event: new and improved; factory day 1

[mayfield_mods]

[Welcome to the Factory.

A blackened, dilapidated building sitting on the edge of town, it seems to have appeared out of nowhere overnight. It is surrounded by an electrified fence; should anyone on the outside (or the inside) try to cross it, they will find themselves repelled by the force with painful electric shocks. No amount of strength, size, magic, or flying ability will get you past the fence.

The Factory itself looks like it's been through hell. It's falling apart on the outside. Half of the building looks collapsed. The bricks are scorched. All of the window frames are rusted. It certainly doesn't look like a place that should be up and running, but it is. Dr. Johnson and her team are scurrying around the building, performing treatments, operations, and experimentations- making 'improvements'.

Following your treatment and/or surgery, you wake up- or don't- in a filthy room. It's nothing like the fairly sterile surgery room had been. You're crammed in there with dozen other 'patients', each in varying stages of recovery.

You're probably in moderate to severe pain. The pain might be so great that you are incapable of moving. Perhaps some of your limbs are missing or maybe you find huge gaps in your memory. Maybe you're very sick with some disease you don't recall developing. Either way, you were sent in for 'improvements', and you've been 'improved' as much as Dr. Johnson thinks you needed.

If they're lucid enough, the other patients will probably talk to you. You'll find that, like you, they're all non-drone townspeople.

You'll be contained here for 24 hours. Following that, you'll be released. When you leave the building, you'll find yourself outside the hospital in Mayfield with the Factory nowhere to be seen.

The Factory rooms are as follows:

Recovery: A large recovery room with dozens and dozens of gurneys and beds. It's filled with equipment like IVs and medical charts. This is where all characters will wake up. It's very unsanitary in here.

Operating room: Where you endured your surgery, treatment, and/or experiment. All operating and medical supplies are still here. Dr. Johnson is nowhere to be found.

Supply room: Standard medical supplies are found here. They include typical doctors' equipment, bandages, medicines, and the like. There's nothing particularly strong or lethal here, nor is there anything sharp which could be used as a weapon.

Lobby: The front lobby of the Factory. Designed like a hospital lobby, it also contains the waiting room. Dated 1950s magazines are strewn everywhere.

Today, January 27th, the following characters will be brought to the factory following their operations:



Kumatora
Trisha Elric
Shana
Crowley
Netherlands
Gilgamesh
Jane Barton
Hiling Care
Peter Parker
Tatsuki
Karina Lyle
Australia
Accelerator
Madame Foster
Rory Williams
Spain
Tieria
Raz
Mr. Freeze
Sideswipe


[ooc; The Factory post will be used for IC interactions for the 24 hours that your character will be made to stay. They are free to interact with other patients before their release. Only the above characters should reply to this post.

The mods will respond to the sign-up comments of the above characters to let them know the results of their surgery.]

Comments

[battymadam]

[ever the energetic one, Foster stirs early, although her eyelids still feel heavy and she doesn't want to open them. Her nose twitches, twitches - there's something itching beneath it. Sleepily, she flops her hand over to scratch at her brand new mustache. Scratching isn't making it go away, though. She sniffs some more.]

Ha-choo!

[the loud sneeze hurts her ears (the fuzzy large ones on top of her head) and jerks her fully awake, and her eyes pop open. Oh... she can't really see very well. Or rather, she can only see out of one eye, as she discovers when she squeezes her right one shut. She grumbles.]

Darn eyesight, always gettin' worse as the years roll by -

[she sits up and raises one rabbit ear, looking around sleepily.]

Huh... did someone redecorate?

[give her a minute to remember what happened. She's on some good surgery drugs right now.]

[koyo]

( Redecorate is an understatement. Oh my God what is with all of these colors and why are there eyes staring at him and where did all of these butterflies come from?

Spain is on a bed not too far away. )

I don't know! Where are we?

[vedaandme]

[Tieria hadn't been put out, but then, they hadn't done much to him. How they had managed to drag him in there in the first place was baffling all on it's own, but he was staring at a needle mark in his arm... and looking very very depressed.

In fact, he was going to kind of ignore people at first... though, if someone addressed him, he might answer. This might change later when his mood shifted.]

[koyo]

( In the recovery room, Spain is checking the medical charts that are at the ends of the beds. He's trying to find out what's happened to all of them but the lack of information is really quite frustrating. Once he sees there is nothing on Tieria's chart, Spain tosses it onto the floor and looks up, )

Ay, do you remember anything?

[prideinbattle]

[Hiling goes over to Tieria's bed. She can't see any immediately visible modifications. It annoys her that he isn't doing anything. Kicking his foot, she tries to get his attention. She doesn't really pay attention to how hard she's kicking him with her metal foot.]

