Trustfell Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trustharder) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.
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THAT IS NOT MOVING. THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT MOVING. Sigrun blows out, leaning on the machine and staring at Black.]
This is a lot heavier than it looks. [Not trying to save face or anything, but surely he knows that from her strong persistence it's true.] There's definitely something behind it, but I don't think we'll be getting to it anytime soon.
[Since... they can't move it, that is. There has to be something hiding.]
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THERE GOES THAT. ]
Maybe it'll move out of the way for us when it's time for it to, or if we put in a secret code or pull a lever. Like in the movies.
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Yeah, sure, one of those things. What's a movie?
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Really?
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well. ]
They're moving pictures, usually based off of books. They're really popular. [ HE... NEVER THOUGHT HE'D HAVE TO TELL SOMEONE ABOUT MOVIES, REALLY. ]
1/2
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Books aren't boring.
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[... Except she really has the urge to pick up a lot of them anyway, like they might be valuable or something.]
I'll leave that to people like you.
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I'd say "they might become useful" here, but given what I've read of them, they don't really seem like they're going to be any use at all. Except maybe as kindling, if it comes down to that. [ SHOCK... HORROR... THE BOOKWORM NERD SAYS IT he's just a little mad that there's nothing Genuinely Helpful in there, okay.
...he'll forgive the books and read them later. ]
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No, no, kindling wouldn't be good. [For some reason.] Let's just figure something else to do with them when the time comes. We could sell them off.
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Sell them off to who, exactly?
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Dunno. But I have a feeling we'd get pretty good money from it.
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[Look at that confidence.]
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Please don't kill anyone.
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[She's gonna come over and give him a nice pat on the head. She does this for all the kids?]
Or you can stick with me and we'll just leave together as a package to sell those bad boys off.
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That explains A Lot. ]
I'll--consider it, maybe? Uh. [ ......LET'S get off this topic. ] How's your shoulder?
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[Don't worry about her, kitten.]
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