The Fifteen Strangers Mods (
strangerpeople) wrote in
15strangers2018-07-14 01:17 pm
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Entry tags:
Fighting For Your Life!
[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.
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.]
((OOC: Welcome!
If you haven't filled out the resident profile or current residents information yet, please do so!))
no subject
[ There's a kitchen right? ]
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[Yeah there's a kitchen. Probably no fruit, though.]
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[ He'll pop into that kitchen and see what he can find. He returns with... bread. ]
... We don't exactly have fresh fruit. We'll just have to see if it can slice bread, I suppose.
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[She takes the laser and inspects it, sort of testing how she would shoot it.]
Do you want to try it or should I?
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[ Side-eye. You do it. ]
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[She'll take aim, but she's not pulling the trigger until he moves away from the bread.]
no subject
You lazer that bread, friend.
This cannot possibly be a terrible idea. ]
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She pulls the trigger-
ZAP
And suddenly the bread is on fire.
And no sooner after that she drops the laser and backs into a wall, doing mental gymnastics to try and make sense of what just happened. She manages to get out one question.]
How...how did that just happen?
no subject
You killed the bread. RIP bread. Now we can't have grilled cheese.
A moment of silence for the lost.]
no subject
C just stares at the smoldering bread and then realizes they should probably put the fire out, and goes to get a cup of water, returns with it, and pours it on the bread. The bread is now sad and soggy. ]
... Well, I suppose they work.
no subject
H-how, though?! That shouldn't be possible! We're no where near something like this with technology!
no subject
[ He just shrugs. ]
no subject
I'm sorry, what cubes? Scented...toilet paper?
[Oh boy we get to talk about this]
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[ ... It is beginning to occur to him you might not be from the House. ]
They're essentially living computers that can teleport people, keep track of data, all that stuff. And why is scented toilet paper weird? The apple pie one is really popular. I mean, not as popular as the blueberry-flavored soap, but it's popular.
no subject
That-none of that exists. I'm not sure if it could exist. I mean...it's 1960, isn't it? Stuff like that is supposed to happen in...2010 or something.
no subject
[ So, y'know. ]
At least, that feels right, from what I can remember of my time before it. I don't know, to tell you the truth, my memories seem to still be scrambled.
no subject
[She...needs a second to process this...]
So...either you're crazy...or I'm a time traveler. And that gun is putting it in your favor right now.
no subject
[ He waves a hand. ]
I wouldn't worry about it too much, Miss. ... Although we probably shouldn't burn anymore bread.
no subject
[You are not helping your case, buddy.]
no subject
[ I mean, duh, that's obvious. ]
no subject
Okay, I don't know how true that is, but...just in case, they don't want to kill us, right? The...puppet masters, or whatever they're called?
no subject
[ Why does he sound so self-assured when he says this? ]
Surely you grew bored of your childhood toys and discarded them, right? It's the same principle. Fortunately, I know all about it, so perhaps we'll be lucky and I can help us keep some attention.
no subject
I would appreciate if you did that. Thanks.
So...any reason why they'd put us here? Other than just...some sort of amusement?
no subject
[ It's his best guess. ]
no subject
[She doesn't want to know entirely but she wants some answers.]
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