END GAME: THE COUNTDOWN STARTS

[sailmods]

[the prisoners wake up on cold, hard floors.

the lights are bright, glaring, a sterile cell with sterile bars facing a sterile hall. the prisoners with you, across from you, and no one else. no rocking of a ship in waves, nothing. just the prisoner and their prison.

time passes, one assumes. the rhythmic click of Friday’s heels down the hall. it’s almost like the ticking of a clock.]

Comments

1

[sabigoe]

[ Fio stands helplessly, staring off into the distance. She's less of a crybaby than when she first arrived. Still, her eyes grow watery and she needs a moment to take deep breaths, trying to keep calm and collected. Everyone's tough and so is she. They'll figure a way out.

She blinks, snapping out of her daze when she notices the trail of ants. ]

...Ants? [ A beat. Then she realizes...

She drops down into a crouch, peering through the bars. ] You must be... Victor? ...Hello. Flan told me about you. All of you.

1

[saltwaterlungs]

[ ... is that those fucking ants they keep finding in the kitchen- that's a person?! ]

Hey- HEY- ANTS- can you get a message to someone?!

And You Told Me We’d Never Survive

[angrycrabnoises]

Karkat is mostly rambling to himself for the start of their imprisonment. But he starts to notice the man in the cell opposite him steadily pulling out his own feathers.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he winces, looking alarmed. “THAT DOESN’T HURT, DOES IT? BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUCKING PAINFUL.”

open to natsuno, ruby, rita, and flan (and cell escapees)

[inhairently]

( steve wakes up on a cold, hard floor and for a moment he almost expects to hear a dangerous voice in his ear — who do you work for?

but this isn't hawkins. he's not in a bunker under starcourt mall.

this is... something worse, actually. )

What the fu— ( he trails off as he stands and looks around. he's in a small, empty cell with natsuno. no beds, no toilet, no nothing. that lady — she'd said she wanted them all for exhibits. is that what they're calling prison blocks these days? either way they're fucked. they're all fucked.

for the briefest of moments he just stands there, at a loss, but then he's moving before he even realizes what he's doing. he rushes to the front of the cell to grip the bars with both hands. )

HEY! HEEEEY! ( he yells until his throat hurts. yells until his voice starts to go hoarse. ) YOU CAN'T KEEP US HERE! HEY!

( it's pointless. pointless and stupid. even if anyone's listening the odds of them actually giving a shit are uhhhhhh slim to none.

but he keeps trying, yelling and yelling with no regard for his neighbors or cellmate.

(at least until one of them tries talking to him.)

much later, after he's given up, he busies himself with investigating the cell. he counts the paces across. he tries to find weak points in the walls or loose bars in the front.

he just wants out. )

[freedomsuitsme]

"And you're not going to get out by beating yourself up against an unmoving object," he replies flatly, not taking even a beat to let himself feel insulted. "Stop wasting your energy and take a moment to think. You aren't doing yourself or anyone any good right now."

[thismaskismybadge]

Another familiar voice follows quickly, "He's right, Nimona. I couldn't budge them either. All our abilities are shut off. This is the last time you want to end up hurting yourself."

Open to: Ossie, Dedue, Crichton, Arthur, and anyone who can leave their cell

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar drags himself to consciousness by dint of sheer bloody-minded stubbornness, and is already muttering oaths before he's gotten to his feet.

Stubbornness means that he slams into the bars three times, and then a fourth for good measure, before admitting that probably won't work. There's nothing else in here, no junk to make into anything else --

(They locked us all in there, he can hear Curtis saying, in a vivid memory that comes with fog in the air and grass blades against his cheek. They didn't come back for months.)

"Hey," he says into the hallway, his voice low and unsteady, then louder as he recognizes his former roommate in mid-syllable. "Hey, Dedue! Dedue, man, are you all right?"

[inhairently]

( oh good grief.

he steps back to where he'd been sitting and squats, staring down at the ants. )

You're from the ship.

( a fellow passenger, as it were. he remembers now. )

Wait. She didn't put you in a jar or something? What is she, a moron?

[ossie_oswald]

"Dedue?" a tall gentleman who still looks handsome even in horizontal stripes sits up in his cell.

"My good man- can you see him? Is Dimitri with him?"

[not_the_last]

She's seen him -- it? -- him around the ship before, hasn't she?

"Are you," she starts to ask, and hesitates. All right seems like a foolish way to end that question.

Open To: Helena, Phil, Pratt, Kolchak, Jade, Sheo, and anyone who escapes their cell

[angrycrabnoises]

I sit. In my desolate room.

Karkat is mid-yell when he arrives in his cell with a start. He shudders and calls out, “NIMONA? NEPETA??” Upon hearing no response, he kicks at the wall in frustration, yelps, and grips his foot in pain.

“WELL, THAT PLAN COULDN’T HAVE POSSIBLY GONE WORSE,” he grumbles to himself once he can speak again. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK SHE DID, BUT I’M PRETTY SURE OUR ABILITIES GOT NEGATED AGAIN. OR AT LEAST I PERSONALLY CANNOT ACCESS MY STRIFE SPECIBUS OR MY SYLLADEX.”

[not_the_last]

"Dedue," she says, low but pitched to carry.

She doesn't know what else to say.

[gnighteverybody]

"I am! And that's the problem! Look at this-"

Yakko tugs on his own ears, which do not stretch any further than they could reasonably be assumed to.

"They took everything out of my pants! I can't even move the camera! Is this how the rest of you live?!"

