idolpro | Hostages

-Hostages are each being menaced by three things.
-They need to communicate with the rest of their unit, who will ask them one question per ten minute round.
-Hostages can communicate back with their unit by sending one dream image back, out of their deck of dream images.
- Each round one card gets added to their deck.
-The only exception to this is if their unit sends them a question with "YES OR NO QUESTION" clearly marked in the header, which hostages may answer with yes or no.
- Hostages can hear their unitmates talking, though they can't talk back, so they can use chatter in the room to inform which dream image they send.
-Each threat that is guessed correctly does not happen to them.

[ Pinned down, you struggle. Your off-hand isn't strong enough to make up for what it lacks in technique, so you claw at the dirt and will the poisoned roots to bend to your demands but they don't leave the earth to defend you. They stay where they are and agitated, bloom flowers above you, but the spores are iron tainted and your struggle weakens under their influence. All you can do is scream, and bite and claw but it's no use against armor, it's no use under their pitiless eyes that you don't have the strength or reach to claw out, concave-starved chest flat against the damp ground.

You thought, once: so long as you stayed in the forest, you were safe, no matter what the outside world did and no matter what demands they made. That was before they drove cold iron in the ground, the roots of the trees infected with poison and so every bite you ate burned your tongue and made you weak, and slowly you and the rest of them had stopped eating at all-- you recognized this for what it was. A siege. They would starve you out, until you agreed to meet their demands.

Hunger has been your companion for months now, the boughs of the trees that once sheltered you and tended to you now were poison and walls, a barricade that kept them out but kept you in, the sun out of reach and your nourishment dwindled. So, you had taken up arms. Your teal blood and their iron-red blood poisoned the forest, but it was already poisoned, and how much worse could it get, really? You would waste slowly or you would die quickly, you thought were the two options, and you knew which you'd prefer.

But now, restrained, you see they didn't bring just soldiers. The distinct white coats mark the people who come now as experimenters: you don't think they'd heal you out of the goodness of their hearts. They did this to you and your forest and your people for a reason, and if you're not lucky enough to have starvation take you or to bleed out before the doctors see to you, you're going to find out what that reason was. ]

Edited 2020-03-06 18:51 (UTC)

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

[ The drip-drip of your own blood and your own frosty breath are your only companions through the winter. At daylight people might walk below, praise you and shout and sing, but they don't lower you down from your pillowed cage, and they don't come up. And on these nights, they might watch you from their windows, looking towards the town square and taking comfort in the knowledge that their savior is still amongst them, for all the good it does you and your blue-tinged lips, you and your frozen fingers, you and your ever dripping wound.

They don't know what else to do but praise you— you were shot through with an arrow in the heart, and you didn't die. It was a miracle, until they noticed the bleeding continued without abating, as you still did not die, week after week. They became terrified, and mania swept the town. Your blood was miraculous, and they couldn't risk you leaving and bringing your blood with you elsewhere: you were their hero, their savior. Their object to string up in a pretty bird cage, gilded and pillowed and perfect, and still too short to stand.

People watched you all the time, a miracle and a monster, something wonderful to behold. If they were sick, they'd ask to partake in your miracle, and if you felt like being generous, you could smear your hand over your heart, and gather blood to drop on the asker below. If you didn't, they acted like your presence was talismen enough, and showered you with praise and left, like you can't. So, here you are, winter solstice, still living, still breathing, visible from all the windows as snow falls in your hair and you are so very cold. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

Edited 2020-03-07 02:05 (UTC)

[ How bad did you want in the proverbial old boys club? Was it bad enough to wander blindfolded through the night, a rope round your neck that threatens to strangle you if you don't keep pace or move in the wrong direction, your hands bound behind your back so you can't feel your way through the dark? Apparently, because here you are, shuffling and stuttering your steps each time your breath chokes off, and it's only the fact that the rest of the guys suck at being quiet that keeps you able to breathe as well as you, their poorly stifled laughter your guide in the dark. But behind their laughter, you hear more things moving, and suspicious hissing noises and you hope to high heavens that it's just them hissing at each other, trying to get a rise out of you.

