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

[commandurr]

I DUNNO! WHERE'D YOU LEAVE HIM??

AHAHAHAHAHA!!

[backuphero]

HER, you damn hag! She's a LADY and a WITCH and you made a big damn mistake losing track of her and grabbing me for whatever this is!

[commandurr]

OH, I THINK IF ANYONE MADE A MISTAKE, IT'S YOU!

[backuphero]

YEAH, WELL, THAT'S A MISTAKE ON YOUR PART TOO!

[He instinctively grabs for throwing daggers that he no longer has, and in the process of grabbing for missing knives and shuffling his chosen weapon between hands he ends up holding only the sheath of the combat knife he grabbed earlier. It's not much, but he throws that at the screen with an inarticulate yell.]

[commandurr]

[And she just laughs some more as the knife just...bounces off the screen and onto the floor. The dent the knife did make almost instantly seals itself up, and in seconds its as if Jonathan had never thrown anything at all.]

WOW, YOU...YOU CALL THAT A THROW! AWW, WHAT'S WRONG, DID I MAKE YOU MAD??

AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

[backuphero]

SCREW YOU, YOU GOD-DAMNED HARPY, YOU CAN GO TO HELL!

[He stands there, tensed, red-faced, a vein visibly twitching at his temple, but only for a moment. He retrieves what he threw, and stalks back to the spot he'd been standing in at the edge of the room, still glaring. Everyone else is asking questions still, maybe he should wait for a break and do the same.

He's not just squeezed his eyes shut because he's on the verge of breaking and actually crying in front of other people for the first time in six years, no sir. That's not what's going on here at all. In fact, if you think that's what's happening, screw you too! He's eighteen, he's a grown man, he's not one to start crying when his partner is nowhere he can find and everything he's carried with him has disappeared too!]

[commandurr]

AWW YOU GONNA CRY? CRYBABY! AHAHAHAHA!

[backuphero]

GO TO HELL!

[No, he's not denying it. If his voice hadn't cracked twice in those three words' span, that yell might have been vaguely intimidating... if the Commander weren't who she is.]

[commandurr]

[Pointing and l a u g h i n g]

[backuphero]

[OH LOOK IT'S A DOUBLE-HANDED CACTUS IMPRESSION

by which the narration means he's making a very rude gesture with both hands, uncharacteristically pissed off as he is.

yes this means he dropped the knife on his foot. it's sheathed, he's fine.]

[commandurr]

AHAHAHA--

[Rolling off the couch now, laughing still]

[backuphero]

If you think you're going to get away with this, you're dreaming.

[It's probably just going to make her louder, getting quiet, but getting that angry definitely made his headache worse. No point in continuing to scream when it's only going to amuse the crazy lady.

He's just going to walk over to a nice uncrowded spot on one of the theater's couches, sit down, and glower.]