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Drama Welcome to PRISON! - Now Accepting New Players!

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  1. Sith-I-5 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Aug 14, 2002
    star 5
    IC: Junior Inspector Emil Karpo, The Vam, courtyard.

    BEFORE

    The pale, gaunt Karpo was in his traditional black. In fact, he could not recall ever wearing any other colour. Well, apart from his threadbare white shirts.

    Listlessly, he listened to the warden tell them that they were prisoners, and while he could not remember arriving here, the probability of him, an investigator in the Yak?s Office of Special Investigation in post-Perestroika Russia, being imprisoned was not that far-fetched.

    His team had long-defied the KGB when it ordered them to back off from criminal cases that it had deemed..., political. Trouble was, the KGB had always had pretty broad parameters for what it considered political, down to shoplifting bottles of vodka from a People?s Off Licence.

    Still, he thought as he glanced back over the heads of his fellow inmates, this island facility was pretty picturesque. Jarred heavily with the obviously polluted oil slick behind the warden?s lecturn; somebody had been careless dragging fuel tanks through here.

    Karpo looked over some of the men on either side of him, but before he could draw any conclusions on them, his attention was drawn to movement behind the warden!

    The Inspector stared past the warden.

    The Inspector stared over the warden.

    The...the... oil slick had risen out of itself like a, a, who knew what?! Forming a glistening black hillock, that tapired into something like a great black tongue several dozen feet tall that tapired towards the top. And swayed. Over the oblivious prison superintendent, and he didn?t think it would stop there!

    Riiight. Half turning away from the sight, Karpo started to politely elbow his way through the throng of prisoners.
    If that thing came down, he did not want to be beneath it!
    ?Excuse me. Gangway. Coming through.?

    * * * *

    Up above, towering over the courtyard, The Vam looked down upon the food, and listened to the morsel that appeared to have taken charge.

    ?This is the Feast of the Vam.? It reminded itself happily, thinking about how it was going to fall upon the person doing all the talking, but so far unaware of its presence.

    ?Any escape attempts will be punished with immediate execution, regardless of whether you've had your Trial of Innocence or not. I'm not your friend, but let me give you a friendly bit of advice... no escape attempt is worth it. It is impossible to escape the Prison. ? The snack was saying.

    ?Yeah, whatever.?

    ?I think that's all I've got to say for now...?

    ?Good timing! Wouldn?t want you to miss my entrance.? The Vam pulsed with anticipation of the coming meal, and slowly leaned forward, casting a shadow over the Warden. ?For this is the Feast of the-?

    ?...oh, wait... there's one other thing. All of you are already dead.?

    ?-eh?? The Vam hesitated.

    * * * *

    NOW

    Karpo sat on one of the moulded plastic chairs in the cafetaria, looking disconsolately down upon at the black-and-white striped prison garb in which he was clothed, his suit and of slightly more concern, his MVD police identification had been taken off him.

    He wondered, not for the first time, what the heck they were doing with a cafeteria, if they were dead. Still, in a KGB prison, they might as well be.

    ?Hello again, prisoners.

    "You will soon receive your cell assignments.
    ?

    The inspector did not look up, but silently hoped that he got a room with a member of the Russian Mafia.
    His flame-haired girlfriend, Mathilde, had died in a Mafia crossfire on the streets of Moscow, and he would make certain that no such individual reached their trial.

    ?Have to be a big cell? The Vam groused from the back of the room, where, dead and bodiless, he had managed to squeeze between floor and ceiling.
    His mass looked like a folded over bit of new sod writ large. A single
  2. Mitth_Fisto Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 29, 2005
    star 6
    IC: Lord Dark Helmet
    Cafeteria

    His rhythmic breathing, rasping through his black and white striped helmet filled the air around him.

    This was most disturbing. He was dead. . .hypothetically speaking at least since he wasn't about to jump off a cliff to find out. . .maybe he could push someone else off. Hmmm. Rubbing the side of his helmet he thought, enjoying the potential images.

    Maybe later, right now he had to figure out why he was being tried and whether or not he could still catch Lonestar's trial. Perhaps as a character whitness? What a simple thing that would be to muddy.

    Maybe perusing the library would reveal what had happened to his arch nemisis, and whether or not Princess Vespa looked like the hag her original nose suggested she would turn into. Not to mention the indication of her refusal of him for that looser that dared to Jam him using Raspberry! Then he could see about getting out of here.

    Who was here though? Before heading to find the library he wanted to know. Unfortunately besides a few vaguely familiar faces there were none that really stood out.

    The deep intonations grew from his helmet, as his deep baritone called out, "Anyone know where the little Helmets room is?" Either way earlier ideas had to wait, he had to get a little privacy. He was dying in this thing!

    TAG: Any
  3. GrandAdmiralJello Moderator Communitatis Litterarumque

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 28, 2000
    star 10
    Prison Cafeteria

    Iulia Caesaris filia Imperatoris Caii Iulii Caesaris Augusti


    A floor, a ceiling, and some walls were all that she could identify in her current situation. A disembodied voice spoke words she couldn't understand, and she was certain that she was wearing a garment woven by Polyphemus; it appeared to be made of cotton, but only a blinded Cyclops could have created this hideous color pattern of black and white stripes.

