Welcome To The Village

[number_2]

Who: Everyone who was signed-up for the excursion
What: The Village December Excursion
When: Dec 1st - Dec 23rd
Where: The Village
Warnings: Involuntary capture and confinement including immobilization and restraints, violence, injury, maiming, possibility of death, torture, coercion, gaslighting, mind control, drugging, scientific experiments, and extremely inaccurate depictions of mental health facilities/hospitals, among other potentially triggering themes. Please mark all threads appropriately.




"Good morning, good morning, good morning!" A voice that sounds very similar to Friday's chirps over a loudspeaker outside your character's home. Yes, their home.

Overnight, all the passengers who signed up for this excursion have been transported to their very own personal cottages. They will awake in a bed that is familiar to them. While this home of theirs does not necessarily have to resemble the place they were born or raised, it will be a perfect replica of a place they truly thought of as their home, down to the most minute details.

The cottages are self-contained, the size of a large studio apartment so, in some cases, they may only resemble the bedroom and living room of a person's home with a shrunken-down kitchenette and bathroom adjoined. But the heirlooms of their past are here. A favorite doll? A treasured family portrait? Trinkets you have long forgotten about? All of them will be here, somehow. (All except for weapons, that is.) They are indistinguishable from the real item, down to the molecule.

After that wake-up call, the voice continues on to express that the weather will be warm and sunny, with no rain forecasted. A brass band concert is announced, to start at noon on the lawn next to the living chess set. And once that bit of news is wrapped up, lively marching band music will begin to play. And it will continue to play. All day. From every speaker...including the ones hidden in their home.

Welcome to Your Village

It only gets stranger from here. Characters may be dismayed to find that they are without any of their original clothes or belongings. They awake in conservative button-up pajamas. The closet in their home is full of the latest Village Fashion to choose from. Everything is The Village label brand, including the tin cans of food that stock the kitchen and any of the groceries you could get at the General Store.

Your ship phone rings. When you answer it, you will be greeted, once again, by the voice of Friday. "Your number, please? Of course, you have a number. Look at your badge." If they look down at their chest, they will discover a small round number badge has been pinned to their pajamas. Was that there before? It bears the symbol of a Penny-farthing Bicycle, with a number in the spokes. This is their number.

"No names here," the voice of Friday chides, "Only numbers. Number 2 would like a word with you at the Green Dome. He requests you come for breakfast. Thank you!" Before they can protest further, the line goes dead.


Some Notes:

No matter how many times your character tries to take off and disregard their number badge, they will always find it re-attached to their clothes again the moment they look away and look back.

Your characters still have their phones but now they can only make calls instead of sending texts. They also do not take or store photographs anymore.

If your character destroys or damages anything in their home, or in The Village it will instantly repair the way things used to on the Serena Eterna.

The noise from the speakers can be muffled by covering it with pillows or other creative items, but cannot be stopped entirely. (Sorry Phil)

Comments

ava ota pt2

[decohere]

i.
She breaks into her husband's cottage in a fit of rage, doesn't bother being sneaky about the fact with a rock smashed right through a window. If the door's unlocked she doesn't even try it, doesn't care. Maybe there's something she can salvage of his.

ii.
She can't sleep. Knows she should, to preserve her strength and clarity of mind. But the worry over her husband, the constant itching unease beneath her skin at knowing she's being watched at any possible moment, makes it nearly impossible. Her cramped room replicating the one place she never wanted to go back doesn't provide much comfort. Just reminds her of how trapped she is. Always trapped.

Curfew is at 10, but she chances outside around 1am, to sit just outside the door upon the front step designated as hers, gasping roughly for air to fight down the rising panic.

iii.
Ava sits with her legs hugged tightly to her chest, toes curling into the sand, staring out at the reflection of the sunrise over the water. The morning light hurts her tired eyes, but she doesn't look away. Thinking of the story her husband told her, of building a raft to escape this place, making it all the way to London... only to be returned as a nasty birthday surprise. Remembers him doing the same again on the island, witnessing that final moment before the tiny raft blipped out in the distance.

Building a raft would do her no good here, only takes her further away from the man she loves, but he was the one supposed to come with a game plan. She's doing him no good at all, sulking helplessly. She rubs sandy palms against her face, trying to properly focus. She needs a plan. Needs a plan. Needs...

She stiffens hearing somebody approach. Her inability to go invisible nullifying the one method of escape that she usually relies on when she's trying to hide how miserable she is from others. But surely everyone knows by now anyway.

iv.
She can't eat. Knows she should, but the appetite never comes. The constant stress is nearly nauseating. Peter is strong, she knows many aren't concerned for his wellbeing as she is. He's survived this for a year, after all. He'll be returned in one piece to the Serena Eterna at the end, like everyone else. He signed up for this, knowing better than anyone the risks. A day or two without her won't break him...

