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Characters
Here



madison — unbreakable.





































  • mood



    Determined
















Madison’s eyes wandered over to the voice addressing her. The way the guy was dressed it was like he came from one of those old westerns her dad watches from time to time. Her brows furrowed at the guy, lips partially opened, and nose scrunched in disbelief of what she heard. Purgatory. Madison shook her head and let out a scoff.

Is this boy out of his mind? Purgatory was for the dead, and there was no way in hell they were dead.

“Yeah, no. There’s no way we’re in purgatory,” she said, placing her free hand on her hip and motioning her head the way she came, “I just came from my street, and I’m pretty sure my heart is still beating.”

A wave of uncertainty began to fill Madison’s head the more she thought about. What he was saying about purgatory brought some unwanted anxieties. A feeling she hasn’t felt herself for a long time. Right now she couldn’t let it get to her head. Not now. Not until she knows more, and if he doesn’t know much she doubted anybody else would. They needed a plan and to figure out a way to get a better grasp at things. Maybe talking more to this guy might help with keeping her more grounded.

“Sorry, I'm just trying not to freak. How did you get here?” she asked, gravitating her eyes over as more people appeared towards the area.

Some looked much older than others. She glanced at a group of people who were being familiar with themselves. A girl dressed in a torn-up wedding gown was a new one. Then she came across other things around the camp. Tents, for one. A lot of them. The anxieties she was feeling were replaced with sensibility. Her instincts were telling her to figure this out. To get a better grasp at what they were dealing with. Everything was too weird for her to think this was reality right now. In honesty, it felt like it was about to become a living nightmare. Whatever nightmare this was, she wasn’t going to let it get to her. Right now, Madison only thought of her dad. She gave a nod, reassuring him that she was listening or halfway at least. She only focused on the words that she needed to know. The rest was that western slang she never understood.

“You know, we can’t just sit here. We need to look for a way out of this place or look for some answers. I’m going to look around. You can come with and if not, it's cool,” she offered. In some way, she hoped the stranger would take it, but most likely you wouldn’t trust strangers often either. So she wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

Might as well look for a way out. If they were all coming here, there had to be a reason. Madison wasn’t going to just stick around and make a tent or sit idly waiting for something to happen. She just wasn’t that kind of person to begin with. There had to be some stuff around here that could help. Whatever it may be, it was better than just feeling helpless.

She gathered her bearings before going off towards the forest again.

































KNIVES



NEONI










♡coded by uxie♡
 



ruby ─ starstruck.





































  • mood



    horrified.
















Even with her eyes closed she can recognize the flash of bright lights and cameras. Full eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes, ready to meet them…her fans. But there was no one around. She was alone in a room surrounded by cameras that captured her on their own.

Ruby tilted her head in both curiosity and confusion. She had never encountered anything like this. The flashes she was all too familiar with but the lack of people was disconcerting. She missed the gasps of awe her presence would evoke. The sound was music to her ears. They were so full of wonder, shock, and…

“FEAR.”

A voice unknown to her. She looked around for the source. Her turns were sharp and coordinated, not something she was used to.

“YOU WILL BECOME THEIR FEAR.”

Are you giving me…a role? A smirk graced her lips. The challenge excited her. Whose fear will I become? No response. A few minutes passed in silence. Frustration began to take over and she let out a huff. How can she give her best performance without more information? And then it dawn on her…everyone’s fear is different. She will have to adapt based on the person. Is this what you ask of me?

“YES. BE THEIR FEAR.”

There was the response she was looking for. The initial feeling of frustration melted away as she began to plot her approach. She rolled her neck and shoulders to loosen her muscles, but the sound of rustling stopped her dead in her tracks. What was that?

“I HAVE MADE YOU THE BEST VERSION OF YOURSELF.”

What did they mean by that?

She glanced around and noticed a doorway leading to another room. She pulled herself away from the flashing cameras and made her way over to the next room, finding herself to be surprisingly light on her feet. The room opened up to be a dressing room. Mirrors lit up by bright, bulbous light bulbs paired with vanities that lined up against the wall. It brought her back to the days she would get her hair and makeup done for filming.

