contractuallybinding | (no subject)

You awaken as all Blanks do. You are dressed in a simple deep purple uniform, merely a tunic and trousers. No identification, and though there are pockets, there is nothing in them. You are in a simple bed, in an otherwise sparsely furnished room. There's a small box for possessions and a chair, a small ledge one might make do for writing... and little else. The walls are stone and unremarkable, and a torch glows on the wall, smokelessly burning without consuming any of the wood.

No, there's only four notable things:

One, you don't know who or where you are. In fact, as far as you know, your existence began right at this moment.

Two, on the wall are written these words:
"Thou art a Blank slate, unburdened from thy past.

Thou shalt fight in the Judges' games, to reclaim thy past.

Thou shalt honor the rule of the Judges above all else here and know no other patrons.

Who was once thy friends and allies mattereth not to a Blank. Thy unit is thy family here. None other can thou trust.

Thou hast entered this place willingly."

Three, a small brass telescope is nearby. If you look into it, it will hold an image of a person who is who you used to be (though until you speak, you wont know the voice. Until you see yourself, you wont recognize the person). A brief message to you plays out, and ends with the words "I do this willingly."

And four, you can hear someone else waking up nearby.

In the semicircle of rooms that surrounded the sparse common area, the one at the top, or directly opposite the door outside has one person within who has systematically gone through every last fragment of an inch of his room upon waking. It hadn't been an issue of trying to find out who he was, after all, his existence at this point, was singular. But each discovery put together a world that was his. So clearly, he should know it.

It wasn't even the intrusion of other sounds that pulled him out. Though he heard and acknowledged them, they would be dealt with on their own time. But a simple satisfaction that anything that he could do, was not only done, but done to every extent he could think of.

Which is why, when he leaves his room to find someone, anyone else, a rather staid looking man gives a rather simple, imperious demand. "Explain yourself."

And perhaps, you have to do so.

Edited 2020-03-27 01:09 (UTC)

The call had come while they were out exploring. Sometime, as they were walking through the caves, each one seeming the same as the last, shadows jumping in their single torch, a sound like trumpets had bounded through the air.

It settled into each of their minds, stirred them to simply stop, and as one, they each turned and walked directly back to an enormous double door. Other people - most much younger than the three men, and all wearing other colors - were also gathered, and as the double doors opened, they were let into an enormous arena.

It was then, and only then, that they realize they had been controlled and how little choice they'd had in coming there. They'd no more held control of their feet than they had of the air they breathed or the ground they walked on.

The arena had been massive, a beautiful, sunlit sky in it, and soft grass on the ground...and in the center was a throne that housed a statue at least ten men tall. The marble figure in it sat still, though when they blinked, the expression changed. The figure was a man in a twisted clown mask. It was fashioned into laugh, but his giggles held nothing but rage and madness.

The first round required them to come up with lymmerics. The dirtier and sillier the better. Many teams had laughed and chatted amidst the bawdy rhymes and deadpan revelry.

The next had asked them to dance, and dance many did, though there was no music or beat. No two danced the same, though many danced with each other, exchanging makeshift names, and sometimes a smile and a wink.

And finally, the last round, they were told that this was the only round that mattered. This was the important one, that would determine who would win.

Kill someone. Anyone. Anyone who killed, their team would win.

Between Bastard and Wisp, Fawn is covered in blood.

All three of them hold a single piece of paper as they stand at the door of their dorms, with little idea of how they had gotten there.

They were the one of three teams to win.

As a bit of background for scene setting

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