mayfield_rpg | (no subject)

[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 30th, the following characters will be brought to the factory following their operations:

Rikku
Belphegor
Ilsa Higa
Terezi Pyrope
Equius Zahaak
Yukihina
Blue
Ivo Robotnik
Signless
Ichirin Kumoi
Bazett McRemitz
The Captain
Canada
Gamzee Makara
Poland
Hiccup
Dizzy
Mesousa
Flandre Scarlet
Haruhi Suzumiya

[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

[Ichirin is sitting by the wall, holding her head in her hands. She saw everything, was aware of everything. She couldn't feel it, but that almost made it worse, like it had never happened, and it was all just a dream, and maybe, just maybe if she pinched herself she'd wake up.

But no.

There's no waking up from this.

She lifts her head and scans the room, just once, before putting her head back in her hands and shuddering. She's already starting to feel the effects of her surgery - after a few moments, she looks up again, eyes darting nervously back and forth between a few people.

A great misery wells up inside her as she again forces her gaze toward the floor. She writes it off as despair over the situation, at first. She'll soon discover it's so much more than that.]

Hey.

Hey, why are you so sad?

[Poor girl's personal space is immediately invaded by a pale boy with candycorn goat horns cuddling up against her side. A hand grabs her chin to turn her face to his, and then he will gaze into her eyes as if her sadness is the worst thing he could ever imagine.]

[To her credit, Ichirin doesn't scream at the intrusion. She squeaks, but does not scream.

What she does do is jerk her head away from his hand and stare, a panicked expression on her face.]

Why shouldn't I be? I'm being - watched, and...I have to find out who's watching me.

[Her gaze suddenly turns accusatory.]

It's you, isn't it.

[He just blinks in confusion as she jerks away from him, just a little bit of his expression falling] Oh.

[Strangely, the accusation perks him right back up again]

I like watching things, yes. I watch all the things. All of them.

Why? Why are you watching me? Someone as...as completely worthless as I am...

[Looks like the depression is beating out the paranoia for now, though that suspicious look has yet to leave her eyes. Her hand flexes into a fist for just a few seconds before loosening again.]

[That's a good question. Why is he watching her? It's really kind of just a thing he does. But she seems to want a specific answer, so he chews on his lip for a bit, looking her over]

....because you are pretty.

[yeah, that sounds like a good answer]

[Her face flushes red for just a moment. She's not used to being called pretty...

But it's almost immediately replaced with a dejected expression.]

It's okay. You don't have to lie to me like that. I'm not really pretty.

No, I mean it! [There's so much earnestness in his voice] Especially your hair! It's the most exquisite color in existence. Like a lighter shade of my blood! [Which he has to show her by pulling up his shirt to expose the long, purple-black scars running over his abdomen] It is my favorite color of them all.

Ah...

[Ichirin's used to dealing with non-human entities, but even then most of them have red blood. It's a little jarring - more than a little jarring, in her addled mind - to see such a strangely-colored scar.]

What are you?

[Normally she wouldn't bother asking. Normally she wouldn't even care. But Ichirin's condition is far from normal, and all she can think of is that this...this youkai, he can't be anything else with blood and horns like that - has been sent to kill her.

Her, even though she's dedicated all her time to bettering the lives of youkai in Gensokyo.]

A troll~ [he smiles, giving his hair a little toss] On the inside, anyway, thanks to that... operation. Still human on the outside... [siiiigh]

I'm...still a human too, even on the inside.

[Her voice is overly cautious, as though she's trying to keep the conversation going without attracting any suspicion.

Furthermore, while it normally doesn't upset her too much that she's still a human, there is some disappointment to her tone; at the moment, not being a youkai is just another thing to be depressed about.]