You've been led in circles three times, you think, before they turn and sit you down, and you nearly faceplant into a table. They do roar with laughter at that, and you're told you've moved on to the second half of the test. They leave the rope hanging there, and you're supposed to blindly eat the three bowls they've set out for you. The first has a strong unpleasant scent that you don't recognize, and a slimy texture that makes you gag, but you swallow it down. First one down, two more to go. The second is rubbery, and the taste unfamiliar too and much better than the last. You swallow it, and start on the third (peeled grapes, probably, they must have given you them the wrong order) before you realize you can't swallow-- you hadn't noticed the difficulty breathing after a night of difficulty breathing, but you feel your face, your everything tingling and you hear someone realize that something is wrong as you collapse sideways out of the chair.

They're panicking, arguing, that no one had asked if you had any allergies before the trial, and they decide to get the hell out, better than being caught with there with your corpse— they run and you do your wheezing best to work off your blindfold with your face against the carpet, and you hear a crash— you get it off just in time to see that it's a terrarium the others knocked over, and those snakes slithering across the floor abruptly answers the question as to what had been making the hissing noises earlier. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

[ Every mirror in your house is shattered, the broken glass crunching beneath the shoes you insist on wearing inside-- tradition be damned. The hard wood floors can take it, and after all the trouble the damned dark woods gave you, they deserve the wear and tear. You sacrificed so much to build a future in gloss and lacquer and nails, in electric lights bright enough to shine into all the dark crevices the horrors hid in, and keep your people safe. You had tried diplomacy at first, with the people there, but they said what you asked was impossible-- you couldn't rid the forest of all the wolves.

So you got rid of the forest.

People talked, and said you'd be cursed for it, but they didn't fight progress. Straw-thatched roof houses were cleared away, for heavy brick foundations in the western style, and your city hasn't been wolf hunting grounds for years now. They like the comfortable warmth, they like not hearing howls, and they forgot about the curse the people in the forest promised. You weren't fortunate enough to be in a position to forget about it, as you hid the handkerchiefs you coughed into, the red stains that you couldn't let anyone know about, because you knew for a fact they'd talk about the curse coming true if they knew your lungs had betrayed you. If they knew about the cold wet cough that had moved in, the threat coming now from within, rather than without.

If they knew about the things that moved in the mirrors, the dark yellow eyes that should be gone, gone! So you bloodied your knuckles and broke every mirror in the house. But it did no good. You hear breathing in your house's dark halls, and your broken-down body with its broken down lungs won't let you run anymore:

Not in this house made with wood from the Black Forest, all the beams and pillars like boughs and thick trunks. No one needs to huff, and puff, and blow your house in. The wolves are already inside: you hear behind you, as you can't turn around and look back-- the click of their claws on the wood, more of the clinking and shattering of glass as they stalk you leisurely: just waiting for the right time to pounce. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

[ Sugar is cheap, candy bars run you next to nothing, box cake mix even less once you factor calories per cent. You owe your awful sweet tooth and cravities to being poor, just as much as you owe it your life of thievery, just as much as you owe your broken legs from the psychos who apparently just didn't have much appreciation from being stolen from.

But you stole cash, you got in and left. You didn't break in and chain them up and break their legs so they couldn't leave and siphon cash from their veins, and okay, the metaphor breaks down there, but what kind of sick fucks did anything with blood, anyway? Sure, hospitals had blood drives, but if you're after blood for saving people, didn't chaining up a bunch of people in your basement get in the way of your good will towards man bullshit?

And so you can't figure it out, none of this nonsense, and they don't give you answers when you shout and scream, and goddamn if your teeth don't hurt. Not that they're giving you soda here, but you feel the ache you don't understand, and it'd be just your rotten luck for your rotten teeth to fall out here. It aches as bad as your empty veins, as your broken limbs, and for as hungry as you are, it hurts so bad even the thought of cake only makes you nauseous when you should be hoping all the sugar in your blood gives these fuckers diabetes as they sink their teeth into you.

