Last Arrival Mods

4th Walling Allowed: Sure, why the hell not?
Rating Limits: None
Extra Notes: Most likely a medium ~~because I hate her~~ for fun. She's been spending the last ten years in captivity/prison essentially being forced to work on a project that will bring about the apocalypse and also fucked up by Lovecraftian deities. So yeah, she's totally sane.

Loki walks carefully through the streets, her feet carrying her while her mind flutters from thought to to anxious thought, unable to keep any one thing in her head for too long. Her hands are shaking a little, still unnerved by this whole thing, but unsure of what else to do.

She winds her way around people, careful not to touch (never touch, cant'. touch) as her eyes dart around her. She might look shifty to a stranger, her arms curled around her, eyes trying ot see everything at once and take in the world.

In her defense, freedom was all but forgotten. She hardly remembers the world outside and her own paranoia is screaming that this is going to end horribly. That she'll get pulled back into the dark again, that there's nothing here but it's all actually an illusion.

Whether it's real or not though, she's going to keep walking, keep moving letting her body remember what it's like to not be captive. Her movements are awkward but feeling freedom after so long in a cage would leave anyone a bit off.

Edited Date: 2018-03-08 07:39 pm (UTC)

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It probably says something rather unkind about Noa that his first reaction to the strange woman (well, one of the strange women-- there are so many strange people these days) passing by Tipping the Velvet goes something like yes. Unequivocally yes. She is the very picture of what's been selling to a lot of the newcomers, pretty but rough around the edges, probably hungry.

He doesn't make a point of approaching potential new employees, but then again, he hasn't needed to.

He considers one more moment before he tosses the keys to Luna and jogs down the street without a word.

"Pardon me, but you do look lost," he calls once he gets about two yards off from her footsteps.

(OOC: Sorry not sorry.)

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Feet forward, head forward one two, one tow. If she forgets how tot walk, she's never getting anywhere, she'll fall back into the dark, she'll--

Voices. Voices at her. A voice. One. Talking.

Loki turns around, the somewhat glazed expression on her face turning a bit more focused as she studies him. "I don't know," she says, her voice soft. "I'm still--...I think I'm new here."

Sometimes her memory fails her, sometimes she forgets when an hour isn't an hour but three weeks at a time. Sometimes the world gets too distorted to keep track.

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Whoever she is, she looks a bit further out of it than Noa expected. It's nothing uncommon for the City, for his customers, for some of his staff over the years. It's almost as much a fact of his life.

He straightens his back out and does his best to look confident. This might be slightly more effective if the woman didn't have a few inches on him, but so it goes.

"Well, you're hardly alone if you are. Perhaps you'd like somewhere to sit down and think? My business is closed at the moment, so it's quieter than out here."

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"Your business." She says the words like she's tasting them, trying them on for size before she offers a slow nod, stepping closer to him.

It's something about that body language, something about the way he holds himself that rings in her brain as well, not trustworthy but at least someone who knows what they'redoing. She used to be able to look like that but the ideas as to how are lost along with so many other things.

"Where is it?"

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"Right this way," says Noa, gesturing and then setting off just a touch slower than he would usually move. He's a bit surprised that this was so uncomplicated and with that comes a thread, a snibble of guilt. No more than that though and tempered with his mind racing-- did one of the employees remember to start something in the kitchen?

He can certainly do it himself, just as certainly as he can smile over his shoulder. "How shall I introduce you to my staff?"

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She follows behind and, as she walks, she finds herself mimicking the way he moves, stepping in time with him until they reach the place. It's only a physical act though, her demeanor beyond that is still scattered and shaky at best.

"Loki." She says her name with an air of nervousness, like she's waiting to get punished for the answer. Admitting who she was hardly did her any favors before now but she struggles to come up with a better, or even more convincing lie.

There's a part of her that says going off with strange men is probably not the best idea she's ever had but, then again, going with the people she's known has proven far worse than anything a stranger has done to her, so what does she know?

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onlytheremains

4th Walling Allowed: Yes
Rating Limits: None
Extra Notes: I'm pulling him between Winter Soldier and Civil War, so yeah. Still trying to get his shot together, pretty much.

He walks through the market, watching people as they go about their business. He's still new, still learning and gathering information, but he thinks he can make this work. It's strange to feel optimistic about something but somehow it feels better than where he was.

Whatever this is, whatever the hell is going on, it's different and that is at least better than nothing.

