JANUARY SWEAR-IN: DEATH ISLAND

[ghoulking]

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: Death Sacrifice Island, New Zealand
WHEN: 13th January
WHAT: SWEARING-IN TIME, on the beautiful Island of New Zealand, Sacrifice Island.
WARNINGS: None so far

Welcome everyone to Sacrifice Island, once known as “Death Island” (and still called so by many). Located in the beautiful country of New Zealand, and under their government’s jurisdiction, Sacrifice Island is a place where investigation and scientific development happens: it’s the headquarters for Onward Research Station, laboratories that hope to learn how to neutralize the effects on humans/animals of chemical/biological weapons.

But this island holds dark history as well. It was in this very same place that seven young imPorts permanently lost their lives on October 3rd 2008. This tragedy deeply marked the history of United States and all Heroes of the nation, and is remembered with heavy heart. With hopes to never forget these painful events but to also look for a brighter future, United States of America and New Zealand both joined their hands and decided to raise a memorial for the lives lost at the island.

This memorial will be inaugurated on the 13th January along with the Swearing-In ceremony for the new heroes who have arrived this month. Media has been invited as well as this is too a political event to strengthen relationships between New Zealand and USA. Old and new imPorts are all welcome to come and pay their respects to the Heroes who are gone, swear their allegiance to the US government (or not), forge relations with a foreign country or simply show their presences during this event. Whatever reason one has, they will be welcomed.


TRAVEL

Thanks to the interest of many, an airbus has been generously loaned for free in order to fly the imPorts to Death Sacrifice Island. The airbus includes a dining area and each imPort has their own little cubicle, with chairs that can be converted into a bed. The trip will take a while for sure, so the travelers are welcome to mingle while they are on air, meet the new faces, and try some delicious airplane food. Or they can try sleeping, if other imPorts are quiet enough.

Because it's a long flight, there will be many movies to choose from: there is a strangely big collection of Adam Sandler movies, and apparently the big hit has both Adam Sandler AND Jerry Seinfeld and tells the story of a Wasp that falls in love with a Human, while it leads a rebellion against the humankind. If you aren't into Wasp movies, well- good luck picking something else that isn't as amazing.

ISLAND

Miss the hot summer weather? Well, New Zealand certainly has a lot of it to offer. The weather is the kind that would invite anyone for a swim, even though it’s not one of the activities offered during the Swear-In; in fact, the island has no beaches as it’s surrounded by cliffs. The island itself is beautiful, with a lot of greenery indigenous to the country, forming large forests through the island’s surface and surrounding the research center. There are no animals roaming around, with the exception of some birds (do not expect Kiwis, though), but imPorts are warned not to go too deep into the island’s forests or they might get lost.

At the east area of the island, stands the top of the art Onward Research Station, near the only beach the island offers. The airbus will land not too far away, in a small flight track that crosses the green forest, and imPorts will be directed to the center where they will be greeted by scientists, politicians and, of course, a lot of media.

Onward Research Station is white, clean, and shiny. Everything looks like it has been double or triple sterilized and visitors can almost see their reflections on every surface. The technology is probably the best you’d find in the entire nation: quick silent hoover carts that transport people and objects from a section to another, trays that hoover with food, snacks and drinks, and holograms of several scientists that made a difference while working at the Research Station can be found on specific marked areas. ImPorts that wish to know a bit more about the place will have the chance to press a button for a holographic guide who will tell them the story of the Center, their researches and hopes for the future.

However, since Onward focus on chemical and biological weapon studies, much of the area is very much Off Limits to prevent accidental contamination. There will be security (physical and electronically) to stop people from snooping around and causing huge accidents.

The center has allowed local tourism to be part of this. New Zealand certainly wishes to show their own culture, and thus there will be many who are eager to share it with the new comers. Talks of their fauna and flora, their national bird as well, history of Maori who voyaged across the Pacific, good old Rugby, and of course mentions of certain really popular fantasy movies that have been filmed there – one can certainly become immerse in this lovely world. Not so far away, there is also a buffet area with a lot of variety, all typical New Zealand dishes, including Maori dishes naturally. Try Hangi, or lamb, or delicious sea food, and end your meal with good wine and cheese.

Photographers, journalists, paparazzi will be everywhere. Not just for US ImPort Heroes, but due to the political connotations this meeting has as well. It’s no surprise that apart from “who are you wearing”, heavier and much more serious questions will be asked, involving politics, past events, current political feelings, where and for whom imPorts stand for.

