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 do, yeah. Despite what that profile says, I work for the American military.

[As if the camo pants weren't enough of an indication...]

In that case, do you have any guesses at who or what could pull off a large scale kidnapping like this?

[She knows he just said he's not experienced anything exactly like this before, but she's beginning to suspect this has nothing to do with the Holy Grail War, or mages in general. Jack might have better insight.]

I mean, our numbers are made up of more than unemployed losers and high school students. There's soldiers like yourself, prominent members of society, and even a few members of royalty if even a few of those profiles are accurate.

I've considered all kinds of possibilities but so far I've got nothing. I'm not nearly important enough to be considered a target for kidnapping.

[It's not self-deprecating, that's just how it is. He could maybe see being kidnapped for revenge, but that certainly doesn't explain everyone else here. It's more likely that there's some other thread tying them together, he just hasn't found it yet.]

Yes, but wouldn't that make you a harder target to grab in the first place?

It should've been difficult to grab me in general, yeah. We were in Amparo, down in South America. [don't ask me what country, resident evil makes shit up as it pleases] My partner's not here though, so I have no idea what happened to him.

[He doesn't sound too concerned, though. Leon's either perfectly fine and carrying out the mission alone or he's very dead. Either way, it's not like it's bothering Krauser.]

What about you? Where were you before waking up here?

The city I was born in: Fuyuki, Japan. Another girl I know said she was from New York. They've really gathered us from all over, huh?

Not to mention the people from unfamiliar places entirely.

[Like Arietta's Auldrant, for example.]

[Or Nachetanya's Piena. Rin nods.]

Or the ones that aren't strictly human.

[Rummage, rummage. Oh, here we go, she's found the matches. Rin makes sure there will still be some left and takes two boxes.]

I'm still getting used to the idea that they're here.

[He hasn't talked to the robot or the goat yet, but Greed sure is a thing.]

Is it that jarring? I find it stranger that we can all communicate perfectly.

[. . .]

I just assumed everyone was speaking English.

[Which is probably the stupidest thing now that he's actually thinking about it.]

[Rin shakes her head. She actually does know English, but that's not what she's been using the entire time. After Rose it become an object of curiosity.]

I'm speaking Japanese.

I don't know any Japanese at all.

[He knows a little Spanish? That's absolutely not helpful right now.]

So how the hell are we understanding one another?

Maybe it's a spell.

...Normally I'd say "magic doesn't exist" but at this point I can't say that with any certainty.

[He kind of hates everything his life has become right now.]

[That's her specialty, so it's what she defaults to. Actually she hopes it is a spell. At least that would be familiar.]

Do you think it works with writing too? If there's a pen and paper in here, we could test it.

[That's a damn good idea. Give him a moment, he's sure he saw some paper in one of these boxes...

It takes him a moment, but he'll find a pen and paper and offer them to her.]

Go ahead. I'm curious to see if it'll work.

[Oh good, that saves her the trouble of having to look. Rin accepts the paper and pen, and grabs a tool kit so she has a solid surface to write on.

When she's finished and hands it back to him, the paper reads in Japanese:

The snow falls densely, the hail falls densely!
It's falling and falling, collecting more and more.
The mountains and the fields are also wearing their cotton hats,
and in every tree flowers bloom.

The snow falls densely, the hail falls densely!
It's still falling and falling, never stopping.
The dog is happy, running around the garden,
the cat is curled up under the kotatsu.]

Well?

[He'll read it back aloud to her so she knows exactly what he's seeing here. To him, it looks like English and it says exactly the same thing.]

Unless you wrote something else and it's translating weirdly for me, it seems writing translates as well.

[She shakes her head, looking pleased. First of all because it worked, but secondly she can't believe she got a big muscle head like Jack to recite a Japanese children's song.]

No, that was it word for word! I don't know how useful this will in the long run, but that's good to know.

[YOU DID IT, RIN]

Whatever's causing it probably works on all of our languages, too. Interesting.

[Hmm you know. On second thought she thinks she'll keep this tool kit. She muses quietly as she puts it with the blanket.]

...They've gone to a lot of effort. This is way too much.

Definitely seems like a lot of work went into keeping us here, too. There's got to be more to it than what those rules say.

[Rin agrees.]

Something beyond that; a real goal that don't want us to know.

[Hmm.] But they wouldn't instate rules that would get in the way of that. Whatever they want us for, our lives definitely aren't precious.

Welcome.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject