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trusthell2016-02-28 12:00 am
trustharder) wrote in trusthell2016-02-28 12:00 am
Welcome.
You last remember feeling safe.
You don't know what caused that response, now that you think about it; you can't remember what you were doing before the warm, comfortable feeling came over you, a sensation somewhere between relief and the light contentment that comes with the knowledge that you're safe enough to sleep and god, are you ready to. It feels like you may have been sleeping for a while before this, even; your limbs are heavy in the memory, and you recall how difficult it was to open your eyes.
Turning your head is likewise difficult, it feels kind of like it's full of sand. Weighted-down by sleep. It's so much easier to remain still, and so you do, and before you haze out again you can vaguely hear a voice.
It's no one you recognize, and it sounds strange and vaguely distorted as you start to drift off again.
"Everything'll be fine."
There isn't an answer that you can hear; the voice speaks once more.
"...you ready?"
You don't remember what you wanted to say to that. Always, maybe. Or Ready for what? Or perhaps What's happened to me?
But none of it matters, because consciousness slips away from you too quickly for you to respond.
---
You wake up some time later; the comfortable, safe feeling from earlier certainly isn't dampened any by the bed you wake up in. Whether you like it soft as a cloud or firm enough to support the most finicky of spines, the bed you're in is nice, and it's pretty much exactly what you've been looking for in a mattress.
Shame the rest of the room is probably going to be a bit jarring when you wake up properly.
The room you're in is completely unfamiliar, all concrete and steel and almost nothing that makes it yours - but there's a trunk near the bed and there's what looks like a smartphone sitting on the trunk, and you might want to grab that before you leave the room. Trying to text or call out won't do anything for the time being, unfortunately, but it's something. A lifeline, maybe.
If you're looking to see if anyone is here with you, maybe you can find someone as you wander through the main corridor; after all, there are a few places to explore here, even if the bulk of the place is pretty much a straight shot down the center. If you're looking to gather, the dining hall is probably the best place for it, as it's large enough to accommodate all of you.
Wherever you choose to go, however, there are a set of rules posted in every room; the far wall of the dining hall, across from the entrances, also has a bulletin board with twenty-seven pictures, along with some...interesting information, posted on it. The board is large enough for all of you to look at it, but you might not want to try to get at anything posted there; just like the rules, there's glass in front of it, and it's looking to be extremely shatterproof.
Sorry about that.
There's one more thing you'll notice on your wanderings through the corridor – there are no windows, and there are no doors that can possibly lead outside.
Looks like you're trapped. Might as well get to know those that are here with you.
You don't know what caused that response, now that you think about it; you can't remember what you were doing before the warm, comfortable feeling came over you, a sensation somewhere between relief and the light contentment that comes with the knowledge that you're safe enough to sleep and god, are you ready to. It feels like you may have been sleeping for a while before this, even; your limbs are heavy in the memory, and you recall how difficult it was to open your eyes.
Turning your head is likewise difficult, it feels kind of like it's full of sand. Weighted-down by sleep. It's so much easier to remain still, and so you do, and before you haze out again you can vaguely hear a voice.
It's no one you recognize, and it sounds strange and vaguely distorted as you start to drift off again.
"Everything'll be fine."
There isn't an answer that you can hear; the voice speaks once more.
"...you ready?"
You don't remember what you wanted to say to that. Always, maybe. Or Ready for what? Or perhaps What's happened to me?
But none of it matters, because consciousness slips away from you too quickly for you to respond.
---
You wake up some time later; the comfortable, safe feeling from earlier certainly isn't dampened any by the bed you wake up in. Whether you like it soft as a cloud or firm enough to support the most finicky of spines, the bed you're in is nice, and it's pretty much exactly what you've been looking for in a mattress.
Shame the rest of the room is probably going to be a bit jarring when you wake up properly.
The room you're in is completely unfamiliar, all concrete and steel and almost nothing that makes it yours - but there's a trunk near the bed and there's what looks like a smartphone sitting on the trunk, and you might want to grab that before you leave the room. Trying to text or call out won't do anything for the time being, unfortunately, but it's something. A lifeline, maybe.
