[Ah, another death, another day to yet again rise! That had been the Major's motto since arriving in Mayfield.

Which is why it was so hard to explain why he was so goddamn angry at finding himself back in the town. The sense of wanting to destroy, to crush something....that wasn't new. That was a feeling he always had, the simple joy of causing the echoing destruction of something, no matter how big or small. But it was overwhelming now. The practiced patience he had learned in order to keep it under control had waned, had been chiseled away and was somehow gone in the time of his death and returned. His desire for destruction, for something, was hungry. And with a vengeance.

But the anger. The anger. That he never had a problem with, and even the angriest moments he had he could quell with great ease. But this, right now...why wouldn't it let up. This was new, and alarming in how unable he was to keep his emotions in check. The he couldn't quell them, couldn't control them....he hated to show it, but in the deepest pits of his stomach, he could feel a small knot forming. He could feel a small crack of fear.

The anger made him scared. The fear made him angry.

He paused for a moment beside his bed, starring at the walls. The ceiling. The floor. He felt, for a moment, that he couldn't walk. That to do so would invite some incomprehensible disaster that he did not yet comprehend. So he sat there for a moment. And then noticed the bedside lamp.

In a few seconds, the lamp would make friends with the floor, shattering into pieces as they met one another, the Major glowering down at it.]

[Phone]

[Hey everyone. Look whose back. And look who doesn't sound anything like himself. The sicking false sweetness that usually pervaded his voice is gone, replaced by a simple, straight, cutting voice, barely concealing the anger underneath it. Doing only a slightly better job concealing the fear.]

My. What a treat, to wake up and realize that this place, which had once been such a wonderful battle ground has somehow been vandalized. Has been compromised in what it is supposed to be.

I demand an accounting. What have you people done to my reward?

[Phone - Filtered to KINGDOM members and Schro and Rip]

Report. Now.

Tell me everything that has transpired, lack no detail no matter how great or small.

[Action - 1667 Nelson]

[Hey housemates. Feel free to hear some of the carnage issuing in from some of the other rooms as "dad" goes about trying to relieve his desire for destruction and violence.

The dishes in the kitchen? Destroyed, shattered around the floor. The windows too, one of which still has one of the chairs embedded in it. At the moment, the Major is busy in the front room, having just kicked in the screen to the television.

He's frowning. No. Simply violence isn't doing the trick. It never does. But it was worth a shot. And for the moment, he'll continue on it.]

[Action - Around Town]

[Small scale vandalism didn't work. Perhaps large scale vandalism will.

The Major, still dressed in his police uniform, blood-speckled from his death at Integra's hands, is on his beat regardless of his feelings. However, unlike his usual, cheery self, he's a little more...dour. His bill is pulled down a ways, trying to obscure his face, and on occasion, he brings his billy club up to strike the nearest window, shattering it.

If you're particularly unlucky, he might swing the club at you.]

[Phone]

[Early in the morning of the 30th, pick up the phone, and you'll hear the Psiioniic's breath, ragged and desperate. His voice is no better; he's clearly spent quite a bit of his time shouting.]

[Every day since this whole mess has happened, he's made sure to check on his friends, to make sure they're alright. Signless and Disciple are some of the most important people in his life, and knowing what happens in the future... after what happened to Milla because he was careless... He doesn't want to fail again.]

[It happens anyway.]

[The rage and despair in his voice could tear him apart if it were physical.]

They fucking took him.

[His voice shakes. He doesn't explain further.]

[Action]

[Almost immediately after that little announcement, anyone loitering near the factory will notice one figure in particular making run after run against it.]

[The Psiioniic doesn't have his troll body back. He doesn't have anything. Certainly nothing to get him past the electrified barrier protecting the factory, and each attempt shocks him backwards, body smashing against the ground and rolling until he lays there for a few minutes, a twitching mess.]

[Each failed attempt, he gets back onto his feet. Each time, it's more unsteady than the last.]

[Unlike his earlier phone call, the expression on his face isn't angry. It's just pure focused concentration...]

[And if you can see his cheeks shining as if there's something wet there, well, pay it no mind.]