[yournewsidekick]

"I can't shift." Her voice is high, panicky, half a sob; the Demon Horse/Rhino of Death that tormented Darcy never sounded like this. "Gwen, I-I gotta get out of here -- "

She slams her shoulder into the bars again, not even caring when the pain judders through her collarbone. She can handle pain. Pain's a thousand times easier than the way her skin feels like it's shrinking, squeezing, trapping her worse than the cell bars.

[saltwaterlungs]

"Take. A deep. Breath."

Great, pink girl and Gwen know each other, that cuts down on introductions substantially.

"You can be locked in here and panicking or locked in here and not. One is worse. Deep. Breath."

[theweakhavepurpose]

Pratt should remember Karkat, or at least what his voice sounds like. He made him a whole gift basket after the Lodge and everything.

But alas, he does not. He does however, remember the word Sylladex (mostly his immense jealousy over it.) And who told him about it.

"Eridan? Why are you yelling? We can hear you bro."

[hate_gettin_older]

"What --" Edgar's gaze cuts over to the man who's addressed him, and he pauses just long enough to register him as familiar before he answers. "Yeah, Dedue's right there," pointing with a jerk of his head, "I don't see Dimitri though -- can you see Max? Max Maximum? Or Nimona? Or Flan, or Fever?"

[glassaxolotl]

“Do you have any ideas?” he asks. “I will carry out whatever is needed.”

[yournewsidekick]

Sadly, taking a moment to think has never been Nimona's strong suit. She slams her fist into the bars... but this time, there's not as much force behind it, and she doesn't pull back for another strike. She just leaves her hand pressed there a moment before letting it fall away.

Breathing raggedly, Nimona sinks to the ground.

"I can't shift." Her voice cracks. "I-it happened at the tourney, too. I gotta get out of here."

[freedomsuitsme]

"There's no question that we need to get out of here. The question is how we get out of here. Now tell me, what can you see from your cell?"

He's not processing that this is the pink rhino that turned him into a bloody skid mark during the melee.

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue glances over in Edgar’s direction. “None of us are alright,” he says flatly. “I am unharmed, however,” he adds, figuring that’s about as good as one can be given the circumstances.

He looks around and shakes his head. “I cannot see any of the people you have named.”

Then, because Edgar seems to be talking with someone about him, he asks, “Who is asking about me?”

He flinches slightly at the mention of Dimitri.

[ossie_oswald]

"None of the above, I'm afraid," Ossie, "I see Wilson, our dear Daisy, and-"

...

"Good God is that a pile of ants?"

[thismaskismybadge]

Gwen stands close to the bars to try and get the best view between them that she can, with how tightly packed the things are. "Hey, hey, I know. It's weird enough for me right now, it's gotta be a hundred times worse for you. But we're gonna get out of here. One way or another. You just gotta try and calm down a little until we can figure it out."

[takethatnature]

"I didn't have any guns in the first place," Wilson protests, as if this is the most relevant problem with the way he and the rest of the passengers are being treated. He lets out an aggravated sigh. How did Smug Bird Lady manage to give him an outfit with fewer pockets than if he were to walk around in his underwear? Never mind, it's not like he has anything to store at the moment.

"I guess that explains it," Wilson says, still sounding nonplussed and resentful. Not mad at Victor, though.

He looks out the barred... not even a door, so the only way out is teleportation, a hidden mechanism, or destroying the walls. Or being ants, Wilson corrects himself, as the stream of Victors in teeny tiny prison uniforms (why does he need those, are there normal ants somewhere nearby that he would need to be distinguished from???) scurries out between them and into the hall. It takes him a second to recognise Ossie beginning to stir in the cell across from them. He stands up and leans against the bars, which frustratingly don't pop an Attack prompt while holding down Ctrl wobble in a destructible-feeling fashion and are too densely placed to wrap his whole hand around. There's Dedue on one side and Gwen and Darcy on the other, but past that the angle's too sharp to see in.

"We need to check whether everyone made it, and then find the door controls. And by we I mean you, because I won't fit." Wilson thwaps one hand against the bars.

meta.

[decrypter]

[she wakes up with nothing.

not her father's glasses, eternal good luck charm they are. not her own clothes, where the pockets hold touchstones - things to remind her where she is, who she is, connections to those she loves. not her cane, her eyes and ears and her marker of everything. there is nothing. there is nothing in this box. there are sounds, but she can't make sense of them. if she could see her own heart, would it be riddled with light, would it show the terror that comes? would it just all be a dream, and she's still been lost in the manor's halls?

she wants-

wants her head pressed to Security's chest, to hear the sound of its machinery and center herself in that familiar rhythm she summons with a memory. wants Erin's voice calling her little bird in that fond tone, to burrow into her embrace. wants Max's arm around her shoulder, steady and warm, and his laughter. wants Darcy's hand in hers, all sword trained and strong, and their whispers of love. wants her father to kiss her on the head, and tell her everything is all right. wants the grass beneath her feet and the sunlight on her skin and her family instead of this suspension in limbo.

she wants the triumphant choir of her life back.

there is nothing in this room. she half stumbles, half crawls to the wall. she sits against it, shaking, shivering - why did they have to make it so cold in here? she's freezing. like everything is being numbed in snow.

pulling up her knees, she folds her hands and softly begins to do the only thing she can do - praying in an endless murmur that's likely lost in everything around. don't let her break. not here. she has to find them all again. don't let her freeze. don't let her lose whatever keeps her going. if God can hear her - any god - then let her know.

time slips from her, and she's not getting any warmer.]