Hey, Tieria. Hey!

[subzero]

[Infected Blood Type AB Negative

He was sure of it. Before he passed out from the drugs they put in him, the surgeon was carrying a pack of blood with that label. At the time he was too deep in to comprehend what it meant. But, after waking up an hour ago and finally being able to go over his memories (most of which were still foggy, like how he even made it to wherever he was) he realized what was happening. AB Negative is a rare blood type, but that wasn't what brought him concern. It was what he was experiencing since he awoke.

Shortness of breath.
Overall fatigue.
Painful headaches.

It was the same symptoms she experienced in the early stages of the disease that threatened her life. He researched the notes day and night and they were practically seared into his memory. Only now instead of looking over his work, he was in her shoes and experiencing her pain. In a way, it was almost catharic to be in the same position she was. To understand her pain and carry it with him.

But, he couldn't stay here.

After about an hour of being in the Recovery room, he will attempt to stand from his spot and leave the room. Naturally his surgeries will make moving very difficult and he alone stumbles a few times before finally managing to keep balanced on his legs. And much of those times he will being groaning and letting out small and yet silent screams from an alien pain. Anyone is welcome to come with him if they choose - he'll probably need all the help he can get.]

[ooc: I don't mind time paradoxes, so multiple people can explore with him if they want. Can just say he left and came back and so on.]

[soveryhuman]

[ Oh, oh oh oh that's probably not a good idea is it.

While he's stumbling and making his way over to the door, Rory is hovering nearby with his hands up a bit, like he's waiting to catch him, which he sort of is, even if he's not sure he should try catching anybody. It would be nice to be able to actually do something useful today.

Kind of glad that this guy doesn't seem to be falling, for all that he's clearly in pain. God, what even happened to him? So Rory just sort of... sticks nearby. 8I ]

I don't know if- are you sure you should be going anywhere, right now?

[guardiandragon]

[There wasn't a drop in her system of any sort of drug or anesthetic, so she remembered everything clearly. Being strapped to the table. Being gagged after spitting in the surgeon's eye and shouting things at her that would make a sailor blush.

And then they flayed her alive.

The pain was still unbearable. Her movements were labored, not least because she had an additional four hundred pounds of herself to haul around in the same small, lean frame, or that her new "skin" was about as flexible as a heavy alloy could be expected to be. Rather than try, she just sat in the corner, gazing at her reflection in her hands.

This was wrong on so many levels.]

[webball]

[Peter's eyes snap open for the first time in hours, the gnawing pain shoving him awake like a child on Christmas. He blinks, reaching a hand up to rub his eyes and massage his aching forehead. He has the WORST migraine he's ever had... maybe he came down with something...hard.

He looks around and freezes. What is happening. This isn't... his room. This isn't his real room either. He looks over, mild panic building in his system with each passing second. He's stretched out on a gurney, just one of at least twelve. Other injured people occupy the rest, groaning and tossing in their sleep, or wakefulness, in some cases. He looks over at the one nearest him, a girl who looks... Jesus... metallic?!]

Uh... 'scuse me? Hey?

[enpatsushakugannouchite]

[ Shana just looks over to the metallic girl. She's been flayed herself, her own white flesh replaced with a clear coating. Every organ in her body can be seen. She's pretty doped up, and blinks at few times. ]

[stabbywheelfeet]

[There is an Autobot in the room, everyone. Not as big as an elephant, but possibly as noticeable.]

[Especially considering he wakes with the tail end of a strangled scream in his throat.]

[Every inch of paneling is twitching, fluttering, almost, like muscles twitching in spasms under skin. He curls in on himself, a ball of shivering, wide-eyed silver armor. His engine tries to rev, a terrified, desperate sound, but all that comes is a kind of choking cough. His movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and pained. Blue optics dart around the room, the normally bright lights within flickering wildly.]

[The organics, the humans, his optics land on them -- on the others in the room -- and he jerks back out of reflex. The memory of the woman, the drones, and the light. Their hands on him before darkness.]

[He wants to cry out again, but as soon as the desire flits through his head, it's replaced by anger. The trembling doesn't ease so much as it becomes less noticeable, as he lashes out at empty air with one wheeled foot. Mechanisms in his leg creak, the joints grinding and popping, causing him to stare at it.]

[... something... is horribly wrong.]

[prideinbattle]

[Hiling is immediately drawn to the other mechanical being in the room. Approaching cautiously, she tries to figure out what seems to be wrong with him. No doubt it was the result of some horrific surgery. Being in such an unfamiliar situation, it's at least slightly comforting to find someone vaguely like herself, even if he seemed to lack squishy parts altogether while some of her body was left intact. She watches him flail, stepping back to a safe distance, talking to no one in particular.]

