{This isn't the world I know

[sobloodyinspired]

Who: Newt & YOU!
What: He's newly free, after 2wks of containment in a chromed-out medical room. He's exploring and getting familiar with the lay of the land.
When: The rest of August 2019
Where: Various places in Anchor.
Warnings: Newt comes with your usual post-Apocalyptic canon warnings like, but not limited to: Depression, anxiety, paranoia, lethal viruses, violence, government conspiracies, zombie-like creatures, etc... these are not always present, and can be avoided if necessary, but they could come up in any thread.

[First day]

Newt has spent two weeks stuck and isolated in a room by himself. If not for the talk-box, he probably wouldn't have made it this far, if he's honest. He got right and proper bored in there, especially as the clarity returned to him. That was the wildest part for him, if he's honest. He had spent his last weeks of memory deteriorating at a wildly rapid pace-- that's how The Flare worked, the more complacent you were, the slower it acted, but the Trials that WICKED had thrown them into, the panic and the action they were called to all made it advance so much quicker, suddenly-- so to say that he was somehow... treated, if not cured, just didn't make sense to him at all.

He isn't sure how to feel about it, either. If it were possible all this time, why hadn't they just done it? Treatment that has be taken every month, every week, every day is better than becoming a mindless thing that doesn't even know its own name. But then some of the people he'd talked to before said it was a different place, different world all together somehow, right? He's still not completely convinced of that, but he doesn't know what to make of anything just yet.

He wanders until he finds a room filled with strange suits and masks and tanks. He doesn't know what they're all for, but it reminds him of WICKED, the facility they'd held them in when they offered to return their memories to them. Newt stubbornly refused, and he's sure it's better that way. Not remembering the family he lost when he woke up in the Maze three years ago. Remembering would make everything worse. He stands by that choice.

From there, he wanders out and around each level of the colony just to see what all there is to offer there. He makes notes in his head about what is where, though he's sure it'll take more than a few tries to remember it all. The place is contained, but it's definitely huge, possibly bigger than the Glades, but it's hard to tell with the way Anchor is broken up, rather than one giant flat of grass. He visits each area and does some cursory exploring, but he thinks he'll leave the bulk of that to another day, when he's had time to adjust to his new-found accessibility.

He eventually finds his way to the housing area, not entirely sure where he's supposed to be, or if he's just supposed to pick a spot and call it his. He wanders a bit idly, and may look a bit confused if anyone catches him.


[The rest of the month]
Newt doesn't do well with sitting idle, and he's honestly had enough of that in the last two weeks to last awhile. This place reminds him so much of the life that had been, while a bit odd to start, so much simpler than anything in recent history. His three years in the Glade weren't perfect, but he'd found... something of a purpose there. In helping with fields and building and whatever else needed to be done about the place. He thought maybe he could just treat being here like that, find something to work on.

He mostly hangs around the agriculture area. There fences and barns and other structures were dilapidated and run-down, in major need of fixing, though it was obvious that the lot of people here had already started working on it bit by bit. More than once, he starts wandering and gathering pieces of busted wood. They may not be whole anymore, and some of them may be too weak to reuse, but he knows how to make the best of shuck resources. He's done it before. Making piles of what's around is about the best place he knows to start.

At some point, he wanders into the research and development area. He can't say he's very comfortable with what he finds there, it just smacks of WICKED again, and makes every muscle in his body tense. He keeps glancing around, like he's looking for signs of recording devices or cameras or who knew what else. Anything that looked off or weird or out of place.

His discomfort at all the computer screens and other various tools around the place distracted him, glancing over his shoulder when he thinks he heard something and he runs blindly right into something, sending pieces of who-knows-what flying and clattering to the floor. "Bollocks." He mutters to himself, kneeling to pick up what he'd knocked over.

He may also be found wandering just about anywhere within the city, but he isn't venturing outside the protective dome surrounding the colony, though. He's had more than enough adventuring for awhile.

Comments

housing area;

[redwinekindofgirl]

Julie has done reasonably well for herself as far as a room is concerned. Finding one hadn't been difficult - the place left everything open, much like Hadriel had, and it had just been a matter of finding an empty one and deciding she wanted to take it.

She's on her way out, heading up to the agriculture level to do some more poking around, when she spots a face that's familiar.

