Welcome.

[trustfellowship]

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.

Comments

Profiles

[nachetanya]

That doesn't sound as though it would be healthy for your neck.

[ Nachetanya observes, a little blithely. She has a wry look on her face up at the man, as she herself was flitting around the profiles too, her one arm up near her chin. ]

[enhancements]

[...Aaaaand this girl's got an arm off. Lovely.]

Perhaps not. Although impending arthritis is something of a lesser concern for the time being.

[nachetanya]

Unless you end up snapping your neck into a difficult position while we investigate, it might make things harder to see.

[ She is responding with a pleasant tone, now turning to face him properly. ]

[enhancements]

Trust me, I'll manage.

[jesus christ.]

Somehow I doubt we're going to find anything that we aren't intended to find this early in, anyway.

[nachetanya]

Most likely, [ She agrees ] but those things still need to be found in order to have all the possible information.

[enhancements]

So you've noticed there isn't enough to properly take part in this exercise of theirs.

[nachetanya]

Mmmm. Well, there are ways to kill people here, even if I was disarmed.

[ A beat ]

But what do you mean by that, that there is too little to investigate right now?

[enhancements]

Less that there's too little to investigate, and more that there isn't enough information for anyone in their right mind to attempt murder.

[...This? This is a conversation we're having.]

[nachetanya]

I agree, Mr. Wesker, but would you be willing to tell me why you think so?

[ APPARENTLY. She has read his profile enough to recognize him. ]

[enhancements]

Because I'm not an idiot.

[Yep.]

What we have is a lack of concrete certainties, just vague rules that don't actually clarify much of anything. We have an insistence that we should kill each other because someone told us to, to bring something to an end "early" as opposed to seeing it through to its natural conclusion.

It is what it is. That's all.

[nachetanya]

[ Nachetanya nods, and she looks over at the rules again. And after reading them over once more, looks back to Wesker. She taps at her chin with her one hand, ]

But wouldn't that only hold true for a few days? Or assuming that no one else has a pressing deadline which they cannot ignore. But it's true, it would be very early into this "exorcise" for anyone to take action unless there's "another reason" that they are acting.

[enhancements]

Oh, I have no doubt something like that will crop up soon enough - I can't stay here forever, either.

[Because of, you know, business reasons. Corporation to run and all.]

I'm not saying it won't happen - it will eventually. People aren't fond of enclosed spaces, after all.

[nachetanya]

That's sad for it to sound like a certainty, though. And scary, actually... [ Her voice trails off a little, the woman frowning. Still, she corrects near as quickly, tilting her head, ]

So if you don't think that there is anything to find investigating and no incentive to kill, Mr. Wesker, what will you do with the rest of the day?

[enhancements]

...I'd think the primary goal would be to work out who else is in the situation.

[Vague gesturing at the profiles.]

Just enough to know what I'm looking at.

[nachetanya]

[ She goes to make a motion of clapping her hands together, only to realize, oh, right, one hand. She frowns at that briefly, but then shakes her head as she lowers her arm. ]

That's what I concluded too, that I ought to get to know everyone, for now. So, Mr. Wesker, do you feel your profile tells me all I ought to know?

[enhancements]

[you know, he almost forgets she's got an arm off and then that happens.]

...Believe it if you like, but it's highly inaccurate, actually. Perhaps 70/30 percentage-wise.

[nachetanya]

Then, would you want to correct anything for me, Mr. Wesker?

[ Liiiike... ]

Are you really fifty years old?

[enhancements]

They're off by about ten years.

[...HE SAYS, NOT LOOKING A DAY OVER 25.]

[nachetanya]

I see, I thought you looked younger than that!

[ With a slight laugh, even. ]

[enhancements]

I'll take the compliment.

[wesker you absolute shithead]

How accurate is yours, anyway?

[nachetanya]

[ She nods, as if to confirm that, yes, he should. ... But there's a wink at the end so who knows. But that said, she turns on her heel to look over her profile once more and... ]

I think it's altogether rude to bring up my father [ And one or two other things, such as some names on there, are unsettling to be listed like that. ] but no, nothing seems inaccurate on mine.

[enhancements]

...You're a saint of some sort.

[He doesn't sound like he's arguing it any, just. ...Really.]

[nachetanya]

[ She nods! ]

The Saint of Blades, yes.

[enhancements]

...I'm sorry?

[the actual hell are you talking about, girl.]

[nachetanya]

The Saint of Blades...? ... Ah, are you somehow not familiar with saints at all?