{ GM ORP } Memory Blank (REUNION P 25)

[WE ARE HALLOWEEN]

Being in the middle of the night, most wouldn't even have seen the brilliant flash of light that rocked the entire Island. However, when all the resident patrons of Deus woke up the next morning, they might have noticed something different.

Actually the issue was not they noticed but what they didn't notice. It was pretty ordinary at first. They were sleeping, for the most part on a bed, or sharing one, or on a couch, or even in some exceptional cases, in a tiny toy house or waterlogged room. They woke up. Some were clothed. Some were naked. Some had clothing lying next to them, standard uniform issue.

All of them could not remember how they had gotten there. All of them had no clue in fact, who they were. And absolutely every single one of them, as they gathered into the dormitories, as many Hunters who were in their private cottages might have stumbled into somewhat-convenient portal to the common rooms in the dormitories on the first floor, where a large pool of confused people were gathering, did not remember a single thing at all.

OOC

WELCOME TO MEMORY BLANK

It seems after a little shocking news a mishap happened and well, accidents happen. The only problem is everyone has lost their memories from start to finish. This is selective memory loss however, meaning they remember how to speak, how the world operates, their motor memory (muscle memory) is working so they may still have their reflexes, their accents remain, but what they don't remember is any memories related to themselves or others.

- Some might be carrying something light, an ID, a pass, some clothing, etc etc. Simply rp them out as you wish, share them with others, @ discoveries, or share the findings of their rooms together as they try to piece together the mystery of who and where exactly they are. They may clothe themselves in however they wish, really, having no memory of how they should dress.

- Once again they have forgotten everything about themselves but still retain the memory of language, and general basic tasks.

- Weapons are silent. In fact its odd, if they even knew what weapons were. It seems weapons don't even exist! Or were they taken away along with the memories?

 

[its me debz]

She had woken up in a white room on white on white. Weird, but you know, whatever. She'd probably slept in weirder places, to be honest, but she wasn't really thinking about it right now. After some copious eye rubbing, she pulled on the clothes that were laid out beside her in a sleepy daze. They were cute, but a little pink for her liking.

...Maybe? Maybe she didn't like pink, but for right now, the pink ruffled scarf was a pretty cute accessory.

Wandering downstairs, she yawned and honestly wondered where she was.

"This place," she mused, tugging at the strands of her red hair, as it was down and unbraided (why would it be, after all?), "is kinda big."  

[its me debz]

He woke up with a jolt, wildly sitting up from where he'd rested on top of the covers, on the edge of the bed. He looked sidelong at the stranger under the blankets and felt his heart slowly drop into his belly.

Oh no. What had he done?

"," he muttered quietly in Russian, scrabbling away. Grabbing a nearby coat and throwing it on, he didn't have the time to notice that it was a bit too long in the arms and a bit baggy-- he rushed out into the strange hallway, dashing towards the end of it. He pushed the glasses he had up his nose-- he wore glasses?-- and burst into the room.

""

 

[lizbot]

(lab building)

She woke up rolling, hitting her hand on the hard floor as she flailed, and then hitting her head as she sat up right into the bottom of a - ? Groaning, she rolled the creeper out from under what appeared to be a classic Chevy Impala. Clumsily, she got to her feet and absently wiped her grease-blackened hands onto her coveralls.

She looked around, but nothing caught her eye or brought up any memory. She didn't even know her own...wait. Glancing down she noted that the patch on her coveralls read Bill in clear, embroidered script. Nodding, she felt this was a perfectly good name, and was vaguely pleased that it was both easy to spell and pronounce.

Bill gave the Impala one last, slightly mournful, look, and then exited the garage into what looked like an office. The desk had a lot of crap on it, most of which seemed the sort of useless, sentimental s**t that was worthless to her right now. The computers demanded a password she didn't know. There was a cellphone that demanded a password she didn't know. On the information front, technology was failing to help her in any way, so the next best source would be people, who hopefully existed outside of this little office.

She approached the door and then hesitated before moving back into the garage area and returning with a crowbar in hand. Just in case. Bill exited and began to carefully make her way down the hall, feet quiet and hands at the ready.  

[mare]

He was sprawled out on a couch, snoring obnoxiously. He rolled onto his side, snuggling into the cushions and reaching for a blanket with a shiver, which for some reason he assumed would be there. It wasn’t, however, and the coolness slipping over his bare limbs roused him from sleep and he sat up, scratching his head confusedly.

