number_2 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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come_sailaway2023-12-01 07:53 am
number_2) wrote in come_sailaway2023-12-01 07:53 am
Entry tags:
- baldur's gate 3: fever,
- changeling the lost: erin peters,
- changeling the lost: giles,
- changeling the lost: okie,
- changeling the lost: oswald wuthridge,
- critical role: cassandra de rolo,
- far cry 5: deputy pratt,
- far cry new dawn: sharky boshaw,
- farscape: john crichton,
- geist the sin-eaters: darcy lejeune,
- generator rex: césar salazar,
- groundhog day musical: phil connors,
- homestuck: karkat vantas,
- identity v: helena adams,
- kolchak the night stalker: carl kolchak,
- lavender jack: honoria crabb,
- mcu: ava starr,
- nimona: nimona,
- original: flan fraser,
- original: siffleur,
- original: valdis,
- overwatch: bastion e54,
- overwatch: maximilien,
- rwby: ruby rose,
- sherlock holmes: john watson,
- shiki: natsuno yuuki,
- skulduggery pleasant: skulduggery,
- spider-verse: gwen stacy,
- star trek ds9: elim garak,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- tales of vesperia: rita mordio,
- the elder scrolls: sheogorath,
- the prisoner: number 6,
- the umbrella academy: klaus hargreeves,
- werewolf the apocalypse: ash cromwell
Welcome To The Village
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)
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 subject
Fuck it. If she's going down, then she better come back, like everyone says happens. Like does happen, sometimes. She still has one good arm, and a recently sharpened cooking knife in her clothes that she'll grab for. 44's quick, likely will stop such insubordination and noncompliance, but Fever cannot back down. The hatred in her eyes is clear, even as the blood runs from her mouth, her face, her arm. Slashing without a plan, hoping somewhere in the frenzy will catch, pull even a drop from the other, make her feel just a touch of this pain. Before her energy runs out, before she'll have to yield to that particular lifeless embrace.
Never go down easy. Never beg for mercy. The inside of her head is one unending howl of bloodlust.
no subject
She's gone.
Then that claw slams into 17's kidney, a paralyzing blow. Lips against the sorceress's ear: "Do come by. Do this the fun way, where I take care of you. You'll feel so much better."
She twists and rips before cradling 17's throat in that claw and squeezing.
Be seeing you, 17.
no subject
So, she lets two days pass before she finds 44's cottage and knocks on the door. It's evening, and she's made sure to carry herself in the best way possible - with the air of someone who's amused she got her tongue cut out instead of furious enough that she would love to have the lump of flesh to shove down the woman's throat and make her choke.
"How's that phrase supposed to go? We'll see you?"
All part of the plan if she can rustle some feathers, which. Is really a skeleton instead of a plan.
no subject
44 is in the kitchenette, stripped down to her shirtsleeves and preparing some kind of marinade. Or, well, she was; she's all eyes for 17 now.
no subject
"Oh, don't let me interrupt you, if you're busy. I can wait."
She'd rather drown the woman in the marinade, if she really, really had her choice, but that's not why she's here. Yet.
no subject
She's not bitter, you're bitter.
"Besides, this'll keep." And indeed, 44 starts tidying it away.
no subject
While she talks, she gestures a little with her hands, to illustrate the point.
"One is that I've come here seeking revenge. We'll fight - I'll do my best to make you eat lightning while you no doubt try to rip my face off again. The odds are stacked against me, and therefore, all it likely would accomplish would be giving you some pain and making you clean up after us while I have to go and get revived. But there's another option. That would be that I've come bearing a gift for you."
There's a little pause to make sure that she's listening, but also for the slight theatrics of it.
no subject
no subject
"Power. A chance, for a few hours, to be the master instead of the servant."
She's taking a gamble. But between how much 44 seemed to chafe at her chains in the right light, and her specific invitations, Fever's willing to place this bet. If it plays out well enough, she'll even forego considering breaking 44's neck in the aftermath.
"To be in control, instead of controlled."
no subject
No, not down it. Just above the skin, like she's used to touching something else.
Playfully, and yet, a little forced: "...But if you're offering to let me take care of you, those dangerous hands of yours do need cuffing. Just to be sure."
no subject
"Only if that's what you truly want. The gift you choose."
Her expression says enough, as she lets her arms drop to her sides. 44 is in this one hundred percent, or the option is off the table. If she has doubts, then they can face it, or Fever will respect them as they are, and fall back to the lightning idea.
no subject
"I wanna hear out of your mouth why you'd make this offer if you're so sore about dying."
no subject
Two slow steps in her directions. Everything about her, from her expression to her posture to her tone bleeds sincerity. There's no slippery tricks under this. It is perhaps more frightening that she means it.
"I think no one has asked you what you want in a long time, 44. And hells, I'm not doing anything else tonight."
no subject
She steps in, hand with the cuffs visible, the other taking Fever's wrist. Drawing it, with careful steps, behind Fever's back. No sudden movements; gentle, slow.
"...I used to help people," 44 murmurs. "When the wolves were at the door I led the militia. Trained them. Soothed their hurts. For a moment only they could give their lives to me and know they'd get them back."
"Are you trusting me with yours?"
no subject
"...I am, commander."
It's an apology, as much as it is yielding to trust. Her life in the hands of someone who could kill her, has killed her. Death has no threat - life is what does.
no subject
She draws 17's other hand behind her back, and cuffs them together. There's a brisk check, just to be certain, and then 44 paces over to the kitchen counter. She flashes a grin and her empty hands, then produces the key to the cuffs with a flourish.
This she sets on the counter.
"You'll have to wear some of my clothes out."
no subject
Standing like this, there's a little shift in her posture. Where she had come in, barely restrained bitterness and more sure of herself, now there's something waiting. Trying to predict what comes next.
"Fine by me. I've got no attachment to these ones."
It's not like they'd be getting rid of actual armor.
Might Want To Migrate Soon?
It's not a perp walk; this isn't that kind of power game. But 17 is being walked to the pew 44 uses as a bed, and it's not a request.
There are no names in Heaven. But...
"How does someone end up being called Fever?"
There's plenty of intelligence gathering. Which is definitely what this question is.
no subject