    The emperor's daughter touched her face, somewhat relieved to feel it smooth and wrinkle-free. That's right... Marcellus had just died, not much more than a year ago. Her father would have been ruling for near 9 years, and she was seventeen and still possessed of the divine beauty that had caused many cities to erect statues of her as the goddess Venus herself. It was gratifying to know even in death she still had her beauty, although obviously this building was devoid of any such lifelike charms and graces. Tartarus, to her recollection, was supposed to be terrifying--she wondered if the sheer ugliness of this place was what they had meant.

    There were people around, but none of them appeared to be of note orsubstance. She couldn't quite hear their murmering, and was unsure if they were speaking some barbarian tongue or simply had the language skills of a mentally impaired rodent. She felt bad for thinking so unkindly of people she didn't even know, but she really could not make any sense of what they were saying.

    "haitis lupai eleusontai emein?" she muttered, before sitting herself down at a table slightly closer to the others but far enough to flee from them if they proved dangerous.


    OCC: I'm not sure if we're supposed to understand each other or not, so... if not, then your character needs to understand Attic Greek to figure out what she said--"what pains now come for me?"

    I'm also not sure if it's possible to take characters BEFORE they're dead, but I did so. Let me know if they still need to be aware of the rest of their lives or not.
  4. spycoder9 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jul 23, 2008
    star 4
    OOC: My mind isn?t working right now. Post coming tomorrow.
  5. solojones Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 27, 2000
    star 9
    IC: Benjamin Linus

    As Ben shook the other man's hand, he heard something curious off to his left. His ever-attentive ears perked up. At first he thought he might be imagining something. But no, that was definitely Attic Greek. He'd studied it on his own, knew it well enough to read the classics at any rate.

    Ben turned to see who had said the words. It was a young woman, 16 or 17 he'd guess, with wavy brown hair and classically beautiful features. For the barest moment, a flood of memories flashed through his mind. For a split second, his careful mask of a face fell. Alex, he thought as he recalled his daughter, near the same age when she'd...

    Just as quickly as the sentiment had come on, Ben threw it out. This wasn't his daughter. Just some teenager. Some teenager who'd apparently warranted capture and imprisonment by whatever power. Ben wasn't quite sure some girl muttering in ancient Greek would be that helpful an ally. Then again, there was something quite intriguing about her.

    "Was that Greek?" Ben asked the other man. By way of explanation, he added, "I studied classics in school. I do a lot of travel writing relating to ancient archaeology sites, that sort of thing." It was a passable explanation, he hoped.

    Ben turned to the girl. "You speak Greek?" he asked. When she stared back, he got a strange feeling. It made no sense, of course, for this young woman to speak nothing but a dead language. Yet Ben had seen far stranger things. In halting Greek, he repeated the question. He'd never actually had much opportunity to speak Greek aloud as he'd used it mostly for reading. Inwardly, he cursed his sloppy pronunciation.

    Ben pursed his lips. He had another thought. If this young woman really were from some classic era, there was a much better way to communicate with her. He glanced quickly at the man beside him, wondering what he would think of this. It was probably a stupid risk to take, giving away too much about himself. Still, he felt compelled to speak with the girl.

    "Do you speak Latin as well as you speak Greek?" he asked in fluent, well-practiced Latin.


    TAG: Julia, Indy


    OOC: Jay you are glad there are two of us here who can communicate with your character :p
  6. GrandAdmiralJello Moderator Communitatis Litterarumque

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 28, 2000
    star 10
    Prison Cafeteria

    Iulia Caesaris filia Imperatoris Caii Iulii Caesaris Augusti


    One person reacted instantly, and appeared to be probing her with deep, guileless blue eyes. But as placid as his expression was, as affable his demeanor, Julia saw right through it. She was her father's daughter, and he had used acting talents of that caliber to seize command of the entire world. He was a snake masquerading as a lamb; and so was this man.

    The only question was if he was a viper or some lesser species, devious out of a need for survival but not altogether threatening. She knew the type, but not the specifics. What she did know is that such a man would be guarded, and not easily give away secrets. That was fine, she could play the game too.

    It was comforting, really. A familarity of a sort.

    After the man barked in some strange tongue, he spoke again in halting Greek. He'd murmured some barbaric nonsense--'do you speak, Greek?' She bridled, thinking for a moment the man thought her to be Greek--did he not see her fine, Roman nose? It was only after he asked his question in Latin that she realized that he must have been trying to ask her if she spoke the Greek tongue, but had accidentally used the adjective instead.

    His Latin was far better, if painful to the ears.

    "Your accent is atrocious," she remarked pleasantly in the smoothest patrician accent, "but I can quite understand, yes." She hoped it didn't come across at mean, but it would not be such a terrible thing, as she'd learned from her father that a man's pride is a delicate thing--puncture it, and all his secrets might leak out in his zeal to defend himself.


    OCC: Fine, I'll post in straight English :p
  7. Asterix_of_Gaul Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 13, 2007
    star 5
    IC: BLONDIE

    Blondie scrapes his thumb across the top of a match, igniting a small orange flame sheltered behind his left hand--the subsequent glow illuminates a sandy beard and the tilted brim of a brown tattered hat. Shadows softly dance across a dirty serape as he lifts the match to a freshly-rolled cigarillo hanging from his lips--jaw set firm. Aside from the small crackle of the flame, which he passively shakes out, small beads of sweat and blood pit pat against the ground. His left eye is swollen and blood is gently slipping through the bristles of his beard. He exhausts a smooth jet of smoke and leans silently against the dark wall of an otherwise indistinguishable location.

    His shoulders slump, and the cigarillo drops from his mouth.

    Blondie gasps: "...Tuco."

