trustfelled | Welcome.

The last thing you remember hearing is static.

There were words in there, perhaps, quiet whispers like the rustling of leaves, like the crinkling of paper, like rust being scraped off a knife. The words aren't anything you'll remember, but they're there, and there are a lot of them washing over you, and it might be concerning if it weren't so warm where you're lying.

You wake feeling disoriented, like you've been asleep for a long time.

Of course, it's probably odd that you're waking up just now - perhaps you were in the middle of something important, perhaps you were waiting for something, or maybe you were just going about your day, but even before the whispering came you can clearly remember doing something back home. Can't you? Something else. Something that wasn't looking around the room you've found yourself in.

It's not your room, either. Not the one you're used to.

The room here is grey and white and tile; even if the bed is nice (and the bed is nice, it feels like it's been designed to cater just to you, maybe if you keep your eyes closed you can pretend it's a favor), the room itself is spartan and oppressing. The walls are cracked and the floors are in disrepair, but despite that there's not enough noise - it's silent, the quietness of it pressing in on you, and even if you can't see any cameras you get the distinct feeling that for good or ill, someone is watching over you as you get up.

That might be enough to make you move, to make you not want to stay there. But even if you stick around for a while to look around in there, the walls hold firm despite their decrepit state and the pervasive silence isn't going away - if anyone's in the rooms near you, you can't hear them. If you want answers, you're going to have to leave. Be sure you grab the key sitting on your desk on the way out.

Once you step out of the room into the hallway you'll most likely find yourself face-to-face with other confused people who feel as though they don't belong here either. Maybe you'll find something if you explore together; maybe it's safer in numbers.

Wherever you end up going - and there are several places to go - you might want to check the large room toward the center of the communal area of the building. A subdivided foyer is here; at first glance, it even seems to offer you a look at the outside. Of course, once you've gotten over that particular disappointment, you might want to check out the walls, where you'll find some very interesting information about yourselves hanging on the walls. There's some other framed information that you'll most likely want to get a look at as well, seeing as how it could be the key to escaping this place.

Although, speaking of keys... Despite your best efforts, you won't find any doors. The windows you find here and there are far more durable than they should be as well, and any attempts to break out won't work. It seems you're stuck here for the time being.

Maybe your fellow captives have some thoughts on all of this.

Welcome to Beacon General Hospital.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A very specific one, and one designed to unnerve the people gathered here, I'd imagine.

[Old McOld here probably wasn't who Greed was expecting. She stands there with her key in her hand, looking over the rules herself. Or at Greed; after all, a stranger is a stranger.]

They've made their purpose clear, if not the reason behind it.

[Well, even if she does look old, she's gorgeous, so. Priorities.]

Whoever gathered us here isn't fucking around, that's pretty clear.

Three hundred, though? Maybe it's a typographical error.

[She gestures to the other case, the one with the Patients' profiles.]

[He frowns.]

If it's off, it's only off by a couple of decades. I'm not sure.

[Yes, he is that old.]

{Sakura pauses for a second, then nods to take this in.]

Well, well. There are things in this world that the general population doesn't see, wouldn't you think? Almost seems a little familiar.

That's true no matter where you go. There's always plenty people don't know, or don't want to know.

And here that includes centuries-old bartenders. Or is it common where you are?

I'm not a bartender. The information on my profile is a lot of random crap from someone who didn't do their homework.

Then how would you describe yourself? It's better to hear from the source.

A renegade who was caught by the person he was rebelling against.

Not the most elegant of descriptions, but it's the truth.

Captured twice in a row, then? That's bad luck if anything.

Yeah.

I can't exactly say I've ever had much in the way of good luck.

It's the way of the world. Or, well... Perhaps I should amend that, but I'll save it for when this theory is proven either way.

The only thing that matters right now is figuring out where the hell we are, and what we have in store for us. Things don't look good at the moment; I'd try to say otherwise, but I've never been that much of an optimist.

That's just fine with me. Sometimes you've got to see things for how they are.

Glad you agree.

This has the potential to get messy very quickly, and it's going to take a lot of effort to keep it all from going to shit.

Really, they might not even have needed to bother with the rules to cause a stir in the first place.

I wonder what their end-goal is, because at the moment it doesn't sound entirely thought out.

It's always possible it's simple sadism.

Wouldn't surprise me. I've seen my fair share of sadism before.

It does seem that there's been more effort, but we'll have to see. The rules did mention investigation.

I'd hate to think of what, exactly, we'll be investigating.

It could be part of the game. See if we really will escape.

....Yeah. That sounds like a possibility.

Welcome.

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