As The Curtain Rises... }{ [Contest Plot]

[A Face in the Crowd]

[Before posting, please make sure to sign up your character Here. Please try not to get ahead of the plot posts. You will know when it is time to kick into the major RPing.]

[[May 2nd, 2523. Uncharted Moon, Blue Sun System, Haven Sector.]]

The keepers walked slowly up and down the many rows of sleeping men and women, observing their vital signs, checking to make sure none had passed on. The medically induced sleep had some, rather unpleasant side effects, if not properly monitored, and the man in charge had been crystal clear on what would happen if they died, or woke up early. He was quite a mystery man, they never saw his face, only a shadowy figure on a screen. But he had organized all this, and brought all of these people here. No one really knew what was going to happen, only that they were very important.

They did know one thing: They weren't the only ones. Even though they were assigned to quarters that were adjacent to the medical facility, they had seen the others. And who couldn't hear the noises of building. All day long, for weeks now, there had been the sounds of massive construction efforts. The keepers, had simply kept on at their tasks, and tried their best to ignore the noise.

At precisely 0800, an announcement came across the intercoms throughout the facility.

"1 Hour to contest start. 1 Hour to contest start."

The keepers were ready. Even as the guards arrived, right on schedule, the keepers were in action. They moved to their assigned positions, and then after everyone was prepared, the head keeper flipped a series of switches, and then there was silence. The silence was short lived, because within moments, the patients, began stirring. Some woke up silently, others with screams, or loud yelling. Some simply sat up, and looked around like they had been hit over the head. The head keeper grabbed a microphone, and spoke. His voice was carried throughout the building.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain calm. You have been in medical hibernation. You will probably feel somewhat unsteady, so please refrain from standing for at least 30 seconds. If you are going to be sick, there are waste recepticals next to all of your beds." The keeper continued, reading from a speech card he had been given on the first day. "If you notice, you have a number on your medical gown. There is a footlocker with a matching number below your bed. In it you will find clothing, and a pack. Please retrieve them, and then stand by the locker." He paused, and waited for the order to be carried out. When the commotion had died down, he spoke again. "You will now be escorted by a keeper to the next facility, to change and shower. Please keep a close eye on your possessions, as they can and will not be replaced. Everything you have been given has your assigned number on it, to help avoid confusion. Please follow all instructions quickly, and without any conflict. The guards will not hesitate to get involved."

The keeper replaced the microphone, and stood still, as the people were escorted in an orderly fashion out of this room, and into the next. He felt slightly sorry for them, because it was a crisp day, and the showers were in the next building. But they would be fine. He could see the confusion in the eyes of men and women as they passed, and he felt sorry for them. But a job was a job, and he was doing his. As the last of the patients left the room, he signaled to his keepers, and they too left. The room was left, empty, and silent. For now.

[Feel free to RP up to the point where you leave the first room. More FITC posts will be used to advance the plot once the time comes.]

[Alexis Jennings]

Alexis woke with a jolt, she bolted upright into a sitting position before her vision cleared properly. Everything seemed a bit blurry as she came to; she blinked a few times her eyes slowly adjusting to her surroundings. She could hear muffled sounds of commotion. Some cries, some yelling, a few things clattering and banging. It all seemed very far away somehow like in a dream. “Where am I?” she asked feeling a sense of panic rise in her chest, but her face was devoid of any fear instead she had put on a mask of calm serenity. Her voice felt slightly hoarse, she needed water. Then when no one answered her she glanced around frantically, and tried to spring out of bed. She landed on wobbly legs and had to grab hold of the bed for support.

The space appeared very clinical, a hospital perhaps. She had no idea where she was and the only thing she could remember before waking up here was being hired by someone. The son of a man whose name she couldn’t remember. The son had been lovely, very polite but nervous. She must have been drugged somehow. She scoffed. Her musings however were quickly interrupted by a voice. Alexis listened and then looked down at her chest. On the medical gown was a number 12.

