Outnumbered

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Surrounded by four white walls, there was little else to do but stare at them. To look at the paint that had started to chip off as time passed, or gouged off by former prisoners—anything to pass the time, slowly going mad, theorizing absurd meanings from the wall's blank stare. The cells were hollow cubes of concrete, one way in, no windows. In there, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed or even if it was night or day. It was completely disorienting by design. Given enough time, a person could forget their name in there… maybe that was the point. The isolation was total and the stimulation was zero. No sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind.

All the inmates were issues a standard white T-shirt and trouosers with the word 'Maxicom' in bright red letters across the chest, right above the heart. There was only one way into each cell, a single door with a slat sliding window. Other prisoners could be heard, but not seen. The only way Mouse knew it was midday was because she heard one of the cells sliding open. The man begged as the soldiers flooded his cell. His screamed and fought, the wrestling noise hard to ignore. Finally, the guards subdued him. Creeping towards the edge of her cell on her bare hands and knees, she looked out through the small tray window on her door, watching as the elderly man screamed and writhed as he was hauled down the corridor to the door.

The big white door at the end of the hall. A few inmates called it God's Door because it was big, sterile white, and it was where everyone knew Named ones inevitably met God.

Mouse scratched at the door and a fleck of white paint peels away under her nail. Mouse was young, twelve or thirteen, and when she was growing up, she always had the loudest voice in the room wherever she was. Her conversations were buoyant and intended to be heard. There was something of an unsatisfied thespian in her, but she hadn't spoken a word since the imprisonment.

From God's door, a guard stepped out. He was alone and his face was as stiff as his standard-issued Maxicom guard uniform. Pressing her eyes to the slat until the metal cut into her face, Mouse watched until rather suddenly—an alarm buzzed and the door slid open. She screeched in surprise as she fell forward, hitting the tile floor outside her cell. She looked up at the guard, at all the cell doors opening around him.

"Welcome to the revolt," the guard said, "I am 778-UAB-89A, but you can just call me Six. Now, let's get all of you out of here."

OBJECTIVES:

You are trapped. Whether you've been there for only a few hours or a few weeks, you are imprisoned in Maxicorp's facility and you don't know what is waiting for you. All you know is that you're scared, hungry, cold, thirsty, and confused. You're desperate for escape but you don't know how. The cell walls are too thick, the bars too strong, the outlook to bleak. Through the food tray slot in the door, you can see out. You can hear the other inmates around you.

Then, suddenly, your cell opens. On the other side is a guard who calls himself 'Six.' He welcomes you to the revolt, but you don't know what that means.

Your cell door is open meaning you can see, talk, and touch the other inmates, but there are no other open doors. The God Door is still locked and closed and you have nowhere further to go. It's strange the escapee alarm hasn't sounded yet.

You are welcome to have your character respond however you see fit.

GM NOTES:

Welcome to Outnumbered! :D I welcome you to introduce your characters a little and get to know one another. The first GM post is pretty low-key. I didn't want to do anything too exciting because I'll be gone for a while and didn't want anyone to get stuck if they had questions and I wasn't around to answer. That being said, don't be too underwhelmed by the first post. Once I return and I get the next GM post up, we'll be kicking it into high gear.

You can interact with Six or Mouse. (: They just won't be able to respond to you until I get back. That being said, I encourage you to interact with other prisoners. Feel free to collab, if you'd like.

Next GM post: ~April 1st or 2nd

 

[Aravhorn]

And then he woke up.
As he opened his eyes, all he could see were the white ceiling of his cell. "Quite fitting", he thought. The color reminded him of a white fog, the same one which clouded his thoughts ever since he was Named. Or maybe this is what the Afterlife looked like, and his dead body was rotting in a slum somewhere? Only the throbbing headache hinted him otherwise. "Unless having a terrible hangover is a common thing in Heaven, in which case I'm royally fucked.", for a moment, he smiled at how terrible his joke was, only to whince in pain and rub his head afterwards. He had a sneaking suspicion that this might not be mere side effect of inebriation. He tried to gather his thoughts: "Where am I? And how did I get here?"