[ooc: edit trigger warning for self harm in the Condesce thread]

[ Action : 340 Brady Lane ]
( Cut for blood )

[ Phone : Afternoon ]
[ Meiling doesn't bother to filter this. She's too... scattered, still. She's cleaned up and bandaged up but it is taking all of her energy to keep her body in the state it's in. She sounds sleepy. Strained. ] Sakuya? I'm... do you remember that dream we talked about? I'mmmmm... having it again. [ Hopefully her friend will understand that vague message. She doesn't want to worry others. No. Maybe she can still fix this... ]

Everyone.... else, I hope you're okay. I'll come if you need me to come but I'm also staying inside for... for a while.

[Nova, at the behest of KINGDOM and The Major has some very big experiments in mind for their upcoming plans. But to experiment, first he needs guinea pigs, and since so many people are already being experimented upon, why not find some now!]

[Phone]

I realize we are in some tough times right now, the town abducting people and subjecting them to such horror... so I would like to offer my services as a doctor, nanosurgeon, and chef that anyone who comes to 461 Stone Street will be given immediate medical attention and free flan!

[Action, in front of 461 Stone Street]

[Nova has his flan table set up again. But this flan, aside from being delicious is also laced with a powerful knockout drug. Eat if you want, if you are drugged...]

[Action, 461 Stone Street Basement]

[Nova has made a makeshift laboratory in the basement with his Nanites and Vampiric Chip that his dear friend The Major gave him. If drugged or if you volunteer, you'll be a part of the next phase of Nova's experiments for KINGDOM]

(OOC: Give permission as to whether or not you want your character drugged or experimented upon and what you want to happen to said character if so. With the nanites Nova can heal a character of wounds and physical ailments and with the chip he can transform a character into a vampire by implanting it into the brain and granting them extraordinary abilities such as super strength, speed, regeneration, sharp teeth, and a thirst for blood. Jsut ask if you have any additional questions!)

†01「Outside Mayfield Hospital: Morning of January 30th」

[Released from the hospital, possessions returned, and external injuries healed: Rin looked fairly well put-together for a still healing patient. After spending a day in the recovery ward of the less than sanitary building Rin had learned that...

Well, he learned that he knew nothing, and that scared him. Rin knew he didn't want to be back inside, but out on the streets he wasn't sure where he was supposed to go. What he was supposed to do, or how he was supposed to figure out what had happened before yesterday.]

Hey, you-! [Spoken to any passerby that came close enough to him. There were too many questions he didn't have answers to, but he could at least start with the first few.]

Do you know anything about-well-wherever we are?

[Someone should probably go help him... Since he has no idea that he has a home, and most importantly has no idea where it is.]

†02「Streets of Mayfield-->Grocery Store, afternoon」

[ After being taken home, or wherever: Rin soon found himself a little too antsy and uncertain to stay in one place. So after some time, one way or another, he's left the building and has wandered around Mayfield enough to find himself at the local grocery store.

He isn't exactly looking for anything, but he is going up and down the isles trying to remember if he recognizes any of the foods on the shelves. Unlike every other day, Rin has his tail left out in the open for the world to see as he wanders the store. It's not hard to tell that he seems to be in some sort of pain. He will be squinting his eyes and shying away from anything too bright or loud. After a little while he'll end up grabbing onto the shelf to support himself because of it. Feel free to go up and bother him.]

†03「Phone: later in the afternoon」

...How do I even work this thing.

†04「337 Brady Lane」

[He's wandering around inside the home like it's some sort of fun house. Everything is new and nothing makes sense and dear lord does he really have to stay here. Rin's exploration won't last long once he's in the front yard as yet another head ache hits him. He'll try to ignore it at first, and probably will end up looking like he's glaring at whomever walks by.]

[ o1 | PHONE ]

That... woman- no, that monster scrapped Sideswipe for parts. He's barely hanging on as it is.

[ There's kind of a quiet anger beneath the surface of Jolt's voice, which is strained as it is. It's... weird for him, to say the least, but he's truly and genuinely mad, and scared as hell. He's not doing a very good job at hiding it. ]

I need help. If anyone knows what she might have done with the pieces, please, I'll do anything. I can keep him alive, but--- but I don't have the tech to repair him. Not completely. Everything here is so--- I need Cybertronian parts, not car parts.

