(OPEN) probably the least secret secret meeting, all things considered

[elswhisperer]

WHO: Setsuna F. Seiei (elswhisperer) & you!
WHAT: The code word log!
WHERE: City Hall Park
WHEN: July 12
WARNINGS: N/A


[ Over the course of the past few days, you may have noticed simple, nondescript flyers posted here and there across the city. All handwritten, they list a location (a particular statue in the City Park) along with a time and date (3:00 PM, July 12). Below that, an extremely brief message:

For establishing safe communications.

- moment.

On the day of, you'll find a young man in a red scarf waiting by the named statue. He has with him sheets of blank paper, pens, and pencils. ]

My name is Setsuna F. Seiei. 'Moment' from the network. The purpose of this meeting is creating a way to safely disseminate information to each other all at once. If one of us found an exit, or determined the identity of our captors, we'd be jeopardizing ourselves by revealing it openly over the network. At the same time, the network is our most efficient method of communication. We need to make the most of all the tools at our disposal.

We can accomplish that with the use of code language. One that's not complicated; that anyone could remember and pass along. What that code is and what we want to communicate with it is something one person can't determine for themselves. That's why I wanted us all to meet.

Without cooperation, we're not gonna get anywhere.

[ ooc: just a couple things! go ahead and mingle/threadhop as you like (especially bc i may not be the fastest tagger rn), and if setsuna has already mentioned to your character that he's been working on something, feel free to assume he left some kind of vague message about checking flyers over the inboxes or smth. ]

Comments

[strongroots]

[ Robby doesn't arrive on the dot, but he does shows up. Unsure about the fliers, unsure about everything here, but he wants to know shit, so going to shit is kind of how you find things out, right? Even if there's a nervous energy like a tick he just can't get rid of, that he's working to keep buried.

He keeps it down with folded arms, keeping his head down too, though looking at the other faces around. Sucks on the inside of his cheek, his shoulders slightly hunched. If basics are going to be talked about, he wants to hear about that. But as for the topic brought to this meeting: ]

Are codewords really gonna matter? [ He speaks up, while somehow still keeping his voice down--not to any whisper, but it's clear he's uncomfortable. Sucking on the inside of his cheek again, but continuing: ] I don't know what everyone's found out so far, but I know we all somehow showed up and don't remember it. I can understand languages I never did, and everytime I try getting rid of the phone, swap where I sleep, it's there with me again.

[ It's fucking crazy. It's fucking crazy. Saying it out loud makes his voice rise a little more. ]

No one else is here 'cept us in this entire city, they're running everything. We don't think they're gonna know where we go or pick up on a few codewords?

[gripper]

You've got a good point. They already know, somehow, when we've committed a crime--or what they perceive as it.

( that guy on the network who got handcuffed and all. )

I did hear a real interesting theory from an acquaintance of mine--I'm sure he didn't think that much of it, but maybe you will.

( kromer rests against one of the statues, ignoring what it looks like in her peripheral. )

Perhaps the city itself ( she continues a little slower, for dramatics, ) is alive? It called us. Why? Who knows. But no one else is here, and those kiosks don't know all that much, either.

[strongroots]

[ He looks with the voice, sees the haircut before the rest of the face, but nevermind what's going on there. It's the theory that's important here, which makes Robby laugh--or at least scoff. A sharp, abrupt thing, brow shaping incredulously.

Someone isn't used to the absurd, here. ]

What does that even mean? How does a city call anyone? [ What reason? What purpose? His mouth is agape, trying to find more things to say--what even to say, with everything else already nonsensical in the way. ] A city can't just make people appear.

[gripper]

( what's wrong with her haircut, it's fine, it's great even-- not as great as her ever-present smile but all the same! )

Have you ever wanted to see someone again so badly, or wished they were by your side... and then by some wonderful chance, one of those happened? That's what I mean by calling. ( if the city is alive and has a will, it can want people to come. simple as that. ) I'm not saying it holds any water, though. Just throwing an idea out there.

[strongroots]

[ People appearing that you want around? Sounds fake.

But it makes about as much sense as anything else, a kind of thinking that Robby steps in and out of wanting to get involved in. So he shrugs, a listless yet hopeless thing that takes Robby's gaze away from the woman.

Someone else might have better things to say about living cities, but it isn't going to be him. ]

[coolerjunpei]

You got a better idea?

[Is the unspoken "wiseass" tacked onto the end there implied, or should he say it more witheringly a second time-- No, he came to this meeting to get something done, and he knows full well that a bunch of people arguing at cross purposes don't get things done, so fine: he holds his hands up immediately, acquiescing.]

Sorry. I just mean we have to do something, right? We can't sit around and wait for some fresh bullshit to react to.

[Like people getting handcuffed for no reason, or murdered--]

Even if they figure us out, it's a faster way to get the point across. I'm talking about an emergency escape, or something—that'd go a lot faster if everybody knew that "market crash" meant "get the hell out of the apartments now, we all need to be in the bowling alley." Something like that.

[strongroots]

[ Robby catches the tone, and catches the guy in his line of sight when he speaks up. His expression doesn't shift; he just continues to bite on some inside of his mouth as the other guy continues on, changes his approach.