    He collapses into darkness.


    CAFETERIA

    WARDEN:

    "Hello again, prisoners."

    "You will soon receive your cell assignments."

    "For now, feel free to wander about. There is a small but decidedly exhaustive library around here somewhere. The front doors are also open, so you can stroll down to the beach on the south side of the island, but be careful you don't fall off any cliffs. Not that you'll die, it'll just be inconvenient. You could also hike up to the the lighthouse, if you like, or explore some of the myriad buildings of the entire compound. My favorite is an old ruin on the east side of the island. It used to be a church. Ah, well, I shouldn't talk like that. It is still a church. Rotted pews overgrown by ivy and lack of a ceiling do not unmake a church. Don't get hopeful now- spending all your time in the church won't soften me up. There's only one way to prove your innocence around here- at trial."

    "And don't be surprised if you ever see other people on the grounds. I mean, besides yourselves the prisoners, of course. Sometimes, someone just turns up and then vanishes never to be heard from again. It's perfectly normal."

    "Oh- before I forget- don't forget to visit the greenhouse. It's the only spot on the island that the sun shines through the clouds. Besides basking in the sunlight, smelling the flowers is highly recommended. Depending on the outcome of your trial, this may be your last opportunity to do so."

    *loudspeaker squelches off*

    BLONDIE

    The shrill voice ringing in his ears, Blondie exits the cafeteria, clutching at his eye--stumbling past the other prisoners. He breaks into a run--disoriented, his head stinging. Despite gray skys, Blondie can't seem to get the sun off the back of his neck...the heat...it's the feeling...his neck is burning, and now he can feel it like the twist of a noose--hard itchy twine scraping against his entire body, and his legs are sinking like molten lead--his eyes roll into the back of his head...Blondie collapses.

    LIGHTHOUSE


    There is a sharp crash. Blondie jumps to his feat thinking it to be a gunshot and nearly stumbles over a cliff reaching for his gun. His hand brushes across striped slacks--no belt, no gun. He falls back from the cliff and grasps at his face--the swollen eye has subsided. Waves are crashing against the rocks below and he can hear a faint hum. To his right is a lighthouse.

    Stumbling to his feet, he manages to reach the monolith. Using the structure for balance, he inches around the base sliding his palms against the rough exterior. He nearly falls over as his fingertips slide in towards the wall--a small opening.

    He enters the lighthouse and slips ankle-deep into a small pool of rain-water. In front of him--a spiral staircase. He climbs it.

    Gazing out from atop the lighthouse, he notices a coastline--stormy seas, gray skies...no one else in sight.

    Blondie: "...."

    He squints.

    TAG: ANYONE
  8. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 6
    IC: Indiana Jones
    Cafeteria, the Island

    Death was but one adventure Indiana Jones had yet to conquer throughout his illustrious career and it was one that he prefer to stay that way. Despite several brushes with the supernatural and the unexplained, he was not anxious to answer the age-old question of whether something existed out there beyond death - a Heaven or a Hell. Something like that hinged on faith; he had faith, but he was also a scientist. He was after fact and discovery - to actually see things in order to believe them. It was that part of him - his professional side - that remained a skeptic.

    And that's how he approached this latest problem.

    His mind had been a blur since arriving here and he had no recollection of how or when any of this had happened. He was just there...until a gruff voice over a loudspeaker spoke of fate, innocence and death. It was that last bit that had really caught his attention. If this is what it was like to be dead, than it really wasn't all that bad. But of course, the voice had been speaking metaphorically - one look at his surroundings confirmed that. It was a prison, complete with inmates and the voice had only been comparing this current existence to death because in a sense, they were in fact dead to the world. No one got out unless proven innocent. The man made sense and Indy allowed himself a knowing smile until the reality of the situation fully sunk in...

    He was in prison, but why?

    Actually, maybe that question wouldn't be as hard to answer as he thought. Grave robbing was a known crime and God knows how many times he had been accused of that. Not to mention the long list of property damage and countless other laws he had broken along the way. He had believed himself lucky to avoid the consequences of his actions so far...maybe his luck had finally run out.

    You're going to have a fine time trying to explain your way out of this one... he thought to himself as he lifted a hand to massage his temple. That's when he noticed a wiry man with dark hair approaching out of the corner of his eye.

    "This is all a little dramatic, don't you think?" the man remarked, picking at the black and white striped garment draping over his arm. Indy straightened at the man's approach and looked down at his own attire, noticing that he, too, was wearing the prison garb and frowned. "I mean, it's ridiculous, don't you think? I'm a travel writer for God's sake. What could they possibly want with me? And what about you?"

    A hint of a smile turned up one corner of his mouth ever slightly. "Well, I can think of a few things..." he noted nonchalantly. "None of them are sure to help our situation."

    "Oh, we shouldn't let prison strip us of our manners," the man continued after a moment, extending a hand. "Dean Moriarty."

    Indy eyed the man for a long moment, storing the name away into his memory before grasping the outstretched hand with a nod. "Indiana Jones," he said evenly. "You, uh...said you were a writer?"

    But the man was distracted, drawn to something else off to the side. Not having a second thought, Indy turned to follow his gaze and made eye contact with a beautiful young woman with stately features. She appeared far different from the others gathered around them and that feeling was only heightened when she spoke.

    Greek. Interesting. So, that was what drew the man, Dean, to this woman. That would be enough to draw himself to such a specimen as well.

