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

for carolina

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine doesn't remember the last time he cried. It's been too long, and his memories are too tangled. As the Aerie fades away, he cries. Cries because he can feel everything and everyone, a connection so profound that it transcends words. He's with everyone in a strange nowhere, then deep beneath the waves, then watching the constellations burn. He's with them until something slices and shatters him into jagged, incomplete shards, and then…

Then he is ice, and rage, and grief…

And then Maine wakes up in his bed, and his chest immediately glows blue. His power freezes him in place. He pants for air as tears slide down his cheeks, vision blurred but mind blissfully blank. For five minutes, he gets a reprieve. Then his chest stops glowing, and everything crashes down on him at once.

Maine presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, wiping away tears as he struggles to make sense of anything. He can't. He doesn't know how. Doesn't know how to cope with what he just experienced. Doesn't know how to reconcile memories from a different life that feel as real as this one — if not more so. But he has to do something; he has to move. So he rolls out of bed and does the only thing that makes sense when facing something he doesn't know how to handle: he puts on his armor.

The process of armoring up doesn't take long. It's soothing, too. Makes him feel a little more stable. A little more like this Maine, a man who never set foot in the Aerie or the Quarry. By the time he pulls on his helmet, his tears have mercifully stopped. He stands still for a moment, soaking in the feeling of safety (and power) that comes from wearing his armor. Then he opens his bedroom door, ducks through, and looks around for his teammates. ]

[leaderboards]

[ having wash come back from the aerie only for him and carolina to immediately volunteer their efforts to different causes was inevitable, she figures. that doesn't change the fact that it makes their apartment a little too lonely again, so she has music running through her implant, a distraction kept to her head while she's in the kitchen.

a noise catches her attention, so she stops the feed, head tilted a little as she tries to identify it, make sure it's not more of the building falling apart, because that is the last goddamn thing she needs right now. the second noise (maine stepping into the common area) sounds much more like a threat than creaking walls and immediately prepares her for a fight. maine doesn't get very far out of his door before carolina turns, her posture defensive, shield automatically called up between them.

at least recognition is quick enough, carolina's expression wide-eyed for a moment behind the shield before it drops along with her stance, shoulders sagging ever so slightly. ]

Jesus Christ, Maine.

[ she raises a hand, rubs it over her face roughly before she uses it to push her hair back from her face; it falls to the middle of her back now, the same length the carolina in the aerie kept it, but she hasn't done anything with it yet today, leaving it down. ]

You are not allowed to sneak up on people.

[ because it seems easiest to keep her tone light right now, and he did startle her, quite a feat indeed. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Concealing his emotions played no part in Maine's decision to armor up. But when he comes face-to-face with Carolina, he's immediately and intensely grateful that his visor hides his expression. He stands perfectly still as she spins to face him, her shield raised as though he's a threat. Keeps standing still as she dismisses it and brushes back her hair.

… Her hair. Long hair. A length that Maine knows like the back of his hand. He recalls its texture and its smell with sudden, disorienting clarity. And fuck, he's glad he has his helmet on. ]

Sorry.

[ A single grunted word, short enough that no emotion spills out. What else can he say? ]

[leaderboards]

It's— [ okay, she almost says, but it's a word she's been overusing lately, about a lot of things that really aren't okay and maybe that's not a good way to start this conversation. for everything she put maine through, carolina knows he deserves more honesty than that. ]

I wasn't expecting you.

[ obviously.

she wasn't expecting him and now she doesn't know how to feel about him being here, whether the primary sensation is relief or continued disgust with herself or worry about maine's mental state or something else entirely. it doesn't matter, she tells herself, but concern is probably going to be the most useful of reactions. concern and catching him up on the situation, because that's what he would do for her. ]

It's been about two weeks, since the first of us started waking up here again. As far as we can tell, everyone who was on Earth was... there.

[ in the aerie, in some other universe without any recollection of this one, until they died. carolina looks a little distracted, though, a fact that explains itself when maine gets notification of a new message, to the conversation shared between the two of them and wash, previously untouched for the last month:

Hey WA, you're missing a team meeting. Might want to come home early.

message sent, carolina looks to maine's visor, the focus in her gaze the same as it would be if she could actually meet his eyes. ]

You okay?

[bloodbathing]

[ Two weeks…? Maine processes that as he listens, distracted by both the discrepancy and Carolina's preoccupation. He gets an explanation for the latter quickly enough. Opens the notification, sees Carolina's message to Wash, and immediately feels even more grateful that he's wearing his armor. Facing Carolina is disorienting enough. Facing Wash doesn't seem like it'll be much easier.

