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

[losergod]

[ Well, he thinks, at least he isn't alone in his dislike of the subject. ]

I really hope whoever took us realizes what a violation of privacy this entire ordeal is. ... I'm sorry you had to go through it, as well.

[ Don't think he didn't notice some of those reflexive movements earlier. Either you're like him, or you simply have your own problems. Either way, he feels nothing but sympathy. ]

[proveavillain]

[ Given more time to get used to his predicament, he might have been able to react with more subtlety. And it's not that he's never allowed others to see him as a woman, but only then it was to gain an advantage or as a disguise... to ask him to pretend he sees himself in that way, with no recourse to hide his physique... ]

I don't suppose it would change their attitude much if they did realize it, supposing they were not already aware to begin with...

[ He does relax his shoulders a little, though. ]

Seems we all had to put up with this ordeal. I am sorry you are finding it difficult...

[losergod]

... It doesn't help that this vessel wasn't exactly one I wanted to be trapped in to begin with.

[ He stares at his hands for a long moment. He'd scrubbed them rather hard; they're red. ]

I simply want to go back. To where I belong. ... Well, I'm sure you all do, but I need to return to where I should be especially. I can't do anything from here.