Introduction - [Accidental Voice]/[Action for 845 Goldberg Street]

[gavehimwings]

[Was this heaven?

It had to be heaven. All around her was warmth and softness and silence. The panicked voices of her friends and family had all faded away. If Welkin were still here, he wouldn't be quiet. He'd be telling her stories, talking about all the problems in the Edelweiss that needed fixing, going on and on about this fascinating new species of moth...

But it was quiet.

Or at least it was until a shrieking ring pierced the peace. Isara sat bolt upright with a gasp, and what she saw around her made her shriek. This wasn't the clinic. This wasn't her room. These weren't her clothes and nowhere in the base or any Gallian camp would look this...this pink!

Isara's new family will probably be alerted to her presence by a great deal of crashing, banging around, and shouting coming from the girl's room, until Isara finally comes tearing out of her room, looking about her in every direction, tense as a whipcord to attack despite the fact that she's dressed in a blue flannel nightgown with a panda bear on it She calls out in a voice that echoes in the little house.] What's going on? Where am I? Who are you and why have you captured me?!

[As she takes the corner into the living room, however, Isara collides with the table where a telephone happens to be sitting, knocking it off the receiver so that it bounces off the floor. At that point, all and sundry will be able to listen in on what, by now, is probably a very familiar scene of someone panicking, saying that what's going on can't be true, trying to wake themselves up, and the like. But the end table slows her down, at least. As Isara stumbles, wincing in pain, she's forced to slow down and take in her new surroundings.

Every detail is more horrifying than the last. That looks like her in some of those photos on the mantlepiece. Snatching one off for a closer look is enough to prove to Isara that it is her, or some kind of twisted twin. But that tall, lanky woman with the short red hair, or that boy who's always scowling or making faces...she doesn't know them! What the hell is she doing with them? She...she looks like she loves them! Like they're her family!

Glass shatters as Isara hurls a photo of her playing volleyball at the wall.] What the hell is going on here? Show yourselves! My name is Corporal Isara Gunther of the Gallian militia, serial number 66409, and I demand answers!

((ooc: And here she is! I bring you all Isara Gunther of Valkyria Chronicles. To the residents of 845, I do apologize for the mess. Isara here is just from the point of her death on Marberry Shore, and so is a bit confused and disoriented to start with, and family is a sadly hot button issue with her. Apologies as always for the TL;DR

And I am conscious! Tag at me!))

Comments

Phone

[kinship]

[The phone had rung and Cain had answered, only to hear a lot of banging and then some muffled demands.]

Excuse me? Miss?

Re: Phone

[gavehimwings]

W-What? Who said that? [Isara looked about for the source of the voice, before finally spotting the phone laying on the ground.

Feeling both irrationally guilty for knocking it off and curious who might have answered, she crossed over to it and picked it up, putting the device to her ear. She tries to muster some force back into her voice, but after her tantrum of a few seconds ago it wasn't easy.]

H-Hello? Who is this?

[kinship]

[The person on the other end is a young boy, his own tone calming and warm to try and keep her from flying off the handle again.]

My name is Cain Knightlord, try to remain calm, I promise nobody is going to harm you.

[Right now, anyway.]

[gavehimwings]

It's...[She audibly swallows, trying to keep her voice level as well now that she has found someone to speak with.] ...n-nice to meet you as well, Cain.

[She clears her throat, and seems to find some comfort in falling back on military habit.] I am Corporal Isara Gunther, of the Gallian militia. I respectfully request information about my whereabouts, the date, and my current condition. Can you tell me any of this?

[kinship]

It's nice to meet you, Corporal Gunther.

[He takes his time despite her urgency, hoping that by remaining calm then he'd show her there was nothing to fear.]

You're in a town called Mayfield, America, and the year is somewhere in the 1950s. I'm afraid, as insane as it might sound, you've been pulled here from wherever you live.

[gavehimwings]

N-Nineteen fifties?! [The alarm and the fear are suddenly back.] N-No way! I can't have been unconscious that long! What about the war? What about Welkin?!

[kinship]

Welkin and... the war, will still be waiting when you get home, I promise. When you leave, you won't remember any of this and you'll go home to when you left.

[answerer_sword]

...From that tone, I can assume that you are new here? What sort of answers do you desire?

[gavehimwings]

[...thanks to Cain, Isara at least looks to look towards the phone when a voice from nowhere addresses her.]

Where am I?

