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

[mementodagger]

[Yurick flinches back from the stranger, dropping the hand from his face to reveal the black patch over his right eye. Confusion rapidly turns to suspicion, the mage's pale brows pinching together. Whoever this person is, their accent is strange, certainly not like anything Yurick has ever heard before. A traveler from a distant land, perhaps? Without being able to identify the accent or a style of dress (since the stranger is also wearing one of those awful body-hugging outfits), Yurick has no idea where he could be from or what sort of cultural nuances to expect. So he reverts to his usual aloof not-quite-politeness for now.]

Not that I recall, no. I'm certain I'd feel far worse if I took a blow to the head. And I'm fine, merely... disoriented.

[backuphero]

I think we all are. Probably supposed to be, if that rules list was anything to go by...

[He shakes his head, grimacing at the thought of it.]

Anyway, uh, if you're fine, that's good... man, I sound like an idiot....

[mementodagger]

Rules list?

[Guess who's never seen a computer or whatever the wrist thingie is before? He hasn't even bothered to look at it much, he was too focused on getting the helmet off and then trying to find his comrades and/or an exit.]

[backuphero]

On the glowing screen thing in the room you woke up in?

[He was only marginally less panicked, but he did stop and read it.]

[mementodagger]

I was less concerned with my surroundings and more focused on getting that blasted bubble off my head.

[He refuses to mention that he fell off the bunk he'd been sleeping in and hit the floor like a sack of flour.]

[backuphero]

Yeah, you and me both. The typewriter wristwatch making that noise didn't help....

[It's all right. This idiot still hasn't realized Yurick is from a setting without even '40s modern tech yet!]

[mementodagger]

Typewriter? Wristwatch?

[Yurick heaves a sigh.]

Why do you people keep using words that make no sense? It's bad enough that everything here is completely unfamiliar, I don't even know most of what you're referring to. Though... I assume when you mention "wrist" it means this thing.

[He holds up his wrist with that clunky thing strapped to it.]

[backuphero]

You're not -

[But he would have recognized a vampire, this guy's way too lively to be undead, white hair or no white hair. That's not even always a tell, and... right. Breathing. Breathing is good, panicking is bad.]

Nevermind. Yeah, that thing. I hit a few of the buttons and a description of me popped up, I didn't really want to know if I could set the noise off again so I ditched it with the gloves and the helmet.

[mementodagger]

A description of you.

[Yurick pokes at the buttons until he sees his profile appear. Reading over it only deepens his frown and he mutters under his breath.]

She stole my magic and gave me that? That's....

[His body begins to tense, his hands curling into fists.]

If anyone dies, I'll be the first to be blamed!

[backuphero]

Hey, easy, let's not jump straight to who's blaming who for stuff nobody's done yet, all right? You just said something about magic - you're a witch? Well, a sorcerer, I guess, I mean you're obviously not a woman...

[WOW HE IS SO GOOD AT THIS. Totally not getting off on the wrong foot here at all. He's trying, at least.]

[mementodagger]

[Yurick whirls on Jonathan, teeth gritted, and grabs him by the shoulders to hiss practically right in his face.]

Don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone! Whatever I could do before I was kidnapped is irrelevant now! It's no one's business but mine!

[He pushes Jonathan away and backs up, his expression frigid.]

You'll all have to look elsewhere for an easy victim. I'll not be caught unaware by you lot.

[backuphero]

[Oh, he does not take being manhandled well.]

Look, I don't even know you! I'm not here to find anything but a way out, forget "victims"!

[mementodagger]

As you say, you don't know me, and I don't know you. How can you expect me to believe you?

[Suspicion has kept him alive thus far in his line of work. He's not about to let it go now.]

[backuphero]

[He runs his hands back through his hair with a frustrated groan.]

You can believe me because I don't know you! Why the hell would I want to kill somebody I've never even met before?!

[mementodagger]

Because of those damned rules. It might be the only way out of this place.

[He's unmoved by Jonathan's obvious frustration, still watching the blond warily.]

For most, it's far easier to kill a stranger than a close comrade.

[backuphero]

What, you've never heard the saying "real friends stab you in the front"?

[He sighs, disgusted mostly at himself.]

That's not what I meant and I think you know it. I have no reason to kill anyone here, not you, not anybody at all.

[mementodagger]

I'm not one to make friends so easily. You might like everyone on sight, but my trust isn't so quickly earned.

[He folds his arms across his chest, still with that stony glare.]

Escape alone might not be enough motivation for you, but everyone has their price. If our captors want bloodsport, they'll find a way to drive us to it.

[backuphero]

That doesn't mean we have to give it to them for free, does it?!

[He's not just furious, he's... worried? Sad? Hard to gauge from his expression, and hard to tell from inside his own head, if he were asked. That headache takes up a lot of space.]

[mementodagger]

[Yurick narrows his eye at the blond.]

Even now, it wouldn't be free, remember? The current price is merely freedom. For you it might not be enough, but you must know there's likely at least one person here who'd consider it a fair price.

[backuphero]

And the more of us who decide to say "screw that" to the whole thing, the better chance we have of surviving if someone does.

[mementodagger]

You're very optimistic... and incredibly naive. Neither of which is my problem, unless your foolishness puts my life at risk. But betrayal is a fact of life, a part of human nature. If you haven't learned that yet, you will before all this is done. I'd bet money on it.

[backuphero]

I refuse to believe that there's no situation where you don't have a choice except to betray somebody. If that's naive, so what. I believe people are better than that. I have to or I'll go crazy.

[mementodagger]

So you'll be crazy, foolish, or dead. Lovely choices, those.

[Yurick rolls his eye.]

I've wasted enough time. I'm going to find the belongings they took from me, and then I'll go from there. And I don't need anyone's help.

[With that, he turns on his heel and stalks away.]