Intro Post

[shitstorm_eve]

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.

Comments

[slowburn]

"Nope. But then again, nobody really explains Christmas. They just come up to you on Halloween with their candycanes ready way too damn early. If you didn't know, you'd be confused as hell."

Especially working out when Santa gave birth to Jesus and if the reindeer were in the manger. Christmas is confusing. He takes a few moments to read, working his jaw thoughtfully.

"Says here people can't control themselves. Well... a few people can't control themselves. So they just started forgiving shit and protecting themselves."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"What's it called?" It sounded like the worst execution of Mardi Gras imaginable. Scott was going to have to research this on his own. He wasn't sure he doubted it, though, because it was such a bizarre thing to lie about. "It's over for the year, right?"

[slowburn]

"Yeah. Just yesterday, in fact."

It's not like he has a lot of personal info on the thing, so he hands his own to Scott. The background is a dragon and fire, predictably. All the apps standard fare, save for GrubHub and Angry Birds.

"Vesanalia."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

He took the phone and read through the article, frowning more and more deeply as he went and looking up in shock when he got to the "history" section. "They've been doing this for centuries? And people die? This is the worst holiday I've ever heard of!"

[slowburn]

"I haven't seen any bodybags here. Maybe the lady that god her door axed down was ready for the person that decided to go here's Johnny! on her. My guess after a few centuries you start learning to deal with it. Get desensitized."

Mick mulls that over. "Aztecs had some wild ones. But yeah. It doesn't sound like the best time."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"Doesn't mean there weren't any. It happens everywhere, people have to have died. How can you get desensitized to that?"

Sure, maybe horrible stuff happened everywhere, but this was just... Scott didn't have words for it. "Well I don't know anything about the Aztecs! And I don't think I want to!"

[slowburn]

"I went to Juvie as a kid and was fighting off other kids twice my size. Met my partner protecting him from teens out to shank him. Does a hell of a lot to desensitize you. Now, think of that. Every person here has been living with the idea of going crazy and being attacked since they were a kid.

"They didn't learn to die scared. They learned to live around it, do what it takes to survive and keep living." Living in this case being able to wake up every day knowing that once a year your mom might go crazy and try to kill you.

He points to some insurance adjustor examing a car as a tow-truck is lining it up. Some mess further down the street that happened very recently. Seems like the clean-up crews were ready to go. "Or they learn how to cash in."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"Where the hell did you go to juvie?" San Quentin had been better than that. Scott knew he was pretty lucky for an ex-con with two convictions but that sounded more like the Hunger Games than a kids' facility.

Watching the insurance adjuster, he frowned and handed the phone back to Mick. "That's the most depressing thing I've heard all day and I just read this."

[slowburn]

"Central City." Is where he went to Juvie. "A lot of gang bangers back then. Kids already used to life on the streets."

Mick takes the phone back.

"Yeah, well. We got 364 days to get the fuck out, give or take a leap year." He checks his wrist as if it has a watch. It has no watch. "Right, 2019. Leap year happens in 2020. But... wait. Leap year is after...."

Mick is smarter than he looks. But the way his eyes swivel as he works that out could cast doubts on that notion.

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"Is it just the worst place on earth? Prison is better than that."

What is Mick's life? How was he so relaxed about all this, with his main concern being the calendar? "Look," Scott said slowly, "do you have a plan for what you're doing here?"

[slowburn]

"You make me wish I'd gone to your prison." Mick nods sagely. "Sounds like a nice place." He'd never been to a polite one, or near polite one, in his life.

"You want an honest answer or a narc-safe answer? Either way, it's get by for as long as we can until we figure out a way out or help arrives. And help will arrive or some bullshit egghead will show up with their fixit of the hour."

He does a 'cheers' gesture with his coffee. Because he lacks beer at the moment.

"They always do."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"Not really. But better than that." It could have been a lot worse for him if he hadn't fallen in with some much bigger and tougher guys. Once he and Luis became friends, Peachy and his group had kept the more aggressive inmates off his back.

"Kind of both." It hadn't escaped his attention that they were saying this in the middle of the street. Luckily there weren't too many people keen on loitering in the winter, not that it meant anything. "Do you do this a lot?"

[slowburn]

Mick, almost notoriously, just doesn't care who might see or hear him. Which isn't always the stealthiest, but he's very good at playing the "who's gonna believe you game." And should they believe them? He's very good at giving the cops the slip. Somehow. Despite being the size that he is.

"Yeah. I was on a time travelling ship. Full of idiots that fucked everything up trying to be heroes. But in my opinion, they fucked it up for the better. Sure, things might need fixing, but before we were getting played. And-" There's... something that goes off on Mick there. Like a switch, like he remembers something rough, and he grunts softly.

