ARRIVAL LOG #030

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: The Insomniacs' Ball, the city of New Amsterdam.
WHEN: September 7th and onward.
WHAT: The Insomniacs' Ball is taking place, if a bit delayed, and the city of New Amsterdam is in a state of flux.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Coercion and loss of autonomy; alcohol and drug use.

> ARRIVAL LOG #030

Awareness comes to you in blurred snatches, cloudy fragments of sound, light, color, and sensation. It's hard to grasp onto anything but a series of rhythmic beeps, a medicinal astringent smell, and the sensation of movement beneath you. Your eyes are heavy and you struggle to keep them open, but in the glimpses between slow blinks, you see a man in front of you dressed in all white. There isn't any other visibility. Not yet.

You realize there are a few others with you who are dressed the same as you. Most notably, all of you have button-down print shirts, the prints being different types of… birds? To your left there's an armored interior door, two more people visible, and large, hulking buildings passing by through the window. You try to open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your tongue is coated in tar, and you manage nothing more than an empty parting of lips.

When the vehicle stops, a nurse steps into view. His jaw is set as he pulls the IV out of your arm, but there's a practiced way in which he does this, as if this is nothing more than business as usual for him. As if he's done it before.

The nurse opens up the van's door soon after, and he steps out, monitoring the way the two heavily armed soldiers escort out you and the others. Once all of you have left the van, they get everyone lined up. "We'll keep this short and sweet," one of the guards says as she looks you all over with little more than a passing interest. "Go around the corner and into the sports bar. There, you'll find people like you. With the glow. They'll take it from here."

With the orders given, the guards pile back into the van and pull off into the sky, hitting the road. The road, of course, is in the sky. For the newcomers, it's better to head into the bar like directed. Well, it's not like you have any choice in the matter. Besides, it's hot as hell outside and the sooner that you can get away from the punishing sun, the better.

◉ 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.

Moments before the drop offs occur, a message comes from one Jacob Harold in the inboxes of all of the current Displaced. Strangely enough, it reads like a manufacturing message from Giles Bell's warranty department.

Back to business as usual, huh? I kinda wanted to drop the newcomers off at the ball again, but apparently dropping drugged people off in a nightmare setting is frowned upon.

So, um, this! Sorry for the cloak and daggers name. I'm experimenting. Not everyone has AI on their side to help them out. Could you have one of them let me know how secure this is? The endgame being to give you all a direct line to me, as requested.

That's all!

Oh, before I forget. Do you like their shirts? Should I buy some for all of you?

— JH

> THE STATE OF NEW AMSTERDAM

Out of the alley and around to the front, the newcomers will find a city that is in the process of rebuilding itself. While New Amsterdam has seen better days, it's starting to regain some of its more pristine gleam that it especially tends to acquire in the summer time.

Despite that, New Amsterdam has been through a lot—so much that it's almost impossible to summarize it all. The city's seen a lot of tragedy between giant kaiju attacks, EMP that killed lots of people, a vengeance-driven simulation put on by a very angry AI, and an additional monster attack, though this one was worldwide. Oddly enough, New Amsterdam fared the best throughout the attacks because of the intervention from the strange people with the blue glowing chests (known to each other colloquially as "the Displaced"). Most recently, the entire population of this world was pulled into another universe, their minds altered to believe that they had always lived in this strange place called The Aerie. With an overpopulation problem that was solved via monthly battle royales starring anyone who broke a law, it was not an easy place to live for many. Now that everyone's returned to the real world, they still have memories of that other life layered on, and it's a lot to process. So if people seem unwilling to talk, or off in any way, there may be a reason other than big-city unfriendliness.

And what of the Displaced? These people have had a presence in New Amsterdam for a while. First, they were the weirdos who inspired messages from the NAPD to remind people that vigilantism is a bad idea after they took out a kaiju all by themselves. Later, they were creeping into medical wings and heading up into the floating pyramid outside of the city to help bring the environmental grid around the world back online. After the simulation where their powers were key to causing little glitches throughout the experience, the Displaced became more widely known, a pattern that has only continued as some of them were quite high-profile in the Aerie as key members of the ruling class or repeat victors of the battle royales. The very same bar that everyone got dropped off at today is also one of their bases of operation.

There has been a group that has quietly appreciated the Displaced for a while. Around September 2511, little shrines started sprouting up around the city depicting the Displaced. While many of these shrines were simple in nature, made up of candles and a piece of art portraying someone with a blue shape coming out of their chest, others were beautiful murals, lavish in every way. These murals sell for a lot of money, but the people buying them don't seem to know why these paintings are a big deal.

Are the Displaced worthy of shrines and attention? Debatable. The people connected to the shrines think they're either touched by god, gods themselves, or carrying something god-like within them. And as it turned out? They were right. These people tend to be marked with sacred geometry tattoos. They aren't in the majority in the city by any means, but they were the first "fans" of the Displaced. Now that the Displaced are becoming known, their shrines are getting more notice. And with the existence of gods becoming a reality rather than a belief, other religious groups are cropping up as well, strange in a world that was once purely secular.

Along the way, the Displaced have made some enemies, and the fact that all of the Cardinals in the Aerie were Displaced isn't helping matters. The UN, the most powerful governmental force in this world, has made little secret that they're not fans, and now they're taking additional steps with a newly announced Task Force that will be investigating all of the strange goings-on of the past year or so — much of which revolved around the Displaced. (More on that below!) Thankfully, the governor of New Amsterdam, Joseph Lynch, has at least spoken out in support of the Displaced.

There are also the corporations, the most notable at the moment being Riverstone. A former entertainment mogul in the 20th and 21st centuries, Riverstone eventually began to broaden their interests prior to World War III. Most recently, they offered to perform tests on the Displaced in exchange for some information. Riverstone has a mild presence in New Amsterdam, but has a symbiotic relationship with the United Nations in their capital city, New Beijing.

It feels important to note that it's hot in New Amsterdam right now, hot and humid and sticky, with frequent downpours. There is also water rationing going on. Despite that, the city of New Amsterdam continues to be overgrown with plant life and greenery that clogs up plumbing everywhere. What's that about? You guessed it, it's another weird Displaced-caused thing.

> RED WINGS
The newcomers were directed to head into a bar that is on the other side of the alley, and there is only one available: the Displaced-run Red Wings. While Red Wings has looked worse for wear thanks to the semi-recent monster attack, it's starting to look like its old self again. Bright red lights welcome the newcomers inside. The windows have been repaired, and the bar looks like it's in better shape. Thanks to the attack, there are still some cosmetic changes in progress to freshen up the place, getting rid of the booths and replacing them with tables, but the majority of the clean-up work seems to be done now.

Business has slowed a bit at Red Wings since Stephen Strange returned to work. Given his role as a Cardinal, the fanfare for the business has died down a little. While it's not possible for any of the newcomers to see because their implant hasn't been activated yet, there are various baseball and soccer games from around the world playing on projected screens. Too bad there aren't as many patrons watching. The good news is that there will be plenty of room to sit down and have a meal before heading off to the safehouse across town.

> THE INSOMNIACS' BALL

Once again, word of the Insomniac’s Ball spreads through rumors and snatched whispers. It seems that, despite the state of the city and its resources, the infamous event is still happening.

The Ball is a week long event, considered an urban myth by most and an unobtainable bucket list item for the rest. The timing changes every year, and the location is a closely guarded secret, but one thing remains consistent—it’s an all hours party that disappears as mysteriously as it appears. This year, it's widely known that a new showrunner is in charge after the previous host passed away. Though the old host kept his identity a secret, the new one, Nirvana, hasn't bothered. To a degree, this is her coming out party in her new role.

