A Midnight Gathering (April 2017) [open to everyone]

OOC; I don't know if I'll do these regularly but it may be cool. This topic takes place the night of arrival. For the safety of continuity, just assume all topics going on now take place after this meeting, and RP accordingly.

So the game had a day cycle. The moon rose hours after the first wave of players were inserted into Project Aubade, a splendid, massive moon. It was bigger than the one on Earth had ever appeared. Wolfgang found himself staring at it from his residence window, and as he was exploring the rest of the city, wrestling his attention from the burning panic in his mind. Something had to be done. The players had scattered off alone or in small groups. Something had to be talked about.

Wolfgang arrived at the cathedral in the dead of night. The massive building had always been in his view, towering over the long stretches of apartments and market stands. Before it, it seemed even more massive, the roof spiking in a crimson gray, the buttresses slicing the moon in half as they ascended the building. It was likely the best place he could hold a meeting. He swiped his interface, the gesture still feeling absolutely ridiculous, but scrolled down to the 'Message' tab.

______________________________


>create message

"Let's have a gathering at the cathedral and talk about what we're going to do."

>send to all

______________________________

The message even appeared in his inbox, a red indicator accompanied by a light ding! It had to have appeared in everyone else's.

Wolfgang opened the massive doors of the church. It was empty inside despite the bright illumination of the chandeliers. The boy walked up, footsteps tapping themselves out on the vaulted ceilings, a sharp echo. He made his way to the pulpit, where he leaned over it, resting his head in his palm and yawning. Apparently, even video game characters got a little sleepy. Who knew?

Damian had been lying in his bed when a notification popped up on his Interface, saying that a new message had been received. He opened it up, and saw the sender was someone he had no idea who it was. "Let's have a gathering at the cathedral and talk about what we're going to do." Damian shrugged, getting out of his bed. "Why not, not like I have anything better to do," he muttered to himself, heading towards the cathedral. He headed up the steps to the massive Gothic building and entered through the slightly opened doors. The boy looked around the massive room, only noticing the person that had called for the meeting. "This couldn't have waited until morning?" Damian asked.

---

Shortly behind Damian came Barry. The 27 year old still had no idea what he was doing here, but a meeting to decide what the plan was sounded like a good deal. He headed up towards Wolfgang and Damian, marveling at the impressive architecture of the building. He enjoyed studying different methods of building and all the different styles used throughout the centuries. "The sooner we figure out what we're doing the better," Barry said.

'Ding!

A notification blinked to alert him-- and with a swift tap, Shepard opened the message. A frown crossed his face. That was what Hano wanted him to go back into the city for. Although, the message had not been sent yet when she alerted him to something he would want to attend. How she knew about the meeting was narrowed down to the fact that she was some sort of AI. What he could piece together was that she was not a NPC. What happened then was definitely not scripted.

But in the same note... Fuck. He fell in love with an AI. Was that wrong? Were there laws against that? Shepard felt conflicted--she was beautiful, but fake at the same time. Damn it.

Whatever the case, Shepard walked through the doors of the church. He turned his head upwards and let out a long sigh. Hopefully Mackenzie would show up, he was too tired for this shit.

The notification had appeared all of a sudden in a separate and flat rectangle, placing itself in the foreground with a blinking vermilion as his fingers slide through the UI. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the corners of his lips turning upward. "Isn't that an interesting idea?" Only the pitter-patter of the fountain answered him, the iridescent moon reflecting off the clear pool's surface, its image disrupted by waves of ripples. It seemed like the sun had set some time ago, around the same time that the players had dispersed and begun exploring the new world.

So this player wanted to hold a meeting on the project's holy grounds. His vision cleared once again, taking steps towards the building in question. Massive doors towered over him, mosaic-like windows filtering rays with a light from inside the source. Voices, muffled by the walls that separated them, could be heard though no words were distinguishable. Others were already inside.

A blonde boy from the morning with whisker-like marks on his cheeks, a dark-haired male with sharp green eyes, a brunette boy, and an adult. The green-eyed person only questioned why the meeting couldn't have waited until morning. "I don't believe anyone personally requested for your presence here," he smiled, an almost-innocent expression washing over his features. "Unless you were being forced at gunpoint to come, then my most sincerest apologies." He didn't sound sorry in the slightest, taking a place to lean against the wall, arms crossed a good distance away from the rest of the group, part of his figure covered in shadows.

Mackenzie had been taking her time exploring more of the town of Roslare itself, making a mental map of it in her head along with playing around with her user interface. Time lead her to explore that she had found some gear along with her weapon - the longbow. Evidently, she had been thrown into the Ranger class. It was a fact that she found rather amusing, considering her background in running. To her, it seemed as if they had chosen her class based on her whole life history. Her stats seemed pretty decent, something she'd pick out personally.

