annexedlogs | Open Log

Open Log

Who: Layla and OPEN
What: Mini-missions and downtime
When: Throughout the month
Where: Around the Witch's Camp
Content Warnings: Possible violence, illness

I. Propaganda: Media
In one of the small parks in the Magitech district, there is a pack of children, ages ranging from four to eight, chasing a stuffed ragdoll that skitters and scampers with a stumbling gait, weaving around its pursuers, ducking between the taller ones' legs, and occasionally bouncing harmlessly off some obstacle, living or otherwise.

Mostly, it avoids passers by. Mostly.

The source of the thing's motion is, presumably, the slim dark-haired woman sat on a nearby bench, gaze unfocused, video camera set up next to her and trained on the spectacle.

It isn't until, through concerted effort, four of the children simultaneously tackle the doll with a gleeful and only slightly bloodthirsty cheer that she snaps back to attention, wincing slightly and rubbing her temples, then pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand. It's only then that she seems to notice she's gained an audience, and flashes a weary smile.

"That wasn't you at the end, was it?" she asks. Maybe it was. Maybe it was a tree. Navigating the world without proper sensory organs isn't the easiest feat, after all.

II. The Weather Wizards
Today, it's freezing rain. Layla stands just outside the zone of hostile weather, frowning at the ice-slicked street. She hadn't actually intended to go chasing trouble today, but her destination is on the other side of the chaos, and she's tired enough - head pounding and stomach sour - that she has no desire to detour several blocks because some idiot has decided they need to get alien internet famous.

She glances sidelong, and maybe you're out visiting the markets with her, or maybe she just recognizes you from a briefing, or around the barracks, or those early raids on the Sylphid's facilities, but regardless, she smiles, though there's an exasperated edge to it, and it doesn't quite touch her eyes.

"Any bets on how long it will take us to sort this one out?"

III. Around the Camp
Layla isn't usually difficult to find - she has coffee at Cyborg most mornings, teaches a self-defense course at a small studio several afternoons a week, and spends much of her free time training, in the library, or making a circuit of various markets, window-shopping and listening to gossip.

Usually being the operative word. The first couple weeks of the month, she's less in sight, harder to pin down. And when she can be, she looks pinched and tired, like she hasn't been sleeping well, or is fighting some illness.

Whatever it is, she seems to throw it off towards the end of the month, sliding back into what passes for her usual routine. If she occasionally looks a little distant, attention caught by something not immediately apparent - what of it? That can't be so uncommon here.

Wildcard
If you have an idea for something else, go for it, or shoot me a PM to plot!

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"I'm afraid not," she says, and there's a note of genuine regret in her voice. Being stuck here, worlds away from home, is bad enough. Being stuck here alone?

She'd had just a taste of that, before she'd found Steven during the orientation briefing, and it was enough to last her a lifetime.

"Unless they've learned to change their appearance. It's one of the tricks people who wind up learning magic can do."

There's a flicker of...something, disappointment, probably. He can't say he's surprised to hear it but it's one of the few things he'd happily accept to be proven wrong in. "Oh. Well...I guess they'd be hard to miss if they were. Mikey'd be easy to locate by loudness alone." The attempted smile doesn't want to stick and Donnie's not particularly in the mood to try to keep it there.

It's a different expression altogether when Layla mentions magic. He's definitely got some conflicted feelings on the matter. "Right, the...planetary alignment thing, was it?" He makes a face as he looks at his hands. "Sounds like a handy trick though. Most of the time we'd just claim we were in cosplay if we ran into humans in public. Guess it doesn't matter so much here, huh?"

"Yeah. The planetary alignment thing." Her own smile shades a little wry. "Takes some getting used to, whichever way you land. And no, it shouldn't matter as much here - humans make up the majority of the population, but this was apparently a spaceport before the Sylphid started invading, and the make-up of the camp reflects that."

"Heh, that's an understatement if ever I heard one." Donnie is still questioning how exactly it all sorted itself out, and not thinking it fair at all how he'd 'landed.' He sighs.

"That's true enough. One less thing to worry about for me, but I guess it never hurts to be cautious. ...you been here long?"

"A little over four months now," Layla says, quickly enough that it's clear she's been actively keeping track. "I was part of the first batch of people the Sylphid brought here from other realities."

Which still feels incredibly strange to say, for all that she manages to make it sound matter-of-fact.

Months. It could be worse but having a number to compare to still makes for a troubling perspective. Donnie's never been away from home for that long, much less his family.

"Oh..." He tries not to look too startled by that but he's not sure how good of a job he's doing there. "Wait, so it's only been a recent development?"

"Yeah," Layla says. "On the up side, that means they still don't know quite what to expect from us - skills, technology, any powers we might have if we opt to have our chips removed."