    "I studied classics in school," Dean was saying to the woman. "I do a lot of travel writing relating to ancient archaeology sites, that sort of thing."

    Indy's brow shot up at the revelation, arms crossing causally over his chest as he studied Dean intently. He now had more questions and part of him just wanted the woman to hurry up and respond so he could ask them. Maybe both of them being here was not a coincidence, but some sort of link. He had to know.

    "Your accent is atrocious," the woman replied in flue
  9. solojones Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 27, 2000
    star 9
    IC: Benjamin Linus

    The other man seemed extremely calm, almost amused by the situation they found themselves in. It was a quality Ben could respect. Although Ben wasn't quite sure how to take the calculated stare the man fixed him with. He simply smiled in response, hiding the slight flicker of warning behind his eyes. Whoever this man was, he was smart. Ben would have to be careful.

    "Indiana Jones," he said evenly. "You, uh...said you were a writer?"

    Ben quirked an eyebrow at the odd name, but before he could respond, they were distracted by the young woman. As Ben began speaking to the young woman, he knew Indiana was watching him. He didn't even need to turn around. The man's gaze was practically burning a hole in his back. Ben pretended not to notice. Inwardly, a part of Ben cursed himself for taking the chance of revealing his language skills. But the ship had sailed now, and all he could do was try to steer it the direction he liked.

    Finally, the young woman responded. "Your accent is atrocious," she said with a sweetness that felt a bit patronizing. Ben, attempting to remain in character as a cheerful travel writer, took it in stride. "But I can quite understand, yes." Ben listened carefully to her speech. It was certainly more patrician. Having not trained classically but only learning through immersion, Ben could see how his accent might sound lowly. Actually, it might work to his advantage. Lowering expectations was precisely what he'd hoped to do before he'd veered off into this Latin territory. Ben chose to see this as an advantageous situation.

    He still, however, bristled a bit when Indiana patted him on the shoulder and stepped past, saying he'd handle it. Ben's mouth tightened slightly, and he reminded himself of how useful this kind of attitude might be. Most people were guarded around Benjamin Linus; they felt more comfortable with Dean Moriarty. More likely to open up and share critical information that might lead to Ben getting out of this situation.

    Ben was not prepared for Indiana to speak Latin as well. His accent seemed carefully studied, clearly learned from books and most likely ivy league universities. Well, it certainly helped confirm the assessment of the man's intelligence.

    As much as Ben would have liked the ability to steer the conversation, Indiana appeared to have the same questions he did. ["Then maybe you could answer a few questions. Do you understand anything about what happened here? How you got here and why you're here?Do you have a name?"] the other man demanded of the girl.

    Ben masked the fact that he was watching both their expressions closely, instead playing up his surprise. "Wow, evidently everyone here speaks Latin. That's funny," he said in English, for Indiana's benefit. "Which makes me wonder what exactly you do, Mr. Jones?" he kept his tone conversational, wowed, interested. He left the interrogations for his own mind.

    Turning toward the young woman, Ben added, in Latin, ["Oh, how rude of me. I take it you don't speak English. I'm Dean Moriarty, by the way."] He extended a hand and waited for her response to Indiana's questions.

    TAG: Indy, Julia

  10. Spaceman_Spiff Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Nov 30, 2001
    star 4
    IC Darth Vader:

    "Oh- before I forget- don't forget to visit the greenhouse. It's the only spot on the island that the sun shines through the clouds. Besides basking in the sunlight, smelling the flowers is highly recommended. Depending on the outcome of your trial, this may be your last opportunity to do so."

    As the speaker squelched off, I thought about what this ?warden? had said. It was all nonsense, of course. There would be no trial today. The Emperor?s agent was not to be judged by his inferiors. I planned to stride to the front of the room, but as I began to move forward, I saw a flash of white and realized, with a kind of sick horror, that it was my hand. Somebody had painted white stripes onto my armor in an alternating pattern. My captors? idea of a joke, surely, but I was not amused. They could not rob me of my dignity, no matter what they tried.

    I moved forward again, pushing through the crowd without apology, since they did not deign to show me the proper respect and get out of the way. Then I was in front of all.

    I addressed the crowd. ?Rest assured, whoever has brought me here will not live to regret it.? I searched through the Force, but I found no signs of duplicity and terror beyond what one might normally experience in a situation such as this. No one stood out as one of my captors. ?Those who help me to escape will be handsomely rewarded. Those who stand in my way will be destroyed.? It was a necessary lie. None who had borne witness to my having been so easily captured could be allowed to live. All within this building must die. ?You do not wish to feel my wrath, or that of the Emperor.?

    The first step in getting out of here would be to get my lightsaber back. I would go nowhere without it. Of course, they had also taken my comm, but I was sure to find a way to contact Sidious soon enough.

    "As for you . . ." This last was said to the abomination in the oversized helmet. I lifted my hand, preparing to choke the life out of him.

    TAG: Dark Helmet, plus everyone else
  11. Yodaminch Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Mar 6, 2002
    star 6
    IC: Jack Bauer

    The young man shook Jack's hand after a brief pause. Most wouldn't even notice the pause. But Jack did. He was being analyzed. There was something about this kid that was off. He seemed too young to be here and yet he moved carefully, eying everything just like Jack had done. Perhaps he was a soldier. Or perhaps he had a family member who had been in law enforcement or with the government. Or, perhaps the kid was naturally suspicious. It was too hard to tell by just one look. But Jack made a note to keep an eye on him.

