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

[carnivorously]

So you're not familiar with the System either.

[It's looking like he's the only one familiar with Sibyl.]

I'm a latent criminal, by the way, which is why I ask.

[doctorize]

Really? [huh] And I'm assuming that it was this "system" that labeled you as one?

[carnivorously]

I wanted a guy who murdered my subordinate to meet the same painful end as my subordinate. Instead of getting therapy, I focused on the case and all I could think about was how I wanted this bastard to die.

[Yep, that's it.]

So that's what caused it to label me as one.

[doctorize]

... I see.

[damn son]

I'm sorry for your loss.

[carnivorously]

No need to apologize. It was my own fault that he died. I should have been a better supervisor.

[doctorize]

[...]

This isn't the time for it, but if you'd like to talk to someone about it, you're welcome to come find me later after our search. This a peculiar situation, but I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't at least offer a listening ear.

[carnivorously]

I can't say I'm not thankful for the offer, but I'm not sure what good it would do either of us. I'm to the point of no recovery so it would likely just be a waste of your time.

[Just how things work in his world. Those who can get their crime coefficients below 100 and have clear hues are favored. Not people like Kogami who's crime coefficient is in the high 100s to low 200s often and he doesn't exactly have a clear hue so...

He understands. That's the discrimination of his world.]

[doctorize]

There's no such thing as being "to the point of no recovery": it's simply a matter of the person being willing to try.

[... But, he'll also drop the matter now as he indicates the storage room.]

This looks like a good place to check. Shall we?

[carnivorously]

[He's not even going to comment to that because Kogami knows better than anyone that he can't 'recover'. The system said so. But that's not something he really wants to argue right now.

In any case, looking in the storage room is a good idea.]

I don't know who would put cigarettes in storage, but it's a good place to check anyway.