are a lot of things just outside that need his attention. Sam hits the streets as a result, looking a little overdressed despite the heat. Boots, jeans, and a full button up shirt? Well, it's practical to him, okay? He probably looks a bit overheated, though.

He'll be seen at a few places:

1. preachers—It's been a while, but Sam definitely remembers being spied on by guys just like this. His lips twitch into a frown. Honestly, the nature of what they're saying is ... not surprising, considering what happened. But he wonders if it'll stay like this. If he spots someone near him who looks even semi-familiar (Red Wings is a watering hole of sorts to help with this, after all), he offers a nod and asks,] Think this is gonna be a trend? I wonder if we should worry about it.

[After all, this is several steps past artwork featuring them. But it's not entirely connected to them, either.

2. disoriented people—Otherwise, he can also be found trying to calm disoriented former soldiers. Sam doesn't have a weapon on hand, and if he did, he wouldn't be quick to use it. These people don't seem to know what they're doing, and he's going to use all his weight to help.]

Hey, just—[He puts both his hands up, both in an intention of surrender, and to calm the former soldier.] I'm not here to hurt you. Just—do you know what you're looking for? What you want? [Of course, his approach isn't working yet. With a dazed look, the former soldier lunges at him, waving a large pipe at Sam's head.

When he raises an arm to block it, he grunts, and his eyes start glowing gold, and he suddenly has the strength to push the soldier back. He puffs out a breath after he does, feeling adrenaline coursing through his veins.

It's both welcome and not. Not because it reminds him of when he took demon blood. When he felt this strong. His chest rises and falls with the feeling, and his mind stays alert.

3. plumbing?—Thing that Sam Winchester will never be: a plumber. Thing he's trying to be right now to help: an apprenticed plumber.

Or he would be, if he could only be allowed to help.]

Look, I know. I know what it was like in there. I'm—I'm sorry. [He huffs out a breath as the plumber explains that one of Sam's "theoretical engines" got his mother killed in the Aerie.]

That's why I'd like to help. To—to make up for it. [But he's probably not going to press his luck too much farther.]

wildcard

[Anything else? Hit me up at the CR meme. Sam is still very new, so I'm looking to dig into stuff!]

[evocation]

[Kyna has been telling herself and everyone that will listen that her relationship with Sam in the Aerie doesn't count. They were totally different people living completely different lives. How could it count? Besides, Sam designing death traps to climb the ladder seems so counter to what she knows of him here. It's like expecting that the older Jason will be friends with her just because the younger one was.

So, hypothetically, talking to him shouldn't be such a big deal when he comes back. She's certainly been thinking about him enough in the interim, worrying about what he's going through in the Aerie. Still, when she starts to realize that everyone left behind is returning, her first thought is that she should probably find him, and that she desperately doesn't want to. Pathetic or not, she's afraid to put her theory to the test.

He catches her at the end of her shift, and so it takes a while for him to see her, but then she's coming out from the back, apron tossed over one shoulder. She's scanning the bar instinctively. Not for Sam, necessarily, but just to see who's wandering in, who might be back that she doesn't know about. Then she spots him, and her footsteps falter. It's just for a moment, a stutter caused by sudden nerves and a rush of anticipation, but it's certainly noticeable before she forces herself to head over.]

Hi.

[Totally casual, right? She thinks somehow it didn't feel totally casual, that it actually sounded like some dumb teenager seeing her crush at the mall, but she wonders if he picked up on that. Were her tells in the Aerie the same as her tells here? God, probably.]

[remorseful]

[For as long as Sam's been alive, he's always had a few qualities that have made him easier to handle than Dean. He's less cantankerous and cranky, at least from day to day. He's not obnoxious and posturing. While he's had his own expectations to live up to, he's always had to deal with those expectations a different way. Dean shielded him from a lot, partly just through being Dean Winchester.

With that comes one thing: the tendency to deal with his problems. To talk about them candidly, even if he doesn't know when he's lying to himself. Because, yeah, that's a thing he does. Sometimes.

His throat catches when he sees her, remembering exactly how she died. How he made himself watch. How she got there because of him, the same way Jess did. (Memories of Jess came back to him later, but he's not surprised that Brady had a cameo in his screwed up alternate life. What a dick.)