Hesitation held her back from looking at her reflection. She could not shake off the feeling that she no longer appeared the way she had worked so hard to achieve. Whatever had claimed her had created her to their liking. Slowly, she approached one of the mirrors, not entirely sure what to expect. The last memory she had was falling after being chased by birds. What could she possibly look like after such an ordeal?

The creature that stared back at her on the mirror was ghastly. Her dark brown eyes were replaced by cold, beady ones. Grey feathers with dark tips covered her body from head to toe. Her arms were now large wings, and her hands and feet were made of long talons. The only feature that remained recognizable was her face. Her freckles, full lips, and surgically repaired nose remained the same. She was a bird with a human face.

What have you done to me? I was…beautiful…

































we'll meet again



vera lynn










♡coded by uxie♡
 



juno "the medusa" ─ remember me.





































  • mood



    confused, angry.
















"DREADED ONE. AWAKEN."

Juno expected the coppery tang of blood on her tongue when her eyes shot open, the distorted voice still echoing in her mind. She was dead- supposed to be dead. She reached around to run a hand up and down her spine only to find it completely intact. Odd. Juno should have been in two pieces, but instead she stood without issue. The top half of herself didn't slump over, hanging on by mere threads and she couldn't feel the excruciating pain of her organs being mangled. No hands on her body, no teeth biting into flesh, or metal cuffs digging into her wrists.

The space around Juno wasn't a dingy warehouse, but an ethereal landscape that went on for miles upon miles, and she recognized none of it. This wasn't somewhere she had ever been, but she saw plenty about it when researching Greek mythology. But why was she here? To end up in a place like this after death... It felt wrong. She felt wrong.

Then came the voice.

"You will put on the perfect play, my Medusa."

Juno wished she could wring the neck of whoever said that.

"I am Ito Juno," She hissed, doing her best to keep a lid on her anger, "I am not Medusa and I am putting on no plays." Juno didn't want to let a disembodied voice control her, especially not one that so blatantly disrespected her by using a name that was not hers.

"Ito Juno is dead. You are The Medusa and you will do as I say."

Juno rubbed her hands over her face, frustrated; to think she was arguing with a voice from nowhere, but deep down she knew this was all too real; and something she accepted almost immediately, knowing well enough she was at a massive disadvantage. Antagonizing this thing probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, either. It had power and Juno was in no place to fight it, especially not knowing what it was or its goals. Considering the circumstances, it probably had some degree of control over her, so the smart thing would be to do as it said.

"Fine," Oh, how quickly Juno resigned herself to her fate despite how desperately she wanted to resist, "What am I meant to do?"

"Entertain. Kill."

Juno's eyebrow twitched, irritated by the lack of answer but not surprised. She had a feeling she wouldn't get anything more out of the entity that had taken her; at least, not yet. That didn't stop her from asking another question, "What have you done to me?"

"See for yourself, Medusa."

There weren't any mirrors nearby for Juno to use, so she could only assume it wanted her to look at her reflection in the lake. Wordlessly approaching the water's edge, she leaned over and peered into it.

The reflection that stared back at Juno was almost herself, but the glossy black snakes that replaced her hair were new and very much alive; they coiled and uncoiled languidly, brushing against her lower back. Juno carefully lifted one of the many snakes that covered her head and looked it in the eyes, "Hello, little one." The snake seemed to respond, hissing and curling loosely around her wrist. Juno gently stroked the top of its head with her thumb.

"A gorgon." Juno mused, not taking her eyes off the snake. She was beginning to understand what had been done to her.

"Yes."

"You have taken my identity."

"NO, DREADED ONE. I HAVE PERFECTED YOU."

































who is she?



i monster










♡coded by uxie♡
 



nellie ─ repressed alliance.
































Nellie eyes the exchange between Sable and the man with caution, momentarily caught off guard by the brazenness of the girls' way of speaking. No one acted like this at the compound, not without reprimand and a tongue lashing─questioning her own marriage at the ripe age of fifteen had left her humiliated and ashamed. Insolent.