Answering her question should be simple. It usually is. But even Maine's fallback responses about his physical status won't work. The sensation of shattering is still too fresh to say that he's uninjured. And he can't lie to her; he can't say that he's fine. In the end, he is silent and still for a too-long moment, then he shakes his head once.

No, he's not okay. Not even close. But he doesn't want to explain why. Wouldn't know how to begin. ]

Two weeks?

[ Better to focus on that instead. ]

[hardwearing]

[ Wash's response comes quickly, probably too quickly for Maine's liking if he's struggling with just Carolina. ]

At the gate already. Omw.

[ He doesn't ask in the group chat if Maine is okay; he'll find out soon enough and Carolina can handle it. Besides, he needs to brace himself for the inevitable awkwardness now.

It'll take him about forty minutes to get back, they have time. ]

[leaderboards]

[ maine actually giving a negative response to asking if he's okay surprises carolina more than maybe it should. no one is genuinely handling things well right now, but he usually has an answer for her that isn't... that.

wash's response distracts her before her expression can get too worried though, and carolina takes a deep breath, reminds herself that maine doesn't need her fussing over him. he needs her to be stable. that's what she tells herself at least, setting it as a goal. ]

From what I've been able to gather, we pretty much all died in the few days before that bomb in the Quarry or during everything that happened after. We don't have any sort of explanation right now, but our experiences were consistent, at least.

[ something that was the smallest bit of comfort to carolina in the first few days; the rest of the planet has to come to terms with everything they did in that other life, too. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ "Died" rings in Maine's ears, bouncing around his head as it tries to find someplace to settle so that he can wrap his mind around it. It can't; there's no room. Not on top of everything else. So he doesn't process it. Doesn't think about the implications. Doesn't acknowledge the fact that his best friends both died. Instead, he shoves his feelings down and addresses the inconsistency: ]

I didn't die.

[ His tone is flat; he's stating a fact. But it takes him a moment to say anything more. Gloved fingers twitch at his sides, then curl into fists — not in anger, but to help him focus. ]

Aerie vanished.

[ That's one way to put it, even if it falls woefully short. ]

[leaderboards]

[ maine says he didn't die and carolina is so torn between being relieved that he didn't have to go through that and 'of course he didn't' that she's distracted from his elaboration. she knows what part of her isn't surprised, what part of her is almost annoyed by the confirmation, and fuck, is she glad she's alone in her head right now. even if she wasn't necessarily subtle about it in the aerie, carolina's already disgusted enough with herself for what she did to maine that if there was any chance he'd pick that sentiment up through the empathy bond, she's not sure she'd be able to continue the conversation.

even being stuck with that thought alone makes her response a little too long coming, makes it a little too hard to wrap her head around what 'vanished' might mean in this context. ]

Oh.

[ carolina's not sure how long she made maine wait for that little of a response and the guilt from that just piles onto the rest. she feels her weight shifting restlessly, fighting the urge to go back to making her lunch or pace or leave or something, because just standing here in this feeling is nearly unbearable.

nearly, though. maine deserves more from her. ]

That's— [ her weight shifts again but she catches herself before it can turn into real motion, folding her arms across her chest to try to plant herself long enough to get the worst of this out of the way. ] Better, maybe? I don't know. At least it's over now.

[bloodbathing]

[ Something about his response throws Carolina off. Maybe the idea of the Aerie "vanishing." Maybe the fact that his experience doesn't mesh with everyone else's. Maine doesn't know. Doesn't ask, either. He just watches the slight shifts in her stance. Watches her fold her arms as though she's bracing herself. Tries not to wonder why. Tries not to think at all.

Separating this Carolina from the one he knew back in the station took time, but Maine figured it out. He learned how to push those memories aside. Learned how to stop mixing things up. These days, his slips are minimal; he's mostly mastered it. But those months at Carolina's side in the station don't compare to years spent in another life. How the fuck is he supposed to keep this straight? How is he supposed to repress shit when he knows that Carolina remembers, too?

He says nothing, of course. Stands solid and steady. Keeps his shit together.

Carolina says, "At least it's over now." Maine thinks of shattering, ice, rage, and grief. Privately, he disagrees. Aloud, he says, ]

Sitrep?

[leaderboards]

[ information seems like a better topic anyway, less distressing. she's glad to share it. ]

The whole planet's a mess from a solid two weeks of not having people. More structural damage, supply chain issues, flooding, everything you might expect. We should be good here, though. I've been all over the building and already stocked up before Wash got back.

[ her posture finally relaxes a little as she goes through what she thinks maine needs to know first, although she keeps her arms crossed. just in case. ]

A lot of the civilians are still too shellshocked to do much more than survive, so as usual, the Displaced have been stepping up. I'd suggest catching up with the last two weeks on the Morningstar network, but if the Aerie vanishing brought all of you back, I'm sure the government and emergency services will be pulling itself back together in no time.

[ there's a pause then, carolina glancing away and sounding a little sheepish when she adds, ] Some of our neighbours might keep dropping by, so... Don't be alarmed if they do.

[bloodbathing]

[ It's a solid sitrep. Straight to the point. Gives Maine the information he needs without piling on anything unnecessary. Carolina knows what kind of briefings he prefers, and he always appreciates it.

He nods in acknowledgment. He doesn't use the Morningstar network much, but he understands its value. He'll catch up on what he missed. As for emergency services and everyone else returning? He figures they'll be just as affected by that … experience as he is. Should he try explaining that to Carolina? Where would he start? How would he put it into words?

Maybe he'll tell her later. For now, he tilts his head to the side in question. Asks without words, "Neighbors?"

Why are they dropping by? ]

[leaderboards]

The first day back was particularly... disorienting.

[ the word is too mild to be fully accurate, but carolina's never liked to complain, never liked to broadcast her weak points like that. and that's exactly the reason why some of the neighbours have taken to her the way they have. ]

There was a leak, just above the lobby. I helped someone else get it stopped, but then figured I should check on as much of the building as I could. [ usually, that wouldn't have warranted her checking the whole building, but she didn't exactly love the thought of dying in structural collapses twice in the same week. it's bad enough she remembers it happening once. ] A lot of the people I came across needed a little push in the right direction to get themselves moving again but— They're not used to this, not prepared for this kind of emergency. It's made some of them feel better to think there's someone they could talk to who's handling things better than they are.

[ that sheepish look is back again, so she doesn't elaborate further, just lets maine guess at the rest. even spending time away in new tokyo didn't entirely stop some of the others in the building seeing carolina as a source of stability and she hasn't had the heart to turn them away yet. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ "Disorienting" is a good word, even if it does feel inadequate. Unbidden, a question floats to the surface of Maine's mind: how does death compare to what he experienced? He quickly pushes the question back down. Refuses to acknowledge or consider it. Just listens instead.

It sounds like Carolina has been leading the way, same as always. He's not surprised that their neighbors have started following her. Not surprised that they're appreciative. Not surprised that Carolina is— ]

Keeping busy.

[ — because she always keeps busy. That's one thing that all of Maine's memories agree on, even if the details differ. ]

[leaderboards]

What else would I do?

[ carolina tries to make her tone a little lighter, at least, tries to act less affected than she is. tries not to think about how desperately she wants to tell their neighbours to seek guidance from literally anybody else, because she doesn't know how to help them.

maybe they'll find better resources now. maybe things will get easier.

but worrying that things will only get worse, somehow, has her expression furrowing, a tilt to her head that maine would be able to identify as concern even if he only had her posture to go off of. the look in her eyes only confirms just how much care is behind that concern. ]

Anyway, that catches you up on the key points. I don't want to overwhelm you, but if there's anything else you need, I'm... not going anywhere.

[ maine probably knows that she's here for him, for clarification or answers or company. she hopes he knows that, at least, but given the memories she has of him in the aerie, it feels like an important thing to reiterate. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Something tightens in Maine's chest as Carolina says she isn't going anywhere. The specter of her death looms in his mind, threatening to claw its way back to the surface. Threatening to overwhelm him. He grits his teeth behind his visor. Squeezes his eyes shut. Tells himself to keep his shit together.

He keeps his hands at his sides, fists still clenched. Doesn't reach for her. Doesn't waver. Just nods once in acknowledgment. Then he opens the Morningstar network, and he begins to read.

It's a lot to catch up on. Takes him a while to sort through. There's the usual griping and arguing. Bunch of shit about the moon. He doesn't read everything — he lacks the patience even at the best of times — but he reads what seems important. Remains standing as he does so, only moving to folds his arms. Turns down food when Carolina offers; he's not sure he could choke it down, and he doesn't want to remove his helmet.

When he finally finishes reading, Maine stays silent for another minute or so. Unconsciously, he bows his head slightly as he thinks it all over. Processing it. Slowly putting words to his experience. Then he shifts his weight. Raises his head and speaks again. ]

Felt Blue god shatter.