The gear she had found consisted of an outfit that reminded her of the age-old classic character Robin Hood. Heck, to complete the look she even had a black cloak she could drape over her outfit. Which, was exactly what she did. With her arrow quiver tucked safely at her hip, and her weapon strung across her back, she looked as if she fit perfectly into the world as a Ranger. It was both comfortable gear and rather fitting for her body-type. As she studied herself, the sharp pitch of the notification sound had shocked her. That was most definitely new, and by the sound of it, others had gotten it as well.

With a quick check of her menu, it wasn't long before Mackenzie had made it to the Cathedral. Her lips parted in awe at the beauty of the place, during her little tour of the city she had simply strolled past. Despite the heavy night-time hours, she was shockingly alert. Days of practice of being able to pull all-nighters was definitely paying off.

Spotting her bright-blond brother almost immediately, a quick jog placed her with the other group of people. Flipping down her hood, her sapphire gaze checked out each and every one of the people around her. Of course, she recognized her brother Shepard. Aside from that though, everyone looked unfamiliar. Was there a chance that there was actually no one else here she knew besides him? That was a rather... interesting predicament. Another, more thorough glance through the crowd revealed the... girl? boy? Person. The person from earlier in the morning, to be there too. "So I'm not the only one who got a notification in the middle of the night to come here, it seems..." Her words were a half-mutter, half spoken sentence.

Almost defensively, Mackenzie gravitated towards the back of where the group was gathered. She was more intent on simply listening for the time being.

Sawyer gandered throughout the the roslare shop, poking at the shelves which held his future inventory build. He walked past a mirror only to stop and walk back towards it. A long forest-green cloak was draped over his shoulders with grey pants complemented by boots and a silver-blue armored shirt. It was custom ranger class attire. He approached the cashier in which he traded his few bits for a nicer, sturdier bow with a matching quiver. He quickly fastened the leather quiver to his belt and strapped the bow on his back, only to be startled by a loud ding. His fingers swiftly worked at the Interface as he read the message sent to him. 'A meeting? This late at night? What a bother...'

The ranger slipped out of the store and started a quick jog to the giant cathedral that hovered above most of the square. Approaching the steps he could hear the commotion of the members as they talked in a panicked murmur. Sawyer walked into the room peering around at the other members, soon after taking a seat on one of the wooden pews to wait for the meeting to start. It'd be nice to get some answers, or at least some kind of understanding as to what was going on.

Idris' fingers swiped away at the interface, the holographic glow illuminating her face in the darkness of her apartment. She could mess around with this for hours - everything it did should have been impossible, but it wasn't. Plus, along with the seemingly useless cross, she'd found some more interesting things - namely, a long, heavy sapphire cloak with silver gauntlets, a simple white tunic that fell a little short and a brown leather belt. She'd put it all on, amused by how much she looked like a video game character. Oh, right. She didn't bother switching it if her jeans or Doc Martens - they were fine and comfortable as they were. Her fingers swiped over a module of the interface labeled 'guide.'
So the cross could heal. Her stats weren't bad - all that magic must be good for something. There must be something else she could get though, something she could defend herself with. Still the ability to instantly heal herself was nothing to joke about.
Cleric. I can make this work.
However, her self-tutorial was interrupted by a loud ping that seemed to echo in her otherwise empty apartment. "Shh!" she hissed at the device, before opening up the message. Wolfgang? She assumed that was another player. What better things did she have to do? If this little midnight meeting would help her escape, she was all for it.

Idris stepped into the threshold of the cathedral, squinting her eyes for a second to adjust from the darkness of the outdoors. There was a surprising number of people who'd turned up, all in the same sort of fantasy attire as she. Other players, she was sure. She took a seat - the first free space she saw, in between two others, and kicked up her feet on the pew in front of her, waiting for the meeting to begin.
"You know, it's lucky I wasn't planning on getting any sleep tonight."

