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

[wrend]

( they both know a lot of shit they shouldn't. have fucked around and probably pissed off people in high places. it's not something he likes thinking about either, because it's an absolutely shit move and definitely not something aidan feels like dealing with. but. )

Same back at you. Worst they can do is fuck us over a bit or ( kill them, but killing them wouldn't get anyone answers. ) well. A bit of torture never hurt anyone.

cw mention of self harm

[kestrels]

Empirically incorrect, but whatever.

（ as long as they're both being sassy assholes, they're probably all right. he shakes his head, and then: ）

We need earplugs. I think the compulsion is a response to audio stimuli only. You're the tech guy, what can we use?

（ they might not even have the tools, and it's not like they can fucking leave. there doesn't seem to be any goddamn paper and even if they rip up their clothing it's probably not going to be soundproofed enough. he could, he supposes, do something to damage his eardrums and just work off the assumption he could get it fixed up later, but that's also several steps beyond where they're at. ）

[wrend]

I don't have anything, Jai.

( voice significantly more solemn than one would anticipate from aidan. he raises his hands up, runs palms along the sides of his skull. along thin, healed scarring from previous implants that he'd ripped out of his head. devices with trackers, obvious signatures, things in them that could have fucked him over so he got rid of but now wishes he'd kept for the ride. )

Unless you want to rip up your shirt and shove it in your ears, nothing I've got on me is enough to fuck over whatever they put into our system. Unless you want to completely fuck over your ears, I can shove this ( the fork, which he's using to gesture towards jai again. ) into 'em. But I don't have anything to try and fix them with after either.

[kestrels]

Trust me, I thought about that.

（ he eyes the fork, more considering than wary. pain's — it's nothing, just something to stand. survive. but he trusts aidan's judgement, and if he says there's nothing else they can do, he'll believe that. ）

[wrend]

Theoretically we can replace them, if we fuck them up a little too much.

( but there's a theoretically in there for a reason, because without the tools to do jack shit there's really no guarantee.

granted, galeya probably doesn't have the same limitations that aidan's back alley bull crap does, and she can probably fix shit that's been fucked up for a while, if needed. so there is that. )

But they just left us, and I don't recognize any other faces. You?

[kestrels]

No.

（ not a soul. he slides his fingers against his temple, over the crown of his shaved head. he doesn't make a lot of unnecessary movements, doesn't generally fidget. it's his anxiety crawling front and center, manifesting in old habits. ）

Didn't recognize the shoreline, either. And I would.

（ drugged or not. he's studied every goddamn shoreline on the planet. gal used to blindfold him and get him to identify them with a sand table, constructs solidifying under his hands into cohesive shapes. he's good at it. everything about this screams wrong in a way no other occasion on which he's been kidnapped, tortured, generally been in trouble ever has before.

it's the first time in a long time fear has warred with anger in him, and won. just because the fear isn't for himself doesn't mean much — he needs to get aidan home to riiona. ）

[wrend]

You're fidgeting.

( more a statement of the fact than anything else. aidan takes a deep breath in. sucks his upper lip in to bite on it while he. stops and considers how the hell he's supposed to handle this. he shifts his weight, slides legs under the booth so he's sitting properly. like a normal person: legs under the table, facing jai himself. )

Hold out a hand. ( with his own sliding across the table, palm up. ) Don't shove me off. I'm going to touch your hand, nothing else. Swear.

[kestrels]

（ oh my god be more infantilizing about the fact he doesn't like to fucking touch people, asshole. jai makes an expression somewhere between a toddler that's just stepped in cat puke and a grown-ass man who's irritated at being treated like said toddler, but he does hold out his hand. ）

I'm not scared to touch you, idiot.

（ there's a clear difference between not liking something and being afraid, thank you.

but just then, the empathy bond attacked.

jai's emotions are a tangled web — anger, fear, grim determination, that ever-present cacophony of notgoodenough that's always in the back of his head. concern, so sharp and bright it eclipses all the others. he twitches like he's been burnt, and does jerk back, his face blank, a mask that's obviously meant to disguise the physical manifestation of the verbal sentiment that follows: ）

What the fuck?

