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

[ss_buttcrack]

Frell...

[He sags against the bars, pressing his forehead to the cool iron or... whatever this is made of.]

How long do you think we have until everything hits the fan? I got a call about going to see some number asshole about breakfast. Did you?

[astrogator]

Not long. If the purpose of this place is to break people down, they'll want to be efficient about it.

[Since these excursions only last a few days, right?]

I had that call too. I'm not going. I'm not going to make anything easier for them. That's what I meant about there being trouble if you stick with me. I don't want you getting hurt for my sake.

[ss_buttcrack]

I only just put myself back together again.

[It's like the universe wants him to stay crazy forever. Give a guy a break? Not that kind!]

Don't worry, I can get myself into my own trouble. I say screw doing anything these people want. I've got issues with authority, 'bout time I started acting like it.

[astrogator]

And you'll hold. You're strong. After everything you've already been through this is going to be... amateur.

[She lets go of his hands at last, steps back from the door.]

I don't recognise any authority I don't at least have mutual peaceable contract with. Yes. Let's not do anything they want. Who needs breakfast? I have coffee and cinnamon bars.

[Which reminds her of where that coffee is right now.] I wonder if we were supposed to be fooled by the accommodation. I bet you weren't. Not for a second. Spacers can always tell if they're shipside.

[ss_buttcrack]

I hope you're right.

[He has been through torture and held out. She's seen it. But, that doesn't stop the terror. The what-ifs? If they discover the knowledge that's in his head, it's going to be like the Gammak base all over again.]

Cinnamon bars sound better than the crackers I got stacked in my kitchen in here. Wanna come look?

[He waves his hand at the door panel to make them part for her to enter.]

I'll admit, waking up on that old bed gave me a split-second heart attack, but yeah, the noises were all wrong. It doesn't sound like Moya. Doesn't smell like her, either.

[astrogator]

[She hopes she's right too, Crichton. About both of them. Tayrey only gives him an encouraging look before stepping through the door. Something feels wrong about this, too close to stepping into another spacer's cabin, with all the Tradeline taboos and assumptions that go with it. She pushes away the feeling, recognising it as irrational. Instead, she glances around, taking it all in, a replica of the life he left behind.]

I'll trade you. Some cinnamon bars for some crackers. If we end up living off stores for a few days here at least we'll both have some variety.

[Tayrey shakes her head.] On the Prosperity you could hear the engine no matter where you were. Same for Moya, I take it. And it's impossible to replicate the smell of space planetside, so - well, you should see mine. Couldn't give me a whole starship, so I get my tiny cabin and then - a corner of the junior officers' lounge. Storage lockers that weren't in that corner. Like bits of the ship all melded together. It's all so strange.

[ss_buttcrack]

Deal. 

[He's learned not to discount how much sanity you can lose from just eating the same thing day in and day out.]

Yep. Same for Moya. Hers was like... a heartbeat, always thrumming. You could touch her sides and feel her breathing under your fingers. Not... not literally but, you know what I mean. 

[He laughs at the mental image of her home all mashed together. It's not unlike how his living room resembles something between the dining area of Moya and the bridge.]

I'd love to see it. I only got a small glimpse the first time. 

[astrogator]

I know exactly what you mean. I felt it on the Prosperity, and it has to be even more true for Moya. She's alive.

[She has to smile when he laughs. It's infectious.]

I'll give you the not-so-grand tour and point out all the seams. But you show me in here first. Where's the kitchen? I was never really allowed in the Prosperity's kitchen. Our cook is very... territorial.

[ss_buttcrack]

Sure thing. Here, this way.

[He will lead her around to a small kitchen set up that follows the same gold and metal theme as the rest of the interior. There's something that looks vaguely like a microwave with the handle on the bottom on one wall, and a small stovetop-like apparatus with a pot sitting on top of it nearby. No sign of anything that might be a refrigerator. Just some shelves with more utensils and some dry goods.]

Here it is. It ain't much, much they did somehow manage to recreate the food chute.

[astrogator]

[Ari's just going to pick up some of the dry goods and examine them, because she's inquisitive like that. Some of them are more familiar-looking to her than others.]

Food chute? It's more than I have, but maybe they know I don't know anything about cooking and might just burn the place down. [Said lightly, as if she isn't contemplating such things.] Although for accuracy they should have given me ration packs, not just a storage unit full of cinnamon bars.

Does it help, having an imperfect replica? Or does it just make you miss the real thing more?

[ss_buttcrack]

Well, the thing about the chute is that the food comes out of it already uh... cooked doesn't feel like the right way to describe it. Prepared? Yeah. It comes out ready to eat.

[It's exactly as appetizing as it sounds--meaning not at all. There's a reason he's had to take up running again on the Eterna, his pants wouldn't fit otherwise because it's been that long since he was excited about his food options.]

I... don't know. I miss Moya. But it was never going to be the same without the rest of my crew, you know? It could never be the same without Moya herself. She's part of that crew.