Slowly, the memories were coming back to him. An empty bottle... a dark alley... then, a sudden flash of light, and finally, the feeling of electricity running through his body. "*sigh* Guess I had it coming. Damn it..." he knew that getting drunk would eventually bring him to his demise, but what other choice did he have? He lost everything he had, his friends were hunting for his head, and on top of it all, now he was labelled a criminal by Tartarus. And for what? Just for simply being in the wrong place and time. If only he weren't that stupid and didn't pick up that call... "No, let's not delve in the past right now. I have bigger problems to worry about."

As his headache slowly faded away, he looked around his cell. It was a square white room, completely devoid of furniture of any kind. There were no windows, and the only entrance was blocked by a solid white metal door with a small tray window underneath. "...Hrmph, at least they could've put up a bed in here or something." Carefully, he stood on his feet and walked towards the cell's entrance. Then, he tried to pull the door, but to no avail. "...Figures."
Defeated, he sat in a corner of the room, when he noticed the words written on his t-shirt. "Maxicom, huh? So much for a "fresh start"... " That name was familiar to him. It could be seen almost everywhere around the city, be it through graffiti or pamphlets plastered around the most desolated districts. They were filled with false promises of safety and a warm bed for the Named, of a new place they could call home. Fortunately, he was smart enough to know that it was an elaborate trap all along. Unfortunately, that didn't stop him from falling straight into Tartarus hands in a silver platter.

Suddenly, while he was lost in thoughts, he heard a soft buzz coming from the door and moments after it slid wide open. Startled, he jumped on his feet and immediately regretted it, as he placed his hand on the wall, waiting for the head rush to clear away. Then, cautiously, he approached the open entrance and peeked outside; there was a very large hall, at least five stories high, covered to the top with cell doors. Oddly enough, bar the huge white gate on his right, every single cell was open, with its owners walking outside, looking around in confusion.

Without letting his guard down, he stepped outside his cell. Whatever was going on, it surely can't be good... And even after everything he had to go through, he wasn't planning to meet his Maker just yet.​

 

[Banana-senpai]

K E N
(K80-1E7-87N)​

Relaxing was not the doctor's strong front, but the white and clear surroundings actually soothed him. He didn't know how long he was lying down, but he was too far in his thoughts. He was not in any sort of pain, but he was bored. Boredom isn't bad. He recalled the passage from a psychology book.

It worried him that he would rot by himself in that room, but it was an afterthought he pushed farther and farther into the back of his mind. Instead, he busied his mind with his memories. Like a computer sorting out its files, he was thinking about his patients in the last couple of months. He was remembering them, their cases and the procedures he has done and advice he has given. He was thinking back on them in full detail, every word they spoke with each other and every stitch or chemical involved. He had gone as far back as six months, fifty patients.

Subconsciously, he was trying to figure out who betrayed him. However, that was also an afterthought he pushed away.

Unusual sounds made him open his eyes. An unusual sight made him get on his feet. A guard welcomed him into a "revolt" and he merely blinked. The guard, who called himself Six, had gone to the other cells. The doctor took inquisitive steps to the door and found other inmates peeking out of their own cells.

I can't be part of something I didn't sign up for, he thought, scrutinizing the other inmates. Most of them didn't look too well, as any normal human would seem after total isolation. He had a million theories and wanted to have a look at them all to see how they would respond.

Time to work. His conclusion, helping others should be prioritized. He turned his attention to the lean and tired looking man came out from the room next door.

"Are you alright?" he asked the man. "I suppose you'd be as alright as you can be under the circumstances."

The doctor spotted a young girl who fell on the floor across the man's cell. "Oh, she doesn't seem fine-"

He hurriedly helped her up. "Are you alright? Can you stand?"

He glanced at the tired man from across the hall.

interacting with Nightingale and Mouse

 

[MST3K 4ever]

CHARACTER NAME Jordan

K33-R44-M13​

Leaning against a wall in his cell he just stared at the other wall across from him for a moment. Picking himself up he stood in the middle of the room said, "All right let's get back to it." With that he closed his eyes and began to imagine being out in the middle of the ocean. There was a shimmer of what looked to land, but there was no real way of knowing what it was unless he swam to it. He moved his arms in a swimming motion, but in his mind he was moving towards the shimmering image. This was one of the survival tactics that he learned as a soldier. "Do something to occupy your mind. Don't focus on your situation for too long or doubt and fear will set in, and doubt and fear are your two greatest enemies as a soldier," his commanding officer told him in basic training. He was able to roughly estimate how long he worked out by the rate he sweated and how his arms felt, so he decided that a, roughly, forty five minute "swim" was enough. If there was one thing he knew about it was his body. It was a finely tuned weapon designed for combat and keeping the people safe within their system of law. That very same system which kept others safe failed him when his family was killed.