Sam's the kind of guy who's very visibly looking for words when he hasn't spoken them yet. His eyes get a little glossy because he's also an emotional dude. Crap. Uh. Zachariah really did him some favors by giving him an incomplete story those AU go arounds, didn't he?]

Hi. [Deep as hell.] Are you headed out? That—uh—that might be best. [Wait.] I mean—if you'd like to talk. I was hoping we could talk.

[evocation]

[He reacts when he sees her. She's almost certain those are tears in his eyes, and she tenses up. Six months ago, she would have made some half-baked excuse, turned tail, and bailed. Her time here might have trained that instinct out of her, but the panic still surges up. It's tangled up with an odd sort of relief, that he's back and safe, and for a moment she has to fight the urge to hug him. In the Aerie she would have thrown her arms around him and kissed him, and the memory of doing that a million and one times is still stuck in her head. The dichotomy between that intimacy and this awkwardness is disorienting.

It takes her a second to force it all down, swallowing roughly, but then she nods.]

Um, yeah, I am. I mean, my shift's over, so—

[Kyna cuts herself off, wrinkling her nose. She's already overthinking everything she's saying. Obviously her shift's over, and who cares?

At least he's stumbling over his words too. The fact that their discomfort is shared is almost comforting. If he just waltzed up to her like it was no big deal, she'd feel even more stupid.]

Uh, where do you want to go?

[remorseful]

[Ah, right. Making a decision. Trying to move forward as if this is a completely standard conversation. Sam's the type of person who can repress a lot, but he also feels openly, too. There's a strong cross there, a parallel of selves. He never had anything like the Aerie before, not to such an extensive degree.

But then, no one else has been dragged into his crap like that in a long time. The closest he got was to being the foretold killer of Rowena, and that kinda worked out in her favor. She's digging the Queen of Hell lifestyle, anyway.]

Somewhere, uh—[Private? Private would be best. But would that be more awkward? He swallows, visibly trying to figure it out.] Somewhere outdoors? If it's not too hot. I mean, it's pretty bad out there, but—well, it's up to you.

[evocation]

Um... Yeah. Sure.

[It's a mess out there, but she thinks if they had this conversation in her apartment or something, she'd have a panic attack. So instead, she gestures for him to follow, leads him to a little spot a block or two away. It's a "park", sort of, or more accurately, a tiny unused bit of land that's been taken over by plants. Someone's stuck a bench there in the shade.]

This is okay, right?

wincasa

[righteously]

( Dean's been dodging the apartment as much as possible and he hasn't been subtle about it. It's mainly Cas, obviously, what with Sam not having come back for the first week or two, but he's lowkey not all that against dodging Sam a little now, too. Knowing his brother's safe is always priority number one, but priority number two is "find any possible way to dodge uncomfortable conversations" and/or non-conversations that strongly hint at emotions. No thank you.

It's kind of accidental that he walks in while Sam is out and about in the living room, and there's an obvious hesitation in him those first few wary steps.

But he clocks the beer, and he clocks Sam's weary posture, and some of his own reservations slip. Easy to tuck himself away when he can focus on somebody else's distress. His first stop is a b-line to the fridge to grab himself a beer, and he cracks the top off on his ambling way across the room.

Mmm, the delightful unspoken understanding about not saying a single word re: morning drinking, or drinking in general usually. Love it. )

Anything new on Tik Tok?

( Like he really cares what the social media consensus is about this whole crapfest. )

[remorseful]

[Sometimes, Sam can't tell when Dean's avoiding a conversation. Sometimes avoiding that conversation is the status quo of their lives. They go on a hunt, they stay in the car, and they avoid anything that might cause them problems. Easy enough. That's the way things went back home. Sometimes it's easy to just forget, as a result, that something might be there, hanging over their heads. Sometimes.

But then something usually happens to break that. Sam recalls that there's something Dean's dodging. Because that's just what Dean does. And then he pushes about it, or realizes (or decides, because it's Sam) that it's a lost cause and then he goes after it from a different angle. Or Dean breaks and tells him.