In your mouth, almost in answering, you feel something come loose. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

Edited 2020-03-06 19:01 (UTC)

[ You are a scientist, and you don't drink. So it's absurd that when you were pulled over for drunk driving, that the breath-alyzer registered alcohol on your breath. You've been lethargic lately, depressed even, but you hadn't given into that sadness and attempted to drown your sorrows in the bottle, but the cop won't listen to you swearing up and down, and he gives you a ticket and this is all frankly absurd and irregular. You take it, and he's going to take you back to the station because he can't have you driving in this condition and honestly you have had enough of this nonsense so you slam the door and slam on the gas.

You don't get far, though, because you've floored it forward when there's a severe bend in the road, and you and your car go straight through the guard-rail, the impact throwing you through the wind-sheild, through the black-berries growing wild at the side of the road, and your car roars on without you. You tumble, thorns pricking you on all sides but you protect your head and eyes as you roll, pain shredding through you as thorns pierce your clothes. The cop doesn't seem to notice that you've been thrown from the vehicle, though, because he's gone off-road and is roaring after it as you sit there, dumb and somehow alive, injuries bad but not so bad you can't stand.

There's more sirens in the distance, and you stand, not thinking clearly. You need to find help. You pick your way through the demolished brush and back to the road, to the nearest house, leaving a red dripping trail up the white-painted porch. You ring the door, and no one answers. You ring again, and again, and pound it, and then try the knob-- it opens. You step inside, and a scream rises from a side-room. You only belatedly realize that a blood-covered stranger has just barged into their house, and of course they don't take well to that. But you can't explain that, not with their headphones in that means they missed the doorbell, as they toss the heaviest book from the bookshelf besides them straight at your head— their aim is good. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

Edited 2020-03-07 01:49 (UTC)

[ A beast doesn't belong in the city, even if you stand up on two legs and walk and talk like the rest of them, eventually they notice. Enough weirdness, and they figure out you're a beast, they assume you're one of those beasts, red of tooth and claw, here to tear them apart from the inside. So, you were set to be beheaded, and you weren't really surprised except for how archaic it was-- no lethal injection, no electric chair? But apparently it was hard to formulate that stuff for beasts, so they took you to the gallows like it was revolutionary france and you kneeled for the man with an axe and he raised it up and brought it down wrong, the axe head flying off but not before it nicked your neck something awful.

But bleeding as you were, you weren't expecting the next thing to come to be careful inspection of you, careful inspection of the equipment, and then you get your neck bandaged up. Blood loss is still a problem, but they've left your fate for God to decide. You were saved in an act of God, and so the archaic punishment comes to an archaic end-- you're pardoned. Elated and a little giddy from blood loss, they let you go and you get in your car, giddy.

You drive, and you drive fast, as fast as you can to get out of there. Carelessly fast, and there's the railing and you slam straight through it and glass comes around down around you like rain through the windsheild, and beneath you there's water--

You don't know if God will save you a second time around. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

[ You've faced all sorts of things, all sorts of people in the arena— you're a glorified executioner, and you send everything they send to you to their end. Those who couldn't afford a real day in court or out of fines, those whose acts were too heinous to think they'd have a real chance in anything but trial by combat, the cocky and the fools, all ended by your blades. You have a flair for the stylish, and people come to watch. Trial by combat's gotten more esoteric these days, and they've had a real ball of it: outfitting your opponents with all sorts of weapons, designing all sorts of killing fields for you to water with the accused's blood.

But today, the obstacles where you're meant to dazzle the crowds and bring justice down with edges are all wrong: children's toys shouldn't be here, and you can't find your opponent. There's something amongst them, strings that move and confuse and their glassy eyes follow you as you stalk around the arena, and in paranoia you lash out and strike one, and that when you know. Your can't find your opponent, because every single one of these things is your enemy, the clockwork soldiers drawing their swords. You've been good long and good enough, and now they want to put you down. Against any person you'd win, but these things keep coming, no matter how many you slice to bits, their tin carapaces slicing into you as you slice at them, before they get up again, putting themselves back together like a child's knocked down block tower built back up again. Not only are they killing you, they're making a point of it, what child's play it is.