    He was jolted out of his thoughts by a commotion from the other prisoners. While two men were talking to a young woman in a language that sounded to Jack like Latin, an oddly dressed man seemed to be making some noise.

    Anyone know where the little Helmets room is?

    Jack eyed the speaker carefully. The guy wore what looked like a giant Hazmat helmet. Did that mean they had been exposed to something? Jack went through a mental checklist to determine if any of his bodily functions were off. He wasn't shaking, breathing was normal. He had lost his memory though. But only short term. That could have been from being knocked out or drugged. He then examined the other prisoners. None seemed to be showing any outward signs of toxic exposure. Perhaps this odd man had just been overly cautious.

    As he thought this, another loud voice rang out in the cafeteria.

    Rest assured, whoever has brought me here will not live to regret it.

    That got Jack's attention. He looked over to see a man that looked like a zebra. The man was wearing black armor but it was painted in alternating white stripes. Jack could tell the man, who also looked like he was wearing a hazmat suit, was far from amused.

    Those who help me to escape will be handsomely rewarded. Those who stand in my way will be destroyed.

    Well, at least they had a common goal. But Jack had been an agent for a long time and he knew that this guy was clearly up to no good. If someone had told him that zebraman was a terrorist, Jack wouldn't have batted an eye. The man carried an air of importance about him.

    You do not wish to feel my wrath, or that of the Emperor.

    At those words, Jack froze. There was only one country he knew of with an Emperor. And that was Japan. So whoever had abducted them, had abducted a former CTU agent from America and possibly an Agent from Japan. That could mean this was indeed a black ops prison as he suspected. Which was all the motivation Jack needed to get out of this place as quickly as possible.

    As for you . . .

    Jack noticed the man had raised his hand and was beckoning toward the man with the large hazmat helmet.

    Shaking it off for the moment, Jack returned his attention to the young man and realized he hadn't given his name.

    ?Jack Bauer? he said. He then leaned in a bit close and said ?I'm looking to escape and could use some help.?


    IC: Terry McGinnis

    The other man had been watching the commotion from other prisoners as Terry had. He was particularly amused by the two in odd headgear. They definitely looked like someone he'd be pummeling in Gotham.

    Jack Bauer the man said, indicating his name. He then leaned in a bit closer so others couldn't hear

    I'm looking to escape and could use some help

    ?Terry..? Terry hesitated for a moment, then said ?Wayne?

    The old man had taught him never to reveal his identity. But using Wayne's name also had the benefit of seeing if there was any name recognition. After all, Bruce Wayne was a billionaire and well known in Gotham, Metropolis and much of the country.

    When the man's eyes didn't flicker with any recognition but instead suspicion, Terry steeled himself. This guy seemed to know he was lying about something. But he simply nodded at the name.

    ?What did you have in mind?? Terry asked, deciding to change the subject.

    Jack looked around indicating the exits nearby

    ?We need to find some blindspots in their surveillance. If we know how they are monitoring us and where, we can escape. But we also ne/>
  12. ophelia Cards Against Humanity Host. Ex-Mod

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    Jun 25, 2002
    star 6
    IC: Antryg Windrose

    Antryg was disoriented, apparently in prison, and hearing disembodied voices.

    Again.

    His eyes widened behind their round spectacle lenses in momentary panic, and he reached up as if to tear at some monstrous thing around his throat. The gesture was almost immediately checked, and his long, crooked fingers remained motionless, splayed inches from his neck.

    If the Sigil of Darkness were still there, sucking at his magic and his life like an obscene, leaden tick, he did not want to touch it. Instead, he ran his fingers back though the unkempt mass of his graying auburn hair and gingerly pressed his fingertips against the nape of his neck. He felt his way downward, one knobby vertebra at a time, until he reached the flesh of his back. Relief flooded him--the crudely-wrought iron collar was gone. Despite the disembodied voice's mention of a church, it appeared that he was no longer in Church custody.

    Of course, the voice had also claimed he was dead. This was a worrisome thought, but Antryg chose not to take the statement at face value. Experience had taught him not to place too much faith in others' ability to tell when someone was dead, particularly if that someone were a wizard. He certainly didn't feel dead. He would have checked the nearest mirrored surface to see if he'd grown stiff and glassy-eyed like the cannibal revenants in "Night Of The Living Dead," but whoever had decorated this cafeteria-prison had done all its metal surfaces in a tasteful matte finish.

    Recollection of that Midnite Movie brought back memories of the comfort of Joanna's broken-in couch, the croupy purring of Chainsaw the cat, and of Joanna herself: sleepy, an old T-shirt and pajama pants crumpled over her petitely voluptuous figure, lying curled within the circle of his arm as snugly as if the two of them had been mated puzzle pieces. The thought of her brought a stab of longing anxiety almost as keen as his initial fear. Where was she? Had the Warden done something with her? What would happen to her, now that he was no longer able to protect her?

    One good glance around the room triggered Antryg's equivalent of rational thought. This place was grim. A prison, the Warden had said, along with something about being "executed, broken in two and cast into oblivion." The other people here--mostly men, mostly hard-looking--were not a reassuring crew. And of course there was the blob in the corner with many eyes on stalks. Antryg had been to enough alien universes not to be troubled by other beings' appearances, but he could just imagine Joanna's instinctive reaction to the oozing, gelatinous thing. Antryg hadn't exactly helped such matters, considering the class of entity he usually exposed her to. The farther she is from you, the safer she is, he reminded himself.

