sensitIV
[ Everything fades to black...and you awaken in a run-down one-room shack
You're wearing raggedy/a regular/fancy versions of your uniform/servant uniforms, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME%, in the year %CONTEMPORARY%+1. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing the results of a recent attempt at revolt in a city in %COUNTRYNAME%: worker’s success at managing a nearby gold mine led to dreams of every man being a king - the revolutionaries may have been successful had it not been for a concurrent jailbreak and mass slaughter putting local authorities on alert, buying time for military intervention - the town was nearly levelled to the ground, with few survivors.
...Also, below the main headline about the failed revolution, there's something about Those Who Crave Hands? Huh. Don't you remember something about that, actually?
Anyways, you've got marketing to do! ]
You're wearing raggedy/a regular/fancy versions of your uniform/servant uniforms, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME%, in the year %CONTEMPORARY%+1. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing the results of a recent attempt at revolt in a city in %COUNTRYNAME%: worker’s success at managing a nearby gold mine led to dreams of every man being a king - the revolutionaries may have been successful had it not been for a concurrent jailbreak and mass slaughter putting local authorities on alert, buying time for military intervention - the town was nearly levelled to the ground, with few survivors.
...Also, below the main headline about the failed revolution, there's something about Those Who Crave Hands? Huh. Don't you remember something about that, actually?
Anyways, you've got marketing to do! ]

Dante
no subject
straight into the trash bin.
And some sort of grey orb falls in behind you. More trash? Ah, but it’s ticking. Tick...tick...tick. You smell sulfur rise up into the air, and...ah...maybe you should get out? But even if you know what that means, even if you struggle to escape - the ticking just gets faster with every desperate attempt to scramble up through the other garbage, with every fruitless attempt to climb up the walls of the bin. No, struggling just assures your doom comes even faster.
And then it explodes. And it’s not a quick, painless death - you can feel every single part of your body come apart, pulverize, and burn away. Shrapnel lodges itself into flesh, and by the end of it all you’re an unmoving wreck. Darkness comes, eventually, once you realize nobody’s coming for you.
But at least once you’re back with the rest of your unit, you’re all sewn back together again - sure, you’re not sure why someone would even bother struggling when it just makes things worse, and your body is barely functional, held together by string and glue - but at least you’re not dying anymore. That’s nice, isn’t it? Another chance to be worth something! ]