CHARACTERS: EVERYONE.
LOCATION: The Medbay, the Locker Room, the Passenger Quarters. Pick your poison.
WARNINGS: I didn't write this. The wonderful wonderment that are the mods did. I'm only borrowing so we can get this party started.
SUMMARY: You wake up. Now choose your own adventure. (Start a new thread, tag someone else's. Whatever, people.
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Comments 1131
Against his will, he found he was interested, excited, though...yes, confused. And as Clive examined the curious device that was in the locker with his number, he asked the nearest person, idly, "So...what do you think of this situation?"
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A medium-sized, brightly feathered parrot fluttered its way out of the large compartment, landing on Zouichi's bare shoulder and strangely enough, not looking much worse for being stored in a space locker. "Alan!"
The parrot glanced at Clive with one beady bird eye.
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And he found himself thinking and of course there has to be a parrot somewhere.
"A friend of yours?" An oddly reassuring one at that. If a top hat were pulled out from somewhere else he'd be convinced this was all just a vivid dream. "A...someone else I knew also kept a parrot. Oh, my apologies. I'm...Clive. Clive Dove."
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Zouichi turned back to Clive. "Zouichi. Kanoe Zouichi. Nice to meet you. So clearly you've excellent taste in friends; would you also happen to have any information about what we're doing here?"
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He was human.
He was humanSitting down heavily and trying to ignore how odd it felt to breathe, the feel of (everything) against his new flesh, he tried to remember how he'd gotten here and received only flickers of feeling and disjointed nothing. He remembered...base. On Earth. And going over his reports while Soundwave did something with his cassettes in the corner. Other than that ( ... )
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Lockers. Numbers. Okay, he's got a number. (Which he doesn't remember.) And there were still people here, but not nearly as bad as where all the tubes were, so. That was something. Hey, there was even a locker with his numbers on it. And his glasses were inside.
Shit, is that weird guy talking to him or to someone else?
"Heatwwavve is a stupid name." His tone was more than a little distracted, but he did have some bite in there. He happened to be a bit too busy trying to decide whether he was supposed to wear the jumpsuit or burn it to be properly scathing and catty at the moment. (That, and there was probably some kind of PTSD going on, but he didn't have a ( ... )
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He grinned good-naturedly. "I guess it might be, to you. It doesn't translate well into an organic language, and the naming structure for my species is a little odd by human standards." He tilted his head, abruptly deciding to notice the physical features that were...all wrong. "The same might be true for your species...if you're not human?"
Heatwave didn't think humans came in different builds like that, however.
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He finally gave up hope on real clothing and started to struggle into his special jumpsuit of fashion disaster-dom, feeling even more stupid for being clumsy about it. "Anywway, take a fuckin' number on this wwhole 'wwhat's goin' on' business. I'm first in line."
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Asato, after gathering from his locker what little he held dear--the flower petal, thank goddess he had his flower petal--pulled on the nondescript jumper. His nakedness didn't bother him, but the cold certainly did, and the style of clothing he was offered didn't matter one bit to him so long as it kept him warm ( ... )
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"You all right? Lost someone?"
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"I had lost them before. I don't know if they're here or not." The ribika kept his distance for the time being, his lowered ears and lashing tail betraying his agitated state. He wouldn't lash out unless the other attacked first, but from the looks of it he still considered it a very real possibility.
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"Okay. Their name's Konoe, right? What do they look like?" Heck, maybe he'd seen whoever it was.
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At first, he'd wondered if perhaps Daniel had gone completely mad and drugged him in preparation for a torture session. But as Alexander's mind cleared, he realized that this place was nothing like anything he'd seen in Brennenburg - and he knew every inch of the castle, considering he'd helped build the damned place.
This was not home, either.
...Had the Shadow consumed him while he wasn't looking? Even with all the warding rituals? That couldn't be. He knew one thing, at least: he was still alive, and he was numbered. But for what?
For now, all he could do was get a better understanding of his surroundings. There were signs of people all around him: voices, wet footprints on the ground, and even bodies floating in strange blue capsules. Something told him none of them would be any use in finding out where he was.
So he took it on himself to explore themed bay and surrounding area.
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"The number goes to your locker. Don't ask me who put it there, though."
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"You are a prisoner to this place as well?" Or a jailor? No matter the answer, he was not someone Alexander could trust, as far as the Baron was concerned. Not yet, anyway.
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Zouichi noticed the raised eyebrow, but more or less chose to ignore it. He was much more concerned about finding out what was going on around here. "But yes, I guess I'm in the same position as you. I just woke up a little earlier."
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How in the...?
He ambled to his feet with a grunt, faltered, then stood upright, unable to even see his own hands in front of his face amidst all the darkness. There was a dull ache all over his body, but not enough to deter him from keeping balance.
"Caroline?" He rasped, hoarse and deep--enough to stir up an aching cough from deep inside his chest. Right. Vocal chords and lungs still worked, ( ... )
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He knew that voice.
Zouichi turned around, staring at Cave Johnson Not the Young, Robust Cave Johnson of the 1940's and 50's.
"What are you doing here?"
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"What do you mean what am I doing here? I own the place." He wiped some leftover water from his face and wheeled around at the sound of the voice.
Unless here wasn't where he thought he was. Definitely a facility, definitely big. Had Black Mesa finally snapped, so jealous of Aperture that they would stoop so low as to capture their almighty and benevolent leader? Preposterous! But possible, if he was being greeted like that. Cave sure as hell didn't recognize the black-haired man.
"...I think. Where'er we at, kid?"
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He frowned at Cave. 'Kid'? "Have you seen anyone else from the Transmigration 9?"
If Cave was here, maybe some of the others were here, too. And this was some kind of bizarre Mission Gone Wrong.
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