But this wasn't the compound.

"S'okay. You don't need to be saying sorry or nothin'." Taking Sable's outstretched hand, Nellie allows the girl to hoist her onto her feet. She brushes off the back of her dress with both hands, fingers catching onto small twigs and leaves. Wonderful, Nellie thinks discontentedly, knowing the stains will take some time to scrub out with the lack of resources. Weighing her options, Nellie looks to the man that spoke with clear intent in his threat and fights the urge to look down, look anywhere but at him─insolence was to look at men with anything close to contempt.

"None of us seem to know what's going on." A quiver fights its way into her voice, residual anxiety leftover from the act of harming Travis, to ending up here─surrounded by strangers in a forest. From the panicked whispers, to the people seeming to accept their circumstances, to the frightened faces around the camp. . . Nellie spots a blonde girl, staring into the mist with a mask of horror so palpable, she almost steps back herself. Convinced she'd seen something.

Nellie gives Sable an eager look that says follow me and crosses the campsite to the girl, stopping just a few feet away as to not startle or crowd her. Instinct wants to carry her closer, to greet the girl as she would in the compound─to touch the back of her arm or elbow, asking for their attention before opening your mouth and speaking to the wind. Instead, Nellie crosses her arms to caress her own elbows, at a loss on the correct social cues for the given situation.

"Ma'am? You doing okay?" Nellie questions gently, flicking her eyes to the fog the girl is watching so intently and immediately looking away, afraid of what might be lurking in the darkness.

“Hey….does anyone have any idea where I am? Do any of you have a phone on you, maybe?”

Nellie whips around to spot a girl patting herself down, searching for something she no longer has. Swallowing thickly, a doubt creeps into her mind. Is this all an act? She wavers on the spot as her eyes unfocused, blurring the muted colours of the forest into splotches on her vision. Was this what awaited those that tried to leave the compound? A test? Suspicious, Nellie comes back into herself with a stark reminder: the Oregon cliffs were nowhere to be seen through the fog, but something else was at play here. Not everyone might be trustworthy. Maybe no one could be.

She addresses the girl bluntly, "No one knows nothin' apparently. Where did you come from?" There's a stark sting to her words, switching her distaste for the man that had spoken earlier onto the girl in question.

































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:










apolline súkeníková















role

botany knowledge; benevolent






location

by the fireplace






outfit

top. bottom. shoes. ; hair in two messy braids, the stragglers draped across her face. not shown is a thermal long sleeve top underneath the mohair hoodie.






mentions

jaxson armeen armeen






item

med-kit, unaware atm









From the shadows emerged a figure she hadn’t anticipated, slipping silently beside her. Apolline kept her gaze fixed on the heart of the fire, only lifting her head up the tiniest bit to catch a glimpse of two open palms accepting the warmth as she had.

She didn’t allow herself to look further, averting her eyes once again.

“I reckon you have no clue where we are.”

His voice resonated, warm and friendly, cutting through the chill in the air. Apolline raised her head higher, Englishman… Manchester perhaps?

If not for the countless seasons of Coronation Street that had aired in Slovakia, she might have missed that minor detail entirely. Funny how the fleeting memory of a childhood television show surfaced in her mind when she could barely grasp how she had landed in this dreamlike reality.

Straightening her back, Apolline shifted her weight onto the backs of her legs, her knees nearly buckling as the denim of her pants scraped against the dirt. “I don’t…” she managed to say, her soft voice struggling to refrain from a tremble. She had studied English diligently, yet the words felt more elusive than ever.

“I’m still hoping it’s some.. ..sick joke.”

A short laugh escaped her lips, almost a comical sense of disbelief on her face. She peaked at him through her hair, catching a glimpse of his face. Moving the mess of blonde from her vision, she made eye contact–her brows furrowed, “What do you remember?”

