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Intro Post

Welcome to Carlyle...

Waking Up

It's happening again. All around town. Maybe it's in the cereal aisle of the general store while no mothers with squalling children are traversing it. Maybe it's in the middle of the town's lonely graveyard, full of hundred-year-old graves in the middle of the night. Maybe in the local city hall restroom, eyes opening to a gaze-full of toilet paper, or in the town's settler museum full of wagon wheels and old farming paraphernalia.

There are still a few government workers milling around since the first influx. People in bland suits of various shades of grays and browns, nothing particularly impressive, but if they approach someone who doesn't seem to belong they'll bring them through the intake process. Though there's a chance that, instead, they'll meet a kindly marshall. Average middle-class white guy, a tall Midwesterner with some scruff and a formal uniform and a stocky build. He will discretely move them through if it's needed, make sure they have an ID and paperwork and phone and some concealing clothes if they have the body type that works for it. If they look special or like someone the government might want, he'll try to keep things on the down-low for them.

Better than to lose people again.

Getting Familiarized

When investigating the town, they'll find it with trace damage from the night before. Someone is replacing a door that has ax-marks in it. Another is rebuilding a fence, a crashed car ready to be towed away. And yet another person is filing an insurance claim with his agent, his shed completely burned down and the air closeby filled with the scent of settled smoke.

Most of the residents of Carlyle are friendly. If you stop and ask for directions, they'll give them. It's also a time of year in which there are lots of outsiders, on top of current events. Unfortunately, if anyone's dressed in an entirely unfamiliar way, someone might over-react. They may excitedly run to get one of the agents, or they might scream about it happening again, or they might be absolutely delighted and want pictures so they can go viral on FaceBook.

There's a cafe in town where there's are a slew of reporters, talking about post-Vesanalia clean-up and the lost arrivals. At first, someone who wanders in might be mistaken for another reporter, there to order coffee or jam microphones at the management outside. But someone might be smart. A towns-person might notice something off, a familiarity in their gaze, or might hear them say something suspicious. The next thing they know, those reporters are turning their microphones towards the newcomer.

Settling In

Someone might need somewhere to sleep. Well, there's a nice little hotel where it's free. There's probably government surveillance if you care about that sort of thing. Otherwise, your rest will go undisturbed and have the average conveniences of a mediocre bed, a Febreeze smelling duvet, a somewhat new TV, and bathroom with a tile pattern installed in the 80s. One could try a barn, but there's a chance they'll be run out by an angry man in honest to god overalls and an unironic cowboy hat with a pitchfork. They could also try to sleep in a vehicle. Let's just hope the owner doesn't come checking before morning.

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He's used to that, at least.

"I'm guessing your a glass half empty guy, huh?" He asked without any real judging. Honestly it was nice to have someone saying how they feel. Not that he knows it, but the human gummy-bear would and will pose no threat to the android. Maybe one day, but not now.

"It's human nature, the good and bad are meant to balance but they never do. Even science cant solve that one." He spoke with the slightest amused noise.

"More like the glass is mostly empty kind of guy." But he's been trying to fill it back up? Fuckin' weird way to put shit.

"So... That said, you trust this situation?" Because Hank can't, not completely, but he knows he's at a distinct disadvantage.

"Did the glass get knocked over, or simply dried out?" Crawford asked, with a slight tip of his head, folding his fingers together, which oddly made an already timid looking man look more timid.

"Not at all, no, but I have little choice. This... isn't the weirdest thing I have had to deal with yet. So, I suppose I am waiting to see if they kill us in our sleep, which would be counter productive after putting us in the system... or if they will just be watching. Nothing is truly ever free after all."

"Complicated." He says, because it feels like more detail than he's ready for. But rather than the true personal note that inspires those feelings, he just shrugs.

"I was a cop back home. I had been for years. No fucking clue what they're going to want from me here. At least they're not experimenting on us."

Or whatever happened to the first batch.

"Life's truest answer." He replied with a shrug. Everyone's complicated, and he wouldn't push. God knows thanks to Edward his life's complicated as hell.