But every moment in the clutches of his enemy is too long. She doesn't know what he's being put through, keeps imagining the worst. Imagines he keeps expecting her to come rescue him, is probably being taunted that she hasn't. Isn't. Won't. Without her powers, it'll take considerable more effort.

She knocks and knocks and knocks at the green dome building.

iii.

[astrogator]

Here's someone who doesn't know. While others were at breakfast, Ari Tayrey was out playing lightning kalixtri with an old woman who may or may not have once been a Tradeline captain. She's been warned, she isn't totally naive. Captain Sinclair of the Keturah Line could well be nothing more than an agent of Number 2. Still, even kalixtri with a pretend Tradeliner seems far preferable to anything else in her life lately, so she finds she doesn't really care.

She kept to herself, after that. Tayrey didn't ask to be here, doesn't want to be here, and plans to preserve her mental equilibrium. Besides, she'd arranged to meet Peter in a secluded spot on the beach at sunrise, for an update.

Trouble is, he never showed up, so now she's walking along the coast, in case she was waiting for him in the wrong place. It's then that she spots Ava. She's unsure of whether to approach. Ava is clearly very unhappy, and she might want privacy. Tayrey stands for a moment, uncertain, not wanting to disturb the other woman but not willing to just walk on by, either.

[decohere]

"He's not coming," Ava says hollowly in acknowledgment, not bothering to glance over her shoulder to confirm the identity. She suspects it's Tayrey. Her husband had mentioned meeting her here, though in the exhausted haze of her mind she hadn't remembered until this moment.

[astrogator]

It doesn't surprise her that Ava knows. After Peter's revelation that Ava told him about what she thought had been an intensely private conversation in the infirmary, Ari Tayrey is just going to assume that whatever she tells one of them, the other knows, and adjust her levels of trust accordingly.

Ava knew exactly what this place was and she came along anyway, which is - her choice. No need to waste energy on any pointless discussion - but it does mean that Tayrey has no idea what's needed here.

She does know that Peter, a man of his word, wouldn't skip their meeting for trivial reasons. She fits the pieces together. 'He's hurt?'

ii

[goodweather]

Phil is nearby as frequently as he can manage. Both Starrs are dear to him, and with one trapped in turbotorture or something and the other left to just stew about it, he… worries, is the lightest word for it. From a widower to a wife, he worries.

The very best thing would be to fish Peter from the depths, but until they can figure out how to accomplish that Orphic task, he is not the one in front of him right now. Ava is.

That afternoon he brings her lunch. That evening he brings tea and a snack when he realizes she isn’t eating. Now, after midnight, unable to ignore the distant sound, he comes around the bend to bring the crocheted pillow from under his bed and the quilt blanket from on top of it. He’ll sleep under the capes, it’s fine. It’s not like he’ll wear any of them.

“Ava?” he calls so softly, the sourceless light of his Mantle burning low, as though he held an oil lamp.

[decohere]

It's an unfortunate side effect of how out of it Ava is that despite her nerves running high, she still misses the approach of Phil until her name interrupts. Her head snaps up from where she's picking at the scabs of her knuckles, eyes wide. His glow makes him easy to locate in the dark, that she worries he'll be spotted.

Is it really him. Or is this a trick. Even anticipating mind games has her own mind turning against her better judgment. She takes a shuddering breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

"Shh," she barely whispers, knowing he can pick it up and hoping any hidden microphones cannot. "They'll... they," Ava looks around nervously. Still, she beckons him closer.

[goodweather]

He does hear, and that prompt reminder of their circumstances--the stab of sudden fear--does the double duty of shrinking back the light of his Mantle as well. Even in the dark of night, it evaporates into a shy haze.

His broad wings spread. There isn't a whisper of sound as he clears the last of the distance between them and alights by her side, and wordlessly he pushes the pillow towards her lap, and the quilt he moves to put around her shoulders. Soft thick fabric, dated patterns. Real grandma stuff.

3

[theweakhavepurpose]

Pratt may be having a terrible time, but Ava is definitely having a worse one. Too bad Pratt has no idea that happened because he wasn't at breakfast. He skulks past with a silver serving spoon in his hand.

"Hey. You ever seen Shawshank Redemption?"

[decohere]

"Mn," Ava confirms unenthusiastically, a small glance at the spoon in his grasp as she puts together what he's seemingly intending to do if the reference is any indication.

It's better than any idea she currently has. "Where to?"

[theweakhavepurpose]

"Well in about two years I might be able to get underneath that dome." Even he realizes digging out with a spoon is ridiculous, but it's all he has right now. "I doubt the ship is parked out there somewhere and we can just swim to it, but that'd be pretty nice."

iv

[number_2]

One day, the knock is answered by the opening of the door. There is no butler to greet her. The foyer is empty, but the doors into the inner chamber of Number 2's lair stand open. Will she enter?

[decohere]

The only hesitation is a glance around, to identify any immediate threats despite empty appearances. She knows better. Of course they're prepared for her. But she charges inside, hands curled into fists. "WHERE IS HE?"