With this new information, her head still foggy, she walked towards the end of the bed. Her legs felt a bit steadier with every step. She crouched down and dragged the footlocker with the matching number from beneath the bed. She glanced around at the guards suspiciously. They certainly outnumbered her, there was nothing she could do but what the voice over the coms had ordered her to do. Alexis didn’t like this one bit. Reluctantly she turned back to her footlocker and touched it a few times, every time she withdrew her hand, hesitant to open it. Finally she unhooked the hinges on both sides and opened it. Inside as informed she found clothing and a pack. As instructed she retrieved them and stood by her locker. For Alexis, she was uncharacteristically quiet at least for the moment.

As the ‘keeper’ approached her she looked at them. “Look, I know you’re probably just here to do your job or whatever but I would really like to know where I am. I promise I won’t try to run away or try to fight you or anything I just, I just I need to know what’s going on. Please,” she pleaded her eyes soft. She felt a sort of desperation in the pit of her stomach, and she hated it. She had to do whatever they said. She felt helpless to do otherwise. At the idea of not getting another pair of whatever had been given to her she tucked the clothes more securely under her arm. Her gaze drifted towards the guards once more. She really didn’t want to know what they meant by ‘get involved.’ Her eyes didn’t leave the guards until she had exited the room escorted in an orderly fashion by her keeper. “May I at least know your name?” she asked politely.

[Valentyn Rooke]

There was no gradual awakening. A tumultuous rising, the young woman's body twitching as she threw her eyes open-- wild and disorientated-- and lifted upwards with a groan. Immediately, even as her head swam, a hand had been reaching down for something. Curling at air as no weapon was found within her grasp, and in her anger and panic tried to get up. The blonde stumbled, fell, and landed on her hands and knees. No avoiding it. She threw up. Violent coughs rattled her, struggling to push herself up. Someone came to help her, and she vehemently turned it aside with something close to a snarl, staggering back to sit on the edge of the bed. A lot of cursing, confusion and dangerous glances came from the very young mercenary. Valentyn didn't remember a gorram thing. All she did know that she had woken up stripped of all her munitions. That wasn't something she agreed with, liked, and neither would tolerate much longer. About to stand up again, the weight of her own heavy limbs pulled her back down. Rooke settled for leaning forwards, head in her hands, muttering language liable to make a Shepard cry. Or her mother.

The announcement was half-listened to, but still taken in. Rooke was torn between the cruel joke of it all, and trying to work a way out of this. What? She just gave another annoyed groan, eyes trailing to the number on her chest. 208. Sure. Okay. That all made sense. They were reduced to numbers and being lead about like test subjects or somesuch. Rooke just gave this bitter little unbelievable laugh, hand across her eyes. Apparently, someone had patched her up, too. Whether it had been in the struggle to subdue her, or just how they found her, Tyn couldn't quite remember. There were plastic stitches over a cut on her eyebrow. A few bandages wrapped around her left bicep.

Without any conflict. Fei fei de piyen. Tyn wanted to hit someone, throw herself at one of the guards and beat him to within an inch of his life. She even daydreamed about it for a spell, too. So much so she got an uncomfortable look from her gaze on the nearest one. Then it shifted. And she got that stony, just a kid response. Yeah, Tyn knew that look. Plus, he was all armoured up, whilst she was wearing no more than some flimsy medical outfit. A huff of boiling frustration. Someone was getting shot as soon as she had the means to do so. That was a promise. Maybe that 'keeper' hun dan. Looked like he could use a black eye or two.

Yeah, she wasn't happy. Gross understatement. But she was also stubbornly silent for the time being. Just 'following ta ma de orders'. Getting more and more riled and thinking of more and more horrible things to do to whoever was behind this, or whoever was close enough to grab and make pay. Things were grabbed, mistrusting and suspicious looks were given to all and sundry. Keeper, guards and fellow damned individuals alike. Tyn marched on out with the others, muttering under her breath.

[Blane Stark]

"Son of a bitch." Blane groaned, as he lay there, waking up without his eyes. He knew things were different, even the sound of the building was off. As the voice came over the intercom, he grudgingly opened his eyes. The building was large, and spacious. Blane made the decision to play along for now. After all, he had no weapons, and no way to resist the armed guards. But he was gauging them, even as he rose from his bed.

As instructed, he retrieved the items. The number on his gear was 019. How quaint. Blane stood, waiting. He noticed a girl nearby asking questions. The keepers, as they were called ignored her. Blane felt a bit of anger flare. "Oy. You wanna tell me whats going on?"