He's not going to try and get anything out of anyone, not yet, but he's willing to talk to people who catch his interest, and maybe barter a little labor for something useful. He's good for only a few things but he is excellent at them and will do what he must to make sure that he can keep surviving.

Ducking between a couple of the stalls, he takes a moment to gather himself. There should be a plan, he know she needs to sort out how he's going to get by and what he needs, but he also knows that he needs to talk to people, gather more intel, and that idea makes his stomach turn a little.

Being optimistic doesn't take away the fact hat he still isn't entirely sure how the fuck to be a person anymore.

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4th Walling Allowed: Sure
Rating Limits: *Mun looks at her WiP Pile* Uh, that'd be none.
Extra Notes: Please do whatever your heart desires.

The new arrivals left Siebenkäs with a kind of dreamy, distant nostalgia. He knew he had once lived somewhere with a thousand, maybe even ten thousand, times the people of The City. Firefly swarms of lights down towards the apartments, crushes of voices and bodies at the market, even jostling for seats at bars-- they all reminded him. He could almost see the reflection of Asil 9 against them, also distant, but so clear down to the streetcorners where he'd waited once. It was the why that got away from him.

The old why, anyway. In the present, the newcomers all had their own ideas about what was rightly done in a place such as they had come too. This didn't change the fact there was only one Greenland, one river, one way to keep most of them out of the gutters.

It would have to be most. He sat at one of two rickety outdoor tables at a cafe serving something which was possibly chicory, but tasted more like spicy mud. A few of the workers from the fort were doing their best to bring a cart through a crowd of onlookers. The body inside had leaked red through two blankets and for a moment as it rattled past, the soapy sweet smell of death blotted out the dusty warmth of the streets.

Siebenkäs turned away. He regarded his cup, dumped about half of his flask into it and went back to reading that afternoon's collection of politcal pamphlets.

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nobodyknowstheway

Saturday walks like she owns the world. She moves with grace that comes with centuries of learning how to move in just the right way and, when she sees him siting there, his drink in hand, she smiles

She's got no good reason to be intrigued other than the potential to swipe a drink off the guy but Saturday is one to roll with her whims and today is no different.

"hello," she says, grinning with more teeth than is strictly needed. "You look lonely. Care for some company?"

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(OOC: Well played.)

Oh, she walks and she moves and she certainly does own someone's world that afternoon. Siebenkäs's mind skips; cuts out and comes down. He remembers, but then again, he absolutely doesn't, not in a way where he could cough up words to describe how or why or what.

There is no one to match this person in his memories, just here and just right then. And there's something weirdly freeing about the change of pace. He puts the flier he's been working through aside and smooths it against the tabletop. "Ah, yes," he manages and shoves the second chair out from under the table with the toes of his boot.

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nobodyknowstheway

Oh, wonderful! She takes the offered seat, stretching out and seeming to somehow take up much more space than her small frame would seem to be able to occupy. She's a big presence, even now, even stripped down to bare bones of what she had once been.

"I was curious," she starts, reaching out and brushing the tip of her finger against his glass. "What's on the menu? Anything worth drinking or is it all swill?"

Her sister, Friday, would drink anything, she'd get drunk of cheap wine and cheaper hard stuff, but Saturday has always been a bit more discriminating.

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She's impressive whoever she is. Impressive that he really should be angling to figure out who she works for or what she wants out of the City at least. That level of finesse however eludes him in the moment.

"They have chicory and some infused water-- lemongrass and berry, I think," he mentions. "The chicory isn't bad." Although, anyone with a sensitive enough nose can probably smell the rotgut vapors coming off of his cup. He considers taking a sip, but pauses with his hands around the chipped china.

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nobodyknowstheway

She sniffs the air, considering what hse picks up, then nods. "I think I'll pass for now." She waves off the idea with one hand, then leans forward, watching him with bright eyes.

"You seem like you've got something on your mind." She tilts her head just a little, grin still etched on her face. "I'll trade you, if you're interested. A little tit for tat?"

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"Eh," Siebenkäs manages after a few slow, grinding moments. He glances out over the street, to the path of the long-gone cart and all the people swirling; he thinks better of it and turns back-- better not to take his eyes off of this person.

A soft swallow and he mostly recovers himself.

Mostly.

"I was trying to get caught up on my reading for work. It's not very engaging. So, I'm happy for a distraction. You?"

He chances a sip of the chicory.

Or what was possibly maybe chicory, but is now about 90 proof.

