intro

[pinkprismstaff]

You don't remember getting knocked out.

That's the best descriptor for the feeling you experience before you wake up. There's a glittering absence of color to your field of vision, and a sensation that you aren't yourself, you aren't anything in particular. Abruptly, unpleasantly, you wake up in a strange, sunny location. Where that is might vary--laying in a sun chair on the pool deck, draped over the skee-ball machine in the arcade, face down in a cart in the laundry room....or just stretched out in the long, long expanse of sand surrounding the island.

There doesn't seem to be anyone else here, aside from the others who have woken up and have as little clue where they might be as you do. It's a silent, empty island filled with a lot of questions and few clear answers. What you can conclude are a few things: that you don't get hungry or tired, that any wounds you have don't seem to either heal or worsen, and leaving the island doesn't seem to be possible.

Maybe it would be good to meet with the others who have woken up?

Comments

[howveryglib]

[in fairness he’s got a little more of a Guerilla/cowboy vibe going on than the bulky armor. but he does have a weird riflesword just kinda… stuck to his back. It’s fine.]

I suppose it is the first instance in quite some time that it has happened, though calling those instances “kidnappings” would be something of a stretch.

[themaplesyrupjob]

[It's definitely the sword that makes it Ren Faire.]

Oh, is it one of those things where you wake up in Cambodia and when you're like "what the fuck?" your brother goes "here's the mission brief we have two hours before go time"?

[All of this is said like this is a perfectly normal and not at all insane thing to just say.]

[howveryglib]

…

Not… precisely, no, it had more to do with being… taken prisoner by enemy forces.

[shit maybe it is normal for some people he doesn’t fucking know]

[themaplesyrupjob]

[Breanna nods, like this also makes sense to her.]

That happens to Eliot a lot when we do a Lincoln Log Cabin. Sometimes we rescue him. Other times he's already knocked everybody out by the time we get there.

[howveryglib]

…I… see.

[Not really actually…]

Should I inquire further…?

[themaplesyrupjob]

... Probably better that you don't. Like, I could explain what a Lincoln Log Cabin is, but I don't have a guitar or a prom dress.

[It's actually just occurring to her that the other people here might not also be members of Leverage? Well. At least she hasn't really said anything about what her actual job is yet.]

[howveryglib]

…

So long as it has nothing to do with our unexpected presence here or causes us any undue problems, I imagine it is not particularly relevant.

[themaplesyrupjob]

Yeah, it doesn't really have anything to do with this unless we're kidnapping a government official.

[Which is not impossible but is looking unlikely.]

[howveryglib]

…

And you do this… often.

[can he really judge though. Can he.]

[themaplesyrupjob]

Not, like, super often? Like once or twice a year.

[Which, thinking about it, is probably way too many for a regular person.]

[howveryglib]

…

Should you really be telling this to someone you just met?