MOCK WEEK

[strangerpeople]

MOCK WEEK

[Awaken.

Fifteen strangers have been gathered to the Depths. When they awaken, they will feel nauseous in their stomachs. No doubt confused. Perhaps, even terrified. And certainly, there is a good reason for it - they are not where they were before. If they had powers back where they came from, they seem to be all gone. And it appears that someone has left...guidelines for them. Who? Its uncertain. So far, there seems to be no one else save for them in this hot and stuffy place. No...'intercessor' to be seen yet, certainly.

There are a few small graces for this group, at least. Their memories are intact. And, perhaps, they will discover the power that their Title brings to them. But these are only small graces.

So welcome.

There are fifteen strangers in this place.]


((OoC: Welcome to Mock Week! If you have any questions at all, feel free to PM here, or on plurk! And, feel free to join our handy dandy Discord chat!

EDIT: For clarification characters only know their own titles unless they are told otherwise by the character with the title, or by the Intercessor!))

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SUNDAY

[strangerpeople]

[crywiththesaints]

[This... she can't say anything was expected, but this definitely wasn't. A shelter? It's not one she knows, and she wouldn't have approved one.

An old woman walks through the hall, seeming to be observing everything around. Pipes, keys... you.]

I presume that this is what they mean by "titled individuals."

[coldsouls]

[ The nausea, she can deal with. It's uncomfortable, if annoying. No, there's something else bothering Levia right now. Mainly, the fact that she knows she... should not be here. For numerous reasons.

A word flashes through her mind.

"Experiment".

She is no stranger to this word. Having a grasp on her identity now, she really isn't. She is a scientist; of course she isn't. A scientist, a mage. ... A mage... why is she here? She was in the world of the Court--and also, she is alone.

She leaves the room.

Nausea cure. Bound to be one around here. Simple pills, right? But judging by the state of her room, she's guessing not. Medieval, probably. So herbs would likely be what she'll be looking for. Given she's alone in this body, and given how it feels, she also guesses her power, what might be left of it, anyway, is likely sealed. It feels cut off.

If this is an experiments, others must be present, too. Experiments always require more then one testing subject.

She can be found in the kitchens, looking through the herbs, and getting out the things to attempt to make some tea. She knows how to cure nausea. The question is just if what she needs is here. While she does that, she reads what's in her labcoat's pocket. Rules. Experiments have rules, too. Of course they do. ]

[waluigi]

[From the second he wakes up, Waluigi does what he does best. He lets out a loud cry:]

WALUIGI IS HERE NOW! NOW THIS PLACE IS GOOD.

[This is going to be a very long week.

So, the first thing Waluigi does is head down to the kitchen. The man is hungry. He then realizes he doesn't have a spick, so he's just gonna...stroll right over to the armory and grab a sword. Without even questioning it, he literally just takes one of the dead animals on the wall - a squirrel or something - and impales it on the sword. He starts to roast it over the fire pit, not even bothering to skin it or anything.

Waluigi is hungry.]

[reverseit]

In the dining hall, Akane is setting out cups of ale. She can only carry a few at a time and therefore she must keep dashing between the hall and the kitchen with the cups. In the end she has set out enough for as many barracks doors: she has set out sixteen, as there is the locked door and she has no reason to suppose that there is not a sixteenth person, having not met anyone yet.

She would set out food, but she is a poor cook, so her offering is this. She wishes to gather as many people around as she can and get stock of the situation. Perhaps the plan will work, perhaps it will not... but in the end, that sure is quite a lot of beer.

[warmdolls]

[ The bed isn't comfortable at all, and he feels nauseous. Granted, Behemo isn't surprised. Still, it is quite nice to be able to stretch and not feel positively crammed into a body. He'll yawn and sit up and-- Wait. Where is this? This isn't the Court. None of it is here, there shouldn't be a stone bed. He'll sit up, and look around and... Well.

At least he has his maid outfit, still. He'll frown, and scramble out of the room after finding the key, and then look for someone. Oh, he's hoping he'll eventually find her. His dear sister.

After that, he can be found examining the clothier and looking at dresses. He passes easily for a woman in his maid dress, but maybe he wants something new. "Shopping" always helped cure his blues, after all. And he seems to be taking this nonchalantly, really, humming as he sorts through gowns and dresses, sometimes holding them up to see if he likes them.