[ There's a pause, as he considers making a separate phone call, but clearly decides not to since he continues speaking ]

Quinn, if you're still out there, I have a particular favor to ask you. I don't... even know if you can do this, but my scans just aren't as comprehensive as Ratchet's would be. Can you... maybe run some kind of diagnostic? The damage is so severe, I don't think I have the full scope of it yet.

I'm going to need all the help I can get on this one. I'm not going to let him die.

I made a promise.


[ o2 | ACTION | AROUND TOWN ]

[ Jolt can be found tromping around town, rifling through dumpsters, tearing apart parked cars for parts. He does so with very little regard for his surroundings- he's not so careless as to step on someone, mind, but he's not really paying attention beyond that.

Call it a case of tunnel vision, if you will, since he doesn't even make an effort to transform back into his vehicle mode. Enjoy your giant robot, Mayfield. ]


[ o3 | ACTION | 5718 CUNNINGHAM LANE ]

[ Jolt didn't dare move Sideswipe from the driveway where he'd first fallen. The silver body lay deathly still amongst a mess of wires and several car batteries, all connected to nearby power lines in a makeshift life-support system. Yes, he's alive. Simply in stasis.

He carefully moves around his patient, trying to repair what his miniscule tools and supplies will allow him to. It's not going well. ]

[Action; 747 Partridge Drive]

[It seems that, after days of surviving the effects of the event, Lyon's luck has finally run out.  Sometime in the middle of the night, her old wound from being struck down by Miakis at Christmas opened up.  With such a deep cut and almost no time to wake up and react, she bled out and died rather quickly.  The next morning, she quickly sits up in bed, looking around the room for a few moments before noticing the blood on the sheets and the remnants of the wound from her incomplete revival.  Dipping her fingers into the gash, she regards her own blood with a blank stare and a smile for several seconds, and then seals the wound shut with a quick application of the Shield Rune.

After she's gotten dressed, housemates will find Lyon carrying the bloodied sheets and her night clothes down to the laundry room.  Disturbingly, she seems to be wearing a rather relaxed looking smile as she goes along.]

[Phone; unfiltered]

[After a short and utterly impersonal conversation with Miakis' drone, Lyon takes to the phones.  Anyone who's spoken with her before will certainly recognize the voice, but it's utterly devoid of any sort of emotion or vocal inflection.  And there's also one other interesting change...]

Hello.  My name is Mismar.  I understand that I've been transported to a place called Mayfield.  If any of you have any information on this place, how I arrived here, or how to return, please share it now.  I have duties to which I must return, and I can't waste time in a place like this.

[Action; around town]

[Later on, 'Mismar' is walking around town trying to get her bearings.  As far as she knows, this is the first time she's been here.  Her memory is a little fuzzy, but she's relatively sure of that much.  In reality, the incomplete droning process has left her with partial amnesia starting from before Ferid rescued her from Nether Gate.  Her own mind has filled in the gaps, and Lyon currently believes that she is Mismar, emotionless Nether Gate assassin.  Anyone who notices her walking along will see her smiling serenely, expression utterly unchanging.  In this state, a pleasant conversation and a quick and painless death are emotionally and morally no different from one another to her, so anyone who provokes her into combat should be prepared for a cold-hearted trained assassin bearing down upon them in fairly short order.]

[Outside of the hospital]

[Ema comes to consciousness slowly, slumped up against the hospital's external wall. The fact that she's awake at all comes as a surprise, given that she's pretty sure she recently died in Edward's arms from months-old injuries. Has the regeneration system been put back into place?

If it has, it's still broken. She feels cold. Her wounds seem to have healed over, but the bullet wound in her forehead is still scabbed over. She's pale and almost lacks the energy to even follow through with simple actions that she wants to do. When she finally brings herself to check her pulse, she finds that it's weak and slow. Low blood pressure. Slowly-beating heart.

Scientifically speaking, then, she's only barely alive. And currently lacks the strength to pick herself up from the ground and walk home.