If you're looking to see if anyone is here with you, maybe you can find someone as you wander through the main corridor; after all, there are a few places to explore here, even if the bulk of the place is pretty much a straight shot down the center. If you're looking to gather, the dining hall is probably the best place for it, as it's large enough to accommodate all of you.
Wherever you choose to go, however, there are a set of rules posted in every room; the far wall of the dining hall, across from the entrances, also has a bulletin board with twenty-seven pictures, along with some...interesting information, posted on it. The board is large enough for all of you to look at it, but you might not want to try to get at anything posted there; just like the rules, there's glass in front of it, and it's looking to be extremely shatterproof.
Sorry about that.
There's one more thing you'll notice on your wanderings through the corridor – there are no windows, and there are no doors that can possibly lead outside.
Looks like you're trapped. Might as well get to know those that are here with you.
no subject
oh, he's being watched. Of course he is, duct-tape is loud. ...doesn't stop him from being embarrassed and trying to shove the duct-tape into a pocket that isn't... there...
so it clatters onto the floor instead and Black jumps like, half a foot back. And over his own feet. And--THE GROUND IS PRETTY FRICKIN' HARD, THAT'S WHAT I'M GONNA SAY. ]
Ow.
no subject
Bruce quickly makes his way over to the other, bending down so that he can extend a hand to help him up should he need it.]
Are you alright? [He asks once the other is on his feet again.]
no subject
I've had worse. [ ...AND HE HAS... ] I forgot I didn't have any pockets, so it was sort of a shock to drop the tape instead of putting it away.
[ though.... now that he's patting his puffy vest... he has pockets, doesn't he. they're zipped up, but they're pockets.
...let's just not mention this at all, stranger, he didn't notice. ]
no subject
Don't worry about it. I'm sure we're all a little disoriented ourselves from the abruptness of--everything.
[Pretty much everything.]
no subject
Mmm. [ ...everythinggg. ] Do you recognize anyone here? [ giving a wave to the list. ] I don't--I mean, that's not really unexpected for me, since as far as I know, everyone...
[ ...everyone... uh... ]
...I was in an... accident of a kind before I woke up here. [ drifting off there... hold on, come to think of it, in addition to his weird outfit change-- ] If that's true, then why aren't I hurt anywhere? I'm sure I had more than my fair share of cuts and scrapes...
no subject
No, I've never heard or met anybody else in here until today.
[His expression quickly softens, though, at the next bit. Bruce is no stranger to accidents and the such, doing what he's done before SHIELD dragged him out. And of course there's the whole thing about himself...
Well. Best not to go there.]
From what I've heard so far a fair amount of people here seem to have something about then that's either missing or changed. [For Bruce its only his clothes, at least, which isn't entirely alarming. But still, its... something, he supposes.]
no subject
Hmmm. ] So whoever's put us here is a thief on top of being a kidnapper?
no subject
[Their captor already has them all the way here, after all. Why not take their things while at it?
Not that Bruce had anything beyond a few clothes and a toothbrush in a small bag, but still.]
no subject
They're really not making a favorable impression on everyone like this.
no subject
[It's a bit hard to be fond of their captor, tbh]
Although I'm guessing they don't really care much for that fact.
[KIND OF REALLY OBVIOUS, BUT HEY.]
no subject
[ ...then again, the killing thing... ]
no subject
The fact that they didn't try it is something to consider.
[Even as absurd as it is. It's still something.]
no subject
no subject
[It is pretty accurate.]
no subject
It's not really Hunger Games-ish, since we've got plenty of supplies, no sponsors, and hopefully we're not entertainment for the bourgeois... I guess it could be like Saw? But they're not giving us any puzzles... [ he can't stomach movies like this but he's seen them. OH but maybe a little less bad-- ] It could be like one of those reality TV shows. ...except with actual potential murder on the line.
no subject
guess who isn't up to date with pop culture]
Whichever one of them it is, none of them are pleasant by any means. It really doesn't give any points for our captor.
[Putting them here just to have them murder each other??? So rude.]