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

[vividsins]

...You speak as if you're a demon. "Vessels" is something you'd expect from something like that.

[ It's told with a half-joking tone. ]

[losergod]

... Oh, I'm no demon. I'm God.

[ He smiles when he says this. ]

Demons are far more malicious, anyway. If I wasn't stuck in this body, I could be in whatever body I'd like, really. It wouldn't be hard to possess a new vessel. I... I think I've done it plenty of times. At least, that's the feeling I get.

[vividsins]

I don't believe in gods. If they existed, then bad things wouldn't happen to people who only ever deserved good things.

[ ...He can't place why he thinks that, but there's bitterness in his voice. ]

[losergod]

... Some places are Godless.

[ Why does he look so sad when he says that? ]

Some places are filled to the brim with parasites that devour people that are clean and good.

[vividsins]

Mm. Maybe. Maybe I'm just more cynical than others and think humanity is awful.

[ But he's still got the most pleasant smile on his face. He's good at that. ]

They lie, cheat, rob, kill, take everything they can from one another and leave those who are good and pure in the dust as nothing but empty husks devoid of the life they once had.

[losergod]

... I'm not disagreeing. Humans allow the parasite inside of themselves and become horrible monsters.

[ He sighs. ]

They torture their own kind for no reason other than because they can on the daily; one only has to look at schools to see that. I've experienced it firsthand. But I also want to hope that there's some good ones out there. I've met at least one.

[vividsins]

...I'd go so far as to say the humans themselves are the parasites. At least demons you can expect to be awful.

[ He's only met a few good people, he feels. So many would trade so much for a few nights of good sleep. ]

[losergod]

... You're right.

[ He says it bluntly. ]

This isn't incorrect. The problem lies at the core. Humans are dirty. They need to become pure white. But I can't change them. I'm an Observer. All I can do is watch, normally.

It's torture. Watching the good ones get eaten alive. I think I'd much rather deal with demons any day. Demons have guidelines. Demons are clean.

[vividsins]

[ And then, Baku looks up. His eyes are empty and black, like voids peering out from his face. And it makes the smile almost unsettling. ]

...Demons do indeed have rules, and contracts that bind them. I'd say that's much, much easier to deal with than things that live without rules.

[losergod]

... Demons can also work behind the scenes in ways that humans can't.

[ Those eyes... he smiles. Something about them isn't human. Reminds him a bit of Aiden. He isn't sure how he remembers Charlotte's caretaker, but he definitely remembers him. ]

There's nothing wrong with a beneficial agreement. As long as someone pure isn't hurt along the way.

[vividsins]

I agree.

[ And a hand held out. ]

I'm a baku, so I guess you can call me Baku. Since I can't remember my name.

[losergod]

[ ... He's wearing a glove, so it's fine. He smiles and will offer a handshake. And he's not giving his real name out, so-- ]

There is no real name that can define me, but you can call me C. ... I expected a baku to look more... tapir-like. But then again, I've met Krampus, and he looked like a rather attractive man, so I can't really make judgements.

[vividsins]

I have a tapir cane, if that helps, though I don't have it on me. They seem to have deprived me of even that.

[ DEEP BREATH. But there will be a handshake. ]

[losergod]

[ Look at them, doing a whole greeting like Adults. ]

Unfortunately something else we've in common. They robbed us of all our possessions. I had a pair of gloves much nicer than this, but they took mine. My hair ribbon, too, so now it's simply a mess...

[vividsins]

I had quite a sharp suit. I do hope I can get it back somehow.

[ SIGH. Back to cleaning. ]

For now, we'll have to put up with it.

[losergod]

... It wouldn't do for someone like you to dress poorly, would it? You don't strike me as the sort who happens to be unkempt.

[ Just a guess. ]

[vividsins]

I like everything in its place, yes.

[ Take that as you will. ]

[losergod]

I don't see anything wrong with that, but some might perhaps call that "controlling".

[ He just has OCD, so of course he's particular about having everything nice and neat, himself. ]