She's going to need some help. Unable to do much more than occasionally call out to nearby people ('Help?'), there's nothing much she can do except wait for it to come.]



[1492 Kramden; Phone]

[Somehow, Ema's made it home. She forces herself to take to the phone instead of falling asleep on the first horizontal surface she finds.

Her voice is quieter than usual, but it's unmistakably her.]

Things are really messed up, aren't they?

I just want to let people know that I'm all right. I'm alive again after... whatever restored me. But I'm weak, so I'm not going to push my luck. If anyone has new information that's come to light in the past few days, please share it with me. I was dead for awhile.

[A pause.]

Everyone? Scout? Sideswipe? Ai? Nina?

...Edward?

Please tell me you're all right.

[A - The Factory]

[It's been twenty-four hours since the Signless was taken to the factory. It's been the longest, most painful twenty-four hours of his life, every detail of the surgery and the aftermath clear in his mind. He looks exhausted as he walks out of the open gate, even more so than usual. Along with still wearing the rumpled, now slightly bloody clothes he was taken in he's had a few...modifications done in the past day.

The most noticeable are the rotting fins attached to his face and the gills on his neck. Well, not so much attached as stapled to his skin. There's another set of gills under his shirt, spread across the sides of his ribs, there the small blood stains seem to be coming from. Tyrian purple stains.

That's right. In a single day he's gone from a null blood, a mutant freak to be culled on sight, to the highest color on the hemospectrum. He's technically goddamn royalty now and it. Is. Terrifying.

He should really get home, contact Psiioniic and Disciple, check in on Karkat, let them all know he's okay. Well, alive. But normal breathing is still near impossible and the sharp stabs of pain he keeps feeling in his chest aren't helping. He flops down onto the ground, just far enough away from the electrified fence not to get shocked, and pulls one of his knees into his chest.

He's tired. He's so damn tired, his body feels dry and itchy and wrong and the whispering voices in his head are getting louder and more persistent. He tilts his head forward to rest his forehead against his knee, closing his eyes. He'll just rest a few minutes then he'll go. Just a few minutes and hope no one he knows sees.]

[B - Phone]

[Signless's voice is barely above a whisper but the panic in his tone speaks louder than his volume.]

Everyone, this is the Signless. Humans, trolls, every other species in Mayfield, you need to stay away from me. Far, far away from me please. Your lives depend on it. They took me to the factory and they did something to me, to my blood...

If you see me out on the street run and run fast. If I'm out it means something is wrong and I can't guarantee I won't- [His voice cracks.] I can't guarantee I won't hurt you or worse just by being near you.

[I don't want to kill anyone else.]

[C - Locked to 945 Beulah Street]

[All the salt in the house is missing. Every container in the pantry, even the salt shaker. The bathroom door is also locked tight, the sound of running water coming from behind the door. It must have been running for a while because there's a large pool of water coming from under the door and the carpet is soaking wet.

A note is taped to the door, hastily scribbled in pencil and stuck to the poor with a bit of tape. 'PLEASE DON'T TRY TO COME IN. STAY AS FAR AWAY AS YOU CAN. I DON'T WANT TO HURT ANY OF YOU.']




[ooc: Signless has been released from the factory with some nasty side effects. Please let me know if you want his psychic powers to accidentally kill/injure your character.]

[Action - Outside hospital, inside the front of the hospital, and all around town - Backdated to January 29th]

[After spending the 28th trapped in the factory no matter how much she tried to escape, Chell was finally set free and found herself unexplainably in front of the hospital upon leaving the Factory on the 29th.

Her time in the Factory was marked by a drastic change, she didn't know how it happened, but Chell had woken up in a vastly different body. Instead of being a human, she was now a somewhat sturdier robot. Her new form is plain white and the only distinguishable features are the eyes. If someone had met Chell before, the only way they could tell that this robot was her would be her body language and the way she walks.

Even though the robot body has no mouth, there's a voicebox that will allow her to speak if she chooses. However, the robotic voice will not sound anything like her original one.

She doesn't seem too upset about her situation and she'd be frustrated about that, if she could fully feel emotions.

Even so, Chell knows this isn't normal and is going to resume her quest to figure out what exactly happened to her and how she can reverse it.

