Into The Unknown - The Cell

[Friadoc]

[IC]

Where are you?

What is going on?

How did you get here?

Those three questions strike first into your confused mind as you awaken upon a cool, concrete slab within a vaulted, yet small cell made of the same dreary material and that you are alone.

Florescent lights glare down upon you, adding an eerie edge to these unfamiliar confines, their angry buzzing similar to that of bees from a fallen hive.

Slowly the panic creeps into your mind as your last memories leap forth in your mind.

It was the night of the election, November 2nd 2004, and hints of 2000 were upon many a naysayer’s lips, the talk of lawyers was gloomy enough to drive you out.

Normally you never went for a walk, especially not so late at night, but the park you were driving by pulled at you. A haven from the technocratic assault on your senses, or just the pessimistic outlook towards the election by pundits and intellirati, but you walked into the sylvan confines.

First there was the bright flash of light, bright white light, and then the consuming darkness, the last thing you can remember until this moment.

The flimsy grey gown you are wearing hangs loosely open at the back; it has no ties and lends a vulnerable feeling to your situation.

Inset within the opposing wall is a large, metallic door of a flat finish, it has no handles within, nor a lock, and seems securely in place if you try to force it.

How did you get here?

What is going on?

Where are you?

OOC:

OOC: To avoid panicking, I will need ‘Will’ saves from everyone, DC 12, using the direct roller and aforementioned address. Post your actions, although since you are alone, no one amongst the group will know of your [IC] actions at this time. Welcome to the game… ADDENDUM: I forgot to, originally, include the Will Save DC, there ya go. More replies, more! Muahhaha!

 

[iamrpgdm]

[IC]
A cold chill was moving up my spine and raising the hair on the back of my neck. I rubbed my hand along my arm to warm it, but there's no comfort in being vulnerable like this. It wasn't but two weeks ago when I was in a similar situation awaiting the doctor to return with my test results. I really dislike going to the doctor, but there are times when it just can't be avoided.

As my body shivered again, I started to realize that I'm not in a dream that I can wake up from. Something has happened to me.

My mind was racing trying to remember what I was doing and where I was before I woke up here. For all I know, maybe I wasn't at the doctor's office two weeks ago. I don't know how long I've even been here. Wherever here is. The cold concrete beneath my bare feet sparked a memory awake in my mind.

It was election night. I remember I had gone out to vote. I don't much care for politics, but I figured I'd toss my vote into the ring and see what would come of it. As I was waiting in line, I noticed her.

She was about 5' 5" or 5' 6" and had brown shoulder-length hair. I don't know if it was her smile or her deep green eyes that hooked me first, but I knew I just had to meet her. With luck appearing to be on my side, the two different lines we were in were merging into one as we got closer to the voting booths.

It was one of those awkward moments where you want to be the courtious one and they do as well and so you both hold back waiting for the other to make the first move. Then of course, you both realize the other is allowing you the first move and so you proceed to carry onward. As you do though, you also realize that they thought the same and then you end up crashing into one another.

I don't think it would have worked out better if I had planned it. We started talking and found out that we had a lot in common. We continued our conversation after we had voted and I found out that she lived just a few blocks away from me. We went for a coffee and a donut at the Krispy Kreme and I walked her home going through the park that separated our neighborhoods. I walked her to her door, got a kiss goodnight and her phone number. I guess there really is something good that can come from going out to vote.

I started back towards my place crossing back through the park feeling good about the nights events. As I passed under one of the walkway lights watching the cobblestone path beneath my feet, I remember thinking that the light was shining a lot brighter then I've seen them. As I turned around to see if maybe it was going to blow or something, there was a bright flash and then I was here looking into fluorescent lights shining down upon me in this cold room.

I glanced back down at the floor beneath my feet. My toes were becoming numb.

OOC:

OOC: I take a quick look around the cell. How large is it? How high is the ceiling? Are there any visible hinges on the door? Listening at the door can I hear any sounds?

