She woke up in such a way that when she turned her head, by the time her vision adjusted to the sunlight from a window she could read a sign on the wall that simply said Smile, it confuses people. The walls were a soft white, though why she thought like that was anyone's guess. Could colors even be soft? Hmm.
She knew sometimes when you woke up, it took your consciousness a little bit to catch up. But even when she yawned herself awake, nothing came to her. No particular memories of the night before, or the day before that, or anything. Blank slate.
Hard white color.
A part of her panicked over an unknown issue she couldn't seem to understand or pick out. It was like there was fog inside her mind, making it vague and unknown just like her identity was. She couldn't shake that odd feeling that something more was missing, something that was once hiding behind the mist--but like everything else, it was eluding her.
She decided to get moving either way. Gingerly she set her bare feet on the ground and shivered, feeling how quickly they grew cold. The room kept an overall soft appearance, with pillows and what looked like a mat tucked to one side, a bookshelf and desk on the other. There were a few paint smears on the wall of pastel blue and pink (redecorating?), and the closet provided only further intrigue: clothes that felt like they belonged to someone else, all flowing and what not with a few looking oversized; several pairs of drab shoes followed by one pair of particularly colorful ones that stood out like a sore thumb (a prized possession? They looked expensive...); several journals, though when she flipped through them they didn't mention the name of who wrote them, but rather other people's names, and a few others which weren't journals at all but dumps of what looked like book excerpts or fanfiction; and most strangely, a backpack that looked a little charred on the outside that read East High College.
Curious, she dug through it and found an ID. James Stevens? Certainly not her name, she felt, but maybe a friend or...or a boyfriend...Oh gosh, she hoped he wasn't worried about her. The charred marks were a bit distressing though...
Holding onto the card, she opened the drawers and sifted through assorted jewelry, cooing over several but stopping when she reached a particular bracelet that had tree charms on it: a dog, a crown, and a bear. How cute! Maybe James had gotten it for her.
It didn't seem like she would be getting many answers here, so it was probably time to get dressed and see if she could find someone. Everything looked a by too frilly and open for her liking, so she grabbed jeans and a simple pink tank top, only stopping when she noticed an article of clothing that stood out among the rest: a coat with swirling symbols and gold and pink trim. Hum. Uniform? What was with the markings? She touched it lightly and contemplated.
It wasn't fun going around nameless. She needed an alias at least. Given how foggy she felt, and the swirling patterns of (presumably) her coat...
"Misty," she decided, and nodded to herself.
Sliding the coat and bracelet on and pocketing the ID, Misty grabbed her keys and locked the door behind her. Luckily she didn't have to venture far, as it seemed a lot of people in similarly confused states were making their way to a central room. Everything was so white here...Sterile even. An experiment? She didn't remember signing up for one...But at least she wasn't alone.
Misty hesitated as she entered, scanning the room for something familiar to pop out at her and being terribly disappointed when she drew nothing but blanks. "Hey, um, is there a James Stevens here?" she asked, looking around. Sure, she'd look like an idiot, but considering she didn't know who "she" was, there was a nice buffer of anonymity keeping her from feeling embarrassed.
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 11:50 am
He had woken up with a small start, a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, a bed next to him completely forgotten. It had been rather innocent at the start, the manchild sitting there and staring at the unfamiliar bed that he may or may not have fallen out of overnight - but then the splinters of uncertainty started to crack his sleepy demeanor, bright eyes starting to take in everything around him, which just made him start stressing even more.
Unravelling himself from the pile of comfort, he started to tip toe around the unfamiliar room, he picked up little things here and there that could be potentially interesting - a journal, a pen (he figured he may as well write stuff down as he went), and paused when he passed a small mirror, eyeing himself. Was he always this . . . scrawny? Giving himself a little snide look in the mirror, he stared himself over, trying to hope that it would explain something - anything - but all he got was this thin, small man, who looked like people had taken him, pinned him down and drawn all over him with sharpies. Sighing out of his nose, he grabbed a rather beat up hoodie tucking it in a way that it hid his sharpie scribbles. Stuffing the small journal and pen in his pocket, he gave a long sigh.
Rubbing his mess of dark hair, he decided that wandering around this room wouldn't get himself very far - especially when he couldn't even get the easiest things straight. Someone had to know what was happening. A small little worry forked through him - maybe he was alone, like some kind of divine retribution for some of the ******** up s**t he probably got in to on a daily basis. Holding on to that thought, he slowly made his way out of his room, in to a even more unfamiliar pathway, and ultimately found himself viewing a rather large group of people who looked just as confused as he was.
"Quelle situation. . . " He murmured in french, eyebrows furrowing when he realized that - although he could barely grasp what these people were saying, any attempts to replicate the statements came with a blank flood of nothingness, which made him clam up even further, kind of trying to hide in his sweater, before hearing a question come from somewhere to his left, a young lady asking about a certain person's name.
