day zero

[guestcontrol]

dreamland day zero 42 players remaining. [You wake up in a temporary barracks set up behind an amusement park. The weather is chilly but pleasant, and there aren't any lines for the rides - in fact, it seems you have this place to yourself. The entire park appears to have been abandoned some years ago, and though everything is in working order, it is overgrown with plants and seems rusted and unsafe. As for you, something has happened, though you aren't sure what. There's a throbbing pain in your head, and you can't focus, as though you're coming off heavy pain medications. However you think you should look, you look like a human now. Under the bandages wrapped around your temple, old and smelling like blood, you'll find a recently stitched up scar wound and the inability to focus on your memories. You have no knowledge of how you came to be here; you may even have forgotten certain aspects of your life, or feel confused about them. The fact of your missing memories is obvious, a dark blank spot. Under the bandages around your wrist, you'll find a brightly colored bracelet, decorated with the face of the smiling cartoon animal on your wall, embedded into your flesh. It beeps a merry tune and welcomes you to DreamLand Fun Park. Just then, a voice comes over the loudspeaker.] "Good morning to all of our new guests! The park is now open! We'll get started later, but for now, have a magical day with your new friends! Oh, and there may be a few nasty side effects to your medical condition. If you meet someone having trouble adjusting to reality, please be polite!" [In your room, you'll find a small box containing several personal items - no weapons, magical items, or technology advanced beyond the early 21st century, and nothing dangerous, but otherwise anything you would ordinarily find on your person is there. Of course, nothing with cell reception or internet connectivity can manage to pick up a signal. If you swipe your bracelet against the steel door, it unlocks. You may now explore your accommodations, or venture out into the park.] profiles character statuses setting This is an IC mingle covering the first day! Night roles will go up Monday at 4 PM EST, but you are welcome to continue to thread here once that happens. Make sure to follow any updates on plurk!

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a

[billows]

[ Francis's mindless pacing inevitably takes him to the mess hall, where he finds someone who looks incredibly familiar from behind. It's perfectly reasonable to seem insane in this situation, so Francis ends up reaching out a hand to clasp his shoulder, probably a little too tightly. ] Charles.

[bacchic]

[ All of his concentration has been placed on the plastic jar he holds; unreasonably so, but it's a belated reaction to his current predicament. And there's not even a bottle of whiskey around. He doesn't realize he isn't alone until that hand drops onto his shoulder and before he registers his name, he's wielding the coffee like a weapon, slamming the jar against Francis' head in some awful effort to get away, twisting and shouting wordlessly.

Still on guard, a step away, he stares in Resolute Confusion. ] Francis?

[billows]

Jesus Christ. [ To add another name to this list. He holds the side of his head, a little dazed, then backs up like Charles is planning to attack again. Some red blooms on the top of his cheek, but it isn't really so bad, not that he's used to being hit with instant coffee. ] Are you mad? God, this isn't rehab, is it? [ dear mom, he would have preferred palm springs. ]

[bacchic]

[ There's a long pause where Charles stares, a little disbelieving, before laughing abruptly. ] Oh god, are you okay? You scared the hell out of me. [ He reaches with the hand not still reflexively clutching the plastic jar as if to touch Francis' face before changing course; looking for ice instead. ] That's going to bruise, I think.

[ Belatedly: ] It's not, is it? [ Rehab. Surely not? ]

[billows]

[ Francis's lips are pursed petulantly, watching Charles's hand with suspicion, but actually ends up glaring more when it turns from him. ] You've always had so much confidence in your abilities. [ He turns away a little, idly poking at the sore spot which likely isn't helping his mood. ]

I don't know. We'd need to consent, and... [ The frown he ends up with a bit more distant, like he's troubled with himself. ] Well, hopefully you haven't hit that out of me.