Thanks to leaks of information within the Aerie that were a little too on the nose, Nirvana has now been outed as Legion: the Banksy-like figure who's been painting murals all around New Amsterdam for the last year. Before this reveal, Nirvana was known as a standoffish member of the upper, upper class: primed to step into an executive position at Pulsar once she was ready. Her family, the Maree family, are a part of the capitalist oligarchy that rules the world, and they have a firm grip on their place in it. All the gossip surrounding Nirvana now is that she's been disowned by her family for her vandalism and association with spiritual occultism around the city. Most people assume that while Nirvana wasn't responsible for the spiritual surge of interest around the city prior to the Aerie, she was in league with the man responsible because of their close ties since childhood. Instead of wallowing in her exile, she seems to make it her own, embracing it.

For anyone who searches for her social media, there will be nothing but the standard run-of-the-mill CoolTalk. She likes to keep to herself, and coincidentally, that's not possible anymore.

> INVITATIONS
But how do you get in? This year, the Displaced aren’t getting a special invite, and so they’ll have to vie for their spot just like everyone else. The goal is to make waves in claiming New Amsterdam. Nirvana never does anything small.

◉ One way is to make an impression. Are you an artist? A musician? Can you create something that elicits a strong emotional response from your audience, for better or worse? This year, artists and performers of all stripes start receiving invitations to the Ball after posting their work on social media, and soon enough, a frenzy starts. No one knows what the shared thread is here, and no one knows what Nirvana is looking for, but if you can grab her attention and generate some buzz with your work, receiving an invitation is inevitable.

◉ Another is to take a big dare. Just like last year, this is the choice for the brave, or those who just love an adrenaline rush. Sometimes they’re simple—burst into song in a crowd, or declare yourself the most beloved celebrity in New Amsterdam to anyone who will listen. Sometimes, they’re more dangerous. Can you climb the vines twisting to the top of that building? Can you tiptoe across a steel beam connecting two stories-high skyscrapers? Are you willing to show off your powers? Steal a hoverbike? Play chicken with the NAPD? Whatever you do, the idea is the same—get Nirvana’s attention, get an invitation.

◉ Lastly, there's always word of mouth. It's possible that you overhear someone talking about the Ball. While no one will outright speak about it for fear of the shut down from law enforcement, however if you lean in just right, you may have the possibility of being lucky. It's also possible that you may know someone who's already got an invitation—ready to be a +1?

Before long, a rumor spreads: Nirvana is looking for a bit of Shakespearian inspiration in the execution of the dares. Wherefore art thou courage? Who cares if "wherefore" means "why"?

Once an invite is secured, those who have been to the Ball before will realize this one is in a new location—a warehouse in an industrial section of town owned by one of the Maree family's associated companies, Prism LLC. From the outside, the building would be easy to miss. It’s boxy and gray, bland to the naked eye. Inside is another story.

> 24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE
The entire interior has been sectioned off into a maze-like combination of corridors and rooms, one leading into the other into the other. With the windows blacked out, it’s easy to get lost, and easier to lose track of time. This Ball doesn’t feel like a Ball at all, but a disorienting combination of art festival, installation, rave and concert. Unlike past events, Nirvana has chosen a theme for the evening: Star-Crossed Lovers. Fitting the theme, there are snippets of oratories from Romeo and Juliet that play throughout the Ball, cutting through the eclectic scenery.

Some of the hallways are long and expansive, lined with artists in the middle of painting walls and canvases, some switching and painting over the others' work in a grand display of creative freedom. Some are narrow and winding, with strobing lights and splashes of neon color, leading into rooms that seem to have no common theme. Some are bright and colorful, filled with strange, playful objects that make them feel more like giant cartoonish playgrounds. Some are disorienting, with dark mirrored walls and lights that make them feel like an endless field of stars. Some are stately galleries, art carefully hung on the walls. The art is all inspired by paintings from the 16th century—with a 2512 flair. As tacky as this merger could be, it seems that the curator had a talent for avoiding the more gaudy and out of place works that could have appeared. Some are intimate concert spaces where musicians play to a small crowd. And, of course, some take full advantage of the implants and VR, turned into interactive experiences where attendees are as much a part of the art as the sculptures and paintings.

One of the more unique settings to this modern world is the library-like installations throughout. This unique place is lit only by candles hidden behind glass paneling on the makeshift walls, concealed from disruption (and kept safe to prevent any kind of fire hazard). Most of the books were published in the mid-21st century, just prior to World War III, and they show the signs of wear and tear typical to most books in the 26th century: missing pages, notations in the margins, as well as covers that only hold on thanks to long-degraded masking tape. All of the authors are from the 16th century (Shakespeare, Marlowe, Luther, and more), and it seems likely that they were pilfered from a private collection once held very dear. Their presence here and out in the open, left carelessly for any attendee to touch is a sign of quiet, candlelit rebellion.

And then, of course, there’s the party. DJs are just as ubiquitous as the crooners with acoustic guitars. Food and drink is plentiful, despite the water rationing outside. Wine is the alcohol of choice (with other accompanying hard liquors and beers), all on display in casks or kegs covered in artwork by local artisans. There's even a few curious containers that have some unique markings that don't seem to be just part of the artwork. Excerpts from Romeo and Juliet that may glean knowledge to their contents. Give them a small sip and find that each is imbued with different psychotropic substances. You can't go far without being offered something, either.

Attendees show up to impress, some wearing nothing but complex, glowing body paint, some wearing elaborate, hyper-detailed costumes. If you showed up a little underdressed, there will certainly be someone willing to pull you aside and give you a mask, or spruce you up with some over-the-top makeup or help cover you up in nothing more than body paint.

> A GRAND EXPRESSION OF MOVEMENT
Want to get involved? There aren’t any rules here. An artist or musician can plant themselves wherever there’s space and to express themselves to their heart’s content. Some of the installations encourage this, asking attendees to draw on the pieces or even interact with each other, taking quizzes that seem to make no sense or solving puzzles together. Paint and artist implements are plentiful, being offered to anyone who'll take them. Acrobats tumble and contortionists twist themselves into impossible shapes. Street performers and illusionists feed off of the energy of passersby, pulling you into their performances without warning. They were all either invited, or had found a way in due to their talents, weaving their way into the masterpiece.

> LIKE FIRE AND POWDER
After the Ball comes to a close, everyone will be cleared out. By then, the warehouse is unlikely to look like it did at the start: repainted and reimagined, a piece of collaborative art in itself, having now dragged everyone back to a simpler time. There will be sober people passing between the walls time and again to ensure that everyone's out. Once it's done, the warehouse will implode: it's a planned and controlled demolition, and a middle finger to the parent company that owns the warehouse itself: Pulsar.

◉ The Insomniacs' Ball and the related methods of gaining an invite will last for one week, from September 7-14.

◉ We will not be dictating set pieces of the invites or challenges—these are left to player discretion as to what your character would have realistically managed to complete! Feel free to be creative.

◉ The invites themselves are business card sized pieces of metal with an intricate geometric pattern etched on one side, and an address on the other, as well as a quote from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. The address leads to a quick series of clues and locations which will take characters to the door as described. Any written clues appear in iambic pentameter.

◉ The same geometric design will be present throughout the ball, worn by some of the guests and doorpeople, and integrated into most of the art. Those who aren't wearing it may be painted with it, glowing with various alchemic and sacred symbols.

◉ While in the Ball, Nirvana will be circulating throughout. Unlike the previous host, she does little to hide herself. That doesn't mean she's inviting anyone to come closer: from the look in her eyes and the bright paint she wears all over her body, she's here for the party as much as anyone else. She may dance with the Displaced, or be approached for a chat here. Keep in mind she's also inclined to ditch someone or walk away in the middle a conversation.

> AROUND THE CITY

Of course, not everyone is going to have the skill, idea, or inclination to attend the Insomniacs' Ball. There's plenty of other things going on around New Amsterdam other than the exclusive party, however.

