detentionroom | [KIN'UN]

[You needed an escape.

For a moment– however brief, or however not– you longed to get away. Perhaps you envisioned a vacation upon sunny, beachy shores, palm trees at your back and seagulls floating in the air. Perhaps you envisioned nothing at all, and merely accepted that anywhere but here would do. Either way. . .?

You blink. . . and you wake up slouched on a school desk, arms folded with head resting between. You lift your gaze and realize that you've woken up in the middle of a classroom, seated in one of the. . . uh, very few functional desks that remain. The others have been broken into pieces, with legs and splinters of wood scattered across the floor. Deep claw marks decorate the walls, having gouged the sheetrock with jagged, violent gashes. The window curtains are closed, but they too have been torn and ripped to shreds, with holes showing a dark and unidentifiable landscape beyond the four walls which trap you.

And written on the blackboard, in large, white letters that seem to glow in the midst of the dim room lighting, is a warning]

DO NOT GIVE THEM YOUR NAME.

[. . . you are not alone]

[Each and every new arrival awakens dressed in a high school-issued track uniform. The design is up to the players, but each uniform is already color-coded to match the group at large. Somewhere on your body is a new marking: a mysterious floral design shaded the same color as your track uniform. It is glowing very gently. And in your pocket you feel. . . something warm. Further investigation reveals a tiny little omamri, tucked away in your outfit, for safe keeping. Huh! What a nice gift!]

[For now, the front door to the classroom is locked. No matter how hard you try– with physical prowess or otherwise– the door cannot be opened.]

[But hey! You can poke around the area, if you'd like! Maybe get to know your new classmates. . . ? Try not to panic. For now, everything is. . . calm]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm not what?

[Don't just leave him hanging! He continues himself, though, because he's annoying like that.]

Familiar enough with the goings-on of the Manchester criminal element to know to what or whom "Vulcans" refer to? [He probably has files somewhere back home, actually, on the city itself. He feels as though he cannot say that much.] Perhaps not. But... there is no doubt that you are, and I'd be much obliged if you told me. I am not here to judge.

[She purses her lips and furrows her brow. She looks confused. He's both....right and wrong, in a really weird way?]

You're an Empty.

I shouldn't say more.

What a thing to call a person.

[Ha! His pride might twinge if the situation weren't so absolutely insane right now.]

Fine. You mean to say that I lack something which others have, and so— [GESTURES AT THE CLAW MARKS] Perhaps that isn't too far from your truth. I could not leave those marks, for example. But a Vulcan could?

If I say I shouldn't say more, you shouldn't just immediately figure it out!

[That's probably a yes.]

[i'm sorry he's so annoying like that

Just smiles!]

To be fair, it was a simple enough conclusion to come to. Might I ask you something else?

[he's gonna anyway]

Do I have a choice?

[no]

Is this a situation you find yourself in often? If so, I would have you act with honesty, so that you might suggest a course of action for those of us otherwise swamped with confusion.

...

[She's been in some weird spots before, sure. But never any so...vague. People in her line of work usually are pretty upfront with what they want from you.

Which, she guesses, this one actually kind of was too.]

...names.