![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
WEEK 1 MINGLE
As you sleep, you find your mind plagued with strange dreams. You’re still trapped, of course, there’s no way to avoid that, even in the comfort of your own mind, but you’re alone. Utterly alone. The radios and jukeboxes scattered around the place all spring to life, as if they’re speaking to you directly. On the other end, you see people talk about you. From your own perspective, it can’t have been more than… 48 hours since you were taken. From the perspectives of those on the outside, the times don’t match up nearly so well. It might have been days. It might have been weeks. It might have been months.
The voices discuss you. They discuss the way things have changed. They talk about how you just suddenly disappeared without a trace. Maybe they’re glad, glad that you weren’t around to see what happened without you. Or maybe they’re angry. Maybe they know that it was your fault. If only you’d been there, none of this would have happened. If you’d met up with that friend, they wouldn’t have died. If you’d been there to save her, things would have been different. If you had apologized, maybe… or if you hadn’t abandoned your responsibilities…
You don’t get the specifics either way. Your dream - or vision, it leaves your imagination to do all the work. But there’s one thing you can be absolutely sure of.
You are running out of time.
Well, what’s there to be glum about? The vault is your home now, lovingly prepared by Vault-Tec™! Who cares what some ghosts from the past have to say about you, eh? It’s not like you’ll ever see them again.
And no matter how deeply you were sleeping, The Overseer’s voice sounds out on the intercom and seems to wake you immediately.
“Hello, lovelies. We’ve decided to be extra generous to all of you, so we bring some good news for a change. I’m sure in the last few days, you’ve gotten pretty sick of that walled off little cellblock you’re cramped in, so you’ll be positively giddy to learn that we’ve prepared and unlocked the rest of the first level for you all to explore to your heart’s content. If you’ve given up on ever getting out of here, make yourself at home. If you haven’t, well, there’s plenty of fun and interesting tools to integrate into your work whenever you decide to take advantage the former group’s complete lack of initiative or willpower.
Oh, and before I forget… check the common room before you go.”
With that particularly nasty announcement, you will find that the doors that locked the rest of this floor off to you have all been opened up. And in addition to that, the profiles have been made public, joining the rules as framed pictures in the common room.
And if you wish to contact your Overseer or her robotic assistant, you are free to stop for a chat.
no subject
Ji-Woon considers him, and then offers only: ]
Yes.
no subject
[Briefly, his eyes go cold and dead and angry, but it goes away as he runs a hand through his hair.]
Sorry. I told you it'd be a weird question.
no subject
Give me more to work with.
no subject
I've been dreaming of home. Of what's been happening without me. [Fists? Clenched.] Everything's going to hell.
no subject
no subject
[He maintains eye contact. Chain links... constructing!!!]
It's not the craziest thing to happen, right? There's a giant red panda and a robot that's three million years old, we're all from different worlds and been dragged to some kind of apocalyptic version of America, and I've even gotten hit with some kind of magic spell when I tried to kill her.
[He manages to pack a whoooole lot of hate and murderous intent into a single pronoun.]
How couldn't I believe it? It just makes too much sense.
no subject
You believe all that is possible, but not that our dreams are manipulations? We’re sitting ducks in a killing game, Keiichi, and no one has fallen yet. Don’t you think it’s natural for her to send out a little… encouragement?
[ Ji-Woon breaks their eye contact, turning his attention again to the spinning display of water and color. ]
It doesn’t really matter, does it? Someone will die soon.
no subject
...yeah. [He lets out a breath. Not a sigh, just an exhalation.] You're right. Someone's definitely going to die soon.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[The sound of the washing machines is kind of deafening, isn't it?]
Nick acts like a cop, which is basically asking for it, and Wolfgang is good at getting people to listen to him, so if he's dead he can't help organize the investigation.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Yeah. I don't think we would've been brought here if we weren't... [1500 seconds.] ...deemed capable of murder.
no subject
no subject
I'm not, but neither are you, right? You've been talking about all this way too casually for the idea to have never occurred to you.
no subject
no subject
A friend of mine was being bothered by someone. [An understatement so massive it makes Keiichi want to claw out his own throat.] The rest of us didn't know how to stop him, but I realized that we were all overlooking a pretty simple fact. That he was only alive because we were letting him live.
[1500 seconds. Tick tock, and the sound of closely following footsteps echoes in Keiichi's head.]
And we... I could just decide not to.
no subject
no subject
[An exhalation. These feelings coursing through him won't do him any good, not from a world away.]
What about you?
no subject
What did he do?
no subject
[He's staring at Ji-Woon. Why are you being evasive, fellow fencepost? Fenceposts are meant to be decidedly unevasive creatures. Again, let's try again.]
What about you? When did you realize it was an option?
no subject
You're so much more interesting now, little brother. He'll have his eye on you.
For now, though, Ji-Woon tilts his face away, letting his hair tumble over his forehead. ]
I was a member of NO-SPIN. One of five. We had a day in the studio, up before dawn to record. It was exhausting, and when we broke for lunch, I went off alone. Too a walk.
[ He closes his eyes, he exhales, he performs. ]
I never broke for lunch alone, but they were running behind, and they stayed to keep working... I was done with my parts, mm?, so there was no rush to get back. I was hanging around for morale, give feedback. And when I arrived, the air was thick, the studio was burning, and the doors were barricaded shut by speakers that had fallen from the ceiling.
[ Another pause, a swallow, a concerted effort to keep his voice calm, and level, despite the painful recollection. ]
The fire crew told me later there was a structural issue with the speakers, and when they fell, it started an electrical fire.
[ His posture readjusts, as if bracing himself. ]
But I got there, and they were trapped. They were burning. They were screaming for me for help, but I couldn't move the speakers. I didn't... [ his voice gets quiet, and he confesses: ] I didn't even really try. I was frozen.
It was my fault. I murdered them.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)