Now that he stopped his thoughts began to drift once again to his family. His beautiful wife and son were his world to him. Though he was a soldier and believed in the system his family was the anchor in his life. He sat back down and closed his eyes. The image of his wife and son standing in the back yard filled his mind. He smiled as he said, "Well hello again you two. How are you all today?" The images did nothing more but smile at him. He nodded as the skies around them darkened and their images were replaced with a rain soaked alley at night. The image of their killer dominated the alley, and then suddenly the killer's head exploded. He could feel his breathing start to become a bit more rapid as the image of standing in front of a judge was now in his mind. Feeling the medals he earned, which now meant nothing, being torn away from his chest. The fibers of the rank patches on his shoulders being ripped and thrown to the ground as the Judge pronounced sentence against him.

Just then he opened his eyes and shook his head. He said, "Come on pull it together. That's all in the past. Focus on the here and now. Don't let 'em break you like this. Those bastards aren't going to win like this. They're cowards who refuse to face you like a man." A tactic his Commanding Officer taught him in surviving torture was to develop either sympathy or contempt for your captors. These people represented a flawed broken system, so no way would they get his sympathy. He stood up and said, "You worked your arms now it's time for the legs." He began to jog in place with his eyes closed. He imagined he was on a road near an open field, and he was moving along at a brisk pace.

Then there was a sound at the door. It wasn't the usual sound for meal time, but rather it sounded like the door was opening. He was ready for anything except the words of "Welcome to the revolt." His first thought was that he was finally going insane, but he shook his head and then slapped himself hard. He shook his head again and said, "No, I'm not dreaming." He stepped out of his cell rubbing the side of his face, and looked around to see others stepping out their cells as well.

 

[PoetLore]

Kyne sat on the floor of her cell and leaned against the wall opposite the door staring at the small slit there. Her thick black hair was braided and hanging down her back in a rope to about her waist and cushioning her head a bit against the hard stone blocks of the cell. Not that she was able to even feel anything anymore to notice the small comfort of that fact.

There were exactly ninety blocks on each wall, with the exception of the wall she was now staring at because of the door. that wall had only Sixty-nine blocks making for a cage of four hundred twenty nine blocks and a door. Probably didn't cost too much to build such a structure, she estimated mentally. And she wondered how many others had sat looking at the door, as she was now, pondering how long it would be before they were dragged off to the God door.

She heard someone screaming and moved over to the door to peer out the slit, it was an older man. Why were they doing this? What was going on here? She watched until the God door closed and she said a silent prayer to the man who'd just been dragged inside it. She felt anger well up inside her and she rose on her knees and banged on the door as hard as she could as she yelled out in frustration and helplessness.She banged once more and the door opened. She was so shocked she sat back on her heels and stared at it. Surely that was not her doing.

Standing to her feet she stepped out and saw a guard and was about to bum rush him when he spoke. "Revolution?" she asked and then looked around at the others. She noticed someone helping a small girl up off the floor. "Is she ok?" she asked looking at the two but then looking around for a way out, "Anyone see an exit?" she asked hoping someone had a better vantage point that she did. She was relatively close to the God door, but this was a pretty long narrow hall with doors down bother sides as far as she could see, or cared to see.

She saw another man then that had stepped out of his cell, "I hope we aren't," she said honestly to his comment, "Can you see any exits...Daylight anywhere?" she asked him.

 

[Joan]

Ethan sat in the corner, his slouching posture and half-closed eyes giving off an impression of being relaxed and too tired to care what was going on. This was only partly true. While he was tired and trying to keep relaxed, part of his consciousness was continually focused on the cell door and the sounds he could hear outside. He hated the idea of being taken by surprise. He always had.

The screams of a man pierced his ears, and his eyes slid shut in relief. It wasn't him, not today, and he was infinitely grateful for that. Still, for a moment, he allowed himself to wonder...Who was it that had been taken? Why was he here? Did he have anybody that cared for him?

