DAY 1 - THIS IS BIG BROTHER

[thisisbigbrother]

[ You wake, heavy and paralyzed, in a place that's unfamiliar to you. While you're aware, you can only move your eyes and, if you're particularly ambitious, your head in tiny, impotent twitches.

A voice rings out, a booming male voice. If you're familiar with the cinema, you may feel like a movie preview is rolling.

This is what it says, breaking occasionally to sound more mechanical. Afterward, you feel your limbs prick with pins and needles, and you can move again. Look around. Where are you?

A female voice now filters in from an unknown source. It may seem like the house itself is speaking to you, but you can see cameras on a few of the walls. They seem to follow wherever you go. ]

The Diary Room will be closed until this evening. Big Brother encourages you to use this time to get to know your housemates. Cupcakes are available in the kitchen, one for each of you. The weather today is sunny, with a high of 80 Farenheit or 26 Celsius. Enjoy the pool.

[ That's it. ]


(( OOC: This post acts as a mingle thread for the morning of Day #1! However, if you prefer, you may post to the community itself.

The opening of the Diary Room will be announced sometime between Monday-Wednesday of next week and that post will act as the Diary Room. This IC day lasts until the 13th, when the new day will be announced by this account.

Claims continue to be open until August 4th, after which they will be closed. Feel free to send any questions to the mods via private plurk (terrabelle, tealeaves, charlieeee).

The schedule can be found here.

Have fun! ))

Comments

[talisker]

First Officer Douglas Richardson wakes up, on his back, on one of the illustrious beds. He hears the announcement, blinking slowly in the light of the room.

After it's over, and he can move again...

He rolls over, onto his belly, and presses his face into the pillow. When he wakes up, it'd better be to the alarm clock in his own bloody house.

I'M SUDDENLY REALLY GLAD FOR THIS ICON.

[surprisingrice]

Think again, Mr. Richardson. Arthur is many things, forgetful among those things, but he's not one to forget the backs of his pilots' heads, no sir.

He sees a lot of them. And he's incredibly glad to see one today. Hopefully this isn't a nap being thoroughly enjoyed, because one of the current resident man-cubs is intent on disturbing it. Given the situation, it's probably best to calm down and steadily help Douglas wake up before explaining things in a reasonable manner.

"Douglas! Douglaswakeup!" Just going to be almost-tripping-but-not-quite over to the side of the bed, here. Don't mind him.

Yes, perfectly executed.

[pseudopsychic]

Shawn wakes up in the pool. Rather, he wakes up on a raft in the pool, bobbing along as the announcement is made. It's honestly not the strangest place he's ever woken up in his life, but it is strange. Inwardly, he's doing a bit of a panic. Big Brother? That show suuuucksss! He'd be flailing if he could.

But when he's allowed to again, he doesn't feel like it. Instead, he's shrieking:

"HELP! OH GOD SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE! I CAN'T SWIM!"

The pool is about eight feet deep at most and he's in the shallow end. Also, he can swim.

[deduce]

Sherlock actually wakes up in the pool. Not on a raft (and perhaps 'wakes up' is the wrong term to use, as he's very much out cold with his head bowed down in the water), probably drowning for all anyone overlooking knows. Honestly, he seems to have gone past the struggling side of things and slipped straight into erring towards being completely unconscious due to lack of oxygen.

Well, what a fine start to Sherlock's day.

At least it'll make damned good television, right? Look at those cameras underwater. They're practically loving it.

[surprisingrice]

Now, far be it for Arthur to consider this a normal circumstance (even being as questionably intelligent as he happens to be), but the narrator did give some specific instructions. Something about big brothers, a game and that one film about the rock band?

He really couldn't get into that one.

Or into the speech as it was happening, actually, because as it turns out, waking up paralyzed and not in your house is really distracting. Makes you forget you're a morning person. It said he was interesting, though, that was nice? Arthur stays completely still for a minute before getting off of the couch he woke up on, just in case there's some mysterious third announcement.

Which there isn't! So. Good, he supposes.

Plus, cupcakes.

This could theoretically be worse.

[blue_steal]

Ordinarily, she's not a fan of sweet food, but Christine is half starved, so the kitchen and its cupcakes are a welcome reprieve. But a man shows up while she's eating. He seems nice enough.

"Oh. Um... Hi."

[aviation]

There's something about waking up in a bath that screams homeless, and it's not a taste Martin is entirely unused to (though living in an attic is a definite step up). This, though. This isn't an attic. This is a large, pearly white ceramic bath - smooth and thankfully free of water. What really wakes him up, though, is when the side of his head forcefully clangs into the tap immediately to his left, and oh, he's seeing stars from that one; he's having real trouble grasping onto reality because of that, and it takes a moment for his vision to stop swimming. Thankfully, there's something squashy to his right, so he leans against that - whatever it is.

