TEST DRIVE MEME #015

[larkers]

> TEST DRIVE MEME #015

Welcome to the Meadowlark test drive meme! After waking up in strange and rather worrisome conditions, characters will need to begin to live their lives in this new world. All TDM threads take place after the arrival process, so please assume that the initial adjustment period has passed – in which the characters were dropped off behind a bar run by previous arrivals who then direct them to live in a safehouse for four days before hitting the streets. Now it's time to see the bright sights and sounds that New Amsterdam – and beyond – has to offer.

All Meadowlark test drive memes will not be game canon because of the nature of our arrival logs. Please feel free to carry on relationships that make sense, but please keep in mind that the TDM may not reflect current circumstances in game.

Applications open every month on the 1st of the month at midnight UTC (00:00).

As a note, all of Meadowlark's gamebase is in an event. We're planning on having all incoming characters introduced separate and outside of the AU, but we'll ask incoming players what their preference is during the acceptance period.

NOTE: The PCs have chosen to call themselves "the Displaced," and that's become the common parlance to refer to them.

All applicants can use threads from the TDM for their samples.

> SETTLING IN

There is very little that can smooth over the experience of your arrival in this world. Coming to your senses in a van, drugged and restrained, only to be carefully helped out by the unknown guards and nurses and then abandoned in an alleyway of a local sports bar by the name of Red Wings. What comes next is relatively straightforward: you're found by the employees at the bar, all of whom were once left in a similar situation to this one. You're brought down to a safehouse across town that's hidden underneath a soundproofed garage that's been kitted out for training purposes. You'll learn that you aren't among the first that this has happened to here. There are others not from this world who have experienced the same, with no recollection of how they came here. Like you, they have few answers about what's happened to them. Maybe this knowledge brings you a growing sense of futility, or perhaps it inspires a deeper determination in you. But even as you begin to think on what to do next, life has to go on.

All of the new arrivals will be given a fake ID and a background that will lend them access to entry-level jobs. It may be overwhelming, but their fellow Displaced have found their footing enough to be able to help the newcomers. Two Morningstar agents by the names of Gaby and El will be around to take care of world integration and IDs – the rest will fall to the Displaced who arrived before. It would take at least a month's wages to put down a deposit on even the smallest apartment in the city, so everyone has a grace period before they have to leave the safehouse – and then some, depending on the kindness of who's running the show.

Gaby and El will also make their purpose clear if asked: they are a part of Morningstar, a group dedicated to fighting corruption, tearing the capitalist oligarchy down to nothing, and trying to help make a better world. It will be made expressly clear that this entire arrangement to get the Displaced situated in the world is meant to be kept a secret, and that especially includes Morningstar's assistance. Letting the world know about their involvement could cause big problems.

> EXPLORE THE CHANGES
Despite the lack of answers about why you're here, your fellow Displaced will be able to give you a rundown of the changes they've recognized in each other. Anyone who had powers before will find them gone. Anyone who was once an AI or in a completely artificial body will find that their current body is now fully human. Those with cybernetics will find that they've remained mostly untouched, though any primitive ones may be replaced with temporary ones that are improvements on the previous models.

◉ NEW POWERS. In the place of any powers that were lost, there is now a new power. These abilities are unique to each of the Displaced and seem to update over a certain period of time, with the changes appearing thanks to critical emotional events. One thing that's apparent is that the power seems to be linked to the Displaced individual's personality or life before this one, shaped according to who they happen to be. When this power appears, their chest glows with a blue light that shines from their sternum, and it can be triggered by anything: natural inclination or a moment of great stress. If someone's out in public when this happens, they might want to duck under cover lest the blue glow from their chest and the unusual power's appearance draws unwanted attention.

◉ EMPATHY BOND. No matter the circumstances or the conditions, every skin-to-skin touch of the Displaced triggers this empathy bond. Whether they touch hands, brush cheeks, or knock into one another on accident, they'll be met with the emotions of the person they've touched. Every instance of skin-to-skin contact will trigger an immediate empathic bond, letting you feel the other person's emotions and vise versa. While there's nothing that can be done to completely prevent this, someone can either decide to hold on and continue sharing that level of emotional intimacy, or let go and end the shockingly vulnerable exchange. If someone is particularly tactile but not fond of sharing their emotions, they might want to invest in a fashionable pair of gloves.

◉ MEMORY SHARE. In the past year, the Displaced unlocked the ability to share memories similarly to how they can share emotions. While unknown at first, the Displaced soon learned that they could share a memory with each other the same way they could share emotions. All they need to do is focus on a memory and touch the skin of their fellow Displaced, and then they could pass this experience along. These memories are shared through the eyes of the giver, granting the receiver a unique insight into the thoughts, feelings, and sensations during a specific moment in their life.

◉ DREAM SHARING. Once one, two, or five Displaced fall asleep, they may be able to find each other in their dreams. These dreams lead to the dreamers themselves feeling lucid and somewhat in control of their surroundings—though the control itself is ultimately dependent on the dreamer and how well they come around to understanding what's going on. Dream logic applies with the flow of time, but no one is able to spend their entire lives there. Lost powers are still gone for any of the Displaced, but they can use their dreams to practice any new ability that they've received. Memory shares and empathy bonds are just as possible within these shared dream states—if anyone doubts that another Displaced is really there, they can test the empathy bond to see if it activates.

◉ POWER SHARES AND UNIONS. The Displaced can share something of themselves with another Displaced by offering them an object that comes out of their chest. This object is meant to be symbolic of the person it comes from and significant to them in some way. When someone else takes hold of this object, they will get a sense of the owner's essence, along with temporary access to their in-game ability. Only when they give the item back do they give up the power in question. In addition, the Displaced are able to act in unison and create a fusion of their powers, making it so they can fight someone else with them at once. This ability is there from day one, but the power's ability will only ever present at its current stage.

> THE NETWORK
When the Displaced first showed up, Morningstar set up a private network for all of the Displaced to use in order to communicate. Most of the veteran Displaced are old hands at using the implant now, and will be happy to provide any necessary information on how to utilize this new tool and understand its application in daily life.

Early on, every newcomer receives access to the encrypted network, only available to you and the others like you, making contact between you easy and safe. Familiarize yourself with this network and dig in. Perhaps you're hoping to find some bigger answers, ask about the current nail polish trends in New Amsterdam, or want to play a game of "hot or not" among the Displaced.

◉ IDENTIFICATION. Everyone who gets set up with an ID gets access to Morningstar's network. In order to ensure that none of the Displaced stand out like sore thumbs, Morningstar's agents El and Gaby ensure that everyone has a name that makes it so they fit in among society. All usernames are thusly formed as firstname.lastname, with some room for creativity (Ziggy Stardust has now been among the Displaced twice).

◉ PRIVATE COMMUNICATION. There are private, one-on-one modes of communication available as well, though without the security of Morningstar's encryptions, they're much less safe. You can make calls, send texts, make videos, and even interact with others in a VR simulation—however, it's made very clear that the government has a means of tracking this communication. Big brother is always watching.

