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

[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.]

[remorseful]

[Exorcisms. Or a dad who's been to war. But the thing about John Winchester is that he didn't wear his time in Vietnam as obviously as some veterans. Once his wife got killed, he dealt with the trauma by leaning into that life and dragging his sons along for the ride. It's how he managed, how he coped.

Sam doesn't know the whole picture when it comes to guys like this, but he has some of it.]

There's a hospital about ten minutes that way, [he says, nodding in the direction. That's ten minutes without trying to keep a guy sane, so it might take longer.] I can take point on getting us there.

[The idea being: he's in the lead, and they both know where he is. Bit by bit, he'd like to take care of that awful first impression. Not just to look good, but because it'll be easier to help if he does.]

You ready to head out? [His eyes pass between both of their faces.]

[notathreat]

[The man's still a little glassy-eyed, but he nods slowly, and Ellie nods back, obviously wary of them both, but still willing to help.]

Can you get up?

[The man hesitates, but then climbs gingerly to his feet. He's a little bruised, but thankfully doesn't seem all that worse for wear. Ellie steps back to give them both some space, then takes a step as if to follow Sam. The man warily falls into line behind them.]

Was headed there anyway. They need some extra hands pretty bad right now.

[remorseful]

[Add this to something he's glad he's never dealt with back home. The apocalypse happened and people got swept up in it, but it wasn't everyone. Everyone didn't have a near-universal apocalyptic experience caused by gods. It was only a small portion of the population. At least, in his neck of the woods. He saw what came of Apocalypse World. Nothing there was left untouched by how badly things went.

And he was lucky. Though he died there, he only had to experience it for a short while.

(And though he died there, death is just an every day thing for the Winchesters.)]

Yeah, I'm betting so. [A casts a glance toward the guy.] A lot of people aren't doing so hot since they got back. Maybe if we came in waves. I guess, uh, some people did. At first. [That's the gist he's gotten, anyway.] But the rest of us took our time.

[And thus—this. A different universal kind of problem. He barely feels right in his own skin, and he's been through this crap.]

[notathreat]

[Even if they've calmed the man down, Ellie doesn't like him following them. She's on guard, holding herself with loose readiness, the type of stance that she adopted so often in dank, dark places infested with stalkers, where she was most likely to be attacked from behind.]

Yeah, I came in one of the first waves.

[She lets that hang there, then glances sideways at Sam.]

... your eyes were glowing gold.

[remorseful]

[Sam wasn't here for the most recent monster attack, and he also wasn't a Kestrel, but—there's enough data for him to piece together what that could mean. Back home, it'd mean he's any number of things. Vampire, werewolf, shapeshifter if things work that way. There are hundreds of monsters and other creatures out there. He doubts he's any of them. But he does have the info from this world. Back in May, monsters came flooding out of every possible city hole with glowing gold eyes. There were dreams with those same glowing eyes. The works.

He frowns, clearly piecing this together. Ellie can probably count the thoughts in his head by the number of wrinkles in his forehead.]

I didn't feel like myself for a second there. [Well. His current self. The one that's ten years removed from a demon blood addiction.] Anything like this turn up recently? [Because as much as he'd talk about his feelings and how weird it felt, he'd like to know if this came in any earlier waves. Heck, he even glances back to the silent guy at their rear. Maybe he has something like that.

But from what Dean and Cas' work showed? Nothing like that has been ... temporary. Not without a cure. That has definitely not happened here. So, is he still infected? The noticeable uptick in awareness and strength has definitely died down.]

[notathreat]

The Kestrels inside the Aerie had powers, and they showed up like that. Glowing gold eyes.

[Ellie glances at him, to the side. She's not sure if he was a Kestrel or not. They weren't exactly forthcoming about who was a part of them. After a moment's hesitation, she steps closer, asking in a soft undertone.]

You a Displaced?

[remorseful]

Yeah, I saw some of that at work. In the arena and—later. After everything went to hell. [He had been watching the arena to see what would happen, watching to see if Kyna would make it through. And then later, working with some of the Kestrels with some of the real Sam Winchester starting to bleed back in, bit by bit. If someone had powers there, there was no point in hiding away from them.

So, he saw it.]

And—[Softer, after clearing his throat.] I'm one of those, too. But it's usually here—[Motion to his chest.]—instead of up there. Something's off. Right? [Questioning it as if she'd have the answer. His brow furrows. The last thing he wants is to ... lose control of himself, and that seems like a sign of that on its way.]

[notathreat]

[Ellie nods, her brow creasing, the edge of her mouth twisting.

Sam seems more worried about it than anything, which tells her something of his character. Combined with how he'd more obviously been trying to help the guy they're escorting, she can make a couple of educated guesses. He's newer, too.