The pressing question echoed her own fragmented memories. Apolline thought she had been lying in a hospital bed, just barely getting through the first stages of labor. Arden had appeared almost like a ghost, standing silently at her bedside. She recalled the pain, the sweat, the tears, and then—almost like a strange dose of morphine—the sensation of a cold, wet blanket enveloping her. Her mind seemed to shut down at that point, unable to grasp anything else of significance. She wondered if even that memory was real.

She fought against the urge to dig herself deeper into confusion, knowing that her thoughts had the capability to spiral into a descent of madness. Yet, it was agonizing. Here she sat, like a child by the fire, staring into the eyes of an Englishman she had never seen before, surrounded by strangers she had yet to meet, all beneath a dark, sprawling sky.

Her lip quivered. She bit her cheek to steady her expression, feeling her eyes well up with tears again as she awaited his response.





























♪ tomorrow's taken ♪

mojave 3






♡coded by uxie♡

 



Jon - DBT posts.jpg

Diversion

Jonathan
Chen

His eyes narrowed at the girl that addressed him, however it was more in contemplation than in anger. She seemed irritated enough not to lie about knowing who he was, so he could at least believe that part. Which likely meant he wasn't the target, at least, not the only target of whatever this was. That was one mystery quickly solved.

Now, this girl. Easily irritated, sharp-tongued, bordering on aggressive. However, not entirely unreasonable, otherwise she would have tried to get physical. Should be fun to play with. She seemed to him like a big personality, one that was fed off their own self-importance. A look at the girl she was with confirmed as much to him. Speaking of which...

His gaze moved to the other girl and he took note of how she did her best to avoid making eye contact with him. Timid, avoidant, dislikes conflict. She's probably more likely to try and appease than stand her ground. His gaze moved back to the more brazen one. Knight in Armor to the helpless princess? Both of them could be useful to him, however, the more timid one seemed like she would be easier to get in with. A gentle tone and a few kind words should be enough to break through, but he was in no hurry to reduce himself to that.

He stood there in silence, observing and thinking, not saying a single word in response to the woman's aggravations, but instead, taking the time to collect data. In her shouting, she had confirmed to him that this was new to all of them and they were all strangers. There was bound to be chaos and a few people fighting to take control. He'd need to find those people quickly.

As the timid one led the other one away, his eyes moved around the campfire, noticing the tents around. A quick count showed that there were equal number of tents to people around the fire and it didn't seem likely that they would have brought their own. At least, he knows that he didn't. That means that, at some level, there was some organization behind this, some planning. It was likely some government thing or the other or some scheme put together by a corporate tycoon for their rich friends to laugh oer the poor struggling to survive. The concept would make a good book, but he had no interest in being one of the characters.

One thing was clear to him, however: everybody was confused and there were already people looking and shouting for answers. Information, as always, was the goal here. Whoever controlled the information controlled the group. He just needed to be the first to find that information. Or, rather, lead others into believing he found theinformation for them, so they'd owe him.

He needed to test whether the same rules still applied in this odd world - after all, there were people that were dressed entirely out of time. Had they been plucked from some convention and dropped off here? He never quite understood those types, they might be a challenge - especially if they thought this was all part of some convention game and so stuck to the bit. That would be most unhelpful. Right now, he needed to find those that would naturally step into leadership.

The dude shouting for his mother? God, no. Not him. Then there were the caregivers and care-needers. Closer, but they were more suited to being devoted followers than natural leaders. There were two convention-goers huddled round a tent. They seemed to have a good head on their shoulders, but then again...they were convention goers.

However, he managed to spot two that stood out from the rest. A girl with a black hoodie and track pants. There was a fire in her eyes, the same type of fire you'd see in the eyes of someone who knows how to do something about a situation. She was still gathering her bearings, but - if left to her own devices, she'd likely start figuring things out. He'd need to get in close to her before then. Unfortunately, it seemed as though someone else had caught her attention and called her over. Not her then.