It's not surprising that circumstances would change the form of that here. They're not on the road. There isn't a common goal that they share, not overall. They live together, sure, but the unspoken rules both do and don't apply as a result.

Meaning, well. Dean's avoiding him. Dean knows that he skipped some significant crap in those texts because it wasn't the time or the place. Hell, Sam should've given him a full push there so they could speed up this process. If there is a process. If they ever get to the end of it.

Knowing Dean, that's definitely a question that's gonna hang in the air.]

Apparently, they got inspired by the Shrikes and they're starting up something similar here. Kinda reminds me of signing up the right people to sell their souls so you can have a worthwhile demon army. [Which, well. Things happen.] Not great. We'll probably wanna keep our heads down for a while. [Sam in particular knows he's made a bad show of things now that he's come back. That definitely sucks.

Either way, he's halfway answering Dean's question in earnest because—because it's better. It's a part of the routine. What they need to do. He can see if there's an opening without pointing out that Dean's been avoiding him. Because pointing out that Dean's coping mechanisms are as obvious as ever has rarely gone well for him or anyone else.]

[righteously]

( It would be so much easier if they could just go on a friggin' hunt. If they could drag ass to the car and set a short term objective with a clear end result that they either pass or fail at — and only ever pass, because they're hunters, they put down the monster, that's a win. There's distraction and movement and not being cooped up in the same place just... stewing.

He is so freaking tired of stewing.

Also, he needs to shoot something. Like, bad.

So you know what? The social media update is actually kind of reassuring. Thank you, little brother. It slips a little more comfort into his posture, and he wanders over to half-sit on the arm of the couch rather than the cushion. )

Great, so we get to throw QAnon into the mix on top of everything else. That's awesome.

( It's not awesome. His sarcasm isn't even remotely subtle. )

[remorseful]

Worse, actually. [Because this is a creepy surveillance state of a world means that, of course, this government would want to have an extra task force dedicated to screwing them over. Sam's reminded of the leviathans, at least a little. The guys on the Sam and Dean beat were a pain in the ass. But this is different. It's not like borax is going to help them in a gun and gun.] It's government mandated. Um, officially. [Because back home, it's unofficial.] And it looks like we're the target.

[Which, again, not a thing they're strangers to. They know how to lay low. They've died both legally and illegally a bunch of times.]

It might not be long until we're the monsters. I'm not sure if we're gonna be dealing with crazy mobs or this world's version of the British Men of Letters trying to wipe out a problem—[They really do have a point in their stupidly long and yet not that long lives to parallel everything.] Either way, it's not good.

[It's a problem. But it's one that'll probably lead to stewing. But they're talking. They could definitely not be talking, and guess what? That'd be worse.]

[righteously]

( Government mandated? Sorry if he looks at you like you've got three heads, Sam, it's just -- seriously? He's got about fifty opinions on that, and on about who's really the monster considering which groups are trying to save lives and which groups are taking them, but none of that'll actually be news to Sam. He's got plenty of other crap to rant about.

He scrubs a hand over his face, shrugs with it, then drops it with frustrated enthusiasm onto his thigh with a sharp snapping sound. )

That's good. That's... Yep. Yeah, that sounds about right.

( What did he say to Cas like three days before the aerie? Something about not making plans because the next uproot our lives event was bound to spring up? Glad he didn't rent that bouncy castle or the flock of strippers. )

So we're still sitting around with our dicks in our hands over JPG, we gotta figure out how in the hell to de-god a bunch of angry lizard monster howler monkey whatevers so they stop eating people who don't glow, we have a whole globe of freaked-out civilians who don't know how to handle an alternate reality vacation, and we have to keep a group with more communications issues than a mime at a Kid Rock concert from being hunted down like white rhinos. Anything else I'm missing?

preachers

[angerberg]

Let's hope not.

[ the very thought makes her shudder. but it does give her an idea, all that ... energy. the blind faith. there could be better ways to channel it. ]

You'd think if they want to be saved, they'd at least turn their prayers in the right direction.

