idolpro | Heart Game: Hurricane

[The chairs are metal, half covered in exposed wiring and blinking lights. They've got a metric ton of hard edges, and a footrest like the kind at the dentist, and if there were restraints they'd look like something out of a sci-fi slasher flick.]

[You're sitting in one, and the rest of the room, all around you, is the sleek, futuristic white lines of what is undeniably a lab, all monitor screens and tech.]

[Intensity is here, keeping an eye on the holo-screen that reads INCOMING ATTACK: 4:00:00. The numbers are counting down.]

[There is one exit, to the NORTH.]

[Okay, this was jarring.

[WHATEVER HAPPENED BACK THERE this was not where she expected to next open her eyes.]

[The hallway that you step into is sleek and white, brightly lit.]

[There are exits to the SOUTH, EAST, WEST, AND NORTH. There is also a door that reads OUT OF ORDER and another that reads STAIRS TO ROOF.]

[The hangar is gigantic; overhead, a high ceiling set with unfinished beams stretches up for what feels like miles. The walls are sleek and metal, inset with screws, and the area is alive with mechanics and engineers – with prep teams and a medical crew, standing by just in case.]

[A gaggle of techs in white lab coats stand clustered around a holo-display scrolling endless data.]

[Laid out in their docks, compact metal suits are on display for repairs. They are sleek and brightly painted, designed for show and function both; here is one of red and black, bulky and sturdy; here is one in sea glass green and brushed chrome, streamlined and minimal. A balding man in glasses and a lab coat stands near the green suit, taking notes on a holo-screen projected in the air nearby.]

[There are quite a few suits, altogether; workers buzz around them, poking into the exposed wires, already hard at work to mend dents and gashes in the metal.]

[One suit in particular catches your eye.]

[There are exits to the WEST and OUT THROUGH THE HANGAR DOORS.]

[You can communicate with people anywhere in the heart, provided you are wearing a suit.]

[From the roof, you can see half the city, a gleam of neon lights that stretches away beneath the night sky. The air up here feels freer - more open.]

[You love this city, with a fierce and sudden swell of affection. Maybe everything else is falling apart around your ears, but the night air and the sound of cars in the street below fills your heart and lifts your spirits.]

[The stairs back into the building are to the SOUTH-WEST, an open hangar door lies to the SOUTH, or you can head NORTH and take the fire escape down to street level.]

[The city isn't standing anymore. It's possible to see what it used to be: pastel house-fronts and picturesque windows, and far away down in the water, a single strut of the Golden Gate Bridge is still standing.]

[But it's in the minority, now. All around you are the leftovers of shattered buildings, chunks of concrete and broken glass, dessicated corpses that lay where they've fallen.]

[You're tired, and you're hungry, and all you want to do is rest.]

[But you can't, can you? There's still so much to do.]

[There are exits to the WEST and SOUTH.]

[To the EAST, there's a large church, still mostly standing.]

[This room has seen better days. In stark contrast to the sci-fi chic of the rest of the area, the walls are crumbling plaster with exposed brick underneath. The sole window is boarded up; the entire room smells of rot and things long forgotten.]

[There is one exit, to the SOUTH.]

[It looks like there was an exit to the NORTH until just recently. Now there is a crude brick wall standing in what used to be a doorway. The mortar is still wet]

[Cinderella’s castle stands like something out of a fairy tale, peeking out over the tops of the buildings -- all elegant towers and tapering spires. It’s an improbable shade of pastel, and up above it, in the sky, the clouds have begun to tinge the same impossible cotton candy pink.]

[On the banks of the Rivers of America, where you stand, a sign welcomes guests to the Pirates of the Caribbean with a skull and crossbones. Inside, past the empty ropes to cordon off crowds that aren’t here, the shape of a treasure chest looms in silhouette, larger than life.]

[Out on the water, something has collapsed the side of the riverboat Mark Twain, crumpling its pristine white siding into rubble.]

[And all around you, the ground is littered with monsters, dying or dead.]

[They're all shapes and sizes: narrow ones with claws and whiplike tails, and slick black ones covered in eyes, and ones that look like vanilla pudding, gelatinous and milky, the internal structures visible through the skin.]

[There are exits to the NORTH and SOUTH.]

[The church is still mostly in one piece, though the stained glass windows facing you have all been shattered. Around to the side, you can just make out the shape of several open graves, dug into the hard soil.]

[In front of the church stands a man with a megaphone in long, white robes. Or at least, they used to be white. They’re kind of a sickly grey now, especially near the hem, where they’re so caked with grime they come close to black.]

[He lifts the megaphone and speaks into it:]

Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.

[There is one exit, to the WEST.]

[The streets of Tokyo-F are clean and lively. Here, the plants are real, but the buildings are empty, just like in the real city. The people walking past are faintly blurry, more the idea of a crowd than a crowd in actuality. You may catch sight of faces you know; you may even catch sight of you.]

[Near the exit to the WEST, the streets become dingier and less bright, the buildings damaged. To the NORTH, you catch sight of someplace you think you know.]

[There are three exits: NORTH, WEST, and EAST.]

[You know exactly where this is; it looks the same as it does in the real world. The trees out front of the JR Kyushu Hotel Blossom Shinjuku sway gently in the breeze, and through the windows you can see the lobby, lit by a warm yellow glow.]

[There are exits to the NORTH and SOUTH. To the EAST is the Game Tower.]

[The DOOR TO THE HOTEL is also open.]

[Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you hear it: a voice over the intercom, tinny and distant:]

Countdown complete in thirty minutes. Brace for incoming.

[The sky is a nightmare vision by now, like some horrific dreamscape, swallowed up by deep red and bruise purple, the colors radiating out from a central point like a spreading infection. The clouds crowd out any hint of the sun, so thick they seem solid, and they churn and shift and pulse in ways that have nothing to do with the breeze.]

[Just inside the hotel doors, there is no lobby or elevator. Instead, you step directly into… well, if you've been to the HSS dorm before, you recognize it.]

[If you haven't, it looks like someone designed a secret base for a team of superheroes straight out of a 90s kid's show, complete with color-coded chairs and about a billion buttons and switches and monitors. For some reason, there's a mattress and a couple of blankets crammed into the corner of the room.]

[It looks like someone's trashed the place, though. Some of the monitors are cracked, spiderweb splinters stretching out across the screens. The mattress has been gutted, stuffing strewn about the floor. There is a framed picture that used to hang on the wall; it's fallen to the floor, the glass from it a shattered mess.]

[In the center of the table, a series of plastic action figures have been posed as though preparing for a fight. Hiryuu is riding her dog like a valiant steed. Mori is holding a hand out to Hurricane.]

[The places in front of each chair are set as though for dinner, but there's nothing on any of the plates, which are chipped and broken.]

[There is one exit, to the SOUTH-WEST.]

[The apartment’s a tiny kitchen-living room combo, shabby and dim. On the kitchen side, there are a cookplate, a refrigerator, a trashcan, a broom, and a metal table with two chairs. Several cabinets line the wall. There's a plate of fried rice sitting out on the counter, untouched, with a pair of chopsticks beside it. In the living room, there is a coffee table, a monitor on the wall, and a small metal box on the table.]

[Every available surface is covered in schematics. A severe-looking woman in a lab coat, her hair pulled back into a bun, is bent over the papers to study them.]

[There is an exit to the SOUTH.]

HQ

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