"Well. Got pretty good reason... to believe we're gonna be fine. Problem is, I can't tell if this is an alternate world or a different timeline. Because if it's the later you're an amonale- amomany- anenome... something like that. A time hiccup, 'cause you got tech like the guy I know. Or if they just popped up the same in different places."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

The stakes on Mick's end were lower than on Scott's, who still had a fully-functional shrinking suit that could currently fit a plastic army man figure in his pocket. He had done some crazy things to escape capture, but talking openly was a gamble he usually preferred not to take.

"A time travelling ship." He repeated the phrase, squinting and trying to accept the image. "All right. I don't know how that works, but that's cool."

Scott shook his head no, defensive over the idea that Hank's tech might just be an anomaly. "I told you, I didn't get the tech from the guy you know. My guy invented it, it's named after him. I've never heard of a Ray Palmer, and I have a pretty good idea who has this where I'm from. An okay idea. A decent id-- I know the guy who invented it, damn it."

He took a deep breath. "So -- that could mean something."

[slowburn]

Mick, to his credit, had a state of the art heat gun. (One that, in a very ghostbusters way, he couldn't cross streams with his partner's cold gun so they got pretty good at fighting back to back).

"Yeah, the captain was an asshole but he fucked off and left the smart girl in charge. So. Needs to happen sometimes."

Mick wrinkles his nose a little. "Yeah, but if it was a broken timeline, you could have known someone your whole life. You wouldn't know the difference unless you were outside the timeline when it broke. If it's a whole new universe, then fuck it, it's all real. And it's hard as hell to tell the difference.

"Don't worry, this feels like different world territory. I don't think they have anything useful here. The highest tech things to show up in a while that aren't cars made by a billionaire with a smelly name are, well, us."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"Okay." Scott didn't know how to react to all that. "Cool?"

"How do you know the difference? It sounds like broken timelines aren't that different from whole new universes." He's actually curious, the quantum realm is beyond his understanding.

[slowburn]

"In my experience? I needed a ship to be able to tell for sure. Don't got a ship. So. I guess we're livin' it until we figure out which or one of our guys comes to rescue us."

Then a pause as he considers.

"You got guys, right? 'Cause I got guys. Someone's gotta notice and come get us. We do that shit all the time."

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"I guess that's fair." Couldn't blame a man for relying on tech, it was what he did all the time. And the nomenclature probably wasn't all that important, it was just the idea that Hank's tech had been some kind of spinoff that rubbed Scott the wrong way.

"I... have a guy? Girl? And I have some guys I know, but they've got their own stuff going on. I don't know if they can follow me here."

[slowburn]

"The more geeks in on it, the better. I know I can't build a world hopping portal machine out of kitchen crap."

Acknowledging that he's stuck is... not great.

"Hey, look. I think you oughta let me introduce you to my partner. Three heads are better than two." See he can do math, be proud of him! He ambles over, brushing off his gloved hands.

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

"Me neither." World-altering tech was the sort of thing other people did where he was from, and while Scott was a decent engineer, he wasn't Stark or Pym/van Dyne level. He again wished Hope were here, or Janet. Hell, he wished Hank were here. They'd know what to do.

Rory had a point and Scott nodded, knowing that ignoring the time-and-space people wasn't going to do him any favors here. "What does your partner do?"

[slowburn]

"I burn stuff. He freezes stuff." That's the more blunt part of their skill set. But, on a more useful level.

"He's good at improvising and planning." And generally pretty suave and more likable by random people than Mick. "And he should know there's more than one chance of getting out of here."

Because he's not going to discount Scott's people. After all, if they can make something on par with Palmer's tech.

[perfectlychill]

Mick said he was waiting for a guy with silver buzzed hair in a parka. That guy is sauntering down the sidewalk towards them right now. Just a normal guy, out for a winter stroll, totally not a man from another dimension or whatever the hell this is. Snart catches a few second glances as he walks by other people, but he's not sure if it's because this town is small enough that a stranger stands out, or if they're just looking to look.

[worldsgreatestgrandma]

Well, that fits the description Scott got earlier. This was either the partner with the penchant for freezing, or some passerby who was dressed sensibly for the cold weather (he was currently wondering if his jacket was a little thin). "Hi," Scott ventures, a few of those second glances focusing on him for a moment.

[slowburn]

Calling out a "Hey Boss" doesn't seem like the best greeting to use and remain low key. So Mick just hollers a quick, "Over here" at Snart. And then, when he gets closer, and Mick is relatively sure all the eavesdroppers, lookyloos, and homebodies are otherwise occupied once again he introduces them.

"Snart, this is Ant Queen. Ant Queen. This is Snart."

That is not the best introduction. Scott might actually give Snart a real name. Luckily, Len's probably used to this crap from Mick by now.

[perfectlychill]

Snart scans the guy up and down, assessing. Why Mick calls him "Ant Queen" isn't obvious to him, but he's sure he'll find out eventually. "Okay, now why should I care." It's a genuine question, and he's got no reason to sugarcoat it. If Mick's introducing him to Snart, there's probably something interesting or useful about him, and Snart wants to get to that part of the conversation.