"Newt?" While she's no stranger to people looking almost identical (Cashmere, anyone?), she can't help but blurt the name out. God, did they actually let the poor guy out of isolation after all?

"Uh, hey, wow. Did you break out?"

[sobloodyinspired]

The call of his name makes him spin to face the source of the voice and a smirk halfheartedly tries to crack across his face, but... well. It doesn't quite manage to make it. "Hey. Yeah, it's me." He offers an awkward little wave in greeting before wandering a little closer to where she's stood. "No, I didn't break out. They let me out. Did some more scans and... said I was clear. Have to be back in the med wing in fifteen days for another treatment. Not sure if that means it's every two weeks or if it's once a month, but I s'pose I'll find out when I go." There's a beat and he tips his head, squinting curiously. "Do we have calendars here?" By all accounts, he's nothing like the bloke that showed up that first day on the network. There's virtually no traces of the vehemently angry boy of those weeks ago-- almost like a complete flip to the opposite. He's calmer, more collected, if still a little hackle-raised-paranoid. People probably couldn't blame him for that last part, right? Anchor is hardly the easiest adjustment.

[redwinekindofgirl]

"Oh, cool! I mean, I was thinking we were gonna have to crowbar you out of there or something." Possibly. Not knowing what was wrong with him, that might have been a bad idea, but what the hell kind of place would this be to pull someone in and then keep them locked up in quarantine for the entire time? It just didn't track.

Julie shakes her head. "Not that I've seen. I've been keeping track of days same way as I always have. No one back where I'm from even really knows what year it is anymore."

She cracks a small smile at that, though it's a somewhat grim hint of what might have happened where she comes from. "Gets harder to keep track here when there's a shift, if it's bad."

[sobloodyinspired]

"Kinda glad that didn't become necessary." But now that he considers it, he wonders how long the lot of them would've left him before they tried to get him out. Some of them had offered first-pop, but when he refused they seemed to have backed off... Ah, well. In the past and no point dwelling now. "And what way's that? Marks on a wall or something?" That would be the default idea to him, at any rate. "How long have you been here anyway?" He nods his understanding at that, "Yeah, I s'pose there has to be something to make life more difficult than it already is, yeah?"

[redwinekindofgirl]

"Oh, yeah, these shitholes don't wanna make it easy."

There had been something very serious about the way that Newt had told them to leave him where he was. Something that Julie had thought it better not to push against, because he would know better than anyone else if he was safe or not.

"Marks on a wall is as good as anything. I've been using a notebook." But she has to think, when he asks, how long she's been here. "I think it's been... ten weeks, last count? About that. Came in here with the first group. I mean, there was no one else here when we got here, except the bots."

research and development

[itsnotaonesie]

Meanwhile, Peter here feels the most at home in R&D. Not that he'd ever really spent a lot of time in fancy, futuristic labs back home, but he knows how to make this shit work, knows how to fix the shit that doesn't work, and knows how to learn how to work the shit that he doesn't know how to work yet. Okay, so maybe it sounds like a weird way to cope with all this horseshit, but he finds some level of comfort in losing himself in the tech.

And also there's usually nobody around to tell him to turn his music down, but he doesn't really have it cranked up to high today. Otherwise he wouldn't have been able to hear the loud clattering sounds outside his lab. (His lab, he's gonna make a sign for his door and everything and it's going to be all official and super badass this nerd.) With a roll of his eyes, he pushes himself away from whatever overly complicated, likely nanomachine-related project he's working on, and pops his head out the door.

"Kabal, if that's you out there breakin' shi- oh."

Well shit, that's not Kabal at all. It's quarantine guy, Peter was not expecting this.

"Hey, you- you're out of the... the thing. When did they let you out?"

[sobloodyinspired]

Newt sets the tray of metal bits back on the table and turns toward the other boy who-- wow, from up close in person Newt's not sure he's much, if any, older than he is himself. Weird. "Hey," he lifts his hand in an awkward wave. "Sorry, wasn't trying to break things, just--" There's some vague motion with his hand to the tray he'd restored to the table like that somehow finishes the sentence before he concludes with, "yeah." He's really not feeling this lab or-- whatever it is, and the nerves are probably a little more obvious than he'd like. "Few days ago, uh- yeah. They did some scans or something, said be back in the med wing in fifteen days for another injection. Guess... I'm okay?" He doesn't sound so positive about that himself, but he also doesn't know what else to make of it, considering.