[wrend]

( scared isn't the right word, but he snorts at jai being an indignant ass anyway. reaches his other hand out to grab hold of jai's one, intending to run his thumbs down his palms, over knuckles. give him something solidifying and not fucking terrifying to focus on for a moment instead of how fucked everything has gotten. see? he can be helpful.

except their skin touches, and something else happens. a plethora of emotions that definitely do not belong to him intermingled in with his own fucked up fear, anxiety buried deep, the relief that jai actually opted to let him fucking try something barely there considering the shock that bursts to the surface when they actually do make contact. jai jerks back and aidan's pulling both his hands back to his side of the booth just as fast.

purses his lips. )

It wasn't me.

[kestrels]

（ his stomach clenches, wildly uncomfortable, and he is clenching and unclenching his fist like he's trying to shake off the impact of having just punched a goddamn wall. ）

No — no, I know.

（ as upset as he is, as much as that deluge of emotions just fucking beat him down, he wants to reassure aidan he doesn't think it was him, doesn't blame him. aidan wouldn't — fucking trick him into something like that.

he exhales once, hard, and then: ）

Last I checked, you didn't glow when you touched people.

[wrend]

( aidan doesn't want into jai's head. he can barely stand being in his own goddamn head most days. but he sits back. looks at his hands for a moment, then down to his chest and--back up to jai himself.

quirks a corner of his lips up into a half-smile that never reaches his eyes. )

I do have a glowing personality.

[kestrels]

You fucking do not. You're an asshole.

（ he'd throw something at him, if he had anything that wasn't... silverware, which might actually hurt him, so jai settles for a very scathing roll of his eyes that covers up how deeply unsettled he is still feeling. but bringing aidan back to their baseline is fucking miles more important than his own anxieties, so. here he is, doing it. ）

But, uh, strict moratorium on touching for the time being, yeah?

[wrend]

I'm not into whatever that is.

( the feelings. feeling is also definitely not a thing he's into, so there's. no inclination to try that again any time soon. especially not with fucking jai. aidan's pretty sure he knows what it was, even if the idea is enough to make his skin crawl--the idea of jai figuring it out and making contact at an inopportune moment sounds like a recipe for disaster that he would definitely like to avoid. )

So I'm definitely not touching you any time soon.

[kestrels]

（ wow, rude. there's a brief flicker of something in his expression — insecurity? hurt? hard to say. in any case, it's there and gone behind a carefully schooled neutrality. ）

Yeah.

（ he presses the heel of his hand against his sternum, rubbing deep over the bone like he's expecting it to ache. ）

We should probably get back to the others.

（ while it's entirely possible the others they arrived with are plants meant to gain their trust, it's just as possible they're all in this same, shitty boat together. which means it's his job to protect them, too. aidan comes first, but — it doesn't mean he's going to ignore the others. ）

[wrend]

( a flicker, but he's been studying jai's face for years. well. he's known it for years, been studying it for some months. there's a bit of a difference there. but aidan knows him well enough to read when his face breaks, to know when something--hurt. )

You said not to touch. ( repeating, before he takes a breath and continues on. ) You don't like touching, you especially don't like sharing. But if I'm reading this wrong, tell me. Before shit comes up in front of people you don't want it to.

( he's just being smart here. )

[kestrels]

（ literally fuck you, asshole. jai glowers at him, brows drawn down, because aidan is trying to needle him into talking and he doesn't want to fucking talk. ）

No.

（ he doesn't even care if it sounds petulant, anger has stepped in where the hurt lived. ）

We'll deal with it later. Come on.

[wrend]

Fine. I'm not going to argue with you.

( because he's tired and jittery already and arguing with jai gets him absolutely nowhere regardless. but he realizes what he said before jai got all--upset. so he--lets out a breath. moves to slide out of the booth. )

You know I would one hundred percent lean across this booth and shove my face against your face if it wasn't for whatever the hell causes that and your general dislike of physical contact. Right?

( does that help. )

[kestrels]

（ devora's fucking tits, aidan, you can't just say things like that and not expect jai to react some kind of way. he freezes, halfway out of the booth, hands braced on the table.

every once in a while he has to fight some old urge. some instinct. there are times when he takes someone down where he wants to hit them until they're fucking meat. his fingers spasm against the table, physical manifestation of the urge to hit something. but there are other ways his cruelty jumps out — he could just as easily open his mouth and say something scathing that will make aidan take it all back so he doesn't have to fucking deal with actually parsing any deeper meaning to what he just said.

but the problem is that for all those urges that live beneath his skin, they're all — generalized. hurting people. anonymous ones, ones he doesn't have to deal with or think about or care for. aidan's out of that lump sum. has been for a while. and jai doesn't want to hit him or. anything else that hurts, for that matter.

he finishes straightening up without any more incident than the fact his knuckles have gone white with how rigid they'd gone against the tabletop. ）

Yeah, well, you're an idiot.