Then, the moment was gone, and Ethan prepared to settle down into sleep. The danger had passed for now, and unless Maxicom broke their routine, he was safe for the time being. He was just settling down into a slightly more comfortable posture when some kind of alarm went off, and his eyes were immediately open again.

What the hell? he wondered as he watched his cell door slide open. He could barely make out the words of "Six"before the other Named ones began talking. He slowly stood up and moved toward the open door, listening carefully to the sounds around him while trying to process what Six had said.

Revolt?

He stepped outside the door, and his eyes fell on the young girl on the ground with another man in the process of helping her up. They seemed to be taking care of themselves, and he glanced around, noting the others that had already stepped out of their cells. Two men, one of whom looked tired and wary, the other with a hardened look to him. One woman close by, talking more than all of them combined, asking if anybody saw an exit.

Well, she has a point. We need to find a way out of here, he thought to himself as he began looking around for an exit.

 

[Rae]

[fieldbox="Maeva, #008080, solid, 10, Coming Soon"]

Maeva had circled her personal Hell about a thousand times, and she would do it a thousand more. Anything to keep moving, anything to forget the cold sweat making her clothes stick. She didn't know how long she'd been trapped in that damned cell, but she knew it hadn't been long. Not long enough to complete the horrible cycle of alcohol withdrawal. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone even a few hours without a swig of whiskey or something even stronger, and now she'd gone at least days without the sweet relief. She absentmindedly reached to her side, expecting to find her trusty hip flask. It was long gone, and the disorienting monotony of the room did nothing to protect her fragile sanity.

She kept moving, circling and pacing in desperation. If she stopped, even for a second, she would remember. Remember the blood, the sickening paleness of his body. He had been stark white, much like these accursed walls. Maeva shook her head violently, banishing the memories that had been burned into her mind. She wanted to run far, far away. Somewhere no one would ever find her, somewhere where she could forget it all or drown it in a drunken stupor. She stopped suddenly, letting out a frustrated cry and banging her head against the wall. It wasn't enough to cause injury, but it sent shooting pain throughout her skull. Swearing, she slid to the floor, curling into a helpless ball. She fiddled with her fingers, staring at the small tan line on her right ring finger. Like the bastards they were, they'd stripped her of everything. Her alcohol...and the last piece she had left of her father. That ring had been more than just a memento; it had been the only thing that kept her from completely losing herself. She felt inexplicably lost without it, reduced to hapless wandering in the confines of Hell.

Her head snapped up when she heard the struggled cries of the old man a few cells down from her own. She crawled to the slit in her door, watching him in sickening relief as he was dragged through the halls to God's Door. She said no prayer after him, for she knew his soul was already damned. Just like her...just like everyone here. Innocent or not, she was damned. If God was real, she wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place. The only reality she'd ever known was Hell, and she had no doubt that Hell is where she'd end up if there was an afterlife. Hope had been sucked out of her a long time ago, replaced with sorrow and guilt.

Minutes later, God's Door opened once more, and she watched with narrowed eyes as a guard made his way down the hall. Suddenly, however, her own door slid open, leaving her bewildered in a crouching position. Unlike the little girl, she didn't fall, but it was obvious that she struggled to get to her feet once more. Besides the cold sweat, she had a pounding headache and a trembling in her limbs that refused to cease. Whether spurred on by anxiety or withdrawal symptoms, she wasn't sure. Probably both, for all she knew. She stepped out in hesitation, gawking at the sudden freedom. She'd barely even heard what the supposed guard even said. Something about a revolt. She didn't give one flying fuck. Maeva only cared about the sudden swell of joy as she stepped out of that godforsaken cell for the first time in what had felt like eternity.

She moved tentatively, watching the others with varying degrees of wariness. Corrupt system or not, these people were criminals. Some were more dangerous than others, she was sure of that. One man in particular seemed to have quite the athletic build, on top of his towering height. Biting her lip, Maeva leaned against the wall, staying silent for the moment as she surveyed her fellow prisoners. Strangely, the alarms hadn't started blaring, and the only doors that had opened so far were the cell doors. Filled with sudden apprehension, her gaze moved over to the "guard" that appeared to be the reason for their taste of freedom. Was he really here to help them? Why wasn't there an exit? She'd been fooled before by Maxicom; she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.[/fieldbox]

 

[Aravhorn]

[Small Group Collab]


Out of everything that could've happened at that very moment, he never expected that he would be approached by a complete stranger who, with an eerily calm voice, would say: "Are you alright? ...I suppose you'd be as alright as you can be under the circumstances."
As he said that, hovewer, the man spotted a young girl on the other side on the hall, and proceeded to help her out as he waited for an answer.
"...Do I know you?" he asked with a mix of confusion and suspicion.

