Mask or Menace | MODERATORS (
maskormods) wrote in
maskormenacelogs2016-01-20 06:18 pm
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Entry tags:
- bart allen | kid flash,
- harleen quinzel | harley quinn,
- jaime reyes | blue beetle,
- ronan lynch | greywaren,
- tadashi hamada | n/a,
- tohru adachi | n/a,
- xion | no i,
- † agent texas | n/a,
- † anavha hasaria | omajitsa,
- † andrew warner | n/a,
- † april ludgate | janet snakehole,
- † barnaby brooks jr. | n/a,
- † bela talbot | n/a,
- † billy kaplan | wiccan,
- † carl grimes | n/a,
- † cisco ramon | vibe,
- † clara oswald | n/a,
- † cosima niehaus | n/a,
- † dave strider | knight of time,
- † dick grayson | nightwing,
- † dipper pines | n/a,
- † ellie langford | n/a,
- † elsa brandt | the fabricator,
- † euphemia li britannia | n/a,
- † gaby teller | chop shop,
- † gogo tomago | n/a,
- † hinami fueguchi | n/a,
- † john watson | n/a,
- † julian day | calendar man,
- † kaito kuroba | kaitou kid,
- † karen starr | power girl,
- † karkat vantas | knight of blood,
- † ken kaneki | one eyed king,
- † lucifer | n/a,
- † mathieu carver | shadow,
- † max caulfield | n/a,
- † mike parker | n/a,
- † miles vorkosigan | admiral naismith,
- † newton geiszler | n/a,
- † normie osborn | n/a,
- † pacifica northwest | n/a,
- † perry the platypus | agent p,
- † ray kowalski | n/a,
- † richard gansey | raven king,
- † ripley | n/a,
- † stan pines | n/a,
- † the iron bull | the iron dragon
COME AND KEEP YOUR COMRADE WARM
WHO: The kidnapped imPorts that have signed up HERE.
WHERE: Unknown.
WHEN: January 20th - until they have been ICly rescued OR February 5th.
WHAT: The imPorts have been kidnapped! Try not to bite each other's heads off in captivity, kids.
WARNINGS: Potential violence, death. Please let us know if this needs to be updated.
When the kidnapped imPorts come to, they'll find themselves disoriented as if they've been drugged, aching from the callous way they were simply thrown into their shared cell, and limbs leaden with the residual effects of whatever it is running through their systems. Here, there's no superhealing to help accelerate their recovery period, no incredible powers of perception, no seventh sense alerting them of their surroundings. Here, they are as powerless as any other human, and at the expense of those that wish them harm.
The first thing they will notice is their clothing. Any imPort with simple, fabric clothing will still be in the clothing they were abducted in, but any imPort who had been previously clothed in anything containing more metal than a small button or a small zipper will find themselves in dull grey scrubs, loose and formless. Once they look up from themselves, they will see the state of their cell.
All kidnapped imPorts - over a whopping fifty - will be in the same cell, one that is slightly too small for such a high density of bodies. Both the floor and the walls are made of wide, reinforced metal plates, and while the imPorts may attempt to scrabble at the screws, they will find no purchase, and will be left with nothing more than bloodied fingers. At first, it appears that they have been provided with nothing more than a large, metal room, but they will soon find that that is not quite the case. Within the deep panels of the walls are full oxygen tanks with corresponding attachments that fit over the nose and mouth. ImPorts may wish to use this more than they would originally expect due to the paltry latrines they have been fitted with: in the back right corner of the wall, there's a slightly smaller room (albeit one without a door; their captors care little for their sense of privacy) with little more than a grate to piss in, and three buckets kept on a ledge with an adjoining door just big enough for the bucket.
Once they look up, they will see nothing more than more dreary metal, save for one inconspicuous presence just above the door in the form of an intercom. It seems that the guards are present to issue whatever information they believe the imPorts need to know so, one may wonder, why bother with an intercom in such an enclosed space? The answer comes soon enough when a calm, clear voice speaks through it:
"Good day, imPorts. I am aware that you have grown accustomed to more grandiose accommodations, but I encourage you to make yourselves comfortable for your lengthy stay.
I am called LACKEY. I brought you here. I advise against escape attempts. You won't like what's out there."
NOTE: ImPorts may address or attempt to communicate with LACKEY if they/players so choose; please indicate any thread directed to LACKEY by commenting with a link to your thread HERE. LACKEY will otherwise be silent unless it has something necessary to say.
Outside the door, they will always see at least one guard standing at the ready. He will answer their confused cries once, and only once:
"You are now property of the USSR," he will inform them in surprisingly excellent English, only a touch of a Russian accent making its way through. "You have been secured in our space shuttle. If you and your American comrades cooperate, no harm will come to you. Do not anticipate rescue; the Americans do not have the adequate technology to pursue our shuttle."
After that, the imPorts may cry and scream until their throats are hoarse, but the rotating guards won't say a word, merely stare stonily in front of themselves, as impassive as if they were watching paint dry instead of hearing the cries of their captors. Three times a day, food that the imPorts may recognize to be similar to what they were served at NASA's HQ will be shoved through a slim hole in the door: foods that have been freeze dried and then rehydrated, and foods that are simply served dry will heavily dominate their diet. Some imPorts may greedily take more than their share, but this is immaterial to their captors; if one of the imPorts go hungry for days at a time, it is none of their concern.