“The hell?” he asked no one in particularly, glancing downward and noting that he had been asleep in a strange room, on a strange couch, and was wearing only strangely familiar yellow avian patterned boxers. Oh, well, he thought, at least the he liked the print.

Boxers or no, his brain wasn't quite ready to be awake and he stretched back out, flopping onto his stomach. Footsteps echoed down the stairwell, and he peeked over the arm of the couch at the woman that suddenly appeared. He didn’t have a clue who the woman was, but that wasn’t about to stop him.

“Howdy~” he grinned, giving a friendly wave.

astrabot

draw him like one of your french girls clerise

 

[Nothing Yet]

Something jostling the edge of her bed caused her to stir from her sleep, blinking through the bleariness just in time to catch the fuzzy outline man hurriedly putting on a coat, then leaving her room. Or...wait, this was her room, wasn't it?

Was it his?

She nudged the covers off of herself, yawned, and stepped onto the floor, moving to make the bed behind her. In spite of all the blinking and rubbing at her eyes that she was doing, the blurry vision wasn't going away. A tingling panic surged over her as she rubbed harder. She was going--

Oh, wait. No. There were glasses next to her. She put them on and sighed in relief when her vision improved with their addition, then set to work...well. She wasn't really sure what she was doing. That was concerning. Hm. Frowning, she took a few moments to examine the room: definitely shared with someone who was male, who was apparently quite tidy. With these facts combined with the bed sharing, it seemed obvious that they were together in some way, though the thought felt a little strange. But she wasn't wearing any rings, so it must not have been too serious yet. She plucked up one of the open notebooks near the foot of the bed she'd been sleeping in, thumbed through it, saw a whole lot of gibberish, and closed it with a laugh. That would get her nowhere. The trunk near the foot of the bed seemed promising, but all it really had were more books of nonsense and WAY too much star print clothing.

"This is what I wear," she confirmed with nobody, rubbing the nylon between her fingers. Felt comfortable, at least - and it was, when she finally put it on.

Might as well go looking for the man she'd been sleeping with. She picked up a coat near the door and put it on, its sleeves so short that she had to roll them up, and caught a glimpse of something dark on her wrist. Brows knit, she brought it closer to her face to get a better look. Some sort of scarred tattoo of a circle? Bizarre.

With a little 'huh', she set out to find her probably-boyfriend, finally locating him in a room with several other people.

"Hey!" she called to him, realizing in the next instant that she didn't remember his name. Or...hers...which was much more concerning. "Why'd you leave in such a hurry?"

She reached to take his hand and gave him an encouraging smile, because she sure felt a lot better knowing that she had someone else to figure this out with. Maybe he would too.

astrabot

 

[its me debz]

She whirled around to find the source of the voice-- oh.

Some dude, it seemed, in boxers. Giving him a once over, she deemed him not bad, especially because duck print boxers seemed to be pretty great in terms of decisions to make in underwear.

"Hi," she said, offering him an incline of her head. "I'm-"

...

"A bit lost," she confessed, after a few moments of stammered silence. "Where...might we be exactly?"

Nevermind that she didn't know her own name. Okay, self. Don't panic. Probably a good idea. Don't go apeshit on pretty little skinny boys. It's not polite.

sammpai

 

[its me debz]

He looked around, eyes darting wildly. He pulled the coat tighter around him, and felt remarkably naked despite his current (rumpled) attire. He went through the pockets of the coat for a moment, but came up with naught but a few pens, a necklace, and a few scraps of paper with furious things written on them, as if the paper had been nearly stabbed.

He blinked at the woman as she came up to him, freezing and fidgeting with his hands nervously. "" he replied in Russian, before catching himself. The English in his head was sluggish, and he struggled to find the words.

"I..." He shrugged sheepishly, face pulling into the most awkward, sheepish half-smile half-grimace known to man. "Am not knowing?"

nothing yet

 

[Nothing Yet]

He was terribly nervous, more nervous than she was, even when he saw her. That didn't really bode well for the state of their relationship. Had she done something wrong? She considered just asking him, until he spoke in a language that was as discernible as the nonsense in her books. Maybe they were his books. Thankfully, he corrected himself with words that she could understand.

"Oh," she said, sighing in relief. "Well, I'm glad that it wasn't because of something that I did that I couldn't remember, at least. But you not knowing either means we're on the same page."

She smiled again, patting his hand.

"We'll get this figured out, okay? Don't worry!" She leaned forward to give him an assuring little kiss on the cheek, and really hoped she'd guessed right on this whole probably-boyfriend thing. It just seemed like the right thing to do when in an upsetting situation with someone you were dating, even if she couldn't place why. "After we get this straightened out...er."