First the dairy, now we're somebody's experiments. I've had about enough.

[prideinbattle]

[Nothing hurts now. Most of her body had been replaced with a robotic metal frame and she got to watch, fully conscious of what was going on. She isn't sure what to make of it now that it's over. At least now she doesn't have to deal with the injuries that appeared yesterday.

She sits on the end of her bed, flexing her shiny new metal fingers and looking around at the others in the room. Some of them, she notices, are still sleeping and that makes her jealous. If sawing one's limbs off doesn't call for anesthesia, she doesn't know what does. She gets up, annoyed at them and annoyed at being stuck in a room full of humans and their filth.]

[gezellig]

[There is a very odd-looking guy sleeping in this corner. He's still completely out of it.]

[lamingtons]

[When you see someone who looks vaguely familiar and you have no idea what's going on, obviously the best thing to do is go up to this stranger and kick them.]

[icyidol]

[It was painless.

She was awake, or what passed for awake, during the surgery, though she didn't really feel anything. That wasn't much of a comfort, though, because she saw...a lot of things, basically.

But at the same time, she remembers very little, now, aside from her name. A large chunk of her memory has disappeared with the surgery, though there are the occasional flickers.

It doesn't help that she's groggy and disoriented and goes straight to sleep once there's a bed of sorts underneath her body. When she does wake up, though, she takes a moment to pull herself to a sitting position.

One may notice that there are three-inch rose thorns protruding from her back, and that the skin of her arms and legs are made out of ice.]

...where...

[She lifts up a hand to her forehead, but stops when she sees ice instead of flesh. There's a moment of dawning horror on her face, before she practically tries to scramble off the bed. She knows this shouldn't be happening, shouldn't even be possible, yet...yet it has.

She needs to get out of here, get somewhere safe. Anywhere safe.]

[subzero]

[Freeze easily notices the girl scrambling around, but it isn't her he focuses on. It's more the sight of her icy skin. He's too weak to move (yet) but he will weakly move his head in general direction and speak.]

Don't overdo it. These surgeries were purposely done to be hideous.

[eyesofaserpent]

[Crowley hadn't been put under. But then again, he'd only been injected with some strange liquid. They refused to tell him what it was.

He paces about the Recovery Room in agitation. Why won't they let him out? He felt fine. He wanted to go home. Or at least to either Aziraphale's house or Giles's house.]

Bollocks. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.

[enpatsushakugannouchite]

Mou! At least you have skin still. [ Shana has translucent skin. She's in no pain, but she looks like she's been entirely flayed. ]

[ra_ra_razputin]

[Raz doesn't remember the first few hours, having spent it in a drug-induced stupor that made him feel like he was hit with a dozen confusion grenades. Slowly, though, the grogginess began to wear off... and then the itching began.

It was unbearable. Even with extra fingers (wait, where did those come from?), he couldn't scratch hard enough to make it stop. He figured it had something to do with all of this... fur?... that had somehow sprouted all over his body.

Any other time he would be up and investigating what the heck happened, but right now he's still confined to the bed he woke up in, furiously scratching at an itch that won't go away. He's so distracted, in fact, that he hasn't even noticed his brand new tail, which is twitching erratically.]

[battymadam]

You'll scratch your skin off at that rate, monkey boy!

[although, Foster has a mustache now (aside many other features belonging to a certain bunny rabbit) and she must admit that it is pretty itchy too. But this kid really needs to calm down.]

[soulless_soldier]

[Despite being groggy and feeling sick to her stomach, Barton is trying to find a way out of this place. She wasn't getting very far, though. It's obvious a part of her skull has been operated on. She was aware of everything through the whole thing, and is considerably weakened thanks to whatever it was they did to her.

She ineffectually tries to open a window. Her head hurts too much to concentrate on her telekinesis. After a moment she gives up, and slides down against the wall to the floor.]

Damnit.

[eyesofaserpent]

You don't look so good.

[Crowley, on the other hand, looks normal so far. It hasn't been very long since he'd been injected with that strange liquid.]

Maybe we should get you something to lay down on...

[webball]

[Where the hell is he...? He looks around him and starts to feel sick to his stomach. Dim lighting illuminates the scene: over a dozen hospital beds crammed into a moderately large room, IV tubes dangling about him like trees in a forest. Injured people moan, toss and turn in their beds. Some are still unconscious, mumbling or twitching. Others simply lie there, looking around them stupidly, or down at their limbs, almost as if they don't remember ever being born with them. The beds are stained, yellowing blankets and rusted wheels being their only characteristics. He needs to find out what's going on. Now.]

