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]

Is there an error on your profile?

[ also is the knife visible???

But no, she asks, tilting her head. She had been hanging out here to sort of talk to everyone as they showed up, see if she can't make an impression. Well, she probably does. one-armed bunny girl. ]

[armamenta]

[Yes it is! He's just sort of holding it, as you do.]

Plenty of 'em. They couldn't even get my age right.

[He glances her over briefly but he doesn't really have anything to say about the missing arm or anything. Sometimes shit happens and you lose an arm, it's fine....]

[nachetanya]

[ . . .??? ]

So are you intending to kill someone?

[ Knife.

And all. ]

[armamenta]

[He flips it and catches it by the handle, holding it in a reverse grip as if that's supposed to be any less threatening.]

For self-defense. I haven't seen any BOWs [B-O-Ws] here, but I'm not going to let my guard down.

[nachetanya]

[ she frowns a little at this, but she does follow the arc of the knife and how he catches it. Her arm has moved a little, as if she considered catching it herself or something, but she stopped short. Okay, so - ]

Forgive me, but what's a Bee-Oh-Double-Yuu? I don't actually know what that is!

[armamenta]

[Huh, that's interesting.]

Bio-Organic Weapon. Creatures created to become killing machines.

[nachetanya]

Created...? By who, if I could ask?

[ Her eyes are still sort of partially timed on the knife, but she's making pretty okay eye contact. ]

[armamenta]

Good question.

[That gets him to smirk a bit, but after a moment he'll relent.]

The ones we've encountered were most likely created by Javier or his scientists. We've been sent in to put a stop to him.

[nachetanya]

Oh... so that means that they can be created by more than one person, but they could be considered illegal, or at least not good for people to create?

[ And more importantly, made by people. ]

[armamenta]

Seems to be the case. I didn't believe they were real until I encountered one.

[It's still kind of Difficult to accept, but you know what, he's doing his best.]

[nachetanya]

... So are they new inventions?

[armamenta]

Not from my understanding. Javier's involvement with them is new, though. He started making a mess of things in South America long enough ago to catch the U.S. government's interest.

[nachetanya]

[ She nods, but... man, that's a lot of names she doesn't recognize ]

So BOWs are monsters that humans have made and a man named Javier has caused enough problems that the You-Ess has sent you to handle them? As a Brave of sorts?

[armamenta]

...A Brave?

[He gets the idea, but he's never heard the term used like that before.]

But yeah, that's it. Leon Kennedy was sent in with me, but I just met the man. I wouldn't say I like or dislike him.

[Much less both, thank you profiles??]

[nachetanya]

[ She nods, because "Brave" is an obvious term for her! Well, that and "Flowers," ]

Ah, then returning to the profiles...

What else is amiss, other than your age and it mentioning Leon Kennedy?

[armamenta]

My occupation's wrong. I'm a soldier first, a mercenary second. I also don't recognize a lot of things listed under likes and dislikes - I've never heard of "Las Plagas" or anyone by the name "Albert Wesker" or "Ada Wong".

[nachetanya]

Ah... well, have you talked to Mr. Wesker, then?

[ She points out that "Albert Wesker" is right there, the top profile. ]

[armamenta]

Yeah, I have. I didn't recognize him and he doesn't recognize me.

[nachetanya]

Then it does seem rather strange to say that you "like" him, doesn't it?

[ She tilts her head- ] How strange; nothing on my profile seems to be too amiss, even if some of it is more forward than I'd like.

[armamenta]

How easy would it be to get that information about you?

[It shouldn't be hard for them to get information about him, but they somehow completely fucked it up...]

[nachetanya]

[ She hums... ] I'm a fairly well known figure. [ She admits ] But I've actually only recently developed my liking for lemons, so that should be impossible.

[armamenta]

[Information that shouldn't be known, but is. Huh. Interesting.]

What's the last thing you remember before you woke up here?

[nachetanya]

I had only just met up with the other Flowers in Gwinvale, the country nearest to the Wailing Demons Territory.

[ . . . Which leaves out a lot of details, but hey, confusing, right! Might as well keep it broad. ]

[armamenta]

[That was a lot of words that meant nothing to him, okay.]

Flowers? Who are they?

[Let's... start with that...???]

[nachetanya]

[ B...link.

... Um? ]

The Braves of the Six Flowers?