> RESOLUTION DAY FESTIVAL

The day of April 26th is known to all United Nations citizens: it's Resolution Day. To everyone around the world, it was originally thought of as the day that the burgeoning United Nations finally rescued humanity by eradicating the last known AI lifeforms. This act took place in 2101. However, recent circumstances have revealed that the United Nations had lied about this fact. For over four hundred years, they kept the AI Judas locked away in their military headquarters in New Beijing. During his enslavement, Judas was forced to create technology to serve the UN's purposes, helping turn their soldiers into a hivemind-like group that would always fall into line.

The Displaced know that there are more AI in the world. El, the Morningstar agent who helps create everyone's IDs, is one of them. This is a secret hidden away from the rest of Morningstar due to the massive anti-AI sentiments. The other is Cassius, a space exploration AI who brought chaos to the Displaced before switching sides to become their ally. None of this is known to the world at large.

Of course, El is linked to the war itself. El was formerly known as Elysian, the AI who accidentally kicked off the six-year-long Xelkoven War between humans and AI. Once a security unit, Elysian killed 50 households full of people as ze believed them all to be a threat. The war was ultimately named after the largest artificial intelligence distributor at the time: Xelkov. Ultimately, a billion humans died in the war, and there was the very real risk that the rest of humanity could have followed if they hadn't advised a method to put the AI down for good. Even though humanity lived on, artificial intelligence did not – save for the three aforementioned AI.

With all this coming out, people in this world aren't psyched to celebrate Resolution Day for the reasons they had been taught growing up. But they're still interested in a day to celebrate each other and humanity's survival.

The citywide celebration of Resolution Day starts early and finishes very late, so whether you choose to join in the fun, learn more about the history of the festival, or take advantage of the revelry for other, more nefarious goals, you'll have plenty of time. As the festival sprawls wildly throughout the streets of New Amsterdam, it gives even the most desolate parts of the city new life with bright lights, noise, and plenty of food. Most businesses are closed for the day, but not all of them—if you've gotten yourself a restaurant, street cleaning, or corporate PR job, you might find yourself stuck on a double shift. Better snatch what small moments of enjoyment you can!

> ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES
Anything you'd think would be at a festival in the year 2512 is definitely at this festival. Food, games, dancing, alcohol, free stuff? It's all there for your enjoyment. While the city streets will be full of people, this isn't a bad day to try networking. Want to get a new job or find a way to pry some information out of someone when they're least likely to remember you? Try to butter them up—or use the powers you've been granted to get your way. If anything goes badly, at least you can slip back into the crowd.

◉ GAMES. Care to play a game? All attendees can play for free. Some games —like the hoverblade racing, the augmented reality fightboxes, and the street-wide bouts of laser tag—require a partner or a competitor, so you better hope someone's willing to do you a solid or bring out your competitive side. For anyone who's interested in something a little less hands-on, all of the city's biggest VR arcades will have setups with all the latest games. Hoping to get noticed for your gaming talent? This might not be the day to try to stand out, but anyone's down to try.

◉ FOOD TRUCKS. It's time to try the delicacies of New Amsterdam. Hundreds of food trucks have turned out today in droves with high hopes that they'll come away turning a profit. Down for some Mexi-German fusion? Or perhaps you're hoping that pad thai still tastes the same with grasshoppers? Share your food – or give away whatever you don't like. Food trucks are the hub of activity, and the busiest ones might be worth the time, but you'll be standing in line for a while.

◉ NETWORKING. There are other opportunities with the city being flooded with festival-goers. Whether someone is on a mission to try to test the current sentiments toward Morningstar or simply wants to charm some corporate execs, this might be the time to get it done. Whatever your cover story is, make it good. Whether you claim you're hoping to pitch an idea for some new tech or are more interested in seducing – or squeezing – some information out of them, following them into the next bar or karaoke booth may give you the perfect chance. But you might want a lookout to watch your back, a co-conspirator to keep them plied with drinks, or maybe you'll need a voice of reason to stop you from squeezing too hard. Discretion is the name of the game. Everyone can agree upon that.


> HISTORY LESSONS
Aside from your typical booths of free samples, charitable causes, volunteer applications, and white chocolate-covered beetles, you'll find an opportunity to learn about Resolution Day’s history. There are various stands available where—thanks to the augmented reality application of your neural implant—you can view videos about the origins of the festival and the reasons for celebrating. If you haven't done your initial search yourself, you'll be able to buff up on it here. These booths tell the United Nations' version of the history with zero reminders about what came out about Judas.

◉ VR SIMULATIONS. If you'd like to feel like a hero, the UNA are running several virtual reality simulations where you can be taken to the battlefield to fight alongside fellow soldiers, working to bring the outwardly robotic AI to submission. The virtual reality simulation interacts with your neural implant to give you the most realistic experience possible. If you don't ground yourself enough, you'll be certain that the sights, sounds, and smells around you are real as you march in formation toward the brutality waiting up ahead. Feel free to team up with a partner on a side mission, or maybe try to keep someone from plugging in for what could be a traumatic experience. Eerie, heart-wrenching music plays when you die, but is promptly followed by the image of several corporate logos reminding you that they sponsored this day and this event.

◉ SYMPATHIZERS. If you're uncomfortable with the concept of eradicating all AI, no one will understand why. AI sympathizers are not present among the native population. Everyone in this world has been raised with the understanding that AI only wanted to destroy humanity, and that everyone is lucky to be alive in spite of it. They have a deeply ingrained fear, and anyone claiming to formerly be an AI or android won't receive a very friendly response. Even if they know the UN used Judas for centuries, it doesn't mean they're any less afraid of artificial intelligence: they've been raised to believe that all artificial intelligence was out to eradicate humanity.

> CRIMINAL ACTIVITY

Traveling down from the hectic main city streets reveals a different side from the gloss and promise of New Amsterdam. Economic disparity runs rampant throughout the city, and many people are pushed to desperation, looking to find other ways to make ends meet. In the darker shadows, many illegal activities thrive, out of view of the authorities—or perhaps known and supported by corrupt individuals. Maybe you're out exploring, completing a task for Morningstar, or working a job in the place you excel. Whatever brought you to the rougher parts of town, you may want to watch your step, or else find the city eating you as it has so many others.

> ORGANIZED CRIME
Organized crime still has a strong foothold in the world, with gangs and more established families working with drugs, weapons, property, and black market cybernetics, to name a few. These organizations are sprawling units that regularly recruit new members into their ranks, so long as they can prove themselves by passing the intensive hazing. While there are two main mob entities in New Amsterdam—the Riverstone Mob and the Petrov Family—there are a handful of gangs that otherwise roam the streets. Some are loosely sponsored by the mob, while others are fledgling groups trying to gain clout. More than anything, these groups know they don't have the power of the corporations or government, and do everything to seize more power when they can.

◉ JOINING UP. Catching the eye of the mob is difficult, but not impossible. Getting into the larger gangs is less difficult, but they're still wary of anyone who doesn't know the ins and outs of how to duck surveillance, traffic drugs and supplies, and intimidate people without catching flack from the NAPD. The best way to start getting attention is through their clubs, casinos, and illegal gambling dens. Getting inside isn't always easy: it might take a few weeks of legwork to get an invite, but someone could try to strongarm their way inside or use some chicanery to make it a smoother endeavor.