Ava can do subtle. Sneaky. She made an entire career on it. But sometimes the direct approach is all you have...

[number_2]

Number 2 is once more sitting in his fancy chair. His eyebrows raise as she charges in, but he looks more amused than anything.

"You mean Number 6, I assume. Here, sit with me and have some tea. I'll show him to you."

iii

[teethoftherisk]

It's Siffleur, padding softly over the sand. He lets Ava see him from the corner of her eye before he approaches. There's a half second of debate before he simply lays on the sand, and puts his head in her lap.

"I still have my claws." He tells her softly. "And I'll hurt anyone who comes near you right now."

[decohere]

"Ah," she responds softly in greeting, fingers immediately finding way into his fur. It's a much better distraction for her hands than scraping raw at her knuckles.

"They took my powers. And my husband."

[teethoftherisk]

"They can't keep them. If we don't rip Peter out of that prick's fingers, the Captain will when it's time for us to go." This isn't permanent. It doesn't make it easier to live through, and he's not going to tell Ava to not feel how she feels. What he can do is give her a little promise of protection and to purr to make her feel better.

"You're welcome in my room anytime you need peace and privacy. I'll sit on the front step, keep them at bay."

iii.

[inhairently]

Steve is walking along the beach, hands stuffed in his pockets, simply because he doesn't have anything better to do at the moment. He has ideas. He has budding plans. There's just nothing to be done about them right now. Everything feels stagnant.

He almost doesn't approach Ava when he spots her up ahead but in the end decides he can't let old, stale disagreements get in the way of looking out for each other. It seems like division is what Number 2 would want right now, and he doesn't intend to give it to him. Besides, he remembers how shitty he felt when Eddie disappeared, all those months ago. He figures Ava could use a listening ear if nothing else. The way she visibly stiffens as he approaches stops him in his tracks, though.

"Hey, it's just me," he says, lifting his hands palm out, placating. "Sorry. I don't have to stick around. I just saw you over here and thought you could use...I don't know, a friend, I guess."

[decohere]

"I could," Ava agrees softly, already relaxing her posture so that he might feel more comfortable approaching. "I was just thinking. About that time you took the raft out. On that ill-fated escape attempt..."

[inhairently]

Steve makes a tch sort of sound that almost sounds amused, but not quite. "It was one hell of an introduction to this shit," he says. "I can tell you that much."

That had really been Steve's first time meeting Peter. The raft had managed to flip Steve's first impression (that Mr. Starr looked way older than he was and was generally not a cool dude) entirely, leaving him looking up to Peter in a way that he didn't really anyone else. Not here, not at home.

He squints out at the horizon, quiet in contemplation. "Is this where he's from?" he asks, after a moment. He'd never actually talked to Peter about either of their homes, but Steve can piece together context clues.

i

[busball]

Klaus hears the sound of glass breaking and does just open the door trying to figure out who is making all the noise. "Ava." His voice is quiet as he watches her.

"Need some help? What's the plan?"

[decohere]

"There's no plan," Ava huffs, knocking more shards of glass from the window. Not being able to turn intangible has the pesky side effect of potentially getting sliced on the sharp edges, and she rather not bleed out in Peter's kitchen.

ii

[mistertwister]

Okie snakes through the Village shadows, too wound up to be properly careful. So far he's been right about how poorly sleep here is gonna go. He freezes when he sees someone else outside, afraid of getting caught, being sent back to that house. But the second he sees it's Ava, he closes the distance fast.

"Um, Miss Ava?" he whispers. "Is it okay if I sit with you for a bit?"

[decohere]

Ava nods, and reaches out a hand for Okie's. A quiet offer of support. She knows she's not the only one hurting from Peter being taken. Not the only one that feels so helpless.

wildcard.

[decrypter]

She's been asking for her. For Ava, or her number if she has to, because news spreads. It's a violation, that this place has taken him away - and she thinks if she had been at that breakfast, she might have even tried something foolish, because Mr. Starr is theirs. He's Ava's. They can't keep him.

But her friend needs her more than her anguish. The agony of having a loved one torn from you so - she can't fathom how much pain Ava must be in, to have it happen before her eyes. Even worse than death, to not know where he is. So Helena searches, as best she can. With no pearl, it won't be easy - but she's trying.

Re: wildcard.

[decohere]

Ava isn't purposefully avoiding anyone, no. But she is having difficulty justifying going out of her way to seek them out either. When she knows that Number 2 must be paying special attention to her actions, then others might become guilty by association. And whatever well-intentioned plans they might try to share will be overheard, and then useless.

But she hears that Helena has been looking for her, and Ava feels a twinge of guilt. It's not as if Helena could easily track her down in a place like this, even without her invisibility powers. So she spends some time wandering around the Village, tracing the mental map that Pratt drew out in the sand for her.

"Good day," she calls out when she finally spots the younger woman. Just two neighbors happening to cross paths.