This is really where the panic sets in. This isn't the bathroom the students use - this entire room could probably fit his attic and then some into it; there's a spacious shower, a toilet behind a door that practicallt melds into the wall and a rug underneath the bath where - oh.

Well, he knows what that squashy thing is, at least.

Unfortunately, he's in the full swing of a panic attack by this point, so the only sound he manages to make is a small, uncertain squeak that doesn't sound particularly manly.

In fact, it's down right pathetic - and that's the first impression the public are going to get on him.

tags that make all the sense it's on

[invalided]

How very respectful of the squashy thing, Martin. Okay, it doesn't actually make all that much difference to him at the time, apart from a grunt while John is getting his own bearings. He comes to with a very neatly contained jerk and a secure grip on the edge nearest him.

Jesus, this is a new one. Well, not waking up in a bath, strictly, but the concise and ridiculous announcement about why he's waking up in a bath not familiar and not playing host to some form of biohazard.

Fantastic. How completely fantastic. He's a bit the opposite in terms of composure, if still very clearly confused about everything going on.

Not going to question why he woke up pressed against some bloke he's never... met. A familiar-looking bloke he's never met, of course, but one he's never met nonetheless. He scans the bathroom quickly, purses his lips, looks down at himself to pick the least awkwardly positioned way out, and turns his attention to Martin with all due professional concern. Not everyone's had their share of being abducted.

"Are you all right? You'll need to try to calm down, can you do that for me?"

It doesn't seem like an asthma attack so far, however interesting that squeak was- that much he'll consider them both lucky for.

[thenewgirl]

Cupcakes.

Yes.

The Gods of television have totally smiled upon one Jess Day, who's pleased as punch to wake up to cupcakes. Really, really good cupcakes. And that's exactly why she's there, dressed in her finest vintage-hipster dress, kicking her feet happily on a kitchen stool and stuffing as many cupcakes as she can in her face.

"I always thought my life would be like terrible horror movie, not like Big Brother. Like, the ones where the main character is blonde and has breast implants and is running for her life? Except I'm not really blonde and these puppies are totally natural."

A pause, and blue eyes widen.

"And Cupcakes."

[sweetmotherofgod]

Heather's already in terrible mood, largely due to having come to under the stairs and immediately braining herself on them once she could move. And then she staggered out to the kitchen, figuring after the announcement that's where everyone will be headed, to find someone who was either a hallucination brought on by too many disney films as a kid or the absolute last person who ought to be eating all that sugar. She stares for a moment, taking in the wide eyes, swinging feet and upbeat attitude.

"Why didn't they give me those drugs?" she grumbles.

[pseudopsychic]

"If you were going for horror, I would say more Janine Melnitz."

Shawn sat on his own stool, peeling the wrapper off of a cupcake that was dark chocolate and beset by pink party frosting. Someone more conscientious would tell Jess that these cupcakes were meant for everyone, but Shawn's response is more better eat as many as I can before she finishes them all.

"I myself imagined my life to be more like Ferris Bueller's. That's still possible so long as Mia Sara's here." He licked the frosting off pensively, then reached for another cupcake. "Though I'm going to miss Cam."

[surprisingrice]

"The cupcakes are brilliant, aren't they?"

In the time it took him to manage to find the kitchen, Arthur had some time to adjust to the general concept of the house. As much as he can, actually, which means he's quickly moved on from confusion to discovering the parts of this place that are (in fact) brilliant, in order to redirect his focus to them. Nothing is ever all bad.

And Arthur Shappey has not once in his life had a bad experience with cupcakes.

[butterfaced]

"Whoaaa there Manic Pixie Dream Girl number 372, slow your roll."

Those were totally her cupcakes Jess was shovelling past those pouty little lips of hers and into what Wanda was sure was a bottomless-pit of a stomach. Damn those skinny bitches and their fast metabolism.

Wait a second! You are one of those skinny bitches!

Oh, right. Wanda will be claiming the remainder of the cupcakes now, don't mind her.

"Obviously I'm the main character in this movie, move over."

[blue_steal]

Christine's pretty reticent when she enters the room, letting Jess talk and remaining silent for awhile after until she's halfway done with a cupcake (starving!).

Finally--

"I always figured I'd get chainsawed in half."

[governing]

Mycroft's dealt with the initial deductions of the place, choosing instead to take up this cupcake that 'Big Brother' has offered him.

He sees the girl stuffing her face and decides that standing near her in his crisp suit is the best way to make himself known.

"One cupcake for each of us... and yet you only seem to be one person. Someone's being naughty."

Goddamnit if you've eaten his cupcake dsgjshg

[tabooed]

She wakes up on a cloud.

It's a moment on something resembling a cloud, anyways. A rare instant. The body is calmed. Mind cleared. C a l m.