The other one was in a flannel and jeans. Not exactly leader-attire, but she seemed like the quickest to start moving and figuring things out. She also didn't seem to be moving with the flock to set up tents - he agreed with that decision. It would seem like she was talking to another convention-goer. Christ, how many of you are there? That was enough to make him want to look for someone else, however, her words fell across his ears and his nature caused him to move toward the two. "We need to look for a way out of this place or look for some answers," she said.

"We", "A way out", "Answers". There's the leader. Convention goer be damned.

He walked up to the two, hands in his pockets and a casual, unbothered look on his face. "You're not so eager to call this place home either, are you? If you need an extra set of eyes and hands, you've got one here." He needed to stick close to this one. She was bound to rise within the ranks anyway, but he needed to make sure he had a hand in her rising.

Mentions: Sable ( angel doe angel doe ), Greta ( lostbird lostbird ), Madison ( CrimsonInk CrimsonInk )




((Note: Thoughts will be crimson and italicized while speech will be crimson and bolded.))​

Dupe - DBT posts.jpg

The Sprout

Modupe
Alistair

When his execution day came, he refused to go out that way. He fought and bucked and to run. He knew it was futile, but at least he could say that he tried. His uniform got ripped and bloodied from the fight with the officers as they dragged him to the chair.

"Get me out of here! Get me out of here! Please, I'll do anything!"

Anything?

The voice hadn't come from one of the police officers and it sounded...honestly, it sounded evil. More evil and sinister than anything he'd ever heard. It was like a venom dripping by his ears. Yet, his fear of death triumphed over his fear of this unknown voice. And so he mentally affirmed, Anything.

As the officers opened the next door, a cold, unholy gust overcame them and the hallway was filled with fog, thick and suffocating. Alarms rang out as chaos rose, but Modupe heard none of it. He was already gone.

He landed on his back in the middle of the exacution chamber. One look was all he needed to know where he was and his whole body was filled with dread. His pleas had gone unanswered. His cries, unheard. That sinister voice he heard earlier had been nothing but his mind playing tricks on him.

His head fell back to the floor, silent tears streaming from his eyes, down and over his ears, pooling at his lobe, before dropping. The stream continued, Dupe completely resigning himself to his fate. It was the punishment he deserved. He waited to feel the belt hold him down. He waited to feel the cold metal on his skin. He waited for death. But it never came. The only thing around him was silence. A deep, encompassing silence...and the feeling that he was being watched.

Slowly opening his eyes, he took another look around the room and realised that he was the only person here. There were no guards, no lawyers, no observers. Nothing. The whole space was empty. Even more haunting, there was no bed or chair for him to be strapped down to. The whole room was empty. He wasn't sure, however, if the bed and chair being missing was better or worse for him.

Wiping his tears, which now felt hot against his skin, he stoof up and dared take a step outside of the room. The whole area was unfamiliar to him and caused him to question where he was at. However, there were still no guards. It looked like the facility he was in, but a few things were...different. That didn't bother him at all though. All that mattered to him was that he was free.

He broke into a sprint, intending to keep running until he either saw city streets or guards. All he knew was that he had been given an opportunity and he intended to take it. He'd made it all the way into the courtyard and he could see the gates, however, for some reason, he couldn't quite see much farther beyond it. That was fine. He'd keep running either way. However, as he ran, he heard that voice again. The sinister one.

Killer...don't run...

The word triggered Modupe and he shouted back into nothingness. "I am not a killer!"

Killer...

"I am not! It was an accident!"

Killer...

"Shut up! Leave me alone! What do you want?!"

Killer...kill for me...

The entity began flooding Modupe's mind with words and thoughts and images of all the things it wanted him to do and the pressure knocked Modupe off his feet. Letting out a desperate cry, he folded himself into fetal position on the courtyard grounds, covering his ears and trying to block the entity out.

"Please! Leave me alone! I don't want to do this! Leave me alone!"