[ yennefer is clearly taking the 'being part of a god' thing very well. ]

[remorseful]

They might not know what that is just yet. [If these people haven't experienced faith all theri life, it'll be a new sensation to them all. Sam knows what it's like to lose faith—to pray desperately for god and his angels to help, only to be seen as a monster when they finally arrive. He knows what it's like to meet someone omniscient and realize he was no one special in the first place.

What's it like to gain that? To start from scratch and have it be a very real reality? He's seen people explain things away as faith. Ghosts as angels, so—what will happen here?]

But it sounds like you might. [It's a leading addition, though not quite punctuated by the uptick of voice implying that it's a question.]

[angerberg]

Don't you? [ she regards him, skeptical. yennefer is the type of person so interested in power that she doesn't quite believe that there's anyone disinterested in it. ] We're touched by the gods. It's not a theory anymore; it's fact.

[remorseful]

[There's a pause there. Sam's jaw moves, and he inhales a couple times, trying to gather his bearings. He's been chosen, or forced into a role, or whatever in his life. It never changed who he was. His mistakes were his own, even if Lucifer did a damn good job trying to show that those mistakes screwed everyone else over.

But see, Sam knew already. There was that.]

I'm aware.

[His tone is a little cooler than it is normally.]

Doesn't mean we're the ones anyone should be looking to. God, or gods—trust me, that isn't something you wanna mess with.

[angerberg]

There's a story in the Continent, where I come from. About a girl with a wish.

[ she side-steps sam's disdain, sliding instead into this as if telling her own life as a fable might make it less sensitive to her, might make it carry more weight. or, better, might persuade him better through some emotional trick of the light. an illusion. ]

In the story, the girl was cursed. Magic stole her voice. [ that's common in these things, and there's nothing heartwarming and fable-like about a young woman who sacrifices her uterus. she invents. it's what she's good at. ] Without it, she's nothing. She was a bard, you see, and without her voice, her family won't eat, or won't want her. She'll lose them.

So she goes all over the Continent, crossing miles and years, looking for a way to regain it. She joins a dancing contest to impress a king and wins all of his gold, but she cannot buy her voice back. She learns to hunt monsters, very rare monsters, so that she can piece together a remedy, but the remedy doesn't work. Finally, she learns of a djinn. A god of the air, you might say, who grants wishes to anyone who binds them.

[ the musical, fairytale quality of her expression and her voice flatten into something deadened and miserable, made that way by age. yennefer shakes her head. ]

It's not a happy story. The girl couldn't make a wish — she had no voice. [ she looks sam in the eye. ] We have the djinn bound. We are already dealing with the gods. At the very least, we ought to get our voices out of it.

2. disoriented

[notathreat]

Ah, Jesus.

[It's not the first of the fights she's seen, but it's the first time she's seen someone's eyes glow gold. It chills her, enough for her to put on a burst of speed.

Instinct tells her not to get involved, that getting in the middle of a dogfight only results in being bitten, but that glow's way too familiar.

She has a battered baseball bat in hand, wood, but she doesn't raise it. Instead she fists her hand in the upper arm of Sam's plaid shirt, gripping and trying to pull him back, break his concentration on the soldier, who has stumbled and fallen.]

Easy, dude. Easy.

[Sorry, Sam. You look like the aggressor, here.]

[remorseful]

[It's been a long, long time since he's felt this—or something like it. That part of his life wasn't a pleasant one. The addiction. The feeling of power. Knowing that he needed more to help out, to stop what was coming, only to realize he'd been tricked. Sam hasn't felt that way for so long, and the memories come surging back.

It doesn't help that his brain registers how this looks. He's not a small guy, and that soldier, while not doing bad for himself, is definitely not ready for what came his way. It's not like any of the soldiers are armed or—well, even really soldiers anymore. They're just screwed up, and reasonably so. He's kinda reminded of some guys who got possessed and had to find their way back into society afterward. Not everyone's dealt with that well.

And then the adrenaline begins to drain away. It's the first activation, after all. He feels his pulse stop throbbing in his veins. He pants heavily again, throat suddenly raw. He blinks rapidly, like he's trying to keep his eyes open.]

Crap. [Not a very good word.] I'm sorry. Let me—let's check on him. [The implied "us" because he's tossed a dude back and he's still, you know, visibly the aggressor. He definitely got it.]

