TEST DRIVE MEME 010

[larkers]

> TEST DRIVE MEME #010

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 found after being dropped off in a random part of the city and had 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).

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. What comes after is relatively straightforward: you're found by others and taken back to a safehouse that is hidden under an old hover bike shop. You aren't the first group that this has happened to: 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 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.

Morningstar's veteran agents will also make their purpose clear if asked: they are a group dedicated to fighting corruption and righting the wrongs of this world, though they're in the process of rebuilding the organization's branch in New Amsterdam from scratch, and they know that the people in charge of those efforts wouldn't mind a little help. 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 ABILITIES. 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. Through a recent event, 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 had a brief cameo, after all).

◉ 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's the day when the last known AI lifeforms were completely eradicated in 2101. While some might say that it's the day that the UN claimed victory over the AI, to people the world over it's the day that humanity managed to keep themselves from being wiped out. Little will be said in detail about the holiday itself, but a remedial bit of research will cover the six-year-long Xelkoven War between humans and AI. The war itself was started when the home security unit AI Elysian killed 50 households full of people, and the war itself was 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 devised a method to put down the AI for good.

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.

◉ 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.

> 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.

◉ THE UNITED NATIONS ARMY. In fact, it's so wild that sometimes they come up against the extremely dangerous soldiers of the UNA. These soldiers are the military arm of the United Nations government. They aren't the average soldier, however. Dressed in thick black armor that acts as an exoskeleton for their bodies, they are basically invulnerable to any and all attacks. When fighting as a unit, they work perfectly in unison, making it so that they can quickly move to deny almost any and all attacks. They're also extremely resistant to any mental or emotional compulsion or manipulation, making them hard nuts to crack. Ready for a bossfight? They're the soldiers for it.

◉ 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. 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.

> 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

marta cabrera 🔪 knives out

[veraz]

1. network: username [Bad username or site: marta @ cabrera]

Hello and good morning.

I was wondering about a few things:

Firstly, are there other medical professionals here among the Displaced? If so, do we have an organized method of making sure everyone who wants to knows first aid basics has access to someone who will teach them? Supplies and whatever else?

I know that medicine has advanced from what I'm used to but there seems to be enough danger here, historically, to justify learning, if people are interested.

Secondly, does anyone know what happened to the Americas to make it unlivable? Or at least, un-travel-to-able?

Thirdly, what do you miss the most from the places you came from before you got here? Just in case the rest of my questions aren't of interest to you.

2. resolution day festival

a. [ People are celebrating in the streets, in a party the likes of which Marta has never seen before. The food trucks, at least, are a sort of familiar sight. She has noodles and crickets (which doesn't gross her out much; she's had chocolate covered insects before, and they don't taste bad) and is watching a group of people play some kind of game of capture the flag. Every so often someone comes up to draw her in and she shakes her head gently, shoveling more food into her mouth as a way to keep from participating. ]

b. [ Eventually, though, there's music and dancing and this is something that Marta can lose herself in. Sleeves covering her hands to keep from accidentally touching anyone, Marta moves in time with the bass, eyes closed and feet moving this way and that.

When she does bump into someone, her eyes immediately snap open and she catches herself mid-step. ]

Sorry, sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I got caught up in the music. Are you okay?

3. fight club sidelines

[ At some point someone found out that Marta was a nurse and that's how she ended up here, ringside at an underground fight club, wincing as someone takes another hit in the ring. She stands out as someone who isn't cheering or betting but does have a bodyguard of sorts right behind her - just in case someone gets the bright idea to kidnap or otherwise remove the medic from the scene.

Or maybe she's the one that's been kidnapped and the guard is to keep her from escaping (this is the much likelier story, here)! Either way, she'll be giving small, tight-lipped smiles to other onlookers and a gentle but practiced hand at first aid to those injured in the ring after their fights. ]

4. wildcard

[ feel free to catch Marta just about anywhere! craft me a starter and I'll happily reply. ]

@kitty.jones

[tombstruck]

1. Are you saying you could teach a few things? All I've ever done is some patching up, but I want to learn.

And 2 – probably war. It's probably going to be war where I'm from, at least.

⟪ she's absolutely ignoring question number three. ⟫

3

[looneytunes]

(Harley gladly joined up at the fight club, finding herself really wanting to punch things lately. She's small stature, but she uses that to her advantage. She does a lot of flips and shits but still ends up a little concussed and on the ground. She yells for Marta.)

Medic!!

@rip.hunter

[timedrive]

Are you a doctor?

What's medicine accomplished where you're from?

John Murphy - The 100

[feralist]

> ᴿᴱˢᴼᴸᵁᵀᴵᴼᴺ ᴰᴬᵞ ᶠᴱˢᵀᴵᵛᴬᴸ

(Murphy has never been a big fan of AI. Not since his Earth was ended by it, and not since ALLIE tried to end it again. She took over his girlfriend's mind, along with several others. Not to mention the whole Flame thing, Christ it was a lot to take in. So when he hears the festival is about the lack of AI, he pumps his fists.)

WOO HOO! FUCK YOU ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE!