He nodded some. "I was wondering about that, if maybe we all had useful skills. A cop could have his uses, more so if you were more on the detective side of it." He spoke with a shrug. "I'm just a physicist, I'm not sure what they would want with me. I worry about that to, that maybe they will but their waiting, a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt anyone, I guess."

"It's probably like that with scientists, huh? You're booted into the future and now you got shit like the Higgs Boson thing to work your way up through."

Not that Hank knows more than the name and the irrational panic of black holes it caused. Like, what the hell does one do with an accidental black hole? Might as well just worry about the things you can actually stop.

But back to the point, twenty years worth of shit is a lot to catch up on.

"Stuff seems kind of the same as it was for me. Just a little off, but the same enough for me to say with the current shit-headed administration if you plaster a political opinion on anything one side or the other will eat it up."

"...Did they ever confirm it?" He had to ask, his hazel eyes seeming a little more green as he looked almost excited to ask. He had always been one to beleive the Higgs Boson had to be true, it filled the gap, while others still didn't buy it. That said he gave a slight chuckle. "I guess I am a little outdated, and I just finished college last year." He added almost self-deprecatingly.

Granted, graduating from Miskatonic, didn't say a lot to most, even if he had been top of his class.

"I've always been a fan of, it's not one's business, no reason to talk about politics and such. It's helped me out a bit." He admitted.

"I think so. All I remember is that the Earth wasn't destroyed while they were looking for it." Small favors, right?

"I accidentally landed myself a potential job by saying too much." Connor had needed to change the records in the system, add himself in discretely, so Hank had walked into the local police station and declared he was a cop from the future and had valuable information that could save people.

"Some guy representing Youtube Red or whatever came out and offered me a chance for me and my partner to make a series. I don't know if I'll do it yet." Probably. "But we need the money." And right now he's in a miserable state of broke ass poor.

"You would be surprised how many times our kind of work causes issues like that." He spoke, a note of fresh fear in his tone, everything with the resonator was just to fresh and he hoped he never again saw what lies in the beyond.

"Really?" Maybe no one approached him because he did easily blended in. Granted he looked confused as Hank spoke on. "What is Youtube Red?" Oh to be from the days of the internet's infancy. He had no idea just how much the world was going to blow his mind.

"Something like Starsky and Hutch, or Miami Vice?" He asked looking a little more pleased at that before nodding. "Yes, I have to look into work myself soon. Being broke isn't idea."

"More like Cops. I can't remember if that was out, then. Youtube was a thing where people would post their own videos. Then they started a subscription service. Then they went out of business when the movie streaming services started offering individual uploads."

But that distance in the guy's face at the mention of a destroyed Earth is a little nerve-racking. "You alright?"

"...I've never heard of a show called cops so, probably not." He was two years and some change ahead of cops. He nodded some. "So basically anyone could be a celebrity? That sounds amazing."

He wondered if he would actually live to see that happen in real time. Sadly, probably not.

He shook his head some. "Honestly, no. Some crazy stuff happened before I came here... it's been a crazy week."

"Here crazy or your place crazy? Because I knew about the here crazy?" He chooses that route rather than undertaking the arduous task of explaining one of America's first documentary type shows.

He doesn't fuckin' think he's the TV type, but some asshole seemed really keen on it and he needs the money. So why not.

"About the same as both I would think. But, I did mean back home. I was assisting... a friend." he paused to think of how to explain not that Hank asked what the crazy was, but it was weighing on him. "We made a machine to expand the pineal gland... and it did far to much, that machine was evil." He visablly shuttered when he said it, crossing his arms as if cold despite the layers he wore.

"So... like I said, crazy."

"Evil?" He asks out loud, perplexed. Because what the hell? How can a machine be evil? A machine is just a machine, right, and even if he on some level doesn't get along with them, the idea of one being evil baffles him.

Also in a way, it makes him even more protective of his partner. It causes a pang of worry to run right through him. Which is stupid because this sounds like fucking medical equipment, not this other person he's become dedicated to.

"It opened a gateway, let monsters through." He looked almost frightened as he said it. The sad fact was he wouldn't have been worried about Connor or even think him evil as much as being curious about him, but the Resonator was evil in his mind.

"It killed Edward..." He shook his head some. "It sounds crazy but it just happened."

Okay, that bit, considering what's happened to them? Not the weirdest thing he's encountered today.