> SPECIAL INVESTIGATION TASK FORCE
With the entire population of not just New Amsterdam, but the whole world, still reeling from what happened in the Aerie, most people are hungry for answers. What whisked them away into that other world, and why? Was someone or something in particular behind it? With the existence of the Displaced becoming more and more known, there are plenty of people who believe them to be involved in some way, and the UN is perpetuating that belief.

Their new task force isn't just about investigating the Displaced, but they are looking into all of the strange occurrences that have usually revolved around this group of extraordinary people. If someone were to assume that all roads lead back to the Displaced, they wouldn't be wrong. Given that so much of that was based in New Amsterdam, a good chunk of the task force's personnel and resources will be funneled into this particular city.

What this means is that even just going about one's daily life, it will be hard to shake the sense that there are people around watching everything with a close eye. The secret police, many who served as Shrikes in the Aerie and therefore have specialized training, will not be overt in their surveillance. However, if someone does something that is out of the ordinary in some way, whether it's accidentally (or purposefully) using their powers or causing any kind of ruckus, they may be stopped for questioning.

It won't necessarily go any further than that (and if it might, please let us know so we can field your questions!), but everyone's going to feel like they need to keep checking over their shoulder.

> NEW RELIGION
While the cult described above in the State of New Amsterdam section has been around for some time, they're no longer the only religious group that exists in this city. With the Aerie also came the confirmation the gods are real, and there are various groups that have sprung up, sorting out how they want to worship these mysterious figures.

Their creeds and ways of worship are in the fledgling stages, not fully formed and running the full gamut. Abandoned buildings have been repurposed into makeshift chapels or shrines, and in some cases there are even would-be pastors giving sermons. Some of it is apocalyptic, speaking of how the end is near and how everyone must repent before the precious little time that is left is up. Others are much more hopeful, discussing how one might appeal to one of the remaining gods for their assistance in healing the world.

And then there's the straight-up weird. One of the gods that's now known, Gold, was behind the monster attacks that almost leveled so many cities. Some people have managed to hold onto monster body parts and are now worshipping them as holy symbols. Others are finding ways to refine and ingest said body parts, using them as a way to get high and go on some kind of spiritual journey. There's a lot to interact with here, for better or worse, but these newly-sprouted groups can also be intercepted and influenced.

The Displaced have a piece of a god inside them, after all.

> THE KESTRELS
The Kestrels were a rebel group that existed within the Quarry, as they were determined to fight back against a broken system that only seemed interested in making people suffer. They are now exerting themselves within the real world as well, with many of those ideas and beliefs transferring over, as the oppressive corporations are not truly so different from Parliament when you get right down to it.

This rebel group is not particularly well-organized as of yet, but that won't stop them from taking radical actions not just in New Amsterdam, but other parts of the world as well. Unlike Morningstar, they have no compunctions about resorting to extremist measures to get their point across. What might this look like? Well, the Kestrels in the Aerie got their point across by setting off bombs, and while they no longer have the resources to do anything too flashy, they might still try their luck where they can. So smaller explosions that aren't going to do a ton of lasting damage, but will still get some notice and news coverage.

Their target? Well, any corporation they see as corrupt and taking advantage of the little guy. Granted, with the UN's task force out, it's likely that some of these over-ambitious rebels are going to get arrested in short order. It's up to the Displaced if they want to provide guidance or aid, or if they want to condemn the Kestrels and their extreme methods.

> WORK OPPORTUNITIES
For both the newly arrived and anyone else who might have found themselves out of a job for whatever reasons, there's plenty to choose from within the city.

◉ As the food and restaurant industry in New Amsterdam gets up on its feet, there will be a special call for temp jobs! Anyone who needs some quick extra credits can pull their weight at a warehouse, in one of the hydroponic gardens (or regular gardens, for that matter), or helping to prep food at one of the local restaurants.

◉ The Department of Wildlife Protection and Services is a newly-minted department within city hall which has been established to make sure that the new animal life that's popped up within the world is… well, protected. If anyone has a passion for this, they could see about tossing in an application for an entry level position.

◉ Want to start exploring space? The colonies will be calling for people to help them to help foster their independence. That includes scientists, those competent in law, and those willing to lend time and resources toward their independence. This is still a potential player plot! El and Cassius will also be willing to help in this regard, as they're still quietly supporting the colonies, and can assist in finding the Displaced ways to get out into space.

◉ And plenty more! Feel free to look at the SETTING and JOBS page for any other ideas.

> SAFEHOUSE

Not long after their arrival (so within a few hours), the new Displaced will be brought across the city to an abandoned hover-bike garage in a neighborhood that's clearly seen better days. This escort will come from their fellow Displaced, those who've been here for some time now and know the way arrivals usually play out. If there's a situation where they wouldn't go to the safehouse willingly, the compliance drug will be in place, but this is naturally something that can be plotted out specifically with other players!

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. Gaby won't be around this time to help out, so the Displaced will have to handle her usual duties, but newbies can 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. There was a VR system for anyone who'd be hanging around the safehouse for a long time, but it's currently still out for repairs. Unfortunately, the partitions that were setup were destroyed by some viciously digging moles, so privacy is back to being nonexistent down in the safehouse.

◉ 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, but it's well-stocked.

◉ While the kitchen has basic foods and necessities, 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.

◉ With Gaby out, shortly after their arrival, El will message the newcomers to explain the basics. Ze will explain that they've been given a modest stipend of credits 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.

◉ It will be made clear to new characters that in this world, everything is reliant on the implants and their associated IDs. Without them, new arrivals can't do anything—no buying anything or even opening doors. Without IDs, people stick out like a sore thumb, and with certain powerful entities in this world gunning for the Displaced, this could be incredibly dangerous for them.

◉ New characters will be given rudimentary access to the network on arrival in 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 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 won't open for them, not because it's locked, but because no IDs means no doors will open at all. This will make it impossible for them to get out for the next four days until their IDs have been finalized by El. There won't be any immediately obvious ways to cut their way out through turning off the power, either. Not everyone loves the safehouse system, but it's the best they've got for now and current Displaced will usually come by to help newbies pass the time and answer their questions. Time to sit tight.

◉ As a note, if any character does manage to leave the safehouse because someone let them out either accidentally or purposefully, we need the players involved to drop us a line! For further details on the current safehouse procedures and how they came about, please see this post!

◉ New characters will not be allowed to leave the safehouse until SEPTEMBER 11 (FEBRUARY 20). 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

You're now free to post to the network and logs comms. To reiterate, your characters will have no IDs or inboxes, nor be allowed to roam free until after those initial four days have passed. Until then, all characters will appear as @anonymous on the network. While sitting down 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 specific to this log, there is a thread below.

If you'd like to have your character bump into Nirvana at the Ball, check out the thread below. Please keep in mind these will not be fully RPed scenarios and that Nirvana (who's a touch colder than her deceased bestie, Ball) is both blitzed out of her mind and far less likely to show protracted interest in the Displaced. Meaning: she might just ignore them.

The February CR meme for the month is here.

Please check out our February calendar rundown for a look at things happening this month.

AC will remain halved for the foreseeable future. New players will only need to provide at least five comments across two-four (2-4) threads, while older players will only need to provide ten comments across two-four (2-4) threads. Please let us know if you have any questions about this!

> NAVIGATION

Comments

QUESTIONS

[larkers]

[lifetothefullest]

OKAY, as promised on plot engagement, quick clarity question here: Do characters ICly know that former Shrikes in particular are being recruited for the task force (like was that part of the public info being released about it), or is that something they have to figure out? Also simple adjacent question: it seems like from the description here it isn't ONLY Shrikes on the task force, just mostly; is that right?

NIRVANA

[amstrdm]

Hit us up for some Nirvana interactions here! These will not be played out. Please read the notes above.

