event: break, day 5

[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 31st, the following characters will be brought to the factory following their operations:


Nall
Teitoku Kakine
Seychelles
Ambrosia Gray
Chandra Nalaar
Arcueid
Dist
Conan
The Doctor
Charles Fei-Ong
RED Sniper
Panty
Tachikoma
Dexter
Hol Horse
Emmett Brown
Lion Ushiromiya
Sephiroth
Teddie
Elizabeth



[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

Placeholder 'cause I need to get to bed...;_;

[suchaprettybear]

[Teddie is groggy, confused, and curled up in a chair in the corner of the room. He's glancing around the room suspiciously. One of these people is probably behind everything that happened to him. Heck, maybe they're all in on it....]

[action - recovery]

[buildstherobots]

[Oh, breathing hurts. It hurts so much.

It's been hurting for hours, to be fair. It's only just now that he's able to start moving, though it's completely uncoordinated at first; rather than gracefully sitting up and getting out of the bed, he flops over onto the floor, then makes a pained noise. He doesn't even have hands any more so getting out of this is going to be frustrating.

At least he smells amazing. Cold comfort.]

[catslooklikeme]

[It hurts. It hurts so much…

Nall woke up groggy, as if he’s spent a night out drinking with Kyle, ages ago… He was in a strange place he didn’t recognize and it hurts… He’d tried pushing through the pain and disorientation. Had to find out where he was… had to figure out how to leave. But he’d tried to stretch his wings to fly and found… found…

They were gone. His wings… They’d taken his wings.

He’d tried to wobbily rise to his feet, only to slump over onto his side… a glance towards his posterior revealed that his wings weren’t all that had been taken. His back paws had been gone as well… he was… he was mutilated. Oh goddess…

IT HURTS.

Tears come and Nall doesn’t have the strength to squelch them. This is a nightmare… it has to be. Can’t be real… how can he go on if he can’t even be mobile? It can’t be real. He must be dreaming… he’ll wake up and find himself on the couch, like always… He’d go see Alex and Nash and Ilsa and Tarvek…

Oh goddess, it hurts so bad…

He lays where he was dumped, crying helplessly, trying to make his brain cells fire correctly so he can THINK.]

Alex… Nash… chaos…

[godcomplexed]

[The Doctor is stumbling out of his bed. After dying from his rebounded, he has nightmares about being trapped in the dark void of nothingness that keep him from sleep. And now he has a new reason not to rest. He's searching for someone. People. They traveled together... yes... no... who are they? He can't recall. He just know that he misses them deeply.

But he can barely move. His surgery wounds bleed and he's covered in blood from previous injurious. But his friends...

Friends he used to have. He had friends once, didn't he? ]

[outlandished]

[ Okay, so this? This was different than having a rum hangover. At least those she knew where she passed out for the night (however many drinks she had is another story altogether.) In fact, she was sure she saw at least something being injected into her. Something...liquidy, but she wasn't sure what it was. Whatever it was, though, smelled fishy and it just wasn't the ocean alone.

Even with how hard it is to string together a coherent thought together, she has to try to get to the bottom of this and figure it all out. Maybe there would be a familiar face around here after all...

However, that didn't yield anything. Though, it never hurt to actually try to help out. ]

'e-ey, anyone awake yet? We've gotta try t' find a way out of here.

[ Because, even though she was messed with, she's not going to back down or let Mayfield win. ]

[ !Action ]

[1_truth]

[ Conan can't remember much at the moment- his brain feels fuzzy a-and... there more but-... he let's out a groan and sinks back into a deep sleep. He doesn't know about the extreme change his body's undergone... again. Though right now he doesn't even remember the initial change that turned him into a child. ]

[ His skin is now wrinkly and it looks like 'the cure' to his small problem over shot it about ninety years. ]

[buildstherobots]

[Maybe. Maybe not. Looks like he's being called to help someone out, though.

