Fighting For Your Life!

[strangerpeople]

WELL SH*IKSSHSH*

[The first thing you feel when you finally come to is a headache.

The bad thing is that it's not even a painful headache - it's one of those annoying headaches that's just below the threshold of pain, and it's centered right in the middle of your forehead. Just...ugh. Where's the aspirin?

For that matter, actually, where are you? This is not your beautiful house! In fact, as get out of your bed, you realize this place isn't even remotely a home. And whatever you're wearing isn't even remotely what you recall wearing. (I mean, yeah, it's not uncomfortable, and whoever dressed you was kind enough to make sure you had underwear on, I suppose. That's one less thing to worry about, right?)

Also, you have a weird wrist...watch...comm...thing on you, which is nice. Or at least it would be, if it and every other computer in the place didn't suddenly start making the second most ungodly noise you will no doubt come to hear in this place. The noise is followed by a a message on every desktop in the area, which won't be disappearing any time soon. Thankfully, your nifty wristwatch comm is spared this unavoidable screen, and tapping a button let's it disappear to reveal a simple profile interface, alongside a a text, calling, and photo function. Something tells you those latter two won't be particularly useful to you in the long run.

In any case, apparently you now have a Title, as well as a power, even if you've never had one before. Why? Where the hell are you? Who else is with you? Can you get out?

And...is someone laughing? The sound seems to bounce off and echo faintly throughout the floors. It's high-pitched, and - as you get closer to the theater - it gets just a little louder and just a little more grating. It sounds like a rabid hyena that huffed helium. Hopefully, it's just a movie or something that can be turned off. Someone ought to go in and do that.

In the meantime, welcome, Titled - and good luck.

There are fifteen strangers in this place.]


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Comments

[earietale]

[Okay, coffee. Coffee might be a good thing. At the very least it'll probably give her some more energy to deal with everything going on. So she'll take one.]

Thanks.

[She'll take a sip before she asks this nice, surprisingly calm woman a question.]

So, do you know what's going on?

alcohol mention

[fashionfever]

[Sarcastic smile:] Nope.

[Tiny huff coming outta the gaps of her lips.] I thought it was a costume party with nice cocktails that got out of hand; but you're a little young for that, aren't you, sweetie?

[That said she remembers how she felt at sixteen. Barbara can get an entire black coffee unlike some other more delicate sixteen year olds. The cream and sugar are readily available after all if that happens to not be her order.]

[earietale]

Yeah, don't worry. I don't plan on getting drunk anytime soon.

[The last thing she needs is some trashy tabloids with covers saying 'Former Child Star Gets In A Drunken Wreck' or something like that.

Do you think I could get a bit more sugar? It's kind of bitter.

[fashionfever]

[Oh, tabloids are never fun...] Of course. [Angela takes it and mixes in the sugar liberally.]

Got a name you'd want me to write on this cup, sweetie?

[earietale]

Barbara. Barbara Finch. And thanks again. This might help calm my nerves a bit.

And you? What's you're name?

[fashionfever]

[Putting hand over heart.] Angela Napoli, that's me.

I'm so glad if it's helping you even a little, Barbara! Coffee's not my specialty, but I wanted to do at least something, you know?

[earietale]

Yeah, and I'm sure everyone appriciates it.

[Wow this lady is super nice? No reason not to be still it's something to behold right now.

Too bad she feels the need to turn this into a serious conversation due to her being a responsible adult.]

So, what do you think is going on? With us being kidnapped and everything?

[fashionfever]

[Angela has two entire skills. Fashion and customer service. Honestly, the second one is highballing it considering she doesn't even have the stay calm in a crisis skill... but she has gotta at least try to have the same amount of it as this polite little teenager.

She raises both her hands, slowly, hoping she'll come up with something to say, and then just gradually fans out into a shrug.]

Reality TV show with sadistic hosts and really mean fine print?

[It doesn't sound like a joke so much as the very best Angela could come up with. She's not working with a lot of experience.]

[earietale]

[She can't help but be surprised by the suggestion. And for two reasons.]

Are reality shows really getting that brutal? And...do you really think they'd want me?

[fashionfever]

I mean, if you ask me it's probably a gimmick. Pour red corn syrup all over people, not something that'd get people sued. A lot of reality TV shows focus on elimination, you know? Just make that more dramatic and horrorshow.

[She points at Barbara with her index fingers.] As for you... In my experience they try to cast at least one nice heroic girl-next-door type, eh?

[earietale]

So...fake horror, but real kidnapping? I don't know about it, but if it means we get out of here alright I'm fine with it.

But, what I mean is...I haven't really been behind a camera for a while. I've tried, but it sorta seems like Hollywood doesn't want me anymore. Do you really think they'd want me back?

[fashionfever]

[oh my god she can think of at least six reasons a teenager would already be blacklisted in hollywood and noNE OF THEM ARE GOOD]

Of course you shouldn't let the studio bigwigs get you into some chained-up contract. But I mean, there's people from lots of countries here, right? Maybe it's a studio casting their net really far.

[earietale]

[don't worry she's fine there just some bad luck]

I guess. I'm more worried that they might've brought in some crazy people. That guy that woke up in the same room as me kind of made it sound like he was from medieval times or something.

[fashionfever]

[Angela looks immensely relieved that somebody else actually considers all this anachronism and science-fiction actively crazy]

Yeah, like, I don't get why they have so much historical reenactment junk going on! Is the international angle already too played out?

[earietale]

I don't think so. It sounds interesting to me, at least.

[Of course this is 1960 television, so...]

But, wait-do you think some of them might be actors or something? And that's why they're saying stuff like that?

[fashionfever]

[Shrug...] Yeah, it's on the table. I mean, what is more crazy? Bunch of actors, which both of us know about? Or sixteen year old god kid?

[IF IT TURNS OUT THERE IS TIME TRAVEL THEN ANGELA KIND OF IS THE CRAZY ONE BUT WE ARE CROSSING THAT BRIDGE WHEN WE COME TO IT]

[earietale]

[it's fine i'm sure the space time continuum isn't broken beyond repair it'll be okay]

That's a good point. I can't help but wonder why they'd kidnap us, though. Why not just ask us to come on the show like most of reality shows do? Makes it a lot less possible for us to sue them or anything.

[fashionfever]

[oh no this is a huge gap]

Maybe... they got us in a contract another way? I don't know, their craft department sure is terrible, it sure isn't a normal big studio at least...

[earietale]

Maybe. I don't know. It all just feels suspicious. But if it means we're not in any actual danger, then I guess I'll be alright with it.