The nearby beach isn’t amazing, but they worked really hard to change that. The whole area was cleaned as well, with new, white and shiny pavement that leads visitors to a special area: the memorial. There is a huge marble wall with the names of those imPorts who’ve lost their lives; there is a screen as well, and whenever someone touches one of the names said screen will activate show a video of the selected imPort while a voice tells the visitors a little about their life and death. Nearly, there is another holographic guide who, when activated, will tell the story of Death Island.

MEMORIAL

Anyone can access this history by checking out the Memorial, but in the afternoon, everyone will be invited to the beach. Here, imPorts and everyone else will be taught the dark history of the island by a spokeswoman dressed in white, while the screen on the Memorial Marble wall shows the lost imPorts.

“A scientist who held hatred for the imPorts used this island as his private base of operations, where he built a deadly ray and threatened to use this weapon against the United States. Seven imPorts heroically followed to investigate, only to find this ray permanently end their lives. These heroes and their tragic deaths are today remembered by us all, a memory of a dark and sad past – but we too hold on to hope, hope their deaths were not in vain, and hope we can rebuild and move forward.”

The speech is met with solemn nods and soft applause, while the names of the Heroes show on the screen:
DAVID GREEN; Chosen, age 19
MAGENTA MOVELLO; Mauve Avenger, age 17
IRA BRAUNSTEIN; Power Prince, age 21
JUDE BYEON; Bludgeon, age 17
CAROL "CARRIE" KING; Reign, age 18
MASON LOCKLEAR; Entropy, age 16
MALIK ISAIAH MARCHETTI; Journey, age 40

After, the woman will give stand to few more people who will give their own words about the memorial and the events of Death Island, including a New Zealand Minister and also an imPort: Tohru Adachi.

Once speeches have been spoken, people are welcomed to leave white flowers near the marble wall and learn more about the personal lives of each lost hero by touching their names and watching the movie about each. For those who don’t wish to stick around, the buffet area is always open, and people are more than welcome to return to their activities.

RETURN

The event will be over late night, and all imPorts will be brought back to the airbus. Since there are records who came on the airbus, it’s better not to try to stay behind – as welcoming as they were, those who work at Sacrifice Island have no plans to accommodate everyone more than necessary.

Media will be the first to leave, followed by imPorts and finally every politician involved. Once up in the air, the airplane lights will be turned to minimum, to allow imPorts some well needed rest. That is, if they want. Sorry if your neighbor is noisy.

Comments

apollo | new & unsettled

[solarcharged]

Arriving at the Station

[ Well experienced in the fine art of avoiding red carpets, Apollo gracefully sidesteps the media with the ease of a professional as he heads inside the research station. Despite what he’d said to reassure Jenny only two weeks ago - “I can stand to see myself in the news - hell, I almost miss it…” - Apollo has no intention of working the press.

It’s a point of pride that Apollo is purposefully wearing his colours today – the white and gold uniform that would mean something back home, were he still there. He may not be stopping to talk to the media but it’s a statement of its own kind: Apollo isn't swearing-in, but doesn’t have to be Registered to be a hero.

Inside, the research station is impressive. Even Apollo, jaded as he is by fancy science outfits, is quietly fascinated. It makes a change, meeting scientists of the non-crazed variety. His long career of dramatic heroics had started with one and Apollo has a horrible suspicion it will probably end with one too. From Bendix to Krigstein and everything I.O. cooks up in between, it seemed to be a superhero’s lot in life to stop strange little men in white lab coats from ending the world with their weird science. Even when you technically are the weird science.

Apollo selects a glass of good New Zealand wine from the buffet, cradling it in a broad, tanned hand that’s more suited for punching airplanes than sipping Sauvignon Blanc, and inspects the gathered crowds. He stands tall in the crowd, noticeable in his white and yellow uniform, and surveys their surroundings once again. ]

It’s all very shiny and well-meaning, isn’t it? [ Said to whoever is nearby. ] Very science chic.

Brooding at the Memorial

[ Most heroes don’t get a memorial like this, not in Apollo’s world. It’s a testament to this world’s fond obsession that these ones – nearly all children, Apollo notes with an uncomfortable twist of his stomach - have something nice to remember them by.

A failed mission. Heroes, people who were only trying to make the world a better place, slaughtered. Apollo remembers what that had been like: the paralysing fear, the rising bile, the chilling panic. Watching your team mates die, knowing that the mission was a loss. Knowing that some evil fucker had won and your death would be completely useless.