 

[Remus Lupin]

[IC]
Sam woke with a start and quickly took in the scene. He had no idea where he was, but he felt a distinct draft. Holding his hospital gown closed in back, he stood and began to explore his surroundings. The floor was cold. He approached the door and looked for a way of opening it.

He tried to piece together the fragements of what he could remember. As far as he knew, it was still Tuesday. When he woke up it had been pissing rain. Exactly the kind of day that urged him to stay in bed. Nevertheless, he had been up at five for his run. He stopped by his dojo at 7 to take care of some paperwork and then headed to the construction site. He was framing what must have been the ten thousandth condominium to go up in this city in the past year. He was beginning to wonder if anyone built houses anymore.

Lunchtime had been a frustrating litany of political invective as his workmated debated the election over ham and cheese sandwiches. Sam was just as happy to stay out of it.

After work, he went back by his dojo to work out for an hour. There were no classes on Tuesdays, so he had the place to himself. His assistant Joe usually stopped by to work out with him in the evenings, but he was visiting his mother in the oncology unit that night, so Sam knocked off early. He was still feeling punchy though, so he walked the mile or so to the park to run off his excess energy.

The park was dark, and even the few street lamps that lit its perimeter didn't penetrate the deepest portions. Sam didn't care. He could take care of himself. The last thing he clearly remembered was passing the old oak tree near the center of the park. After that, his mind was a blank slate until this moment.

He began pounding on the door. "Hey! Whoever's out there! Let me out!

 

[Maci]

[IC]
The drop off was an hour across town, but Rollo had given himself a good two hours to get there. He started off in the wrong direction, double-backed, and stopped for sushi. He hadn't seen anyone following him. He sat where he could watch his car.

The envelopes were on the front seat in plain sight. If he had been followed, someone would get out, walk by the car, and glance in to see if the package was there or if Rollo had taken it with him. No one did.

He got caught in some traffic around a school; good citizens were lining up to vote. Rollo made up the time on the freeway.

Rollo found a parking space on the street in front of the office building where he was to deliver the package. He was fifteen minutes early and it wouldn't do to wait in the car on the street. People were leaving the building for lunch. He went in, found a men's room, and settled in an empty stall to wait.

When it was five minutes to the delivery, he went out, stopping to straighten his tie in the mirror, and took the elevator to the seventh floor.

The directory opposite the elevator doors showed most of the seventh floor unoccupied. Two men were coming down the corrider on the left arguing about the day's voting. Rollo turned right and followed the corriders around to the southwest corner of the building.

He came to an empty reception area. Rollo could see where prints had hung on the wall and a dead plant took up one corner.

Above a counter was a half-removed sign, "ssociates - Eye, Ear, Nose, and Throat." A woman sat on a faded couch talking into a cell phone. He thought it was a no-show until she looked him and saw the envelopes. She held up her index finger and mouthed, "Wait."

Rollo fought back the urge to reply with a finger. Cow. Rollo waited impatiently. Cho ought to stick to using Koreans for the pick up. This was really unprofessional.

At last she finished. Rollo took a step forward and everything went black.

------------

He was a long time in waking up. He was first aware of his thirst. His tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth. When he tried to open his eyes and look up, a sharp stab of pain went through his skull. He just sat still a few moments until the ache subsided into something bearable.

Rollo opened his eyes again and looked around, taking care not to move his head sharply. Opposite him was the dead plant.

He was still in the reception area. It was darker. Rollo brought up his arm and looked at his watch. It was well after five. He'd been out cold for five hours. Carefully he pulled himself up on the arm of the couch that had hidden him from the corrider.

The back of his head was sticky with blood. He looked around for the envelopes. Of course they weren't there. His car keys and wallet were gone. He staggered out into the corrider. Somewhere on the seventh floor a phone was ringing. Gently, Rollo swung his neck about, loosening it up.