"Being called" in the sense that there's a person about two beds away trying to get his attention. Dist is still slumped down on the floor, but he's managed to overcome the stiffness enough to begin to maybe sort of sit up a little bit.]

Hey... you! Help me!

Recovery

[silver_soldier]

[Pain fills the world.

Sephiroth feels it before he's even fully awake; every beat of his pulse seems like it's splitting his skull open. It's a pain beyond any he can remember experiencing - worse than the mako injections upon his induction to SOLDIER, worse than any of Hojo's experiments, worse than any battlefield injury. Pressure with no possible way of relieving it.

He's not quite fully functional yet, not violent yet, but he will be in short order. For now he's merely sitting up in his bed, hands clutching his temples.]

[silver_soldier]

[Sephiroth is momentarily distracted from his own agonies - and that's almost a relief, just thinking about the pain less - by the sound of someone thumping to the floor nearby. He glances over...

Does that man have roses for hands?]

[silver_soldier]

[Sephiroth's voice is a low, pained rasp, but at least he answers.] Where is here...?

[Hojo and the scientists had done their jobs well. Even in his extremes, Sephiroth's mind works coolly, logically, and figuring that out seems to be one of the more important issues at hand.]

[buildstherobots]

[Obviously that is the most pressing matter in this situation. Yes, yes he does have roses for hands.

They seem to be about as useful as regular roses, though, because eventually when Dist does manage to roll over from his faceplant he uses his elbows for support instead. It's rather short-lived; once he's on his back he just stares at the ceiling. This is a much more dignified position to be in, somehow.]

[outlandished]

[ A voice. That's good. At least it doesn't feel as quiet as it's supposed to be. So, she gives a little smile to Sephiroth - having no intentions other than to try to at least be reassuring. ]

Last I checked, we were still in Mayfield, mate. Dunno where we are exactly, but I figure that's enough t' work on, aye?

[ She pauses and lets out a small chuckle, shaking her head a little as she turns her attention to him once more. ]

However, I'm not too keen on stayin' here fer long. They can't just keep us here like vermin.

[catslooklikeme]

[A small voice responds to the query, the voice breaking mid-sentence to gasp for air. Seems to be coming from the small cat slumped over on the floor.]

Who, who's there?

[encored]

[sitting upright suddenly, Charles realises with some amount of surprise that he can hardly think of anything that surpasses the cruelty of what he had just experienced. he hadn't been trying so hard to avoid her just for this to happen, just to watch everything he'd watched, just to be stuck beside her drone in such a horrific situation, but here he is.

eventually he uncurls himself and shuffles from the gurney, feeling sick to his stomach with pain but looking blank-faced, haunted by the past few hours. perhaps he'll bump into you or your gurney; he isn't exactly paying attention to where he's going right now.]

[silver_soldier]

If they can trap us like rats, and experiment on us like rats, they can keep us penned up like rats. [It's not a particularly encouraging sentiment, but Sephiroth's always been a realist. And he feels...unusually short-tempered. The hammering pain in his head probably has something or everything to do with that.]

[silver_soldier]

[Sephiroth is watching the man, if only because having something to watch while he suffers is a minor improvement at staring into the blackness behind his eyelids while he suffers. Eventually, he speaks.] What did they do to you?

[buildstherobots]

[Dist would have jumped at the voice if he had the energy or ability to.]

Cut my hands off. Injected me with something... I can barely move.

[Indeed, when he turns his head to look at the speaker, his motion is jerky, like he just instigated it and let gravity do the rest of the work herself.]

[encored]

[he watches the Doctor struggle with a bizarre sort of passiveness for a moment, but eventually shuffles over in his direction, muscles tight with a severe pain that makes motion difficult for him as well.

when he reaches the Doctor's side, he silently reaches out to touch his shoulder as if testing to see whether or not he's really there.]