    Some of the hard-looking men, as well as a young girl, had begun introducing themselves to one another. Some spoke English, which Antryg had a basic command of, and others definitely did not. He had a try at casting the Spell of Tongues about the group, since being dead and working magic were in no way mutually exclusive.

    The spell seemed to work, at least for himself--he caught the end of what appeared to be a series of threats made by an enormous man entirely encased in black armor: ?You do not wish to feel my wrath, or that of the Emperor. As for you . . ."

    Antryg sincerely hoped that he and the armored man knew different wrathful Emperors. Rather than staying close enough to find out, the tall, gawky wizard made his way over to where two men were talking to the girl.

    He hoped his limited English would do. "Excuse me, but I've been hearing a disturbing voice in my head. I don't suppose any of you have been getting telepathic threats from a person calling himself the Warden . . . ?"

    --------------
    Tag: Indy, Ben, Julia, Any.

    OOC: Antryg has just attempted to cast a spell on you that will allow you to communicate from mind to mind, like a Babel fish. If you don't wan
  13. Spaceman_Spiff Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Nov 30, 2001
    star 4
    IC Bender:

    Bender did not know how he had ended up here, and he lost interest in what the voice over the speaker was saying within two seconds. He had more pressing concerns, so when he saw two meatbags talking nearby, heading out the door, he immediately stepped in between them and said, "Hey losers, unless you're talking about me, your conversation isn't too important. The only thing to focus on right now is: Have you seen any beer around?"

    What kind of cafeteria did not have a bar? Was he supposed to handle whatever was going on here sober? Perish the thought.

    TAG: Jack Bauer, Terry McGinnis
  14. Yodaminch Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Mar 6, 2002
    star 6
    IC: Jack Bauer

    As Jack and Terry began moving towards the door, they were stopped by a giant metal trashcan with arms and legs. At least, that was the best that Jack could describe it. He'd seen some odd things, but this was way beyond any terrorist or government weapon that he'd dealt with. It looked like it belonged with the two men in odd hazmat outfits. If that wasn't enough, it began to speak!

    "Hey losers, unless you're talking about me, your conversation isn't too important. The only thing to focus on right now is: Have you seen any beer around?"

    Jack didn't even both paying attention to the strange machine and blurted out instead

    "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

    Tag: Bender


    IC: Terry McGinnis

    Terry watched in fascination as a robot came up to him and Jack demanding to know if there was any beer nearby. This robot was certainly not like Zeta. Where as Zeta was polite and courteous, this robot was rude and loud. In addition, he seemed to be a very early prototype compared to Zeta. He lacked many of Zeta's advancements and seemed to move more awkwardly. He smirked as Jack asked the robot "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

    Terry added "Sorry, haven't seen any beer. I could use one though." That seemed to draw a strange look from Jack who could probably tell the boy was not even close to the drinking age yet. He shrugged and continued "We're taking a look around the place. Wanna come with and see if they stashed beer anywhere?"

    He paused and then said "I'm Terry and that's Jack"

    Tag: Bender, Any/>
  15. WINKWINK Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Dec 15, 2008
    star 1
    IC alex Mercer

    I don't remember much after that, it's all... hazy. Makes me wonder if this "Warden" had anything to do with that.



    Alex was watching everything unfold when he could suddenly understand every word being said. Startled, he got up from the chair he had been sitting in and put his back to a wall.

    That's when he heard what the tall one in the painted armor was saying. About to be a fight, we don't need that now and with that conclusion he started towards the man, changing his clothes back to his usual stylized jacket hoody and jeans. For some reason the warden had changed everything except his shoes. Arrogant, I'll have to play the subordinate He thought, studying the man as he approached.

    "Hey, I don't know what your about to do, but is this really the time for this?"
    Alex said to get his attention.

    He then looked at the shorter man "Besides, does it really look like he could stand in anybody's way?". Alex was not very good at playing the subordinate.




    ...my sister. what happened to you? I can't remember.



    TAG Spiff, Mitth-fisto.
    />/>
  16. Spaceman_Spiff Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Nov 30, 2001
    star 4
    IC Darth Vader:

    As I began to use the Force to squeeze shut the abomination?s esophagus, someone came up to me and said, ?Hey, I don't know what your about to do, but is this really the time for this?" After a moment, he continued. "Besides, does it really look like he could stand in anybody's way?"

    ?This does not concern you.? I turned my head slightly to study the one who interfered. The man wore a hooded cloak like a Jedi, which immediately piqued my interest, but he exhibited no Force powers. ?At least, not yet, though I can make it your concern, if you wish.? My attention then went to three humans near me who were standing together talking: two men and a woman, all in myriad styles of dress. One of them even had a whip, but not of the light variety. Who even used such these days?

    I gestured to the hooded interloper as I addressed the three. ?Keep that one away from me until after I?ve disposed of this one, unless you wish to watch two die today.?

    TAG: Dark Helmet, Alex, Indy, Julia, Linus


    IC Bender:

    When Bender got between them, the sandy-haired meatbag blurted out, "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

    ?What, you?ve never seen a robot before? Where have you been living, you bozo? Amishlandia IV??

    The younger meatbag then said, ?Sorry, haven't seen any beer. I could use one though.We're taking a look around the place. Wanna come with and see if they stashed beer anywhere?" He paused and added, "I'm Terry and that's Jack"

    ?If I cared what your names were, I would have asked. Or made up my own: Meatbag One and Meatbag Two.? To the younger guy, he said, ?Let?s find some beer, Nancy.?

