EVENT ★ LABYRINTH

[futurologists]

ASTERION PRISON Following Anakin's successful breakout, there are no new inmates added to the cells in Asterion Prison. There are no stops and, though speed is difficult to track in space, it seems as though the ship is now moving more purposely toward its final destination: the trial, the correctional officers say, is coming soon. THE ESCAPE The morning of Audentes’s last day on the prison barge began like any other day aboard so far. Throughout the day there were restless murmurs, though; plans were tentatively talked over and laid out in quiet, conspirator groups. A few more eyes than usual watched the progress of the correctional officers through the hallways. As evening drew in and prisoners prepared to return to their cells to sleep, things quietly began to set in motion. Ninurrta, Urahara, and Lance compiled what they’d learned today and on days previous of correctional officer schedules, and Nami and Fugo were pulled aside and told where and when to be ready. Seasoned thieves that they are, it was almost no trouble to make the keycards of a few officers disappear. The officers would have much larger problems to deal with before they ever noticed the absence. And those problems started right about… now. It’s hard to say exactly who started it, but the safe bet is on a staged performance by Asher and Stiles. As prisoners were shuffling into their cells, tempers suddenly flared, voices suddenly raised, and fists began to fly. It was contagious, especially with Undyne and Giorno’s well-timed encouragements and a few hard shoves at the right inmate’s backs. To the officers’ great exasperation and irritation, the third riot since this rowdy new batch of prisoners was added flared to life. This one didn’t stop at the prisoners, though. Twisted Fate gifted the recreation room with an especially smokey explosion and the fire safety sprinklers reacted instantly, showering down to soak Audentes, fellow prisoners, and correctional officers alike. The officers quickly found it was a little more water than usual -- far too much water than it should be, actually. That was Sai’s subtle assistance, adding transformed water to that already raining down. Those officers not involved in trying to break up the growing confusion pushed into the recreation area to go and put out that new more-than-metaphorical fire, and that was Daenerys and Fiona’s cue to start giving orders. Any Audentes members in the area were rounded up, told to leave now, and no sooner than the last of them was out than Mettaton took center stage. Specifically, the center stage was taken with a searing blast of electricity. It wasn’t quite enough to kill prisoners, but the robotic guards never really stood a chance. They, and all the rest of the robotic crew on their shared circuit, were shorted out and down for the count. The keycards, not forgotten, were passed on to those subtle enough to make use of them. Noctis, Loki, and Widowmaker in particular were entrusted with opening the cells of what inmates had been locked away, and then unlocking the cellblock doors. Audentes would not be turning in for the night as scheduled, and any other prisoners were welcome to come along for their ride. That, however, was when things went a little off the rails. Separated and cornered, Emma flared up and managed what even Mettaton’s electricity hadn’t: an enormous power outage. Ship-wide, in fact. Darkness fell. Keycards were rendered instantly useless in the face of stony, inert doors, and artificial gravity went out with it all. But Audentes is nothing if not up to a little challenge. The doors could still open, it was quickly discovered, with a little brute force. Koltira, Ramir, and Hayame kept up the speed of the now-floating (and no less lively for it) riot, prying open any doors encountered, freeing still-trapped prisoners as they were found. And what was planned as just one team suddenly became two: working on Sieglinde’s careful navigational direction, Peridot, Peter, and Damian were sent toward the locked-down main power grid for a hard reboot of the system, while Prompto, Keith, and Odinson headed toward the navigation room. The timing was perfect. Gravity slammed back on as light flooded the prison once more, just as the second group reached the navigation room. Odinson stood guard as Prompto broke them into the room, and Keith slid into the pilot’s chair to take control of the entire ship… ...which is when things really got started.

THE LABYRINTH Audentes gains control over the prison ship quickly and perilously, freeing fellow inmates to help them keep the correctional officers busy. The intent is to pilot the ship and land it somewhere -- but even that vague plan never really comes to fruition. Something goes wrong, and the ship plummets out of the sky, burning through the atmosphere. Alarms blare and the ship shakes and red warning lights blink in every corner. All you can really do is hold on. The ship crashes into a planet. It's completely trashed; no longer capable of flight. Pieces have torn off in the descent and even more pieces have melted together in the still-burning fires as the wreckage lies between impossibly tall walls. The holes in the hull reveals where personal items -- including weapons -- were being held, so it's probably a good idea to reclaim what's yours before someone else does. There are injuries and casualties all around, including correctional officers and inmates; luckily, no fatalities have struck Audentes, and George is still alive as well, though he's broken an arm in the crash. After scavenging the wreckage for supplies and survivors, the next step is figuring out where the hell this is. A surviving correctional officer has the answer: this is the Asterion Labyrinth, the place where all prisoners must undergo their trial. It seems it's more of a trial by ordeal than anything else, as further exploration makes it clear that all survivors of the crash -- criminals, ALASTAIR, and correctional officers -- are now prisoners inside a maze. OOC NOTES Welcome to Asterion Labyrinth! There is a plotting write-up here, which includes search requests for the first ring of the maze. If you have any questions about the prison that aren't answered here, please direct them to the Leramzen dossier. Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ and you may submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

