sirenspull_logs | December Arrivals- OPEN LOG

Entry tags:

December Arrivals- OPEN LOG

Who: December Arrivals, Greeters, NPC recruiters & anyone else who happens to be hanging around the Tower Apartments to 'welcome' newcomers.
When: Throughout December, 2012 (Please Specify Date & Time in Thread Header)
Where: The Sector 4 Baseball Diamond, Parking Lot & Lobby of the Tower Apartments
Summary: This is your catch-all one stop log for arrival interactions! New Newcomers can also meet and mingle in the apartment lobby.
Warnings: Nausea, potential for violence, language- add on any warnings or ratings as they come up.

It feels like a whiplash, like being plucked up into the sky and sucked through a very tight dark space before being deposited rather roughly in the City. You will be disoriented, dizzy, slightly nauseous, and very sore upon arriving in Siren's Port. Every new arrival from another world gets deposited in the dead center of an ill-kept baseball diamond.

The weather is chilly in December, and while new arrivals may be lucky enough to arrive during the safety of the day, the danger of nights are growing steadily longer. Pedestrian traffic is hurried and bustling, particularly in the hour before siren.

Newcomers are thrown from their pull somewhere within the fenced-in baseball field, either in the dirty infield or tossed rolling into the overgrown dirty outfield. Standing on second base and facing home plate, one will see a rotten, old and deteriorating backstop and chain link fencing, much like any little league baseball field. Broken down bleachers made of worn out green painted wood can be seen in disarray behind this, and some old trees line the wall and fencing along the right side.

To the left is a walled in Dugout with a secured door. The dugouts are made of thick concrete and set low into the earth. This one has been outfitted as a safe place to enter during the night to hide and wait out the morning. The dugout interior is lit with a string of Christmas Lights by night, and contains a box of coats, an electric kettle and a box of Hot Cocoa packets, provided courtesy of the Newcomer Community Center. Sometimes Greeters can be found here, waiting for people to show up. The Dugout to the right has also been cemented over and secured with a heavily guarded and armored door.

Some of the fences and signboards have been replaced with information and welcoming signs, posted by Newcomers as encouragement, but from time to time some form of degrading graffiti'd tag might appear here or there, 'Go Home!' or 'Now You're Fucked, Newmeat' 'Welcome to Sirens Port, Population: Too Many to Add One More' and 'Attention Newcomers: Please wait here till sunset sirens to receive your welcoming package!') However, someone has also recently decorated the fence with silver and gold garlands.

The Baseball Diamond is maintained by the city Government, who allow greeters access to the infield to retrieve new arrivals, but preserve the area's neutrality. Everyday citizens and corporate affiliates are not allowed access to the diamond. The small building constructed over the right dugout is still guarded heavily by government-controlled Voids, to block public access to the Core. Those who cooperate with greeters will be treated fairly and be given helpful information, lead to the Tower Apartments and offered a month's lodging. Those who put up a fight will be met with Voids and detained by police.

Just beyond the fence, in the Tower Apartments parking lot and lobby, SERO and AGI recruiters will be passing out informational leaflets presenting company propaganda, including discounted coupon booklets and travel-sized toiletries as a "Newcomer Welcome Package".

Other then the lights around the Core dugout, there is one single electric light above home plate that remains on, even in the Darkness. There is an open walkway near the dugouts that leads into the parking lot of the Tower Apartments. The front doors of Tower One are always kept unlocked, but you had best close them again quickly if you slip inside during the night. The office of the Landlord is well marked near the lobby, and you'll receive keys there.

The second tower is abandoned and boarded up, still scorched in places. Asking around, you might hear about the anti-newcomer movement and an attempt to blow up both towers back in January. You'll be advised not to go wandering in there- it's no doubt structurally unsound, though the first tower still stands tall and (mostly) functioning.

The general atmosphere in the city is tense and full of mood whiplash this month- the darkness is longer and the nights may seem claustrophobic. The Underground Mall is a packed escapist paradise on the weekends, with overnight stays at the many motels popular. Conspiracy theorists and doomsday preachers seem to be found on every streetcorner, and they seem to have more of a presence than charity-collection "Santa's Helpers". Retail stores seem doubly desperate to rake in holiday profits during daylight business hours, and competition between the companies is mounting as the year comes to a raucous close.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They won't be.

[She beckons instead, intending to touch his elbow when he gets close enough and guide him that way.]

Will you come in?

[He considers her, for what seems like forever, but eventually takes a tentative step toward her. What else could he do? He's alone, and knows no one. He has to take a chance, and so he does.]

Alright.

Okay. [She smiles gently, trying not to betray how scared she is.

She guides him towards the building easily. They're almost halfway to the Towers before she remembers that she's a Greeter, and there's a spiel.]

I take it you don't know where you are?

[He lets her touch his elbow to guide him, but it lights up every nerve in agitation and sets him on edge for some reason he doesn't understand; it has nothing to do with her--he doesn't think she'll hurt him--but he can't stop the anxious tension. So he ignores it, instead.

At her question, he gives a tiny shake of his head.]

[Of course not. She swallows her distress and gives him a gentle look.]

Okay, well-

[She belatedly notices his look (slash remembers how Cas gets) and pulls her hand away.]

Oh, I'm sorry, I know you don't like that.

[Back to business.]

Basically, you're in an alternate dimension. This city is on an island, both named Siren's Port. People come here from dozens of different universes, including you and me. We're actually from the same place.

[He's silent, listening, and it sounds crazy but at the same time, how can he judge? Maybe this is normal. What would he know?]

You know me, then?

[He comment about him disliking to be touched indicates that, and it's almost funny that she knows that but he doesn't.]

We are from the same world?

[Every confused question is a little worse than the last one, but Mary firmly clamps down on it and shoves that sadness where the rest of her sadness and fear (and, yes, fresh grief for Castiel, just a day old) goes: repressed so she can blow up at someone later.

She has to be soothing now.]

Yep. You're from years in the future, though.

[They reach the building and she lets him in the back way, a dingy little stairwell.]

I think you're from 2011, unless something changed.

[He sticks close to her as they enter the building, nervously curling his fingers to brush them against the ends of his coat sleeves as some weak outlet for the tension.]

You're not?

[And a pause.]

If I am from the future, did we meet only here? How long have I been here?

[He suddenly gets the sense this isn't his first day, by far.]

[Mary starts up the stairs, pausing on the second step to make sure she isn't just charging off without him. It's only one flight up.]

Ah- actually, I don't know. You've been here longer than me, that's over a year.

[Later she can look through Network archives and see if she can find the first time his NV ever made a post. Gabriel would have the answer, but she suspects he has a few other things on his mind right now.]

I'm from 1983.

[They get off at the second floor.]

What happened? Did I strike my head?

[That's how people get amnesia, right? He indeed follows her up the stairs, though it's more aimlessly than purposeful, and it's for the best that it's just one floor up.]

Uh... No, I don't think so.

[So so not answering that question. She stops in front of her apartment door and unlocks it.]

Here we are- my place.

[Her apartment is considerably nicer than the dingy, run-down rest of the building (including the hallway). She reaches in and flips open a wallpapered-over plate on the wall that resembles a light switch plate- breaking the wallpaper sigil that lets angels come in here. It's quick enough that he might not notice.

She doesn't let him in just yet.]

Can you just say on the mat? You're... dripping. I'll get a towel and something to put your coat in.

[He definitely doesn't notice, quiet at her question, then looks down at his clothes and nods silently. He can wait there.]

[While Mary's gone, the cat hops off the back of the couch and strolls up to him, followed by another (bright blue) one slinking from deeper in the apartment. They approach Cas cautiously at first, sniffing at him and the blood and black goo dripping on the carpet over and over before one rubs against his legs and the other headbutts his leg gently, and his hand if he'll pet her.

Mary comes back with a garbage bag in hand and a large dark green towel over her shoulder, and points at the cats, shooing them inside.]

Hey, get in there- you met them, huh? It looks like they remember you. Now let's get this thing off.

[She indicates his now-disgusting coat and holds the garbage bag open for him.]

[The blueness of the second cat confuses him a bit, but they're clearly harmless and some part of him is drawn immediately to the animals. He lets them decide they like him before reaching to pet the one that is doing the headbutting, then the other.

As Mary returns and they run back inside Castiel straightens back up, considering the bag she's holding for a moment before beginning to pull of his coat, awkwardly and a bit stiffly. Something feels wrong about parting with it, but he doesn't know why and it's completely destroyed, so there's no reason not to take it off.

His clothes underneath aren't any better, white shirt stained completely red and black, though he isn't sure how. He's not injured anywhere, and he would have had to a lose a lot of blood for it to look like that... If the blood is even his.]

[The coat will be fine. There's a laundromat Mary likes that uses magic, for a price.

Her eyes go very wide at his shirt and she doesn't quite hide her gasp.]

Oh my god. [ASdkljfdg no.] Just- okay, get that off too. You can borrow some of my husband's clothes.

[Realistically they'll be left over from the various times Sam or Dean have lived or stayed here, but w/e. She just wants that thing out of her site. The instant the ruined clothes are in the bag she's wrapping the towel around his shoulders with one hand and her telekinesis as fast as she can, and beckoning him inside where it's warm.]

Okay. That's better.

[Her mind is reeling. How does he not remember what happened? God, it's so much blood, it reminds her of when she died in the Hunt. Time to tie up the garbage bag and ditch it on the floor.]

[He nods, slowly, and does as he's told, undoing his tie and pulling off his suit coat and the white shirt. For a moment he wonders about them--is he a businessman or something like that?--but then he's holding the towel around his shoulders and stepping into the apartment. There's still a lot of blood on him, particularly on his neck and his hands, and as he reaches to adjust the towel he realizes it's in his hair, too.]

Perhaps I did hit my head.

[He wonders it mostly to himself, touching the slightly sticky but mostly dried mess that's all over the back of his head.]

[She looks at him with concern, and throws a second towel over a chair.]

Maybe. Here, sit down. I want to make sure you're okay.

[God - hah, no, Chuck only knows what injuries he might have or pains he's carrying around. Coming back from the dead here can be horrible.]

[He sits as asked, awkward and nervous and tense again for some reason he still doesn't get. He isn't injured, physically, anywhere; he just feels sick and weak and sore all over which is confusing, as he doesn't have any idea why. Not being able to remember anything is the most disorienting experience.]

I don't think I'm hurt.

[Despite the idea about hitting his head. It's the only theory that makes sense and maybe he's just missing an injury there.]

Can you humor me?

[She comes closer and touches his forehead gently, vaguely wondering about fever or- anything weird really. The gesture unwittingly echoes the last time Someone did that.

There's no fever. No bruises that she can see. She touches Cas' chin to get him to look up at her and looks at his eyes carefully. She's definitely no doctor, but she knows from hunting how to look for a concussion.]

How do you feel? Any headache? Are your ears ringing?

[The touch to his forehead makes something in his heart twist for a moment, but like everything else it's a mystery to him why. He lifts his chin obligingly, staring up a Mary, and shakes his head just slightly.]

No. I just feel... Weak. Nauseous.

[Out of place. Unsteady and confused and like there's some terrible sense of dread hanging over him.]

[She frowns. That still sounds like a concussion.]

Why don't you get cleaned up?

[There's a handlebar in the shower, put there because people get injured every other day here and you just never know.]

You might feel better when you have some time to think and wash all this horror off.

[He pulls the towel a little closer again, nervously, but nods. He wants all the blood and the black stuff off of him, even if something about the idea of water unsettles him and he wants to just be able to hide in a corner for awhile and not be bothered.

But instead he manages to stand up, waiting there awkwardly for her to direct him where to go.]

[She points him in the direction of the bathroom.]

I'll dig up some clothes and shove them through the door, okay? There's an extra towel on the door.

[Once he's busy doing that, Mary immediately lets out a shuddering breath and all but collapses on the couch, hands shaking. Jesus, this might actually be one the most surreal, kind of awful experiences of her life, if only for sheer weirdness. She wants to think she didn't just let a monster use her shower, but can't be sure.

Then again, the monster Sam described didn't sound like Cas at all. The man in the bathroom definitely sounds and even moves like him, with at least a few of the same little hang-ups. Which leaves some weird possibilities. Oh, god. Amnesia, a blow to the head, some kind of strange magical thing. Maybe this is something that happened at home- but if that were the case, he'd show up looking like he did at home, not looking like the result of a horrific death here.

She leaves a message on Crowley's NV while he's showering, sends Magneto a text about her medication refill (for the love of God), and makes two drinks by the time he's out.]

[He figures out how to work the shower, even if the entire thing is more than slightly awkward, and spends some time washing the blood off of himself and out of his hair. He doesn't know what the black stuff is, but he knows it makes him sick to his stomach to see it mix with the water, though he has no idea why.

After he's dried off and changed into the clothes she'd slipped through the door, he steps out of the bathroom tentatively and awkwardly, gaze downcast at the carpet and everything about him withdrawn. He's coming out of his shock now, and everything is starting to weigh on him; it's amazing how heavy it all is even though he only remembers a few hours.]

Mary?

[She sits up, her drink in hand.]

Hi. [Glance.] You look great. A lot better.

[Not great, exactly, but at least something approaching alive now. She sets her drink own and sits up further, ready to stand if he needs help for some reason.]

How do you feel?

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