He saw the shoes. Black, shiny, and unremarkable except for sticking out from behind the receptionist's desk. He stepped around the counter. The shoes were on a body. This was probably Cho's Korean, but the face was too bloody to be sure and he wasn't inclined to wipe it clean. He wasn't inclined to do anything but grip the counter and fight back a sudden wave of nausea.

Out in the corrider, Rollo didn't see anyone as made his way to a men's room.

After drinking water caught in his cupped hands, Rollo checked himself out in the mirror. He looked like roadkill. His face was pale. The collar of his shirt was spotted with blood. He took off his tie and rolled his shirt collar inside his shirt. That way it just looked like bad fashion. Less noticeable than the blood. With care he was able to get a comb through his hair in the back that was matted with blood.

When he was through he didn't look his best, but he was presentable. He checked his watch. It was close to six. Rollo thought he'd be able to get through the lobby and out to his car without attracting undue attention.

-----------

The only one who seemed to notice him was a woman out on the street wearing an Uncle Sam hat and waving a 'Bush-Cheney' placard. She smiled at Rollo and yelled, "Vote Bush!"

Rollo gave a quick smile and wave back. I got your bush right here, bitch.

------------

Rollo found two parking tickets under his windshield wiper but nothing else seemed to be touched. The spare set of keys were behind the rear bumper. He got his cell phone out of the glove box. Four messages from Cho. Cho could wait another hour, he wasn't going to be any happier if Rollo called him now. Rollo wanted to be home, in the shower, and pretending none of this had happened.

But it had happened. His contact was dead. His package was gone. He was alive for none reason he could figure except maybe he just hadn't been worth the effort to kill. It was a disaster. It was a setup from start to finish.

Traffic was bad. Worse than usual. The radio was full of the election turnout. Rollo saw lines of people waiting to vote for that one guy or the other. He didn't give a damn. He was regretting his self-imposed rule that he wouldn't smoke in the car. But better to concentrate. He couldn't afford to be pulled over without his license and blood on his shirt. That would at least get him held and the body wasn't going to be undiscovered forever. And his blood was at the crime scene.

Damn, he hadn't thought of that. It gave them something to DNA match if it came to that. All the more reason not to be stopped.

He finally comprimised. At a stoplight, Rollo rolled down his window and light a cigarette. A man leaned out the passenger side window of the car waiting next to him and shouted, "Go Kerry", making Rollo's head throb all the more. Rollo glared and flipped the cigarette into the other car before making a hard right turn against the red light.

Tires squealed and horns blared. The Kerry supporter was shouting obscenities after him. Bite me. There are some things a man shouldn't have to put up with.

----------

It was seven and just after dark when Rollo reached his apartment. His cell had rung once while he was driving. Probably Cho so he didn't pick up. One nightmare at a time.

There was a car with out-of-state plates in his parking spot. Normally he'd raise hell with the manager about this. Instead he drove to the visitor spot.

His apartment was as he'd left it. An untidy studio but cleaner than most bachellor rooms he'd seen. He was ravenous. He got the last of yesterday's salad out of the fridge and scarfed it down. That and a shower made him feel somewhat functional again. Cleaned up, the back of his head wasn't so bad. A large lump and a cut, but nothing that would need stitches. The headache was gone so when the cell rang again he was ready to talk to Cho.

Cho opened with, "Where the hell's my package?" and the conversation went downhill from there. Rollo did his best to explain. When he had, Cho was silent for a moment.

"Okay, I check things out. We talk in the morning."

That was decidely un-Cholike. Rollo didn't think it a good idea to wait for morning. Under his desk was an envelope with $500 and some ID. The ID wasn't his. It was one of Rollo's earliest forgery jobs and looked it, but it might tide him over until he could come up with something better. That and a few things tossed into a duffle and he was ready to go. He looked around. He was two month's ahead on the rent so he had that much time to straighten things out.