He listens, then shrugs a little with a tip of his head. ]

The purpose matters. I don't think that's a bad idea, [ because he isn't trying to be the unhelpful ass here, trying to keep his tone down (still tense), ] I just don't know if we need anything that's trying to keep secrets.

If they know how we move or what we do, we're fucked 'til we know how. [ And, speaking of that: ] Finding out how or what they react to would be good. See what gets reactions. Where.

[coolerjunpei]

I think secrets make people feel better, [is all he really has to offer about that aspect of all this. He can't help but remember the staunch adherence to calling each other code names, a year ago on the Gigantic, even if it had been ultimately pointless in the end...

People need something to cling to. He shrugs, though; he'll let it go.]

You see the handcuffs guy? He wouldn't admit to what he did, but there must have been something. But that's an idea; I did talk to handcuffs guy about trying to get cuffed on purpose and having a bunch of people keep watch, to figure out how they do it... That's kind of both ideas in one?

[And he doesn't think he needs to say this, but also he's still going to say this,] I believe the other guy talking about murder online, though. No need to test that one.

[strongroots]

[ ...yeah, Robby read about those. ]

...so, city knows if someone gets murdered. [ But did it happen where there's cameras? is what his mind thinks, and where that thought is staying. ] Vandalism gonna get us in trouble? Is anyone gonna find out if we do it where there aren't any cameras?

Maybe this place expects us to be good little citizens. [ It doesn't explain other parts, the things that can't be explained by cameras, that can't be described like magic, but--Robby takes a breath, lets it out. ]

But we sure, like, nothing's been done to us? I mean, people see a mist if they try to leave the city, then they just go in circles? People losing their memories?

[ Isn't that weird too? ]

[coolerjunpei]

Oh, they're definitely doing something to us.

[Spoken with the grim, unshakeable confidence of a guy who's been through enough knockout drugs in his life to, you know, trust his gut on this one. He rubs his wrist, idly, frowning--]

I didn't know about the mist. Maybe something's in the air supply...? I don't know. If I had to guess, it's probably not in the food, because there's no guarantee we're all going to ingest enough of it to make a difference. So that leaves air...

[Still, there's no way of knowing without doing tests he's not sure they're equipped to do, at the moment. Bummer.]

We should probably assume we're gonna get caught in whatever test we try to do.

[strongroots]

[ He's got an idea, though he doesn't really want to rush out and voice it. And when he thinks about, and some of the info he's gotten isn't...exactly from reliable sources. Not with one guy more freaked out than him, so-

he'll figure to ask this one: ] Have you heard anything about food just showing up in restaurants? And the shops restock without anyone seeing it happen.

[ That all real? ]

[coolerjunpei]

[Hm--well, he's definitely aware of those things happening, so he assumes this question is going somewhere... He nods.]

Yeah, or we'd have to be way more careful with the food already... They threw us a whole stupid party without anyone noticing it getting set up, too. Right out in front of City Hall. What the hell, right? Nobody looked out their window all night?

[Bullshit!!! But okay, okay.]

And...?

[strongroots]

[ He's really biting on his bottom lip here, but--fuck it. ]

We don't remember how we got here? Someone thinks they killed someone and they don't remember anything? They're still alive? That can't be the air--that's something screwing our memories, our heads. What if it's scientific? Someone messed with us and we just black out?

[ He moves out a hand from where it's folded, gesturing to the ground needlessly. ] How else can we ditch shit and it's right back with us the next day?

[coolerjunpei]

There could be drugs in the air, who knows for sure...

[Still, it's not like he's married to the air idea, so - sure, add "just blacking out sometimes" to the list of options. He'll consider it, with maybe a concerning lack of, well, concern, but a guy can get pushed around with knockout drugs only so many times before what's been done is less of a worry than what they'll be made to do next.

So, scientific-messing-with. Hmm.]

What would it take to make us black out? A chip in our brains? I haven't lost any time since whatever happened on the train, so it's gotta be an individualized thing.

[strongroots]

[ Thank you for bringing up brain chips first so he didn't have to, market crash guy. ]

You don't think you lost time. You can bring a bunch of people from all over and make us understand each other, and you're not trying to test something? [ Which sounds like the most paranoid shit, but Robby scoffs. ] It could be bullshit, it sounds like bullshit, but if someone messed with our heads and can make us think shit? I'm not doubting it. If we can't walk to places right in front of us, we don't notice things changing in front of us, there's got to be some reason behind it.

But we won't know unless we have someone who can do something about that and the equipment for it. Drugs too.

[ Just so he acknowledges the drugs angle. ]

wild...card? ish

[zangetsu]

（ green jacket, short brown hair, american. it gives him enough to go on, but he still finds himself scanning the crowd at the fringes, reluctant to step into the throng until he's located the guy. ichigo isn't really a people-person at the best (or worst) of times, so he's got his hands jammed in his pockets, radiating a desire to be left alone that's less petulant and more massive personal space bubble.

once he spots rob, he heads that way, twisting to avoid an impact from a hurried passer-by. he doesn't bother with a dour look — they're all here, all stressed, and all have better things to do with their time than pick fights over nothing. but by the time he's within arm's length, he's rubbing at the back of his neck tiredly.

true to his word, ichigo clocks in at just under six feet tall, wearing a shirt that says: 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑴𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵. he moves like a martial artist — light and quick in a way that's deliberate and studied rather than some natural impulse. and that orange hair? we're talking almost radioactive.

he gives the guy a nod, but doesn't offer a handshake or anything like it. honestly, it doesn't even occur to him that's a thing westerners might expect. ）

Rob, right?

[strongroots]

[ Who the fuck shakes hands, who does he look like, a dad?

Robby hadn't forgotten about their agreed meeting. But this whole gathering, the growing agitation of how utterly out of his depth he feels, even the dumbass theories he's coming up in his head that he hates--Robby isn't thinking about it consistently. He gives a look once or twice for orange hair, but in trying to follow the different conversations and points and wondering what he even believes--

Once he sees the orange hair (and the rest of the guy accompanying it), Robby blinks, a frown matched by the pinch of his brows, and then it clicks a second later, or so he hopes. You know, that another tall, orange-haired Japanese guy didn't happen to show up in town.

(And congrats, he does hover over Robby and his 5'08 height.)

He lets him speak first, and doesn't take out the hands he's now got shoved in his pockets. But he'll give a nod at the name, breathes out as he answers. ]

Yeah, that's me. Kurosaki--I got it right?

[ Might be saying it wrong, might be saying it right. You be the judge. ]

[zangetsu]

（ one corner of his mouth quirks up faintly, half a smile. of all the things he expected an american would ask him, inquiring as to whether or not they got his name right was pretty far down on the list.

(look, national stereotypes exist everywhere, as it happens.)

but it's enough that his tone's just the slightest bit less gruff when he responds: ）

Yeah.

（ that settled, he shifts until he's leaning up against the wall, shoulders flush against it. it's not like mortar and brick really provides a safe barrier in case someone feels like sneaking up on them, but it makes the human part of his brain happier, anyway. ）

I just got in. I miss anything?

[strongroots]

[ Cool, that was a lucky shot. It's only thanks to karate his mouth has gotten any use to Japanese words, and that's still from an American perspective. He'll remember that, look over to the other people gathered as Kurosaki gets comfortable. ]

They wanna make code words 'case anything goes to shit. Hide them around, ideas about what's happening to us. Some talk about those questions we got on the phones when we came to on the train.

[ And plenty more, but that's what pops up first. Except, ah-- a beat. ]

Someone made a way of posting anonymously. To each other.

[ That last part wasn't stated, he thinks, but it's what Robby's guessing. He's not here with much faith about such a trick working on the undefinable them behind their situation. ]

[zangetsu]

I'm pretty sure if anyone in the room has their phone on them it's a moot point.

（ the human technology might not have been there in 2003 — but the shinigami tech sure was. he thinks about his soul badge, that transmitted his every move and word back to soul society for almost two years, and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. ）

We can't really trust anything we find here, either. Or even the walls. If you're gonna go to the trouble of kidnapping a hundred people to a weird made-up town, you're gonna have everything bugged to start.

[strongroots]

I ditched the phone I got the first day, and another was there the next morning.

[ See, now this is what Robby's thinking. The whole code idea troubles him, if not the sentiment behind it, plus: ]

There's too many of us to keep track of secret codes, people get screwed with if they get killed or kill someone? [ At least he's becoming slightly numb to that subject. Like an event he can detach all meaning from. Maybe. ] My idea is we have something tracking us inside, bullshit it sounds. But food appears in front of us in a blink, the thing you said about the fog?

I'm with the experiment theory.

[ Some might say magic is involved....not this guy!!! ]

[zangetsu]

（ yeah. maybe. or the town's a decoy, like the fake karakura soul society built to try and fool aizen. which would mean they're less experiment and more bait. ）

We might. （ why does he sound so entirely unbothered by it, though. ） Without knowing how they even get us here... like this place looks pretty American to me, but there are people here from hundreds of years ago, hundreds of years from now. A bunch of different worlds. Some not even from Earth. That kind of power is pretty unfathomable.

[strongroots]

[ ... ] Are we sure that's all true? [ He knows Kurosaki brought up about the powers thing before, but-- ] How can that even happen? You said you've seen no one do anything, and doesn't it make more sense people just think this crap?

[ Sorry, Kurosaki, Robby is showing his colours: of being a basic ass human. He just sounds confused as he says it, with still some of that underlying stress of their situation.

It makes no sense. ]

[zangetsu]

Sure, people could be brainwashed or lying.

（ but the thing is... why would they lie? it's hard enough getting one person to keep a bullshit story straight, but so many of them? and it would have to be many of them. ）

I don't know. I'm not going to spend a lot of time dwelling on it. Kinda above my paygrade.

[strongroots]

[ Robby doesn't particularly want to push it, either. He doesn't know what to think, though he's not one inclined to just think people have powers or are from future or past.

So he falls a little silent briefly, letting the subject slide. Asking eventually: ] So what is your paygrade? Investigating, testing limits? People were talking about the kiosk and trying to get it to tell something.