Jacqueline had spent the better part of the day trying out the interface. So, apparently she was a lancer. Not bad, especially with the iron spear she'd found. The stats she'd been given for her perfectly, with her light and nimble physique. She'd committed the information she'd discovered to memory, and changed into the ruby-red cloak, black boots and belt she'd been given. She liked the black dress with lacy trim she'd been wearing too much to change, but otherwise liked her new attire. Now, she roamed the streets of Rosalare - meet the NPC locals, see the town - get a bite to eat. She was stuck here, and she was better off trying to enjoy what she could rather than rattling at the cage bars. She took one last bite from her burger and slid off her bar stool, boots clacking on tiles as she exited the pub. Surprisingly good food, she noted.
Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by a sharp ding. Curious, Jackie tapped the message - she'd never gotten one of these before. Wolfgang Pearson - she'd heard that name, back when she'd first landed here. And the cathedral - that was just down the street, wasn't it? What the hell.
She pushed open the heavy doors of the church, heels click-clacking on the cold stone floor. She rather enjoyed the gothic decor of the place - definitely her aesthetic, whatever that was. She made her way up to the pulpit, and gave the sleepy boy a friendly wave, resting one arm on the surface. "Jaqueline - Jaqueline Pink, or just Jackie for short. I'm assuming you're Wolfgang? The one that called this meeting? I'm glad as hell you did."

Wolfgang wasn't the best public speaker. To his relief, the cathedral had begun to fill with people as he loitered over the lectern, gradually raising his head at the group of players. Everyone was wearing such strange clothing. He had to get used to being in a Japanese RPG.

He shrugged at Damian's exclamation. What else could he do? He knew everyone would have trouble sleeping. Did people even sleep in his world?

The boy didn't even notice when a girl approached him. He looked up, caught off guard a bit. He had already been on edge about addressing such a large crowd, and well, the situation at large didn't but him in ease. But why was he the one to officiate this? The quicker he could pass the baton, the better.

"Yo," the boy said. "That's me. I'm glad you could make it."

He wasn't sure when he was supposed to start. He remembered there being more people at the fountain than who arrived at the meeting.

---

Rory entered through the door when there were already a good amount of people there, slipping through the door silently. She didn't want to come at first, opting to stay in her room, but something drew her to try it out. Any information was vital information to her survival. Her eyes were red and creased, but her glare was strong. She sat against the back wall, on a wooden bench.

Olive had been in this new, weird world for only a small amount of type. She was barely getting the hang of all of the surroundings, when she recieved the text. She jolted and looked at her screen, pondering over the short and direct call. Ever since she was brought here, her self-preservation instinct had grown and she was much more careful. After a few minutes of thought, Olive decided to go and see what the gathering was about. The girl made her way towards ths gathering spot, walking oddly in her new, unusual outfit. The gathering spot was kinda deserted, aside from a couple other people. She looked up at the boy standing on the ledge. He looked nervous. Olive shurgged and sat down on the sidewalk, yawning. She needed sleep, but she also wondered what the boy had to say.

His eyes flashed open to a sky he didn't recognize, in clothes that didn't belong to him, or any kind of clothes he'd ever seen someone wear outside of those nerd conventions. Lights popped in his vision, bright spots that bobbed and danced just ahead of him. He couldn't get up. Right then, with all that sensory overload, it was like all the blood in his body had turned to lead, pinning his wrists and ankles to the cold stone.

There were a couple things to take in.

First, he wasn't where he was before.

Second, he wasn't anywhere he could recognize. Not in Seattle, sure as shit. You could never see this many stars in the city. Or anywhere. He winced, reaching up to rub the back of his head, trying to rankle his brain for some recollection of what the hell had happened... But it was all static, a blur, some rustling bushes beneath I-5 and a white flash of pain.

His eyes adjusted to their new surroundings, focused, and he realized those weren't lights at all. They were butterflies, fluttering on smooth glossy wings, like glass. He turned to look around without lifting his head from the ground, taking in the market square, the trickle of fountain water, and not a peep from anywhere.

No roar of traffic. No sirens. No, they weren't in Kansas anymore.

Where the hell was this? Renaissance Verona? He might've laughed if his stomach hadn't been twisted in knots. His eyes flicked up right back to the sky, reaching for that huge moon... A screen spread out in front of him, booting to life under his fingertips.


He let his hand hover over the interface.

If he could've seen himself then, he was sure he would've looked like an idiot, mouth hanging open, that dopey, blank expression. But this was too much. If he'd processed it piecemeal, maybe he would've been screaming his head off. Instead, he was numb to it.

Maybe he'd hit his head too hard. This was some kind of dream, or hallucination, or something. But he'd been fucked up, beaten 'til he blacked out, pushed around, and he'd never known any dream or trip or anything as vivid as this.

The idea was too ludicrous to say out loud, but the thought still flashed through his head.

Trapped in a video game.

Seamus tapped the first menu option that jumped out to him. An iron spear fell out from midair, right into his open palm. He let it clatter against the ground as a red mark popped out in front of him with a light ding! that almost made him jump out of his skin.

A... message.