[filloryfanatic]

Hello this should be no surprise, Quentin will approach Nirvana at the party! He'll introduce himself, possibly while dancing extremely awkwardly because he gets that it's a party and he's met Bacchus who loves parties. He is not going to ply her with questions like he did Ball. He'll just want to introduce himself as one of the Displaced and let her know if she needs or wants anything in the future, let him know. He figures this isn't really the place to get deep unless she chooses it to be!

[malta]

joe signs his paintings as yusuf al-kaysani (because they can't arrest yusuf al-kaysani!) and so he will introduce himself as yusuf al-kaysani and thank her for the invitation finger guns

(he will not finger guns tho)

[mahem]

Harley would definitely try to get some face time with Nirvana at the party! Being a very obvious and somewhat boisterous presence, she'd probably earn herself an invite after completing the equivalent of a dare, but at the ball she'll be attracted to Nirvana's pretty pretty paint and strike up a conversation that doesn't manage to get too deep or probing. Mostly, she's a magpie drawn to bright things and bold people and would just want to say hello!

jo harvelle | open

[damnrightreo]

🗡️ RED WINGS - what can i get you, sailor

[ there is a certain furious impotence in feeling helpless and jo hates it. it makes her skin crawl, the compulsion to obey. jo can be contrary for the sake of it, especially when someone is telling her what to do and now she can't even snap that she will not, actually, and fuck you very much. her mouth feels coated in tar, her head full of cotton, and for a moment she digs in with stubborn tenacity and doesn't move, inhaling fresh air that seems more water than air.

eventually her feet move her forward and when she steps into the bar, the compulsion leaves. jo could walk out again, disappear into the night and... okay, maybe that's not the best plan. water first.

the bar itself is pretty empty so jo wastes no time grabbing herself a glass and filling it from the soda gun. she fits easily behind the bar and after gulping the contents of her glass and pouring herself another to drink more sedately, jo decides behind the bar will be better in the long run. she knows jack shit and she isn't about to act like some wilting flower when she knows the ins and outs of a bar like the back of her hand. all she needs to do is get her bearings and gather some information and move on from there.

there's some comfort in deciding, tying the bottom of her shirt in front of her so it fits better — the flamingos are cute — and leaning her elbows on the bar like she belongs there. ]

What can I get you?

🗡️ SAFEHOUSE - always wanted to go to sleepaway camp

[ she's keeping the shirt. she hasn't seen a flamingo since she was a little girl visiting the zoo, but they're cute and the shirt fits, so she is careful to fold it after she pulls on a new tee shirt.

she's in the bathroom, shirt hiked up to peer at the scars on her abdomen. they weren't scars the last time she's taken a glance down, they'd been fresh and bleeding despite the pressure and the bandages and her mother's desperate whispers. now they're closed, fresh pink skin grown over the claw marks and not a single mark from the bomb.

her hands hit the counter abruptly, holding herself up as the breath whooshes out of her and her knees buckle. ]

Fuck.

🗡️ WILDCARD

( go where you're heart takes you or hit me up on disco @ baleinette#3692 yolo )

safehouse

[hierophante]

[Time is a heavy concept to carry, like every faithless thing. There's no stopping it. It can be slowed or sped up, looped back on itself, it slips by in fits and starts but it never stops. That alone can be hard enough to bear, but when the weight shifts suddenly -- when more of it lands on one's shoulders than anticipated -- it may drag the body down with it.

Of all the things OA knows, this may be most evergreen. That's why she's here. The new arrivals always come carrying so much, so much time and void, absence, loss. Information. Anger, often as not. Her own shoulders are slender, even now when the hunger she'd once known is an increasingly distant memory, but they can carry more than they look as though they can. It's the least she can do to offer to take some of what the new arrivals can carry onto her own back.

Some days literally. It seems as though this is one.

OA moves smoothly to Jo's side, arm out, ready to grip the moment it becomes necessary but unwilling to force the issue of touch until it is.]

Hey. Hey, okay. You don't have to carry it all now. Breathe first.

red wing

[carrera]

[There's so much about this that has Dick's brain racing to try and make sense of it all. Sadly he keeps coming back to blinking at the view out the window as whatever's in his system drags his thoughts back to a much slower speed.

There's a small voice in the back of his head reminding him of the time he had been drugged and he's living that again. Or that it's the dark magic of a being like Trigon, and that this is all in his head, living out a horrible reality. Though the fact his shirt has swallows in flight on a blue shirt and not robins might say it's not that bad.

Wanting to go off somewhere to clear his head and get more info, Dick finds himself instead going along with the idea of heading for this bar and immediately making his way to the blonde behind the bar.]

Whiskey with a water back. But don't really need the whiskey.

[Part of him wants to sink into a drink right now but there's too many questions to cloud his mind more.]

red wings!

[dickism]

[Dick's just come back from the Insomniac's Ball when he shows back up at Red Wings. It's... uh, a lot, and while he's not dressed too garishly—in a sort of gauze-y button up open to his chest—there is glitter smeared on his cheek. He loved the energy of the place, sure, but it's kind of nice to collect his thoughts back here. And he is, maybe surprisingly, totally sober.

He doesn't recognize the new woman behind the bar, but he takes in the shaved head and shoots her a friendly smile.]

Water, please. A lot of water.

Glimmer | open!

[sparklequeen]

Big Fun

After being spotted contributing to Joe's mural, Glimmer has managed to secure an invitation to the party. A perfect way to get out and distract herself from all her worries!.

If Glimmer is spotted at the Ball, she's dressed as best she can for the good time--shorts, a loose top without sleeves, and glitter. Glittery make-up sparkles on her cheeks, legs, arms, forehead--where ever she can put it, there's shimmering pink, purple, and silver glitter. Even her hair is flecked with shining dots!

Glimmer can be found a couple places. During the more high energy parts of the night, you might bump into her in oneof the cramped dance floors dancing like there's no tomorrow and nothing matters, her whole body enraptured by music. Other times, she might be found seated in one of the cozy side rooms, sprawled out to listen as someone plucks a quiet, emotional song on a guitar or other instrument.

She might be elsewhere, where one of the art exhibits hands out cans, bottles, any container that can be found. Each of the dispensers holds various shades of bright UV reactive paint (skin safe, of course). Participants are encouraged to smear it across the walls, paint new designs, add to murals--or simply splatter or brush it onto your friends. The room is lit entirely by blacklights and the bright kaleidoscope of neon colors are accompanied by music offered by a single DJ crammed into one corner.

Or maybe Glimmer can be found peering at the tattered books in the quieter library sections. She doesn't touch the books. They're too precious for that, she thinks, but she marvels at them all the same, if only because they're some of the first paper she's seen since she got here that wasn't handmade by Joe.

( Feel free to switch it up to brackets if you want when you tag me. Or if you have an idea that isn't here, go wild. )

shut up and dance (closed to Nile)

[sparklequeen]

Glimmer came here in part just to see what a party like this might be like. She also came here because she really, really wanted to get her mind off some of the more serious stuff that seemed to tug at her mind. Her friends, Ellie, the Aerie--all of it was too much. Maybe she could try and lose herself a little in this celebration--find a way to enjoy herself in spite of the worries. For now, that means cutting loose. As she and her friend spill out into one of the larger rooms, they're met by a wall of musical noise and the pounding rythyms of club music. A swelling crowd dances and gyrates beneath flashing light. The place is a riot of sound, color, and motion.

It's just what Glimmer needs right now. She reaches out to Nile and tags--a sleeve, a shirt-tail, anything that avoids direct skin contact because Glimmer is polite. She beams, then gives a pull.

"Let's dance!" Glimmmer shouts to be heard over the music and tugs, trying to drag Nile along with her into the crowd.

aeryn sun | open

[soliterraneous]

🔫 → safehouse

[ Despite being someone who would rather fade into the background, Aeryn stands out in the safehouse. Mostly because she has a full head of hair, honestly, but partially because she doesn't start a single conversation with anyone. Those she's met before, which is a very small number, will get a greeting nod as she passes; those she doesn't get the same, honestly.