Her first act back in town is going to be to turn around and look back in the hospital. Once she sees that this isn't the Factory, she's going to exit and start wandering the town, looking for the mysterious building where her transformation took place.]

[ Action : 840 Hastings Blvd. : Something after this thread ]
[ There is nothing out of place about two kids sitting in the living room and watching TV. They are even behaving just as proper children should, sitting on different surfaces - the boy is laying on the couch and the girl is seated in a chair from the kitchen!

There is no reason to suspect that the silence between them has anything to do with the fact that he's trying to sleep off a massive headache, and that she is unconscious from the blow that has left her cheek marred with dirt. That is not the imprint of a set of knuckles there, no sir.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with the bandages wrapped around his left arm or the jump-rope used to tie the girl to the seat she's in.

Nothing at all to see here, folks. Move along... ]

((OOC: Expect Touma and Nia (when awake) in these threads. Tag order is in set after the first round unless you say otherwise!))

---

[ Phone : Even later ]
How can you tell if someone else's jaw is broken? [ Just a question. Don't read into it. ]

And, if it is, what do you do with it? Is there even a brace for that...

[A. action | mayfield hospital]

[The sight of the day's patients being dumped outside the hospital should be a familiar one by now. Gamzee, at first glance, seems to have gotten away relatively lightly; while his characteristic orange goat horns are gone and he's bleeding from where several chunks of flesh have been ripped away from his arms, at least there aren't any hideous modifications or crippling disfigurements to be seen. He's pacing unusually agitatedly for anyone who's familiar with the usually cheerful and laidback troll, but he doesn't seem to be violent or psychopathic, which for both Gamzee and Mayfield is a pretty good result overall.

Then he brings up the palm of his right hand, sinks his fangs into it, tears the flesh off, chews and swallows, and it suddenly becomes horrifyingly clear that he may have just undergone the worst surgery of all.]

[B. phone; public]

[Once Karkat has gotten Gamzee back to his hive, he has really only one goal-- to prevent Gamzee from hurting himself by any means necessary. The first priority is to secure him so he won't be able to bite his hands anymore, and the second is to distract him by any means necessary.]

Okay, don't waste my time because this is important. Do any of you pieces of shit know the best way to strap someone to a slumber platform?

[There's a wet sound of suction before Gamzee's voice speaks up in the background.] Uhhhh...you really think that's all being necessary, bro?

Stop that. Get that out of your mouth right fucking now. ...Right, okay, so the slumber platform. What do I use, belts? Manacles? Which is the human store that sells manacles?

But it tastes motherfuckin' delish, yo. Can't I all be just having a lick or two?

Now. All right, anyway, I'm turning the audio hook over to this deranged idiot so he can get on someone else's nerves, but tell me if you know something about the manacle situation.

[There's a long pause before Gamzee picks up the phone again, sounding a little nervous.] So uhhh...if any motherfucker out there all been tied to a slumber platform before, what do I do if I gotta run to the load gaper?

[OOC: If you're picking the second option, Karkat will only be jumping into threads that are directly relevant to him, although he may interrupt any of Gamzee's threads!]

Action: A
[It's a deceptively pleasant afternoon. The weather is cool just enough for a stroll, and robins are chirping in the background. And there's a flowerbed. There's not much in it, but it extends from the porch outward toward the curb.

But if you get too close to the freshly planted bulbs and bushes you'll have a piercing shot with a near terrifying accuracy--or close to it. It's mostly a warning shot. Or is it?

Action: B

[You're going about your errands, work, walks, what have you. Perhaps peacefully, perhaps groggily considering the latest event. Don't mind a speeding motorbike skidding impatiently at red lights, short of running poodles over.]

Phone

Haha... Ahaha. [A choked sob, followed by a shaky breath.] I knew it would happen. I knew it.

[OOC: As an after effect of the surgery, Hungary's hair has gone completely white. Her brain was modified to induce extremely violent tendencies.]