Mentions: None

 



Ambrose - Dance With Me





































  • mood



    relieved
















A way out... It seemed almost too good to be true. But this girl was determined, the tilt of her brows showcasing her need to do something instead of standing around. Ambrose liked her tenacity. Perhaps he was wrong and this wasn't purgatory after all. He knew upon saying it out loud that it felt weird, but his mind couldn't up with any other explanation. Perhaps they had somehow been whisked away to a different space, but how that would work he had no clue. Though it he thought about it, Ambrose hadn't felt a gun shot. And when he put his fingers to his neck to check his pulse, it was still there. So his heart was beating. It seemed like he was alive after all, then.

He blinked, realizing that he hadn't answered the girl's question. "I was tryin' to outrun the sheriff and his men. Those are some crooked guys, let me tell ya. They got the rest of my crew, and they were about to get me too, until I found myself here. Wherever here is. And yer probably right about the purgatory stuff. I knew it sounded strange, but I'm not sure where else we would be. This whole day has been a real bag of nails." He sighed. Now that this girl had shot down his purgatory idea, it seemed a lot dumber. He still wasn't completely convinced he was wrong, but talking to his crew always got his worst ideas out so he could start cooking up a plan. And this girl seemed like someone quite helpful for that sort of thing. Plus, she seemed nice. Or at least nice enough to not just ditch him in his initial confusion (not that he wasn't still plenty confused). He breezed past some of her more confusing wordage, thinking it was possibly just cultural differences. He wasn't sure what freaks had to do with anything. It had been a while since he'd read Frankenstein.

"Thanks fer offerin' for me to come along with ya," Ambrose added with a small smile. "If there's answers ta find, I sure wanna find 'em. No use barkin' at a knot, after all. I'll go with ya." He started to follow her, keeping his eyes open for any sort of clue or answer that could be found in the darkness. But no sooner had he started to follow her than another stranger approached.

This guy was dressed a little more strangely, in a shirt of light material and what looked like denim. But still not as odd as some others. However, the way he looked at Ambrose admittedly irked him a little bit. He thought his outfit was fine. Was it really that ugly? He also flat out ignored Ambrose in favor of talking to the young woman with him. He supposed he could understand it partially, though, given how she was obviously determined to get out of here. That idea had to attract others with the intention to escape. Because if Ambrose could get out, if there was any chance he could get back to his crew and somehow rescue them--well obviously he would take it. If anything, this girl's determination was filling him with determination too. But this newcomer was interesting. At least he could study the man while he talked, considering the fact that he was deliberately not addressing Ambrose at all.

"Howdy there," he greeted. Even if he was going to get ignored, at least he could be polite and say hello. Well, if he were honest, maybe it was because he was ignored that he was intent on greeting this man. Here was here too, after all. Even if he was feeling higgledy-piggledy, he was going to say something.
































wanted man



royal deluxe










♡coded by uxie♡
 



isabella ─ object of obsession.
































Sable's expression softened as Nellie insisted she had nothing to say sorry for and had to fight back the urge to apologize again. She bit her lip, swallowing the words before they could escape, "If ya say so." Sable trailed off as she helped Nellie to her feet, her fingers twitching. She let go quickly and flexed her hand. The discomfort set in almost immediately, a burning that started at her palm and radiated outward wherever the other woman had touched. She began to shake both hands up and down, trying to expel the anxious energy as it began to build.

In a futile attempt to ignore the worsening pain, Sable looked at the man who yelled at the group for absolutely no reason. She stilled her hands, narrowing her eyes at him as he stared at her and Nellie. Sable hated how he examined them as though he was trying to glean something in the mere moments he spent just looking at them. Did he think he would get any information based on appearances alone? Whatever conclusions he came to, they were likely very far off the mark.

Sable wanted to laugh as the strange man didn't bother responding and instead chose to run off. She certainly could have been calmer about the way she responded, but he was the one who came in swinging and verbally attacked everyone in the vicinity. Her lips curled into a smile as she watched him walk away, "Looks like Bambi is all bark, no bite." Sable hummed, rolling her eyes. She turned just in time to catch the look Nellie shot her, a clear signal to follow; with nothing better to do, she fell into step behind her.

