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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charles macaulay | various

[bacchic]

a. mess hall

[ It takes him awhile to finally leave his room but once he does, it's to search for what fortunately appears to be the cafeteria. Poking around in the box of his personal items had been incredibly underwhelming, missing most notably a flask, and a drink would be perfect right now. Already uneasy, he shifts very quickly to frustrated once an initial search turns up nothing stronger than instant coffee.

A plastic jar of instant coffee which he is staring at very furiously. Very silently. Very forlornly. ]

b. pleasant street / costume shop

[ Reluctant to examine the rides too closely, Pleasant Street almost looks pleasant, desolate and meager in a way that could have been charming in a postcard, maybe. He can be found wandering into all the less empty shops and peeking into some of the more questionably barren ones, lingering outside the candy shop (with an unreasonable craving for ice cream; which seems unlikely to be served) but spending most time inside the costume shop. Morbid curiosity, maybe, has him lifting up princess veils and devil horns until a clown mask falls to the floor across the room and he nearly jumps out of his skin, slamming his hand in surprise against a spinning rack of tacky glasses, making more noise in the process. ] Oh, Jesus Christ.

[poyoyon]

[ All the noise startles someone else who was poking around - or who just came in, rather - and Ibuki reacts in the best possible way:

Screaming at the top of her lungs and panicking. ]

IT'S A TRAP!

[ stop no why ]

[bacchic]

[ The scream is contagious because of course it is, everything has been so quiet until just now, so he shouts until he wheels around and notices her screaming — apparently unprovoked — clutching at his chest with a wild look. ]

What, [ What. ] why? Are you alright? Is there something—? [ Hurting you? Attacking us? Wrong?? ]

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.

A

[photonement]

[A teenage girl walks into the mess hall with such deliberation as to show her effort in staying steady on her feet, and some time later turns to Charles, having identified some kind of militaristic kettle.]

Here, I think you can boil water in this.

[bacchic]

[ She goes entirely unnoticed until she speaks and he jars slightly, startled until his gaze drops to the kettle. Which is hideous. But helpful. ] Oh.

[ Remembering himself: ] Oh, thank you. [ Lifting the coffee in one hand: ] Did you want some?

[photonement]

[She shakes her head.] Nah, not really. But did you find any tea?

[She's not even sure yet which cabinet those packets came from. These mislanguaged labels...]

[bacchic]

Oh, yes. [ What a curiously relaxed conversation to be having; he laughs a little anxiously before looking away, fumbling back through a certain cabinet. ] But I can't read what kind it is. Do you—have a preference?

[photonement]

Green's fine! I mean matcha, but they probably won't call it something that specific anyway -- anything that color should be just fine too. Thanks.

[bacchic]

Sure. [ Polite enough; it gives him something to do. He fills the kettle, puts it on, begins sifting through the tea curiously; there's actually the proper kind, powder in a small container. Halfway through keeping himself occupied, he turns, offering a smile. ]

I'm Charles. Do you know anything about — this place? How we got here?

[photonement]

Mahiru, and I'm afraid not.

[She touches the tender spot on her head, bandage stained so red it almost blends in with her hair.]

I just woke up, and there was the watch, and... I don't remember anything at all for hours before that.

[Still frowning, she shuffles over to fetch two styrofoam cups for them.]

A;

[siggey]

[ I don't think I've ever seen a guy this pissed at coffee. I kinda feel bad for the coffee. ]

So, uh... You gonna take that?

[bacchic]

[ What. ] What?

[ Glancing up abruptly, fully aware that he most look ridiculous, he clears his throat and laughs a little uncertainly, easing his grip on the container like he's been caught doing something Terrible. ] Oh, I was just thinking. Did you want it? [ Then, guessing at his age: ] Have you found anything… stronger?

[siggey]

[ Oh, he's laughing! Haha, I guess he must've realized it. I figured he was probably thinking about something else, but still, man. Poor coffee. I'm sure it never did anything to deserve being glared so viciously.

I chuckle back too, feeling the knot in my shoulder unwinding. ]

Sure, I'll take what I can get. And... Uh, not really, at least not yet. I just got here, so I haven't really had a chance to search.

[bacchic]

[ He's not feeling too badly towards the coffee just now, all things considered. But he does set it down on the counter like he's reluctant to look too greedy, grateful for pleasant company. More importantly: ]

I just got here, too. Are you just as… [ Clueless? Terrified, maybe? ]

[siggey]

Man, seems like the case for everyone. At least you don't look younger than 16... I've seen way too many kids here for comfort. It might fit the theme, but knocking us out, kidnapping us, and dropping us in a messed up abandoned amusement park's disturbing enough for adults to deal with.

[ I'm reminded of the bandage I took off earlier by my temple when I idly ran my hand through my hair. ...Shit, right. Ugh, it's still really sickening to thing back about... I hope it didn't look too awkward, when I brought my hand back down. ]

But yeah, my head still hurts, and I really don't like not knowing anything. Like where the hell this really is, why they took us, and what for.

[bacchic]

[ His face contorts, distressed at the idea of children around — younger than sixteen — crossing his arms over his chest with the coffee momentarily forgotten. ] Jesus.

[ It's murmured slowly; everything this guy is saying sounds about right. But it's comforting, at least, to be in similar company instead of anything more Hostile. Maybe comforting isn't the right word. ] Well, listen. I'm Charles. If I can help with anything — [ besides coffee, he doesn't say ] — let me know. I'm sure we'll figure this out.

[siggey]

I'm with you there.

[ I solemnly nod. As two of the few adults that are actually around, it's normal for us to feel more responsible. ]

Sigma. And same, we're all gonna find a way out together. Can't say I'd mind meeting our captor's face with my fist on the way, though.