trustfell | Welcome.

It doesn't matter where you last were or what you were doing. What matters is that you're waking up in a decently comfortable bed in a room that's completely unfamiliar. You may feel a bit groggy, like you've slept for too long, but that will fade in time.

Welcome to Graceside Preparatory Academy.

You may want to pick up the key to your room before you leave, though don't worry. Your door won't lock automatically so you won't be locked out if you've forgotten to pick it up. The hallway outside your room is most likely full of other confused students by now and should you turn around to look at the door of the room you just left, you'll find a nameplate with your name printed on it. There's a single word underneath it with no explanation. This is your title, but don't worry about that right now.

Depending on when you left your room there may be a clock chiming in the foyer up ahead. It seems like it's seven, though it's difficult to tell if it's seven in the morning or seven at night. There aren't any windows, after all. Should you venture into the room with the clock, you'll find that the only exit is closed - there's absolutely no way to break down that steel bulkhead. It looks like you're stuck in here for the time being.

The foyer also holds some very interesting information. There's a bulletin board with twenty-nine pictures on it. Beside each picture is some very specific and very familiar information. Feel free to examine it. The bulletin board is large enough for plenty of you to gather around and gawk. Don't try to get at it though, that glass in front of it is very thick. If you try to break it, you'll find out the hard way that it's shatterproof. Sorry about that.

Perhaps even more of a concern than the glass is the list beside the profiles. It looks like a set of rules. You might want to examine those, though they're not providing much of an explanation for why you're here or how you got here.

So relax and get to know your fellow students. You might be stuck here for awhile.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What happened?

[Susan's not really all that interested, but she did used to be a nurse. She really doubts they are anyway, so if she can tell him they aren't then maybe he'll stop complaining.]

[He breathes in, with a little difficulty.]

I'm... not entirely sure.

I'm pretty sure there's a couple of good cracks in there, and my left arm's broken.

Don't stand up.

[...well, he does seem to be having trouble breathing. Susan approaches to kneel down next to him, gesturing towards his chest.]

Let me see. I'm a nurse. [Well all right, she's not NOW. But she doesn't need to say as much.]

[He manages to awkwardly putt his jacket off with one hand.]

You need my vest off?

That'd help.

[Let's see. Is there any visible bruising here?]

[He pulls it off.

His chest is definitely bruised, but if she's familiar with how bruising works, she'll be able to tell that it doesn't look like he had the shit kicked out of him, or that he was struck from the side at all-- instead, it looks like all the bruises are on his stomach and blossom to the sides.

It looks more like he tried to go Die Hard on an explosive more than anything else. He's probably lucky he wasn't injured any worse than he already is.]

[Susan doesn't look impressed outwardly, but that is some nasty bruising. For lack of anything else to do, she presses gently around the rib cage, watching his breathing.]

You're probably right. There's not much to be done for that. Can you take a deep breath?

[He breathes in. It's clearly a painful breath, but it seems Cabanela has a high pain tolerance, because he doesn't do much more than let out a slight pained noise and wince.]

I sure wish I could remember what the hell happened.

It doesn't really look like you were in a fight...

[She sits back on her heels. No more need to poke his chest.]

Keep breathing normally, even if it hurts. You'll get lung problems if you don't. They'll knit on their own. [Maybe there's some pain medication somewhere around here? She'll keep an eye out.] Now your arm?

It doesn't look like I was in a fight?

[That surprises him.]

What do you think happened, then?

[There's no doubt in his voice, just curiosity.

He holds out his left arm. Thankfully, the bone isn't sticking out or anything; the break is clean, but horribly bruised. It looks like he's fractured one of the bones in his forearm, if the bruises are anything to go by.]

It looks like you were only hit once? And not by a fist or anything like that. You're lucky - I think whatever it was came at you hard.

[Maybe he was hit by a car or something? She doesn't guess what could have done it out loud. How is she to know? Let's just take a look at the arm.]

This should be set... [She takes a cursory glance around the room. Their captors probably aren't kind enough to give them medical supplies...she may have to just find something.]

Huh. How about that.

[He looks baffled, but what can he do about it now?]

At least it was a clean break. Maybe we can improvise something.

Can you walk?

[He can't just stay here forever; if he's up to it, he may as well come with. Get moving while she can keep an eye on him.]

[He tries to sit up.

It hurts, but after a moment he nods.]

I'm thinkin' I'll be able to walk out of here just fine, maaan.

Good.

[She offers him a hand up at the nod.] There's a storage room down the hall. Maybe our host has been kind enough to leave us something useful.

[He takes her hand, flashing her a grateful smile, before he manages to pull himself unsteadily to his feet.]

What kind of host would leave us without medical care?

How rude of them.

[Steady on there. She's stronger than she looks, she can help support his weight.

...god, this is bizarre.]

We'll have to lodge a complaint.

[He seems grateful for the support.]

We'll have to, won't we?

It'd be nice if we had something to go by, but as it is...

I wouldn't count on it.

[Doop de doop storage room yay. Let's have a look around here - Susan takes some rope out of a box, frowns at it, and sets it aside. Not really the best thing to tie up a splint with, but if she can't find anything better...]

No, I suppose not.

That would be too easy.

[At least he's not complaining about his arm. What he really needs are some heavy-duty painkillers, but he doubts those are just laying around.]

Exactly.

[Yep, probably not. She's actually a bit impressed by how well he's holding up. Normally they'd have drugged him to the gills by now.

There's a plunger in here. Susan pops the rubber end off, and now it's just a short stick. She can wrap one of these towels around the entire thing for padding, so hopefully the ropes won't chafe.]

Let me know if it's too tight. I know it hurts already, but it shouldn't start to go numb.

[Thankfully, his arm isn't going numb. He winces slightly, but that's to be expected.]

It would be nice if I knew what the hell I did.

Maybe you got hit by a car or...fell down some stairs or something.

[She still doesn't think it's the car thing; he'd be hurt worse than that. The arm could have been from trying to catch himself during a fall, she supposes...is that his dominant hand?]

You should probably rest. If I had my way, you'd have a bunch of painkillers in you right now.

Welcome.

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