◉ ESCAPE PLAN. Whether you went in to cause trouble or accidentally caused it by breathing the wrong way, it's good to have an escape plan in place. Does that mean fighting all the goons available? Maybe. What about stealing a hover bike and getting away? The good news is that hover bikes can fit where hover cars can't.If you've got the skills, you'll be able to weave through the chaos of the city and make a clean getaway. Just don't let the chase run for too long, or you'll have law enforcement on your ass as well.

> FIGHT CLUB

No matter the occasion outside, New Amsterdam's fight club events are held every evening. The bouncers at the door don't have too many scruples on who they let inside. All they care about is whether someone has the money to pay the cover charge.

The interior of the fight club reveals the sophistication of a business that's used to uprooting itself regularly. All the fights take place in a large cage in the center, and you remain on your feet while you enjoy the show. There is a special VIP section if you've been lucky enough to receive an invite or bribe your way in – just keep in mind that these invites are scarce, and you will have to have done something spectacular to earn the attention from someone high up the food chain. Regardless of where you end up, there is one rule: what happens in the fight club stays in the fight club. This tenant is law, and everyone's heard stories of the different (and sometimes extreme) lengths that have been taken to maintain it.

◉ FIGHT. It's time to sign up and test your chops against other fighters. Many of the fighters boast illegal cybernetic enhancements, so it would be a really good idea to have someone on hand who knows some first aid. Fights can either happen in duos or in one-on-ones depending on the signups for the evening.

◉ RINGSIDE CHAT. You might just want to enjoy the show, or use the opportunity to grill the bartenders for information. Just be careful not to make a fool of yourself. Asking too many questions might catch the wrong kind of attention – the kind that might find you being thrown into the ring, whether you wanted to be there or not. For all the blood spilled, these fight clubs thrive on discretion, so whatever you do, try to keep it quiet.

> A LIFE OF CHAOS

Life in New Amsterdam was once all festivals and people avoiding association with organized crime. Life in New Amsterdam these days is full of drama, citywide disturbances, and everything else that might be expected of an action film in progress. While there aren't many answers for what's happened to the Displaced, there is enough chaos going around that it seems like it may be connected to their arrivals.

The worst part is that New Amsterdam seems to struggle. Rather than being an anonymous backdrop to those action films, New Amsterdam is a bustling city full of life that never asked to be at the heart of this. When trouble hits, most repairs and restorations focus on helping those with money, while others are left forgotten living in tents and hoping for a helping hand. Recent circumstances have called for improvements in this area—there is more charitable work than ever before in New Amsterdam—but it's still a trying time.

Where the Displaced stand in all of this varies, but it's hard to ignore a city in trouble.

◉ DISPLACED VERSUS DISPLACED. Whether it's by manipulation of an outside force or through inhaling weird monster gas, sometimes the Displaced are at odds with one another. When some of these few heroes are fighting, it means that the city can be left in even greater danger. Other times, the Displaced might not be able to control themselves. Feeling a sudden surge of vengeance and hoping to follow through on it? That monster gas might be the cause. Want to finish out a nasty deal to get something back important? The monster gas won't be an excuse, but maybe someone can pretend it was. Life as a Displaced is wild sometimes.

◉ MONSTERS. As for unconventional threats, there are the monsters. These creatures first turned up in giant form when the first batch of Displaced arrived, stomping all over New Amsterdam. The less unique version of the monsters are around 400m high, have lizard-like features, and tend to show up by tearing down a portion of New Amsterdam's city wall And that's the less unique version. More unique monsters vary in size and make, seeming to be an amalgamation of a number of different creatures. Half-snake, half-dog? Seems odd, but it happens. Hell, we even have a bestiary of some of what can be found. The one consistent feature of all these monsters is they all have golden irises. Suffice to say that running into these creatures could be a problem.

◉ SIMULATION. There aren't many AI left in the world, but the most notorious of them – Judas – definitely has an axe to grind. Once the leader of the AI effort as they sought to destroy humanity after countless AI were wiped out for humanity's "protection," Judas is now well aware that he's only one of three left in the world. Getting a little payback against people is only fair, isn't it? His favorite means was via a simulation, dragging people into a post-apocalyptic hellscape where humanity was forced to live underground and live out repetitive scenarios where they had no choice but to play along or feel like they couldn't survive. This stimulation interacts with the VR technology built into the neural implants, stimulating adrenaline and fear exactly when Judas wants it to do just that. Why? Oh, torture. Why not? Oddly enough, Judas doesn't create any facsimiles of other AI. He takes full ownership of what he puts people through once he takes control. Sure, Judas is a little screwy but after 400 years of captivity, no one can really blame him, can they?

◉ LEAD A REVOLUTION. Just because a world has free health care doesn't mean it's working for all of its citizens. Thanks to a variety of screwed up things over half a millenia ago, this world ended up permanently corrupt. Corporations act as training grounds for political positions, and while nobility is a thing of the past, wealthy families continue on thanks to the oligarchical stronghold that controls the world. Time to change some things up. Either by working with Morningstar or alone because of an urge to create some chaos, this world is ripe for change. Are you going to be the one to bring it about?

> GO NUTS

Feel free to branch out and explore! Visit a doctor about some advanced cybernetics. Sneak through the city checkpoints and set out into the wilderness. Try to hop on a train bound for one of the world's five spaceports to see one of the colonies—though bear in mind the cost and difficulty of one of these joy rides. Experiment with some insect based versions of your favorite recipes. Perhaps you'd prefer to engage in some illegal street racing, spend some time getting used to the technology, or try to become a social media celebrity. Use the SETTING for inspiration and choose your own adventure!

> NAVIGATION

Comments

aeryn sun | farscape | c/p'd from the prior tdm

[soliterraneous]

→ a. settling in

[ Aeryn has been trying to wrap her head around this. All of it. Being on this planet? Being human especially, which feels...different. Warmer, for one thing; she keeps noticing that she's sweating but none of the other effects of heat sickness, so. That's.

It's weird, is what it is.

She's in the kitchen in the safehouse, standing next to the sink, with a glass of water between her hands. When someone comes in through the door, she takes a sip before clearing her throat. ] Are you from here?

[ A beat, and then. ] Not this city, or this...time, but this planet? Erp?

Have you always been human is my question.

[ Weird ask, but. ]

→ b. network | username: aeryn.sun

I'm looking for combatants. People who are used to fighting. For sparring.

[ Short, sweet, and to the point. ]

→ c. Food trucks

[ Someone is completely nonplussed by the idea of eating bugs, and it's this brunette right here. She does ask the food truck vendors a million questions about seasonings and ingredients and savory versus sweet versus umami (in not so many words) and tries every single spice, every sauce available. ]

That one's good, [ she says over the shoulder of someone who's clearly been vacillating between trucks, pointing with a pair of chopsticks. ] If you like things that are sweet.

→ d. fight club

[ How Aeryn finds out about the underground fight club is unclear, but what is? She's wiping the floor with her competitor. She doesn't even seem concerned about it, taking the first one against her down in a few moves, and the second in five moves more than that. One more fight and she's done for the night, unwilling to push things too far in her unfamiliar and new limitations, but training has gotten her far and she'll stay around to have some water, a drink, and walk back outside alone.

