[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

[pullsheavendown]

"Dandy...right."

He tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice. For a moment there, this guy had looked so out of it that Roxas had wondered if he'd been pulled for the first time just now. But then the sarcasm came, and he was sure that wasn't the case. There wasn't enough confusion for that.

"I'm all right." He shrugged. "Kind of sick, but I can handle it." He cast a glance around, as if a familiar landscape would suddenly present itself. "Where are we? Do you have any idea?"

[darwin_watts]

Where were they? Oh yes he knew. He knew exactly where they were. he was standing on the hidden hatch after all, off to the side of that squash patch.

"Ever heard of Missionworth?" He asked at first, because perhaps that would be easier. Because that was where this was, he was sure of it. He knew this farm. He knew this landscape. He'd watched it grow up, changing names from time to time as he did.. But he knew this place.

[pullsheavendown]

"Yeah," he said, still looking around, as if a familiar skyline would present itself. "The lighthouse, right?"

He'd never paid it much attention, but he knew his landmarks after more than two years. But there was something else, right? He frowned to himself for a moment. The name had come from somewhere else originally...

[darwin_watts]

"Good lad. That's at least in the right direction." He turned, taking a moment to look, then pointed, leaning in a bit to say "and that lighthouse is that way, over that small rise, past the cliffs. And this here? This is a few feet away from third base, over there? A crumbled old hotel turned apartment. Getting the picture, or do you think I'm mad?"

He drew back again, kicking a small squash to the side, hands shoved into his pockets. There was too much to think about and not enough brain space to do it all in.

[pullsheavendown]

"What?" He looked down, then off to the side, then back to the guy. "What are you talking about? How can they be..."

He trailed off, a strange feeling running down his back. Roxas wasn't sure he wanted to know what he was getting at, but he also didn't think he was mad, for some reason. That didn't leave a lot of good possibilities.

[darwin_watts]

"I'm talking about the city, kid. Siren's Port? It was originally called Missionworth. Inexpiable things happened in Missionworth. That lighthouse was named after something, after all."

He glanced around, waving a hand around him. "You're on the island, but it's dark. See anything wrong with this picture?" He ran a hand through his hair, thinking perhaps it would be easier to round everyone up and explain it all at once, but then again it might be better if they don't know. Why were they even here? This wasn't right at all.

[pullsheavendown]

That was right. Siren's Port, Missionsworth, all the same place. He remembered that now, having read it somewhere along the line. Except it didn't make sense.

"How can that be? It doesn't look like it did. Where did everything go?" If they were on the baseball field, he should be able to see the field. If this was still Siren's Port, it should be an easy walk home, and on sidewalk. Except..

"No..." he said. The city didn't go anywhere, did it?" He looked around as if he could see something this time that wasn't there before. "We did."

[darwin_watts]

At least the boy was smart. That was what he liked about some of the newcomers, they were smart. Brilliant people who ended up in a bad situation. It wasn't their fault that the city didn't like them.

"What the Core wants, it gets." he said with a shrug. He tended to be a firm believer that things on this level of bad is a Blame the Core problem. "But you're right. The City didn't go anywhere. This is what it looked like before."

his foot tapped a metal and stone hard spot in the ground, half covered in dirt. He frowned and explained. "I don't remember exactly when we built this hatch, but it can't be before 1916. But there's no way it's after 1918. I just don't... know what month it is." And that is important.

[pullsheavendown]

"How do you know what year it is? How old are you?"

Roxas squinted at him, as if that might produce answers. Here was someone who knew what had happened to them, except not really—he acted just as lost as the rest of them, for all that he claimed to know where they were.

"Who are you?"