This was ridiculous. But it was the slightest bit of a lead he had to finding answers about this place, and he wasn't about to pass that up to go crawl into an alleyway, as tempting as that sounded. Seamus pulled himself to his feet, sensation returning to his limbs, using the spear as a crutch to pull himself up.

The butterflies fluttered past him, peaceful. He scanned the rooftops, searching the skyline for anything that might've resembled a church. Tall spires, black against the cool blue night and lined in moonlight, seemed like the best bet he had. Either way, there wasn't anything to do besides go. Every moment here was a moment wasted.

Seamus started moving.

It was like learning to walk again.

It was like dying and being reborn.

---

---

His hunch looked like it was right. He'd been walking through the winding city streets, cobbled roads and old school buildings, like something out of a fantasy movie, and it wasn't long before he was close enough to make the cathedral out more clearly. Light spilled out from the open entrance, the doors swung open like an open maw. Silhouettes. People. Other human beings beside him.

Seamus tightened the grip on his spear and slowed to a creep, one foot in front of the other, spear poised. He wasn't that much of an idiot to run in expecting it all to be hunky dory. Especially after he'd been... kidnapped, or drugged, or something. If these were the same people... You could never be too sure. With deep controlled breaths, he made his way forward, sticking to the shadows, until he was just by the entrance, just out of sight, able to make out the features of the people inside the building.

Caution. Vigilance. All that bullshit.

He narrowed his eyes, just out of earshot, only able to pick out bits and pieces of their conversations... But it didn't sound like he was missing much. Snark. Bitching. Half of them didn't look too happy to be there. Seamus studied their faces, pulling back his spear. Had they all gotten the same message? Were they like him?

These were a bunch of teenagers.

Caution. Vigilance, or whatever. Blah blah blah. His trigger finger was itching. Seamus leaned forward to listen more, and the more he heard, the more he felt his eye twitch.

Dear holy fuck. What a bunch of sarcastic little cunts.

He could take on some kids if worst came to worst. Fuck caution. Seamus burst forward, spear dragging behind him, bold as you please. "Alright. Cut the crap." What kind of name was Wolfgang anyway? "What the hell is all this?"

The blond at the front sat backwards in the pew, watching the last of the players trickle in--either plopping down on a seat or leaning against the back wall. Each of them offered their own snarky quip, comment, or glare. Identical blond hair flashed in the corner of his eye, causing Shepard's head to whip to the side--catching a glance at his sister's face before she faded into the shadows almost like she wasn't there. Mackenzie couldn't do much to hide from him, and the  twin blond made a note to catch up with her when the gathering dissolved.

Entrances began to slow, and the fighter casted a glance toward Wolfgang who had identified himself to another player. The guy didn't seem in that much of a hurry to take the lead--even if he had been the one to send the message. In a sudden movement, another player burst forward, sharp weapon dragging along behind him. He was a lancer by the look of his weapon.

Blue eyes sent another glance at Wolfgang before answering the Lancer--making sure to retain eye contact. "A meeting to plan out how we want to tackle our five level problem." The teen answered, standing up on the seat of the pew to face the others in the room, voice being amplified by the magnificent archways in the cathedral.

"Seeing that there are quite a few people here, we should start."

Again, Shepard sent a glance down at Wolfgang. How did he feel about Shepard taking the lead? Hopefully it didn't piss him off, making enemies wasn't his priority at the moment. The blond hoped that Wolfgang would add his own thoughts as they spoke. "Now, I know that we were brought here under circumstances that widely varied, but that doesn't change is our goal." A pause, followed by a deep breath. "We have to aim to defeat all five levels. Sooner we beat them, the sooner we can go home."

His eyes reflected the candlelight that illuminated the room, gauging the reactions of the other players with his next suggestion. "In order to do that, I believe a group of three should be taken to the gates. Not only to have higher chances of beating them--but also to preserve lives. After all, we only have three. It would be best to save them." Shepard tilted his head forward and continued. "Sharing information about quests, skills, NPCs and classes would best benefit us all, allowing us all to get stronger and break though gates faster. Meaning--" He paused, shifting his stance on the wooden bench. "If a group fails to break through the gate, they can alert the next group as to what they may be facing."

Looking up, Shepard let out a sigh and gave the group in front of him a determined look. Almost like he was set in his ways--sure of his belief.  "Working together and offering what knowledge we know to each other in order to better all of our skills would make us all stronger. Fighting amongst ourselves would only hurt us in the long run." He hoped that this was a shared ideology among the group gathered, the last thing Shepard wanted was a murder within their midst.