For those who pay attention to body language, Aeryn moves like a soldier but without taking up a lot of space. She doesn't seem too upset by the lack of privacy, but then again, she's been here in the safe house for a month already. Clearly, she's used to it.

Anyone caught staring at her will get a raised eyebrow, in response. Yes? it seems to say. Speak up or forever hold your peace. ]

🔫 → redwings | for newbies and more

[ Aeryn actually hasn't been here before, but she's here now, leaning against the bar and frowning softly. ]

Are the new arrivals supposed to show up here? [ She asks someone behind the bar. Of course, this is about when the first set of people in bird-print shirts shows up, walking through the door and looking a little stunned.

If you are new, feel free to come up to Aeryn and ask her what's going on!

Later in the week Aeryn is back, sighing and pushing her hair out of her face before settling into a seat at the same bar. ]

Can I get something strong, please? And not fruity, if at all possible.

🔫 → fight club

[ Jyn brought Aeryn here her first night but she's been coming back about once or twice a week. Fight for five rounds — get her money — leave. She doesn't stick around for drinks or talk with the other fighters, but she can be intercepted before she leaves the building... or followed, if that's your jam.

Narration is terrible at writing fight scenes, so if we can either RNG a winner or find other ways around it, hit me up! ]

🔫 → wildcard

[ Have some other idea where you'd like to run into Aeryn? Leave a CR meme comment or plot with me @ spacewitchery @ plurk.com or spacewitchery#9221. ]

red wings

[sparklequeen]

[ Glimmer isn't used to running around behind the bar--she doesn't really know how to mix drinks. She's just here to make sure the new folks get some food and tea in them, that they get their feet under them and hit the ground with something like stability. So when someone asks about the new arrivals (though she doesn't look like one), she smiles and gives a nod just as the shell-shocked looking newbies start wandering in. ]

You're in the right place! Can I get you something to eat? Tea? Some water? It's going to get a bit hectic here in a few minutes, I think...

kyna medina | original

[evocation]

ball

[Kyna, of course, does the dare. It actually isn't that terrible—climb to the top of a building and hop from one roof to another. With all the climbing she's been doing with Sam, it's not awful. The hop isn't even that bad.

So here she is, ready to distract herself and sure, yeah, she'll keep an ear out for important information. But she's also here to have fun, which is why she's wearing a ridiculous sparkly bodysuit that catches the colorful lights. She's convinced someone to dab metallic shadow on her eyes, too.

And then she just wanders, looking for trouble. It doesn't take her long to get nice and tipsy, which turns her into more of a menace. She grabs a pot of UV makeup, smearing patterns and shapes over the skin of anyone who will stand still. She explores the installations, and when she finds out one of the rooms requires pairs, she immediately reaches for the person behind her with a pair up with me! And, of course, she finds the music, asking anyone who will listen to dance with her.]

red wings

[Kyna splits her time at Red Wings, too. The problem is, she's hungover for a good chunk of the week, sunglasses shoved firmly on her face, a mug of tea always in one hand. It's not coffee, tragically, but it'll have to do.

She plants herself near at a table near the front door to scope out the new arrivals. Considering how out of it she is, though, she's not really paying attention when someone enters, so they might not be new at all.]

Heyyy, new kid, right?

red wings wildcard.

[rehandle]

[ It's approximately day three of her what must be truly hard-earned hangover when Stephen emerges from the back one day, freshly arrived to work, with not one but two steaming reusable mugs. One of them he holds out to her, a knowing smirk on his face. The contents are most definitely not tea.

It pays to live with a caffeine addict who once had free rein of the city. ]

joe | open

[malta]

24 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 —

[ joe was invited, which is for the best because if he had to do something shakespearean, he wouldn't have bothered. it's only nicky's hand taking his (everyone is glowing, who cares!) that keeps him from rolling his eyes and walking out when he realizes he's hearing romeo and juliet.

catch joe defacing a copy of shakespeare's othello or king lear muttering to himself in a language that the implant can't seem to translate, melodic and sharp in equal measure as if the amalgam of two disparate languages, annoyed. sure these are probably priceless heirlooms as far from their publication as joe was from the actual 16th century back home, but it's clear he doesn't have much respect for the deeply eurocentric writing.

he's lived through the 70s (at least 10 versions of them), so a little psychotropics among friends doesn't bother him, wide smile coming easily as he enthusiastically paints a beautifully sultry and yet blessedly tasteful portrait of nicky reclined in a bed of pillows and silks surrounded by candles whilst joe's own shahrazad kneels at his feet and tells him story after story. ]

Perfect.

[ another painting shows a beautiful woman rising from the sea, dark hair twisted through with silken kelp, a dress of violent waves, botticelli would piss himself if this vengeful venus was born from the ocean. it's violent and terrifying and heartbreakingly sad and joe obviously loves the woman. ]

𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 —

[ when he is not painting or talking shit about shakespeare like the man personally owes joe money (he does, he did), joe borrows a guitar and fucks around for a while. he can't sing to save his life but he plays a beautiful flamenco.

or he's holding court telling stories, shahrazad was not a stretch of a comparison, and he has a lot of stories to tell.

romance: ] I was felled by his beauty across the field of battle, eyes like the ocean I wanted to drown in. [ a beat. ] He did drown me once.

[ historical: ] We found him in Hamedān, no bigger than a teddy bear.

[ comedic: ] It was the first time we'd been to the New World, there aren't raccoons anywhere else, you know. Quỳnh named all of them Nicolò, I'm surprised they aren't presently known as Nicolòs.

[ comedic history: ] The next thing we know we get a letter and he's found himself in Liechtenstein!

𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥 —

( go where your heart takes you or hit me up on disco @ baleinette#3692 yolo )

[genova]

[ joe is in his element more than nicky, who takes it upon himself to ensure that the two of them are never without empty glasses, alternating alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. it gives him something to do, a purpose and an excuse every now and again not to engage with anyone —and each time, he returns to joe, depositing a drink. sometimes he just listens. after some particularly pointed words from joe against shakespeare, he chimes in: ]

You need to let go of your grudge against him.

Ellie | Open

[notathreat]

► 24 Hour Party People

[Turns out that having a marketable music career in the Aerie and contributing to not-quite-legal murals in the dead of night has the side effect of being invited to underground parties hosted by the rich and divergent. She's partially here because Glimmer was really into the idea of going, but faced with the choice between dancing and drinking and psychotropic drugs and painting, Ellie's clear on what she wants.

Upon entry she's been pulled aside, her grey hoodie and a ballcap painted up and over with glow in the dark geometric designs, bright neon blue and gold. She's pulled a cloth mask over her face to avoid breathing in too many of the paint fumes she's working with, and it's patterned with more of the same marks. Her hands are splattered and glowing brightly with more of the paint, and it looks like she tried to butcher some kind of neon animal, by all the drips and spray patterns.

Though she's much better with the more traditional methods of painting, the street art style is plenty of fun to work with, and she's in the middle of creating a giant floating space nebula over a section of wall.]

Hand me that color?

[She asks over her shoulder, holding out one hand.]

Actually, can I borrow your hands for a sec?


► Red Wings

Ah, Jesus, Jimothy.

[Ellie breathes it out with a pained expression as the newcomers come filing in, wearing these ungodly horrible bird shirts, her comment completely audible.]

As if the poor bastards haven't been through enough, you had to dress them like Sam?


► Wildcard

(Want something different? I'm happy to write custom starters or bounce off whatever you throw at me! HMU on plurk or the CR Meme to hash out ideas, or just jump in.)

►red wings

[realists]

Oh don't say that in front of me, [ jyn says with a moan, pointing an accusatory fork at ellie. (she needs to use the fork for something, since she isn't using it for her food, might as well use it for empty threats.

she looks real threatening with a shirley temple in the other hand, sure. the height of threatening.) ]

Now I'm going to call him that.