Later on, he can be found in the kitchen, inspecting the food and making faces. Why, oh, why is none of it convenient? Finally, though, he will go to the armory. He looks over the various weapons, and he seems to be seriously considering anything smaller. Why wouldn't he? Those rules, after all... ]

[jinglebros]

Aoi, or Santa as he will go by in this place, is standing by the locked barracks door, examining it but not trying to open it. He knows the peril of trying to open locked doors without their keys, alternatively known as trying to damage property, he's not gonna fuck himself over like that. He just wants to see if there's any hidden latches or some shit. Running his fingers over the door, eyeing it closely, getting on the floor and trying to peer underneath it... he probably looks like a madman. It's a good thing he's never cared how he comes off to others.

[alwayslost]

[Waking up on a rock is surprisingly not a weird thing for the Knight of Hearts. In fact, he sits up and stretches like it's any other morning, before his eyes open and he blinks. He makes a point to poke his head out of the room and down the hallway...]

...ahahaha. It's no good. Did I take a wrong turn again?

[So he spends a long time wandering the hallways. You'd think it would be easy enough to navigate. So how is it that you might see him two, three... seven times... not really getting anywhere significant. He... seems okay with it though. Like it's some kind of adventure. It might be worth noting-- for him, at least, that he's at the very least aware that he's lost. Not that that's saying much. But he does have a letter to investigate at some point on his "journey". An interesting one at that. "Titled"? A strange blank look crosses his expression. Then he looks at the title and laughs.]

The Outcast, huh?

[Awfully close to home. Not so different from 'Outsider' either. He wondered... what was he to the people here. Perhaps that was true.]

One who has both a Title and a Role... The Rules never said anything about that.

[Later you might find him in the armory. Man looks really comfortable with all kinds of swords. He won't touch anything else, really. But his swordsmanship is superb, so there's no reason to.

...he might not notice you (or so you might think) so the blade may or may not come very close to you.]

[lingchi]

[ It's been quite some time indeed since Anzu had encountered a place as primitive as this, at least not that was still active as anything but a tourist attraction. It definitely stirs something in her, akin to what a human might call "nostalgia." It's not the place itself that evokes the feeling, of course, so much as the atmosphere. The question, however, is one of what she's doing here. It's hard to say what she was doing before, the way the years blend together now, but it definitely was nothing to do with whatever this is.

Her first stop is to the clothier, of course; the clothes she awoke in are covered in dry blood, after all, and none of it is obviously hers. She doesn't bother to hide behind anything to change, but as with everything she does, she does so in such a swift, efficient manner that no one is likely to see anything regardless. There is, however, more than enough time to run into her carrying the bloody clothes back to her room.

After that, she can be found looking around the armory. She's proficient in most of what's here, but the knives, in particular, are what draw her attention. Namely, she can be seen comparing any two knives, holding one in each hand, flipping and spinning them, feeling out which one is lighter, and occasionally swapping one out for a new one to start the process over. ]

[daughterofthemark]

[Wow. Arianna's bed felt hard as a rock this morning. In fact, it was a rock. How did she even sleep like that? Also she's dressed but her armor is missing, and there's this note that must be someone's idea of a cruel prank but it's also the only hint as to why she's here, and tl;dr she's having kind of a crappy morning. Not that you'd know it from her cheerful smile as she explores her new surroundings.

After briefly checking all the available rooms (and trying all the locked doors), she makes her way back to the kitchen, where she sets about skinning and cleaning a rabbit. She seems to have a pretty good grasp of what she's doing, too! ...until she gets to the point where "turning dead animal into meat" ends and "turning meat into edible food" begins, at which point her movements become more hesitant, until she ends up just staring at some herbs and mumbling to herself.]

And then... ah...

[After whatever miracle or disaster happens there, she can be found in the armory, going through her options there. She gives some of the swords a few test swings, but what she's really hoping to find is the perfect staff.]

[deviloftekkadan]

[The stone bed doesn't faze Mikazuki much, considering he's slept on the street before, although that nausea sure isn't pleasant. The surroundings are unfamiliar, but that's been pretty much the norm since he arrived on Earth anyways, so that's not the issue here. No, it's that he's not sure how he got to this place and that he doesn't know where everyone else is. As such, his path for the moment was clear: find Orga. If he found Orga, everything would be worked out sooner or later.

He's missing his gun and there's nothing else in the room that seems important (although he pockets the letter anyways even though he... doesn't recognize what it is) and leaves his room without bothering to lock the door. If he passes by anyone during his search, they'll be on the end of a rather intense stare for a moment before he walks away.

