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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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Snart saunters down the sidewalk along main street, looking unremarkable in his dark jeans and jacket.

"Looks like this town had quite the party last night." Probably the first time a place like this has had something resembling a nightlife for the last five years. He hates small towns.

As a pedestrian passes by, he brushes shoulders against them and relieves them of their wallet. Gotta keep in practice, plus money's kind of short right now. He didn't think he'd be needing funds any time soon when he was blowing up the Oculus. Just his luck to end up in Smalltown USA without cash. Still, it's better than being dead.

The last thing Mick remembers is having been on the beach. That's it. Stretches of clean surf and warm sand and good drinks and then out like a light. Just faded to sleep in the noon-day sun.

The place where he's laying is far more uncomfortable. It's cold as fuck concrete ground and of all the damn things he's still wearing his ridiculous beach clothes, modest for a man who doesn't want to show off his scars but obviously something not meant for late February weather. And he's fully unconscious, cheek smushed into the hard ground, laying limp in an alley between two small-town stores.

The first person that sees him is a little girl, a tomboy in a baseball jersey who runs to get another couple of her friends. Their first adventure in finding a newbie, and by god, they're going to safely rouse him by poking him with sticks.

Waking Up

[Connor opens his eyes and sits bolt upright immediately, extremely concerned. Waking up is something he only does if he shuts down to begin with, and he doesn't remember doing that. He gets to his feet quickly and looks around. He seems to be in a park, empty for the moment, and he came to on the roundabout. He hops off it and dusts himself off, fixes his tie, and calls out.]

Hank?

[Nothing... is he on his own? Where is he, anyway?]

Hello? Is anyone there?

Getting Familiarised

[He's busy scanning the town after coming to the conclusion that he's no longer in Detroit. He reconstructs disturbing scenes of violence, and wonders why it happened. It seems peaceful enough here now, at least.

He approaches the nearest person, deciding to ask.]

Excuse me, but do you know what happened here?

Waking Up
It was a church of all places where the hazel eyes of Dr. Crawford Tillinghast slid open once more. He had thought death finally, mercifully took him after the explosion but no, that was not to be. Pushing his head up a hand moved almost as if he was hung over to the top of his head before laughter bubbled out. Oh thank you whatever higher power had put him back together, his hair was back that horrid thing gone from his forehead. A man was speaking to him but it took a moment to realize what was being said. 'Follow me, let me explain.'

He followed along, as one thing became clear upon exiting the church, one this was not the Miskatonic Valley, nor did it seem to be his world at all and something terrible had happened here. Maybe the Resonator had tore a whole through time and space... God where might Edward have ended up? He moved along with the kindly Agent getting set up. Finally, after about an hour he was sitting on a bench, the phone in his pocket as he looked over the ID he had been given. Just letting it all sink in.

Settling In
He had been directed to the hotel, luckily his 80's fashion wasn't to blindingly obvious that he was out of place as much as he simply dressed like an old man these days. Brown corduroy pants with a sweater over a button up and black jeans. He was pretty easy to overlook, average looking short, brunette hair and hazel eyes. The only thing that even seemed off besides the aged clothes was a bandage on his cheek, but otherwise he seemed like anyone one else at least until he stepped into the free hotel. After checking in he went back outside finding a spot near by to sit and watch people. Taking in the day, and his days before for the first real time since all the insanity swept him up .

[Hank is down for the fucking count. Like a limp sack of sand on the ground, dead drunk in appearance though if someone were to smell his breath they'd find him clean as a whistle (sort of, okay not really but not drunk enough to pass out). He's at the edge of that park, unconscious, and there's a stray dog tentatively approaching him and sniffing his shoe.]

[The moment it sees Connor, it takes its wiry legs and flees off into the brush, but Hank doesn't stir. Doesn't move or react in any way. Not even sleepy, clumsy muttering coming out of him in his thorough slumber.]

Waking Up

[Raven stirs awake slowly, her eyes opening to what looks to be a pond. It's quiet, and she's so foggy... until she hears a bird caw, and then she scrambles to her feet and looks around, panicking. No birds...? Was it all in her head again?

She shivers, not because she's cold but because she's afraid suddenly. She wants her beast suit back. Then she can figure out where Snake took her. Because clearly this is Snake's doing, right? Already pissed off, she turns around and glares at the person now coming her way.]

Who the hell are you? Where's Snake?

Settling In

[She doesn't trust the hotel, not yet. So she's roaming around during the night, trying to find somewhere better to sleep. Eventually she smashes the window of an old car with her elbow, and will likely be caught opening the door and slipping into the back. Maybe someone should try to convince her to just go sleep in a bed, like a normal person.]

[Connor rushes over and grabs Hank's shoulders when he spots him, kneeling down beside him. He shakes him roughly, then leans in to check his breath. No, he shouldn't be passed out just from alcohol intake... so the same thing must have happened to Hank as it did to him.]