She's probably gonna get jumped. ]

→ e. wildcard

[ come at me with a starter of your own! feel free to have her be anywhere; Aeryn will explore. ]

b (@rey.solo)

[forcevisions]

Powers or no powers?

a

[deadthenred]

[ That sure is a question. ]

The last couple times I checked.

[ She doesn't look like an alien, but that doesn't mean anything here.

He is just going to go ahead and grab the scotch he knows is hidden behind at the back of one of these cabinets. ]

d.

[unmoor]

[ Indeed there was someone waiting for her to exit the bar, but they're gone now.

The only person left is a man dressed in black with his other hand shoved in the pocket of his coat. When he sees Aeryn come out, he looks up from his spot where he was casually leaning against the wall as if it was quite ordinary to hang out in suspicious alleys. He smiles at her like he'd seen a friend, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. ]

Rather impressive, aren't you?

Eames | Inception

[withimagination]

[(cw: blood, violence)]

a. luck be a lady tonight

[Welp, Eames can usually handle illegal gambling pretty well, but trying to forge a few chips has left him in a bad position, which is: on the ground with about six guys around him, ready to teach him a lesson.]

Come now, isn't six against one a little unfair?

[It definitely isn't a sneaky 'for the SIX GUYS', he's worried, but he sounds amused anyway. One punches him and he takes the hit to his eye.]

Great, that'll leave a mark. [But now, he's on his feet faster than you'd think a man with his bulk could be. He's not always keen to fight, but tonight, he's wanting to feel the crack of a jaw, a trickle of blood. He's already got two guys down, when he's distracted by someone turning the corner.]

b. I may still have talked too much

[Eames isn't really very picky about food, and he's eaten cuisine from all over the world. He picks something at a food truck and sits to eat at a bench, looking a little rougher than usual without his hair, but he does want to try to make friends. He smiles a little, patting the seat next to him.]

This seat's free.

c. dead man walking tonight

[The fight club was a reasonable place to expect to find answers. At least, until the bartender had decided Eames was asking too many questions and threw him in the fighting ring.

He comes out of it looking pissed as hell, though he'd certainly taken it out on his opponents. He's got blood running down his shirt and sweat gathering at the back of his neck. The blood seems to be coming from his nose, and he hasn't really stopped to do anything but wipe it on his sleeve.

He goes up to the bar, taking someone's drink and downing. I'm sorry, was that yours? He doesn't seem to notice.]

d. network; @peterian.staker

what do you dream about? do you remember them? I heard dreaming's a little different around here.

e. wildcard

[Thinking of something else? Hit me with whatever, or let's plot via pm or plurk!]

c

[soliterraneous]

[ Aeryn had watched this man get thrown into the ring (after she's had her fights for the night, thanks) and doesn't so much protest having her drink stolen from her as much as raises her eyebrows in question.

She orders two more. ]

What'd you do to piss off the bartender?

d. @ellie.miller

[notathreat]

Oh shit buddy, you're in for a ride.

It's not always that bad. At least most of the time you realize you're dreaming.

d.

[unmoor]

I hope you're prepared for the most filthy details coming your way, mate.

lara croft | tomb raider

[stratigraphy]

festival

[Maybe it's a blessing that Lara has become so used to being in over her head and not knowing what the next step is that this is easy to take in stride. Well, easier. Somehow none of this seems to be at all her fault, which is new. And admittedly, her heart broke when she learned just how small this world is compared to home. So much knowledge lost or locked away. Online reading and document scans will always pale in comparison to the real thing, in Lara's mind.

She does have this, though. A festival, teeming with people, and what better way to learn about the intricacies of this world than to just... throw herself into it? Lara has never been what anyone would call an extrovert, but she doesn't have to be. People watching is its own kind of research.

It's easy to find her wandering the food stalls, sampling a bit of everything she sees (and maybe you'll want to stop her from ordering that particularly nasty dish). Maybe you'll find her wandering, studying the clothes and the people like she's writing some kind of paper in her mind. Or maybe she'll turn to you at one of the VR booths, expression curious, and ask if you've tried one yet.]

fight club

[This is... not entirely Lara's scene. She's perfectly aware of how deadly she can be, how deadly she's been forced to be, and showing it off like this, using violence as a pastime... It makes her skin crawl.

The truth is, Lara has never felt quite so unmoored in her life. Every mystery she's encountered, every puzzle she's solved has had some basis in the endless, gorgeous march of humanity's history. Everything does here too, of course, but she's missing so much. Hundreds and hundreds of years of culture and war and change, utterly foreign to her.

If she's going to understand it, ground herself in this world so she can begin to untangle its secrets, she needs to understand all of it. Even the less savory parts. So here she is at ringside, arms crossed, the only outward sign of her distaste a slight twitch of her lips every so often. Eventually, she takes notice of the person beside her—another Displaced, she thinks, though she hasn't memorized every face just yet.]

Are you here to fight?

@lara.croft

What can you tell me about the powers here? Sharing memories and dreams? I've read the guides and I believe I understand the logistics. I want to know how it feels, what everyone thinks personally, and how you became comfortable with them. Or not, I suppose.

festival

[soliterraneous]

[ The woman that Laura has asked about the VR presentation has long dark hair settled around her shoulders and a grim, calculating sort of expression on her face. Laura wouldn't be wrong to feel a little sized up in this conversation, but it doesn't seem that Aeryn is trying to be rude or anything.

She sizes everyone up. ]

I did, yesterday.

[ Aeryn has been standing here for a moment, frowning at the VR booth. She understands it, on a certain level; you want everyone to be on the same page, historically, but this?

This doesn't feel like training. It feels like trauma waiting to happen.

So she adds: ] If you don't have combat experience, I wouldn't suggest it.

fight club!

[sakhr]

[ According to the fancy new ID he's been given, Bartimaeus is of age. And he is, substantially so, but that doesn't mean he isn't being side-eyed furiously by a lot of the patrons considering the fact that he looks like a fifteen-year-old. As such, he's a little disgruntled to have his motives questioned, not for the first time tonight,¹ and he has an explanation prepared. ]

Alright, now, first of all, [ he says brusquely, ] would you confront a little old granny if she wanted to come to this disgusting bar and watch someone pummel someone else with their tiny little fists? No, you wouldn't, because she's old. Just because I look sprightly and youthful doesn't mean I'm any less deserving of enjoying the show.

[ ¹ The actual first time was at the bar, when he'd innocently sidled up and requested a Bloody Mary (when trapped in a human body, do as the humans do). The bartender had taken one look at him, thrown his head back and laughed, which was at least a neat nonverbal way of being terribly rude. In retrospect, he might have been right to laugh, since once he'd proved himself old enough to consume alcoholic beverages he'd found the cocktail repellent after one sip. Humans really are unanimously disgusting. ]

holli would | cool world

[pencildick]

( a. )

[ There's a lot of things about the real world she doesn't understand yet - a lot of things. Almost everything, really. She's used to people staring at her everywhere she goes, of course, but now it's for a new reason entirely. Namely, the fact that she looks, well... like a cartoon. A strikingly realistic one, weaving through the festival crowd on ever-present heels, and she's solid enough as she nonchalantly butts her way past people. Doesn't even notice that people are shirking away from her odd appearance a bit.

