[Storm Plot] Revelations 23:1
Characters: Warden, ALL
Where: Arena
When: Early morning, current
Summary: The Warden awakes from unconsciousness, tries to answer questions, and hopes not to get mobbed by many unhappy residents.
Warnings: Who knows?
Notes: Typical setup! New comment lines for new people, feel free to jump into others' with permission. Jing will reluctantly deter anyone who LITERALLY wants to kill Warden-kun, but he's certainly not going to get in the way of a tongue lashing.
The first thing he felt was pain; raw and sharp from the burns he'd sustained, dull and aching from the broken arm, and suffocating from the cracked ribs. He knew he was injured, but he thought it would have been nice if the mere act of breathing wasn't agony, and he'd live with the rest. The last thing he remembered was passing through the compound's gate, the Obex sealing it again behind him, and then there was a curious blank in his memory that was most troubling.
The Warden opened his eyes, staring up at the high-beamed ceiling of the Arena.
A glimpse of orange in the corner of his eye caused him to turn his head slightly, despite the pounding such an action caused. There was an unmoving figure sitting next to him, one leg drawn upwards for his chin to rest on. The Warden couldn't tell whether he was supposed to be grateful that they'd assigned someone to watch over him, or annoyed that they'd picked a lazy idiot who'd decided to take a nap while doing so.
Then the figure moved, and the Warden found himself the subject of a very steely glare, and realized someone who'd napped was the least of his worries.
"I see you've rejoined us," the figure said, his tone deceptively polite.
It took the Warden a moment of considerable effort to even place who he was speaking with, even though he knew each resident by heart, their names and their worlds and their pasts. This was the boy-thief, the first one the Indigeo had selected, one which had caused no less than his fair share of trouble inside the compound in the last several months. Come from the world Aquavitae, bore the title Bandit King, called Jing. The wardrobe was something of a giveaway.
Not the worst person to be sitting his vigil, but not the most harmless either. Satisfied his memory was working, the Warden asked in a raspy voice, "The storm has passed?"
"Days ago," Jing replied. "You've been unconscious for quite a while. You've missed all the aftermath, very conveniently. The Mess Hall was destroyed, so there's little-to-no food and we're all hungry. The Indigeo isn't working, the cuffs barely are. The Consulo works, so at the very least we can drop new people into this place even if we can't do anything else. And, let's not forget... someone died."
Had he not been prone on the ground already, he might have recoiled at the flatness of the young man's recount. "Impossible... the cuffs would stop--"
"They don't stop death, Warden. If you really had that technology, you wouldn't need all of us to protect your world. The Entropi would be no threat to you. All the cuffs do is prevent us from killing each other -- but that's not the only way to die."
The white-suited man fell silent, acknowledging the harsh criticism. It was several moments before he spoke again. "The other residents?"
Jing sighed. "Some injured, some not. There are doctors here, they helped. They patched you up, too. Don't go messing up their work, I'm not sure how willing they'll be to treat you again now that someone died on your watch."
The Warden managed a dour expression. "You hold me personally responsible for the death of one of the residents?"
"Miroku," Jing said coldly. "Don't talk about him in the abstract. And you're responsible by proxy. We had no warning, no preparation. This is how you want us to fight your war, Warden? To be sitting ducks for the Entropi to pick off one by one? And you did nothing except come to us for help in the eleventh hour."
"I did what I could," the Warden answered forcefully, but broke off his retort when pain flared, forcing him to stop and take several labored breaths. After a moment, he added, "I risked more than you know by tampering with the Indigeo."
Jing looked about ready to criticize, when he realized others were beginning to wake. "Don't think you're finished yet, Warden. You have a lot of explaining to do."
[OOC: A note on the thread title, the Book of Revelation in the Bible has only 22 chapters, thus the pun is "what begins after the end of everything". Ankhi failz!]
Where: Arena
When: Early morning, current
Summary: The Warden awakes from unconsciousness, tries to answer questions, and hopes not to get mobbed by many unhappy residents.
Warnings: Who knows?
Notes: Typical setup! New comment lines for new people, feel free to jump into others' with permission. Jing will reluctantly deter anyone who LITERALLY wants to kill Warden-kun, but he's certainly not going to get in the way of a tongue lashing.
The first thing he felt was pain; raw and sharp from the burns he'd sustained, dull and aching from the broken arm, and suffocating from the cracked ribs. He knew he was injured, but he thought it would have been nice if the mere act of breathing wasn't agony, and he'd live with the rest. The last thing he remembered was passing through the compound's gate, the Obex sealing it again behind him, and then there was a curious blank in his memory that was most troubling.
The Warden opened his eyes, staring up at the high-beamed ceiling of the Arena.
A glimpse of orange in the corner of his eye caused him to turn his head slightly, despite the pounding such an action caused. There was an unmoving figure sitting next to him, one leg drawn upwards for his chin to rest on. The Warden couldn't tell whether he was supposed to be grateful that they'd assigned someone to watch over him, or annoyed that they'd picked a lazy idiot who'd decided to take a nap while doing so.
Then the figure moved, and the Warden found himself the subject of a very steely glare, and realized someone who'd napped was the least of his worries.
"I see you've rejoined us," the figure said, his tone deceptively polite.
It took the Warden a moment of considerable effort to even place who he was speaking with, even though he knew each resident by heart, their names and their worlds and their pasts. This was the boy-thief, the first one the Indigeo had selected, one which had caused no less than his fair share of trouble inside the compound in the last several months. Come from the world Aquavitae, bore the title Bandit King, called Jing. The wardrobe was something of a giveaway.
Not the worst person to be sitting his vigil, but not the most harmless either. Satisfied his memory was working, the Warden asked in a raspy voice, "The storm has passed?"
"Days ago," Jing replied. "You've been unconscious for quite a while. You've missed all the aftermath, very conveniently. The Mess Hall was destroyed, so there's little-to-no food and we're all hungry. The Indigeo isn't working, the cuffs barely are. The Consulo works, so at the very least we can drop new people into this place even if we can't do anything else. And, let's not forget... someone died."
Had he not been prone on the ground already, he might have recoiled at the flatness of the young man's recount. "Impossible... the cuffs would stop--"
"They don't stop death, Warden. If you really had that technology, you wouldn't need all of us to protect your world. The Entropi would be no threat to you. All the cuffs do is prevent us from killing each other -- but that's not the only way to die."
The white-suited man fell silent, acknowledging the harsh criticism. It was several moments before he spoke again. "The other residents?"
Jing sighed. "Some injured, some not. There are doctors here, they helped. They patched you up, too. Don't go messing up their work, I'm not sure how willing they'll be to treat you again now that someone died on your watch."
The Warden managed a dour expression. "You hold me personally responsible for the death of one of the residents?"
"Miroku," Jing said coldly. "Don't talk about him in the abstract. And you're responsible by proxy. We had no warning, no preparation. This is how you want us to fight your war, Warden? To be sitting ducks for the Entropi to pick off one by one? And you did nothing except come to us for help in the eleventh hour."
"I did what I could," the Warden answered forcefully, but broke off his retort when pain flared, forcing him to stop and take several labored breaths. After a moment, he added, "I risked more than you know by tampering with the Indigeo."
Jing looked about ready to criticize, when he realized others were beginning to wake. "Don't think you're finished yet, Warden. You have a lot of explaining to do."
[OOC: A note on the thread title, the Book of Revelation in the Bible has only 22 chapters, thus the pun is "what begins after the end of everything". Ankhi failz!]