↠ FOOD TRUCKS

(Murphy has been living off ALGAE for years now. He is trying anything and everything, passing food along to the next person who looks empty handed. Maybe he just handed you a half eaten kabob. Maybe a hamburger was tossed at your head. Either way, the stress on his stomach is too much, and he throws up, right on your shoes.)

> ᶜᴿᴵᴹᴵᴺᴬᴸ ᴬᶜᵀᴵᵛᴵᵀᵞ
↠ FIGHT CLUB

(Murphy's spent the last six months of those years on his "own" side of the ship. Whenever Bellamy would bring him his meal, Murphy would jump out at him like the goblin that he is. So when given a chance to slip past the bouncers and into the pit, Murphy's ready to fight. His lanky frame squares up and he puts his fists in the air.)

All right, don't hold back because I'm pretty.

> ᴳᴼ ᴺᵁᵀˢ
↠ wildcard, bitches

network
I'm Murphy and you'll forget about me soon enough.

food trucks;

[veraz]

[ Okay, well.

That's not how Marta expected that to go at all.

This man just handed her a half-eaten sandwich of some kind and then threw up all over her shoes so she's just gonna. Set. That sandwich down on a nearby table and grab something to clean this up with. Kelp napkins, or whatever.

She hands him a handful of them. ]

Was it the food or something else?

@clarke.griffin

[strove]

Somehow I doubt that. You're not very forgettable.

@raven.reyes

[feasible]

What was your name again?

( how can she resist an old-fashioned game of kick the cockroach? )

@marian.hawke

[championofsnark]

Hello Murphy how are ---whoops already forgot you.

@reyes.raven

[rpms]

Oh please, don't be so dramatic.

> resolution day festival

[rpms]

[ Raven finds herself surrounded by people, all shouting and cheering. From what's she's gathered - so far - is that today is Resolution Day which sort of reminded her of Unity Day back on the ark, the unity of the thirteen space stations.

She squeezes her way through, ducking and weaving as she goes. Someone pushes her though, and her brace catches on something; she goes down hard. Coincidentally, Raven collapses right at Murphy's feet. ]

Watch where you're going, asshole!

elise wassermann · the tunnel

[scoville]

» one — enjoy the festivities [ Elise is a picky eater. She always has been. It's not a case of not liking cauliflower or turning her nose up at mushrooms or tomatoes; there are just certain textures and tastes that don't appeal to her. Her meal of choice back home is a baguette filled with french fries and doused in tabasco sauce, so she's no connoisseur. But even for her, grasshoppers seem a little odd.

She's standing on the side of the road, away from the crowds, with a small bowl of pad thai in the palm of her hand, curiously poking at it with a fork. It doesn't take long before she spots a familiar face nearby, someone from the safehouse, and she asks with some curiosity and a grasshopper flopped over her fork: ] How do you think they kill them?

» two — ringside chat [ Elise doesn't drink and she's not interested in fighting, but that doesn't mean that being here is without its advantages. She has a glass of Coke – it tastes different to what she's used to – and has commandeered a small bartop bowl of pretzels, which taste almost unbearably bland but are nevertheless giving her something to do with her hands while she watches. She's making an effort to make conversation, because it's what Karl would tell her to do, and she misses Karl like she'd miss a limb if it fell off. That's certainly how it feels; a missing limb. Make conversation!!! Make friends!!! Come on, Elise, it's not that bloody hard, you don't have to tell them your deepest darkest!!! Ask questions if you don't want to share!!! But what if she doesn't care about the answers? Pretend!!!

Elise turns to whoever's nearest to her with her eyebrows lifted and her eyes a little wide. ] Did you know it's possible to die from a single punch to the head?

» three — network un: elise.wassermann
Is it possible to bring other people here?

one.

[tombstruck]

⟪ kitty's gotten herself a eco-mugful of a vegetable soup so spicy she can only take tiny sips at a time. it didn't have bugs, though, so that's just about where the bar is at today.

she eyes the grasshopper with suspicion, having not really thought about the hows, but coming to a suitably grim conclusion: ⟫

They're probably fried alive. ⟪ a shrug, like she doesn't care at all. and she doesn't. it's a bug. ⟫ Or put in the freezer as they are and then popped into the food as needed. Why?

kitty jones | bartimaeus sequence

[tombstruck]

one. safehouse – pancakewalk

⟪ being in the safehouse is driving her mad. she's used to moving about, dodging the night police, practicing, doing something. being locked in with a bunch of people she doesn't know with very little do to is bordering on the torturous. especially if you have a whole baggage claim worth of stuff you really, really don't want to think about. after staring holes into the ceiling, she takes a shower, and after the shower, her stomach is audibly growling –– kitchen it is.

first, she sorts through the various cupboards and the fridge, before she decides on something. sure, there's readymade options, but she needs this to be a task that occupies her a little longer than the five minutes she'd need to scarf down a plateful of pasta graciously provided by unknown someones.

kitty's no great cook, but she's lived alone for a bit already. and she's watched anne, not that she wants to think about anne right now, because that's just going to lead to thinking about whatever's left of anne. bites her lip, shakes her head, back to business. business being mixing pancake batter (the egg-replacement had boasted that it'll "eggceed eggspectations" on its label, and kitty sure as fuck hope it will). ⟫

Am I in the way? ⟪ not alone in the kitchen! woe! ⟫ Or do you want some – ⟪ the batter really just looks like batter, so altogether not super promising. ⟫ They're going to be pancakes.

two. fight club – ouch

⟪ the thing is, she's considered herself a little bit prepared. and for the first... ten minutes or so, it hadn't looked all that bad for kitty. she's fast, she can land a punch and aims pretty nasty for the eyes and nose. her opponent did, in fact, wind up with a badly bloodied one. but she's more practiced in running than she is in actual fighting, and, let's face it, she's sixteen. she's got limits.

so by minute eleven, she's pretty done for, and loses spectacularly before they even hit minute twelve.

afterwards, she's nursing some sizeable bruises at the sidelines, looking a bit grumpy. ⟫

What?

⟪ maybe check on her. or buy her a soda. or call her a dumbass. ⟫

wildcard.

⟪ ooc: i'm open to other random stuff! play vidya with her in the arcade, binge eat at the festival! ⟫

two

[kleptocratic]

[ Eugenides doesn't fight. Because he only has one hand, for one thing, and because he is himself a fairly scrawny nineteen year old, but mostly because he thinks fighting is stupid. However, he has no problem profiting from other people's stupidity, so he bets on the rings fairly regularly. He didn't bet on Kitty— he's not sure that anyone did— but he did see the fight.

Eugenides doesn't offer a soda, but he does glance at her developing bruises before peering out into the ring, where the next fighters are about to be announced. ]

You didn't forfeit.

[ Most people would have, well before minute twelve. ]

cloister witte | digging up bones

[920c]

N E T W O R K ( @ cloister.witte ) »

Do they have K9 units here?

[ he misses bourneville something fierce ]

While I'm here, any tips for cheap accommodation? Doesn't have to be fancy. [ he's used to living out of a duffel bag in a trailer ]

L I F E O F C H A O S »

[ cloister's been trained for plenty of shit. he knows how to shoot and to kill and to regard the enemy as less than human, whoever the enemy was. how to rappel, all about mountain rescue, how to find lost children and mothers who can't make their way home and missing fathers with the help of his dog.

he has no fucking clue how to fight monsters, especially without a rifle or gun in his hand, without even so much as a taser and without bourneville by his side.

so he decides to do something he's always been good at: he runs. ]

Get the hell out of here - [ the yell is barely breathless yet. seriously, though. get the fuck moving before tall, tan and dangerous-looking (with his crooked nose and harsh features) is upon you, grabbing your arm and yanking you up.

there's a snap of command in his voice, used to being obeyed. (by a dog only, but still.) ] Go, go, go.

B A R »

[ new amsterdam isn't plenty, that's for sure. it's futuristic or just in the future (or both, cloister's not too bothered to figure out which of those he should settle on) and it's expensive, but he's found a hole in the wall that serves cold beer for cheap.

tastes like piss, sure, but it's cold. there are fights going on in rings and cloister's almost tempted to go get beat up for some petty cash. javi'd scoff at the indignity of it, he's pretty sure, but javi isn't here and cloister's not so sure he has much dignity.

in fact, he's pretty sure he doesn't when someone brushes against his side, hands touching, and something in his chest catches, some emotion that isn't his thrumming in his veins. on reflex, he reaches out, grabbing the wrist of the person on their way past.

rookie mistake, probably. he'll hate himself for it later. ]

bar

[veraz]

[ Marta is here because the fights are nearby; she'd been working for the last few hours, keeping people healthy, keeping people alive, and she's a little clumsy and drained from the effort of it all.

Not to mention being here, in New Amsterdam, miles and centuries away from anything familiar.

She brushes against someone and means to pull away, unfamiliar emotions clouding her mind, but then the man grabs her wrist so fast that she almost hurts herself trying to put distance between them. ]

Sorry! [ She breathes, wrist captured between them. ] I didn't mean -- [ To upset him, to cause this, to do anything. She'd just wanted a gingerale at the end of a long night. ]

Cassandra Pentaghast | Dragon Age Inquisition

[stabsbooks]

festival

[ Cassandra is not, she would insist to anyone who might dare to ask, homesick. Yes, she is - so they tell her - ages into the future, far removed from anyone or anything she has ever known. Yes, everything is strange and unfamiliar, and she feels uncertain of her every move. All of that is true. But any desire she has to get home - and she does, desperately, desire to go home - is from a place of duty, and concern. For the Inquisition. For the Inquisitor. For Thedas, and not at all for herself.

So she would say.

She wanders through the streets of the festival without really taking any of it in, lost in her own thoughts. There are so many people here, all of them dressed and acting so strangely. The exact purpose of the festival, too, is something she hadn't entirely been able to grasp; it's a celebration over the defeat of an enemy, a victory in a long-ago war, and that's as much as she needs to understand. The idea is familiar enough, even if the execution of it is not.

She stops, finally, in front of a booth - a game, some kind of race, but the participants almost seem to be...gliding along, somehow, on some kind of platform. Something else strange and foreign, like everything here, but it's odd enough to catch her attention, and she stops and watches for a long moment before finally speaking. ]

How is this possible?

empathy bond

[ Worry for her friends. Anxiety, a feeling of being lost, in the strange new world she's found herself in. Determination to get home, no matter what it takes. Longing for something, anything familiar. An almost stubborn faith, fighting hard against all evidence to the contrary; the Maker had brought her here for a reason, and the Maker will see her home.

It's a swirling mix of emotions that's drowned in an instant by something else - the feelings of the stranger she'd just brushed against. Cassandra yanks her hand back instantly, face going red; she'd heard warnings of this strange sharing of one's deepest emotions, but had convinced herself that she could be careful, that she could keep her hands to herself and avoid it. It's mortifying, being privy to someone else's feelings, and knowing that they'd felt hers in return. ]

I am sorry - please forgive me.

wildcard

[ Anything is good! ]

ooooo Festival!

[championofsnark]

[ Hawke's been around long enough that at this point she's learned to take what's coming and not obsess over what isn't. This is not exactly a new thing for her; she's an adapter by nature and she doesn't really care that much for pointless endeavors. If something's a lost cause, like being stuck in another time and another planet with no ability to leave, she might as well live with it. She makes herself at home. It's not any worse than living on the dirty pathways or ditches, really.

She almost looks like she belongs here too, wearing casual clothes that fits in with the others here, her dark black hair already short so the slight shaving when she arrived didn't make much of a difference. Hawke dances as she moves through the festival, humming along and enjoying a drink, because for all she knows the world is over. She often finds herself drawn to the bizarre games that make no sense to her, and she doesn't even realize she's standing next to someone she knows at first. Well "knows" is a stretch.]

I've no clue, they've tried to explain it about a dozen times, and it makes no more sense than the first.

[Hawke assumes this has to be one of their kind, to be so confused, and she glances over to instantly recognize the Seeker herself. It's less than a second before she bursts out in laughter; another time she'd go whoops and try to run off, but instead, she laughs.]

Well hello there, Seeker. Did you come all this way just for me?

Agent Maine | Red vs Blue (CRAU)

[bloodbathing]

HISTORY LESSONS

[ Recon isn't Maine's preferred type of mission. Not by a long shot. Maybe that's because he's so noticeable: he's seven-feet-tall and heavily muscled, making him far too conspicuous for infiltration. Or maybe it's because gathering intel is just boring to such an action-oriented individual.

But recon is what Maine's stuck doing. Learning this place's history, studying the attitudes of the natives, and trying to figure out how the fuck to survive in this universe. It's dull but necessary work, and Maine approaches it with the same determination he approaches damn near everything.

That determination lasts right up until he watches a video detailing the eradication of A.I.

There's a moment of mute shock as he images play out before him. Then his expression changes; anger and revulsion cloud his features as he quickly steps away from the booth…

… And then he plows right into whatever unfortunate soul was behind him, most likely knocking them to the ground.

Whoops? ]

FIGHT CLUB

[ Believe it or not, Maine didn't actually intend to be here. He just passed a little too close to the door. Then someone saw the seven-foot-tall wall of muscle that is Maine, they ushered him inside, and here he is. Watching the current fight and wondering how the fuck he got himself into this.

Maine can't melt into the crowd. But he can plow his way through that crowd like a ship parting the waters. He finds a wall and puts his back to it, folds his arms, and locks his gaze on the fighters.

The fuck is the point of this? Are they fighting for money? Some other prize? He narrows his eyes and watches their technique with a critical eye, wondering if it's worth getting involved. ]

EMPATHY BOND

[ Initially, it's easy to accidentally touch Maine's skin. He's huge and very easy to bump into. Plus, he has an apparent fondness for short sleeves, leaving his arms wholly exposed.

After too much unintentional contact, however, Maine starts covering up as much skin as possible. The only bare parts of him are his head, neck, and hands. But even when he's taking precautions, contact is still possible.

However skin-to-skin contact happens, the emotions one picks up from Maine are invariably the same. There's a deep sense of loss, guilt, and a twinge of fear — but above all else, there is fury. The kind of rage that makes someone want to scream, or cry, or put their fist (or someone's head) through a wall — or much, much worse.

And when Maine jerks away from the contact, it's with a deep, wordless snarl of anger. ]

NETWORK

username: [Bad username or site: august @ j]ónsson

Who's done this "new universe" shit before?

network; @drake.holloway

[braveoff]

[ Drake doesn't recognize the name in the ID, but that doesn't mean all that much, he figures. Either way he has to ask. ]

I have. There are a handful of us... where were you last?

Leia Organa | Star Wars

[revolutionaryprincess]

1. Arrival, the safehouse

[ This is far from Leia's first kidnapping but it's been long enough that she isn't as patient as she could be. Being plucked out of a vital moment meant her thoughts are clouded with questions and concerns about what has been left behind. Sitting still is not one of her strong suits and there's only so much space in this place to cover, going over strategic ideas about how to get out and none of them seem feasible.

She can be found in the safehouse either pacing relentlessly around, attempting (unsuccessfully) to meditate into a calmer space or reaching for the Force that isn't coming, or cleaning up the common areas just to find something to do. Occasionally she'll be sitting on a bed, staring at the door with a laser focus. After her initial frustration passes, Leia is friendly enough, understanding the importance of unity and the power of people in the same situation banding together. She'll smile and introduce herself if she catches someone's eye.]


2. History Lessons

[Leia's interest in the festivities themselves is non-existent. She hasn't sat back and enjoyed free time in as far back as she can remember, if ever, and in this situation it holds no special appeal for her either. So she ignores it and ends up drawn to the booths with information instead. Curious, she listens at each historical stand to take in the information about what exactly happened here. This is the official approved story, after all, and she's skeptical about it right off the bat.]

Right. [She mutters once to herself after the first batch of information goes on her neural implant, but it doesn't stop her from immediately restarting it to listen again. Leia frowns, crossing arms against her chest. This isn't going to get her any answers, but information is leverage, one way or the other. While she doesn't take part in the VR simulations herself, she watches other people do it, and if someone does end up reacting poorly out of trauma, Leia immediately goes to them.]


3. Network

[Bad username or site: leia @ organa]

Who exactly is in charge of this group and what efforts are being made to get us back to where we were before?

4. Wildcard

[OOC: Whatever you want!]

history lessons

[realists]

[ the way the woman's arms cross, the purse of her lips, the perfectly crafted expression of neutral interest; it reminds her of general draven, of cassian, of every senator feigning interest. this woman is In Charge. ]

Bit neat, isn't it?

[ all tied up in a bow.

in jyn's experiences, wars aren't that easily won and now she knows the ai extermination wasn't 100% successful and so does the rest of the planet, however much they might be trying to pretend otherwise. ]

grizz | the society

[quotability]

CABIN IN THE WOODS » (DREAMSHARE)

[ there's a cabin in the woods. that could be the start of a horror movie, but the woods are calm, the air crisp and fresh, birds chirping. the sun filters through the foliage, the ground is soft, but not muddy. the cabin is simple, wood and small windows, the door opening easily when pushed.

inside, there are books and books and books. one window is open, curtains wafting in the air, a small wood-fire stove keeping the cabin warm regardless. there's a couch and on that couch is a man — broad-shouldered and tall but young, a messy bun atop his head, strands falling out because his hair is really not long enough.

he's reading, but he looks up at whoever entered the cabin. the lines of his shoulders are mostly relaxed. there's a moment of hesitation, possibly almost of disbelief, before he smiles. ]

Hi.

NETWORK ([Bad username or site: gareth @ visser])

if i want to go to college, i probably still need a job, right?

and maybe this is a weird question but
how many of you are adults and how many aren't?

dreamshare;

[bimodal]

( it's comfortable. cozy might be a better word for it. sam moves into the cabin and looks around, notes the books, the air, the smell--none of this matches what he knows is outside of it. the big city, hovercars, towering buildings but this? he much prefers this.

especially when he sees grizz on the couch. there's a small smile that spreads across his lips. he raises a hand, gives a small wave. moves to try and sit down beside him. )

percy jackson — riordan mythos — ota

[ripstides]

AND FOR MY NEXT ACT, I GIVE MYSELF A MIGRAINE.

( there is a boy. man. a boy-man. he’s standing on the lip of a large fountain with his back to bystanders, doing gods know what with his palms balled in fists at his sides. for anyone that’s walking near the far side and can see his face, he looks like he has a vendetta against the flowing water—you don’t know, maybe he does. water really be out here snatching bags from *innocuous elderly women these days.

what’s he doing? exactly what he’s been told not to do, duh. the lack of amnesia is merciful touch but he’s been here before. not here in new amsterdam rather he’s been relocated against his will and without his knowledge before. so this? all of thiiiiiiiiiiiiis? it’s not really doing anything for him. don’t mind him while he raises his palms, open and pointed at the water.

someone behind him, probably anticipating a magic trick, yells do something! at the back of his buzzed head. ( someone wants to eat a shoe. ) )

Could you—I don’t know—not? ( he huffs, concentration broken. the mist here is borked. cool, cool, cool. the guy in the crowd barks another request and percy turns too fast, unaccustomed to water having any effect on him ( unless he wants it to ), and he falls backward into the shallow water. ) Yeap. Real funny.

( he doesn’t look furious so much as 300% Done™ while he stares skyward for a second. he never thought he would miss textboots of all things but here he is, making exhausted fingerguns at his number one fan. ) Check back next week. I’ll be a real clown.

*not to be confused with harpies

AND SOMETIMES WHEN WE TOUCH, IT’S EMOTIONAL-CHICKEN.

( with the exception of boarding school and the first week of camp, percy jackson has a tendency to make friends wherever he goes. that’s not the problem here. he has people to talk to. people who, for some reason, let him carry on. he misses annaebth. he misses his mom. more than anything though, he misses the little things. he misses the lingering smell of chocolate chips on sally when he barrels into her for a hug because he had a rough day. he misses waking up in the night and finding annabeth’s hand with his in the dark. he even misses clarisse knocking on his skull and asking if anyone’s home.

he misses touching people and he doesn’t exactly consider himself a handsy person.

catch him in the kitchen/general room at the safehouse, leaping at the chance to retrieve “milk” or some other ingredient for someone and immediately going in for a high-five. the first time, it’s no big deal. okay. you can’t win ‘em all. the second time, someone’s trying to pull something out of the oven while another timer is going off for something on the stove and he scrambles over to stir what’s passing as rice. his fist comes up for a casual fist bump and he’s shot down again. )

You’re just going to leave me hanging like that? ( he maturely puts the pan back on the burner and walks away.

the third time, he’s all in. let’s go. get in, we’re playing emotional-chicken, losers. he’s not even subtle about it. percy lies in wait, leaning against the counter until someone reaches for an oven mitt next to him and he claps his hand right on top of theirs. )

Nope, sorry. I’m using that. Dibs. ( and if that poor soul is unfortunate enough to sans gloves, they’re getting a ripple of victory, pettiness, and an undercurrent of loneliness. )

NETWORK | percy.jackson

( unfortunately for percy, this is not anonymous. )

ring ring ring rnig ring rngi rign 🍌☎️,,
srs qs time
life or death
10 seconds on the ⏳


who do i talk to about 🍕?

[intellects]

You have 104 major destinations to explore, each with their own culinary opportunities, and you're deadset on pizza.

( percy, please. )

annabeth chase, riordan mythos

[intellects]

01. FEAR FACTOR

( the safehouse is — fine. it isn't the worst place she's ever been. there are walls, sturdy ones to keep out the wet of rain and the heat of the day, and there are beds that are at least marginally more comfortable than the ground. there's even hot water occasionally, and when she's lucky, there's muddy water that somehow tastes exactly like the colombian single-origin roast her father had favored growing up.

not that seven-year-old annabeth chase had had any business drinking coffee. not that anyone bothered to stop her, either.

unfortunately, while the safehouse might be its own brand of homey-adjacent, it's also tucked away, and its thick walls and impenetrable locked doors mean that things that get in (like herself) often can't get out. she understands why they can't, of course. she's read the guide, she's gotten the spiel. no id, no outside world. easy enough.

it just means she has to come up with ways to pass the time.

things like taking a shower, or like washing her hair with whatever bland-scented bars counted for shampoo, only to discover that the soap suds had a particularly rude habit of getting caught in her eyes. she's in the middle of trying to wipe said suds out of her eyes when her obscured vision narrows in on a dark splotch in the grout — only for it to move, the splotch's legs suddenly revealed, able to be counted. two, four, six …

eight.

you know what has eight legs? annabeth chase sure knows what has eight legs, and as that knowledge aligns itself in her mind, so too does a bloodcurdling scream in her mouth, a sound that spills out into the shower and then through the safehouse, a battle cry and a child's terror all at once.

she can't scramble out of the shower fast enough. hope nobody minds a towel-clad teenager who may or may not run straight into them in an attempt to bolt from the room. )

02. NIGHT CLASSES

( annabeth is many things. she's clever, quick-witted, and especially prone to reading a situation before it gets a read on her — but when the gods aren't around to smote a girl, said girl might get a little impulsive. plus it doesn't take a rocket scientist or a war strategist to follow the rumor mill all the way down to a mid-range gambling den. that just takes common sense … and perhaps the insight to put whispers to tracks, or the recklessness to follow a loose-lipped man from groundtram station to the door of a nondescript building covered in shadow.

luckily for annabeth, she has both.

what she doesn't have, sitting in a chair surrounded by men twice her age packing quadruple her budget, is the ability to quit while she's ahead. she's managed to rack up a decent pile of metallic chips in front of her, and while her poker face is steady and sure, there's no likelihood that the questionable hand clutched between her fingers is going to be her last.

conveniently, there's an open seat beside her, and when the shouts of angry gamblers echo on the other side of the room, there's a door whose bouncer is suddenly missing open just enough to let a curious passer-by sneak inside. maybe someone will come give her reason to cash in her winnings … or just encourage her to dig herself in a little deeper.

after all, what's so bad about winning? hermes would approve. annabeth just hopes her mother would, too. )

03. NETWORK / INBOX

[Bad username or site: annabeth @ chase]
I can't tell if my neighbors are trying to send me dirty messages via Morse code or if they're just enthusiastic.

( did she mean to send that to you? is it the middle of a conversation that's already in progress? who knows. roll with it. )

04. WILDCARD

( self-explanatory. )

( fear factor )

[ripstides]

( annabeth. percy knows that sound like he knows the universe comes to a grinding halt without her; familiarity comes from standing back-to-back on a battlefield with the odds stacked against them, from his nightmares every time she goes over a cliff, and when she’s furious—so mad he thinks this time, this is the time she finally realizes her mistake in letting him live this long. he doesn’t care that he’s in the middle of a conversation or that he’s being rude ( hi, have you met him? ). annabeth screams and he’s out of his seat before he can grab a weapon. he’s not used to having to look for one. he tears down the hallway, barely avoiding bodychecking fellow displaced out of the warpath.

maybe if he stopped to think, he’d shoot her a message via implant but percy’s not used to that either.

he catches her by the shoulders when he sees her, slowing her momentum, regardless of how hard she impacts his wrists or slams into him. ) Annabeth. Hey. Hey, ( one reassuring squeeze of her biceps coming right up ) it’s me.

( limbs? check. open wounds? not that he can see. anyone chasing her? that’s a no. puzzled, deeply concerned, adrenaline a steady hum in his veins, he steps around her to backtrack to the entry of the common showers room. )

What happened? Did someone . . . Is something in there?

abigail hobbs 🗡️ nbc's hannibal

[ex_defenestratings377]

♙ EXPLORE THE CHANGES ( cw: past injuries )

[ the indignity of having her hair cut is the worst part of it all. there are many violations, but the hair becomes abigail's sticking point. she is missing an ear, the scar nearly across her throat is healed but still so obvious against her porcelain skin, both features of her past she could disguise with a dark curtain of hair. now on display for the world at large. she tries to maneuver a scarf around her head to cover her ear, then a woolen hat that itches. she'll suffer to disguise her disfigurement.

reminiscent of a skittish cat, she shies away whenever anyone gets too close, though too close for abigail seems to be a fairly wide birth, wide blue eyes cautious. it's a fair guess that she knows about the empathy bond and is not intent on ever activating it.

she doesn't settle, too distrusting, and she never seems to eat in the safehouse, but she makes a bed for herself in a dim corner. it's neat and she returns to it each night, even if sleep never seems to come easy. ]

♙ ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES

[ she eyes the food trucks warily, a wariness that applies to every type of food, shaking her head at any and all offerings with a quiet ] No, thank you.

[ the idea of subsisting on air alone is an appealing thought but eventually she settles on a veggie plate. lettuce, carrots, parsnips, brussels sprouts, snow peas; all raw. there can be no doubt these are vegetables and only vegetables. nothing but vegetables.

she eats and walks, stepping to the other side of the street from the booths highlighting vr war games. a flock of hooting and hollering teenage boys celebrating their victory over the ai finally draws a reaction, a sneer of disgust. ]

Stupid.

♙ WILDCARD

( make something up! )

[ripstides]

Common misconception. It's Percy, actually. ( sorry for your loss, abigail, because he's here to waste your hecking time. or make a friend? obviously he's hoping to branch out and score some companionship out of the words, but not everyone feels that way. not everyone enjoys the word-making. )

...Hi. ( he doesn't offer his hand for a shake ( what are they, old??? ) but he does hold it up in some approximation of a wave. it's a classic case of wrong place, wrong time and he assumes she's not calling him stupid. he's going for funny or at least ridiculous but he'll accept other interpretations. ) Is it the vegetables? Pretty sure I've had this same discussion with a plate of cauliflower before.

tony stark | marvel 616

[voicelog]

EXPLORE THE CHANGES
► or maybe let's not

[ fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

okay, okay, don’t panic, tony. assess the situation first: r.t. node, uncompromised. extremis, still active. iron man suit, not where he last kept it. good news, he isn't seconds away from going into cardiac arrest. bad news, his suit isn't where he last kept it, which is was, for the record, within the hollows of his bones. how the fuck does someone lose an entire suit that's stored inside of his body? no, they must have taken it — more precisely, extracted it, but— how?

maybe the same way that they fucked with his head and his sternum— a neural implant that he can scan and access immediately and something else that sends a disconcerting wave of indescribable something in him that falls along the lines of how the hell did they not kill me? and what the fuck did they do to me?

calm down, tony. this isn't your first kidnapping. think of where you were last.

he was with pepper, wasn't he? oh god, pepper—

no, no. don't jump to the worst conclusion yet. they have no reason to take her. she isn't the one with too many enemies to count and then some. but there are other people here too, aren't there? none that stirs up any recognition in him. no point in seeking answers from them. they're just as confused as he is — and now who the hell are they?

○ SAFEHOUSE— well, he is all caught up. sort of. he milked argued reasonably pressed as much as he could from the morningstar agents. (he definitely got on their last nerves, which is just as well because he is even more annoyed with them.) no luck on the whereabouts of his suit, so that leaves him with a network he has been going through for the past few hours and new modifications to his body that he is supposed to simply accept and adjust to. (that is gonna take more than a day.) but despite how much of a bad mood he's in, he is willing to talk and help anyone who needs help — not that there is much he can do at this point besides a semi-comforting word or two.

○ EMPATHY BOND— hands to yourself, please. someone isn't enjoying the additional intrusion. it's like adding salt to an open wound. now, he can't even bump into somebody without an accidental exchange of emotions? yeah, hard pass. he isn't interested in swapping feelings. can someone point him in the direction of the nearest shop with gloves for sell? he would rather not afflict anyone with the array of negative emotions coursing through him at the moment: annoyance, anger, and a fuck ton of anxiety.

