maskormenacelogs | Happy five, I feel alive

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Happy five, I feel alive

WHO: Everyone!
WHERE: The Smithsonian's National Zoo, Washington, D.C.
WHEN: July 14, late afternoon/evening
WHAT: Swear-In
WARNINGS: The call of the wild

This month's swear-in takes imPorts to a new location—our nation's capital, Washington, D.C., heart of America! Luxury shuttle buses will pick up imPorts just outside the city's military base that houses the Porter. For the nearly two-hour journey, each imPort is offered snacks, beverages, and a pair of top-of-the-line Gose headphones with which they can enjoy a variety of entertainment options on their seatback video screen, which includes a recently released documentary on imPorts themselves and all they've achieved since they began arriving in this world again.

Once the buses reach the city, they'll proceed directly to the site of this month's Swear-In, the Smithsonian Institution's National Zoo. The initial cocktails and mingling session is held under tents erected in the Great Meadow. While these events are always a draw for those in government interested in rubbing elbows with the newest citizens, imPorts will notice that there are even more officials than usual, ranging from local leaders of the Porter cities to federal representatives as well. Security is tighter, too, and the reason becomes obvious when the Vice President of the United States steps up to the podium on a small mounted stage.

Delivered with gravitas and gratitude, his speech is a congratulatory anniversary speech, of sorts. Earlier in 2019 marked five years since imPorts began arriving through the Porter again; five years of this imPort population serving as excellent examples* of what Americans can be, protecting the innocent, becoming heroes.

*Most of them

He acknowledges that imPorts have not chosen to be here, and many have sacrificed much by being unable to return to their home worlds, but commends them for all the good work that they do despite this...which serves as a segue to next part of the evening.

Many native citizens are on hand to offer a collective 'thank you' to imPorts. A short film by Oscar-winning documentarian Elena Donnelly features a montage of civilians sharing personal stories of when an imPort helped them, ranging from a small business owner who was nearly robbed before street heroes intervened to an elderly woman saved from a mugging to a little girl whose lost dog was returned by a helpful imPort. Several other natives are here in person with prepared accounts of their experiences during major events, such as the 2014 bomb attacks and 2016 coups in the Porter cities. For those who were around for any of these incidents, it's a street-level retrospective of the good they and their peers were capable of; for newer imPorts, it is a hopefully inspiring example.

Following this more formal part of the evening, imPorts are free to enjoy the rest of the event, which takes up much of the zoo. Multiple sound-proof recording booths have been set up just outside the main tent, in which imPorts are encouraged to share a story from their time here, be it heroic or rather mundane. The recordings are planned to be used for an upcoming exhibit on imPorts at the Smithsonian.

[an ooc note: players are free to decide whether their characters have been included as part of the civilian storytelling! Heroic deeds big and small with both be celebrated.]

What else is there to enjoy? Ah, animals! The beauty of nature! Most animal exhibits remain open, and imPorts are encouraged to have a drink and enjoy a leisurely stroll through the zoo and take a look at lions, tigers, and bears (oh my!) Zookeepers are on hand to answer questions about animal care and behavior, and certain activities let attendees get a little more hands-on with the animals. Want to put on a glove and let a red-tailed hawk fly to you, take a picture with a snake on your shoulders or pet a fluffy chicken? Now's your chance! Additionally, a small ampitheater is set up to allow imPorts the chance to share information about native creatures from their worlds (and if no imPorts feel like sitting down to learn, nerdy zoo employees absolutely will.)

As twilight fades into nighttime, some imPorts may choose to board buses for the return home, or to make use of a block of nearby hotel rooms that have been reserved. Those who stay, however, will find that around 10 p.m., the sky becomes...a little darker. The change may not be immediately obvious, thanks to the city's light pollution, but the observant may notice that the nearly-full moon is no longer adding any light to the sky. Have clouds moved in to block the moonlight? That must be it, although other stars are still visible.

Around fifteen minutes later, the clouds (?) must pass, because a sphere in the sky is once again visible. But...wait. The light isn't is bright. And the familiar lunar features that people see when they look up at the moon have changed—drastically so. In fact....