He stepped up to the keeper, and put a hand on his shoulder. Immediately a guard fell on him. He was clubbed by the butt end of the guards rifle. The world reeled. He stumbled back, and tried to clear his spinning head. He followed, as he was lead out of the room. He felt warm blood running into his eye.

He managed to get in line near the girl who had been talking to the guard. Number 12. "Hey," He spoke quietly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You know what this is?"

[Alexis Jennings]

Alexis watched as others began to line up in a somewhat orderly fashion, her insides reeling. She was beginning to feel the nausea the voice over the intercom had spoken of. It was the reason for the waste baskets she assumed. She stopped walking forward for a moment and took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves. She had never felt so trapped. She hated it. Her keeper had stopped beside her. Alexis reached a hand out to touch the keeper, to hold onto something as she felt her world spin for a moment. Her hand froze inches from her keepers arm as she saw through a doorway leading into a room much like the one she had come out of a man being beaten by one of the guards for placing a hand on his keeper. She let out a slow shuttering exhale.

She withdrew her hand as the uneasy feeling in her stomach seemed to settle. The man she had seen getting beaten was walking along beside her now with a number 19 on his chest. She flinched at his touch but looked up at him. “No, I have no idea,” she answered earnestly and shook her head. Her face appeared calm. Her feelings masked but if one looked close enough they would see fear behind her eyes. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding?” she asked in concern. Then surveying his face her eyes narrowed slightly. “Do I know you from somewhere?” she inquired, “You look… familiar somehow,” she couldn’t place where she knew him from but Alexis rarely forgot a face. She continued to shuffle forward with the others, her keeper walking with them. She wondered what they were for exactly, these ‘keepers.’ “What do you think they’re going to do to us?” she asked scanning around subtly as they walked. There were far too many guards. She would have felt much safer if she were armed. Mind you she would have felt entirely better if she wasn’t here at all.

[Friedrich Hoffman]

Freidrich awoke more gently than most. He neither jolted in terror or shock nor was he nauseous in anyway. He was oddly calm about the entire situation, too calm even. As if he were at home in his own bed, the machinist awoke and got out of bed. When informed of his "possessions", he went and retrieved them without thought as if it was perfectly normal and that they indeed were his belongings. Then he made his way toward the next building as instructed as if it were part of his regular routine.

As he moved, slowly, the sense of unquestioning bliss began to recede. He was far from open revolt like number nineteen or even timid questioning like twelve but whatever was keeping him calm and complacent was wearing off.

[Drevin Bendis]

Drevin groaned as he woke up and sat up slowly, feeling as if his head was filled with a hive's worth of angry bees. He looked around him whilst listening absent mindedly to what the man was saying and tried to figure out how the hell he had got there. He remembered faintly a group of muggers trying to rob him and, after killing a number of them, that's all the merc could remember. He groaned again and stretched his back to get rid of some cricks.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and, apparently seeing him do this, five guards approached him with some sort of stunstick in theirhands, causing Drevin to smile wolfishly and say, "You sure that's enough men?" As one of them approached him cautiously, the merc rammed his shoulder into him and propelled the man into one of the other guards. He then grabbed the man's dropped stunstick and rammed it into the thigh of the third guard before throwing it at the fourth.

Before he could continue, however, he was suddenly staring down the barrels of six rifles with six heavily armed men staring at him from the other side. "Well," Drevin said to them as he put his hands up. "I'm glad someone was able to stop me." One of them gestured towards the locker underneath the bed, which the merc pulled out towards him, unlocked and grabbed everything that was inside. He then walked over to the waiting line and tired to gauge the other "participants" of the contest as they stood there. He saw a pair of them talking to each other and decided that he didn't need to get too attached to these people. If this contest was what Drevin suspected it was, he wouldn't know them for long.

[Corran Boid]

More than still, Corran awoke to a calm that he hadn't felt in a very long while. He tried to sit up only to fine himself restrained. Both arms legs and across his neck and stomuch were bound by metal strappings. Boid tried to remember back but much of the last few days were a blur. It was made so because he had found a cloister of reavers and proceeded to hunt them down and remove their existance from the verse. Now he was bound and clam he could feel slight pain in a few areas. The pain was a common feeling that he would have after being wounded or hurt.