Was HE James Stevens?
The answer came back with the foggy nothingness, but deep down, there was the smallest seedling that no, that name did not feel comfortable at all. Clearing his throat, he quietly tried to sidle towards the young miss, giving her a little look. "Puis-je vous aider?" He asked, giving her a blanked look, trying to scratch through the fog in attempts to translate that to the language that she was speaking, but he was left with a blank stare, hoping she would at least have an inkling of what he was saying.
The young woman couldn't be sure what had woken her, but then again, she couldn't be sure about a lot of things when she sat up that morning and yawned herself into a more conscious state. For a moment she simply sat there, staring as she struggled to recall where she was. Nothing came to mind, which meant she was probably s**t out of luck for harder questions like How, and Why. After a few more minutes of unsettling blankness she discovered that even the simplest of questions seemed to be eluding her, such as what her own damn name might be..
The room around her provided little in the way of help. The walls were pale, and there wasn't a lot on them. In fact the entire room was a little sparse, as if the owner(was it her?) hadn't been there long. There was, however, a nine foot tall stuffed alpaca standing in the corner beside the closet. Surely to god there had to be a memorable story attached to him, but the girl was drawing a blank.
Crawling out of bed she tentatively approached a dresser and opened it. Nothing looked familiar. She grabbed the top shirt anyways and pulled it over her head, then hunted until she found a pair of cut off jean shorts in the bottom drawer. Considering how well the clothing fit, she imagined perhaps she was the owner, but there was nothing mentally there that allowed her to connect the dots.
With an increasing sense of unease she made her way towards the door, though paused beside it to eye the white, sleeveless coat that was hung up beside it. Unsurprisingly she had no idea who it belonged to, but she grabbed that too before exiting the room and randomly picking a direction to walk in.
This eventually brought her to what looked like a common room full of other mingling people. For one brief instance the girl thought perhaps there would be someone there that could provide answers, but up closer inspection she noted the general nervousness and discomfort on the majority of the faces. "Well.. s**t." With a sigh she forced bed tosseled curls out of her face, small fingers closing around the bi colored lengths as the unease she'd been feeling began to grow.
Looking to her left she found a young man with an expression that accurately matched how she was currently feeling. Grasping for straws, she side stepped, then looked up at him. "Long shot, but do you know what's going on?"
bittiface
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 12:40 pm
It had worked, more or less, the action of waking her up. Consciousness hit her like a rock when his foot touched her, but sadly she found herself tumbling out of bed before the her senses fully caught up with her. The floor also hit like a rock, or maybe she had hit it like one. She couldn't be sure, but she knew her elbow stung. She was grateful to the body part, the poor thing had taken the brunt of the fall.
She spent half a moment lying there on her back, blinking up at the ceiling, the edge of the bed well within her line of site. What? Had she just fallen out of bed? No, that had felt much more like someone... She sat up, entirely unsure as to what she would find. Her shoulders stiffened involuntarily as her gaze fell on the guy that was still in the bed. What? Who was that? Why was someone she didn't know... Her eyes lowered, giving herself a quick glance. She was in modest enough clothing, sleep pants and and a tank top. He seemed to be similarly dressed, from what she could see. They'd been sleeping in the same bed together. A small bed. Together. He was clearly some kind of a jerk for pushing her out of it, but beyond that... She had no idea about who he was. Or where she was. Or...
Her gaze turned to the room. It was small and sparsely furnished, pale and not overly welcoming. A coat hung on the wall, white as most of the room was. Other than that, a few books littered the floor here and there, and perhaps some form of clothing, but overall... she was having a hard time learning anything from the room itself. Which left...
"That hurt." She scowled at the guy with blue hair. The guy that she'd just been in bed with. Oh, lord. They hadn't... she hadn't... she didn't even know... "Who--" She didn't want to admit she didn't know who he was. That was some kind of weakness she was not comfortable with right at that moment. "--Do you think you are pushing me out of..." she paused for the briefest moment. "Bed?" She'd realized something important. She didn't know if this was his bed... or her bed. She didn't remember her own bed. Surely she had one? She had to have one. Everyone had a bed. Was it this one? Or was this his bed?
What exactly was going on? The girl did her best to keep the panic off of her face. Strange room, strange guy, strange clothes. She sighed. As long as she stayed calm, everything would be cool, right? Of course it would be. It had to be.
[A.V.]
Too stunned to move? Maybe.
Grifferie
Crew
Deus Sherry
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MoonKitsune
Romantic Exhibitionist
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Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 1:48 pm
Melvin tended to wake up first, and the noises from the hallway stirred him to wake up. Groggy, he opened his eyes, shifting and feeling a soft weight on his chest. Reaching up, he went to shove off the weight, assuming it was a heavy blanket or pillow that had toppled over. When he felt warm skin, he jerked, and opened his eyes wide to see the mop of black, glossy curls resting beside him.
