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

I'd hardly call mass kidnapping a prank, Dickens. That is your name, right? I hear the profiles aren't all accurate.

I'm starting to realize that myself, yes.

[Guess you actually didn't do something questionable this time, Cathy.]

But my name is listed correctly, at least... what about yours?

My profile is correct. Kashima Sakura, CEO of the Martel Group. Though I suspect that doesn't mean much to you right now.

I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize that name, Miss Sakura.

It seems most in here don't, and I'm hearing places and entities unfamiliar to myself, too. Well, I've my own theories about that.

Oh? Got any theories that you would like to share?

Well, one of the younger girls in here brought up cities and whole continents nowhere like Earth. What do you think of that?

In my line of work, I would think that they have quite a vivid imagination, but...

[... But it sounds like you don't think so.]

It sounds to me that what's going on is something the average person wouldn't think possible.

To be fair, the average person doesn't usually think they're going to be kidnapped or waking up in strange places.

[JUST SAYING...]

That's true, outside of urban legends, but outside of theoretical physics, alternate dimensions are generally treated as more fantastic than men with hook hands lurking outside car doors.

Alternate dimensions? [UM] That's... definitely quite the fantastical leap in logic to make. Or is this something that you would consider yourself familiar with?

[Do you study things like this or are you just a sci-fi fan...]

I'm a woman of science, Dr. Dickens. The Martel Group wouldn't be nearly as successful if I didn't study the workings of the world, even things that no one takes seriously unless they're in the field.

Ah, I see... in that case, I can only wonder what kind of technology this place has and how they were able to achieve something of this magnitude, if it has the ability to bring people in from an alternate dimension outside of this one?

Whatever it is, it's something no ordinary person could pull off. I'd be wary, wouldn't you?

Of course I would be. Doesn't stop me from being curious though, especially if it can be used to allow our escape from here.

Just make sure that curiosity doesn't lead to jumping off the metaphorical cliff.

You don't have to worry about that: I happen to like living, you see.

[He's not willing to do anything that would risk his life, even in the name of curiosity.]

As long as we're all on the same page, then there shouldn't be a problem. Besides the obvious, of course.

The obvious?

[... He either doesn't know or he just wants to hear Sakura say it, it's hard to tell.]

Kidnapping, stranding here, enticement to murder. Or were you thinking something else?

Oh, I was thinking more precisely about the possibility of starving to death, or having our organs secretly being prepared for sale on the black market.

[... You know, the obvious things you think about when kidnapped.]

Now I believe it's you who's been reading too many chain letters. Or emails, I suppose, that's what they're doing these days.

Welcome.

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