With little to do but rail at the walls and talk amongst each other, however, the imPorts will be able to pay very close attention to their surroundings. They will receive the following hints as to where they are being kept:
1) On the third guard shift on their second day, they will notice that their guard's uniform is strangely damp. He will shift uncomfortably in his uniform, and as he pauses to wring out the bottom of his pant leg, he will mutter to himself: "Ach, соленый"
2) In the middle of the night on the first day, they will feel a rumbling underneath them that feels like the murmuring of a strained engine, and with it, will feel a subtle surge of movement.
3) By the fourth day, they may overhear two guards outside their cell communicating in sharp whispers, one appearing to be angrily trying to pull together the other, who is experiencing claustrophobia and complaining about the length of their shifts, blaming imPorts for the fact they have to be stuck here for so long. He will be silenced quickly by his companion guard.
WHERE: Unknown.
WHEN: January 20th - until they have been ICly rescued OR February 5th.
WHAT: The imPorts have been kidnapped! Try not to bite each other's heads off in captivity, kids.
WARNINGS: Potential violence, death. Please let us know if this needs to be updated.
When the kidnapped imPorts come to, they'll find themselves disoriented as if they've been drugged, aching from the callous way they were simply thrown into their shared cell, and limbs leaden with the residual effects of whatever it is running through their systems. Here, there's no superhealing to help accelerate their recovery period, no incredible powers of perception, no seventh sense alerting them of their surroundings. Here, they are as powerless as any other human, and at the expense of those that wish them harm.
The first thing they will notice is their clothing. Any imPort with simple, fabric clothing will still be in the clothing they were abducted in, but any imPort who had been previously clothed in anything containing more metal than a small button or a small zipper will find themselves in dull grey scrubs, loose and formless. Once they look up from themselves, they will see the state of their cell.
All kidnapped imPorts - over a whopping fifty - will be in the same cell, one that is slightly too small for such a high density of bodies. Both the floor and the walls are made of wide, reinforced metal plates, and while the imPorts may attempt to scrabble at the screws, they will find no purchase, and will be left with nothing more than bloodied fingers. At first, it appears that they have been provided with nothing more than a large, metal room, but they will soon find that that is not quite the case. Within the deep panels of the walls are full oxygen tanks with corresponding attachments that fit over the nose and mouth. ImPorts may wish to use this more than they would originally expect due to the paltry latrines they have been fitted with: in the back right corner of the wall, there's a slightly smaller room (albeit one without a door; their captors care little for their sense of privacy) with little more than a grate to piss in, and three buckets kept on a ledge with an adjoining door just big enough for the bucket.
Once they look up, they will see nothing more than more dreary metal, save for one inconspicuous presence just above the door in the form of an intercom. It seems that the guards are present to issue whatever information they believe the imPorts need to know so, one may wonder, why bother with an intercom in such an enclosed space? The answer comes soon enough when a calm, clear voice speaks through it:
I am called LACKEY. I brought you here. I advise against escape attempts. You won't like what's out there."
NOTE: ImPorts may address or attempt to communicate with LACKEY if they/players so choose; please indicate any thread directed to LACKEY by commenting with a link to your thread HERE. LACKEY will otherwise be silent unless it has something necessary to say.
Outside the door, they will always see at least one guard standing at the ready. He will answer their confused cries once, and only once:
"You are now property of the USSR," he will inform them in surprisingly excellent English, only a touch of a Russian accent making its way through. "You have been secured in our space shuttle. If you and your American comrades cooperate, no harm will come to you. Do not anticipate rescue; the Americans do not have the adequate technology to pursue our shuttle."
After that, the imPorts may cry and scream until their throats are hoarse, but the rotating guards won't say a word, merely stare stonily in front of themselves, as impassive as if they were watching paint dry instead of hearing the cries of their captors. Three times a day, food that the imPorts may recognize to be similar to what they were served at NASA's HQ will be shoved through a slim hole in the door: foods that have been freeze dried and then rehydrated, and foods that are simply served dry will heavily dominate their diet. Some imPorts may greedily take more than their share, but this is immaterial to their captors; if one of the imPorts go hungry for days at a time, it is none of their concern.
With little to do but rail at the walls and talk amongst each other, however, the imPorts will be able to pay very close attention to their surroundings. They will receive the following hints as to where they are being kept:
1) On the third guard shift on their second day, they will notice that their guard's uniform is strangely damp. He will shift uncomfortably in his uniform, and as he pauses to wring out the bottom of his pant leg, he will mutter to himself: "Ach, соленый"
2) In the middle of the night on the first day, they will feel a rumbling underneath them that feels like the murmuring of a strained engine, and with it, will feel a subtle surge of movement.
3) By the fourth day, they may overhear two guards outside their cell communicating in sharp whispers, one appearing to be angrily trying to pull together the other, who is experiencing claustrophobia and complaining about the length of their shifts, blaming imPorts for the fact they have to be stuck here for so long. He will be silenced quickly by his companion guard.
DAYS
She's grateful, of course, for the guard at the bathroom (if you could even call it that) and the food, and she wants to help him, too.]
Hey, Iron Bull. How are you doing?
[She tries to smile, too.]
no subject
[Besides. This place doesn't have shit on a Ben-Hassrath interrogation cell.]
Hey kid. Been pretty damn bored. You holding up okay?
[It's mostly true. Even though a huge chunk of of it is an act. Something to cover up the worry. He looks like he should be dependable. He looks like he should keep a cool head.]
[So he does.]
[Outwardly.]
no subject
[Max, meanwhile, is not so good at hiding her emotions, and although her eyes are dry, she still hiccups every now and then.]
no subject
[Because there's no use having a conversation if someone is still that upset. Not that he really blames her.]
no subject
I'm fine. [No, not really, but she'll manage.]
no subject
I'm not going to make you be fine.
[Bottling shit up never helps anyway. He should know.]
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