[itsnotaonesie]

"It's fine, man. I knock stuff over in here all the time."

Usually on purpose, though, because he wants to steal parts out of broken machines. It still counts.

For once, Peter's not the one doing the awkward fidgeting. What a twist! He steps out of his fancy lab and crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame while he looks Newt over. Not in a checking-you-out sort of way so much as in a 'Oh good you're not dying horribly anymore' sort of way.

"That's great, though! Sounds like they've found a way to keep your condition in check. I mean, you already look like way better than you did before. How are you feeling?"

[sobloodyinspired]

Newt would likely not have noticed if the checking-out was in a checking-him-out-way. Be it because he's oblivious to these things in general or because he is too distracted is an arguable thing. "Yeah, yeah, it's- it's great, I... didn't really think it'd work. None of the cures at home have ever..." He sighs and shakes his head before really looking at Peter properly again, a halfhearted smile tugging up one side of his mouth. "Better, I think? It's weird, it's- I can still feel it, a little bit, but...nothing like it was. I can think clearly and I...feel more like me than I have in weeks."

[itsnotaonesie]

It's all good bro, Peter's one of those dumb oblivious/easily distracted type dudes too. Newt is in good company.

This is all probably the best news Peter's heard since he got here, and he just looks super relieved. For two reasons. Newt being fine (mostly at least) is super good news! Two, now Peter doesn't have to make good on his promise to off this dude if shit were to hit the fan with him.

"That's great, man. I'm sorry everything was so rough for you before, though. Just- anything I can do to help you like, get settled in, let me know."

housing area.

[livingdeadgirl]

Ami never did get around to watching Newt's video. She tried to, but when the first few minutes were just creepy pacing, she decided not to sit through the remaining two hours. Thus, when she sees him wandering aimlessly around the housing block, she doesn't recognize him. Maybe that's for the best?

He doesn't seem much older than her - maybe younger? I mean, he's on the tall side, but dat babyface. Well, whatever. Since he seems a little discombobulated, she waves to get his attention.

"Hey there! Are you lost?" she asks brightly, smiling.

[sobloodyinspired]

He only notices the bird after she starts waving at him to actually get his attention. Well, she's certainly got... a look. He can't recall ever seeing anyone dressed that way, but then again, no one was making fashion statements back home. "Uh- yeah. Sort've? I mean, I just got here." There's a beat and he corrects, "Well, not really, I've been here for two weeks, but I was stuck... I just got released from where they were keeping me." There's another awkward hesitation before he finally offers, "I'm Newt." No last name. Because he doesn't have one. Or at least not one he remembers.

[livingdeadgirl]

Ah, a fellow new arrival! (Sort've.) Ami beams, the enthusiasm a little incongruous with her gloomy appearance - even if she has been going light on the makeup to stretch her supply.

"Hi! Or welcome, I should say!" She seems pretty amused by saying that, so shortly after being the one welcomed herself. "My name's Ami. I must have gotten here not long after you did." She follows that up with a curious tilt of her head, though. "What happened? Somebody locked you up that whole time?"

[sobloodyinspired]

"Uh, yeah. I- I was... sick. So they were making sure that I didn't...get anyone else sick." He nods a little. That's the easiest, softest way to explain it, at least, and given she seemed to have somehow missed his arrival video... he'll take that for what it gives him.

[livingdeadgirl]

"Oh, geez," she says, cringing. "You got quarantined? That's rough. I didn't even know they could do that."

Decontamination was stressful enough - she couldn't imagine having to put in two weeks of what amounted to solitary confinement on top of it. At least it seems to have worked, though? He doesn't look sick, just vaguely deprived, though that's more his outfit than anything.

"You're okay now, though, right? You're not like, contagious or anything?" Just... just to make sure.

Agriculture

[killedwithlove]

Cole had avoided Newt when he was in quarantine.

What was wrong with him felt too much like the Blight and scared him, deep in his gut. Then he had encountered the Not-Fear swarm and that had sent him into hiding for a few days so by the time he starts his exploring again, Newt is out and exploring too.