His eye he thought they were open but they weren't. Opening them took a great while and much more pain than the fights he had ever had. The seditives they had given him must have been the top elite meds to keep him down to this point. Coming 'round guards rushed to his bed as a keeper jumped as they loocked eyes. With a thud and a bang he knew that these bindings were well done. Also the reaction of one of the guards tazzing him with a stun stick gave him the impression that he had smacked a few of these keepers.

As the keepers and guards surounded him to release binding by binding. Yet Corran did not even move which made them ever more twitchy when he did. Jumping behind the guards the keeper awaited to see what he would do. Corran reached back with his right hand and rubbed his neck. Rolling his head he looked past the guard as two people were coming round. The words spoken had no meaning for him neither did the number on his gown. Sliding off the bed the guard had to turn to deal with another man who had touched one of the keepers.

Just to were still keeping an eye on him these two tho had shot guns. Moving to his foot locker Corran opened it, looking down he shrugged and dropped his medical gown and started to put on his clothes. Others were coming around he ignored their moans and cries. The clothes did fit well enough for any normal activity but Corran was never a normal person. Moving past one of the guard that had stunned him while he layed bound he looked at him and said.

Better hope we never meet again because you and space will be knowing each other very well. Then I'll show you the event horizion of a black hole.

Stepping up next to the man that had gotten the attention of the guards Corran looked him over. This one was a fighter and would be a viable threat if they had to duel it out. Breaking the ice Corran spoke up....

Nice hair.

[Paige Demore]

Priya's eyes fluttered open slowly, a slight but painful pounding in her head. What the hell had happened to her? With the screams and yelling going on outside she kept herself calm, but she wanted blood. Blood for whatever had been done to her, wherever she had been taken and the reasoning mattered little.

There was a voice that came through some speakers, she raised herself to a sitting position. Making sure she felt steady enough, then got her feet as the voice continued.

Priya looked suspiciously around the room, making note that there was indeed a number printed on the hideous gown she was wearing. Where was her own gear, her own clothing? That only fueled her anger

As she stepped out of her room, the realization of the situation sunk in. Without her weapons and being on her own, there was little chance that she could fight her way out of here. Feeling slightly defeated, at least for the moment, Priya accepted that she would have to play along. She didn't have to like it of course, there was a glare for every person who looked as though they worked here. Kept her prisoner. No words would leave her mouth, for now it was more important to observe. Priya listened as some others talked, she watched.

[Blane Stark]

"I'm fine." Blane raised an eyebrow as the woman addressed him. "I doubt you know me." He said, darkly. "I'm not a people person." there was a long silence, as he thought about his new situation.

"Well whatever it is, it isn't official by any sense." He said it confidently, but in his mind he finished the last bit. "At least, nothing the alliance has said is official." There were plenty of rumors, and when you had been around with the likes of Blane, you learned to not write off any rumor until it was proven. He shook off the thought.

"I don't know ma'am." He said, military bearing kicking in as he woke up fully. "We're all in the dark here it seems." His eyes flicked around, searching and scanning everything. "Best to just play along for now." He fell silent, and continued his visual assessment.

Few things addled a man like Blane, but this whole thing had him on edge and worried. For the first time in many years he was truly nervous. He didn't know which option worried him more, whether it was an alliance experiment or not. If it was the alliance, what else were they hiding? And if not, well... a private individual with the power to organize this? That was just as alarming.

[A Face in the Crowd]

[[Message to any new arrivals to the plot: Feel free to jump in whenever. Just pretend to have been there the whole time.]]

The keepers led the men and women to the showers. The head Keeper arrived just in time to provide instruction.

"Men to the right, Women to the left" The Keeper indicated each direction, then spoke into the microphone, as people moved past. "There is a numbered box for each of you inside. Place all your items in the box, and then walk to the showers. Please keep moving quickly. When you exit the shower, your box will be waiting with your items. Please dress promptly, and then move out to the staging area." The Keeper then repeated his message, as people filed past.

*********************************

When they made there way through the showers, the participants were escorted to a large, open field. They were taken through a gate, numbers checked off by armed guards. There were those who gave questioning looks at the presence of weapons. They were all lead to ordered rows, and told to sit down. A large screen was in front of them. As the people filed in, they talked, and wondered. Guards patrolled the outside. The keepers, once they finished their duty of leading the lambs, checked off their own names on a separate list, and retired to their own quarters. Rest, they could finally rest.