He went round the back of the building to the visitor's lot. He passed the car in his spot. Both its back tires were flattened. He guessed that Cho's people must be up knocking on his door.

Rollo went to a drive-thru espresso and picked up a cup of coffee. That and a cigarette would calm him down. There was a park where he played pick-up softball sometimes. It was open enough he needn't worry about suprises, and peaceful enough at this time of evening he could think.

He found a bench and sat nursing his coffee. Going to his sister was out. She might take him in but his tight-ass brother-in-law would ask questions. Mac was home but the stroke left him paralyzed on his left side. Rollo's erstwhile partner had enough troubles of his own. And anyone who knew Rollo would send Cho's guys or the cops to his stepfather's. It was better that Fernando could honestly claim not to know where he was.

Rollo got out a cigarette and flicked open his lighter. So, where to go? Something flashed bright in his eyes and for the second time that day, everything went black.

-------------

Flourecsent lights buzzed above him. Prison? He fought back a surge of panic. My ass is cold. He got up on his elbows. He was wearing some sort of hospital gown.

Rollo swung his legs over the edge of the table he was on. No hospital had concrete tables. He looked around. A door with no inside handle. Prison hospital. Logic asserted itself.

He knew it was futile to try the door in that case, but form dictated he try. It didn't yield. The gown annoyed him. Why couldn't these things tie in the back?

Well, it was never to early to start breaking the rules. He slipped of the gown and tied it round his waist. No way was he going to spend his first day in jail with his ass hanging out.

He sat back up on the table. Not much to do but wait. Someone would turn up. He wished he had a least one cigarette to pass the time with. Not even a magazine in this place. And no toilet too.

They better come soon, I have to pee.

[/IC]

 

[Friadoc]

[IC]

Even pleasant memories cannot keep the chill from Zach's feet as he examines the door to his cell, as well as it's dimensions - Eight-feet by eight-feet with a vaulted ceiling that is nine-feet at the edges, but twelve-feet at the central pinnacle.

When Rollo thinks of a toilet, a urinal forms within the wall to the right of his concrete slab. So quickly and fluid is the change, that the wall did not appear to be a solid, but instead a liquid, however if checked it is as solid as the other walls.

Pounding flesh against metal, Sam's panic reaches a fever pitch as the carpenter's hands beat upon the door's surface. So focused is Sam's fear upon the door, that he does not notice a swirling portal of blackness, about the size of a basketball, open in the wall behind him and then, just as quickly, close.

OOC: Troy I need you to make two rolls for Zach; a Search DC 20 and a Listen DC 18. Scott I need to you make a roll for Sam; another Will DC 16. Also, John, I need a roll for Rollo, too; a Listen DC 22.

 

[Maci]

OOC: Also, John, I need a roll for Rollo, too; a Listen DC 22.

OOC: OOC: Rollo doesn't have ranks in Listen so I'm skipping the roll; he can't possibly make it. When Rollo thinks of a toilet, a urinal forms within the wall to the right of his concrete slab. So quickly and fluid is the change, that the wall did not appear to be a solid, but instead a liquid, however if checked it is as solid as the other walls. [IC] Rollo stared for a moment, then blinked. It's still there. He reached behind his head and felt the lump where he'd hit earlier. Seeing things? Maybe I was hit harder than I thought. He sat there, not moving, but considering the new fixture. Warily, he slid off the table. The urinal seemed solid enough. Someone's really going to hacked off if this leaves a puddle. Finished, he re-tied the gown around his waist. Rollo looked around. No washstand. Good thing Mom taught me not to pee on my hands. [/IC]

 

[iamrpgdm]

[IC]

Even pleasant memories cannot keep the chill from Zach's feet as he examines the door to his cell, as well as it's dimensions - Eight-feet by eight-feet with a vaulted ceiling that is nine-feet at the edges, but twelve-feet at the central pinnacle.