Her expression turned from hopeful to embarrassed.

"What...should I call you? Sorry, but I don't even know what to call myself."

astrabot

 

[prolixity]

He woke up gradually, warm and comfortable, curled up with somebody. This wasn't cause for alarm, and felt familiar. As he woke up more and started to roll over, he discovered that he was, in fact, curled up in bed with two somebodies. Huh?

He propped himself up on his elbows, blinking sleep out of his eyes, and confirmed that yes, he had been sleeping between two guys, a blond and a redhead. The bed was wide and luxurious, although when he looked around, the rest of the apartment was fairly spare, the furniture and fittings more like a student apartment than anything more upscale. Weird. He extracted himself slowly and carefully from between the other two guys and slid off the end of the bed.

He was a little unsettled that he had no idea who these guys were or why he had been sleeping between them. In his underwear, at that, and he couldn't tell if either of them were wearing anything. He was a little more unsettled that he couldn't remember his own name, nor where he was or how he had gotten here. There were clothes on the floor and hung over a nearby chair; he checked the pockets of the pants and was rewarded with two wallets. One held a credit card marked with the name Harrison Hughes. The other had a card belonging to Jordan Miller. Was either of those names his? Neither held any familiarity, and though he was pretty sure those names belonged to the people in the room, he couldn't be sure whose was whose.

He put the wallets on the nightstand. There were three phones there, and he picked one up at random, feeling weird about the whole situation. Furtively rifling through people's wallets and phones, even if he was trying to find out something about himself, just felt off. The phone yielded no more useful information than the wallets had, and he put it back down, frowning at the nightstand.

Well, maybe someone around here knew more than he did. He glanced at the other sleeping guys again, and discovered that once he'd gotten out of bed, the redhead had starfished out to take up as much mattress space as possible and draped himself over the blond. There was some kind of familiarity implied by that. He turned away, feeling guiltily like he was peeking in on something he might not be meant to see. He'd just get dressed and go see what he could find out.

Getting dressed, he realized, was its own problem. He had no idea which set of clothes was his. He frowned at the clothes crumpled on the floor and took the ones hung over the chair instead. The jeans seemed to fit all right, and the notch worn into the belt fit snugly around his hips, so either one of the other two was the same size as he was, or these were his jeans. He gave the t-shirt in his hands an uncertain look. It was a delicate pink with a unicorn embossed in rainbow foil on the front. But there was only one shirt on the chair and one on the floor, and he felt like he wouldn't have tossed his on the floor, so ... was this his? When he pulled it on, it fit, anyway, and he shrugged mentally. It would do. The pair of boots he picked at random from the three pairs next to the wardrobe fit comfortably, and his hands seemed to know how to deal with the laces, so he suspected that they belonged to him.

He felt like he should be carrying a wallet and a phone, but he still didn't know which was which. Where was the third wallet, anyway? He checked the bedside drawer - then closed it hastily, blushing. No. No wallet there. He'd just leave it.

He still felt like something was missing, an odd, nagging ache in the back of his head, like there was a hole there. He noticed suddenly that his right thumb was absently rubbing at the side of his index finger, and when he looked at his hand, he could see that there was a slight indent at the base of the finger and a strip of slightly paler skin that told him that he was used to wearing a ring on that finger. Wearing it constantly, if the physical impression it had made was any indication. Where was it, and why was it gone? At that thought, the ache of something missing notched up, and the quiet hole inside his mind seemed to loom large. Someone else should be here, he thought, then frowned. Someone else in his head? Was that normal? It didn't seem normal.

Normal or not, the longer he paid attention to it, the more it hurt, a mental and emotional pain that made him seriously uncomfortable. He needed to think about something else. He needed to get out of here and find out where he was, what was going on, and whether anyone knew who he was. He was somehow reluctant to wake the two men still sleeping in the bed. They looked comfortable, he told himself; it wasn't because he was embarrassed at having woken up with two guys and no idea what was going on.

Three white coats with gold trim hung on hooks beside the door. No, it was four. He blinked at that. He hadn't noticed any signs of someone else in the room, but there were two red and white coats hung on a single hook. Did both belong to one person? It seemed too warm for the fur trim on one of the coats. He started to pick up the other red one, then stopped. The coats showed definite similarities, even though each was distinct and personalized. Were they uniforms? If they were uniforms, maybe he shouldn't take one, since he didn't know which was his, if any of them were at all.