There was a girl in his bed.
A smile slowly came, a sort of sudden proud moment that he had succeeded in no doubt getting laid the previous night.
But the smile vanished when he tried to recall last night, and couldn't remember a damn thing. His first thought was alcohol, as he did not know a damn thing about this girl, how they hooked up, or where he even was. It seemed they went back to her place? Probably with the weird stuffed animals on her nightstand.
When he tried to think of before whatever party they must have met, he found that he had no recollection of anything prior. He didn't know anything. If this was a case of severe drunk amnesia, he was new to hearing about it. This was bad. He should get his clothes off the ground and find his way back home before he woke this girl up.
Glancing back to the girl, he wondered if staying a little longer might reap a experience he could remember and talk about, but he decided against it. Mornings usually never worked that way. Moving slowly, he tried to slid away from the woman and arrange her on her bed without her waking, all the while holding his breath.
Saliru
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 1:59 pm
Waking to the sound of others in the hall, she stumbled from her bed, bleary eyed and temporarily disoriented. Finding her way towards the door, she opened it to peer out in order to discover what all the commotion was about. A room full of strangers in a strange place. Normally, this was the perfect time for any one with sense to start questioning what was going on, who they were and what they were doing here; but tiredness got the better of her on that. Stepping out into the hall, she slumped down against the wall, rubbing at her eyes, in hopes to wake herself up.
Not one familiar face, nor any memories to aid her. Judging from the actions of everyone else here, she wasn't the only one as confused.
(( ddfgf idc if this post is crap, I haven't slept hurr hurr ))
LividPeas
Tiny Bunny
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Saliru
Cluttered Hunter
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Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 2:12 pm
Melvin was not stealthy enough and suddenly 'that girl' stirred awake with a sharp sigh of pained confusion. She shifted quickly to sit up, her clothing was apparently sparse as the covers rolled off her. Everything was a hazy blank.
Did she drink? No... not that she remembered. This had to be... her gaze finally landed on a strange man who was apparently in bed with her and attempting to escape it. She quickly pulled the covers back up to conceal herself. "WHO ARE YOU? WHAT THE ******** ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?!"
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 2:15 pm
He slumped his shoulders, not making eye contact with the girl. "Da, same page," he repeated, rubbing his arm self-consciously. For some reason, he just felt so guilty.
He yelped a little as she kissed him on the cheek, pulling away with an expression akin to a gaping fish. "Nyet," he said, waving his hands in front of him. Apparently, this particular dislike carried over as a core facet of who he was-- it just felt...wrong. "Nyet, no touch, cannot-"
Nervously chewing on a nail, he backed away slowly. "Am not sure. Do not care, but-- ah." It appeared that others were filtering in, in equal states of confusion, and that was at the least a small relief. "Hm..." He tried to think of the most common name he could. "Vladimir," he replied with a shrug. "Not name, but is something."
Discreetly, Vladimir tried to wipe the kiss off his cheek.
The young blonde flinched as someone spoke to him, giving the smaller girl a side glance. She was shorter than him, which helped ebb his tense feelings given the height of many others in the room. Why was he so much shorter than so many of these people? Was he a child or something?
"Um.. no.." He answered in a drawled mumble, turning to face her slightly more than he had been. "So it's not just me then?" Everyone here had woken up as a blank slate. He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. Less alone, maybe.
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 2:29 pm
“Er… Dunno! I just woke up here and,” his eyes roved over the room, searching for any detail or clue that might jostle his memory. But the room was sparse, aside from the trickle of people starting to flow in and he failed to recognize any of them, their faces as mysterious as the stranger’s beside him.
“Yeah, dunno. Or my name, come to think of it,” he mused. “Dunno about my clothes either, must have been a good night – say, how’d you find so many?”
He wasn’t worried about being seen in his boxers, after all, it was all he was left with, and there really wasn’t much sense in worrying about it. If people complained or he needed more for protection, he supposed he could always try to wear a cushion.
The house was a little yellow one - the word sunshine came to mind, oddly and briefly - and for reasons unknown, there was a slight spicy scent in the air, something like cinnamon, or perhaps something sharper.
He was in a bed - a small, twin sized bed, in a room with almost no decorations, simple white walls, and little to nothing else in it. It was familiar...
...no, maybe it wasn't. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing, and there was an odd silence within his head that didn't quite make sense. He slipped from the bed, padding down the stairs in a set of grey sweats and a dark green teeshirt that read sniper across the front in thick block letters.
He wasn't sure how, after several moments of aimless wandering, he'd found himself in a room of sorts - a very white room, a room with several other people in it, people he didn't recognize, but people that looked perhaps just as lost as he was.
