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crossing_lostrpWho: Dr. James Wilson (aka Dr. Mengele)
When: Day 28, Morning, during "Search & Rescue"
Where: The holding cells
Invited: Other prisoner NPCs, the Search & Rescue Crew
Status: Complete
John Doe stood as close as he could to the invisible barrier without brushing against and getting another painful jolt. By doing so, and peering down the corridor he could just see a door. An actual, physical door with a small window. The window revealed greenery and daylight. Calling for help seemed pointless--no one had responded yet--but he couldn't resist.
His cries for help only brought bitter laughter and a few jeers from the other prisoners. He wondered what they looked like. He couldn't see any of them. He wondered if he knew any of them when he was in his right mind. Not that they could tell him. They had no memories either. He'd learned that much at least.
His fellow prisoners were an unpleasant lot. Angry, hostile, and self-important. The first two he could understand, given the situation. The self-importance made him want to put them in their place. The images that accompanied that urge suggested that he was a doctor; at the very least he knew a great deal about human anatomy and how to manipulate it.
Doe cursed and turned away from the invisible barrier. Discovering that had been a terrible shock, literally and figuratively. He'd awakened with no identity and no memory. In a panic, he'd tried to rush out of his alcove--and crashed into the barrier. The sizzling electrical shock had left him semi-conscious and moaning on the concrete floor of his cell. And it was a cell, that much was clear.
That knowledge had left him shaken. He had no idea why he was in here, no idea who had put him here, but that inexplicable terror told him that he wasn't unfamiliar with whoever had done it and he feared them. He'd tried calling for a guard but only succeeded in awakening a number of other prisoners. The hollow electric zaps and the shrieks and curses were enough to tell him they were fellow prisoners--and equally unaware of their situation. Was that part of their punishment? Deny them their memories as well as their freedoms? Something in him thought it entirely possible. It was cruel but entirely plausible, he felt.
The cell contained a bunk, a utilitarian sink and toilet and a steel mirror bolted to the wall above the sink. The face in the mirror was unshaven--and unfamiliar. His clothes weren't filthy or threadbare but they weren't clean either. So he hadn't been here long or his captors let him bathe and change clothes at least occasionally. They fed him too, though not recently to judge by the growling of his stomach.
And where were his captors? No guards had appeared since all the prisoners awoke and began shouting and arguing. Doe had noticed security cameras on the opposite wall of the corridor outside. Tiny red lights glowed on each, so he assumed they were in use--but shouting and waving at them had also failed to bring a guard.
Doe sat down on his bunk and settled in to wait. There was nothing else to do.
When: Day 28, Morning, during "Search & Rescue"
Where: The holding cells
Invited: Other prisoner NPCs, the Search & Rescue Crew
Status: Complete
John Doe stood as close as he could to the invisible barrier without brushing against and getting another painful jolt. By doing so, and peering down the corridor he could just see a door. An actual, physical door with a small window. The window revealed greenery and daylight. Calling for help seemed pointless--no one had responded yet--but he couldn't resist.
His cries for help only brought bitter laughter and a few jeers from the other prisoners. He wondered what they looked like. He couldn't see any of them. He wondered if he knew any of them when he was in his right mind. Not that they could tell him. They had no memories either. He'd learned that much at least.
His fellow prisoners were an unpleasant lot. Angry, hostile, and self-important. The first two he could understand, given the situation. The self-importance made him want to put them in their place. The images that accompanied that urge suggested that he was a doctor; at the very least he knew a great deal about human anatomy and how to manipulate it.
Doe cursed and turned away from the invisible barrier. Discovering that had been a terrible shock, literally and figuratively. He'd awakened with no identity and no memory. In a panic, he'd tried to rush out of his alcove--and crashed into the barrier. The sizzling electrical shock had left him semi-conscious and moaning on the concrete floor of his cell. And it was a cell, that much was clear.
That knowledge had left him shaken. He had no idea why he was in here, no idea who had put him here, but that inexplicable terror told him that he wasn't unfamiliar with whoever had done it and he feared them. He'd tried calling for a guard but only succeeded in awakening a number of other prisoners. The hollow electric zaps and the shrieks and curses were enough to tell him they were fellow prisoners--and equally unaware of their situation. Was that part of their punishment? Deny them their memories as well as their freedoms? Something in him thought it entirely possible. It was cruel but entirely plausible, he felt.
The cell contained a bunk, a utilitarian sink and toilet and a steel mirror bolted to the wall above the sink. The face in the mirror was unshaven--and unfamiliar. His clothes weren't filthy or threadbare but they weren't clean either. So he hadn't been here long or his captors let him bathe and change clothes at least occasionally. They fed him too, though not recently to judge by the growling of his stomach.
And where were his captors? No guards had appeared since all the prisoners awoke and began shouting and arguing. Doe had noticed security cameras on the opposite wall of the corridor outside. Tiny red lights glowed on each, so he assumed they were in use--but shouting and waving at them had also failed to bring a guard.
Doe sat down on his bunk and settled in to wait. There was nothing else to do.
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