"How recently did this happen?"

That cop brain of his, trying to establish connections. But when you've only heard of people going into other places twice (was this even a gateway? How they ended up here?) he has to check.

This whole place was a bit higher on the weird scale. But, Crawford was terrified of the things he saw so they were still pretty fresh. Much like the bandage on his cheek from where he was bitten by one.

"A few days ago Edward died, I'm pretty sure I died yesterday." AS he said it he moved a hand up to his forehead it was so strange to say it, all of it sounded crazy, maybe he did belong in Arkham Asylum, but it was all true.

Edited 2019-03-16 00:21 (UTC)

There's an odd juxtaposition of this man certainly sounding crazy, but also that his face doesn't look like it's in great shape. And honestly? He's in the year of our lord 2018 in the bullshit distant past.

"What happened to your face? Did someone check you out before they went ahead and pushed you through their weird little logging system?"

Honestly, they'd seemed a little lax on checking for viruses and diseases in his opinion. Or maybe they're actually hoping for something to get through? Or they did it in some way that Hank couldn't immediately see. In any case, it seems like a wounded guy would be simple enough to take a look at.

Crawford didn't want to ever be locked back up as insane when he knew exactly what had happened to him and that it was horrifically real. AS real as Bubba's dead body. AS real as the blood that flowed from his cheek.

"They checked it, but laughed when I saw it was from being bitten by one of the creatures. They said a blood test would take a few days but..." Though the guy had touched his shoulder and looked worried a moment and that worried Crawford but he didn't saw anything about it, instead he peeled the bandage back, it was a circular wound, it did look like a bite but also one that clearly bit deep but stitches there would have scarred bad. He was going to scar either way. It looked like it had not healed. "It makes no sense but it's all true."

Hank leans in a little, squinting. And wondering.

"Sorta got me working on a crazy conspiracy theory." He taps his own head as he thinks.

"If it was me, no offense, and I met a stranger from another time with a bad looking wound, I'd probably make him stay in quarantine for a few days. I think this might be it. I think they might be using this town as a kind of quarantine and the media attention as a way to keep track. Shut this shit down if they have to and cut it off.

"But the media is a double edged sword. People are interested in us."

But with them out and wandering around, they might catch them doing something interesting. If Crawford here did something weird because of his bite, then they'd have a reason to be interested. If Connor seemed a little too smart, maybe a reason to look in on why. All the more reason to keep an eye on the situation.

"I could be paranoid. Hate thinking the worst of a situation. But uh... this is a pretty fucked up situation."

"Please share." Crawford spoke once he covered the wound back up. He blinked a bit as Hank spoke and he nodded. Well shit. "That makes a lot of sense... Jeeze, maybe it is. That would also explain the free lodging. Their keeping us."

He looked a little worried as he pondered it and nodded more. "This sounds like something worth keeping an eye on, and maybe a need to look out for one another. If It is a quarantine, we need to keep an eye on what those watching us are doing."

"I'm sure money is playing a role. We're profitable. But I'm pretty suspicious..."

Then again, it feels like a farfetched theory. So did androids believing in god.

"Hey, tell me more about this evil machine thing. In 'talking to a guy that's not a scientist' terms. I can keep up but only so far. I'm a cop, not an astronaut." He sits close to Crawford, then, so if he needs to lower his voice he can.

"That does make sense, anyone would be curious about out of world travelers. It also explains people trying to hire you, make more money off of us." He spoke as the cogs were turning in his mind.

Do they dream of electric sheep?

"The Resonator..." He spoke it's name as he leaned back on the wall looking a little bothered but nodded. "It's okay, I'm used to explaining it simpler now, I had a cop with me before I ended up here." He didn't want to talk about Bubba's terrible death though... Bubba deserved better. "Edward was trying to awaken the third eye, by stimulating the pineal gland with resonate vibrations at a precise frequency. I was brought from Miskatonic to help build the machine and do the programming."

"Yeah, I got that bit. But third eye- you mean like... psychic abilities? Reading minds, that sort of thing?"

Hank's attempting to follow.

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Intro Post

Welcome to Carlyle...

Waking Up

Getting Familiarized

Settling In

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