After some time when he's determined that there isn't anyone he recognizes, he'll be at the armory and eyeing some of the weapons, although he'll gravitate towards the maces as he grabs a hold of one.]

Oh, it's lighter than I thought it'd be.

[Considering he's pretty damn short the weapon probably looks a little oversized for him, but that won't stop him from taking a couple of practice swings. He'll be mindful of anyone else in there so that he won't accidentally hit people with it though, since he's educated enough to know that putting a mace in someone's face is usually not very good for whoever owns said face.]

[apothicaire]

[ Well, that's new. It's not the first time Erio's found himself in a unfamiliar location through his various mishaps with teleporting, but this was certainly setting a new record. Except he's pretty sure this wasn't his own doing.

First thing's first would have been to try and reach Hiante, or Astra. That's a no-go, of course. Whoever's summoned him not only stripped him of his link to them, but somehow they managed to strip away his magic too. Seems like they were kind enough to leave him a letter, though, the contents which are regarded with healthy amount of caution.

Normally he'd try to make an effort to blend in a little better before going out, but, well, seems like that's also a no-go. Welp. Nothing he can do about that, so why not poke around? There's plenty of reasons to be alarmed about the circumstances he's found himself in, yet if he is? He's doing a great job not letting it show as he idly browses around the armory, dryly noting the various weapons available. ]

Huh. No prize for guessing what these are for.

[ Guess who found the bear traps...! Because, yeah. Apparently we have those. ]

Evening

[intercessing]

[Some time in the evening, the Titled may feel a sudden chill in the air. An inexplicable feeling of being watched, deep down. And yet, just as soon as it comes, it is gone. As if it was never there.

However, a new sensation soon comes through. Its a smell. A very inviting, delicious smell. Someone, it seems, is cooking.

Those who venture to find the person responsible - and the longer the smell emanates, the stronger the compulsion to go and investigate - will find that there is a large pot over the cooking pit, filled with a green broth that is filled with some kind of yam and a dark meat. And, standing behind the pot is a very large figure, cloaked in black.

It is impossible to tell their gender. It is impossible to tell their age. All that can be discerned from beneath the cloak are two white pinpricks for eyes. And when they speak, their voice is like a rasping deep whisper.]

Welcome. I apologize for my tardiness. You may call me the Intercessor.

[They motion to the direction of the dining room.]

I have set your places for our discussion this evening - feel free to partake in what I have made. I am certain you all have questions for me. I will do my best to answer what I can.

[And with that, the Intercessor is gone, their own bowl of stew in hand, making their way to the dining room. There they sit, occasionally - and casually - taking a bite or two of their food. There's no way to tell how in the world they are eating, but they are eating, nevertheless.

And they are waiting.]

[mogarisready]

A
[The nausea Mogar feels as he awakes is nothing compared to the split second of panic that strikes him as he realizes he's in unknown territory. This feeling is only further cemented the further he ventures from his room. This is farther from any jungle he has ever seen.

No X-Ray. No Vav. No one. Only one thing to do then.

As soon as he leaves his room, Mogar jumps onto the nearest set of pipes and shimmies upwards to the ceiling.

Why? Well, ask him. He's just hanging there.]

B
[So one of the first things Mogar did was head to the kitchen where, like all bears, is driven to forage for food. At least it's easier here.

He currently sits by the fire pit, chowing down on an entire, small roasted animal. With his bare hands. Yeah...]

[astrangefigment]

[This bed is honestly not that much less comfortable than where Kevin previously was. Which is certainly not anywhere near where he is now. Gosh, he hasn't been in such an intact building in a long time

Well, that's okay! That's just fine! He's sure he'll make his way back to his little desert town, and there must be so many interesting new people to meet here in the meantime! What fun!

Maybe Carlos is here? The thought is uncomfortable.

Kevin makes his way outside and, without any apparent disease at what's happening, makes his way down to the armory. Should he not be openly assessing the knives, because he is pretty openly assessing the knives. He'll just take one. Maybe two. They're pretty good knives. Later, he can be found in the kitchen, efficiently skinning and preparing a rabbit for eating. There's blood on his sleeves, but he doesn't seem to mind.]

MONDAY

[strangerpeople]

[crywiththesaints]

[Sakura's already mapped out their prison by now, but a visit to the clothier won't hurt, where she's checking out the anachronistic clothing. She looks some things over and starts to gather up whatever will fit her.

She'll be in the main hall later, inspecting the pipes and clockwork.]