There was no memorial for Amaze, for Crow Jane, for Lamplight, for Impetus, for Stalker. But at least they had been adults, created by Bendix for the express purpose of living – and dying – to create a finer world. Who knows what these kids had thought they were signing up for, the day they embarked upon their final mission.

After a moment of contemplation he shakes his head, murmuring: ]

Poor bastards.

[ He’ll be there for a while, studying each entry in pensive silence. ]

BYO Starter

[ Apollo can be found mingling around the research station; he’s happy to talk to anyone who approaches him and is happy to strike up conversation with anyone who looks approachable. He’ll listen to the talks on rugby (considering he’s built like a forward lock on steroids) and Maori culture, as well as just generally being nosy about this whole biological weapon studies thing. Come and chat with him! ]

( ooc: catch me on plurk (fizzier or disco (shaz#0911) if you'd like to do something specific! )

@ memorial

[divaricate]

[ After being sent home briefly almost a year ago, only to meet her own death there, Wanda relates a little too much to this. ]

Yeah. [ A sad sigh. ] No good deed goes unpunished. Or, you know, something like that.

[solarcharged]

[ He hums a soft noise of agreement as his gaze snags on a particular entry: Entropy, aged sixteen. Way too young to be sent off to die. ]

Standard danger of heroics, I guess. But it's pretty damn unforgivable when they're that young...

[ Apollo pauses, glancing sidelong at the woman who's joined him at the Memorial, silently appraising her. ]

Are you new as well?

[divaricate]

Yeah, it sure is. On both counts.

[ His question draws a laugh from the now-29 year old former Avenger -- though it's a laugh that lacks any real humor or amusement. ]

Oh god, no; I've been here two months shy of three years. I'd say welcome, but this is kind of a depressing and somber one.

[solarcharged]

[ He shrugs one broad shoulder, reflecting on her words. ]

It's okay. I've had worse welcomes.

[ At least nobody's tried to kill him. Yet. Given the old name of the island, there's still a chance it might happen. ]

Does this kind of thing - [ Apollo gestures at it all: the memorial, their beautiful surrounds, the research station itself, ] - happen often?

[divaricate]

Fair enough. And yes it does. The bullshit, shenanigans, and other assorted possibly deadly mishaps are commonplace here, if that's what you're referencing to.

Station

[flightforfreedom]

[ Deciding what he should wear had ended up being a committee decision. Because New Zealand had insisted on something called "national sovereignty", they hadn't allowed Poe to act as escort in his jet. But they couldn't quite resist the hint of military presence, so they had requested that he go as their official representive to "show solidarity". So, no jet, and no droid, but here he was, milling around in full dress uniform.

Pride of the Air Force. Or something.

It was hard not to notice Apollo, though. That was a very different kind of uniform, and one Poe didn't recognize. So he meandered his way over, drink in hand, and offered the man a smile. ]

In my experience shiny and well meaning don't tend to go together, so it's a nice change of pace. [ He puts out a hand. ] Poe Dameron. I'm going to go ahead and take a wild guess that you're new here.

[solarcharged]

[ In Apollo's experience it's rare that people in uniforms - actual uniforms, not the shiny spandex that Apollo is used to - actually want to talk to post-humans like him. It takes a moment for Apollo to remember that no, in this world the military don't have a reason to be as wary and watchful as they are back home. But he overcomes that quiet moment of confusion in a second, glossing smoothly over his surprise with a winning smile. ]

God, is me being new that obvious? [ He grips the offered hand warmly. ] Apollo, wildly new, as you guessed. Good to meet you.

[flightforfreedom]

[ Apollo's grip is impressive, and Poe tries to give as good a shake as he gets. ] Good to meet you too, Apollo.

And yeah. Just a touch. Stay around long enough and you get used to the old guard - easy to spot the newbies when they arrive.

So how long have you been on Earth?

[ A pause. ]

Or, well, this version of it, anyway.

[solarcharged]

This Earth? [ He points at the floor, eyebrows upraised. ] A grand total of eleven and a half days.

[ He seems utterly unphased about it all, talking about turning up in random alternate dimensions as if it was like moving house. Apollo shrugs a broad shoulder. ]

There was an alternate version of me here for a good half a year before I arrived, though. But that doesn't count.

[ Sorry Andrew!! ]

[flightforfreedom]

As in - you just lost all your memories, or one actually different from you?

[ There's a noticeable shift in his demeanor as Apollo happens to mention something that's been actively bothering him. ]

Why doesn't it count?