[notathreat]

[Ellie's eyes are hard but steady, and she keeps her grip on his sleeve until the gold's fully faded from Sam's eyes. Then she takes a breath, nodding and relaxing, laying her palm there instead. It's half to calm him, like she would a spooked animal, half to make sure she has a grip on him if it tries to take him again. She's better-equipped to handle that shit than the man on the ground. (Or so she thinks.)]

S'okay. Breathe a second.

[Hand still in place, she risks a glance back over her shoulder, where the man's moving. She doesn't see any blood. She lets her hand fall from Sam's shoulder, deliberately steps on the pipe, staying out of immediate reach of them both as she leans in to check on the fallen man.]

Y'okay, bud? Anything hurting?

[remorseful]

[The problem with the soldiers, especially the straggler without a formation to try to emulate, is that they're not doing all right. The man looks dazed as he sits up. He's in peak condition, sure, but there is a glossiness to his eyes that doesn't seem right. Whatever was done to him was compounded by his time in the Aerie, making him look a bit like a drone that hasn't received directions.

For a moment, it reminds Sam of someone who's recently been exorcised. But from what he's read, that happened to these people a while ago.

Discharged soldiers, soldiers without direction, veterans traumatized by the experience ... no matter the era or the world, there are guys with this kind of look to them.

The guy shakes his head, almost like he can't quite bring himself to form words. He looks across the way at Sam, his previous "target." His brow furrows.]

I think we might wanna get him off the streets, [Sam offers. He's seen someone like this before, again, because of the whole exorcism thing. It's too similar.] See if we can get him somewhere that can, well. Help.

[notathreat]

[It takes Ellie a few seconds to recognize that look of shock and confusion, the glassy-eyed stare of someone who's not all there. Plenty of soldiers went like that, back in Boston. She'd see them being carried back in by their friends.

People who'd seen some shit.]

Shit.

[Ellie says it under her breath, a wealth of old grief and knowledge behind the word, and nods to Sam.]

We can take him to the hospital. We've got a few people headed there. Find someplace quiet where you can chill for a bit until you feel better, okay man?

[She keeps her foot on the pipe, and slides it away, keeping her movements slow and nonthreatening. Helps that she herself doesn't look like much.]

preachers.

[kinkprofessor]

It's possible. People lost oft tend to find ways to ground themselves in something larger than they are.

[ While it could be taken as the 'gods' that have been revealed to exist, well- Quintalian wouldn't mind should they worship him either. ]

Does it bother you?

[remorseful]

Yeah, I guess it does. [That's an earnest answer, at least in its delivery. His forehead furrows a bit, wrinkles suddenly very ... expressive in how worried he is. After an experience like that, people are going to be seeking answers.

The ones they get might not be for the best.]

Not all of this is just going to be preaching, you know? After something like that, someone's gonna want to feel—I don't know. In control? Powerful? And who could blame them? [Except for what it means for anyone else. There is that.]

[kinkprofessor]

[ No, they might not. ]

Oh, of course. Not to mention those who will hold us on loftier, yet more precarious, pedestals than before. It's becoming a very delicate affair.

[ What happens when your 'gods' suddenly fall sort of your idealizations? He's not sure. But Sam's right that there's definitely reason to worry. ]

I also wouldn't be surprised if it isn't long before someone takes advantage of it.

[ Not that he has any ideas, of course. Just testing for a reaction here, really, for absolutely no. reason. at. all. :) ]

[remorseful]

Yeah—yeah, there is that. [It's potentially the most worrisome part of all of this. What happens when someone decides to capitalize on it? What if that Johann guy takes his shot? Sam doesn't like the looks of it, not in the least.

Sam takes a better look at Quin, observing him.]

It seems like you might have a responsibility there. To, uh, shut it all down.

[Whether he will or won't is another thing altogether. What if Sam had played the Boy King part that was demanded of him? What if he didn't need to be tricked? These days, it's hard to say how that'd go down. Not that he made the right choice in the long term there.

Either way, Quin didn't just have a job and a social media presence. He was one of them. And that's gonna mean something.]