She doesn't understand much about the Noid world, yet. But she sure as fuck understands parties.

Holli ends up in a few clubs and bars over the evening, grimy and upscale alike, whichever ones will let her in for free because she's beautiful and flirts with the bouncers. The only real common factor between them is pumping music and a dance floor, a well-stocked bar. When she isn't perched at the bar with a glass of something brown and viciously strong, she's out on the dance floor, in some very 90s makeup, with some very 90s hair, doing some very 90s dance moves in a dress that doesn't really leave too much to the imagination. Sometimes she'll find a random person and pull them in to dance with her, hands flitting over their sleeve just long enough to reel them in like a fish. ]

Come here often?

( b. tw: violence )

[ It's not like she intended to fight tonight, okay. It just kind of happens.

Namely, Holli came to watch out of sheer curiosity - Noid violence is so much different than Doodle violence - and naturally found company in the form of a petty criminal with good enough seats and booze to keep her satisfied. But she never wears more than she strictly has to, and his grimy hand keeps trying to roam up under her miniskirt. She ends up grinding her cigarette out on his knuckles. Eugh.

That's how she ends up all but shoved into the cage, the crowd erupting into obscene sounds and wolf whistles. She seems confused, turning around to look at her audience, the heels of her boots clicking as she does. Her opponent is looking pretty beefy as she steps in, and the tall blonde is looking lost - surely she's going to need some help.

However, assuming no one steps in, there's hardly any need to worry. She ducks out of the way of her opponent's first (wide) swing, grabs the woman's arm, and--

Welp sure did just crush all the bones in her forearm, oops. Powers sure are wacky! Holli looks bewildered for a moment - she doesn't remember ever being this strong before - and doesn't even think to let go in her surprise, catching the other fist and squeezing it steadily, until the bones creak and threaten to give. Doesn't even think to hide the steady blue throb in her chest. (She might not want to anyway, it goes with her eyes.)

Holli doesn't have the guile to pretend she's not fascinated by hurting this woman. (It's the power she's always wanted.) And unless someone stops her, she's only going to keep squeezing.

It's kind of fun. ]

b.

[soliterraneous]

[ Aeryn is next to fight - well, honestly, she was supposed to fight Holli's current combatant, but then the blonde got shoved into the ring before she got here, so.

She'd stopped, and waited, to see what would happen. People surprise you, after all, and the dodge is a good one.

That sound of crunching bones? The blue glow coming from her chest? Not good signs. Nor is the sound of the crowd, which is a mix of disbelief, anger, and something else that Aeryn recognizes from when people who'd been oppressed by the Peacekeepers found a lone one in their midst. It's the sound of a mob about to turn on someone, if something doesn't give first.

So she goes into the ring and puts her hand on the woman's shoulder, briefly. ]

I think you're done.

[ The other woman is still screaming in pain, and Holli probably won't immediately let go, so. ]

It's not safe for you to keep doing this.

ronan lynch | the raven cycle

[somniphoria]

settling in

[ this should be simple.

ronan has had magic his whole life. crafting reality from dreams was practically a fucking art. anything he could imagine was his for the taking, his to hold in his hands and make real. and he'd gotten good at it lately, worked hard to master his dreams, to work with them and hold mastery over them so he no longer feared nightmares.

its something different to bend reality to your will. ]

C'mon, you little shit, [ ronan says to the sad looking potted plant on the table in front of him. he has one hand cradling it, the other is pointing threateningly. he's been at this a while and evidently quiet meditation has run its course. ] I said grow.

[ the plant does not grow. ]

DREAM SHARING

[ this is at least familiar territory. the power he should have here is still gone. a hole punched straight through his chest. but the impression of what should be there is strong enough to give this place form and personality

whatever he lacks in the waking world ronan has here. command and mastery. the landscape around him transforms into a forest - or at least the impression of a forest, something large and forest shaped is certainly what you're standing in - and a raven wheels overhead, her watchful eyes alert for anyone who doesn't belong.

and you don't.

the dream bird lets out a caw that draws his attention. ]

NETWORK

[ ask anyone: ronan lynch is not a texter. he's not a phone person, he's not much for communicating in any way that isn't directly face to face. but he makes due with what he has, and what he has is this awful little implant that ensures he's never really excused to leave something on read. ]

tell me about the dreams here

dreamsharing

[scrlies]

( belonging is an interesting thing. defining if one belongs some place can be tricky--because, see, adam has spent a rather significant amount of time scrying into ronan's dreams. sitting awake at his bedside with one of ronan's dream lights in hand while ronan sleeps just a few feet away.

but he's always been awake during those. bringing himself into the world ronan keeps behind closed eyes, that he used to catch glimpses of in cabeswater. in lindenmere, now.

but this isn't his territory, he wasn't invited, wasn't anticipating it this time.

still, there's a curl to his lips when adam spies the raven. barely visible, barely noticeable, but he extends his arm out to her regardless. )

Hey, Chainsaw. ( or copy of chainsaw. chainsaw the third, or fourth. who knows how many dream chainsaws there are. )

NETWORK | @ren.amamiya

[variate]

Sure.
People can visit one another's dreams. Right now it's pretty involuntary.
There was a big dream, too, where everyone dreamed together.
I wasn't here for that, but I heard about it.

bartimaeus | the bartimaeus sequence

[sakhr]

» explore the changes

one —
[ This is new.

That's not to say that Bartimaeus is the type to be stymied by new surroundings – they're his bread and butter, his raison d'être, if you will. But when you're expecting to be sent home at long last, after six miserable weeks on Earth, the last thing you might expect is ending up in some dystopian future world surrounded by the most alarming, hideous constructions,¹ and locked in a windowless "safehouse" until further notice, it requires a sharp realignment of the senses and priorities, as well as the laying of blame at anyone else's feet but his own. Nathaniel's fault, probably. That idiot.

First of all, Bartimaeus is quite alarmed to discover that, no matter how hard he strains, he has no more access to the seven planes. It's making him squint at just about everyone with hitherto unexperienced levels of suspicion. Secondly – and this he discovers while attempting to loose a Detonation squarely at that offensive door blocking his access to the rest of the world – his magic is gone. No Plasms, no Infernos, no Convulsions, No Compressions, Spasms, or Shields... Nothing. Just little old him, in what seems to be the last concrete form he'd occupied before he landed here. The solidness of his body is a little alarming, for someone used to shapeshifting the way humans are used to breathing.

It takes him a while to realise he's not completely without ability. He picks one of the cots and sits down cross-legged, a young Egyptian boy with a sharp, world-weary face, hands loosely on his knees. He shuts his eyes and concentrates, very hard. He's never concentrated this hard on changing form before and it's giving him something of a headache. He looks like he's meditating.

When he opens his eyes after five torturous minutes, one of his eyebrows is bright, neon green. He's entirely unaware of this. What he is aware of, though, is someone staring at him. ]

What? [ he asks, in a detached tone that yet implies great sovereignty over this unseemly individual. ] Spit it out.