[crassidy]

[Cassidy's outfit definitely doesn't make a statement about the heroic climate and registration issues, but it's unintentionally a statement all by itself. Mostly a statement of not giving a fuck seeing as he looks like he's spent all of five minutes rooting around in the dumpster of a Goodwill, what with the strangely fitted floral suit jacket, suit pants so short they end at his calves, patterned but odd socks, and a pair of old converse held together by duct tape.

When he spots Apollo through to crowds he wastes no time in heading directly for him, grabbing for a glass of wine on the way, and beaming a grin on the approach.]

You're Apollo, are you not?! M'Cassidy.

[Extending a tattooed hand for shaking because that's how mature adults say hello, right?]

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo hasn't spent the longest time stalking people on the network, but matching up faces and names would have been easier if he did. He stares in confusion for a moment before the name and the memory clicks in to place - of course, this guy is Cassidy. Of course. Apollo has a sneaking suspicion he should have been able to tell just from the clothes. The whole Look was as good as a name tag. ]

Oh my God - yes, Cassidy. Hi. [ Setting his glass quickly aside, Apollo beams back at him in delight as he shakes his hand, clapping him familiarly on the shoulder with the other. ] Good to put a name to a face! How are you?

[crassidy]

[He gladly accepts the friendly greeting given in return, especially from a handsome Adonis like Apollo. The handshaking even lasts for a good few seconds before he realises that's more than just a warm grip.

Cass' grin turns into a grimace pretty quickly after that, hissing out a sharp exhale and wrenching his grip away while awkwardly trying to duck and back step away from that palm on his shoulder. Clothing protection or not, he's not risking it.]

Shhhhhhite... [That slightly smoking hand of his is waved in the air like he's trying to put out a fire, before he swiftly hides it under an armpit like that'll somehow make the boo-boo go away.]

Christ, mate, gotta be careful with them fire powers, eh? Gonna start a bleedin' bonfire in here.

[What he assumes are fire powers, anyway. At least Cassidy doesn't sound too annoyed about it all.]

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo steps back at the recoil, confused and wary. That's a first. He inspects his palm - frowning at his fingers as if expecting to see flames spouting from them at any moment - before giving the other man's smouldering hand a mystified look. ]

Uh, I don't think that was me...

[ Because Apollo knows he definitely doesn't have fire powers. He holds his hand out, palm upturned, and offers it to Cassidy again. ]

Try again?

[crassidy]

[Cassidy's developing an equally confused look, although it's tempered by a slight eyebrow narrow of suspicion. Apollo seems genuine enough, but "I don't think" isn't a definite "it wasn't me" statement.

But maybe that was just some weird one off?! Maybe... maybe Cassidy just imagined it, or maybe the sun reflected off something and hit his hand at the exact moment they touched. Yeah, that's totally plausible.

And so he reaches forward again, a little more hesitantly this time, to place his palm on Apollo's. A few uneventful seconds pass before yet again a slight sizzle starts up and Cass is jerking his hand away with a gasp, looking far more indignant this time around.]

Oh, yeah, very funny. You got me, mate! Fell for it. I bet you get all the eejits with that one. Brilliant joke. [Slight salt building >(]

station

[lesterzeppelin]

[ Gods, this guy is bright.

Apollo wonders if this is how other people used to see him - all bright and shiny and like he'd blind someone at any moment - before he stares down at himself and tugs on his bracelets (specifically, the one made out of guitar strings, with 'Jason' written on a nameplate). He knows the other Apollo doesn't mean anything just by existing. The logical, rational part of his brain that reminds himself that he's a knowledge god has to believe in it.

Yet if this was a fashion show, Apollo would lose, and not just because he's slapped a tie on top of a blue button-down shirt. He's still a kid, growing into his body, and no amount of designer clothing or watches will hide his seeming youth. He gives the other Apollo a shrug, fighting the urge to be argumentative. He's not going to be jealous of someone named after him. Not the time, not the place, and - ]

They're trying their hardest. [ He can see their good intentions, and he wants to concede to that goodwill. Apollo cradles his own sparkling apple juice (no one believes 'Lester Papadopoulos' is over 18), taking a sip. ] I think that's worth celebrating, and hey - when else are we gonna visit New Zealand?

[ For free, even? ]

[solarcharged]

[ Not that Apollo had been stalking the network, but he recognises this guy. The other other Apollo, somehow trapped in the body of a teenager. Apollo almost feels bad for him - teenage vessels for godly cosmic powers seem to be a Thing - but there's no trace of pity in his expression as he flashes him a sunny smile. ]

Oh, they're definitely trying their hardest. I can see my reflection in the floor tiles.