You look about, wildly, and are running now rather than fighting, but the whole place is surrounded with barbed wire— running will slice you up too. No matter which way you go, you'll spill your blood, like the blood of how many other's you've spilled before. ]

Edited 2020-03-06 19:06 (UTC)

Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3:A new card
Round 4:A new Card
Round 5:A new Card
Round 6:A new Card
Round 7:A new Card
Round 8:A new Card
Round 9:A new Card
Round 10:A new Card
Round 11:A new Card
Round 12:A new Card

Edited 2020-03-06 19:07 (UTC)

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[ The house stands at the end of the block, B-movie picture-perfect haunted house. It's scary, just standing there, but you're a hero, after all! You go to scary places, and help out. There's a poltergeist inside, and you're the hero here, to go find the kids who went inside on a dare. You'll keep them safe, as you step past the threshold, and are grateful for your mask that hides your fear-dilated pupils, your uninspiring grimace.

Inside, you hear laughter, that must be the kids. Step over step, up the stairs, you run, and the carpet slips out from under you and you jump and grab the railing, vaulting to the second floor. You follow the sound, and put your hand on the handle and it burns you through your suit as you recoil, rubber singed. You shout surprise, and do your best to turn it into a heroic sound, and kick the door in. But inside, it's not a child laughing. There's smoke and a fire, and the laughter is auditory malice. A thing, dark and formless, and it throws you back into the wall, and pins you with a mouldering mattress. It presses you down, heavy, and smoke gets into your lungs and you cough, the flames licking up it but you're strong and brave and true and you won't let this much stop you! Despite the weight, you kick it off, and go to run from the room—

And it's already learned that no mere mattress can keep you down!

So next, it's the roof that goes crashing down on you, knocking you all the way down to the first floor, as your vision goes starry and your can't see, can barely breathe— and you feel a blast of heat, the poltergeist's flames diving down for you, and if you're not crushed first, you're going to burn. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

[ A jovial hand slaps you on the hand and you do your best to keep your smile solid and your feet grounded. You're the court magician, invincible — the accident with the acid that ate straight through your chest and yet you're here at a party, and people laugh and congratulate you and slap you on the back and you can laugh and smile with the champs. You're important, and you won't let them down. Come fever (you wouldn't have spilled it otherwise, serves you right for working while you're sick, you can almost hear your mom scolding you like you're back in the apothecary at home) come acid eating through your chest, come terrible timing for parties.

Even if it means you're at this ridiculous dinner party with a score of noble families all trying to cozy up to each other and you, hoping you'll bottle them some immortality or happy memories, while you're hoping no one notices the corset you've got on is all that's keeping your top half attached to your bottom. You got eaten clean through, and you might figure out a way to heal it but not quite yet, not with the timing of this. They have to think you've healed up proper: really no one likes liches. So you've got to be very careful that no one notices your fashion statement, out of character as it is. Even as it squeezes you in, and talking is hard, it confined your lungs and you can't talk too much. So instead you nod along to the conversation, and the pretty girl you're talking to laughs and only belatedly do you realize you've agreed to something, you don't quite know what yet. She's stronger than she looks, and she tugs at your hand hard, trying to take you away to a private balcony, but you back-pedal and lose your balance, legs going one way and she's still holding on to your hand, very, very tightly.

Tight enough that you can feel the tug, and you realize, no, you can't keep it all together— a smile might not be enough to talk yourself out of this one, especially not if you can't keep her from screaming. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

[ In the haze of a victory celebration, you and the rest of the guard had glass and tankard one after another, letting the evening go golden and warm as it faded to night. You had won, and were invincible-- of course you hadn't drunk too much, that's ridiculous! You have the divine protection of the king, and everyone that might hurt you, you'd already slain. So you're going home to sleep it off, thinking nothing of your blacking vision and your unsteady steps, singing loudly and sleepy, all in good cheer, sloshing about with the others.

