(no subject)

[opening_act]

Who: Exael and the Unlucky Contestants
Where: The Game Tower
When: 86, Evening

[ Between one step and the next the walls (or streets, or open air) around you changes. The sight before you is a room inside the game tower, a new pressure at your neck. Reaching up or looking at the people around you reveals it to be a collar, titanium with a small green blinking light set in the center. ]

[ the screen flickers on, on your cellphone. It's a half-second, blink and you miss it— Exael, chewing on a nail, looking uncharacteristically nervous— then the moment's gone and she waves both hands and smiles for the camera. ]

"Ladies, gentlemen, honored guests! Units of all stripes and sizes! I come offering you a game and a few familiar words, rearranged for the occasion!"

Her carnival barker demeanor shifts for a moment as she lowers her head to say: ] "Glory to the highest, and on earth peace—" [ her head snaps up, her pigtails bouncing with it, and she's grinning again, all pomp and energy ] "even if we're not getting much down here! So let's kick up a ruckus, put on a show, and see how much good goodwill alone can manage! If you wish to save your fellows, now is the time speak!"

[ The rules appear on your phones. ]

[ Rules ] [ Rooms ] [ Results ] [ Endgame, Revivals & Winners ]

Comments

[foolmetwice]

Well, we both got our heads blown up, so.

We should talk about preventing that in the future.

[motorcycle_noises]

....Oh. Oh!

[ He looks startled. ]

...Yeah, maybe we should talk.

[foolmetwice]

[THUMBS UP]

. . .

[yeah he doesn't know what else to say, if he says TOO MUCH Tatsuya might think he CARES and that would BE BAD]

[but also, true]

[motorcycle_noises]

[ He already knows Mars cares... about Joker, at least.

But he flashes a return thumbs up. ]

[foolmetwice]

-- I'll talk to my unit and get back to you guys. Ssssso.

[well now Mars is just awkward, how does he be tsundere about an idea he brought up]

[motorcycle_noises]

So I... guess we'll see how that ends up going.

[foolmetwice]

Uh. Yeah. Right.

[. . . . . . . .]

Anyway, sorry about your. . . hhhhhead.

[motorcycle_noises]

These things happen.

[ He looks pretty unbothered by that actually, but he looks slightly more concerned when he adds-- ]

Sorry about yours.

[foolmetwice]

[a wry snort]

These things happen.

[GOD]

I'm going to add it to my bingo card.

[motorcycle_noises]

Oh, a bingo card. Now there's a thought.

[foolmetwice]

I'll show it to you sometime. It's impressive.

[this is morbid]

[motorcycle_noises]

[ It's very morbid, but sometimes dark humour helps. ]

I'll bet, there's plenty of material to use for one after all.

[foolmetwice]

Stabbing, being shot, being buried alive, having my throat ripped out, and having my head blown off.

[nice]

I like that list so far.

[motorcycle_noises]

Beheading, stabbing, being burned alive, being buried alive, and having my head blown off would go on mine. If we're not counting repeats.

[foolmetwice]

You could fill up an entire row of bingo with that list.

[motorcycle_noises]

Is the growing inability to feel anything about it my prize?

[foolmetwice]

Yep. Congratulations; you've become desensitized.

[motorcycle_noises]

Hmm. I feel like that should be alarming.

[foolmetwice]

Nah. It makes dealing with this place easier, doesn't it?