[ Highly polished to within an inch of its life, the entire station feels like one huge testament to man's ability to make science look as cool and shiny as can be. Apollo hasn't got much patience for it; his forte is neither science nor magic, unless either can be punched in the face. ]

Are you telling me that Imports don't get flown to New Zealand for every Swear-In? [ Apollo tuts in mock disappointment. ] I'm shocked and appalled.

[lesterzeppelin]

[ Apollo laughs, despite himself - he's going to need sunglasses for this smile. And the tiles, apparently. ]

Unfortunately. Seems this is a one time only deal. [ he relaxes, giving the lab another once over. They've been cordoned off from the interesting sections - on purpose, no doubt - but he can appreciate the sterility of the station. Cleanliness really is godliness. ] But hey, I bet it makes for a pretty interesting first Swear-In.

[solarcharged]

Honestly, I'm just waiting for someone to try and kidnap me. I hear that's a thing at these Swear-Ins.

[ Apollo said 'try' for a reason; it's been years since he's had a good challenge. And although he's heard all the warnings about keeping a handle on his powers, a solid self-defence excuse is all he needs. Apollo sips his drink and forces himself to relax by a fraction; he tears his attention away from the room and back towards the young man - god - beside him. ]

You're the other Apollo, right? The real one?

[lesterzeppelin]

Uhhhh....

[ Like a deer in headlights, Apollo freezes.

His immediate instinct is to wonder if M spilled the beans, but that doesn't sound right. Midnighter thinks he's a kid full of shit and hubris, not a god knocked down from his former throne. (And even if he did tell his husband, M knows there are some secrets that shouldn't be told.) Apollo racks his brain for how and why his secret could've been told, because man - even the press doesn't know.

(Not once does it occur to him that he might've spilled the beans on himself online, because frankly, he's a bit of an old man when it comes to social media.)

He glances over, making sure the media's preoccupied with business mogul Iris West, or something that Riptide did (again), before giving Apollo a low, slow nod.

softly, like he's trying to piece a puzzle together: ] Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?

Station

[heliophilic]

[See Apollo, he can clean up. Today he's wearing a black suit with a black shit and grey vest, with no tie. Under his shoulder is a duffel bag.

He can never be too sure when he'd need his work clothes.]

It certainly fits the stereotype. [His eyes fall onto Apollo's outfit.] And I thought Andrew didn't believe in fabric.

[It's... interesting. The differences between Andrew's costume and this Apollo's. He's seen the other Midnighter's costume--heck, he'd wound up with a version of it when he first arrived thanks to their shared tailor. Their differences--the cowl, his choice of more practical pants, the chest plate--seemed minimal at best. This seemed far more different.]

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo's been at this game for too long to feel self-conscious about his uniform. Besides, there aren't many men brave enough to mock a solarpowered laser cannon about his fashion choices apart from Midnighters, apparently. Apollo gives him an askance look as he mildly points out: ]

Men who own leather pyjamas shouldn't throw stones.

[ Except... Apollo hasn't actually seen M in full Midnighter mode yet. He turns quizzically. ]

You do have the same uniform as him, right?

[heliophilic]

[Rather than answer the question right away, he shifts the bag over his shoulder so he can unzip it, revealing his work clothes folded neatly inside. He picks up the cowl and holds it in his hands like it's Yorick's skull.]

After I got here I inherited his tailor, so I can tell you from experience our sense of fashion differs in three main ways:

one: my cowl has ridges to actually protect my forehead. He apparently went with some decorative stripes.

[He motions to the bag, where his chest plate sits on top.]

two: Going with the protection theme--the insignia's on a chest plate. I'm beginning to suspect this guy never got hit too hard.

[And as for the most important thing...]

three: Your Midnighter is insane for wearing leather pants. I wear carbon fiber tactical pants. They actually allow for movement.

I kept the inner pockets in the jacket. That was a slick touch.

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo gently relieves M of the the cowl in his hands, scoffing lightly: ]

Never got hit too hard, he says! Midnighters are meant to be hit at all.

[ He turns the headgear over in his hands, considering it closely. Apollo has to admit, everything about M's version is definitely carefully planned with protection in mind. With an unhappy twist in his chest he realises that his husband could have done with a bit more protection in his time. ]

He is insane, but not just for the pants. [ Apollo hands the cowl back with an impressed nod. ] I admit you get points for being practical but the leather was iconic.