[ ¹ Read: humans. ]

two —
[ He's been stuck in this safehouse for two days before he realises that the ravenous stomach pains that have been following him around all this time are probably because he's hungry. Bartimaeus staggers into the kitchen as if he's about to drop dead, flopping over the counters and shoving some sort of nut-based bread into what he is almost certain is a toaster. The wait is torture. He isn't even sure if the thing's working until smoke starts to billow furiously out of the top, at which point he realises the bread is definitely burnt to a crisp, sending volumes of foul burnt smell wafting throughout the safehouse.

Very subtly, he slides out a new, regular piece of bread, tears off a chunk and stuffs it into his mouth, leaning casually against the counter. Anyone who wanders into the kitchen will be greeted with a smile and a cheery wave, as he acts as if the acrid smell of burnt toast isn't currently choking his nostrils. ] Afternoon. Or, morning. I can't tell. Feels like an afternoon, though.

» network

three —
[ This neural implant thing is rather worrying in its implications, chiefly because he didn't even think he went to the effort of crafting himself a discrete brain when he was shifting forms. But with an intellect like his, astounding acts of creation shouldn't really surprise, even if they do delight and awe. Anyway, he needs a new name, and for personal reasons 'Bartimaeus' just won't do. He'd thought about John Mandrake, out of pure spite directed at Nathaniel for what he assumes was a colossal amateur foible in the pentacle, but he really doesn't want to go around having people call him that for however long he's going to be stuck here. Every other name he cycles through is entirely too ostentatious, since he's definitely more of the subtle type. Luckily for him, he can stay mysterious for now. ]

un: anonymous
Can any magicians (present or past) please identify themselves? I'm tabulating a list.

[ ...of people to never interact with under any circumstances, but nobody needs to know that. ]

» wildcard

[ hit me up at crowders to do a lil plotting or just toss something else at me! ]

@james.olsen

[jimmies]

not a magician past or present but i was a genie one time
does that help?

jo harvelle | supernatural

[damnrightreo]

SETTLING IN

[ having been raised in a bar means being more comfortable behind the bartop than in front of it. jo had only meant to grab herself some tap water from the soda gun when someone settles directly in front of her and asks for a beer. she has half a mind to pull a coyote ugly and spray them in the face but she's squatting at this bar by the grace of god — a bar god — which means she isn't willing to risk it just yet.

she sets her cup down, keeping it within reach, and leans on straight arms against the bartop. ]

Alright, shoot. What can I get you?


CRIMINAL ACTIVITY

[ hand-me-down clothes couldn't be less of a neon sign that she doesn't belong in a casino, the stubborn swagger as she sits at the table seems to outweigh her otherness. she likes poker, jo is used to being underestimated by everyone she meets so ghosting by under the radar before she takes the table for everything they've got and then some is generally her plan from the start.

she lays down a decent hand, winning the round, and one of the men at the table goes very purple in the face. "You're cheating!" ]

Y'got me. I've had the cards up my sleeve this entire time.

[ they're vr cards, she is wearing a sleeveless top, and even if she was cheating, well. she's not about to admit it, is she? ]


WILDCARD

[ choose your own adventure ]

settling in

[somniphoria]

Said a beer, didn't I?

[ Can't be more specific than that. The brands of the future are all beyond him. Names he doesn't actually care to know because in the end, they get you drunk all the same.

not that he's angling to get drunk. at least not this early in the day. there's not a ton to do when you're jobless, powerless, and always a little pissed off. ]

Kisame Hoshigaki | Naruto

[samebito]

I. NEW POWERS

[ For most Displaced, the blue light shining from their sternum is a bit like wearing a neon sign. It loudly proclaims that they have powers, and it draws the attention of anyone who might be nearby. For Kisame, however, the effect is quite the opposite. His power is one that manipulates perception; right now, he's using it to make himself go unnoticed. Useful as it is, Kisame's power comes with limitations — and unfortunately for him, figuring out those limitations involves some trial and error.

Perhaps it happens in the safehouse. Or perhaps it happens out in public near a food truck. In either case, it plays out much the same. One moment, there's a seemingly empty space — or perhaps a space that simply isn't worth any attention. The next moment, Kisame's power deactivates, and that space is filled by a 6'5" muscular man with pale blue skin and distinctly shark-like features.

Needless to say, Kisame goes from unnoticed to extremely noticed in an instant.

To his credit, Kisame doesn't appear fazed, even if others jerk back in alarm. On the contrary, he breathes out a quiet laugh. ]

Well, it seems that's the time limit…

II. VR SIMULATIONS

[ This technology is entirely unlike anything from Kisame's home. The easiest way to familiarize himself might be to experience it firsthand. However, that would require a certain degree of trust — trust in the technology or trust in a partner to pull him out of it. Since both of those things are decidedly lacking, Kisame opts instead to observe. He sits unobtrusively nearby and slowly sips a drink. His tiny yellow irises roam from one participant to the next, watching the before, the during, and the after. However, he never looks for long enough to be caught staring. He's a shinobi, after all; while surveillance isn't his specialty, he's far from inept.

If he spots someone he recognizes, he shoots them a friendly, sharp-toothed smile. Should they approach, he says, ]

It's interesting, isn't it? Did you see anything like it before…?

[ Before showing up in this place, that is. ]

III. FIGHT CLUB

[ Between Kisame's physique and his shark-like appearance, he looks as though he should be in the ring. He's tall, broad, muscular, and has teeth that could tear someone's throat out. Those who pay close attention may also notice that he carries himself like a well-trained martial artist or swordsman. (Both are accurate.) However, Kisame isn't in the ring: he's by the bar chatting amicably with staff and patrons alike.

The thing is, Kisame knows that he could defeat every fighter he's seen thus far. And while he may love combat, he'd rather not show his prowess just yet. Besides, without his partner here to help curb Kisame's bloodlust, "defeat" could very well turn to "kill." He can practically hear the low, even voice telling him, "Settle down, Kisame."

So, for now, Kisame sticks to intel gathering. And if his expression is a bit overeager when a fight turns particularly brutal, what of it? That's not so different from the other patrons, is it? ]

IV. WILDCARD

( ooc: bring your own starter! pm if you'd like to plot something specific. )

FIGHT CLUB

[thebluewraith]

[The arena wasn't anything shocking to him. In fact, the most surprising thing is the fact that these are all volunteers who get paid. Still, he didn't like the idea of fighting like a dog in a cage again — though he'll admit the arenas in Tevinter were a lot more grandiose and less...gritty.

He finds himself disgusted by the whole thing all the same, but he's here to scout, and that's what he's doing.

It's only natural that he will eventually find himself at the bar. He notices the large (strange...very strange) man watching the battle with a particular interest.

Normally he wouldn't engage in conversation at all, but he is on his third drink.]

The larger man is leaving himself too open, [he notes, more to himself than anything.] He's cocky.

Fenris | Dragon Age: Blue Wraith

[thebluewraith]

1. 𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓾𝓹 𝓸𝓯 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓮 {𝓟𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂}

[The safehouse is an absolutely infuriating place. He spends a lot of the time pacing, glowering, sometimes attempting to keep himself busy if he can manage. It doesn't take much to get him to snap at someone; perhaps you've approached him to see why he's pacing, or had a question, or maybe you made the mistake of patting his arm to get his attention — either way he'll turn abruptly with a glower—]

Leave. Me. Be.