Lieutenant, wake up!

[He will absolutely slap Hank awake if he has to.]

Hammbledd no Connor I'm thnn [There was a single word that happened there, and he loosely fumbles and reaches up and puts his hand on Connor's chest. Shh, Connor. Shh. He is very tired, and wishes to continue sleeping.]

[He is saved from a slap, though, luckily, by opening his eyes. And those big blues swivel one way. Then the other, And he sits up on his elbows with a perplexed look.]

No.

[That is his assessment of the situation. It is 'No'. He's not having it.]

[Well, that's one way to address the situation.]

Good, you're awake. Something is very wrong. I woke up here, too. I don't know where we are. I-

[He looks around helplessly, then gets back to his feet.]

Come on, we need to find out what's going on here.

[Hank groans as he pulls himself to his feet, all that old-man crankiness wearing on his shoulders as he rights to standing and looks around. Some fuckin'...] Where the hell is this?

[It's somewhere cold, that's for sure. Not Detroit and nowhere he's been. Not a single skyscraper tearing up the skyline, the jagged teeth of the city gone. Cyberlife's spires of wealth completely absent.]

[Hank looks to Connor.]

Yeah. Yeah, let's go do that. [Because who the fuck would kidnap them and... what, dump them? Why asleep? Why anything that's happening now?]

I don't know.

[Connor has only ever seen Detroit, this is completely new to him.]

What is the last thing you remember?

[He leaves the park, keeping Hank close by incase he passes out again or something.]

Crawford does seem easy to overlook, at least at first. Blindingly average has been kind of an advantage here.

Hank decides to check out the hotel, scope it out carefully and make sure that it would be a place where Connor could stay safely without being outed for what he actually is. Hank is only beyond average (not above average) in that he's broad-shouldered, a little unkempt, and accidentally intimidating with a rumbling voice that has the firm impression of metal clanking down a deep well when he speaks. Words that climb up from the depths of his chest.

"Hell of a night." He says to Joe Random Guy, looking at the hotel he'd been given an address too.

"You know anything about this place?" The hotel, he means. But the open-endedness is intentional. He can say how much he does or doesn't know.

In a few days he'd probably see it as the advantage it was, but for now he simply found it a bother. He was in a strange place and confused but he could work with it. Hearing the voice he looked up, seeing the older man Crawford managed a light smile.

"You could say that, yes." He spoke a little soft, like someone who worried about being to loud, he had a bit of new England tone in his voice but not a lot. His hazel eyes moved over the man before he looked back at the hotel.

"This place is apparently a free place for those of us that got pulled here, I thought I was the only one but the nice agent who found me told me otherwise." He had also been told to keep his head down but Crawford was still in a small bit of shock so it was harder said than done.

[ Crawford had gone out from the hotel in the night, mostly hoping to explore the city. He wanted to see what his new home was like and in truth a lot more can be learned about a place at night than in the day.

Though without money there wasn't a lot to learn. He was making his way back to the hotel when he heard the glass breaking. He blinked a bit seeing the beautiful woman slipping into the back of a car.

But why?

Such questions were dangerous and yet, he kept walking that way instead of turning and going another way like a sane person should. Looking at the broken glass he spoke without looking into the car. ]

The glass was pretty loud... someone might come out and find you.

[He spoke softly but loud enough to be heard.]

[Hank sticks by Connor, too, similarly protective despite that it was Connor who woke him up rather than vice versa. He wants to make sure no one is hostile to the strange android. Especially with the city still under quarantine and android suspicions at their height in the US.]

[He is careful when they approach someone on the street, padding himself down for his badge which he's sure is useless. It's a little old lady beside the park, by her little gingerbread looking house, trying to right a spray-painted mailbox- fuckin' punks knocking down mailboxes.]

[But it's about then that he starts noticing that there's petty vandalism all up and down the street.] Jesus, did the local cops do something dumb or was it just Homecoming? [That sass is remarked quietly to Connor. Before he speaks out loud to the nice lady.] Ma'am! Excuse me. Mind if we ask for some directions?

"Yeah, you're not the only one." Hank sticks his hands in his pockets and shifts uncomfortably. Well, must be a lot harder for someone that could pass as a librarian. But for now, he doesn't mention Connor. He'll be cagey about him for as long as he can.

"Still, not a lot of options for food. Until we get some money. So I guess we should get settled in or something."

Hank crosses his arms and leans against the wall beside where Crawford is sitting. "This might be kind of a fucked up question, but uh... When are you from? You from around this time?"

[Raven glances out of the back of the car, obviously defensive.]

Are you the only other person here?

[Because if he is, then as long as he isn't intending to do anything about it... she glares at him, though the question of what he intends to do goes unasked for now.]

[Connor lets Hank speak with the lady, scanning a damaged car nearby. Looks a lot like someone took a bat to it. Actually, it looks like multiple different blunt weapons were used on it.]