That's no moon.

Some imPorts may recognize the structure in the sky as a familiar, horrifying sight. Many others will have no idea, and if they question any of the government officials on hand at the event, they'll discover that they, too, are caught off-guard and sincerely shocked. Whatever the case, it's clear that something utterly bizarre has happened.

Kind of a downer ending to a party, right?

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It's a difficult thing to miss: that sour little cloud, the dour irritability of a stranger's expression in a place like this. What's so miserable about bats, anyway? They have big fuzzy wings and dumb little faces that always make them look like they've just come home to a surprise birthday party.

Sure, Ruka's not in much of a good mood either, but this is a kind of outcast bitterness that seems a little misplaced. Misdirected.

Ugh.

And so, as Cecelia seems to be wishing for the floor to open up and swallow the regular people in the enclosure, Ruka takes the place beside her. She leans against the wooden partition, looking at the bats.

"Now, what did they ever do to you?" Her voice is level, unconcerned, and obviously isn't speaking to the bats. (Dressed in all black, though, she looks goth enough that she could be.) "Whatever it is, it can't be worth that much ire, can it?"

Cecelia's ear twitches, keen enough to know when talk is directed at her...but not keen enough to know that's, like, not always the case every time something critical is said in earshot.

So technically keen, but untrained.

Anyway, the close and targeted prompt jolts Cecelia out of her sullen stewing enough to leave her briefly discombobulated and looking about until she's fixed on Ruka -- a very...uh...well.

Green hair doesn't grow on trees, does it?

She blinks, then clears her throat, and swallows on some unease bubbling up.

"Ec-excuse me? Sorry? You're asking me about what, now?"

"You were staring," she says, tone still at that banal sort of ease that prevents any note of accusation from bubbling through. She's stating a fact, and that's (mostly) all. "Glowering, more like. Did they do something?"

Finally, she turns her head to look at Cecelia properly — and giving the other girl a chance to see her, in return. Most of Ruka's hair is tied up, but even if she keeps her bangs loose, it doesn't hide the eye patch completely. That's black, too, and obscured enough that the heart-shape isn't readily visible.

"Or, is it something else?"

Being peered at directly sets of fresh worry and suspicion in Cecelia, who in turn glances away, shooting brief looks out of the corners of her eyes intermittently. Honestly -- why ask? It's not like she was even going out of her way to be asked. Or noticed.

Sort of. She is here, after all, so..

"Whhhhy...does it matter?" She winces. That sounds rude. "That is to say -- why are you curious to know, exactly?"

"Well," she says, canting her head a little to the side, returning her attention to the bats, "if they've done something, then it would depend what they have done, wouldn't it? Something minor, or something dangerous. Whether it could escalate. And if not them, then why you're reacting that way. If danger might come from some other place."

She says it vaguely, roundabout. She's deliberately obscuring the accusation that it's this girl who might be the dangerous party here. It's not like Ruka knows her, one way or the other, and gatherings like this all tend to go sour somewhere.

"Either way, if it escalates, it could concern everyone."

This gets her to bristle, starting to get indignant.

"What? Are you talking about? I'm--I'm just. Sitting here! Escalate into what? Like I came here to make a scene or something? Are you serious? That's the last thing on my mind!"

"You're shouting. You'll scare them."

The bats, sure, but moreso the people — a few of the other visitors shoot glances towards the two strange-looking girls, and then quickly push their attention elsewhere, hoping to avoid notice. Ruka, at least, is very used to the sensation of being looked at, of being watched; the discomfort is familiar.

She looks instead at Cecelia, voice still cool, level. "It's a possibility, is all. Just like someone having done something to hurt you is a possibility. Just like nothing having happened, or going to happen, are possibilities. Only, I don't know which one it is."

The way her head tilts to get a better look at the other girl makes the injury to her face more obvious.

"So, will you tell me? Or must I guess?"

Scare them? The prospect of an audience frightens Cecelia into a paranoid silence as she looks about, giving completely oblivious passers-by very pointed, suspicious stares as they go about on their ways.