    TAG: Terry, Jack/>
  17. Yodaminch Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Mar 6, 2002
    star 6
    IC: Jack Bauer


    ?What, you?ve never seen a robot before? Where have you been living, you bozo? Amishlandia IV??


    Jack suddenly had an urge to knock out this robot. Nevermind the headache he had caused by this revelation. He also noticed one guy changing his clothes like magic. He was starting to worry he'd hallucinated from one of his wounds but decided it would be best to focus on that later.

    He looked over the robot and briefly wondered if it could float.

    IC: Terry McGinnis

    ?If I cared what your names were, I would have asked. Or made up my own: Meatbag One and Meatbag Two. Let?s find some beer, Nancy.?

    "Terry" he corrected, "And uh what do we call you?"

    He noticed that Jack had a look that could melt steel in his eyes. Clearly he was contemplating how to harm their robot companion. Or rather how to use him for his escape. The thought had occurred to Terry as well.

    "I don't suppose you happen to be a killer robot with a few weapons we can borrow?" Terry asked as they began to make their way out of the cafeteria and into the hall.

    Tag: Bender, Any
    />
  18. Mitth_Fisto Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 29, 2005
    star 6
    IC: Lord Dark Helmet

    Looking over at the person who had come up, rhythmic breathing miming his own in mockery, the person began to make a gesture. So much for the fan club idea, for a moment he had thought a race of giants with really tiny heads had started one, that or else began worshiping his greatness.

    "As for me what!? You haven't got the helmet to do anything. Why I am unrivaled in my mastery of the down-side of the Swartz!" raising his own hand in what the other thought of as mimicky he slowly turned it face down and made a fist. He might not have the ring with him, but he was still a wielder of the Swartz!

    Turning his head slightly he looked at the interloper, "Which means yes, yes I could stand in somebodies way. Especially now that I'm not surrounded by Morons or President Skroob! Which isn't really that much of a distinction, considering the Spaceball genepool." Speaking of which, what had happened? It was all so. . .fuzzy.

    As he took a step forward he spoke out to whomever this mockery had spoke to. "Also, don't stay out of it. Although I don't need your help, I would appreciate any moral support or obsticles you could supply." he quickly added to the others as he took in that despite the tiny helmet, the fella definately had height on him.

    TAG: Darth Vader, Alex, Indy, Julia, Linus

    OOC: Used Moron's instead of A-bleep, due to remembered board etiquette. . .if you know it feel free to substitute the true last name in your minds[face_whistling]
  19. Asterix_of_Gaul Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 13, 2007
    star 5
    BLONDIE

    Having surveyed much of the island from the top of the lighthouse, Blondie calmly makes his way back to the cafeteria.

    CAFETERIA

    Once inside, he notices that several of the prisoners are beginning to act...on edge.

    He walks towards a punch bowl in the corner, never taking his eyes off the situation, and sips from the ladle.

    Taking particular interest in the dark rodeo clown and tall asthmatic demon, Blondie squints

    TAG: ANYONE
  20. Spaceman_Spiff Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Nov 30, 2001
    star 4
    IC Bender:

    "Terry.? The young human corrected, then continued with, ?And uh what do we call you?"

    ?I?m Bender, Julie. You haven?t had enough chitchat yet? Beer me!?

    As they walked toward the exit, the boy said, "I don't suppose you happen to be a killer robot with a few weapons we can borrow?"

    ?Only my wickedly sharp wit. It cuts like a knife, and it feels so right. Oh yeah, and my arms and legs are pretty heavy, too. What?s it to you??

    To the meatbag called Jack, he said, ?So buddy, you want to make yourself useful for once in our relationship and tell me you managed to smuggle in some cigars? I sure could use one.?

    He chuckled. ?I?m just joshing you, pal. I mean, when I think about where you would have had to hide them, no thanks.?

    Tag: Bender, Any
  21. WINKWINK Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Dec 15, 2008
    star 1
    IC Alex Mercer

    I remember the cities I went to after I left Manhattan. Not there names, just impressions of being in a mass of people, their genetics screaming at me to meld with them, explore them. Become them. I resisted this urge for the most part



    Considering the short ones apparent willingness to except help for a moment Alex turned back to the tall man in the stripe armor. Why is he rasping like that?
    "Actually it is my concern for the moment" he gestured to everyone around the room "We don't know whats going on or who might be of use, so either alienating or removing someone from the situation right now might be a... mistake" Alex said looking to the other to include him in that statement.

    Then he smiled "and have either of you realized that we can understand each other, even though I've been speaking gibberish this entire time?".

    So much for being the subordinate.




    This warden, how did he do this? how could he capture ME? My memories of my lives are unclear, more so than before. Did he do this? I need to understand.




    TAG Spiff, Mitt.

    OCC I am of course referring to Ophelia's spell. It'd work with a babble fish so hey, why not? and yes I'm assuming neither Helmet nor Vader would speak English. And I hope I'm not pushing you guys into excepting the spell working on you.../>/>/>
  22. GrandAdmiralJello Moderator Communitatis Litterarumque

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 28, 2000
    star 10
    OOC: ophie, I don't understand how your spell works. Is communication still verbal, but understanding communicated mentally, or is it straight telepathy? I don't want to get it wrong, so I'll set my post just before yours, and whoever replies to my tag can address both of us, I guess.


