Mayfield Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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mayfield_rpg2012-02-01 12:01 am
mayfield_mods) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-02-01 12:01 am
Entry tags:
event: break, day 6
[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, February 1st, the following characters will be brought to the factory following their operations:
Desty Nova
Sin
Kotomi Ichinose
Latvia
Len Kagamine
RED Engineer
Satomi Usagi
Fran Madaraki
Django
Captain Marvelous
Karkat Vantas
Code:Emperor
Dakki Sigal
Doc Scratch
Lyra Bark
Rin Kaenbyou
Caesar Silverburg
Tara
Sexy
Jade Harley
Tyve Russell-Rasmusse
[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.]
also cool to assume this is the last thread chronologically
...Ten....Eleven....Twe--
[(Karkat Vantas is by your bedside.)
Said the small thump in his mind. Looks like for all her tinkering, the tiny amount of natural omniscience he had was still there. So he opened his eyes and looked to Karkat.
...Heh. He looked terrible. Terezi's eyes, Signless' shackles. Yet that thought did not bring any satisfaction to him, but he was so sure Karkat could hear it loud and clear. That alone made it worth thinking. And, in the same moment, he held back his paranoia and spoke. Karkat Vantas was no threat (a fact, an eternal truth) to him.]
What is it, Mr. Vantas?
sounds good!
And he slams his fists down, one on either side of Scratch's neck. He hisses in pain at the way that puts pressure on his wrists, burns them even harder with the way the weight of the manacles digs into his skin, the way raw and tender areas are suddenly pressed on, but he doesn't care. He pushes and pushes, pressing the heaviness and heat of the manacles into his neck.
It's appropriate, it's so so right. Scratch did this to him. These manacles, the shape they make, were given to him because they are tied to him, a part of his very blood, but they are Scratch's too. He did this to him, he did this to all of them. They say the Signless, in his final moments, was filled with an all-consuming rage and Karkat isn't sure he believes it but he can imagine the feeling filling him. He is so so angry and he is always so angry, so filled with it to the point that it always shocks and overcomes him. Every hurt piled on him and every hurt he's ever witnessed but been too small and too afraid and too powerless to do anything to help converts into rage in him. He's hurting so much right now but rather than be hurt he can release all that anger and it isn't Scratch he's angry at, but he's the first one he's ever met who he can channel that anger at because there is no one else besides himself he hates nearly enough.
He's not thinking clearly enough to consider that Scratch will probably come back. He is going to kill Scratch, he is going to remove any trace of him, burn him to nothing with the Signless' cuffs, and that will be his destiny.]
no subject
[He gasped out, in a raspy voice, holding back a scream. Ah. So that was it. So the voice in his head that was telling him not to even say anything was right? Or maybe the voice in his head was so loud on the outside that troll accepted a challenge. One that he did not issue with his words, but with his actions. And the pain barely registered and maybe it would not even register at all, if the burning sting of the cuffs did not slam into him the way they did. These flames were not welcoming like the Green Sun, but hot like the flaring sun of Alternia.
It will leave marks on his weak skin. Proof that this moment happened. It was a good thing his neck was usually hidden by his suit and bowtie. But it won't change that they will be there.
Funny. He doesn't hate Karkat. He doesn't hate any of them. Hating them is so pointless. Like someone hating an ant. The ant is not something worth recognizing on any emotional level. You don't think of the feelings of an ant, when you step on the ground they walk on, and you don't really ever consider it to be a fellow living creature. Only someone sadistic would kill ants for the fun of it, because the ant doesn't understand either that they are sometimes a bother. The only difference is that you leave the ant alone, tolerate it at times, and live while only recognizing in the back of the mind that it exists.
Now the "ant" was attacking. The "troll" was attacking. It was funny. It should be funny. But it isn't. This isn't funny at all. And maybe, if Karkat could see, it would be clear that he was hardly injured on a physical level. The woman only tampered with his mind, his cognition, not with his body.
But Karkat can't see. So he won't even see Scratch's arms reaching swiftly up to his neck, moving to squeeze him into a choking grip. Only it isn't what a human's strength should be. It is a fierce and forceful and still contained enough to not snap the neck in two from the raw power behind it. He also won't see the very light green glow, a natural effect of over-exerting himself.]
no subject
Besides, Scratch is trying to kill him to get him to stop. Scratch thinks that there is currently some part, any part of him that cares whether he lives or dies, that he would actually prefer to live despite the tortuous pain, the self-disgust, the humiliation he feels at the very thought of anyone seeing him like this.