[bacchic]

[ A few moments of fumbling yields a fistful of ice in a bundle of paper towels, the classiest of remedies. He doesn't look particularly sheepish when he hands it over. ]

Oh, stop. [ What a terrible line of conversation. He hesitates. ] Have you seen anyone else? [ He could mean anyone but he means Camilla in particular; it's obvious enough. ]

[billows]

[ Francis takes the ice and continues to scowl as he puts it to his cheek. Notably, though, the scowl has lightened. ]

I've seen a lot people. [ Like he doesn't know what Charles is talking about. ] I don't think she's here. Any of them. There's a list of us. [ With an uneasy glance to Charles's wrist. ]

[bacchic]

Well. Good. [ Probably. Though being separated from Camilla makes him uncomfortable, it's probably better that she isn't here. With the gesture, he finally takes some time to examine the bracelet further, browsing the profiles briefly; he doesn't find what he's looking for. ] Just us, then.

[ That isn't very comforting. Glancing up: ] Are you alright? [ He rushes to amend this. ] Everything aside.

[billows]

[ Francis does seem mildly sympathetic to his search. Being without the other in a stressful situation must amplify the fear. But surely Camilla is safe, and looking for them. ]

No. I don't know what's happened to me. Or you. [ And finally, he steps closer into a more friendly space. ] Though an apology might help.

[bacchic]

[ Fair enough.

He focuses on just where he hit Francis once he moves closer, finally looking a little guilty. ] You scared me. [ But he seems to relax a little; solidarity in fear, confusion, etc. ] I didn't mean to, obviously. I'm sorry for that.

[billows]

Fine. [ And it is fine, all of the energy he could put into holding a grudge focused on more important matters. ] Is that all there is? [ Now he's just frowning at the instant coffee, no real conviction in it. ]

Where did you wake up, anyway? I saw a snake, I think. Did you?

[bacchic]

[ He looks annoyed for a moment but it passes. Turning to glance at the coffee, he shrugs, suddenly weary. ] There's more coffee, I think, but nothing stronger.

No, an elephant. [ A pause. ] You know, it almost looked like you. Only rounder. [ Ha, ha. Ha. But he looks closer to crying than laughing; it's not a joke made with very much effort. ]

[billows]

[ He doesn't need to see the elephant to look completely unimpressed. Really, he gets the feeling he should be a lot angrier, but he can't imagine Charles is faring any better than him. Taking the ice off his cheek, he glances out to the cafeteria. ] You're hilarious. Look, let's go sit down. I have a pack of cigarettes. [ Trying to entice, he walks off to sit at one of the benches. ]

[bacchic]

[ Without saying anything, the bribery works, though he would have followed Francis for even an empty pack of cigarettes, too. He sits next to Francis instead of across from him, folding one knee to turn and face him. ]

It doesn't look bad. [ Which sounds crazy, but he's talking about Francis' cheek. ]

[billows]

[ He abandons the ice on the table in order to take out a couple cigarettes, handing one to Charles, then lights both of them up. It takes him a few moments to even process what Charles is saying, because this place looks terrible. Once he does get it, he brushes his knuckles across the wound again. ]

I suppose it's fitting now that I'm stitched up everywhere. Did you get a box of anything useful? [ By which he means a flask or bottle or anything containing alcohol. ]

[bacchic]

[ Well he's not going to ask again. He accepts the cigarette, leans to allow the light then leans back, glancing out across the empty room. ] I didn't get anything useful.

[ By which he means a flask or bottle or anything containing alcohol. Francis asking means they're in the same boat, he sighs out a cloud of smoke. ] We should look around. Check the perimeters, I suppose. Look for anything useful. [ By which he means flask or a bottle or… but he looks back, eyebrows knitting in concern. ] Do you need anything? [ Besides the obvious. ]

I don't suppose we'll be able to share a room, either. [ Not that he means anything by that. But being alone here at night is a hideous idea. ]

[billows]

[ It's a troubling sentiment because the kitchen probably has very little to offer them, or Charles would have found it already. ] Well, how long do you think this will be? They can't expect us to live off of instant coffee and one pack of cigarettes. [ He follows Charles's eyes and shrugs. ] I'm not well enough to eat.

[ He crosses his legs and, despite himself, looks amused. ] There's only one bed. Or did you want to try anyway?

[bacchic]

[ He takes all of this in silence, without any better information to offer. But he shies away from the look Francis adopts, waving the hand holding his cigarette vaguely. ] Well, never mind. It only seemed safer that way.

[billows]

[ Francis hums in what appears to be disinterest, an awkward silence as he tries to find some other topic to move onto. ] Say, what do you remember last? Before we got here? My head's fuzzy.