[silver_soldier]

[There's an animal on the floor near his bed. Even in exquisite pain, Sephiroth keeps tabs on his surroundings, particularly unknown wildlife. Small, non-threatening, obviously injured - it bore some resemblance to a cat, but between some obvious oddities and its mutilation he can't swear to it.

Besides, it seems to be...crying. Not crying as in merely making a noise, but crying in the sense of pain and tears. No cat Sephiroth's ever heard of does that.

Gingerly, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, standing up slowly - the sheer amount of throbbing pressure in his head makes him feel somewhat lightheaded. Or is that the effects of whatever drug he must have been given? Impossible to say. But once he's steady on his feet, he moves over to the animal, picking it up from the floor - in a careful grip, one hand on the back of its neck and the other supporting its body, both hands out of possible bite range - and lifting it to face level to examine it.

Have they started tormenting even the animals now?]

[silver_soldier]

Then you should lie still. [It almost comes off as a command, though Sephiroth doesn't consciously mean it as one, but to him it seems like common sense. Between blood loss and whatever the man's been injected with, trying to move around is ludicrous.

...though to be honest, Sephiroth knows he should be giving more thought to what's been done to him. He honestly isn't sure, save for the pounding of his head; certainly there are no obvious changes, as all his limbs seem to be where they belong and in the shape he's accustomed to.]

[buildstherobots]

They could come back at any time. Staying here means staying in their hands; I don't know what else they're planning.

[He does stay still, though, breathing deep, since that's about the only thing he can do. Breathe and talk. One is way more annoying than the other.]

[silver_soldier]

In this state...you can't oppose them. Or escape. You may as well focus on recovery.

[Sephiroth takes a more critical personal inventory of himself. The pain in his head is vicious, but it seems to be the only source of pain. So he's relatively uninjured...and he thinks that he may be functional enough to fight, should the need arise. He's in agony unmatched by anything he can remember, but he knows if it's necessary, and adrenaline kicks in...he's been fighting for too long. If the need is there, somehow he'll find the ability.]

If they come back, I'll deal with them. [And the surge of fury in him as he says this, the thought of attacking the people responsible, breaking them - it's unusual, and it feels somehow immensely satisfying, and it almost seems to dull the pain. It also gives his voice an edge like a knife.]

[the_firebrand]

[It sure was nice of them to give the patients a fire to warm themselves with. It's just too bad that it's in one of the beds.

... except there's a vague groaning coming from the fire. Upon closer inspection, it seems that there is someone in the fire, a certain redhead. She's a bit groggy and out of it, but she doesn't seem to be in any pain.

Which is strange, given that she is the center of a blazing inferno. Care to approach?]

[buildstherobots]

[Dist makes a resigned noise; as much as he'd rather try and tear the place down, he's also hurting and can't really control his body yet. Instead he focuses his attention on his hands, or rather the flowers that they've been replaced with. It's surreal, almost.]

I don't know what else to do.

[He can't just... just lie there. He hasn't been beaten yet, has he?]

[tsukihime]

[Arcueid, lying on her bed in the recovery room...is a horrible goddamn mess. She's been chopped into 17 pieces...and totally put back together wrong.

Her stomach is under her neck, one arm is protruding from her back, an ear is sitting on her shoulder, while another is on her hip. The other hip contains a calf, while her left calf has become an arm, a leg protrudes from the shoulder not containing an ear.

It's amazing if she'll even be able to figure out how to walk around. Still, her head is still placed on the top of this "body." She's groggy, sore, and nauseous. The woman has been sewn back together in this disgusting form with lengths of wire...and she's having a bit of trouble adjusting.

Soon after waking, she'll groan loudly and fall directly out of her bed. She'll manage to get up into a position in which she can move...but it's in horribly jerky motions, and she'll fall down often. Each motion brings great pain, and she'll simply groan helplessly as she attempts to move. She wants out of this place, and she's looking for the exit. She can't even seem to bring herself to speak at the moment.]