Once across the campsite, Sable stopped beside Nellie to observe the interaction. The other blonde who stood before them had an expression so horrified it chilled Sable to her core, crossing her arms over her chest and squeezing as tight as she could. Honestly, she was too distracted by the ghost of a hand still holding onto hers to pay mind to the conversation. Sable lifted the hand she used to help Nellie and dug her nails into her palm until they left deep half-crescent indents in the flesh. Given her inability to fully focus on the current situation, Sable was grateful Nellie had taken charge of the interaction and used this time to ground herself.

"No one knows nothin' apparently. Where did you come from?"

The sting in Nellie’s words caught Sable’s attention, finally prompting her to look up, intrigued. She wondered if this change in tone had something to do with the man who had been yelling at everyone earlier, but she quickly dismissed the thought, deciding it wasn’t relevant enough to mention just yet- or at all, for that matter. It was a fleeting thought that likely wouldn't come up again. Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand such as figuring out what the fuck was going on and who these other people were. Maybe they could offer more insight into what was happening, though Sable was fairly certain they were just as clueless as she and Nellie.

































ptolemaea



ethel cain










♡coded by uxie♡
 




  • madison — unbreakable.
































    Madison stopped in her tracks listening to Billy the kid, her head whipping back with half her body turning his way. A half-smile formed on her face, happy to see another determined individual who wants to know why they’re here. This guy may not seem too bad after all. Whatever western lingo he was presenting himself, she’ll get used to it. Getting out was top priority right now.

    “Cool. If we’re sticking together, we should at least know each other's names. I’m Madison, call me Mads for short,” she introduced herself, nodding her head his way, “And yours?”

    Maybe getting acquainted with others wasn’t a bad idea. It leads to good help, and they would need multiple heads and perspectives to figure this out. In this situation she assumed to lead until someone proved they were much more capable. Not that she minded. She was used to taking charge, especially in situations that seemed very stressful. It was better to adapt rather than allow the stress to succumb to you, like it was starting to for a lot of these people. In times like these, “soldiering up” is what got you results.

    "You're not so eager to call this place home either, are you? If you need an extra set of eyes and hands, you've got one here."

    The browns of her eyes moved, but her body didn’t. The company of two soon turned into three. A guy, black hair and familiar casual clothing came their way offering their help. Another one who seemed eager to figure this out. His mannerisms seem to be familiar and comfortable enough to feel like he wasn’t a threat. Numbers were growing and that’s what Madison liked to see. However, she knew deep down that she needed to be more cautious. After all, they were strangers in a weird place and they were left in the dark about something. Someone could be pretending to know nothing and seem friendly, but until then she has nothing to prove anyone would do them wrong.

    Her hand slipped back on her hip allowing her weight to fall on her right side. Her eyes quickly looked up and down with a neutral expression, then nodded accepting his assistance.

    “Don’t forget ears too,” she added, “Mads. I was saying that we need to start looking around. This place is weird and it’s weird for all of us to be here. I still think someone has to know something. There can’t just be tents and a fire. We need to look for a phone, a radio, a map.”

    "No one knows nothin' apparently. Where did you come from?"

    Madison raised a brow and turned to the voice addressing her. Her head tilted with her RBF setting in, blinking slowly trying to find the correct words to address her. A quick gaze told her she was a farm girl, maybe? Another looked so pale it was as if she saw a ghost, and the other girl who looked like she escaped hell and back. But what she caught on the most with the farm girl was that same gaze people give when they feel wary. Defensive. While her expression may not show it, her voice did. It was well mannered enough to get her character across, or that’s what she hoped.

    “I came from the woods just passed here,” she began, walking towards the girls and passed the two guys, “but where I’m really from is Cali. L.A. I was just talking to these guys about searching around and trying to figure out where the hell we are. Find stuff like a radio, phone, a map, things like that. It can’t just be tents and this fire. What about you guys?”

    Madison waited to see what the girl would say. While she was eager to get to know people, she was beginning to feel antsy just standing and doing introductions. It was that impatient vice of hers that was getting her to feel fidgety. Her instincts were telling her to hurry up and investigate, not sit around and wait any longer. It was the dreadful feeling of the more they wait, the longer it’ll take to find answers.

