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nobodyknowstheway - Date: 2018-03-11 04:06 am (UTC) - Expand

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4th Walling Allowed: Sure
Rating Limits: Ziiiiiip
Extra Notes: I'm always a slut for angst.

The streets of this new town were something she should've been a bit more worried about. But someone like her, she didn't worry about much anymore. She'd learned what it meant to be alone, so being in an unfamiliar place. Well---- Sorta familiar. She'd been here for a few weeks. Not as long as some people, but long enough to have found a place here.

No. Apparently she'd made quite the name for herself since her arrival. Several of the people at the place she considered her work place ( a brothel of all things ) had wormed their way in, becoming her family. And well... her customers... They paid so they got what they wanted. Even if one or two of them had been thrown out of the penthouse for leaving unwanted bruises in places where bruises shouldn't be ( abusive fucks deserved it too ).

"Hey, boss. Ya got anything for me today?"

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Noa leaned back on the stool he had taken up at the bar, craning his head back to get a good look at Keegan. "Oh, do I," he said, his voice glancing around on the words as he looked her straight in the face and then pulled a packet of messenager-ferried papers out of his jacket.

He went on. "Let me see. Well, that nice woman you visited in the southern quarter last week is requesting, and I quote, more 'cherry sauce'. At your convinience, apparently. Someone from the fort pounded on the door asking for you at nine in the morning. Said his name was Jake. Looked about eighteen. Fled from Minene of all people. I don't know if you want to follow up on that or not. There's this note about a broken vase which wasn't signed. Mr. Jun has been messaging me all morning. I believe he may need a spanking."

Noa laced his fingers together and sighed. "Also, there's no coffee and the snot from the Urban Liberation Army gave Jherick a hell of a black eye last night. Said snot is on seventy-two hour hold at the moment, but..."

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Keegan dropped a laugh, at the list of jobs that apparently enjoyed what they'd purchased. Well, if they were willing to pay again, she was more than willing to be the gift that kept on giving.

"April, she's not bad. Pays good. Considering what she asks." She pulled a tiny notebook from her own jacket and a pen, and started scrawling down dates and appointments.

"Wait...." She paused as he continued his list, "Jake?" She raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Will not be following up on that. If he comes back, tell him I died."

She continued making notes, a broken vase. Ahhh, she knew where that one came from. She knew she'd have to follow up on that eventually. Oops.

Her eyes narrowed as he continued. "So what you're telling me is that I need to go get some coffee, and then I need to fuck a guy up? Is that what you're saying, because I am more than in the mood to wreck a motherfucker this morning." She paused, "Is Jherick alright?"

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"She signed the letter with a W so..." Noa trailed off, staring into the impeccable handwriting, half listening to Keegan and half attempting to imagine a world where he was looking at an A. Some of the residents had brought the most fascinating capital letter styles with them, but this...

At fuck he returned his attention to Keegan, full force. "I am not telling you to do anything." he said gently, certain she had finished. "However, if you have a mind to dissaude this individual from coming within a mile of this establishment, I would appreciate your efforts. As for Jherick."

Jherick flopped down at a seat two down from Noa. His left eye was a flourescent black wreck, one swollen enough to turn his smile crooked. He flashed a peace sign nonetheless. "I've had worse. Man, you could taste those stars."

"What did they taste like?" Noa asked, rather blandly.

"Mostly what the fuck."

"I see."

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Keegan gave an almost crooked grin. "You've heard nothing, seen nothing, and know nothing. But I can promise you, he won't be back."

The fucker would be far too terrified of ever seeing her again to step foot anywhere near the Velvet again. She tended to have that effect on people who messed with her family.

As Jherick flopped down next to them, she looked him over. Dear God, that was one hell of a black eye. Her expression shifted. "You look like ass, bro."

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"Tragedy," moaned Jherick, still attempting to smile, though he was more wincing at that point. "I was hoping to look more like fuck. Then I at least could have gone to work tonight."

"I said," sighed Noa, "don't worry about it. Unless Hero comes by. He might be into that."

They each cast around on their stools, choosing to conclude on things long ago said.

"Anyway," Jherick swept his hand across the bar. "I might not be avalable for not being seen with you on account of the part where I don't have depth perception at the moment and for that I appologize. Pretend I'm winking."

"I think Luna's awake," Noa mused. "Minene's at least around. Some of the new hires." He gave Keegan a long, rather syrupy look. "I may not know anything about this, but after last time, I believe a second party may help preserve my ignorance."

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