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.]


((OOC: Welcome!

If you haven't filled out the resident profile or current residents information yet, please do so!))

Comments

[mementodagger]

And for the kind to never learn to prevent others from taking advantage of them. Kindness, naivete, compassion... the world at large always seeks to prey on those things.

[Why are these two such pessimists? They're feeding each other's cynicism.]

[losergod]

[ C is a nihilistic soul, that's why. NEVER-ENDING CHAIN OF PESSIMISM. ]

... It's true. It's often the kindest souls that get hurt the worst.

[ He smiles, but it's sad. He might be thinking of someone in particular. ]

Those kinds of things are never going to change, but... that doesn't mean there aren't going to be others who don't think that way. All you can really hope to do is help them.

[mementodagger]

Help them....

[The blurred face, the distorted voice, the missing name... Yurick knows someone gained more than his trust, even became his dearest friend. That person helped him time and again when he needed someone.

He remembers that he felt something brighter through the clouds of his melancholy in that person's presence.]

Is it worth it? Helping someone when you might never be repaid? Caring when it could be thrown back in your face when you least expect it?

[losergod]

... If you'd asked me that before I met someone very important to me, I might have said no. But I have seen firsthand that at least trying makes a difference, as long as the person is good inside.

[ ... Besides. Charlotte would be sad to hear him completely given up on people. What kind of God would he be? ]

It's just that sometimes, those people aren't easy to find in the crowd of bad people.