    KNIVES



    NEONI










    ♡coded by uxie♡

 
Last edited:



  • bethany 'the doll' ─ floods of rage.





































    • mood



      exasperated.
















    Gazing at the ceiling, Bethany sees herself─human, naive. Blindly following Vaughn through the revolving doors, a slow and careful pace behind him as he escorted her through the lobby. Her eyes roamed over the interior, catching her reflection off the various shiny metals crafted into abstract shapes. The emphasis on futuristic not to be understated. Ginger hair loosened from its typical knot that day, hanging free and brushing against her arms with every slight movement.

    Current Bethany tilts her head, expecting to jostle the strands into repeating the gesture─to no avail. Her hair, the very essence of its colour, stripped into something dull and not... her. Plastic. Purple. Prison.

    She tries to swallow her unease but that fails too, so she continues her exploration of the lobby until the carpet ends and the tiles begin. It sounds different under her weight. Testing the noise, she moves back onto the carpet─adding a satisfying muffle to her steps. Back onto the tile, a harsh clicking echos. Discomforted, her shoulders drop as she sighs deeply.

    Plastic. Purple. Prison.

    Bethany psyches herself up and continues the journey, her brows twitching with each click of her pointed feet on the tile. She navigates to a room she remembers distinctly─the mannequin room. Rejected models and doll parts were discarded there, littering the floors and shoved into boxes. She pauses in the darkened doorway, the ominous sight of her standing in the midst of dolls horribly disfigured gave her an unnerving sense of dominance. I made it. You didn't.

    She tries the light switch. Nothing. Passing through the rows of shelves stacked high─seven of her high─Bethany catches onto a glint of light cast across the floor, flickering. It's not until she's less than ten feet away that it dawns on her. I've seen and heard that flicker before...? The rhythm─It grips her, this terror and she turns on her feet so fast she almost topples into a box of doll legs. Out of breath, Bethany's hand comes to clutch at her chest where her heart should be. Soothing the racing... no, not racing. The steady jolts that burst through her chest, mimicking a heartbeat.

    "That's not funny." She speaks out loud for the Entity to hear.

    The atmosphere hums back at her, lights flickering faster in response. Her eyes are drawn over her shoulder, at the crack in the door that leads to her old dance studio. Broken mirror shards lay in pieces across the floor, reflecting the glint she had seen.

    "I don't want that here." Bethany snaps, voice rising in desperation.

    "IT'S PART OF YOU."

    "Not anymore."

    "DANCE."

    Her eyes roll skyward, exasperated as she releases her grip on the shelf and chest─the jolts have ceased as her anger overpowers fear. "I cannot. Look at me."

    No response. Disapprove of me, hangs on her tongue─or, the metal tab acting as a tongue─and as if the Entity can hear her thoughts, a rising hum emanates from the toy factory in a crescendo that leaves her gaze flying around, searching for the source. Everything snuffs into darkness, save for the room─the catalyst of it all. Huffing at the Entity's indignant display, Bethany steels herself and heads for the room.

    A picture in time, Bethany tip-toes across the floor to avoid the shattered glass. Then shakes her head as she realises it won't hurt her, not anymore. Plastic. Purple. Prison. A mantra to commit to mind whenever she errs towards the side of her non-existent humanity. The dance studio has ample room, a myriad of memories for to latch onto─but only one matters. The floor to ceiling length mirror is almost entirely splintered, shards of glass lay in a heap at the base with a shocking mixture of dried blood. Had it spilled or leaked from the orifices in the suit as the nails and rods pierced her body? An explosion, she recalls vividly.

    "IT'S PART OF YOU." The Entity repeats, coaxing a reaction.

    She has none to give. Not for it. Maybe for the souls it intends to drag into her space, rifling through the fractured remnants of a short-lived life. But not for it.

































    cry for love



    백현










    ♡coded by uxie♡
 
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