[ which is a problemo because she's on the talking to jimmy shortlist. ]

[carrera]

𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

[Dick has shown himself capable of the willpower to overcome most drugs given him. That he's found himself unable to find words is rough enough to barely be able to give a sigh but it's only the beginning. When he lingers back from going to this bar they've been directed to, another tells him politely but firmly to go.

And he does.

Before he can even make himself stop to think about it, he's walking through the door. After ordering himself a drink, a water with a whiskey neat that he has yet to touch, he settles at a table by the door, his back to the wall. Not even trying to be circumspect about listening to the conversations around him.]

𝚂𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

[Logically it makes sense. If they've been snuck into a new world then working out the documentation only makes sense. It makes less sense not to arrange the paperwork before you dump your victims into a new city but then when has any government ever made sense?

After spending some time trying to find a way out of the safehouse, and being less than thrilled with the results of that, Dick tries to settle into this place until whatever powers that be spring them, or he finds a way out.

Going with the flow, he claims a bed near the wall, shifting it to a corner where he's got a place to put his back to the wall, keep himself out of the way but give him a view where he can see a large portion of the room.

Throughout the days they're locked in there, he tries to make the best of his time, even if he's still trying to find ways to prove to himself this is real and not some kind of mental state caused by drugs or space demons or something else new and horrific.

There's times he'll spend time working on a meal, usually making enough to share with anyone around. Someone has to try and take care of the others while they're prisoners for their own good, using the time to try and talk with others and see what he might learn.

Not that he's finding many answers. Keeping himself busy often working out in a corner of the room, using exposed pipework for pull ups, shadow boxing, anything he can do to keep himself focused.

Not always focused enough though as he realizes someone is moving close to him and he turns suddenly, moving on instinct instead of thinking it through, a length of pipe in his hand that he's scavenged moving suddenly towards the person before he stops himself.]

Sorry. I... Reflex reaction.

Red Wings

[sparklequeen]

[ Dick may be trying to go unnoticed, but Glimmer is hanging around Red Wings specifically to notice people. Especially the new arrivals who stand out in their bird-print shirts and shaved heads. So while she's bustling around greeting others, the one lurking in the corner and brooding (?) catches her eye. He has a drink, it seems, so she doesn't bother with tea for him, but she slides into the seat across from Dick with a bottle of beer in hand (it's cold, moisture condensing in the sticky New Amsterdam heat). ]

I'm guessing you're new. If you have questions, I'll do my best to answer them.

[ The urge to offer a hand is fought back--she's gotten used to not offering touch to any of the Displaced since she arrived. ]

I'm Glimmer.

joseph kavinsky ( the raven cycle )

[dreamkillers]

( safehouse )

[ to put it probably more kindly than he deserves, kavinsky has been a nightmare to live with these first couple of days, clearly going through some kind of withdrawal and vicious for it, snapping like a cornered feral cat any time someone so much as looks at him. now, though, three days in and with his fury simmering instead of blazing through him, too exhausted, too much of a fucking mess to sustain it, he's in the kitchen perched at the counter.

he's clean, at least, though he bears a passing resemblance to an attractive skeleton, the clothing he was given far too big on his skinny frame and eyes sleepless and bruised in his face. there's a cup with what's clearly alcohol in it in front of him, but he hasn't finished it; he looks nauseous and cold, expression flat and exhausted as he trembles.

if anyone makes the mistake of coming too near him, his glance flicks toward them, sharp despite the misery surrounding him, skinny fingers nudging his glass away from himself and toward the other person. no need to waste it in this case. it's shit booze, but it's booze. ]

How much longer are we stuck in this shithole?

( post- 11 september )
24-hr party people

[ once he'd been allowed to leave the safehouse, he'd been gone. and given his background, the life he'd come from, he'd been quick to hear the rumors, and quicker still to go after one of those invitations. there's some kind of politics bullshit involved, but he doesn't give a fuck about that any more than he gives a fuck about anything or anyone else here. it's a party, and if it's a party worth attending, there'll be drugs and liquor, there'll be money, and there'll be dirty fuckers with a fetish for teenage boys.

so he'd done what he'd needed to do, and.. well, you know. here he is. and here is barely-dressed, covered in bright body paint, a glass dangling from his fingers and expression more amiable than it's been the entire week he's been here up until this point. he's pleasantly fucked up, his natural state of being, and he can be found throughout the installation at various times, taking full advantage of everything on offer.

maybe he drops right into someone's lap, eyes wide and dark and smile sharp. possibly he's in one of the galleries, surrounded by chaos and with a paintbrush in one hand and a switchblade in the other. ] Come on, baby, we're making art.

wildcard

[ he's a disaster, so please feel free to assume he can be found checking out fight clubs, making connections in bars, chatting with people in brothels, and high whenever he can manage to be. he seems to have zero self-preservation. hmu (metamorphmagus) if you want a specific starter, or feel free to touch his cr meme comment.

safehouse

[baum]

[ This guy stinks of booze. They've been here for long enough that John has the impression that he always stinks of booze. He shakes his head at the glass pushed towards him. ]

I'm seventeen, [ he says, before it occurs to him that tall dark and skinny doesn't look much older. If he's older at all. John frowns, and nudges it back. ] All yours. And I don't know. We're shadows till they get our IDs set up. Just give it time.

[ It's like he's talking to himself, two years back. He'd had no patience then, either, and no genuine willingness to pretend at it. That's the thing about your whole world changing in one day; when you've done it before, it's not that crazy. And you learn, because you basically have to.

The particular brand of meat in the fridge, though. He's less chill about that. ]

You seen anything in here that even smells like turkey? [ He says, looking up at Kavinsky again. ]

amos burton | ota

[baltimores]

> red wings

[ So, he's maybe not totally sure about some things. Like how closely he wants to be associated with the Displaced, considering the whole cults thing that's going on. Or the part where he knew one of the bar's owners in the Aerie. But it's also a hub for them; a place where people congregate after the latest disaster. Hell, he's already done that. So it wouldn't make any sense to stop going to the establishment altogether.

And it's a bar. That part helps, too.

So Amos will come in on occasion, fresh off whatever bit of physical labour he's found to do for the day, order a beer and set up shop at an empty table just to quietly unwind.

Maybe on one of those days he sees a group of people come in wearing bird-printed shirts and just has to. Narrow his eyes. Stare. Shake his head and go back to his beer. (So this is what it's like, being here when new people arrive.) ]

Well that's unfortunate.

[ Or maybe it's any other day, and he's just happy to have a quiet place that's decidedly nothing like a weird artsy party, content and relaxed enough that he's totally open to whoever else joining him. ]

> task force

[ Part of leaving the Aerie behind - or, rather, trying to leave the person he was in the Aerie behind - is distancing himself from the whole. Secret police thing. Which is easier said than done, considering he still has a lifetime's worth of training, all of it useful enough that he's not about to let it go to waste.

Amos is inclined to keep a low profile to begin with, but he hadn't bothered with a mask during most of his time as a Shrike, so that kinda sucks now. He can usually tell if he's being watched, even if he's really just going about his business around town.

Or when someone else is being watched, for that matter. Regardless of whether he knows them or not, it feels like a courtesy to at least fall in step beside them and casually, quietly check in. ]

You know you're being followed, right?

> fight club

[ Okay. So. Amos is doing a lot better, he thinks. That fog he'd simultaneously been wading through and ignoring since the Aerie is lifting; he's doing some actual work again (even if it's nothing stable yet), and that alone has helped people sometimes. It's like he's got his head back on straight.

Or getting there. It's a work in progress.

And having somewhere to beat the shit out of people (or get the shit beat out of him, whatever, fair fight's a fair fight) is just fucking nice. Lets him find a release in a good environment. Keeps him check before lapsing into anything stupid.

