vault113 | INTRODUCTION

INTRO

Vault 113

You wake feeling groggy. You have the distinct sense of oversleeping, even if you may not recall ever going to bed in the first place. And this bed? Definitely not yours, no matter how comfortable it may be. And you'd probably not go to sleep in your street clothes*, right? Well, maybe it's time to smooth out your bedhead and get exploring!

(*or whatever else you were wearing at the last moment you remember)

The first thing you'll notice is the complete absence of windows - are you underground? Though you'll encounter quite a few closed doors, there are some rooms for you to look through and maybe catch your breath in. Maybe it's time for a slushie in the dining room? Impatience won't get you anywhere!

And what's better than a sweet drink to bring strangers together? After all, you're not the only one who's crawled out of bed a little late today. Mingle and don't worry too hard about your current predicament!

((The Mastermind will introduce themselves at 7pm EST real time.))

NAVIGATION

Vault 113: a short-run murdergame

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Ji-Woon slinks out of Room # 1-C and naturally catches sight of his neighbor. He isn't following her, necessarily. Just walking in the same limited, predictable paths they've all been granted. ]

Mind sharing?

[ He inclines his head in response to the wave. He'd prefer coffee, really, but when it leads to good conversation... ]

[ Well, hello, good-looking. Klaasje's smile slants upward, and she inclines her head just as graciously as she slides the slushie to sit between her bar stool and the next one over. She produces an extra straw out of her sleeve and pops it into the slushie beside the one already there, like a magic trick, and never mind why she was stashing a straw away for later. ]

It's too much sugar for me all on my own, anyway.

[ In other words: come on over. ]

[ Ji-Woon slides onto the bar stool, movements smooth. He crosses his legs and props himself up by his left elbow on the bar, his right hand coming to unhook his mask and tuck it into an inside pocket of his jacket. He's even more ethereally pretty than she could have predicted. ]

That's no surprise. You're too sweet already. [ He grins at her and takes the drink to sip from the straw. ] You know, you look right at home. Do you often finding yourself awaking in mysterious bunkers?

[ Lustre: He's prettier than you, charming and graceful. The kind of man the world wants to open doors for, and here you are, washed out and still smelling faintly of old fear-sweat and stale smoke. ]

Mm. More often than's good for me.

[ She toys with her straw, spinning it between her fingertips. ]

And you're sweet, to say that, but I think we both know I look like what the tide dredged up. I'd do something awful for a shower.

It did dredge us both up rather literally though, didn't it?

[ He extends a hand to offer the slushie to her directly, rather than via the stool, and makes a motion with his wrist to draw her attention to the scuffs and dirt on the sleeve of his jacket.

He leans forward, just a little. His voice lowers.] Don't tell anyone... but I think I'd do something awful for a shower just about now, too. Two awful things if laundry's thrown in.

[ Klaasje takes the straw obediently when it's offered, humming agreement around it as she enjoys another sip of violently red, sweet ice crystals. Her eyelashes shade her gaze as she takes in his poor, abused jacket - and then she laughs, a low, surprised ripple that has her covering her mouth with the back of her hand. ]

Your secrets are safe with me, flotsam.

[ Her hand drops to cover her sternum, instead, fingers fanned out over the swell of her ribs as her lungs fill. ]

Here's to this being one of those all-inclusive kind of places...and I didn't even think to look for a chocolate on my pillow.

[ She puts a little arch affectation into the last sentence, an echo of heiresses and trophy wives from the radio dramas. ]

[ ...flotsam? ]

It seems all-inclusive to me -- don't tell me they made a pretty girl like you pay for a drink. Maybe you missed your chocolate. [ His fingers run deftly through his hair before he offers the hand to her, his expression coy and playful. ] I could help you look sometime.

[ Klaasje sets her hand in his daintily, sly amusement shaping the lines of her knowing smile. She knows he knows that she knows what sort of game this is, playful and yet - under these circumstances - charged with something more reckless, dark electricity under the skin.

She can't quite put her finger on it. She wonders if she'll cut herself when she does. ]

A cavalier in lapped armor. Aren't I lucky? [ She so often is. ] If I'm going to be your damsel in a tower, you should call me Klaasje.

[ Ji-Woon turns their hands so that he can bow his head and place soft kiss to her knuckles. He's enjoying the dance of it all, and even with the promise of death hanging in the air around them, she's proving to be quite the terpsichorean. She exhilarates him.

He doesn't come quite all the way up when he lifts his face again, looking up at her with an expression of endearment... and something else simmering just under the surface. ]

Ji-Woon, my lady of the vault. [ And with a subtle wink. ] But you're no damsel, are you?

[ It's been a while since she's been handled so deftly. The last few months, it's been all beer breath and work-calloused hands fumbling at her, while there's been pleasure in that, this is as luxurious as clean, smooth sheets and that imaginary chocolate on her pillow.

She lets her eyes go half-lidded and heavy, tilting her head at an angle that accentuates the lean line of her slim neck. She bestows on him the fullness of her attention, just long enough for him to feel it, before she retracts it to the more socially appropriate distance of interested flirtation. ]

Oh, no. [ She sharpens her smile, hand still resting carelessly in his grasp. ] I'm too worldly to be a damsel. Most women are, as soon as we're out of knee high stockings and pleated skirts.

But it's fun to pretend.

INTRODUCTION

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