mayfield_rpg | event: new and improved; factory day 1

[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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.

[His head swings around to face her, staring with wide, flickering optics. They take her all in, and at first, he jerks away -- too close. Too damn close. The young 'bot looks more like a frightened animal than the soldier he is.]

[Then again. He'd been trained and exposed to battle. Not this.]

[His body shudders and jerks again, and he has to rest his head down on the floor until he can get under control again. He pounds a fist into it, sick-sounding engine bubbling in a growl.]

And do... what? Do what -- about it?

[Static crackles through his vocals.]

[She knows it could be dangerous to be around what looked to her like a miniaturized mobile suit in a state of distress, but Hiling remains calm. Her curiosity is too strong to leave him alone. Sitting down on one of the beds, she perches on the edge of it.]

I'm going to find whoever did this.

[He stares.]

[And then a choking, static-y sound bubbles up from him. It's manic, almost, and definitely unhinged.]

And -- do what?

I want answers. This Doctor Johnson must be around here somewhere.

[That or at least someone who knows what's going on. She wants to get to them before someone else does.]

[All of the sudden, his optics blaze with bright, blue light. His air intakes hitch -- as if he were suddenly breathing hard.]

And do what? What will -- what will answers do you?

[She sits back a bit, then lets out a sigh.]

If we're going to make this stop, we have to know what it is we're dealing with. Then we can figure out what to do. Obviously.

[The sudden rage in his expression abruptly fades, and he returns to curling in on himself with a low whine of distress.]

Can't. Tried. Tried for...

[His voice trails off, as he tries to remember how long he'd been here. But can't. There's a gap in his memory.]

So -- for so long.

That's not good enough.

[She crosses her arms in defiance, finding it somewhat awkward with the new model. She will deny anyone telling her she can't have what she wants. One way or another, she always gets her way.]

[He laughs again, and the sound is... repetitive. As if he's stuck. Then he shakes his head, violently.]

Naive. Stupid. Doesn't work that w-

[His voice is colored with an ugly edge, unintentional, but present all the same.]

- It doesn't work that way.

[Scowling, she looks away. This is new. No one's ever had the nerve to say that to her face.]

Shut up, I am not! I'll show you.

S -- [His vocals seem to stick on the sound, stammering it out for a good thirty seconds before the rest of the word comes out.] -- Stupid.

Answers. Answers don't do anything. Don't do any...

[His body is wracked with sudden, violent shudders before he can finish.]

It's a place to start. I'm taking this whole system down even if I have to do it myself.

[She's going to be alone once she gets what she wants anyway, once she's gotten rid of those who are no longer useful.]

[He shakes his head. Several times. The motion becoming more and more uneven as he does so.]

Tried. So many. Tried to. Never works.

[His whole body jerks. He looks at her as if surprised to see someone here.]

... Who?

What? Me? [She assumes he's asking her name, and if not she's telling him anyway.]

I'm Hiling Care. Who are you? And what did they do to you anyway?

[His optics shutter, then refocus. They're dimmer than before, and it's difficult for him to see.]

Side -- Sideswipe.

[Then she asks what happens, and the uncertainty vanishes, replaced instead by a flash of frantic energy -- anger.]

I don't -- I don't know.

That's probably a good thing. Means you weren't awake for the surgery like I was. Hm, I could scan you and try to find what's wrong if you won't freak out.

[She's used her quantum brainwaves on computers and others of her kind so she wonders if it would work on him. It's worth a try.]

[His head rears back -- like a startled animal -- and he tries his best to move away from her.]

No, don't. Don't. No. Don't -- [His voice falters, the words smothered in static.]

Fine, be that way.

[She shakes her head, wondering if she's the only stable person in the room.]

[His whole body jerks, his head twitching to the side several times.]

[Then he looks at her, blinking.]

Who... who are you?

I just told you that. Wow, Dr. Johnson was not kind to you.

[It's disappointing that it seems he won't be of much use to her. She's just glad her own memories remained intact, even if she does have to remember her own surgery.]

John... That woman.

[His face twists into a snarl, and he tries to push himself up.]

I remember her.

I don't even remember how I got here. I just woke up strapped to a table and she started operating on me.

I -- I don't remember. Anything.

There must be a way to get your memory back.

event: new and improved; factory day 1

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