What happened here?

[He glances back to the old woman.]

This car is heavily damaged. And there's evidence of other crimes all the way up this street.

Oh, that one's not mine, if you're with the insurance people. [She starts up as she's turning around, but then seems to notice Connor's clothes. And that Hank is utterly unfamiliar. Her jaw drops.]

W-ait! You're both strangers! You're those!

[And it's at that reaction that Hank steps in front of Connor, reaching behind him and using his bulk to protectively hide him.] We're not with any-

[He's trying to thwart the situation, but she's about to call for some guy in a suit, which Hank finally keys in on as law enforcement and not just some local. And Hank mutters a quick-] Go get rid of your jacket. Get a fucking disguise. Go. I'll find you in a bit.

[Connor looks wide-eyed between Hank and the woman, wondering if he can resolve this somehow. Ultimately though, he realises that Hank is probably in less danger as a human than Connor is as an android. He backs up, looking up at Hank.]

...Okay. Be careful, Lieutenant.

[And he dashes away, hopping over a fence and into someone's backyard. Luckily, it's empty. He sheds his jacket and stashes it in a bush, then heads back out onto the streets after passing through a few gardens. He needs to hide his LED.]

I'll be fine.

[He promises, turning just long enough to watch him go, before he goes over to talk to the government guys and prepares to lie through his teeth. This conversation, though, doesn't go how he expects.]

[If Connor can see him, if he can turn up his sound sensitivity, read lips, what he gets is a montage of Hank reacting more than answering questions. What do you mean, 2019? and I'm in fucking Montana!? being prize sentences among them. Then a frantic, This is bullshit, this doesn't make any sense! and the cops showing him a phone. Newspapers. Evidence that this isn't the year Hank thinks it is.]

[It's taking some convincing. But during the conversation a voice clears behind him. Rather than say anything, though, the man in a marshall's uniform and ranger-hat makes a "shh" motion at Connor. He can tell he's hiding.]

Edited 2019-02-26 02:44 (UTC)

[Connor turns quickly, but the man doesn't seem to be a threat. So Connor eyes him, trying to figure out if he can trust him.]

Who are you?

[And then, because honestly, he's really confused-]

How did we get here?

[Because he's overheard something about it being 2019 and that they're in Montana, but... how?]

Edited 2019-02-26 02:53 (UTC)

[The guy gestures for Connor to follow him, rather than respond immediately. He's going to get them away, towards a public place that's unpublic in the way people blend in. Enough strangers that yet another stranger makes sense. And it's there that he turns and says,] It happened before. Those people went missing. Here. [He takes a phone out of his pocket (he's been used to carrying one of the spares on him) and slips it into Connor's hand.]

I can't offer you more than this right now. [The poor marshall is having a harried day, and he has to abandon Connor to that blank phone.]

[Hank, in the meantime, is a beat from punching someone. Nothing anyone is saying is making sense, and there's a sort of rage-filled impotence settling on him. A futility that he abhors, because everything they're giving him isn't adding up.]

Look, I just want to get this over with. How long is this going to take? [Hank asks.]

Just a couple of hours. [Is the response he gets, and Hank sighs in exasperation.]

Great. Faster than the DMV.

[Joke as old as the hills to cover how worried he is about Connor right now, and since he can't see him (and is trying hard not to look like he's looking for someone, because investigators would notice that) he's just hoping and trusting that he'll find him when it seems safe.]

Edited 2019-02-26 03:20 (UTC)

[Connor takes the phone and is about to ask more questions when he just leaves. Well, a phone could be useful. He can look up information on here once he's gotten a disguise.

He has to steal a packet of band aids in the end, because stealing anything bigger would be too obvious. It doesn't feel good to do, but he hasn't got much choice. He sticks one over the LED, figuring he can just say he has a scrape there or something.

Now to find Hank. He wanders around for a while, until he spots him and jogs over.]

Hank. I couldn't find you. What happened back there?

[Mick is in the middle of putting a strip of gum in his mouth, having finally escaped the attention of prying eyes and decided to enjoy a thoughtful moment by himself. But that refreshing moment is marred by the fact that, when he bites down, he hears convenient glass breaking off to his right.]

[Now, there are a million reasons for him to not care about broken glass. But there are thirty why he should, so maybe he'll go have a look. And when he does, there's a hot lady in a painted on number crawling into the back of the car.]

[Huh.]

There are quieter ways to break into a car... Unless you just felt like busting something up. Seems like they get used to that around here.

[Yeah, he's prying, it's none of his business. But he's gotta be a little catty anyway.]

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Page 1 of 14

Intro Post

Welcome to Carlyle...

Waking Up

Getting Familiarized

Settling In

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Connor | Detroit: Become Human

Crawford Tillinghast || From Beyond

Waking Up

Raging Raven | Metal Gear Solid 4

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Settling In

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Settling In

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Settling In