[leaderboards]

[ outside of offering food, carolina's quiet, finishing before she takes her food to the table to eat, sitting in such a way that she can see maine in her peripheral vision but deliberately isn't watching him. giving him that illusion of privacy that people living in close quarters their whole lives get used to.

she doesn't move when she's finished, just distracts herself, glancing over the latest news from around the world. based on what she's reading, everyone's out of the aerie now, or so close to everyone that it might be some time before anyone is written down as being unaccounted for. whether or not this is a good thing, she doesn't know.

eventually, maine shifts and carolina tips her head slightly, a clear indication of paying attention to him now, although she turns to face him completely when he speaks. not that she replies right away, because how is she supposed to? she's been trying not to think too much about the gods, about the things they've learned here in the last few weeks, because she doesn't know where to start processing information like that. but now she has to, because maine needs her to. needs her to say something. ]

That sounds... [ there's a little frustrated noise in the back of her throat as she trails off, trying to pick a word that means more than 'weird and uncomfortable.' she raises a hand, brushing her hair back out of her face and pressing her fingertips into her hairline, as if that'll help her think, before carolina finally settles on: ] Traumatic. I can't begin to imagine what that would have felt like.

[ she sounds appropriately sympathetic, at least, even if the words aren't quite right. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Carolina's words might take a moment, but they sound right to Maine — even if "traumatic" is putting it lightly. Her sympathetic tone hits harder than her words. It pulls at memories from two different lives, echoing from the mouths of three different Carolinas. It causes Maine's vice-like grip on his emotions to waver, and—

Fuck. What the fuck is he supposed to do?

"Sitrep?" he'd asked, and Carolina had given him just that. Maybe he should do the same. Maybe that would help. Because what happened is important in a way that goes far beyond words. Shouldn't he tell her? Shouldn't he make sure that she understands what happened after she … woke up here?

He takes a breath. Forces out the words. ]

Aerie vanished. Memories returned. We were connected. Could feel everyone. Were floating nowhere, then in an ocean. There were glowing stars. Animals with gold eyes. [ It's a pitiful description. He presses forward anyway. ] Something stabbed us. Felt like spear. Shattered us. It…

[ His jaw works for a moment, but words fail him. And it's so much like what happened in the Aerie that Maine's body goes rigid. His folded arms squeeze tighter, as though he's trying to hold himself back, or in place, or just together. He ducks his head. Feels his armor encasing him. Focuses on it. Reminds himself that he didn't have it in the Aerie. Reminds himself which Maine he is.

He didn't lose his mind in the Quarry. He's a fucking Marine. He can keep his shit together. ]

Everything was cold. Then rage. Then grief.

[ It's still a pitiful description. But it'll have to do. There's no way in hell that Maine will use the empathy bond to share the memory. ]

[leaderboards]

[ what maine already told her was enough, carolina thought. enough to know he'd been through something terrible, but not death, and to understand why he's not leaving his armour right now. if she'd had that option, she would have sealed herself up in her own armour for as long as she could. she gets it.

but then maine elaborates and she really wishes he wouldn't, because it just sounds worse and worse all the time but there's nothing she can do with this information. she wouldn't wish dying the way she did, as slowly as she did, on anyone, but at least that made sense. crushing injuries, blood loss, low oxygen, enough debris around her that she never could have gotten free without help and even then, she still probably would have bled out as soon as she tried to move. that seems wonderfully normal in comparison now, compared to being connected to everyone in some abyss, to shattering.

she doesn't want to hear this but even if she tried not to listen, she knows his body language too well to ignore the distress there. she's ignored it before — maine sitting hunched and silent on a transport, sigma doing all of his talking for him on a mission; maine in the quarry, something in him breaking while she makes recommendations to break him further — and it was always the wrong choice.

he deserves more of her attention than that, after everything he's gone through, after everything she put him through, but that doesn't stop carolina from thinking about interrupting him. about suggesting he find somebody who went through it to talk to, or just making him wait until wash gets home and might have even the slightest idea of how to respond to this. she doesn't, though, if only because she's pretty sure she's never interrupted maine before. she wouldn't know what to say.

carolina could message wash though, figure out how far away he is, how long she needs to stall before maine gets the sort of response he deserves. but her eyes would give away her using her neural interface and fuck, she misses her helmet.

so she watches him with an expression as neutral as she can make it and desperately searches for some thought that might help him. he's already finished, a thick silence between them, when she manages to connect enough thoughts to say something.

it's a memory of him helping her. that means something, she thinks. ]

Like using the bond when one of us gets infected by something from the Gold god, it sounds like. Just multiplied a few billion times.

[ an almost disrespectful oversimplification, carolina worries, but at least it's some sort of response. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ The silence stretches on for a little too long. Maine doesn't think to break it. Doesn't raise his head. He keeps his arms folded tight across his chest. Focuses on his armor. Focuses on being this Maine.