Red-faced, she hunches a little where she sits, trying to curl in on herself a bit without fully committing to it and, you know. Making a scene. Why is this weird, deadpan...pirate-girl doing this?

"I don't know who the they you're talking about is supposed to be!" she hisses in a loud whisper, one ear twitching. "I am actually! Just. Sitting here! Not talking to anyone! Except you?"

It's a little weird to watch the girl have a slow-motion meltdown; Ruka hasn't even done anything to her? Certainly nothing that would warrant this curling-up hedgehog impression. She looks away from the girl, back to the bats, takes a breath, and then back to the girl.

This is why she doesn't talk to people.

"And before you were talking to me," she says, with put-upon patient slowness, "you were glaring at a couple regular people here, like they had killed your pet dog. That is not a good way to look at people. So, I asked you if they had done anything to you, or if something else happened. Which is a question you still haven't answered."

The...couple...

Ah...

Cecelia feels her stomach sour. Being so transparent is...nauseating. Once upon a time, she felt as if all her thoughts and feelings were so secret and so unique to herself as to make her something special. Not an uncommon thing when one is a child. Wriggling out of that understanding wasn't so much blossoming into adolescence as it was...like being a hermit crab yanked out of its cozy home into the searing sun.

"N...No," she replies slowly, looking pointedly elsewhere. "I don't even know them. I was just." Her ear twitches, and she huffs. "Jealous, okay?"

Jealous?

The girl isn't looking at Ruka, so she doesn't see the open surprise that splashes and fades from her expression, a rock skipping water once and slipping into darkness. She looks instead back towards where those people had been — but, of course, they're long gone by now.

Still. What about them had been so enviable? Their plain lives, their ordinary afternoon, their mundane existences? (Their matching cargo shorts? She glances again at the girl, sitting miserable on the bench in the shadow of the bat enclosure, talking to no one here but Ruka.

Oh. That would do it, wouldn't it? Her expression doesn't so much soften as it does settle, the same almost-calm, almost-bored, entirely tired look she carries everywhere.

"That's not so bad," she offers, voice a little softer. "I mean, of all the possibilities. It's not uncommon, at least. It's... difficult, to be in a place like this alone."

The zoo? The Swear-In? This world on the whole? Ruka doesn't clarify.

"Unbearable at times."

Cecelia instantly regrets having said so aloud and hugs her arms tightly to herself as if to ward herself from deeper scrutiny. The truth is, no one is a harder judge on her thoughts and actions than herself, but she still fears a harsher condemnation -- practically expects it, sometimes. Especially now. How petty can she be in a given moment without even trying? Other people default to being thoughtful, kind, or brave...

"But, but whatever." She hastens to make up for what she deems a blunder, her ears reddening all the more. "Like I said. I'm not doing anything important or, or causing a scene, so you don't have to loom over me like I'm some kind of lit fuse."

"... Looming?" That's new. "... Well, I can't do much to make myself any shorter." Besides sitting down, which in this case would mean sitting beside Cecelia on the same bench. Judging by her reaction to... everything else, Ruka can't imagine her welcoming that kind of press into her personal space. She shrugs instead, speaking light. "You're probably taller than me, actually."

Ruka can sit, or Cecelia can stand — and it is a little harder to maintain a sulk while standing, sometimes.

She turns her attention back to the bats.

"... You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to, but..." She trails off for the moment, lulling; a couple people drift in, and out, only sparing the creatures (and the girls) only a moment of curiosity before moving on. "... mmm, I suppose it's, you don't have to keep it all to yourself, either. If you don't want to."

"Of course not," she mutters, not bothering to hide the cynicism in her tone. "People air their grievances aloud all the time here, yes? Especially to retail workers. It seems a cultural trait among the humans here for all I can tell."

"Oh no, did they put you in retail?" She does nothing to mask the absolute dismay of the prospect. "Jeez, I think that might be the easiest way to make someone hate all humans, even if they are human. It must be even worse, when you're not."

That's confirmation, at least; even among imPorts, humans don't tend to talk about other humans the way this girl does.

"Where'd you end up?"

