azume | Welcome.

Welcome.

AWAKENING.

You're asleep, and the first thing you're aware of is the pulse.

It comes quickly, flooding through your system and jolting you awake; the room you're in is dimly-lit but the bed you're in is soft, and while all of this is jarring you'll soon become rather aware that you aren't going through this alone. The room you're in is lined with beds not unlike the one you're in; you'll be able to hear other people stirring, coming awake as they respond to the pulse too, and...

...And it will soon become evident that whatever just happened, something is wrong.

Whatever your response may be to waking up in a low-lit room full of people is going to be highly amplified, the emotion rubbing your nerves raw in a way that makes you feel like you're experiencing it for the first time, and whenever you manage to sit up, you'll feel something...strange on your head, tickling the sides of your face, and as you turn your head a little you'll catch a glimpse of an odd, synthetic-looking green.

A wig...?

Your clothes, too, are different from whatever you remember last (because whatever you remember last, it wasn't this room, it wasn't this place - ); they feel warm, designed to withstand cold weather, and if you throw the blankets off at any point (or even just pause to look beneath them) you'll be greeted with an outfit made of thick material that's alternating parts black and white and glossy silver, with an emblem inscribed on the chest - a G inscribed in gold and black.

Whatever's happening here, you aren't given much time to dwell on it; everyone here seems about as confused as you are. There are twenty-four of you in the room altogether, and you're all going through the same thing; whatever you're experiencing, the door is closed, so at least you're experiencing it in relative privacy.

For now.

It isn't long before a voice can be heard, soft but agitated-sounding, as though trying very hard to not awaken everyone in the building; it sounds like a man, and you can hear his footfalls pause just outside your door as he speaks to someone else, voice soft and androgynous.

"And you're sure they're gone?"
"Yes, Commander."
"And don't you think something should be done about that...?"
"Right away, sir."

With that, the man and whomever he was speaking to can be heard parting ways, one moving rapidly down a corridor and the other pausing, shifting a bit before eventually moving on himself.

You have several options.

I. You can sit here for a while and get to know each other, seeing as none of you know what happened. That might be a good idea, all things considered, and as long as the door remains closed there's no rush. It's the middle of the night, after all, and it isn't as though anyone is going to come looking - despite the urgent conversation outside, there isn't any alarm going off, nor is there any reason for most of the building to be on high alert.

II. You can explore the building. Should you do that, you'll find several winding corridors leading to what look like dorms, with several rooms containing sleeping people and areas such as formal break rooms; exploring a little further will let you find conference rooms and other large, empty spaces that don't seem to have much of a purpose. There are signs and notices in several places referring to "Team Galactic" and its protocol, all adorned with the same emblem that's on your clothes. Some of these corridors also lead to doors that are, unfortunately, locked and staying that way; some of them lead to people dressed exactly like you, bizarre wig and all. They seem to be a little strange, however; they'll greet you, and they'll speak to you if spoken to, but they look odd and dead behind the eyes and there's not much to their answers, and asking them about preferences or any personal information will just net you a blank stare. It's going to be a long strange journey through the building, but at least you're traveling light; you don't seem to have any belongings with you - save for the outfit you woke up in and the red and white capsule attached to your belt...

III. You can also pause to try to figure out what's going on with those capsules. They each contain something very important to you, after all - a creature that seems to have been assigned to you specifically. They don't seem to have anything on them indicating a name or another person that owns them, at any rate, so it's probably safe to assume it's yours. That said, something seems decidedly wrong with it - it seems alarmingly apathetic, the look in its eyes dull and resigned as opposed to alert and emotive, and while it's willing to follow you (it's almost a bit too willing to follow you, it will stay close by your side in the manner of a dog trained to heel if you try to walk away from it) it doesn't seem to be due to any sort of genuine affection. It's all very...sterile, for lack of a better term.

Welcome to Sinnoh. Glory to Team Galactic.

[OOC: Welcome to Azume! Feel free to use this log to get to know one another iCly; you can use the prompts given or come up with your own, though for now you're confined to the building. The Commanders are currently not present in the building (anywhere that you can find them, anyway). For now, have fun getting your bearings.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I.

[So. Hey. What the fork is going on?

Michael snatches the wig off his head and grimaces down at it in disgust, but otherwise stays tense and quiet until the voices are gone. None of this makes any sense, but freaking out about it is not going to help. No matter how much he feels like freaking out, he's over-reacting.

So: whatever this is, they've all been put in this room by somebody, and so Michael wants very badly to get them out. It's them for now, because even if he doesn't know any of these humans crowding up the place, they're all in the same boat. That probably sort of makes them his problem? No, no, it definitely does. He should at least try.

Kinda a lot of them, though. Maybe he'll pick a few to prioritize, if it comes to that, or at least find some he can trust to help figure this out. He points to somebody at random:]

You. [Wait - panicky humans. Do the thing. Michael smiles.] Hi, what's your name?

II.

[Having already failed to find an exit and explored several conference rooms instead, Michael decides to engage a Team Galactic member!

He seems to have put the wig back on for the encounter, maybe figuring that blending in is a better tactic. But it doesn't make any difference; his attempt to charm some information out of one woman seems to be falling spectacularly flat, and he's becoming visibly irritated. Eventually, noticing someone else who's not some kind of creepy mannequin, he makes a short excuse and stalks over.]

Team Galactic...more like Team Lobotomy. We're better off trying to get one of those doors open ourselves.

Then let's not waste any time. [Fully agreed. Getting out of here is #1 priority] Do you know how to bust down a door?

[Kiryu definitely can bust down a door, but given the strange place, not doing it alone may be good]

By getting other people to do it, usually.

[Which sure as fuck still seems like an option]

Guess that's a no. [Figures. Looks like he'll have to be the muscle here] Come over here.

[To the nearest locked door!]

[He's a lanky sixty-ish-year-old, what do you want from him]

I haven't found anything like a weapon around here either, but I'm willing to try hitting anyone on the other side with a chair.

[He knows sixty-something year old men who can kick people's asses with no problem at all, pal!]

That'll do. Fighting dirty's nothing to be ashamed of.

[Says the man who can grab random objects from around him to bash enemies with, yep!

There's a door. Kiryu squares himself in front of the door]

Be ready.

[Just in case! Kiryu steps back and, with a shout of fury, slams his foot against the door with a lot of strength, so much the door rattles and creaks. Despite that, it doesn't burst open. He gives it another try, undeterred.

Clearly the problem isn't Kiryu's strength because he has that in spades, it must be a hellishly resistant lock]

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