It's as if somebody had one vision of "the past" and threw it all together like a disjointed salad. Don't you think?

[Just before curfew starts, you can find Sakura in the kitchen, where she's got a dead squirrel on the table and is muttering something to herself...?]

[waluigi]

[Waluigi sees all these people coming into his kitchen today. He hates it. He hates it so very much. He tries to find a purple sharpie, as purple is a color. But alas, he is forced to instead use the blood of dead animals in order to get his point across.

Starting today, you will see a large message on the walls of the kitchen, written in blood:

GET OUT OF WALUIGI KITCHEN]

[coldsouls]

[ Levia can be found in the Clothier on Monday, eyeing up a cloak. Behemo had shoved a dress onto her, but it just didn't feel right to her anymore to not be wearing one, she'd worn one so long.

She needs a cloak.

... Maybe there's a red or a pink one in here.

After that she can be found in the Kitchen pointedly ignoring the bloody messages, and making some food. She's not an amazing cook or anything, but. She's already neatly skinned a few things, cooked them, and is seasoning them to put them on a bowl over the fire for herself. She lived like this a long time in her travels, so it's not new to her. ]

TUESDAY

[strangerpeople]

MOTIVE: And Her Tears Flowed

[strangerpeople]

[There is a strange sensation in the air when morning approaches. No one can explain it, but the longer the day goes on, the more it suddenly feels like someone is watching the Titled in the shadows. A quick movement on the edge of one's eye, for example. The odd, occasional sound of steps, echoing from behind.

And yet no one is there. No one but yourself, and the other Titled. And the Intercessor, whose voice suddenly echoes through the floor when afternoon comes.]

GATHER.

[It is not a request. The Intercessor is in front of the Armory, standing on the steps. In their hands are sealed papers, in red wax, Titles on their face.]

My employers...have a message for all of you.

[Everyone gets the same message. Everyone gets another piece of paper, this time with just a picture, enclosed within it. It is rendered in ink, and yet is so realistic-looking that one could be mistaken in thinking its a photographic image.

Some of the portraits have blood on them. Some of the Titled even receive small strips of cloth, speckled in blood. The cloth - the feel, the color - are all too reminiscent of those worn by certain persons the Titled may know.

The Intercessor says nothing as they watch everyone open their papers up.]

WEDNESDAY

[strangerpeople]

[The feeling of paranoia has remained. Indeed, it feels stronger today, than it did yesterday. Why? Wait--who was that?

No one? It was no one, right?]

[crywiththesaints]

[Well, since Operation Whatever-She-Was-Doing-With-The-Squirrel a few days ago didn't work, Sakura is going to test out her new power in the armoury instead this morning, so you can catch her holding out her hand and sprouting some kind of wriggling purple-black tentacle thing out of it. She stares and inspects it in disgust before going back to normal.]

Disgusting.

[Afterwards, you'll find her back at the clothier in a fancy dress pulled from there, inspecting the contents.]

Do you suppose these are the sorts of things they're wearing outside in this world, too?

[intercessing]

[The Intercessor is around. They walk the floor, head going back and forth, pinpricks of eyes still staring out without a blink. They are alone. They are always alone, it seems. And they are on patrol.

The motive. It calls for blood. So they are ever-watchful, now. Ever checking rooms to see if someone has, in fact, taken their employers up on the offer.

At some point, though, there is a deviation to this pattern. Instead of patrolling the floor in a generalized manner, the Intercessor makes their way to Room 10.

They knock thrice, and wait for the one within to respond.]

THURSDAY

[strangerpeople]

[Fear. Why do you feel it? It keeps tugging, keeps festering. So far as you know, your loved one...they may already be dead.

Oh god.

What if they are?

What if its too late?

What if its your fault?

No matter what you try, that lingering worry remains.]

[mogarisready]

[Fear? What fear. There's nothing to be afraid of, especially not for a guy like Mogar. Mogar isn't scared of anything, no matter what that person in your peripheral vision might say about him. But don't tell him that. Especially don't tell him that in the kitchen this morning. He's got his back to the wall, gnawing on a roasted pheasant with his gaze constantly scanning the room.

A broadsword, not his, hangs from his back. His instincts finally gave into a need to protect himself and he carries it around for the rest of the day. so you're gonna probably spot him around the barracks, marching off towards his room... when suddenly]

Who's there?!

[He whips around, drawing the blade in a swift motion, ready to face...

Nothing. Nothing's there, of course. Except possibly you.]