trustfelled | Welcome.

You don't remember how you got here.

It may be one of the first things to occur to you when you wake up, that you don't know when you got here, what you were doing involved nothing like this; granted, it's also possible that it doesn't matter – that whatever circumstances you last remember have nothing on the fact that this bed is really comfortable and the room around you is gently-lit.

It's warm, but it's nowhere near where you're supposed to be.

Whatever you think of it, the fact is that you can't stay there forever; there's a silver key resting on that trunk near your bed, and you might want to take it on the way out. It's no big deal if you don't, exactly – it won't lock automatically after you close the door, that has to be done manually – but it'll probably become clear that privacy is a commodity in a place like this.

After all, you aren't alone; the hallway is likely quick to become populated with other people that are just as confused as you are. Go ahead and talk to them if you'd like; none of you will know exactly how you got to the building with the wooden walls and the odd windows that no one can see through, but that doesn't mean you can't get to know each other on the way to...wherever it is that you're going.

Wander long enough and you may hear the chiming of a clock nearby.

It's hard to tell whether it's telling you it's very early or very late at night, but checking out the room it's in eventually might be a good idea regardless; it's large and open, designed to accommodate social gatherings from the look of it, with the clock in question mounted against the western wall. It isn't the only thing here, though – there's a large frame set into the wall nearby, and it contains some information that might be relevant to your interests...

Or perhaps your attention is drawn instead to the other framed information nearby; don't worry if you miss it in here, though. It's posted in every other room in the building.

There's also the matter of the large double-doors at the end of the room; they aren't going to open, regardless of what you do.

Looks like you're trapped here for the time being. Might as well see who's here with you, right?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If they were switched around, wouldn't yours say sixteen?

[ She's annoyed by the whole thing. Try not to be too offended, Jean. ]

[If Jean's offended, it's not showing. Instead, she simply shakes her head.]

Oh, you're... never mind, then. I suppose they're just wrong, after all.

[She turns back to stare at the posted information again.] I don't get it. Why go through so much trouble to set this fancy display up, and then make such obvious mistakes?

Because whoever did this doesn't have more than half a brain.

[She sighs.]

I'd prefer to hope it's not that. If we've all been taken prisoner by an idiot, what does that say about us?

[ ... ]

He has really good drugs to knock us out with?

[ Morphling is pretty potent, after all. ]

... ... ...

Come to think of it, the villagers did insist on giving us drinks for the road...

[She'd been disappointed when it was missing. She doesn't drink often, but this situation was more than enough excuse.]

There you go. They probably put something in your drink.

That's horrible. I thought for sure they liked having us visit...

[She sighs.] But you're probably right, too. It makes the most sense.

What about you? Can you think of any way you might have been drugged?

[ She... shakes her head. ]

... No. Not really. They would've had to do it in front of a huge crowd.

[ Ughhh. And there's no way she's that important, either. ]

A crowd? What, are you a performer too?

Not exactly.

It was just a drawing no one wanted to win.

A drawing? I'm not sure I follow.

People's names are put into a big bowl to be drawn. Whoever gets picked goes into an arena to fight to the death.

What?!

But that's horrible! How could they do something like that?!

To teach the districts a lesson. To make sure they don't step out of line again.

Well, if they're treating people like that, people should be stepping out of line.

[Between that and the woman's scars... Jean huffs quietly.] I'm so sorry. No one should have to deal with such cruelty.

We shouldn't.

But we have to.

[There's a voice in Jean's heart that says no, that's unacceptable, you should fight back, but it's quickly suppressed.]

Why's that? Who is it that's making you do these things, anyway?

The guy who runs my country.

[ Bitter, bitter. ]

If we don't play along, more people die.

So he's making you choose between atrocities.

[She covers her mouth.]

[ She doesn't dispute that. ]

Yeah. That sounds right.

... ... ...

Would running away have been an option? That's how we kept out from under the thumb of the law. We travel around in a caravan, and if we ever see guards, we ride away to somewhere else.

Too many kids.

[ ... she should clarify. ]

My little sister. My friend, Gale, and his three younger siblings. Too many people to make a stealthy escape.

We can't leave them. They'll die if we do.

Oh.

[The word is heavy. Yeah, that's not a point she's about to argue.]

[Will they be all right without you there? It's a question she wants to ask, but thinks it might be better to leave it alone.]

... you know, compared to that, the rules around here almost seem manageable. They don't say outright that anyone has to kill anybody. In fact, it doesn't even seem recommended.

[ Maybe if Gale were here, too, she'd be worried sick. Sicker than sick, actually. But as far as she knows, Gale is back home. Probably worrying about her, too, because where did she go. ]

Yeah. We don't have to kill. Just if we want to leave.

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