Nasu nearly crumpled when the pain hit. One slender arm shot out; she groped for something to grab onto as the wave of unexpected mental pressure hit her. There she stood for a few seconds, breathing harshly as she leaned against the wall before she finally stood to take stock of her surroundings.
She'd assumed that when and if she was abducted, her Trigger would be taken from her. But there it was, in a small cubby within the hexagonal room: a small black metal handle, molded along the side to fit the user's fingers. This she slipped in her pocket as she exited the room, clad in her civilian clothing.
Was Prince's urging really a request? Or an order? Either way, there was only one thing she could do now -- try to find out more about her new prison.
"Were you caught, too?", she might ask of one of the other hosts. Or perhaps: "How long will they keep us here?"
[ Feel free to respond to any time between waking and after Nasu's had a chance to find her room! ]
B: Team Sparkle Ribbon, your dance was sizzling. But your execution was... a little overdone.
The last thing Nasu wanted to do now was watch some garish space talent competition, and yet that was exactly what her instincts told her she should do. Her unit had never been on the shortlist for the few away missions that took elite agents out into the dark expanse that made up the Neighborhood, which meant that what Nasu knew about the worlds outside her own was secondhand knowledge. Now, for better or worse, that had to change.
But that didn't mean she had to try and get front row seats. The crush of a crowded dome might be too much; she had no idea of how her new, unfamiliar ability to connect with others might really react in those kinds of close quarters. Instead, she'd found her way to Blunt Force, where an enormous screen was playing the events of the lip sync competition live.
When the stage lurched to one side, no doubt helped along by hasty construction work and the general sentiment of good enough, Nasu was there to watch. A pigtailed, red-skinned girl with butterfly wings shrieked as she slid across a stage slick with glitter and sweat. It was quick -- the sizzling and sparking from the laser apparatus, the steam of evaporating blood. A swell of exultant cheers and jeers filled the club as the instant replay panned lovingly over the still-smoking slices of the former 'sweet doll'.
"Oh, girl," said a woman with what looked somehow like holographic butterfly-rim glasses. "Guess she didn't make the cut."
"That stage? Those shoes?" clucked a man with a fan of spectacular feathers woven into his suit. "Choices."
C: The importance of looking both ways
Nasu gripped the rail in front of her and tried to fight off the wave of nausea. She ended up walking almost robotically out through the front entrance and down the street, her mind a minor storm of revulsion, pity, anger, and the strong feeling that that girl had been just about her age -- or that of any one of her friends. Was this what the Neighborhood was like? Was --
She barely had time to activate her Trigger as an automated vehicle slammed into her, sending her body rolling along the ground and back onto the walk.
no subject
A: Arrival
Nasu nearly crumpled when the pain hit. One slender arm shot out; she groped for something to grab onto as the wave of unexpected mental pressure hit her. There she stood for a few seconds, breathing harshly as she leaned against the wall before she finally stood to take stock of her surroundings.She'd assumed that when and if she was abducted, her Trigger would be taken from her. But there it was, in a small cubby within the hexagonal room: a small black metal handle, molded along the side to fit the user's fingers. This she slipped in her pocket as she exited the room, clad in her civilian clothing.
Was Prince's urging really a request? Or an order? Either way, there was only one thing she could do now -- try to find out more about her new prison.
"Were you caught, too?", she might ask of one of the other hosts. Or perhaps: "How long will they keep us here?"
[ Feel free to respond to any time between waking and after Nasu's had a chance to find her room! ]
B: Team Sparkle Ribbon, your dance was sizzling. But your execution was... a little overdone.
The last thing Nasu wanted to do now was watch some garish space talent competition, and yet that was exactly what her instincts told her she should do. Her unit had never been on the shortlist for the few away missions that took elite agents out into the dark expanse that made up the Neighborhood, which meant that what Nasu knew about the worlds outside her own was secondhand knowledge. Now, for better or worse, that had to change.
But that didn't mean she had to try and get front row seats. The crush of a crowded dome might be too much; she had no idea of how her new, unfamiliar ability to connect with others might really react in those kinds of close quarters. Instead, she'd found her way to Blunt Force, where an enormous screen was playing the events of the lip sync competition live.
When the stage lurched to one side, no doubt helped along by hasty construction work and the general sentiment of good enough, Nasu was there to watch. A pigtailed, red-skinned girl with butterfly wings shrieked as she slid across a stage slick with glitter and sweat. It was quick -- the sizzling and sparking from the laser apparatus, the steam of evaporating blood. A swell of exultant cheers and jeers filled the club as the instant replay panned lovingly over the still-smoking slices of the former 'sweet doll'.
"Oh, girl," said a woman with what looked somehow like holographic butterfly-rim glasses. "Guess she didn't make the cut."
"That stage? Those shoes?" clucked a man with a fan of spectacular feathers woven into his suit. "Choices."
C: The importance of looking both ways
Nasu gripped the rail in front of her and tried to fight off the wave of nausea. She ended up walking almost robotically out through the front entrance and down the street, her mind a minor storm of revulsion, pity, anger, and the strong feeling that that girl had been just about her age -- or that of any one of her friends. Was this what the Neighborhood was like? Was --
She barely had time to activate her Trigger as an automated vehicle slammed into her, sending her body rolling along the ground and back onto the walk.