    Prison Cafeteria

    Iulia Caesaris filia Imperatoris Caii Iulii Caesaris Augusti


    Din Moriarti? What sort of name was that? It sounded like the sound a dog would make if it was coughing up cement.

    She wasn't at all sure who these people were, nor what they were doing here. Whether they were her captors or fellow prisoners was beyond her, but she knew better than to reveal who she really was. It was tempting, it was, but anyone who would kidnap her would have already known that they were to become the emperor's enemies. Further, whoever kidnapped her would already know who she was--and if they didn't, she was not about to tell them.

    The rugged looking fellow--whose Latin had a very curious syntax--had asked her who she was, and the creepy fellow had extended his hand to her. Who were these people, and why were they so interested in her? She decided to be wary.

    "[My name is Corinna]," she said, using the pseudonym Ovid used in his poems for his beloved puella docta. She didn't take the man's hand--that would have been completely inappropriate. "[I cannot tell you anything about this place--I have just arrived here and everything seems completely unfamiliar.]"



    TAG: sj, ophie, and HS29
  23. ophelia Cards Against Humanity Host. Ex-Mod

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    Jun 25, 2002
    star 6
    [OOC]: The spell truly works just like a Babel fish, for those who know that plot device. It works only on spoken words. It does not give special insight into the minds of other people, but it does accurately convey the meanings of words that have no cognates in the listener's language. The rest of us may "get" what Vader means by "Jedi," for instance, even if the very concept of "Jedi" does not exist in our worlds.

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

    IC: Antryg Windrose

    Antryg watched the young woman pointedly ignore the hand that had been offered to her as if it had been a lewd invitation. At a guess, she was someone like himself, brought up in a society far less egalitarian than Joanna's California. If she were a member of the upper classes in her world, she was probably hoping for the appearance of a person of quality to introduce the strangers to her, or else praying a suitably intimidating lackey would heave them up by their shirt collars and toss them into the street.

    Suddenly Antryg recalled what the armored man had said about the wrath of the Emperor. He could only hope that the gleaming black entity was not the lackey sent to guard this beautiful and apparently privileged teenage girl.

    ------

    Tag: Iellulia, Ben, Indy, any
  24. Zedd-Vega Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Dec 13, 2003
    star 5
    Loke

    Prison Isle, Church


    "Wow, what a dump." Loke said as he kicked free some of the undergrowth, having made some startling time on his way to the spot that seemed of interest to the Warden. Whether or not Loke believed the man existed however, was altogether the last thing on his mind. He sighed, pushing away some of the ruined lumber and plantlife that had accumulated over time before entering the center aisle of the church.

    "Not so sure what the Warden sees in this place," Loke commented as he paced the pews, trying to find some trace of existence beyond that of the prisoners. He'd not made introductions with any of them, and despite the ladies that were present, the celestial spirit had little time to court ladies at this time. He lifted his sunglasses, peering up at the dull gray of the clouds, smirking just a little.

    "So much for 'going into the light', heh..."


    TAG: Any headed to the Church


    Kanji Tatsumi

    Prison Isle, Cliff overlooking the sea


    "PERSONA!" Kanji yelled as he tried to summon forth his power. Nothing.

    "PERSONA!" His voice seemed more desperate as he broke into a sweat. "C'mon! C'mon Take-mikazuchi... c'mon!" The teen reached deeper into himself. He could feel his Persona deep within but it wasn't coming out. Without it, he felt helpless in this world of strangers. With it, he could take on anyone that crossed his path...

    ... but also, he could think back on what the others would do in his situation. "A-alright, what would Senpai do?" Kanji paced a bit, his fists clenching as he wished he had the deductive skills of his friends. If they were here, they would certainly have come up with a solution.

    "Let's see... that Warden guy was really gettin' on my nerves with all that crap he was saying about a trial. I'd like to find him and give him a piece of my mind," He slammed his fist into his palm, staring out at the sea itself. There was no way anyone could swim out of here, and Kanji was smart enough to know that.

    "I know one thing," Kanji sighed as he stared back at the prison compound. "Goin' about this alone is stupid... I'm gonna need some help."


    TAG: Any/>
  25. Yodaminch Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Mar 6, 2002
    star 6
    OOC: Spiff! [face_laugh]

    IC: Terry McGinnis

    I?m Bender, Julie. You haven?t had enough chitchat yet? Beer me!

    It was pretty clear that Bender wasn't going to treat him with respect. So Terry decided it would be best to find some beer soon. Of course, there was always the possibility that beer would only make Bender worse. But clearly this robot cared for pleasure and didn't seem bothered about where he was as long as he had beer and cigars.

    When Terry asked him about being armed, Bender replied

    Only my wickedly sharp wit. It cuts like a knife, and it feels so right. Oh yeah, and my arms and legs are pretty heavy, too. What?s it to you?

    Terry shrugged. "We're just looking for a way out of here. A killer robot would make that a bit easier I guess."

    Tag: Bender

    IC: Jack Bauer

    After insulting Terry, Bender turned to Jack

    So buddy, you want to make yourself useful for once in our relationship and tell me you managed to smuggle in some cigars? I sure could use one.

    Before Jack could reply, the robot laughed and said

    I?m just joshing you, pal. I mean, when I think about where you would have had to hide them, no thanks.

    In response, Jack said "So you mention your arms and legs are pretty heavy. They don't happen to detach easily?" Jack eyed the robot's shoulder area, mentally determining how easy it would be to remove the arm and bash the robot's head in before doing the same to the Warden and his guards.

    Tag: Bender, Any/>
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