Action A| Around 1449 Mitchell Road | Back-dated to the 24th
( So what has Gumshoe been up to? )
Action B | Downtown | Present

[Gumshoe is definitely looking worse for wear, patches of skin having rotted off in the last few days. Not to mention the smell, which has seemed to attract a few flies now. Of course, you might not notice this at first as he's desperately digging through a snowbank along the sidewalk, muttering to himself.]

Come on, come on! They gotta be around here, somewhere! I just had them!

[Seems like he's searching for something, feel like helping a poor zombie just trying to make it through the day?]

[Action - January 30th, Morning - Leaving Factory, Around Mayfield]

( Cut for organs and general yuck )

[Phone - Afternoon/Evening]

[Somehow, he had made his way home. And a very, very exhausted Picky Minch dials out to the town.]

How many... how many of us made it home? You know what I mean. The ones... the ones who were in there. Who got changed. Did everyone get help?

[There's a pause, where he seems to be catching his breath.]

Anyone... anyone that's healthy enough... you've gotta help them. Some of them are hurt really bad. Please? Help get them home, at least.... maybe they're still out there....

[Phone - Call to 502 Ricardo]

P-Pokey? Is Pokey there? I gotta... I gotta talk to him, he's probably worried, I'm really sorry, is... is he?

[ Forward dated to after the patient release on the morning of 31 January. ]

[ She was routed out of her hiding spot in the supply room linen closet to be shoved out of the doors of the factory with the rest of the patients, this morning. Ilsa's change is apparent immediately. Instead of sticking around to help organize everyone getting back to their assigned houses - she runs. ]

[ Quickly as she can, she’s darted for the scant cover around the factory, making her way to town. Those looking for her at 1490 Kramden Road are going to be disappointed, though. She’s told everyone new that she’s met how to get there, and she doesn’t trust the safety of the location any longer. ]

[ Over the next few days, you may catch a glimpse of her, hiding in the shadows around town. She’s somehow managed to obtain a more practical Mayfield-standard outfit from somewhere, but she does not appear for long. ]

[ Maybe you see a glimpse of her in the alley behind your workplace, or catch her just as she’s leaving your garage, where she slept in your car last night (It’s still January, you know.) Do you give chase? Do you try to reason with her? Do you try to catch her? ]

[ OOC: Ilsa has some personality changes and has not lost any of her abilities. There might be a chance she can logically think about the changes Dr Johnson has made, and reject them - but with the level of fear and paranoia she’s experiencing, it is not likely. Cornering her will likely cause her to lash out, and she still has some combative skills and spells. ]

[Guess who has been having nightmares so severe they’ve been scaring the goddamn Scarecrow and thus hasn’t slept since his revival.

Guess.

Because he’s tired and cranky and when Crane is cranky he wants to make everyone around him as miserable as possible and he does this by being a freaky motherfucker.

For your enjoyment, a phone call:]

You wake up in a box, pine wood and lined with silk, but you can’t remember how you got there. It’s dark, too dark to see anything around you, but you can hear a rain of dirt above you, feel the heaviness of the Earth swallowing you up. You’ll wear your nails down to the quick and lose your voice from screaming, and you’ll run out of tears long before you run out of air. If they ever bother to dig your coffin up, they’ll find your skeleton twisted in absolute terror.

Thanatophobia. The fear of death.

It’s not that people are afraid of death itself, really. It’s much like the fear of heights; people are more afraid of the fall and subsequent sudden stop at the end than the altitude on its own. With death, what we truly fear is the unknown. Even the most truly devout always has one niggling doubt in the back of their mind, that everything they’ve been taught is a wicked lie. As a man of an advanced age and lacking morality, I’ve often wondered about it myself. What will happen when I, personally, die? Popular opinion seems to be that I’ll go to Hell, and I have been missing my dear old grandmother lately. And yet, that’s only one option, one opinion in a vast sea of speculation. Perhaps reincarnation is the true way. I’d like to come back as a crow, personally. Such majestic creatures.

Or, perhaps, it’s this. Simply, this.

I’m sure Mayfield has been called similar things in the past. Purgatory. Hell. Humans have such an amusing compulsion to apply familiar concepts to foreign ones. Mayfield is a special case, much worse than anything the average mind could comprehend.

But, for lack of a better word, I believe Hell will suffice.