He's just exiting the ring, lazily stretching his neck from side to side, looking at least a little worse for the wear. His lip's split. A black eye might already be forming. There's an almost imperceptible limp to his step, but maybe that's just because it's so fresh.

And he looks happy. Completely at peace. Amos maybe catches someone looking in his direction and nods at them, a small, contented smile on his face. ]

You going in the ring later?

> wildcard

[ cr meme | arii#6412 on discord | cadiai | or whatever you so happen to feel like! ]

task force

[myfavoritemurder]

By you, now.

[She retorts, turning to give him a quick glance. She's just wandering, not heading anywhere special today, bag slung over her shoulder as usual. She takes a quick look around their surroundings, not immediately spotting anyone - but she knows that that doesn't mean much.]

If they're not brave enough to confront me, then they can watch all they want.

John Connor | open!

[baum]

i. RED WINGS

---

[ A bar. That's the big secret of where they were going, a bar? John goes in with the crowd, trying not to stand out among them. It's no easy task. Every newbie has their colors marked with the same sad little buzzcut hairstyle, and a god damned actual bird shirt.

His is a falcon print. This is so stupid.

He keeps his head down, and heads for a table. His eyes quickly scan the room as he moves, checking for other exits. Checking, too, for anyone who's watching them too closely. He sits, and he puts his head down, bringing his fist up to cushion his face and keep it half-hidden from the crowd.

You never know. Can't be too careful. If anyone he knows is here, anyone at all, they'll look for him.

But he'll see them first. His eyes travel over the crowd, skimming across them. Everyone who comes in, everyone who passes by his table. So far, ther's no familiar faces.

Unfortunately.

Anyone who stops at his table is treated to a pair of hazel eyes flicking up at them and then lingering, like he's waiting for the punchline. ]

You looking for me?

[ Because you know what? Let's hope not. ]

ii. SAFEHOUSE

---

[ Everything he's wearing is second hand. He's done that before, and he doesn't like it, but whatever. It's temporary, or at least that's what he keeps reminding himself. John isn't a stranger to the be a shadow phase of setting up a new ID. That said, it still makes him crazy. Of course he wants to get out and explore. He wants to know where the hell he is, wants to understand it the way it's only possible to when you're on the streets.

But he's two years older than the last time he made that mistake, and the stakes have never been so high. He has never been so alone. Almost alone.

So he's here, on the cot he'd picked, with second-hand everything, and he's--

Staring at his toothbrush. Squinting at it, actually, as if he can actually see the molecules of some other guy's decay in the bristles. He's aware of a shadow passing close by, and glances up just quickly enough to make sure it's not a problem. Used to this, yes. Paranoid, yes again.

But he settles, and then nods to the brush. ]

How many times you think they gave this to someone new? Seriously. I think it's even lost a few bristles. See? Right here in the top?

safehouse;

[preseance]

（ gene tries to make every safehouse drop, an' has with only a few exceptions in all the time he's been here. it helps put new minds at ease, havin' someone who ain't ruffled up, an' lord knows it's a skill of his. what's more — he brings meat. real venison, taken from a deer he felled himself when they were first on the loose in the city. you wouldn't get away with it now, given all those protections they're hurryin' to put in place, but he's a red-blooded alabama farmboy an' he is damn tired of eatin' bugs, for all it ain't the worst of what he's had.

still, it's one'a them things he don't mind bringin' as a little taste of home an' community, so he has a box of pastries with venison an' the closest possible thing he could find to cream cheese, an' he's got a bag of clothing slung over one shoulder. things from the hospital lost an' found that didn't end up ever findin' its way back to their original owners, but better an' newer than a lot of the things here. he's on his way to the kitchens past the dorms when the young fella speaks up, an' gene pauses on the way an' turns to him, eyebrows raised. ）

Frankly, think that might be my old one.

（ it's said playfully, with the loudest alabama accent this side of a lynyrd skynyrd concert playin' sweet home alabama on repeat for the masses. ）

Nah, but I'll get you a new one if'n you want. Contrary to what you might be thinkin', we ain't all barbarism an' hand-me-downs.

（ as a peace offering, he holds the box out an' tips the lid back so's the kid can take a pastry. ）

Venison, if you're of a mind.

Lance Sweets | OTA

[lifetothefullest]

[Safehouse]

[Lance really hates the safehouse.

Mostly, the reason for that isn't actually the safehouse's fault; what he truly hates is the hoverbike garage, but the safehouse is guilty by association. But that doesn't mean he's super pleased with the safehouse itself either, approving of neither the place itself nor the situation surrounding it.

But he's dealing with all of that for the moment because he wants to help the new arrivals as much as he can, even if he's having an internal struggle about now being complicit in the exact thing he's been fighting with people about. But considering the alternative is to avoid the safehouse entirely, some help is surely better than none, right?

He really isn't sure, but he'll find out. He's temporarily taken up a spot leaning back against a counter in the kitchen, sipping a drink and looking tense, but he's also wearing light up sneakers which kind of ruins any sort of effect. He's clearly not new, since his hair is long enough to be curling, and he's watching any activity going on; if anyone has questions he's willing to answer to whatever extent he can.

Alternatively, if someone is looking stressed out or upset, he'll approach and ask gently--]

Hey, are you okay?


[City]

[He still hasn't gotten quite used to rain again.

For a long time, in Hadriel, everyone had been underground; after that, they'd jumped from planet to planet, and only one planet had really had rain. So this is the first place since he was back at home, that has any sort of normal weather, if this could really be called normal, and he's taking the moment to enjoy it even if he hadn't really meant to be caught in the downpour.

It's over as quickly as it began and he takes a moment to wring out the end of his shirt, laughing a little at the absurd amount of water that comes out of it and glancing over at whoever else has also been caught in the downpour.]

I'm pretty sure we could solve the water rationing problem just by wringing our clothes out over a bucket.

wildcard! I DON'T FOLLOW THE RULES

[evocation]

[Kyna asks Lance if he wants to go to the Ball, and when he says no, she doesn't push. She goes by herself, and when she comes back one night, still a little tipsy, she's got a bag of goodies in tow. To be honest, she's still not sure what to say to help him through everything he's struggling with, but maybe this will cheer him up a little. It's late, but they're both night owls due to their jobs at this point, so she calls out, figuring he'll still be up.]

Hey, Lance?

kisame hoshigaki | ota

[samebito]

I. NEW ARRIVALS

[ Kisame maintains that he isn't the most welcoming of faces. He's a large man — six-foot-five, broadly built, and muscular beneath his (deliberately) loose-fitting clothing — but that isn't his most striking feature. That award goes to his distinctly shark-ish appearance. He has pale blue skin, strange eyes, and gill-like markings on his cheekbones. When he smiles (which is often), he reveals a mouthful of sharp teeth.

No, Kisame isn't the most welcoming of faces. But despite appearances, he maintains a polite and cheerful demeanor. He helps explain the situation to newcomers in both Red Wings and the safehouse. As the days pass, he stops by the latter frequently, and he occasionally strikes up conversations: ]

So, how are you settling in? [ Or, ] These walls aren't very interesting, are they? [ Or, ] Do you have everything you need?

II. THE BALL

[ As it turns out, Kisame's appearance attracts a particular brand of admirer. Namely, those in the body modification community — especially those interested in looking like animals. Combine that with Kisame's tendency to parkour rather than walk down the street, and it's no surprise that he secures himself an invitation.

The party itself is … uncomfortable, to put it mildly. Kisame is a shinobi trained first and foremost in stealth; the press of so many strangers puts him on edge. He could deal with that well enough if it were the only issue. But far more unsettling are the people who view his so-called 'modifications' as their own work of art. Kisame ends up making frequent use of his power, slipping out of notice before seeming to reappear in less populated areas. (Good thing his clothing conceals the glow!)