And the moment sparks, set ablaze. Smoke to fill the air and choke back into reality, her reality. With a quick roll, she positions herself low and an arm crossing to reach—

"Fuck."

Oh. It isn't there.

The shine of steel does not greet the corner of her eye with it's gleam, leaving her hand hovering and without purpose. Instead, she stills it on the surface below. Soft. She's crouching on a couch, threatening when that should be quite opposite of her intended purpose—decapitating the closest thing that dares to breathe. Ridding of the suspected problem.

Now the woman will finally blink at her surroundings, blinking her vision into sharpening the blurs. Oh well, this will be all something to laugh about later, in good time.

so i automatically apologize for jess

[thenewgirl]

"That wasn't really a very good welcome," Jess winces, but the girl's probably disoriented. And, by the look of that gaze, pretty upset about being disoriented. Which is not good.

So, crouching on the couch like a ninja, Jess tries again, smiling as warmly as possible, holding out a cupcake she's grabbed from the room.

"Maybe something sugary'll stop you from looking like you're going to kill me if I open my mouth, huh?"

[tacet]

So this is not San Quentin.

Teo rises from the couch and immediately takes off his shirt--it's impulse, but like hell he's starting off with 'CDC PRISONER' on his back. It leaves him in a baggy white T as he balls it up. Big Brother, huh? They're...putting cons on game shows--no, that makes no sense. He decides he's not going to speculate on where they are or what's happened yet. They're here and someone the people running this put a fucking science fiction chip in his neck. He touches the back of his head, tentatively.

Well. Fuck it. Teo's seen this show on TV before, so he immediately smiles, bright and friendly, and waves. Hi, viewing audience. Time to make friends with Teo, the convict with a heart of gold. First things first: he goes looking for a pen and a pad of paper.

After that, second things second: he goes looking for someone small and needy looking to take under his wing. He approaches them with his pad of paper held out, reading--

Hi. I'm Teo. You can see my scars and no, I can't talk. But can I help you? Whatever this is I don't think we should do it alone.

He's naturally competitive, all right? Give him a game and he wants to at least do his best.

[blue_steal]

Oh, good. Someone else who is completely not at all into being forced to compete.

She sees his pad of paper and raises him ASL, loosely translated from English:

Do you sign? Do you read lips?

Yes, she sees the scars, but she doesn't want to assume, even though he's basically stated he's mute but not deaf. You never know!

[sweetmotherofgod]

Hope they're on after the watershed, because Heather spends the duration of the announcement trying to sit up. The immediate result of this is that when she manages, she smacks headfirst into the steps she's laying under and reacts in her usual ladylike manner.

"Motherfucker!"

Clutching her head, she crawls out from under them and glares at the room around her. This? Is so not her deal.

[tacet]

Cute swearing girl, huh? Maybe they could work some sexual tension. People act that up. (He was adjusting very fast to this concept. Hey, it wasn't prison. They had cupcakes. And girls. Actual girls when he was looking forward to maybe twenty five years celibate or turning gay inside.)

(He doesn't think of Sarah.)

Hi, Heather. There's a very tall guy with nasty scars on his throat approaching you eith a sign and a smile.

[greenest]

Oh good grief, she thinks. She can't be on camera or in bloody big brother. She's supposed to be a secret agent. She's pretty sure this is going to break at least a dozen and a half unspoken rules for Orderlings. She paces back and forth trying to suss out a solution. She couldn't find a way to contact anyone or speak in some secret code to get her to get bailed out. What if this was a trap?

Stopping in her tracks as she comes to the slow realization: What if the send Durham on me? They'll wipe my memory. Shit, shit, shit. So there she is, sobbing into her hands like a loon, letting tears smudge her mascara and eyeliner. What better way to deal with stress than cry it out in front of national television after all.

How is this my life? she thinks bitterly.

[tacet]

Oh, Jesus, lady, don't cry.

Teo approaches her more cautiously than blondie, touching her arm lightly before offering his sign. Hi, he's Teo, and your crying actually bothers him. He hates seeing women cry. It's a thing. If she'll let him, he coaxes her towards a couch and fetches some tissue.

Don't cry. It'll be okay.

He can't promise that. But just--stop crying, and he'll try. (God, she's pretty.)

[ecphrasis]

Molly was more than confused. She was bewildered, befuddled, discombobulated. Where was her apartment? Or Bart's, or that cafe she had been on her way to for a date? She's already up and on the move through the house, nearly panicking, trying to find an exit. She didn't know where she was. She had seen all kinds of horrible things run through her morgue, heard nearly every story imaginable about how someone had died.

So it was understandable if her imagination was running a little wild, right?

She yells out as she goes, passing the kitchen, some closed off room, bedroom doors. "H-hello? Is anybody else there?"

[butterfaced]

Confused was pretty much a description of Wanda's brain at any given time. It could be the most elementary concept but when you have a head full of voices, it makes things a lot more difficult.