Wolfgang was going to speak until Seamus cut him off. Who was this guy? He looked down at him, and it was in this hesitation that Shepard spoke. Oh well. What he had to say wasn't much anyhow. He listened to the blonde player, and scratched his head. Teamwork seemed nice, he supposed. However...

"Why are you so eager to play his game?" the boy asked, crossing his arms, his index finger flicking in and out of his closed fist. "It sounds good and all, if we want to risk lives in the first place. Who is forcing us to press on? This man has to be found eventually." He glanced around the room, at all the faces, including the new guy. "He kidnapped all these people. The police have to be onto him. What makes you think we won't be pulled out of this nightmare if we just wait?"

The sounds of cicadas filled the silent air, a calm breeze passing through the aperture by the altar. The new guy. He spoke, didn't he?

From the pulpit, Wolfgang was considerably taller than him.

"When did you get here?" he asked, expressionless. He didn't remember seeing him when they all woke up. Up his back etched the tendrils of icy blood. Was he late? Was this man still adding players?

"When did you wake up?"

Barry honestly agreed with Wolfgang. Why was Shepard so eager to play? He understood that the faster they got through the levels the faster they could get home, but what if Wolfgang was right? What if the governments are searching for everyone as they spoke? The green-eyed man remained silent as he waited for more to speak up, as he wasn't really the type to speak out much unless he needed to.

---

Damian, on the other hand, couldn't be any more different from Barry. "But what if they aren't? Are you really willing to risk the chance of being in here forever on the chance that the government is looking for us?" he asked. Then Seamus walked up and Damian crossed his arms and fumed quietly. Damian had never seen Seamus before, so he assumed that he was a recent addition, a thought that infuriated him even more. Why were these people adding more and more players? What were their motives in doing this? Questions raced through the boy's mind as he absentmindedly waited for more people to discuss the "plans" that Wolfgang and Shepard had proposed.

Everyone was making comments and remarks that didn't seem to have a steady flow of conversation, talking over one another without really trying to have a coherent topic. A cacophony of voices crowing and moaning about how late the meeting was taking place, how they were glad the gathering was happening, and a myriad of other comments that weren't necessarily important. They were all whining and complaining, for the most part. Several other players had entered, all of them having been at the initial wake-up, save for one or two. The girl with hair parted evenly into separate colored pieces and the boy with dark hair that looked blue in the right light. While the girl seemed rather at loss about everything, the boy had cut to the chase, thus causing the gathering to actually be underway.

Shepard was the one to take the lead, accounting how they should go about tackling the game and coming up with an actual plan on the best way to approach it. He wanted to play the game and beat it fair and square. Whether he had thought all of this through before coming to the meeting or not, that didn't matter, but at the very least, it was the fact that the whiskered blonde wanted to make clearing the game a community and unified effort. Everyone would contribute in some way or another and they would get out together.

Together.

On the other hand...

The one who had called them here in the first place spoke against playing around and struggling to find a way out in the cage. Wolfgang believed they wouldn't have to do anything before the person got caught. They would simply have to wait it out. It didn't take very long for two opposing and clashing factions to form within the group of players around. This was to be expected, really. Everybody had a different approach to how to beat a game.

That boy with sharp green eyes took his turn, retorting how everything shouldn't hinge on the chance that they would be saved. Callum clenched his eyes closed, and rather softly, he took the opportunity to add his own two cents, not worrying as to whether or not his voice would carry through to everyone's ears. It was not anything that most wouldn't know if they played enough video games.

"He's sadistic enough to kidnap us and trap us in here. Who's to say that he won't punish us if we do absolutely nothing for too long?" His eyes fluttered open, seemingly glowing for a brief moment. "Game creators can be cruel like that."

Olive huffed, feeling cold laying on the cobbled path. Everyone was talking, but the mage could make out the two main parties. She huffed again. "Would you have ever expected that even kidnapped and thrown into a virtual world people would be less political. Wrong." she said, mainly to herself. She didn't expect people to notice her, maybe for her bizzare haircut, but not really for anything else. She had no stand, and even if the blonde boy had a more practical approach, she didn't expect people to follow him. "Y'all should go and do what you want! For all I know, we could stop and just live in Roslare, but do you honestly want that? Did you get Stockholm syndrome?" she called out at the other boy, who opposed and suggested they got comfy in the new world.

She looked around and felt more pissed than ever. She could hardly see anyone who shared her type of outfit and could only speculate that this game would be always dominated by brutes who thought they could controll the public. She stopped and lighted a flame between her hands, warming her skin in the night. After her taunt she fell quiet, not really wishing to be picked out of the crowd and questioned for her careless attitude, but for all she cared, those kids could consider her an NPC, she didn't mind.