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maskormenacelogs2016-01-20 06:18 pm
maskormods) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-01-20 06:18 pm
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.
no subject
So when she sees a guy who's paying attention, she naturally gets curious.]
Hey. Find anything good?
no subject
[He didn't exactly expect to be bothered by someone, and he looked up at the girl in surprise.]
Oh uh... not really. Just a lot of Russian and our guards being idiots.
no subject
[She doesn't, but she's going to have to study Russian if she ever gets out of here.]
no subject
[Adachi turned to face her, absently tapping against the wall.]
They sound like idiots though. They're just talking over there like they know we're not going to understand them. Like they don't get us imPorts come from all over.
no subject
[Because she sure as hell doesn't.]
no subject
[Adachi paused, looking around at the huge room of people, his eyes lingering on what was supposed to be their bathroom. Ugh...]
I'm pretty sure the smell is going to kill us eventually.
[He shook his head... before he paused, looking like he suddenly just got hit in the face with the best idea ever.]
no subject
[At the mention of the smell, Max shudders.]
Yeah, I know. It's really gross.
[Adachi, what is that look?]
no subject
[A sly little grin game to his face.]
So... what if we started dying? Not really of course, but...
[That little plan was quickly coming together in his head. He'd seen it happen before in movies, and you were pretty dumb if you couldn't figure out what the hell was happening, but...]
We're supposed to be property, right? Their collateral for whatever the hell they want. It'd be a shame if something happened to it. Someone would have to come running in to check, right?
no subject
[Oh. She gets it, now.]
Well, yeah, that might work. But maybe we should find out exactly where we are, first.
no subject
[C'mon, kids were smart, right? Impress him a little bit, will 'ya?]
no subject
[Assholes.]
no subject
[Adachi paused, glancing over the crowd.]
...what d'ya think? Think we can get this many people to play along? Can't make it too obvious, 'ya know? In case they've been watching us the whole time.
[He didn't see any cameras, but he wouldn't put it past them.]
no subject
[She's not usually one for violence, but she wouldn't complain if, along the way, they all get punched in the face.]
I think we can get at least a few in on it, but we'd better come up with some backups.
[Just in case.]
I'm Max, by the way.
no subject
[Okay, he realized it was probably short for something, but wasn't that usually what Americans called their dogs? C'mon, girl, have a little more self respect than that! Of course, Adachi wasn't going to say as much, but it was damn hard not to.]
Just Adachi is fine.
And hey, it's fine; we do need some people screaming and frantic about other people just up and dropping like flies. Wouldn't get their attention very well if it was just me banging at the cage.
[He was handsome and all, but he doubted his yelling would be very effective against these guys.]
What d'ya say? Worth giving it a shot?
no subject
Okay, Adachi.
[She thinks for a moment.]
Yeah, I think so. The biggest problem would be timing. We'd have to be careful.
no subject
We need some way to coordinate without making too much visible fuss; don't want to draw too much attention to us.
[He let out a faint noise.]
And letting everyone on the outside know what we're trying to do will help too, I guess.
no subject
no subject
[Adachi stared at her dumbly, before taking a look at his jacket, definitely absent his communication device.]
How exactly do you plan on doing that?
no subject
no subject
[What, how did that even... why did no one tell him about this? Well... okay, maybe he was told about it, but he zoned out. That sounded about right.]
I think you're gonna have to do that. I have no idea where to even start with doing that.
no subject
[Because timing is going to be everything on this one.]
no subject
[He paused, frowning to himself.]
...Riza-san should know. Uh... Riza Hawkeye. I dunno who else would be important enough to know what's going on beyond her.
[He let out an embarrassed noise at that. Geeze, he made it sound like they were close or something.]
Uh, I guess just anyone?
no subject