Until your voice had been the only loud thing in the night, and you were the only unsteady one in the line. You trip, unsupported, and roll over weakly. Something's at your ankle. You tug it, and it doesn't give. It doesn't tug. You blink, bleary, because at the end of your trousers there isn't a boot, there's a plant. Brown and barky, and how drunk are you, exactly? You try and slur out for the others to help you up, but you realize the others are all there too. Stony, statues of the others, vines curling up around their forms.

Behind you there's a hissing sound at your ear, and you turn your head and see. The snakes all attached to her scalp, and you realize: grand hero that you are, you missed one. You reach for your sword, and try to stand, to lunge, and kill the last of the monsters— you didn't celebrate too much, you just celebrated too soon, as the woman opens her eyes and you—

.................... ]

Edited 2020-03-06 19:11 (UTC)

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

[ Everyone's got a story about why they came to the moon: they came chasing a girlfriend that came up to be an actress on the low-grav sets, they came in the jewel miner rush that happened once industry blew away the dust that covered its true bone-and-crystal surface, and everyone knew what for sure what jewels glinted in the deep. They're good stories, each and every one you hear. You though, your story is one word:

Lunatic.

You woke up with a ticket in your hand, the stewardess letting everyone know the rocket was clear of earth's gravity, and you were free to roam about the cabin. You didn't know your name, you didn't remember your family, but you knew where you were going and knew that if the rocket were to turn around and shuttle you back down to the gritty earth below, you'd jettison yourself out so you could die as close to moon gem-rock as you could.

Your passport said some country, your paperwork said you had some work history, so you got a job as a barista at day, bartender by night, no problem. Your tourist visa didn't give you the right to stay forever, so you're going to stay up every last second you can, taking in all the people and stories. You started your day with coffee, and you ended your day a couple days later, when your exhaustion finally won out no matter how much caffeine you drank. You're getting at the end of your rope tonight, bartending at a party, a belligerent man across from you demanding another drink though you cut him off. You mean to call a bouncer but he shoves you, hard, and you're clumsy from exhaustion. The railing catches you hard at the waist, and off and over the railing you go— the surface below so beautiful you don't try to catch the ledge, only open your arms wide, as if diving into a lover's embrace. ]

First Round (7 cards): Card 1
Card 2
Card 3
Card 4
Card 5
Card 6
Card 7

Round 2: A new card
Round 3: A new card
Round 4: A new card
Round 5: A new card
Round 6: A new card
Round 7: A new card
Round 8: A new card
Round 9: A new card
Round 10: A new card
Round 11: A new card
Round 12: A new card

Hostages

RULES FOR HOSTAGES

LiliS:

Threats: Starvation, injected with a mad science serum, having an arm chopped off

CARDS:

sensitIV

Threats: Freezing, prolonged confinement in a cage, an arrow wound

Card Deck:

pep!pep!

Threats: Allergic reaction to shellfish, Suffocation: rope, snakes

Card Deck:

Taisho Roman Revolution

Threats: Wolf, Shattered mirror, consumption/TB

Card Deck:

BAD END=DEAD END

Threats: Exsanguinated by vampires, complex fracture, Toothache

Card Deck:

future is now

Threats: Heavy book to the head, Dragged through thorns, Auto-brewery syndrome

Card Deck:

WILD CITY

Threats: Drowning, botched beheading, Car

Card Deck:

☆ZRAEL

Threats: Gladiatorial combat, barbed wire, murderous toys

Card Deck:

Heart Soldier Senshi

Threats: Poltergeist, being crushed, fire

Card Deck:

AlcheME!

Threats: fever, acid, corset

Card Deck:

avante en garde

Threats: Alcohol poisoning, Plants taking root, slowly turning to stone

Card Deck:

BARiTONES

Threats: Too much caffeine, Falling from a great height, Moonlight caused insanity

Card Deck: