[Anniversary Event Starting Log] I Awaken To Another Day...

[thepull_mods]

Who: Open Log! This means everybody!
When: September 1st, 1918. Dawn.
Where: Farmer Whitty's Squash Patch, City of Missionworth (Ye Olde... Baseball Diamond?)
Summary: Midnight on New Years Eve finds the entire Newcomer Community thrust backwards in time...oh, 95 years or so?
Warnings: A lot of potentially drunk people are about to land facefirst in a field. Once word is out that a small horde of strangers have mysteriously arrived on the island, Military Forces will be rounding them up for questioning. You be the judge of how badly this goes.



Whether right in the middle of a rowdy parties as toasts are raised with complementary champagne, or having a quiet evening at home on the couch, watching GloTV's annual Auld Lang Syne Countdown Extravaganza, a sickeningly familiar tug of a feeling suddenly wrenches in the gut of every Newcomer on the island who has been brought here by Pull in the past three years.

As fireworks sound over AGI tower and the clock finishes striking twelve, the world spins. For a dazzling colorful moment, flashing scenes from their stay in Port roll backwards like rewound film before their eyes. It becomes a blur, the Pull drawing tighter and tighter, ears might pop and there's a very good chance the contents of their stomachs might be turned out.

And then there is coolness, a brisk breeze, morning dew and damp earth beneath them all.

The newcomers are scattered across a planted field of winding vines and colorful gourds, which won't be ready for harvesting for another month or so. Several startled crows are circling overhead, screaming. There are no tall towers on the skyline, and there are more surrounding trees, particularly toward the western horizon- golds and oranges of early autumn.

To the east, a picturesque early 20th century settlement stretches to the island shoreline, already bustling with traffic and construction in the early dawn's light. There is no putrid, sick-sweet rotting smell which normally lingers for awhile in the morning fog, after the lifting of darkness.

Two young boys stand agape at the edge of the field for several moment, leaning over a fencepost, then turn and tear off towards a homestead not far away, shouting for their papa.

Welcome to the City of Missionworth. Look's like The Core's decided to give you all a history lesson for the New Year.

Comments

(open)

[debtor]

[And there's a kid lying on his stomach in the dirt, wearing tasteful striped pajamas.]

What the hell!?

[That was the rudest awakening ever. All Allen knows is that he was sound asleep in his bed one minute, and taking a horrifying, mind-bending, nauseous trip to a squash patch the next. NOT AMUSED.

The last time he felt like this, he'd found himself on a baseball diamond in a new world. Did that seriously just happen again!?]

[cruelties]

You're still here. [Vincent dryly observes from atop a haphazard crate. He has even less to be amused about-- he's not wearing a shirt, only some pants that have been quickly pulled on.

Three guesses what he was doing before he got here.]

[debtor]

[He startles and glances at this unfamiliar, immodestly-attired gentleman, as he pushes himself up.]

'Here'?

[cruelties]

The Port. [He beams.] Or are you one of the ones who's lost their memory?

[debtor]

This is the Port?

[So it's not another new world? Or home. Urgh...

Wait.]

...Who are you?

[cruelties]

I am Vincent Nightray. [His smile becomes wider.] So you have lost your memory.

[debtor]

[And his eyes widen. He's heard that name!]

Gilbert's brother?

[cruelties]

Younger. [Vincent inclines his head.] And you are Allen Walker.

[debtor]

[He doesn't bother confirming (or denying) it.

It's not the first time he's encountered someone he's forgotten. It's a bit unnerving, but there's nothing to be done about it. And all he knows about Vincent is that he's apparently a bit troublesome...]

He said you'd gone. When did you come back?

[cruelties]

A while ago. [He can be ambiguous too Allen. He sits back.]

My! But at least I have my memory. Though I imagine it's apparent to anyone we're in for some trouble again.

[debtor]

[He's certain it couldn't have been too long ago, but he doesn't press the matter. He turns his attention back to the field instead.]

Where in Port are we?

[This doesn't look like the city at all...!]