...


At first Jordan wasn't sure what to make of Six. Could this be a form of psychological torture? Let the prisoners take a few steps out and then attack them? Or let them get a few feet outside before the electronic sensors fry a few of them?

Jordan shook his head and continued to walk in the hall among the confused mass of people. He figured if this really were psychological torture they would've never let them get out of the cells. They would've had some kind of electrical device nail them before they got out of the cell.

A young lady asked Jordan if he saw any exits. He shook his head, but looked at the young lady because her voice sounded familiar. Jordan said, "I have no idea. This must be really happening, because right now there should be a few dozen guards on top of us. Beating us into submission. Not to mention no alarms going off." He looked at the black haired young lady and said, "I assume Six has paid you a visit as well?"


...


Kyne was scanning the corridor for and doors that would lead them OUT of the compound. Yes, she had spoken to people but she was much more interested in getting out of this place.

She had serious misgivings about Six, even though he'd opened the doors to their cells. She head the one man speaking about this phenomenon and she shrugged, "I don't think I care WHY we are out, but I want OUT out," she said, "This corridor is just a bigger ce..."

She stopped then and turned abruptly to actually look at the man speaking, "He has come to visit you?" Now her mind was full of questions. "Why?" she asked him suddenly intent on him instead of finding an exit.

Her voice was low and cold as she spoke, "Not one person has set foot in that damned cell since they threw me in there...who ARE you?" It was accusatory and it was meant to be. Who was this guy and why was he 'special'? Was this some kind of sick test to see who was going crazy from the captivity? Her dark brown eyes just looked at him like she was attempting to see into his soul.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Jordan was somewhat taken aback by the young lady's tone and words. Clearly self-expression was not an issue with her. Jordan replied, "Hey I'm just trying to figure out what is going on here like everyone else right now." He looked around at everyone else and said, "Frankly I'm amazed that the guards or no one else has made their way here yet. Also listen...." Jordan looked back at the young raven haired lady and said, "No tones or alerts nothing. Whatever has happened has obviously affected the security system."

Jordan thought for a moment and said looking around, "Something is definitely off here, because we've been out of our cells for more than just a few moments." Jordan's mind began to work again as the impossibility of the situation began to wear off he said, "That means the Military should be here by now beating us back into our cells." Jordan looked at her and said, "I used to be in the Military more than once we had drills and simulations for this sort situation on a weekly basis."

The hallway was still filling with prisoners as he took a step away from the young lady. Looking back at her Jordan said, "Look, when my cell door open a guard stood there he called himself six and said welcome to the revolt." Shaking his head Jordan said, "I have no clue what that or any of this means at this moment. All I know is we have a chance to get out of here. I don't know about you but I'm willing to take that chance. It's better that we die on our feet than live on our knees."

Interactions
@PoetLore

 

[PoetLore]

Ex-military. She wasn't sure which bothered her more the fact that he was military, or that he was EX-military. Was he a plant? Were they planning to use him to find all the named ones that were hiding from Maxicom? She looked at the big guard and then at the man speaking, "Well then...since you know their tactics...." she said with a note of skepticism, "When they DO come where will they come from? Which direction?"

Her warning radar was on high alert as she watched both the guard AND this ex-military guy. After what happened with her best friend, she didn't believe she could trust anyone but she DID believe in advantageous alliances. If he was legit, then his knowledge would be useful and could possibly mean the difference between survival and ending right back on that cold floor waiting for death to come knocking. Like him, she was ready and willing to leave Maxicom behind. There still didn't appear to be any visible means of escape though.

She let out a slow breath and looked up at the BIG guard, "SO...this revolution you mentioned...does it perchance happen OUTSIDE this hallway? Possibly even OUTSIDE this building?" Outside being the operative word in her mind. "And if so...could we begin an orderly evacuation of this place...oh..you know...NOW?"