[Alexis Jennings]

She gave a half-hearted smile at the man when he said he ‘wasn’t a people person.’ She went silent for a long time. Alexis could still hear a soft ringing in her ears. Her head felt a bit foggy and the lights of the corridor were harsh as they made their way to the next building. She shaded her eyes with her left hand but a commotion directed her attention sideways. Someone had revolted. One of the people wearing a medical gown had launched themselves at one of the guards screaming. He was beaten down to the ground. Specks of blood partially obscured the number on his chest, 284. How many people were there? The man slumped at the guard’s feet; he would not get up again, the people behind her continued to push them forward. That’s when it hit her. Her green-brown eyes tried to peer over the others heads as best she could to survey the crowd surrounding them. There must have been hundreds. How could someone do this? Was it an organization of people? The Alliance? Why? The last question rang in her ears.

She could see no discernible qualities that made any of these people similar to one another. Some appeared to have some sort of fighting experience, or the will to fight anyways, while others stood there muttering to themselves, and others still stood in silence almost appearing calm. Alexis decided right then and there as they were ushered into the next building like a heard of animals that she was done being scared. Whatever came next she would fight her way out if she had to. She stayed silent, nodding at what the man said before they were separated.

Alexis begrudgingly turned to the left unceremoniously stuffed her things into the numbered box and moved onto the showers. The water was cold. It certainly woke Alexis up and cleared her head. The ringing and the headache had worn off by the time she was dressed and walking through the gate the keepers escorted them between. Alexis sat as she was told silently abhorring the tan clothes she had been forced to wear and more so despising the idea of whatever ‘they,’ whoever ‘they’ were, had planned for her.

[Friedrich Hoffman]

Friedrich did as ordered and followed the crowd. When the water of the shower touched his body, the drug induced cooperative mindset was shocked out of his system. He was suddenly very aware of the situation, angered by his abduction, and concerned as to what was in store for them all. Rather than walk mindlessly, Friedrich continued to follow the instructions but plotted and watched for any potential openings. He scanned the others in the crowd for potential allies, threats, and even familiar faces despite how unlikely that would be. He attempted to analyze anything and everything for the slightest advantage possible.

In such a state, Friedrich waited for the instructions which he assumed would follow shortly. Maybe soon they'd get to the heart of the matter. There wasn't much else to do in preparation now that they were awake, showered, dressed, and assembled.

[Drevin Bendis]

Drevin turned at the voice, and replied, "Same to you, stranger." He gestured down the line as it dwindled down. "Any idea who any of them are?" The merc wanted to know whether or not the people had any significance and also any potential reason as to why he might be here. He also started to try and get the measure of the man's character, trying to work out who he might be or what he might be. From the way the man was standing, Drevin could only be certain that he was combat trained, but everything else was a mystery.

"Name's Drevin, by the way." Before he could hear a reply, though, the same man from before came back onto the mic and started barking instructions. Reluctantly, Drevin followed the instructions then eventually found himself in a room with a large screen. In the clothes given to him, the merc blended in easily with the rest of the crowd, something which pleased him to no end. "Well," he mumbled to himself, "now we might find something out."

[Blane Stark]

Blane didn't much like the way things were going. He was definitely concerned about entering the shower complex, but it proved to be nothing more than that. As he dressed, he noted again how organized the whole thing was. Who the hell put this together? Who has the time, or the money.

Of course the real question driving at him was the obvious "where are we" he couldn't see any sign of civilization, and there weren't any landmarks or tell tale signs. For all he knew, they weren't even on the map. Course, this could all be inside their heads as well. But that was at best, unlikely.

Making his way out with the rest, he felt exposed. Without his weapons, or his gear. Blane took solace in the fact that at least he blended in. Aside from the number, he was just another brown clothed person. But if this whole thing was run by someone who was able to snatch whoever they pleased, then being in the same clothing wasn't worth much.

"Well, this will be interesting." He mused, softly as they waited beneath the screen. Sometimes it was better to not know, but ignorance is only bliss for so long. Blane wanted to know what the hell was going on. He continued to scan the crowd as he waited.