She knows most of them by now.]

Yeah. Something's definitely off. Or maybe new. We should ask the others if this shit's shown up before.

[remorseful]

My brother put together a guide on this stuff. Golden eyes generally mean bad. But I don't feel off. At the end there, there were some gold things in the pictures we got. But I'm still trying to get a handle on it all.

[Trying to find a source of lore had been his first goal in getting here. He wanted answers to the heart of it all. He still wants those answers, but it's more in trying to figure out what he saw and experienced.]

Look, um—if I start acting erratically? Before we get there? Feel free to put me down. Not all the way, obviously. But I'll live with the risk of a concussion. [Sam's been hit over the head enough times for a big dramatic fall. So, yeah. He can handle it.]

[notathreat]

[Takes a second, but it clicks. Ellie raises her eyebrows, though, lets him talk it through, committing himself to the possibility. Yeah. Either he's a fantastic actor, or she has more than a measure of him.

She gives him a grim nod.]

It also said that touching people for a while cured that, but if nothing else works, I'll live with telling Dean I knocked the shit out of his brother.

[She flashes him a smile, a little reassuring, a little sharp. She's got him.]

I'm Ellie.

[remorseful]

Long as you're on his good side, he should take it okay.

[There are two ways Dean could take it. On the one end, there's him being super protective. On the other end, there's "oh, Sam can handle it, especially if he asked for it." It depends on which one he'd jump to, how distracted he is by other crap, or hell, how much he wants to be distracted from that other crap.]

I'm Sam. Glad to meet a friend of Dean's. I didn't really get my chance to—you know. Do that before. [Though they came in at the same time, Sam doesn't recall her. Part of that is because he was too focused on being okay. None of it was bothering him. Just take it in and act like he's fine. Plus, their whole situation had a lot less grouped corralling, which seems like it's more of the norm.]

[notathreat]

I'd say I'm safe there. Helps that I ran into Castiel early on and he vouched for me.

[Ellie shrugs, but gives him a sincere half-smile. She's obviously more relaxed with him now, though she hasn't quite moved into arm's reach. She keeps checking on the man they're escorting, who looks more dreamy and dazed than dangerous now.]

Yeah, a fuckton of things all happened at the same time. Even before the Aerie.

[It didn't help that she'd done everything she could not to be visible in the safehouse back then. Callisto's attack was still fresh on her mind.]

You the younger or older brother?

[remorseful]

Younger. Definitely younger. [Sam seems a bit surprised by the question, but that's because so many people they come across in their lives either already know or think they're two agents working on a case. Age isn't as much of a factor. It does help, though, that he's no longer a recently dropped out college student trying to make a play at that gig.

He considers that for a moment, and adds:] He—ah, he practically raised my on his own, you know. I wouldn't be here without him. [Here. In one piece. Alive. In some ways very literally on that last one. But he does mean it, and he wants to share it, too. Sam figures it's the kind of thing most of Dean's friends aren't quick to learn about him. Hunting, the whole lifestyle—it feels as if it's completely divorced from a lot of the situations among their group. It means that there are some things about Sam and Dean that won't translate over. Especially Dean, what with his gruffness and his ... everything else.]

[notathreat]

[The fact that Sam loves Dean, that he'd do anything for him, really comes through in those few words. Ellie's intimately familiar with having only one person to trust, especially from a young age. It puts Dean into perspective too, casts him in a different light. Even his sense of humor.

She'd bet that he's had to be pretty damn hard to protect Sam, too... but by the look in Sam's eyes and how he carries himself, he's seen his fair share of bullshit.

Sometimes there's a sense about people. It's definitely here. But Ellie's not going to try to make anything too heavy, not here and now when they've all had a hell of a scare.]

So you must have a ton of embarrassing stories about him.

[remorseful]

Oh, I do. [Where would he even start? (There are fifteen seasons worth, after all.) He pants a laugh, considering a few of them. He does need to play it safe. One: there's a former soldier behind him. Some of those stories wouldn't play well here. Two: there's the retaliatory risk. The part where Sam is the long-suffering pouty one when things don't go his way. He plays the part well.

Partly because, well. You know. That's who he is. His identity is all but defined by that sullen straight man aesthetic.]

Some of it, uh, requires context. [His head cranes just enough for her to get the hint of "I can't give it to you here."] And some of it is, well. His tentacle porn collection. Which. Trust me. I wish I didn't know about that. Like—at all.

[notathreat]

Dude, I definitely don't wanna hear about the context of the tentacle porn collection.

[Ellie swallows a laugh, but shoots Sam a grin before shaking her head. She's learning way too much about Dean today.]

Knew he was repressed as fuck, though. Poor bastard.