Are those cupcakes? Buttercream?

Believe it or not, they were never really very relevant, either. But Wanda already knew where she was. How could she not? She watched enough reality television to know when she was in one. Obviously this other girl didn't, though.

"No one here but us chickens."

And these cupcakes... don't forget the cupcakes.

[blue_steal]

Christine wakes up draped over the bar like the ridiculous drunk she isn't, and groans, clutching her head. Did Marie lure her into yet another insane situation? No, Marie's insane situations usually look familiar. Okay, completely different insane situation. She peels herself off the bar, stands up shakily, and assesses her situation.

Right. Well, this is totally new, and the narrator monologue did not help at all.

Shaken and determined, Christine sets out to find the nearest human being and says to them, "Where is this? Who are you?"

[whippings]

That next human, unfortunately, happens to be a very irate-looking Franziska von Karma, who is standing by the bar with one of the provided cupcakes in her hand, uneaten. She has, however, peeled the paper away, and continues to eye it with suspicion before lifting her gaze to identify the source of the footsteps.

"This..." her voice comes out low and angry; she wishes she could control it better but she can't, she's still so shaken. "...This is a crime."

Feel free to come across her during any point of her 'investigation'!

[whippings]

The first thing Franziska von Karma had done upon regaining her capacity for movement was investigate - first to the kitchen where she'd collected her cupcake, only to throw it out, then to the bedrooms where she had found some of her clothes, also as promised, and surprisingly, her whip. She's grateful for that, though, holding it taut in her hands provides her with comfort. Not that she needs it (of course! she is a von Karma and not dependent on anything) but... well, it's better to have it than to be without.

She's traipsed through most of the rest of the house, her footsteps loud and angry, until she's made her way outside. Time to see what the boundaries of this estate were, and how difficult it would really be to escape.

Re: Feel free to come across her during any point of her 'investigation'!

[strongofheart]

Tear Grants awoke in a strange place to the sound of loud (and potentially angry) footsteps. Immediately, her hand went to the one of the knives strapped to her thigh, unsheathing it as she quietly followed the source. She couldn't remember being captured and she was not restrained, so capture was not likely. However, she didn't have any other ideas as to what could have happened. Unless...

She shook her head. The footsteps were louder now and once she turned the corner, she was able to see a woman holding a whip. Tear raised the small knife in her hand, ready to throw it at a moment's notice, and called out: "Who are you?"

[invalided]

Well, then. Nothing quite like a kidnapping and waking up in a bathtub to make one's day, is there?

On the positive side, it doesn't seem like anybody's injured or dying from what he sees on his way around. Confused and angry and very possibly panicking a bit, but in one piece, which he'll happily take over eerily calm and lined up with injuries. Even if this is possibly the most ridiculous thing he's ever going to be kidnapped for.

John Watson opts not to dwell on the matter, at least, which is practically the same in principle. No, he very calmly works his way through the rooms of the house this morning instead- greets the people he runs into, keeps an eye peeled for anything familiar, gets a rudimentary hang of the layout and finds no promising looking exits.

[strongofheart]

The man wandering the halls has no noticeable weapons -- most likely a civilian. Tear sheathes her own weapon, not wanting to worry the man, or cause any unfortunate misunderstandings.

She bows her head to him once in acknowledgement before introducing herself. "I'm Locrian Sergeant Tear Grants." Giving him a cursory look-over, making certain there were no obvious injuries, before adding; "Are you all right?"

[on_point]

Audition? Big Brother? No connection to the outside world? Grand prize? Teamwork?

If there was one thing Arthur was certain, it's that this was one shitty extraction job. Big Brother? Really? Not only did it completely fail to make him think he was awake, it was absolutely ridiculous. Whoever planned this job needs to get out of the business and fast. If they survived this job; which, if Arthur had anything to say about it, they would not.

The paralysis is interesting, a little unnecessary, but interesting. He waits for it to pass before he sits up on - is he on a couch? He looks around the room and frowns, taking in the decor with, well, distaste. "Could have hired a better architect." He mutters, because really. Really. This whole place was ridiculously tacky.

Granted, it did go along with the 'Big Brother' theme. At least they got that right.

He doesn't even bother taking out his totem - he doesn't remember how he got here, so this is most definitely a dream. No point is checking. He does stand, though, looking around the room expectantly. Their plan for extraction is going to have to come into play sooner or later - and if their point did any homework, they have to have a fairly complex plan.

Now it is just a matter of figuring what it is and fucking it over. And find out who these people are, too. Maybe. He just needs to play along before he can come up with his own little scheme. It's not like this team is going to get anywhere close to his secrets, so he doesn't really need to panic. Yet.

Yes, scope out the scene, try and figure out their plan. Good idea. He just needs to...stay away from his projections.