Cecelia shrugs a little, looking off at the walking path.

"Some joke of a 'magic' shop in De Chima. It attracts all sorts of oddities by nature, unless all are odd by nature. At least it's quiet most of the time; I doubt I'd find an alternative any better unless hermit was a paying occupation."

Ruka shrugs one shoulder, gaze following where the other girl is looking — just in case. "You'd be surprised."

But the path out of the bat house is just as it's always been — cast in proper sunlight, with average people and some reporters and occasional government officials still milling about near the next-door exhibit. Lemurs, maybe?

"What would you rather do? I mean, in addition to hermitage in the woods, I suppose."

"I don't know."

Sort-of true. She knew what she liked, what was pleasing to spend time on. But turning that into work or some sort of deliverable for others? Well, the prospect of that happening was what drove her out into the world to stop it back in her homeland.

"What's why I just try and lie low and put up with the weirdos who are pretty adamant that card trickery is a noble calling." She rolls her eyes.

"I doubt there are many better alternatives at this point."

"Maybe not," she says, folding her arms behind her back, meandering to a different segment of the bat house, looking anywhere but at the other girl, "but stacking up your miseries like that, you're only building yourself a place for your heart to die."

Pot, kettle.

"At the very least, other work would pay more."

"Maybe."

But she certainly doesn't sound convinced. Why would she? Random, green-haired, one-eyed girl out here giving life advice...she's been to the Feywild, she knows better than the take all things at face-value!

...Even if she kind of wants to. It'd make life so much easier to have a clear, uncomplicated path. One that didn't elicit dread, thanks.

"What's your suggestion, then. Based on your experience." If she's so knowledgeable!

"Mine? Well, it's a little hard to say, when I don't know what you enjoy, or what you're good at."

There's a sense of interest in the way the other girl talks, even if she's trying to tamp it down, the way a beast might watch motion in the grass before deciding whether or not it's food; Ruka keeps her apparent attention in a casual drift, moving from the bats, to the passing people, to the bustle outside the enclosure — anywhere else, to let the girl believe she's shadowed behind her illusory dismissals.

"Or a better sense of what you can't stand. Like me, my body can't tolerate a lot of time around other people, or new people all the time; I get sick easy. So, when they tried assigning me to shops and salons, it was miserable." She doesn't uncross her arms, but she speaks as though she were counting off on her fingers. "I'm not very strong, so physical labor is right out. With all that, I'm better kept indoors, and even better at a desk. For a while, there was civil service, which wasn't too bad. You can start at a low enough rung that you don't need to know how everything works, but, you're not really at the mercy of every person you meet, either."

She shrugs, and finally looks back towards the girl. "These days, it's contract work for me — the kind of thing I can produce remotely, and get paid without having to go anywhere for it. I suppose it's pretty close to being a hermit, in that regard — I don't have to meet anyone at all, if I don't want to."

Remote...remote is appealing. But Cecelia is still weighted with doubts on her own behalf, because honestly? What could she possibly offer that anyone would want, let alone pay for...remotely?

...Aside from mega-creepos who fetishize imPorts and/or elves that she refuses to engage with just on principle.

...That just makes her wonder about this girl's principles for contract work.

Hm.

She huffs through her nose, closing her eyes and sitting back, crossing her legs.

"Sounds almost ideal," she admits. "Congratulations."

She gives the girl a Look.

"... I'm an artist. I sell paintings." She sees that judgment, girl. don't think she doesn't. "I'm not trying to brag, or anything — you asked. But there's more options than, well, retail."

Cecelia doesn't see it, but she feels it, and that's indicative by how her ear twitches. She didn't say anything about bragging, gosh! Stop judging her!!!

"For artists, yes," she replies stiffly. "I'll have to consider it for my own case, if it's even feasible. Thank you."

"As I said. I can't really give you advice for your situation, if you're not willing to say anything about it."

It's impossible to help someone who doesn't want it, or isn't ready for it, Ruka figures, but it was worth a shot. She shrugs, giving the girl a final look-over.

"Best of luck. I'll let you get back to your bat-friends."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Happy five, I feel alive

o2;

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