Comments

( bruce wayne | closed/wildcard )

[controlling]

( closed starters below and plotting comment here! pm me if you'd like any or feel free to wildcard something, you do you, friend. )

maya.

[controlling]

[ the ship is the first place to search. it had enough supplies to keep several hundred beings alive through space. they made it; something must have.

the carcass of twisted metal is its own labyrinth. bruce picks his way through carefully, mindful of jutting sharp edges and exposed wiring. his goal is anything useful with a special mind paid to containers that would hold water, food that can be stored, tarp and covers to erect temporary shelters, extra clothes for warmth.

he hears the sounds of exertion and follows them to find a girl struggling to get at something underneath a heavy case. the metal groans quietly as if it would give way. bruce jumps over a cable. ]

Hold on! Hey!

[ his fingers wrap around the case and he pulls. he’s strong enough to lift it a few inches, but only just. so. please hurry before arms and feet are possibly lost. ]

[feytality]

[Maya's pretty banged up from the crash (not to mention consistent prison hazing), but here she is, struggling in vain with a huge case that's way too heavy with her to try to reach something.]

[He's concerned about food, water, materials to protect them from the elements, make shelters. And she----]

Ughn..... almost got it---

[Well, it becomes pretty obvious what she was risking getting crushed for as she pulls out a set of DVDs of what looks like a children's TV show and hugs them to her chest. Yeah, she nearly broke her arms for that.]

[the only good thing is that she did it quickly enough that he can keep all of his limbs]

Whew... thanks, mister. I almost lost these forever!

[she's injured and they crashed in a strange, dangerous, and unfamiliar place, they're on the run, but this is her priority, apparently]

[controlling]

[controlling]

DVDs?

[ as in. not even blu-rays.

d-v-fucking-d's.

maybe there's something hidden in the cases. maybe they didn't go through a wormhole and land in 2006. ]

[feytality]

[In her time VHS tapes still exist, okay, Ace Attorney is a very dark game series]

[Bruce keeps all of his limbs, and Maya cradles the DVDs to her chest protectively, smiling.]

My Steel Samurai collection! They're special edition, I'd lose it if they were crushed! You really saved me!

[She seems... cheerful... at least, despite the crash landing and how banged up she is and all. Again, this is her priority]

[controlling]

[ lord.

concussed and clinging to movies or not, bruce extends a hand to her to help her. ]

Come on. We should get out of here quickly. The ship's no longer safe.

stiles.

[controlling]

Planning on ever sleeping again?

[ the question is framed as jest as bruce takes a seat next to stiles. the friendly concern in his eyes is anything but. they hadn't set out together, but they had come across each other. with the shadows lengthening across the walls, sticking together for the night made good sense. the fire before them crackles low, issuing more smoke than bruce would like. it couldn't be helped with so much damp and having started it through chemical means.

( "I did go to college," he joked to damian when the boy asked him how he did. damian had been distinctly unimpressed. )

bruce kept the orange jumpsuit. with his other clothes being a formal suit, he prefers the freedom of movement. he rescued the clothes, however, to repurpose as needed. the jacket he left as it was; bruce gave it to damian for the added warmth. father and son are rarely seen without the other and tonight is no exception. he finally got damian down with the promise that the boy would take the second watch. bruce plans to conveniently forget to wake him. ]

waltzes here with literally frozen starbucks while kicking my hiatus to the curb

[figureitout]

Nah, I'm liking the sound of "an eternity awake", you know, adds a solid six hours to your day.