It's so funny to him that he manages to gasp out a desperate laugh and shoves the manacles hard against Scratch's chin.]
no subject
But he does know he doesn't want to kill Karkat. He doesn't care for killing unless it was necessary. So instead he takes one hand off the neck, though leaving the right one still wrapped around in a looser hold, and moves the hand to Karkat's eye. He knows Karkat is blind, because it's obviously the eyes of a Seer, but he instead jabs his thumb into it. If anything it would, with any hope, get Karkat to back down from the pressure.]
no subject
However, as he's blinking away the pain in his (no, Terezi's) eye, his body suddenly goes completely stiff.
Karkat reaches back down and wraps the cuffs around Scratch's neck. He strangles the life out of him, watching as he jerks and chokes and goes still, that symbol permanently burned into his flesh. Scratch's hands to the same to him, pushing hard into his windtube until his vision goes black. Neither of them will ever return. And in Mayfield, the surgeries continue, and no one is there to protect his friends. They put Gamzee and Terezi and Sollux and Kanaya on the operating table and Mrs. Johnson rips out their organs, their bones, even their blood vessels, splattering on the floor, and she gives nothing back. Their eyes are wide and they're screaming, screaming, screaming before they go silent and she dumps the empty corpses to the side and rolls in Aradia and Tavros and Feferi and Nepeta.
And then Karkat, back in the factory recovery room with his manacles clasped about the throat of Doc Scratch, begins to shake.
The thing is, he is fairly certain it is not real. Could Terezi's eyes give him the ability to See? Possibly. Probably not, though. Would Mayfield do this to him? Yes. Would his and Scratch's deaths really lead to that outcome if it was avoidable otherwise? No.
Would this hate, this anger, this revenge, or any other thing that in the universe that he could possibly want possibly be worth the risk?
Never. Never, no matter how slim the chance is, there is nothing that will ever be worth risking their lives to him.
Breathing hard, he pulls his hands away.]
1/2
Now that Karkat is far away enough, Scratch easily gets out of the gurney and grabs the collar of Karkat's shirt. Then he uses his strength to lift the troll up with that one arm alone, high enough so that he can make eye contact with him. Getting him while he was down on the bed was one thing. Like this he knows Karkat won't have the strength to lift the manacles up enough to hit him now.
And so many thoughts are swarming through his mind and he just wants to bash Karkat's head in for throwing the first punch. He was so content to leave the boy alone. To leave all of them alone. To just tolerate their existence and that was it. Just as anyone would do to an ant. It was so illogical why they would ever think of wanting more than that (but they aren't ants after all--) and he is sure he will never understand it. Not with all the omniscience of all universes combined could he ever understand them fully.]
...
no subject
He doesn't say a word. He wants to, but thoughts speak louder than words for the time being and actions speak larger than both. It's so mysterious. Even with those hot irons and the shared blood and all of the martyrdom, he cannot find any room to even dislike the boy, in the same manner that he hated Signless. At the same time it was not mysterious. It was painstakingly obvious and it didn't need to be said.
So, rather than bash Karkat's head into the ground and watch him bleed, Scratch simply swishes his arm to the left and then tosses Karkat to the wall on the right side of the room. A discarded doll, with nothing but the sign of the hot irons holding him up, was all that Karkat Vantas was. Both in a literal sense at this moment and in a metaphorical sense every other time before and in the future.]
Pathetic.
[Scratch sighs, his tone dark and yet tired all the same. He feels too sick from the drugs to even spare the energy to look down at Karkat. Instead he turns away and slowly begins to move to the doorway on the other side. He won't find a way out, he's sure, but getting away from this place is all he needs for now.]
no subject
And he can see in his mind that with Scratch alive, all of his plans will fail, Noir will come for them all and he can watch the last of them bleeding out, and it's all because of him.
No, it isn't real, he's sure, but there's nothing he can do anyway. Pathetic, that is what he is, he can't do anything. So he won't move or try to get up, he'll just lay here and want to die.]