On the down side, an expansionist force taking an interest in alternate realities can't possibly bode well for those realities. She's been looking for an explanation for their abduction that isn't 'preparing the ground for a full-scale invasion', and so far, she's come up blank.

Donatello fingers his chin as he considers this. "That's...not exactly reassuring. These chips are still somehow cutting us off from abilities we should have- it doesn't make sense..." He makes a face. "And that they managed to implant something like that at all just does not sit well with me- I want this thing out but at the same time it's... it doesn't seem like something so simply put in, much less removed."

He tucks his arms around himself with a shiver, not wanting to think about how bad things could go with such a procedure, shoving down his discomfort with a frown.

She grimaces slightly, and dips her head in acknowledgment. "The chips are definitely one of the more viscerally disturbing parts of all of this," she says. "I do know a few people who've had them removed, and haven't suffered any ill effects. But it's a judgment call - keeping it in makes it easier to infiltrate Sylphid territory. For now, at least."

"I guess that's...kind of reassuring," Donnie says, although not sounding completely convinced of it.

"What happens if you don't have a chip and go wandering into their territory? That sounds kind of backwards otherwise... Then again, I guess if they keep tight tabs on people like that..." He makes a face.

"It does, doesn't it?" Layla says, swallowing a sigh. Blended with magic as it frequently is, the technology of the Broken World can be infuriatingly counterintuitive.

"They use the chips to track anyone they can't or haven't possessed. They've got a way to detect living people, and a way to detect other Sylphid, so anyone who's not one of them and not chipped stands out. If someone could crack the mechanism they use to identify one another, we might be able to spoof it - but that's well above my pay grade."

"Kinda like Tiles and Airtags, hah..." The whole being possessed thing is still all kinds of unsettling and Donnie can't help but cringe every time he has to think about it.

"Do not want. But that is all kinds of annoying. I feel like if it were that easy to fake out the system then something would have been figured out by now. Not that that means I won't tryyy..."

"One benefit of people coming from a dozen or so different realities," she says, giving him a small, crooked smile. "We're not all going to have the same tech - we're not all going to even have the same concept of how to build similar tech. Makes it harder to integrate, but more likely for there to be someone from somewhere who can solve the difficult problems."

The softshell rubs his hands together. "'Tis very true. And even if we aren't familiar with what all kind of mishmash they use here, that just makes it all the more interesting to figure it out. Of course there's also this magitech business. Two years ago I would've scoffed at the idea- a fusion of technology and technology? Heh, practically blasphemy!"

"It has to be a function of how widespread magic is here," Layla muses. "If half the population's capable of magic, even if most of them don't learn much beyond the basics, it only makes sense to try to integrate it with the local technology. They'd be losing out on too many opportunities if they didn't."

"A double-edged sword. Clearly the opposition's got the same access to resources in those areas. And this whole situation's been going on way longer than we've been here, right?" Donnie sighs. "I'm already getting way ahead of myself- I haven't even found out if pizza exists around here."

She blinks once at that, then utters a quiet laugh. "I can help you with that part, at least. There's a pizza cart in the Xin Night Market. Some of it's a little on the weird side - the owner likes to get a bit experimental sometimes - but it's recognizably pizza. I'm not sure if that means there are people here who handed down recipes from Earth, or if it's just an inevitable evolution of flatbread-based meals."

Well that certainly gets his attention. Donnie brightens almost instantaneously at that. It's amazing what a little pizza can do.

"Oh thank Lombardi!" He was beginning to wonder if he had to help people reinvent it here, and there are reasons why Mikey's the cook of the family. "I'm used to weird pizza, no problems there. Usual place my fam eats at? Run by yōkai. Xin Night Market, that's...over in cybertown, right?"

"Yeah, it is. Great place to burn an evening every now and then. They seem to have a little bit of everything there. It's a good place to pick up tech on a budget, especially if you're confident in your ability to do some repairs."

She pauses a moment, then smiles and offers a hand. "I'm Layla, by the way."

"Well, now I definitely need to check that place out," he grins, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Probably be the best way to start working out the learning curve for the tech around here."

He blinks then, smile softening as he clasps her hand to shake. Better late than never. "Donatello. Or Donnie, I know it can be a mouthful."

"It's nice to meet you," Layla says, and despite the rockiness of their initial meeting, it's genuine.

"Let me know if you need a guide in the Electric Heart. I'm free most evenings."

"Sure will." Having a guide doesn't sound like a bad idea and is certainly more agreeable than outright admitting having the company would be nice. And if this is how it is to live around people normally, it's not so bad.

"Now, about that pizza..."

"Well, you've definitely got your priorities lined up," she says with a laugh. "Come on, this way."

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....wow that was a dumb typo I made up there

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