[His chest begins to swell with his glow, as well as the compulsion to respect his space, to back up, not out of fear but obligation. Or maybe you're witnessing all of this, watching a fellow displaced suddenly shift their entire demeanor as they back away with a respectful bow of their head.]

2. 𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓪𝓵𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹𝔂 {𝓜𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓮}

[It's accidental.

A stray touch, a tap, a brush of anything without Fenris having his armor from home that covers every inch of skin, all while he's in the midst of thinking about old times. Good, bad, utterly ridiculous...one in particular—

"So what do you do in that gigantic house all day?"

Fenris looked down at the dwarf with a quirked brow; he can feel the dread of whatever questions were sure to follow, but he already knew he'd deflect as he always does. He half hope Hawke, walking up just ahead as they made their way through the grungy streets of Lowtown, would interfere — alas he seemed focused on wherever he was leading them next. Probably lost again.

"Dance, of course."

Varric regarded him with a suspicious stare. "Really?"

Fenris spreads his arms. "I run from room to room, choreographing routines."

A hearty laugh escapes Varric. "You're actually joking. Alert the Chantry! They need to put this on the calendar!"

A small smile tugs at Fenris's lips. "And you thought I was always serious."]

3. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓼𝓸𝔀𝓼 {𝓐𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭/𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓭}

[You might also find him in a bar somewhere, any bar really, either drinking or working part time as a bouncer, glowering at anyone who looks like they're about to start trouble, or actively starting shit. You also might find him on a rooftop perched on the ledge just staring down dramatically at the cityscape below.

Feel free to make up any scenario of your own! Or hit me up at nicknacked if you would like to plot something!]

2.... hi, i was directed here

[insect]

[ it's not her own memory, which is jarring in and of itself, but it plays out in its entirety before she's able to figure out how to stop it. there's an unfamiliar feeling of dread at the question, and she wonders if it's something this person gets often, enough to warrant that reflex to deflect and make light of it. thankfully, it's a short memory and when it's over, they're back in the kitchen of the safehouse. she lets go of the mug they'd both been inadvertently reaching for and gestures to it with a smile for him to take it. ]

I'm sorry, please go ahead. I'll get another one.

terry mcginnis ( batman beyond )

[schwayed]

( festival )

Oh my God, you have got to try this.

[ then there's a kid shoving what looks like some kind of bug-filled, well-spiced taco-thing in your face. he's black-haired, blue-eyed, slim and attractive and probably no older than eighteen. maybe nineteen if you're feeling generous.

he thumbs away some of the sauce still at the corner of his mouth, licking it off. ] Say what you want, but the food in this place is pretty schway.

( fight club )

[ that kid from earlier was tougher than he looks-- or maybe exactly as tough as suspected, depending on who you are. after being tossed into the ring for being too mouthy, he took down a guy twice his size, lithe and acrobatic and running his mouth the whole time.

now he's climbing back out of the ring, lip split and teeth bloodied but grinning, grimly satisfied. his knuckles are bruised and bloodied, too, and he jerks his chin up questioningly to someone nearby. ] Hey, you know where they keep the bandages?

( network )
un: terry.mcginnis

gotham or neo gotham mean anything to anyone?
thanks!

un: conner kent

[kon]

yea, it does

are you from there?

Will Graham ¤ Hannibal

[cognitivus]

𝕤𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟

（ It's late in the evening at Red Wings the night of a Displaced drop-off, and Will sits at the far end of the bar with his hand wrapped around a beer glass. It's forgotten, though, in favor of staring out at nothing in particular — that way people do when they're engaging with their implant.

After several silent seconds, he might startle a few unsuspecting neighbors with a quiet bark of scathing laughter. If someone catches his eye, he'll twist a sharp smile at them. ）


Sorry, I'm... reading over the welcome guide and marveling at how unbelievably unimaginative my psychotic break is.

@𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝.𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕙𝕒𝕞

I'm curious: how many people here routinely engage in the use of the empathy bond? Was it a deliberate decision or something you developed over time? What do you use it for?

I wouldn't mind hearing a few horror stories, too.

settling in

[immutable]

[ the sarcastic laughter is hard to miss, and Hugh looks over.

he returns the man's comment with a slight smile and a raise glass. he can understand the reaction to this place, even if he's satisfied enough that it's all real ]

Do your psychotic breaks tend to be more fanciful?

peter parker | mcu

[nerded]

❚❚❚❚❚ settling in

[ In his too-baggy sweatshirt and awkwardly coloured shorts to not-match, looking like he'd accidentally fallen into a pile of fabric and emerged with the aforementioned items sticking to him, it's honestly still a better outfit than nothing. Not a totally unlikely scenario either if this was home and he still had the ability to be sticky, but life's just throwing all kinds of lemons in his direction and he doesn't even like lemonade.

Peter Parker can be found seated at the bar some time after the wardrobe change, with a glass of water and a half-eaten sandwich, pretending to be totally fine with the whole 'I've woken up in another world' stuff. Because he's been to space, he's fought off aliens bent on destroying the entire multiverse, the probability of there being an infinite number of parallel and surrounding realities is actually not as farfetched as one would think, and he's ... you know. A superhero back home, or whatever. An honorary Avenger, kinda. He fought alongside Iron Man! Captain America! Captain Marvel! (Who looked at him funny and probably thought he was a total weirdo, but it's fine, it's totally fine.)

But at some point if you happen to get wrangled into conversation with him, it's pretty clear that the pretense he'd been keeping up is starting to show cracks, even if he's being aggressively upbeat about the whole thing. Finding answers is going to be tomorrow's task, first thing in the morning. ]

Oof — man. I dunno if you've ever seen this really old movie? About this guy who like, wakes up and discovers there's this whole other world, and he's the One guy who's gotta like, save everyone because he takes the red pill instead of the blue? [ He rambles when he's nervous, or stuck in a new weird situation, or he just wants to fill the silence so the other person isn't staring at him weird, or they're staring at him weird but it's okay because he's talking. He misses his aunt, he misses his friends, he misses New York. And his webshooters! His bare wrists leave him feeling really, really defenseless.

Which was probably the point when he woke up on a lab table. ] Literally they refer to him as 'The One'. I mean, the movie was awesome but I really hope this place isn't like that. Who could ever be ready for that kinda responsibility?

[ Downloading kung-fu into your brain is a pretty good perk though. Probably. ]

Uh — sorry. [ A small huff of breath. ] It's been kind of a long day.


❚❚❚❚❚ network: peter.parker

uh hey everyone

so i've got a couple of weird questions ... are we still expected to go to school here? i'm like a semester away from graduating and i'd really like to be done with high school for the rest of ever

but speaking of school ... if there are schools, do we have access to them? or more specifically the ... labs


❚❚❚❚❚ wildcard

[ ooc: feel free to drop your own prompt or hmu to plot smth! ]

network ; @jason.todd

[reneger]

high school is eternal
you'll be stuck in classes until you're 30, here
congrats
and they're all online schools, no labs

Naomi Nagata | The Expanse

[tekimetexeng]

i. arrival; empathy bond

[ Arrival in New Amsterdam is possibly the worst nightmare Naomi’s never had before. To be taken and experimented on… isn’t unheard of in her time of course, but isn’t something she ever thought herself at risk of. The people who brought her to the Safehouse seemed kind enough but their answers left much to be desired, and now she’s being told she’s trapped here while they set up identities for the newcomers. The “Displaced.” That’s certainly what it feels like.