When Carolina breaks the silence, Maine looks up. For a second, he doesn't respond. Then he tilts his head to the side, and a fraction of tension unwinds from his shoulders as something clicks into place.

He remembers that vividly. He had to pin Carolina to a wall to remove the slug controlling her — something he never could've done under normal circumstances. He'd grabbed hold of her wrist and let the empathy bond do its work. It had burned, but then it was … peaceful. Peace followed by grief. And he remembers, then, the sense of peace that followed after the gold glow dimmed from the animals' eyes.

He nods. ]

Felt peaceful after.

[ Something that hadn't left nearly as strong an impression compared to everything else. ]

[leaderboards]

[ there's the tiniest shift in maine's posture that tells carolina that even if she didn't necessarily help, drawing the connection between the two events didn't make anything worse. she'll take that.

when maine says something felt peaceful, she assumes he means after helping her, because that's a sensation she remembers, too. remembers something unnatural about the initial tranquility before she could sort out her head enough to feel relief— hers and maine's both.

but then she thinks (hopes) that he means to add that to what he'd just told her of what he experienced, and there's a flicker of relief clear in carolina's eyes before she catches herself. ]

It'd be nice if we could just skip to that peaceful part.

[ it would also be nice if carolina didn't have to now think about those experiences as being the result of a perpetual conflict between gods, but she knows better than to let herself slip into denial. at least when she's trying to help maine. maybe later, maybe when wash is here. ]

I'm sorry you had to go through that.

[bloodbathing]

[ Under different circumstances, Carolina's first comment might earn a quiet huff of laughter. It doesn't right now. However, a little more tension bleeds from Maine's shoulders, and he stops crossing his arms quite so tightly. Relaxing by degrees. ]

Could've been worse.

[ … Somehow. He's not sure how at the moment, but it could've been.

His head remains slightly tilted to one side, a sign that he's thinking things over. He doesn't know what to make of the connection between grief, peace, and the Gold god, but he's sure it's there. Sure that it means something. ]

[hardwearing]

[ It's about now that Maine and Carolina will hear a key in the lock. The door opens to reveal Wash, just slightly flushed and breathless like he ran the majority of the way. He takes in the two of them -- Carolina looking somber and Maine in his armor when as far as he knows, the city isn't under attack or anything. He must be in it like a security blanket, they all have that instinct.

Wash closes the door behind him and steps in, reaching for Carolina's hand as he approaches because hugging Maine really isn't an option right now.

The plus side of the armor is that it makes this reunion a little less awkward, maybe? ]

Hey. Welcome back... you guys okay?

[ It seems like a no, but he wants to hear it from them. ]

[leaderboards]

[ oh, thank god. wash being home is a relief, makes carolina instantly a little more relaxed, even if she's feeling guilty about that. she should have been able to relax with maine, but between the mess that comes from her freshest memories of him and how utterly incapable of helping him she feels, wash's presence is a very welcome one.

she's still sitting at the table, but she's quick to take wash's hand when he reaches for her, fingers wrapping around his and squeezing tight. ]

Hey. We've been comparing notes.

[ so, no, they're not okay.

it shouldn't surprise wash that carolina feels a lot less composed than she looks, wanting to be anywhere but here and judging herself for that, wanting to help maine and not having the slightest idea of where to start. there's a little hope, although it feels almost desperate: wash is better at this stuff than she is and she's so grateful he's here.

it only feels fair to catch him up, and considering how much maine just told her, carolina wants to give him the option of not repeating himself. he can correct her or elaborate, but he doesn't have to. ]

So far, it seems everyone who was still missing as of earlier today left the Aerie in a different way than we did. [ not by dying, carolina means, but that's clearly not a good thing. ] It... stopped existing. Something to do with the conflict between the Blue and Gold gods, but I have no idea what.

[bloodbathing]

[ Between reading up on everything he missed and this latest realization, Maine momentarily forgets that Wash is on the way. He remembers it when the door opens. Looks over as Wash enters, flushed and breathless. It's a sight Maine has seen many times, both in this context and others. But with the Aerie still fresh in his mind, it's those memories that immediately spring to mind.

Good thing his visor conceals his expression.

Maine watches Wash go to Carolina's side and take her hand. Watches the blue glow as the empathy bond activates. Feels grateful, again, that he's wearing his armor.

"Conflict" doesn't sit quite right with Maine, but he doesn't correct it. He remains silent instead, his arms still folded, his head no longer canted to the side in thought. His body language is still pretty tense, but it reads as more attentive than distressed. Privately, he's grateful that Carolina is speaking for him; he doesn't want to explain it all again. ]