Hey! [He say aloud, looking at everyone around him.] Where is this? What happened here?

also, feel free to dogpile on this thread as we all try to figure out what's happening

[webball]

/quietly screams in this post... sldkgjsdf

[nurture]

[the feeling of being unwell is a familiarity. before Mayfield had given her a second chance at life, it had been a steadiness -- a part of the routine until she had, unfortunately, been unable to hold out for the one thing she had wanted more than anything in the world.

sad... it's sad, that despite knowing that he never came for her at home, Hohenheim is the first thing on her mind as her heavy eyelids crack, here. the dilapidated ceiling that greets her is unfamiliar and she's dazed, groggy and disoriented... pain thankfully dulled behind the drugs that are still wearing themselves out of her system. she'll have a few hours left of grateful relief before she needs to feel... well, much of anything at all. maybe it was a little bit of mercy on behalf of the terrible people who had done this she hadn't wronged at all.

she had never been an upstart. she had never defied them or tried to speak out against them... she had not even lived a life that one might pick her out from one of the drone wives going about their daily lives, really -- caring for her children and husband and her home and smiling at her neighbors. Trisha never made waves.

in the end, it made no difference. despite that, now... she's...

...she had no idea the irony of her situation -- that she now seemed to resemble the thing her sons had created in an attempt to resurrect her from the dead after she had passed on at home. she was not so monstrous as the body without a soul -- not a bloodied mass of twisted flesh with a gaping maw and inhuman eyes... but maybe that made it worse. it was Trisha.

but twisted.

they had bent her limbs backwards in surgery, twisted them, broken fingers and toes -- she's been warped and for what reason? to what ends? what good would any of this do them... but these are thoughts for another time. for now... she has a soft furrow of confusion at her brow, and she can't seem to move, limbs heavy and aching under the fuzziness of sedation. her voice is small, for anyone who hears it. is anyone there...?

is she alone?]

...Ed...?

HEY DO YOU GUYS SEE THIS...!?

[webball]

[Peter climbs to his feet stiffly and takes a quick walk around the room, looking around and stretching his legs. The place seems fairly large... there are a few doors leading to other areas, but he can't figure out which is the exit. As he walks, he sees a woman lying under her covers, only her fearful, weary face visible. She whispers something as he passes -- was she talking to him?]

Excuse me?

[pkrincess]

[Kumatora won't make an effort to seek out any of the people she recognizes. She doesn't care. As for exploring the rooms--what did they think they'd actually find? It's a waste of time.

Kumatora stays in her bed, moving only infrequently to adopt a new position. Most of the time she has her head or part of her face buried in the pillow. At times she'll sit up, clutching her head with one hand and staring blankly out at the room. This place is disgusting. She wants to leave.

But, really, is the rest of Mayfield any better?]

[ippotsuko]

[There's no noticeable physical change in Accelerator. He's still the same grumpy, disabled albino kid on the outside.

...Well, minus the grumpy. For some reason, he's smiling as he walks about the factory--a genuinely happy smile he rarely wears.

He may even approach you and try to start a friendly conversation. Weird.]

[battymadam]

What was that, dearie?

[Madame Foster has unknowingly folded her bunny ears in on themselves, so she didn't hear his conversation starter. Her nose twitches again, unused to the big ol' mustache.]

[soveryhuman]

[ Rory's first few hours in recovery are not particularly shining moments of action and clarity. He spends them not moving from his gurney, forcing himself to doze here and there as best he can, because sleep is good, he's pretty sure, if not quite sure how he knows as much; if nothing else, it's something to do while he can't quite get his limbs to do exactly what he wants them to do, a bit of relief while the edges of pain are dulled down from his surgery. And by miracle he doesn't even throw up.

He doesn't like that he can remember the surgery and nothing else. He'd rather not think about it.

Once his head clears, though, he's quick to stumble his way out of bed, carefully walks around just to walk around, because it's something to focus on and things to focus on means less thinking about surgery or pain, and that's a win all around. He keeps a bit of a wary eye on the other inhabitants for all that he doesn't really go out of his way to avoid them, and is... kind of torn. Part of him wants to try to do something to help and part of him is saying just don't give a damn. The fact that he severely dented his gurney railing has him leaning a little more towards the latter. ]

[getgoingheroboy]

[The young Gilgamesh lay tired and weak. Vision blurry of the darkened ceiling. His limbs barely twitched as his eyes moved the most. There was that temptation to get to his feet and try to get out, but there was that cold thought of what would happen if he were to. What did they do to him? It was a fuzzy memory, but he recalled doctors... and pain.

Grunting out a cough, throat sore for some odd reason, Gil breathed a loud huff of confusion and rage.]

Who dare-?! Ghk!

[That desire to call out to those who were near was cut short by a shock of physical weakness.] Dammit! [He cursed. Breathing in once more, this time pacing his breaths and his voice, Gil spoke once more.]

Who's there?