Most people don't see Cole until he wants to be seen. But there's exceptions. Spirit mediums, sure. But also those who know Despair, who have been desperate to die rather than live with the alternative, who understand the Mercy which comes from a sharp knife in expert hands.

Cole isn't sure if Newt can see him, but he's watching him make piles, standing there, hands twisting together, fingers plucking at the dirty wraps on his hands.

[sobloodyinspired]

If Newt were aware of people outright avoiding him when he was locked up, he can't say he'd blame them. He'd have liked to avoid a lot of things in the past several weeks of his life, but he can't go living backwards, can he? So he's trying his best, now that he can think more clearly and rationally, to focus on moving forward. As Newt moves about, making his piles of wood, he has the distinct feeling of being watched sliding sticky across the back of his neck. As he drops another piece into one of his piles, he stands up and squints into the middle distance. "Someone out there?" He turns a bit to glance over his shoulder for the source of that feeling.

[killedwithlove]

Cole steps down and closer, letting the film around him disappear. "Yes. Most people can't sense me, but you can. You've known Despair, you've needed Mercy. I'm Cole."

He isn't close enough to reach out to, but he's closer, so his voice is clear.

"You're Newt. You had the not-Blight. It scared me."

[sobloodyinspired]

"Sense you?" He cocks his head slightly to one side. "How do you mean?" He nods at the introduction and has opened his mouth to make one of his own before the bloke goes on and tells him his own name. Newt snaps his mouth shut, eyes narrowed suspiciously and he takes half a step backwards. "How d'you know that...?" It doesn't occur to him that perhaps he just saw him talking to others on the network before or anything, it's instantly creepy. Something about the way he just offered Newt's introduction for himself. "s'called The Flare. It's pretty nasty, don't blame you bein' scared, if'm honest."

[killedwithlove]

"Most people don't notice me unless I want them to notice me. You knew I was there, even though I wasn't trying to be seen." Because Newt knew the things that had shaped Cole.

"I know things that hurt and shape and scar. Anyone. Everyone. It reminded me of the Blight, back home, but not quite. It made your Despair, desperate for Mercy, but now you're... not." He tugs on the brim of his hat, pulling it on harder. "That's good."

Housing Area

[kaballin]

Everything here is fucking boring. There's nothing to do but explore and put the city back together. Fuck that noise. He fixed his room and that was enough, let everyone else figure out their own shit.

The only reason he's even leaving is because he's hungry and he ran out of random boxed lunches stolen from Cho's cafeteria service. He has his twin hookswords across his back, long duster jacket on even though the temperature in the residential area is pretty mild. He's still operating under the assumption that he needs to keep everything on him at all times or it might vanish or get stolen.

He rubs his eyes, the lower half of his face covered in a mask with teeth far too long, and too sharp to be human. As he rounds the corner he stops for a second upon seeing Newt. Well look who it is.

"Hey you escaped finally. Saves me the trouble of figuring out where to get a hacksaw."

[sobloodyinspired]

"What? No, I didn't--" he spins toward the source of the voice and jumps a little at the sight he's greeted with. Sure, he'd talked to the bloke that day on the network but... Newt was a bit out of it, and didn't have much in the caring-about-anything department going on at the time. Something about that mask is just incredibly unsettling now that he's clearer minded. "They let me out, I didn't escape." As amazing as a prison break might have sounded, Newt really isn't up for lying so much.

[kaballin]

Kabal smirks a little behind the mask, all six foot four of him towering over this kid. "Out early for good behavior or some shit?"

Well that doesn't make much sense. First of all he didn't know they had a prison or a holding cell to begin with, and that there was someone in charge of it who could let people in or out... that was concerning.

"Might want to start stockpiling shanks for if you get locked back up again."

[sobloodyinspired]

"Whatever you wanna call it, I'm out and m'glad for it." Towering. At least half a foot or more taller than Newt. He's a bit intimidating, not that Newt lets that show right now. He tilts his head a little, curious and confused. "Shanks?" The way he's used that word for the last three years does not fit in this sentence at all. He's not sure he could stockpile friends, okay. There's something really weird about that idea.

[kaballin]

"Yeah. Shanks. Shivs. Whatever you call them. Knives. Something to gut anyone who crosses you." Because that's what he did in prison, and it worked for him, so it's solid advice for anyone else including this kid who's less than half his age. And half his size.

"You look like you might be scrappy with a weapon."