[moveslikestrider]

[For the most part, Dave looks like he usually does except he's wearing a black suit and ever more stoic faced than usual as he approaches from the east. He picks his way around produce and studies Allen.] Nice jammies, bro.

[But there's something different about him. He seems relaxed, more than he should be given the circumstances.]

[debtor]

[You look classy, Dave.]

Thanks.

[For his part, Allen doesn't appear to be in the greatest mood.]

Were we all pulled here?

[moveslikestrider]

Seems like it. [He circles the area the way cats do when finding something interesting.] If I tossed you weather handling clothes, would you pull them on? You're going to freeze in that shit.

[debtor]

Not if they're yours.

[No getting undressed for his sake, man.]

[moveslikestrider]

You have so little faith. Let the Sttrider introduce you to the sylladex. It's a handy thing I can carry around half a ton of shit and just go.

[He turns into the wind mutters something and grabs the air. He turns back to Allen with his broken record baseball long sleeve, and a pair of thick jeans.]

And we have lift off. Snag and I'll turn around to give you some privacy.

[debtor]

[He's too stunned by this recent development to worry about the logistics of changing in an open field. SYLLA-WHATS?]

—You can pull clothes out of thin air-!?

[moveslikestrider]

What? No, it’s the device containing my crap. Will you hurry up and shimmy your skinny ass into this? We have no idea what’s out here. [Well at least one of them can stay on task.] Also be careful when you zip up. I don’t know if you know, but getting caught in a zipper hurts like a bitch.

[debtor]

[Wh-- SPUTTERING.]

I'm not putting them on here!

[This squash patch is covered in Newcomers.]

[moveslikestrider]

You have underwear on right? Not like anyone is getting a look at the really important parts.

What's more important pride or not being a popsicle? [He shakes his head. He doesn't see the issue here.]

[reassures]

[Nill, unfortunately, was one of those people that had been drinking before all of this, and the pull was enough to make her feel pretty sick. She crushed a few squashes with her landing too, but it's hard to see that, given that she's dressed in the usual black outfit she wears out at night.

She's still trying to get her bearings when she hears someone familiar yelling, though in a much more disgruntled way than she's used to. So here Nill is, stumbling over to check on Allen, because having someone else around that she knows is too reassuring for her to pass up. She was worried for one horrifying moment that she wasn't in the port anymore, but that doesn't seem to be the case.]

Are you okay?

[debtor]

[He's on his feet by now, making a half-hearted attempt to brush off the squash patch dirt flecking the front of his pajamas. His eyes widen and he glances up when he 'hears' her.

Even though he's not unhappy to see here here too, he's clearly quite tired and confused, and now that he's been thrown into another strange new mess, his patience (and that outward gentility) is wearing a bit thin.

(It'd be a lie to say he hadn't been hoping the Core had tossed him home, finally. But so much for that.)]

Ah- Nill...

I'm fine. Are you?

[reassures]

[She can't really say she blames him for it. It looks like he'd actually been asleep when they got dragged here (she forgets sometimes that people she knows do that), and this was probably the rudest awakening possible. Especially if he thought that, maybe, he was finally out of the port.]

I'm fine, too.

[She looks a little green around the gills to be honest, but otherwise fine. Nill glances down, and brushes what remains of a squash off her pants.]

...Do you think this is still the island?

[debtor]

[He shrugs, glancing around the farmland at the other Newcomers, and at the settlement off in the distance. If this is Port, it's a part of the island he's never visited, and there's no sign of the skyline.]

I don't know. It's not familiar.

Why would the Core move us...?

[reassures]

Why does it do anything?

[Granted, she's sure there's a reason for at least some of the strangeness of the Core, but it's not like anyone has been able to pinpoint one.]

...If this is part of the Port, it's a place I've never been to-- but I was there for a long time.

[The 'voice' almost sounds uncertain. Nill has been to most places on the island at least once, actually - and this is much, much too quiet in comparison. Whatever this place is, the population of it is so much less than that of the city she's used to.]