Game Over

A

Artsydaze

Guest
Original poster
OOC

((Try to expound on your situation as much as possible and stay in third person, please!))

"Game Over. You are Dead, Continue?"

This was the first thing you heard as you came back to yourself and extricated yourself from the strange numbness that took you after a sharp, blinding pain. You were in the dark, both literally and figuratively and felt yourself float in nothingness.

Took aback by the question you acquiesced, still in shock and wondered if this was the afterlife so many people talked about. A soon as you nodded your head, however, a blinding light enveloped you, filling the space you were in in a whole new nature.

You were now standing in a white room with no discernible boundaries before two strangely moving statues that seemed to represent yourself as either a male of a female. Over those statues floated smoky words of the darkest black imaginable that spelled 'Choose your Gender'. Looking closer at the statues, you noticed they both were standing on a small pedestal with a strand stone protruding from it with the word 'Select'. Was those buttons the way to go forward? But forward to where?

Both statues smiled and waved at you, wanting you to choose them, what should you do?
 
Annoyance registered in the form of anger and confusion. Hester Backhaus had been barely a foot away from his prize, a small trace that would help the allegiance conquer its enemies. Now he was in some white-wall hole with a couple of imbecile statues with grins plastered to their faces and a choice to make.

He yelled, cursing and fists bunched up. He had been close! The piece of evidence could have made or break the revolution, and it was gone in the matters of seconds. The last thing he remembered -- his mind was foggy as he tried to think -- was a shadow of a man through the shattered glass opening. There was gunfire, he thought, but he wasn't sure.

The lack of answers made Hester impatient. The smack of his dark, hulking hand over the SELECT button reverberated around the room; another flash of light filled the area, disappearing as promptly as it had come.
 
Rusti was utterly confused. Yeah, he had expected the whole waking up to a AK barrel to his forehead, but not this white...room? If that was even the definition of this place. Rusti was always up for anything no matter what it was. It has been like that since the day he was born. He simply shrugged and picked the male statue that seemed to be mental, and touched the select button with his index finger. He tried not to laugh at this weird male statue that seemed to be so happy to see him for some reason. He watched the select button disappear as he touched it and waited awkwardly.
 
His body, or the ethereal form of it, shifted then, becoming as bright as the room it contained and took a blank form like one of a dummy as the facial features as well as any distinguishing mark on his body were wiped away. The cleansing done, Hesper, or the one once known as Hesper found hiself shrick to the size of a baby, floating in the air by his tought alone as the two statues melted into the floor.

His emotion cooled then, and he felt strangely detached as a handful of doors appeared before him. All were made or golden material and were inscribed with a strangely moving shadowy text that described each of the door's hidden realm. Most doors seemed foggy in appearance and could not be reached, more still were far away and nearly indistinguishable from their surroundings as only four defined doors remained that said:

Low Class: Mother: Molly Bennet, Prostitute. Father: Francisco Perez, Drug Dealer. Status: Illegitimate. Difficulty: High. Country: USA.

Middle Class: Mother: Lucie Perrier, Housewife. Father: Jean Perrault: Lawyer. Status: Legitimate. Difficulty: Easy. Country: France.

Upper Class: Mother: Lucisa Galvetti, Super Model. Father: Don Anatole Soresi, Mafia Lord. Status: Legitimate. Difficulty: Medium. Country: Italy.

Orphan: Mother: Jane Bonham, Singer. Father: Marcus Floyd, Actor. Status: Illegitimate. Difficulty: Very High. Country: Great Britain.

"Please Choose an Origin and step inside your Destiny." Said the same voice as earlier as the doors nearly writhed in anticipation, a strange sight comming from supposedly inanimate objects.

His new life was but a few steps away, behind one of the four door, the soon to be boy merely had to choose one destiny.
 
As soon as he selected his new form did Rusti's world shift in a white light, his form becoming black and infant-like as he floated in the air. As he came back from his dizzy spell, the soon to be infant found himself before doors as a small voice whispered in his ethereal ear.

"These are possible destinies you may try, more will unlock themselves to you as you evolve as a soul but for now these are the only ones available." The soothing voice was strange as there was no one nearby but was more or less welcome with it's somewhat vague directives. The boy looked at each doors, four in number, each with something written on them.

The First door was worn in appearance and was the closest. A shaky ands was written on it:

Low Class: Mother: Molly Bennet, Prostitute. Father: Francisco Perez, Drug Dealer. Status: Illegitimate. Difficulty: High. Country: USA.

The Second door was tidy and plain. Boring, but felt safe as it read:

Middle Class: Mother: Lucie Perrier, Housewife. Father: Jean Perrault: Lawyer. Status: Legitimate. Difficulty: Easy. Country: France.

The Third door was sparkling and Rusti could hear fake laughs from it, the whole thing felt ritzy but had a sense of forbording to it as well. It read:

Upper Class: Mother: Lucisa Galvetti, Super Model. Father: Don Anatole Soresi, Mafia Lord. Status: Legitimate. Difficulty: Medium. Country: Italy.

The last door was pitiful and felt dangerous as a childish hand had crawled some words on it's dilapidated surface:

Orphan: Mother: Jane Bonham, Singer. Father: Marcus Floyd, Actor. Status: Illegitimate. Difficulty: Very High. Country: Great Britain.

"Choose, or you will be lost forever!" Said the voice by Rusti's ear urgently, a bunch of sounds then started to make scratching and pleading noises then, just behind the doors.

Rusti had to choose.
 
Hester studied his small form, stretching out his limbs, testing each ligament as if it was newly formed. He would have considered the doors more carefully, but his thoughts were wishy-washy as the realm BLANK. Tearing his gaze from his child's body, Hester read the doors. His options were clear but what lay behind each door -- what possible future would he have once he made his choice? The sense of familiarity, a reel of cut-scenes from another time, came from Door Four, but nothing more came to mind. He wouldn't have answers this time.

He sighed, a soft coo, before floating towards Door One. Life would be hard, but it would be a challenge. Something he was looking forward to.
 
No matter what happened to Rusti he always kept his weapons handy. He doesn't have them now, but with money they can be bought. His skills took years of training. With money that can be bought. He kept his gaze off of the orphan door. It brought back too many bad memories from when he was taken in by the doctors. He was genetically built physically, and almost mentally, if it wasn't for the dark figure that had saved him. He kept his eye on the higher class door and walked closer 'I need this,' he thought to himself. 'I need to continue from where I left off.' He hesitantly opened the higher class door walking through, watching the fourth door out of the corner of his eye.
 
Tilvarel blinked, wondering why she suddenly felt so light, then she looked down to see that she had been stripped of sword, shield and armor. "So…the giant won." She sighed, "Well…damn."

She looked at the two statues, at the last minute swallowing a prayer to a Deity who she had followed all her life. She was no longer a Knight of the Order of the Sacred Flame or anything else really. "But ," she thought, considering the statues before her, "I definitely have a chance to be something else".

The appearance that her entire life had been something of a game was not really a surprise to her since sometimes that was the only way she could consider things without going mad. Constantly at war with all types of creatures she had long ago discarded the fierce idealism and single minded faith that had led to her seeking knight-ship in her youth. For so long she had only stayed with the Order because it was the only life she knew and the only friends she had. Starting over didn't dismay her, it excited her deeply.

Contemplating the statues, she carefully planned her response as if she were contemplating a foe to be overcome. As she could see it there were advantages and disadvantages to either gender. She had spent a lifetime as a woman doing what was usually considered a man's job; it could be nice to take a more relaxed traditional female role. "Or perhaps," she thought wickedly, "even a daring one." Her Order had not been a particularly prudish one but although she had shared a bed with one or two men in her time she had often contemplated the very accomplished, and therefore expensive, courtesans and wondered what their lives were like.

Still being a man would probably make life so much easier. Men could be whatever they wanted in whatever society they found themselves in. Rarely was there a society that women ruled and even then they usually didn't last for long. However, men were often immediately classed by their physicality. Unless they were lucky enough to be born into a high class they mostly had to use their muscles to get what they wanted. Tilvarel was proud of her mental prowess, honed by a lifetime of out thinking foes many times her size and weight, and did not particularly care to discard that.

With that thought she smiled, walked over to the female statue and pushed the select button.
 
The sudden switch from eternal darkness to the sudden harsh white stung her eyes, squinting them shut and covering them with her hands. Blinking rapidly, her vision began to return, the white room coming into focus. Where was she? This didn't seem familiar at all. Was she dreaming? A quick look down at her hand said no, no she was not. This was all very real. What had happened? All she could remember was noise, loud like thunder, and shouting. And then pain. Horrible, horrible pain. And then nothing. Darkness. A growl slipped past her lips, frustrated with her lack of memory. Movement caught her eye, two statues standing before her, both baring bright smiles. She ignored them a moment, watching the smokey letters float above their head. Hesitantly, she reached forward, letting her fingers run through the letters. They misted and reformed, suspended in air by nothing. Her hand was snatched back, clutched to her chest. Where the hell was she?!

The young lady took a step backwards, reading the sentence again and again, letting it sink in. Choose her gender? Wasn't she a she? None of this made any sense! Where was that voice? The voice from before? They must have known something. They had to.
"Where am I?!" The worlds tumbled from her lips, hands gripping her head, the blonde hairs falling forward into her face. There was a soft echo as the words drifted, filling the empty space. The sound made her feel so alone. A shuddering sob broke through, the young woman curling in on herself. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be with her family again. They had been with her, hadn't they, when it all happened? Why weren't they here?

Slowly, Lyth's gaze lifted, staring back at the statues, drifting slowly between each one. Maybe.. maybe her family had gone ahead already? Maybe they had made this choice, and were waiting for her at... wherever this would bring her. Straightening and regaining her composure, she walked forward, pressing select on the statue of the woman, only a hint of uncertainty in her gaze.