（ his voice is. rough. ）

[wrend]

( it's a reaction. whether or not it's a good one isn't something that aidan can really translate. they're out of their element. jai is having a real shit day, full of unexpected stupid complications and there's nothing aidan can really say or do to make it better.

he's also having an absolutely shit day. full of complications and shit to fret about that he never anticipated. so whatever. aidan tried his best here. he stands up, presses the toe of his sneakers against the ground. )

Pretty sure you're the idiot here.

( maybe jai has actually been catching up with his education but aidan definitely outbrains him. in more ways than one. but whatever. he rolls his shoulders, stretches out his arms above his head. tries to get his body moving again. )

And I thought I was being blatantly obvious.

( with the play flirting. the fake crush, the banter. the touches when he could get away with it. the fact it turned into something a little more legitimate is something aidan is ignoring and pretending doesn't exist, but. )

[kestrels]

（ why does he keep opening his mouth so words can fall out? it's a fucking mystery. jai is almost wishing he'd taken him up on that whole eardrum rupturing thing, because it'd be preferable to this. whatever this is.

what is this, exactly? he watches as aidan tries to limber up, eyes tracking his hands (always watch the hands in a fight. is this a fight? who the fuck knows anymore) and then he drops his attention away. he shouldn't be letting himself get so preoccupied with personal shit when he should be paying attention to the other people they were brought in with, the sightlines to the door. he should be asking questions and laying on the charm and doing everything properly. instead he's standing here staring at aidan fucking kaase like he just hung the moon but like, suspiciously, and he still doesn't know what to fucking say. ）

I'm not talking about this right now.

（ whatever 'this' is. it's better than saying obvious about what?' or any of the other hundred things that raced to mind. he's choosing to act like he knows exactly what aidan's talking about while simultaneously having no fucking clue, and that's just how it's gonna be, thanks. ）

[wrend]

I'm aware.

( aware jai is an idiot, an asshole, some stupid kid who just got lucky one day and has been riding high on it ever since. whatever. this isn't a conversation aidan ever intends to have further than just. giving jai shit over it anyway.

because it's more fun this way. aidan gives jai a stupid grin. runs fingers through the cropped short hair above an ear. )

You do your thing, I'll do mine.

[kestrels]

（ reason 2909830 why aidan is the dumbest and most infuriating fucking person he knows. god, why is he terrible? he is so terrible. the worst. ）

It doesn't work like that. We're partners now.

（ he told aidan his secret. the one galeya made him promise to never divulge. it doesn't even matter that he already knew, that just means he wasn't doing his job well enough to start with. stupid. ）

There's no doing your own thing.

[wrend]

I was supposed to turn you in. ( voice quieting, this isn't something that should be overheard. ) Everyone was pissed. You were ruining everything. I was supposed to get close enough to find a weak spot, and you know how fucking well that turned out for me.

( the stupid game where aidan very clearly wasn't doing what he was supposed to do and instead was actually helping. the--completely abandoning everything because he decided he wasn't going to do it. ruining the nice, comfortable space he'd made for himself in an otherwise shitty world. the several day detox directly after that he is absolutely going to purposely ruin for himself here in a bit. )

So you can either trust me to know what I'm doing, or you can fuck off.

[kestrels]

（ hooooly shit he does not want to be hearing this. where is that fork. jai just. pointedly stares at something over his shoulder, eyes tracking the motion of people walking behind him so he can highkey disassociate from what he's hearing because he

does not want to be hearing this!! say it louder for the folks in the back ayoo!

his expression tightens, a muscle jumping in his jaw. ）

I didn't ask you to protect me.

（ he meant to sound angry, but it comes out as just. tired. his attention flickers back, holds. ）

And I meant you're not alone. Not — whatever the fuck that （ STUPID! ASS! GODDAMN! OVERREACTION!! ） was.

[wrend]

( it's an overreaction with purpose, okay. one he waits for jai to finish responding to before he continues on. )

No. You do whatever the hell it is you do, I'll do my thing. We're on our own through this part. If they fuck with you to try and get shit out of me, I'm not spilling, and vice versa. Right?

( so there is definitely, one hundred percent, a doing your own thing. )