Emergence

[quibblingfunctionary]

WHO: Clive Rosfield herofhopeless, Dion Lesage oblige, Selipnir Harbard quibblingfunctionary
WHEN: Mission 011
WHERE: A WW1 bunker underground
WHAT: Prompt // Amnesia: The Bunker - Sinister
NOTES\WARNINGS: war themes, monster stalking, ghosts, true darkness, insanity, PTSD, uh, likely more tbh, gore

Type: Prompt
Conceptual Basis: Amnesia: the Bunker, Sinister
Notes: (1) Although the main event is based on illusions and psychological effects, the custom scenarios are physically real and actually happening. (2) Open to your ideas on how this resolves at the end of the event in terms of long-term impact. It can all simply fade away or you can retain some aspects.

They all wake in separate cells. There is no light but a dim flickering bulb in the hall connecting their cells, and the walls and floor and ceiling are unrelenting damp concrete.

The three of them are in a bunker evocative of WW1, and they are not alone.

The war rages above. They can hear it sometimes, the ground around them shuddering as shells make impact, a tantalizing reminder that there is life beyond and above the bunker. Inside with them is an ancient stalking horror, one that is repelled by light and drawn to noise. They must scrounge for supplies to light their way -- oil lamps, torches, restoring electrical power to the rundown crumbling bunker -- to navigate safely and find the exit.

But they slowly realize that there is a more dire, invisible threat at hand: ghosts with unresolved trauma. They must seek refuge in the light not just to stay safe but to stay sane. The more time they stay in the dark, the more they start to embody roles from that war: one an officer, one a low-rank technician, one an enemy spy. All suspected of collusion and locked in the brig until command could deal with them. Only... command never came back. There are corpses strewn throughout the narrow halls and rooms of the bunker, maybe corpses they think they recognize.

It all just starts to feel so familiar. The ghosts that seek to possess them are looking for a way to reenact their last days, hoping if they go through it enough times, it'll play out differently. With their increasing presence comes increasing knowledge, the technician of electrical wiring and how to restore power, the spy of the layout of the labyrinthine bunker, the officer of where valuable resources are cached. What did happen to them? What is the story the three of them are so desperate to reenact?

That's up to you.

Map Ref

Comments

[quibblingfunctionary]

[A little tentatively, Sleipnir lightly punches Dion's arm in a similar way to how he had punched Clive earlier. This joking Bahamut is new and he does not wish to ruin it. Sleipnir sense the man could use a little more humor and light in his life.

But after Clive speaks Sleipnir frowns.]

Are you certain you would not wish for me to traverse ahead alone? I could act as a scout... [then he mutters:] what I wouldn't give for those useless little tea candles right now [then louder:] Either way... perhaps we could make a torch? I have matches...

[Sleipnir casts his eyes to Bahamut once more to hear his weigh-in on Stick-Together vs Scout-it-Out.]

[oblige]

[ Dion glances at his arm, as though he expects something to happen in the wake of that gesture. Nothing does, and he doesn't linger on it, turning his attention back to their conversation. The matter at hand — how they proceed — is far more important than his curiosity as to what prompted the touch.

He wouldn't presume closeness, but then, he never truly does. ]

We are each missing a limb, in a manner of speaking. That vulnerability would suggest we rely on numbers.

[ Should one of them venture out and fall, the cost was unpredictable and potentially terrible. ]

A torch may be best, at least until we find more resources. Spare cloth could be used, should we find a base to wrap it around.

[herofhopeless]

I have a rather morbid solution to the question of a base for the torch. It isn't a good long-term one, but it could work.

[Clive thinks of the body back by his cell, bloodied and torn.]

I can go check the body by my cell to see if there is some sort of guard's baton. Short of that, maybe there is a bone that could be salvaged and used. It isn't ideal, the bone would crack from the heat sooner rather than later, but it's an option.

[quibblingfunctionary]

[Sleipnir nods in agreement at Bahamut's limb metaphor and supposes if he too were to fall then the other two would be down four more limbs. A thought creeps to him: does the Etrayan revival work where ever they are? Does it work when all magic is nullified...? He doesn't want to put the question to the proof. He also doesn't wish to spread this new horror to the group.

If only Sleipnir had his usual strength he could break one of the iron bars. He frowns. And when Clive suggests bone he wrinkles his nose briefly. Not a smell he wants to be trapped with- if the dead air is anything to go by.]

Very well. The clothes on the body within my cell are in a puddle, perhaps while Clive checks the body in the hall and the one in his cell we can strip off the fabric from the one in Bahamut's cell.

[As Sleipnir finishes saying that he glances down to his broken pinky... which will make doing anything two handed annoying at best, likely painful, and impossible at worst. Fuck]

[oblige]

[ Dion follows his line of sight. If only he could heal that injury... But had they access to their aether, none of them would be here for more than mere minutes, surely. As it stands, they have their work cut out for them. ]

My hands are fit for the task. [ He opens his mouth to suggest that Sleipnir join Clive, for the dark stretch of hallway is more dangerous, but the bandaged finger gives him pause. Clive may well object, protective as he is. He drags his focus from the injury and back to Sleipnir's face. ] Would you lend Clive the matches?

[ A light source is a light source, so long as the man is quick. If he is not...they will need to hasten to join him. ]

[quibblingfunctionary]

[Sleipnir frowns and sighs, but uses his good hand to pluck the box of matches out and lightly tosses them to Clive in a way which makes them easy to catch.]

Try to use them sparingly, we know not big this place is.

[herofhopeless]

[Clive catches the box and nods.]

I'll be quick.

[Well, as quick as he can be. He hopes there is a baton and he doesn't have to deal with trying to get a bone off of the mangled body. Clive is getting more used to the trek to the corpse and finds it in less time, however, in alignment with what their luck has been like so far, there is no baton.

Clive sighs and feels around. If he can find something without lighting a match, he would much rather save the resource. The longer he is in the dark, the more he feels the hair on the back of his neck start to rise.

Hurry. Hurry, you don't have time. It's dangerous out here.

As if on cue, Clive hears a clang somewhere in the distance. His head snaps up as if he can see anything in the oppressive dark. Another clang. Clive grabs an arm that is already hanging loose, stands to put a booted foot on the shoulder joint, and pulls.

Hurry. Hurry, it'll be here soon. They need you, you need to protect them. Hurry.]