In the end, he slipped quietly out of the room without taking a coat. When he found out who he was and what he was doing here, he could come back for the things he'd left behind. There was a keyring in the pocket of the pants he was wearing, and maybe he could just retrieve his stuff quietly without disturbing anyone.  

[Bittiface]

The large pile of pillows and blankets began to stir inside Room 220. A tuft of blonde hair stuck out from beneath the largets of the covers, slowly turning, groaning as he began to wake up. The young man slowly pushed the overly warm blankets off of himself, blearily looking down at himself. Black plaid pajama pants, and a bright orange hoodie are what met his tired gaze. As sleep slowly gave way to a working mind, the young man started to notice something odd.

He had no idea where we was. He had no idea who he was. Fear slowly creeped into his senses, tensely looking around the room for answers. A drum set, piles of clothing scattering the area. A large gray couch also covered with clothing and pillows. A stupidly large pile of pillows also sat on the floor near his bed.

Did... was this the room of a narcoleptic, or something?

Otto shakily removed himself from the bed he wasn't even sure was his. He was definitely scared now. What happened? What should he do? He hoped with all his heart the door was not locked. Turning the knob and pulling, he breathed a short sigh. He wasn't locked in some crazy person's room.

The young blonde eagerly left the strange bedroom, heading down the hall until he found the commons room. There, he was met with many others. Who were these people? Why were there so many? Why were these walls so white and sterile? Perhaps he was in a hospital of some sorts.

The desire to ask questions was strong, but a terrible shyness took over. He had no idea who any of these people were. He was scared of every single one of them.  

[Miliardo Kason]

The first thing he noticed on waking up was just how bad his neck and back felt. His eyes would flicker open seeing a blurry pile of papers, he was sleeping at a desk, almost like he had passed out while sitting at it.

Very slowly Roland pushed himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he took a good look at the desk in front of him. Why was he sleeping at a desk? Where was this place anyway? Another thought crossed his mind and one that made him freeze where he sat. He didn't even know who he was. A slow panic started to creep into his system as he continued to inspect the desk.

He didn't quiet like the cryptic cult like runes he was seeing scribbled everywhere. Daggers where drawn in all manner of shapes and sizes. Books filled with strange symbols and explanations to what they meant. Always refereed to as Runes and something about FEAR as well. Very slowly he backed his chair up standing up to look around the tiny dorm room.

Where ever it was, it was hardly furnished. A small fridge sat just under the window, strange blue lights glowing from more of those odd rune things on it's side. A bed, a dresser, and the desk he was at now. No one but himself, maybe it was his room? But when did he start wearing such a strange jacket and sleeping at a desk? Slowly he started to pick apart his pockets. Standing by the bed he opened each one tossing out a cell phone, wallet, a few rolls of bandages marked with the crazy stuff on it again. What worried him the most was what he found tucked into his boot. A small, faintly glowing dagger that looked like it was from one of the drawings.

"W-what the hell is going on here."

Even his own voice sounded strange to him. He moved to the phone, picking it up he flicked it open reading the last few messages. One caught his eye. Something from someone named Stormy, apparently if this phone was his, then his name was Roland and he agreed to meet her somewhere for sparing? He snapped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket going for the wallet next. Inside more cards and ID's, some of them said Roland Taft, one was a card key for a cruise ship with a different name. Two votes Roland, one vote for some other guy. But why would he have two different names?

Putting everything back carefully to where he found it, he made sure to take extra care putting the dagger away before moving to the door. Very slowly he pushed it open peeking out into the hall before slipping out his room. Or whatever Room he was in and into the hall.  

[demon_pachabel]

She felt really comfortable. She'd never actually felt so comfortable in sleep before, so it was extremely difficult to open her eyes, even though she knew that sleeping in would....would.....she scrunched her eyebrows together in thought, slowly opening her eyes as she tried to remember what would happen if she slept in. That's when she realized she was sleeping on someone, her head snuggled into the neck of a bare chested man she had her arm around, his arm wrapped around her waist.

She nearly jumped right out of the bed, shrieking in surprise.

The next development in this thought was why was she only wearing a tank top where did her pajamas go??

Cass took a long look around the room, then down at the man who was in her bed. Was it her bed? Was it his bed? Who's bed was she in? Was it either of their beds? She was really uncertain where she was anymore.

Carefully, Cass put both of her hands on the stranger's chest, pausing to stare at the ring on her finger. Her left ring finger. Then she picked up his hand to look at it - he had a matching ring on his ring finger as well.

Cass put his hand down and put her hands back on his chest to shake him gently.

istoleyurvamps

Cass wants to know who this handsome stranger in her bed is :T