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

[yourpiecenow]

[... okay, did she seriously get kidnapped in the middle of the night and sent to rehab? again?

she's about halfway into her usual routine of finding the hottest orderly and seducing them into becoming a drug mule when she realizes... hey. this ain't exactly the betty ford center. whether that's a good or bad thing, she doesn't know.

she acknowleges that there's a lot of words going on here, and that she's going to avoid reading all of them for as long as she can, but of course she notices her own picture. info seems to check out. she seems to, uh. be trying to figure out how to pronounce her title.]

... Osteoporosis? They're naming me after old lady bones?

[there's just one thing Madison hasn't noticed yet: the thin scar crossing her neck, and the lurid bruising surrounding it. the one time she doesn't check herself in the mirror, right?]

[dangerousfool]

No, no, it says 'Ostentatious'. That's not a disease, it's a personality trait.

[Thanks, Wheatley, you're helpful. Yeah, he's over there on the other side of the foyer, still getting used to his body]

You -- you don't like it?

[yourpiecenow]

I don't not like it. I guess. [if she's rude and dismissive she'll never have to admit she has never heard this word before.]

I just don't see why we need titles in the first place. And who the fuck picked them? That's super creepy, just titling people without even asking.

profiles

[barehands]

[Despite the utter surreal nature of this entire experience, somehow Madison's words distract her from the situation enough to make a smile cross her lips briefly. It's not mean spirited or harsh, just a moment of light amusement before she answers.]

Actually, miss, I think it says ostentatious. It's kind of like, um... Doing something because you're trying to be noticed.

[yourpiecenow]

Oh. I knew that. [YEAH....]

I mean, I guess it's a pretty okay title. For a movie star. [casually drops that there]

[barehands]

[She blinks once, twice, her eyes widening in surprise.]

Are you really a movie star? That's amazing!

[There's a glance towards her profile as if for confirmation, but somehow her eyes get stuck on the second item listed under likes.]

Oh, um...! S-Sorry, I shouldn't be staring, but...

[yourpiecenow]

Staring at what? [squints at the profiles. maybe there's a smudge on her face or something equally as tragic.]

[barehands]

A-Ah, it's nothing, really! Don't worry about it.

[That being said, she glances away from Madison's profile, looking back towards the girl herself. Just ignore how her cheeks are a little pinker than they had been a moment before.]

Anyways, um... What were we talking about?

[yourpiecenow]

About me! Being cool and amazing and-- [give her a moment] ostentatious.

[barehands]

Oh, oh, right! The movie star part! That's really amazing, miss. [Enough to make her forget what's going on for a few moments.] When did you start acting?

[yourpiecenow]

When I was a baby, basically. The first chance my mother got to stick me out there, there I was. [ugh, that bitch probably put her here, now that she thinks about it. even if this kid doesn't look like the usual rehab suspect.] And you're... [peers at profiles] a student. That must suck.

[nachetanya]

[ . . . Snort. Well okay, not quite a snort, more like a little pfft of a giggle, the other woman raising a hand up over her mouth. See, she doesn't actually know what the word she's misreading it is. But what's some way to, she believes, misread her title.

But oh well, ]

It does still show you name, at least.

[yourpiecenow]

"At least." Like it's not super fucking creepy to have all of our info out here like this in the first place.

[nachetanya]

No, I agree! It's actually very unsettling.

[ Even if her tone had been teasing and continues o be a little airy. ]

Much of what's on mine isn't that hard to figure out, but it's far too forward for my liking.

[yourpiecenow]

I mean, about half of mine you can get from my Wikipedia page-- and the rest from any old gossip rag. Who knows how they got this info on all the normal-looking people, though. Like, what, did they weigh us all first or something?

[nachetanya]

[ What the fuck is a wikipedia and a gossip rag?

... Okay, no. ]

That's what I'd been assuming, actually! It's ... strange? Actually, very underhanded and a little pointless.

[yourpiecenow]

It makes me feel like a bag of beets.

... Some of this stuff can be figured out at a hospital, right? They have scales and stuff. But, you can't just measure what people hate, not right down to the names.

[nachetanya]

[ A nod!! ] to know most of that with any accuracy, you would need to be watching them beforehand. Actually pretty closely! I only developed a liking for lemons recently.

[doctorize]

... I believe they're saying that you're designed to impress and attract notice, actually.

[And it's not a very flattering word to use to say so, actually, but no, this has nothing to do with old lady bones.]

[yourpiecenow]

I better be. This top alone is worth half your paycheck.

[doctorize]

Really? Then it must have been very expensive.

[yourpiecenow]

It's Gucci. So. Yeah.

[doctorize]

I suppose that explains why you'd be prime for kidnapping then, being that wealthy and all.

[yourpiecenow]

I mean, if you're gonna kidnap somebody, it might as well be a famous movie star. I don't know what that means for the rest of you assholes, though. Collateral damage?

[doctorize]

Perhaps. Or there's something in particular they're looking for in the people that they've brought here.

[Is there something all of them have in common somehow?]