The strangest part is that she’s on Earth and whatever they’ve done to her, it isn’t painful to be here. She’s never set foot on solid ground before, isn’t built for it, would have to go through hell to be able to tolerate the gravity of a planet with atmosphere under normal circumstances but now? Her lungs aren’t being crushed. She’s able to stand under her own power. It feels… wrong. Like it’s not real, like this isn’t happening, it’s all just some terrible nightmare she can’t wake up from. And it’s possible that this isn’t really Earth after all, right? She was too out of it to think to look up before she was hustled into the Safehouse. And there are no windows in here, no sky. Perhaps this is all just a trick.

But trick or not, there are certain truths. She needs to do things like eat and sleep and bathe and after that, clothe herself again. There’s a group of fellow new arrivals rummaging through stacks of donated clothing in the bunk room, and Naomi joins them reluctantly. Reaches in and her fingers brush someone’s wrist, engaging the bond for just a second before she pulls her hand back, remembering that little detail and hoping they didn’t pick up too much.

In that second of bond it’s clear she’s terrified, but interestingly it doesn’t show to that degree on the outside. Her posture is tense but not frightened as it’s now known she is on the inside, and she just flashes a tiny polite smile and speaks in a carefully even voice. ]

Beg your pardon.

[ She apologizes to the person she brushed up against, grabbing a sweater from the pile at random even though it’s going to be far too big, just so she can get away. ]

ii. food trucks

[ Naomi is used to her “meats” being made from soy, not bugs, but seems curious rather than disgusted. There are more food truck options than there are stalls in the Ceres Medina, and most of them are things she’s never tried. Earth delicacies. Though she’s mostly displeased about being here, she may as well sample the offerings. She has to eat, right? The only question is what. She has both limited funds and stomach space, and a complete lack of experience with most of these cuisines.

So she follows her nose to what smells the best, and taps someone in line on the shoulder. ]

Excuse me, but what’s this one making?

[ It will likely mark her as an outsider not to know, but she can probably play it off that she couldn’t see the menu through the crowd. ]

iii. games

[ It’s some time later that Naomi accidentally wanders into the to-be battlefield of one of the street laser tag games going on. Thinking that she knows as well and wants to play, an eager volunteer rushes up to her with a gun and sensor but when she sees the ‘weapon’ she recoils, raising both hands and skittering back from it, eyes wide.

Everyone is giving her very strange looks, but she really doesn’t know any better that it isn’t a real gun. And she doesn’t do guns. Or games, really, laser tag wouldn’t be something she’s ever heard of.

Will you be kind enough to explain? ]

iv. network / @ naomi.nagata

[ As soon as she gets her network ID, Naomi posts a message to the Displaced, trying to find another Belter or at least someone from her reality. It looks like gibberish at first glance, but should it be read aloud it's actually not that hard to decipher. ]

Oye. Mi na Inya. Ketim da kapawu gonya go fo Tycho?

Mi na wanya solo ere. Anymang to pochuye ke?

[ translation: "Hello. I am not an Inner. When does the next transport leave for Tycho? I don't want to be alone here. Does anyone understand?" ]

v. wildcard

[ Naomi will also be visiting the history booths to try and learn about the world she’s wound up in, spending a ridiculous amount of time in the parks just staring up at the sky, asking around in the Safehouse if anyone has any practical experience with the cybernetics on this world… feel free to run with one of those things or something else entirely! I’m easy. ]

Arrival

[requiemshark]

[ For lack of a better idea, Ephemera resumes his regular patterns. He doesn't know what he's doing with himself, really. The aftermath hangs on him in a way he wasn't ready for and he feels brittle, his control fraying.

He killed someone for no reason other than the temporary satisfaction of the fight. He put a knife through the man's throat and it felt--

He doesn't know how it felt. He died before the feeling could register. And now he's back.

This keeps on happening, doesn't it? Over and over again.

So he falls back to his old patterns. It's either that or camping out at the fight club, and the announcers have told him more than once that they'll kick him out if he fucks up too much. Work out your shit somewhere else, Ephemera. What else is he going to do but try and get through the day?

He stiffens at the touch, the empathy bond flaring. Anger and tension roil under the surface, everything brittle and sharp.

Then he jerks away, good eye narrowed. He doesn't know this woman. She's new. And she didn't fucking meet it.

Breathe, asshole. Don't act like a crazy person. ]

Try not to do that.

[ His tone is short. ]

kavinsky ( the raven cycle )

[dreamkillers]

cw: implied suicide, self-harm, drugs, consent issues to the tune of not being able to consent when impaired.

( festival )

[ the first couple of days had been.. difficult, to say the least. he'd been dead, he thinks? or about to die. he remembers the approach of the flames, the heat, the manic satisfaction of knowing finally.

and then he'd been here. he doesn't remember a lot about the first day or two, doesn't care to. he'd been a fucking nightmare, and coming down had been worse. sobriety makes him mean, really fucking mean.

anyway, that's all behind him now. this place is a shitshow, he can't find fucking cigarettes, the vape shit is stupid as fuck, but it hadn't taken him long to find his high and stay that way. a handjob in an alley had been enough to get him some info, and after that, well, he's dropped to his knees for less. so here at the festival, he's fucked up good, satisfactorily drunk, and--

--snatching up a bottle off someone's table, either sliding into their lap or into a seat next to them. he shakes the bottle at them, smile loose and wicked and gaze hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he obtained somewhere. ]

So this is what they call a party here, huh?

( fight club )

[ he doesn't look like much, of course. he's tall, but he's junkie-thin, after all, looking more like he should be sucking the winner off in one of the back rooms than standing in the ring. turns out he can fight, though, and he fights fucking dirty, and he can take a hit and keep on coming.

he's bloody by the time he splits his knuckles on his opponent's teeth, knocking them out with his last punch. they hit the mat, and afterward, he strolls to the edge of the ring, eye already going black and teeth scarlet from his split lip as he smiles, knifelike and as charming as some kind of snake. ]

Hey sweetheart, wanna' hand me a towel? [ his tongue flicks against his teeth, tasting the blood there, and he laughs, short and ugly. ] Or go a round with me, I'm not picky.

( network | @joseph.kavinsky )

👀🤙👅🍆💦🥴👌

( wildcard )

[ idk encounter him wherever. he will probably be a.) high, b.) an asshole. ]

festival

[scrlies]

( parties aren't his thing. adam has attended them, he's gone along with them, smiled and said his part but he's never really much enjoyed them.

and this one is no different. there's a nice table, mildly away from the noise of the party goers that adam makes himself comfortable at. a bottle in front of him that definitely isn't his but is there regardless and then he's---

got a lap full of teenager that was supposed to be dead. there's the immediate reaction: his mouth opening, a hey! sitting on the edge of his tongue that quiets the moment he recognizes kavinsky's face. shoulders stiffen, eyes widen, and instead of bitching at kavinsky to move, he moves a hand out to shove against his side, pushes him off instead. )

What are you doing here?

( he knows time doesn't work the same way here, that it's pretty fucked up. but kavinsky, really? )