If he spots someone he recognizes, he forces a smile. ]

This is something else, eh?

[ Otherwise: catch him looking through books, turning down food and drink, or seeming to show up somewhere quiet(ish) with no evidence of entering the area. ]

III. WILDCARD

( got something else in mind? toss it my way or hmu on the cr meme! )

ii!

[insect]

[ parties are far from shinobu's scene. there was never the time nor place for gatherings like this, especially when such a large group of people confined to a place at night would have undoubtedly attracted the attention of demons. no, she's had more important things to attend to and it would have been the case here had kisame not asked her to come with him. it'd be a waste to turn down the opportunity to learn about this place, however, so here she is.

it seems she has not been spared of the party's theme and dress code, however: he'll spot the butterfly mask she's wearing, and her simple button up shirt and ankle length trousers have been decorated with the same theme—the sleeves and pant legs painted to mimic the wings of a butterfly in various shades of purples, blues, and soft pink. she lifts the mask up onto her head when she spots him, returning his forced smile with a wry one of her own. ]

Is it not to your liking? [ it's a tease; she knows he doesn't like crowds. ] And after all the effort they put into this to celebrate you... a pity.

maine | ota

[bloodbathing]

I. NEW RELIGION

[ Maine isn't a religious man. Never has been. Thought it was silly as a kid; thought it was rose-colored bullshit as an adult. But that was before he felt the death of a god. Now, he doesn't know what the fuck he thinks.

So here he is, listening to would-be pastors. His presence isn't a subtle one. He's huge, seven-feet-tall and built like a brick wall. More than that, he was a Snipe in the Aerie — a man who deliberately and repeatedly threw himself into deathmatches and murdered for power. However, he appears set on ignoring any nervous looks sent his way; he's here to listen, not intimidate. He won't object to some company as he does so.

The only worshipers that get a mighty eye-roll are those fawning over body parts. There was nothing holy about those monsters. He figures he'd know: he killed enough of them. He tries to avoid those gatherings, but if he finds his way blocked, he lets out a deep growl to get people moving. ]

II. DOWNTIME

[ When he's not checking out sermons and shrines, Maine can often be found
- traveling to and from the Red Light District, where he works,
- working out at a gym,
- working out outside,
- working out in general,
- and assisting in additional cleanup around the city, especially that which involves manual labor.

Wherever he is, he'll give a nod of greeting to those he recognizes. Those he doesn't recognize will be met with practiced blank-faced stoicism if they approach — but at least he'll give them his attention. ]

III. WILDCARD

( got something else in mind? toss it my way or hmu on the cr meme! )

ii. cleanup?

[hardwearing]

[ Wash manages to catch Maine this morning before he leaves for the day -- the other man has been scarce around the apartment, and Wash still feels like things are delicate between them, like he screwed up and needs to fix it but hasn't figured out how. He often makes dinner and leaves servings for Maine, and they get eaten at least. But they've hardly spoken, especially about things that happened in the Aerie. About Maine's struggles with how it ended.

So just as the larger man is heading out for work Wash calls out, hopping on one foot as he pulls on his other boot. ]

Hey Maine, wait up. I'll come with you today.

kylo, open.

[warfares]

⋫ 𝔹𝔸𝕃𝕃

( he'd never made it to the ball before. though he'd heard enough stories to know that he shouldn't expect something anywhere approaching traditional.

and, really, it doesn't disappoint.

the warehouse is a labyrinth of swaying bodies and strobing lights. music that hits like a wall of sound or vibrates through you like a full-body shiver. he waves off offers of whatever is in those strange containers and decides to do a circuit of the place.

feel free to find him:

a — perusing any of the art displays, but paying special attention to the library like installations, lingering over the books because those sure are actual printed books.
b — parking himself in a corner to try his hand at mural painting, inspired by the theme, because of course, he is.
c — out on the dance floor, either being pulled into a dance or looking trying to make his way to somewhere quieter. seriously, where's the bar in this place?
d — collapsed in a quiet corner somewhere, covered in sweat and glow in the dark paint, listening to whoever's taken over the musician's chair.

and while it's true that all good things must end, he decides to forego the usual options and head down to the riverfront. maybe he'll event catch the sunrise? )

⋫ 𝕎𝕀𝕃𝔻ℂ𝔸ℝ𝔻

( got something else in mind? hit me up via pm or on resurrectionist. )

c

[mahem]

[ you never forget the guy who literally self-immolated in order to have your back with some not-so-friendly guards.

well, maybe she only remembers him midway through pulling him out onto the dance floor, because he does look familiar and it takes her an extra few beats to remember why that is. still, he's familiar for a reason, right? and that's exactly why she's drawn to snatching his wrist with her fingers and tugging him out toward the center of the fun.

truly, she might be stronger than she looks, but it is possible for him to break free if he really doesn't want to be out there — otherwise, she's going to wait until she can swivel back to face him, jumping in place excitedly to the beat of the music. ]

Isn't this great?!

Kai Gracen | Open

[halfbloodhatchling]

A. Visiting the Safehouse

[ Kai hadn't been able to bring himself to meet the new arrivals at Red Wings and he waits until a day has passed, until the drug would have worn off, until he doesn't have to look at them and see himself in a way that's quite so painful.

He figures he can't make much better, but he still shows up with a takeout tray of oat milk milkshakes, flavored with cinnamon, and sets them down in the kitchen.

He glances up at whoever might be around. His hair is still short, showing off pointed ears. ]

B. Wildcard

[ Kai can also be found exploring, working, and picking dumb fights in shady bars. Feel free to also hit me up at snowishness if you want to plan something additional! ]
You want one, it's yours.

A.

[incelligent]

[After his encounter with Jason, Simon has been thoroughly intent on keeping to himself. His start here has been a mixed bag to say the least, with some of his fellow Displaced proving useful, charming, or worthy of further research. However, some were real threats and not to be trusted. In that way, this new world resembles the one he's grown to call home.

Still, during one of his pacing sessions throughout the safehouse, as he is too nervous to stay in one place, he catches sight of another one of the veteran Displaced. Simon makes this assumption based purely on hair length and... Well, the other man's clothes look less worn. He ducks behind the frame of a bunk bed, though words slip out eventually when he catches sight of Kai's ears.]

Whoaaa.

[Simon had just assumed that everyone here would be human, just like the train only contained humans and denizens, passengers and nulls, people who should have been treated as such and toys who were as good as nothing. Now it occurs to him that there may perhaps be other creatures galavanting around, like the ones in the many fantastical books he's read.]

Pointy.

[Cool???]

shinobu kocho | ota

[insect]

new arrivals: red wings/safe house.

[ she'd come with the last batch of newcomers, but shinobu had made it a point to be here for the new arrivals in hopes of providing a better understanding of their situation than she had been given previously. she focuses on helping to flush the drug out of their systems with whatever non-alcoholic drinks she could get; the water rationing means she needs to get a little creative, but she's able to start juicing with the abundance of plant life. it's easier to replenish nutrients even with the loss of appetite, at least until they're able to get a proper meal in.

she'll be handing out glasses and checking on each newcomer's condition, for the first day, doing her best to answer whatever questions they may have. throughout the next few days, she'll be showing up at the safe house often, checking in on those who need it and replenishing the kitchen. and sometimes, if someone's lucky, they might catch her baking at odd hours of the night. ]

Oh— [ she looks up from the counter, hands covered with flour. ] Hello. Can't sleep?

in and around.

[ outside of the safe house, shinobu can be found:
a) at the hospital volunteering.
b) traveling to and from sunpeak gardens, occasionally getting her hands dirty with gardening.
c) and more recently, hanging out at the bar in the fight club. notably, she doesn't actually participate in any fights, preferring to observe, but she does offer medical assistance should anyone come out of the ring looking worse for wear. ]

wildcard.

[ hit me with anything or ping me on plurk at wooloos if you wanna plot something out! ]