○ NETWORK— he won't be posting to it, but hey, if you want to try your hand at messaging tony.stark, you might get an actual reply in return. ]

ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES
► AKA the pursuit of intel, coffee and doughnuts

[ learning the history of resolution day didn’t take long. it went by more quickly than scrolling through dozens of conversations and online sources anyway. with extremis in his system on top of the neural implant, multitasking is a breeze for him, so even while he is exploring the festive and crowded streets of the city, he is doing a multitude of things at once — continuing his research both online and off. he doesn’t like feeling behind. there has been far too much catching up going on his life ever since he woke up from a self-induced vegetative state with a few years of missing memories. not the best feeling in the world when you have to find out captain america “died” in the newspaper during a war you were apparently deeply involved in — or that one of your best friends also lost his life in the middle of it, leaving his wife a widow.

what a fucking mess.

—and now he is in the future on an earth that might not even be his own. he is a little tired of alternate universes and time travel, but he never gets much of a say, does he? the very least they can do is give a guy a warning. maybe leave him a note next time, so he can pencil it in: cross-dimensional travel scheduled for 17:00 THURS. warning: side effects include grogginess, unsanctioned implants, anxiety-induced nausea and loss of bleeding edge armor.

○ FOOD TRUCKS— would someone be able to tell a guy where he can get a box of doughnuts and a cup pot of coffee? as much as he is enjoying the lineup of culturally diverse cuisine available, he could use a glazed doughnut and caffeine. lots of caffeine. of course, his pursuit of these two items won't stop him from taste-testing some tacos and a few other more peculiar delicacies. (nothing too outrageous though. he would like to walk away with a happy stomach.)

○ NETWORKING— with a semi-full stomach and debatably useful knowledge on a futuristic past war, tony is ready to get back to business. he needs to gather more intel as well as figure out a way to get his hands on more advanced tech. he has a new suit to build after all. unfortunately, he doubts that he can acquire the components and tools needed to recreate model 37, but he could at least make something close to it. fortunately, he is nothing if not gifted at winning over corporate execs and charming the ever-loving hell out of high-class socialites. he can even do it all with a half-finished glass of club soda in hand. it won’t be long before he gets what he wants. ]

GO NUTS
► scraps, traps and random crap

[ wild card! come bug this guy with a glowing blue light in his chest. nothing can possibly go wrong. shoot me a pm for any questions and/or ideas! ]

you know, the thing and the place

[evite]

[ the message comes in the middle of the night, when all normal, reasonable people are asleep. does she know alternate universe tony stark has decided to show up and make his presence known? for the purposes of this tdm, she does not. ]

hello, god? are you there? it's me, daisy johnson, agent of shield
building your fucking suit is killing me
please call me back

raven reyes | the 100

[rpms]

> ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ

◉ ᴇᴍᴘᴀᴛʜʏ ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ

[ Raven is getting herself acclimated, adjusted, to this whole new world, vastly different from anything she has known before. Culture shock, that what Raven was experiencing. Even so, she kept going forward and onward. Like she always did.

But she wasn’t looking ahead of herself, she was looking up at the skyscrapers, the tall buildings that nestled against one another, all looking a little cramped. And that’s when she accidentally brushes her hand against someone else's, simultaneously triggering a wave of emotions crashing right through her. Emotions that obviously aren’t her own, somehow they felt like they were - just very misplaced. ]

What the hell, [ Raven breathes out. ]

◉ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴄᴋꜱ

[ It’s her turn and Raven steps forward, a slight hitch to her stride. She’s looking up at the overhead menu.

I would like, Raven drawled, squinting at the selections. ] Three chicken tacos. [ Finally making her decision. The very first bite was heavenly. She closes her eyes, a satisfied smile across her face and hums approvingly. ] Holy shit, that’s good.

> ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ voice message: un: reyes.raven

Is there a Bellamy, Echo, Emori, Harper, Monty or a Murphy?

emori | the 100

[jaka]

> ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ

◉ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ

[ In a new place, sleep is difficult for Emori. Bolting upright every time she heard the faintest of sounds. She is used to this alertness, ever since the day she was born, Emori needed to be adaptable, attentive, and self-preserving.

At some point, in the early hours of the morning, Emori finally falls asleep. Dreaming is the easy part, she always dreamt and almost always remembered a great amount of detail of them. Her dreams were just that vivid.

She’s above the city, looking down at it from the sky. It may have been night but the light brightens the city as though it were day. Emori floats, slowly coasting through the air, when she halts. In front of her is someone else. ]

The city is kind of beautiful in a way, [ She says to the person. ]

◉ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴄᴋꜱ

[ Food, that’s not algae! She has gone to a few of them, sampling all sorts of cuisine and culture. Emori has yet to eat something that she did not like.

Currently, she’s shamelessly stuffing pink clouds into her mouth. It is what she assumed clouds would taste. Softy, airy and so much sugar. It melts right into her mouth in sugary sweetness. ]

I can eat this all day, [ she declares, putting more cotton candy into her mouth. ]

> ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ text: un: emori

am i hallucinating from monty’s algae?