He said nothing, merely stood off to the side and observed silently.
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 2:44 pm
Warm was good. Warm was nice. He felt warm and didn't want to move. He was on something soft and warm and, well. There was a very loud sound. The sudden feeling of hands on his chest, of sound, had him cracking an eye open. There was a woman on top of him.
A woman he didn't know.
Part of him said 'oh hey I like this'. Another part said 'I am concerned.' A tiny part said 'Boobs'. The boobs part was small and mostly ignored.
She had looked at his hand- oh when did that get on his hand? He didnt quite recall putting it on- then shook him, Marcus stared up at her, half awake. "....Hey."
".........So." His eyes moved over her. ".............................................." She wasn't wearing much, and neither was he. "Do you want to get dressed?" He just assumed that getting dressed would help talking. And thinking. Bed still sounded nicer.
Seemed stealth was not part of his skill set, and her jerked when he watched her stir and hoped beyond hope she wouldn't find out that he didn't know he name. When she looked to him, he just smiled slowly back hoping she would just say a groggy good morning and not figure out he didn't recall anything about her and thus made their night together come off as meaningless.
That's when she screamed, and he jumped up and moved off the bed to hold up his hands. "Whoa. Calm down! I didn't do anything." Well, he didn't do anything since he woke up to now. He couldn't say anything for what happened before.
She didn't remember either. Did she drug him, or did he drug her? Did they both do drugs? Was he some sort of drug addict?!
"I...I'm...." He couldn't remember. "...I'm just some guy you met....I think. I don't know. I think I must have drunk too much last night or something." He glanced at himself and was glad he wore boxers. He continued to hold his hands up to her to show he was unarmed.
Then, because he felt guilty, he just added. "I'm sorry."
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 3:11 pm
Rather then apologize, he only stared at her, a small scowl on his face. "I should be asking YOU that? Why the hell were we sleeping together, I don't even know you." This was a violation of personal space on every level, never mind... the fact he had just kicked her, but still. To have someone THAT CLOSE to him while unconscious... it made him uncomfortable.
He crossed his arms over his chest, noticing the scars on his forearms. Where... had he gotten these? And... a necklace... His hand brushed against the cross around his neck. Why the hell was he wearing such a girly thing?
It was then he finally did take some time to look around the room, noticing the starch white walls and sparse items here and there.. wait. Boots? Those looked... much too feminine to be his, and... aside from the boots on the ground, everything seemed to be relatively tidy. There was a coat hung up in a corner and... he squinted. Was that jewelry on the table? Surely he didn't keep such a strange hobby...
At least, he saw the pillows, and shuddered, finally putting everything together. This... was not his room. At least, that much he knew. Which meant...
His gaze turned back to her, a look of worry now on his face. If this was HER room, and he was in HER bed, did that mean... He suddenly felt self-conscious, and drew his knees towards himself. "We... we didn't DO anything... did we?"
GrnGriff.
This took hours :T
[A.V.]
Dangerous Hunter
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Nothing Yet Crew
Obsessive Stargazer
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Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 3:13 pm
The responses she was getting were not positive, and were definitely not responses she might have expected from someone she was trying to comfort. Maybe things between them were worse than she'd even assumed.
"I...ah. I'm sorry," she mumbled, uncomfortable with her loss for words. "I suppose I will have to learn everything that you 'can' and 'cannot' again, unless we get back the memories we're missing. But I am willing to, because..."
She trailed off, trying to consider what she wanted to say this time. Even with her lack of memories, she still favored the logical options, and she couldn't discount what she seemed to know from her observations. Not for the first attempt, at least.
"Well. I'm not sure why, of course, but it feels like I need you. Specifically." Her head was tilted a little to the side by the time she added on that last word, eyes squinted just a bit, as if she were trying to figure out why by just looking at him. All the staring made it very obvious that he was backing away from her, which sent her level of concern skyrocketing again.
"Please don't go yet, um, Vladimir." Frowning, she tried to recall anything that might have been her name among all of the things that she'd looked through; all that stuck out was the nonsense in the books and one very worn 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'. Close enough. "It's not my name either, I don't think, but you can call me Alice if it helps us feel less like we're strangers to each other."
Even if they were.
Her anxiety was beginning to mirror his, her fingers shakily moving against her arm, until her thumb met the slightly indented skin on her wrist. She paused there and slowly turned her arm over, recalling as she caught a glimpse of the darker skin there that she'd meant to ask about it.
"Oh, right! Do you, by chance, have one of these?" She held out her arm as she asked, extending the circular mark towards him. If he did - if they all did - it might provide some sort of explanation through a connection. Barring that, the coats that most of them were wearing appeared to have some similarities, though outerwear was not quite as striking as a marking on their skin.
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