[IC]

They don't build jail cells with vaulted ceilings and theres no padded walls, Zach thinks to himself. If I'm not in a jail nor a sanitarium... Zach quickly starts feeling around his body performing a self examination. I remember seeing emails coming through my account telling stories of people being drugged and they wake up and their kidneys or other organs have been removed for sale on the black market. Not feeling anything amiss, Zach lets out a sigh of relief.

In this attire though, I must be in some sort of hospital observation room. Zach quickly looks around searching for a camera somewhere that's watching him.

Seeing no obvious signs of a camera, Zach moves to the door. Or at least what he thinks is the door.

"Okay, where's the door handle?", Zach mutters aloud.

This must be some high-tech facility with special door mechanisms, Zach thinks. If this place is high-tech, you'd think they'd

"At least provide some sort of a toilet in here", Zach grumbles hoping that there's somebody watching and listening to him.

He really did need to go. The four cups of coffee he drank while talking to...

No. Damnit. I can't remember her name.

"Aggghhh, let me out of here! What do you want! Why are you holding me in here!"

Silence.

Zach leans close to the "door" and tries to listen for any footsteps or voices on the other side.

Nothing.

"Can I at least use the restroom?", Zach asks as he starts knocking on the door.

Not getting a reply, Zach starts searching around the door looking for an operating mechanism of some sort.

 

[thexar]

[fails will check with a 6]
[IC]"Where the phuq am I? What the hell has happened to me? If this was brought on by too much alcohol, I'll never drink again. This time, I mean it."

OOC: Vincent slinks to a nearby wall, staying close to the floor, putting his back against the wall when he gets there. Then his fingers will probe for cracks, crevices, or panels, something that his mind can lock onto as real, while his feet push him around the room, against the wall. Search: 13 Listen: 18

 

[Friadoc]

[IC]

As Zach thinks about a toilet, a urinal forms out of the wall to the right of the concrete sleeping pad.

It is as if unseen hands form the urinal out of the wall, molding it like wet clay, however upon any inspection the wall and the urinal formed from it are smooth and featureless.

Meanwhile, Vincent hears a muffled sound as he searches the featureless wall for imperfections, of which none are found. The surface of the wall, the concrete sleeping pad, and even the area where the door and wall merge are perfect surfaces, without any seam, crack, or crevice.

While Rollo ties off his gown, the urinal in his wall reforms into the wall, leaving behind only a flat, dry surface as if nothing existed there before, nor was used. However, a washbasin filled with a clear liquid rises from the center of the floor in a fashion similar to the urinal. A low hum is emitted from a shielded vent on the side of the basin closest to the main door, it is warm air blown upwards - obviously for drying your hands.

OOC: Brandon, The muffled noise that Vincent hears is Sam's panic assault upon his door. Nothing to distinct in the sounds, or communicable, but definitely someone shouting and beating upon a surface. Roll another Will DC 16 for Vincent. All, searches of your cells produce an eerie feeling of not only being watched, like a rat in the maze, but the level of perfection for your cells is uncanny.

 

[iamrpgdm]

[IC]

As Zach thinks about a toilet, a urinal forms out of the wall to the right of the concrete sleeping pad.

It is as if unseen hands form the urinal out of the wall, molding it like wet clay, however upon any inspection the wall and the urinal formed from it are smooth and featureless.

[IC]
As Zach knocks on the door he notices movement from the corner of his eye. Zach's hand stops knocking and he leaps back in bewilderment as he sees a urinal form seemingly out of nothing but the wall. His heart rate steadily increases as he stares in awe for what seems like an eternity. The rapid thumping of Zach's heart starts returning to normal after a few minutes as he starts to rationalize what he thinks he just saw.

"That urinal has been there the whole time. I'm just in shock.", Zach thinks to himself while feeling his head for any bumps. Zach moves closer to the urinal to look at it, but remains cautious.

OOC: What exactly is meant by "featureless"? Does the urinal have water in it and a drain like a normal urinal or is it just like you'd be peeing into an empty bowl?