[answerer_sword]

You are currently in a town name Mayfield. It is a semi-malicious genius loci, or living location. While it pretends to be within the boundary of the United States of America, no one knows where it is truly located. What is known is that it can kidnap people from different times and universes and imprison them here. Once here, we are assigned into nuclear family units composed of a mother, a father, and several children. Your household could be composed of other sentients, or they could be "drones," mindless constructs of the town. This town also likes to pretend that it is from the decade of 1950 and expects us to behave according to the gender roles shown in stereotypes of the period. Failure to do so will get you droned by the town.

Do you have any further questions?

[gavehimwings]

[...several seconds of silence follow this recitation.]

"D-Droned"? You mean, we...become like drones? Do I have it right? And... [She glances around at the pictures, of herself, of the woman and the boy.] ...these people aren't my family.

[answerer_sword]

As long as you fulfill the minimum requirement for your role, you will be alright. If you are an adult, go to work everyday. If you are a child, go to school.

[The girl must be referring to her housemates.]

This town randomly assigns its residents into households. None of the drones that live with me are my "family" either. All the sentient beings here understand that. The town itself, however, stil considers you to be a family with these people.

[gavehimwings]

[There's really only one thing to say to that, and Isara says it.]

That's sick, and that's wrong, and I'm not going to allow it.

Action, 845 Goldberg

[lunaclaymore]

[All that noise naturally attracts Saïx's attention. He's just as confused, but dealing with it in a rather less destructive manner. He follows the noise to the living room, where he finds a girl he's never seen before.]

I have no answers for you, but I doubt breaking things will get you anywhere.

Re: Action, 845 Goldberg - Hello there! I didn't know we'd picked up a Dad!

[gavehimwings]

[Isara lets out a gasp of shock at the sight of Saix. She reaches for her hip, where her gun would normally be, and finds nothing. Biting her lip in frustration, Isara instead grabs an overlarge book off the coffee table and hefts it like a weapon as best as she can.]

W-Who are you? W-Why did you bring me here?

Action, 845 Goldberg - Yup! All shiny and new and grouchy!

[lunaclaymore]

[His eyes narrow, and he moves to a slightly defensive stance, just in case she chooses to attack.]

I was not the one who brought you here. I woke up here, just as I assume you did. I am Saïx.

Re: Action, 845 Goldberg - What a coincidence! So is she XD.

[gavehimwings]

Y-Yeah. The, the people on the phone are saying that that's...really common.

[She doesn't exactly look threatening, and she knows it, not in her blue flannel nightshirt with the panda bear on it.]

...I-I'm Isara. I think I'm...I think I'm supposed to be your daughter.

Action, 845 Goldberg - They'll get along great! XD

[lunaclaymore]

[And he's wearing striped blue pajamas, so he's not exactly the most intimidating guy around, either. He doesn't really seem to have noticed the pajamas yet, though.]

My... daughter? [He looks around them, at the pictures.] Ah. Yes, I've been told that this place sorts us into families of some kind. How odd.

You just arrived here, I gather.

Re: Action, 845 Goldberg

[gavehimwings]

So did I. But, but we just have to put up with each other. It's not like we have to like each other, or anything.

[It's heavily implied by her tone of voice that this is what Isara plans to be doing.]

...my name is Isara. Isara Gunther.

[madanomadamada]

[ Here be scowling-boy. And he's -you guessed it- scowling when he comes into the room. He raises an eyebrow. ] Serial number?

[gavehimwings]

[Surveying the living room warily, Isara has her back turned when the boy speaks. She whirls around, raising up her trusty coffee table book tos trike, and stops when she realizes that here is another kid.]

Serial number. My name, rank, and serial number are all the information I'm required to provide to the people who have captured me.

[madanomadamada]

[ What the hell? Had she just been about to attack him?

He continues to stare. ]

What the hell kinda world do you come from? People don't normally have serial numbers, y'know.

[gavehimwings]

[Yes. Yes she had. Isara was still expecting Imperial soldiers, not little kids.]

What kind of place do you come from? What kind of soldier doesn't have a serial number?

[madanomadamada]

[ Little kid? If Ryoma heard that he'd disagree to that. ]

I'm thirteen. It's illegal for me to be a soldier. I'm a tennis player, not some military-tool.

[gavehimwings]

[Isara looks genuinely startled, at this news, so much so that she almost drops her book and has to fumble to catch it.]

What? You mean you've never had any military training at all?

[She even leans forward slightly, staring at Ryoma as though he's fascinating.]</ ...what sort of place <i>do you come from?

[She, for example, comes from a country of mandatory conscription, and the youngest soldier in Squad 7 is twelve.]