[ as the question is posed in jest, so the answer carries a significant edge of humor in it,if only for show — the truth is he can't sleep, can't even though he's tried, and giving up is easier than the continued frustration of trying to fall asleep and ending up staring into nothing for hours on end. ]

... you guys doing okay? [ "you guys" referring to not just Bruce, but Damian, too. his last conversation with the kid might not have gone very well (frankly, the whole thing went to hell in a handbasket faster than you can say "prison"), but it's okay — Damian is sleeping. the fact that he might not actually hate his guts will never make it back to him. ]

[controlling]

[ before he answers, bruce looks toward damian. the firelight flickers over his face, made younger in sleep. the boy does not relax even now. not fully. he wakes and is fully alert in seconds. he clings to the silver and black lightsaber hilt even in sleep. when bruce fixed the jacket around him one night, he noticed damian keeps a finger on one of the shivs they found.

none of it is normal. all of it speaks to violence.

as if the mark on his forehead wasn't telling.

some of it crosses over bruce's expression. fear and concern. sadness and anger. ( something darker than both just barely kept in check. ) but they all cede to the hint of a soft smile and a warming of his eyes. ]

Yeah. He's resilient.

[ damian shouldn't have to be. there are a lot of things he shouldn't be. and proud though he is of damian's changes and what he means to achieve, bruce remains inordinately sad. ]

damian.

[controlling]

Damian!

[ the light is the crisp, cool of a still early morning when bruce waves the boy over. he jogs the last steps over. bruce tied the top half of his jumpsuit around his waist, remaining clad in the white undershirt. he carries something in his hand, which he offers to damian when close enough: a silver straight-edge. ]

Since it's your idea, [ he points out with a wry turn to his mouth, ] you have to help me with this.

[ he's shaving because he can't handle damian glaring at the beard anymore like it is responsible for everything wrong in his short life. also because damian has him wound around a pinky finger. but largely that first one. ]

[littlestguano]

[Damian takes a second to admire the straight-edge, for a moment thinking that Father is arming him (with a very strange choice of weapons given what they've seen so far in here) and is inordinately pleased. Then he understands its true purpose and he is thrilled.

Thank all that is holy, Father was finally going to get rid of that thing on his face. He has never fully experienced Christmas, but he thinks this must be what it feels like. Damian's smile in sincere and only a little too self-satisfied.]

I have never expressed such a sentiment, Father. [Out loud.] Though I am more than happy to assist. Shall we begin now? You should take a seat.

[controlling]

[ child… ]

You didn't have to.

[ but he takes a seat obediently, chin tilted up. the scruff has since extended past the neatly kept mustache and beard. trimming isn't feasible, and long, scraggly whiskers not something he looks forward to.

still.

calm down before he takes the razor away.

[littlestguano]

[Okay now that he has the blade near Father's throat he is actually considerably calmer. Damian hesitates for a minute, frowning and accessing his canvas. He's never done this before and he doesn't want to screw up and cut him. After another few seconds of figuring out what he wants to do, he moves the blade towards Father's face, careful to angle it just right and then immediately pulls back, cheeks a little red.]

Let me get the water first. [He may have been a little over excited. And Damian is just going to pour out a tiny bit of water into the dip in a rock nearby. The water isn't cold but he does let it sit there for just a minute to reach room temperature.

When it's been sitting long enough, he starts again, this time using his fingers to dampen the beard first. He can't help making a face at the way the hairs feel under his fingers.]

[controlling]

Probably a good idea. [ spoken idly while he watched damian retreat. when damian returns, bruce again obligingly tips his face up.

he's going to get scolded for talking. but. ]

You can quit the faces any time.

a wildcard. lemme know if this is okay!!

[tolight]

[ The search is methodical, thorough, and frustrating. Logically, she knows they're doing all that they could, moving through the maze the best they can to get out — but after hundreds of dead ends, even Lucina's at the end of her patience.

Which is how this starts — once she returns to the main camp, she trains. Channels the restless energy ( which really hasn't gotten better even after their "escape", like she hoped it would ) into something productive, doubly so with her sword by her side. That quickly turns to a joint training session once she spots a specific, familiar face, which in turn quickly turns into a— ]

... Would you like to try sparring? [ Really, what's the worst that could happen? ]

<3

[controlling]

[ arching his eyebrows, bruce chuckles and shakes his head. he dusts off his hands, and climbs to his feet. ]

It wouldn't be much of a challenge. I'm not really a fighter.

[ unless you ask riddler. or clayface. or mr. freeze. or killer croc's cousin here. or loki who saw the end result of that fight. anyway. ]

I just do what I can when I have to with whatever's on hand.

[tolight]

You seem to have the reflexes for them. [ A casual commentary, just based on what she's seen. Which, granted, isn't very much, but what she has seen is enough for her to try and extrapolate. The Falchion in her hand is sheathed again, harness and hilt unbuckled and laid down by her feet. ]

And I could use the practice — especially after ... [ You know, being stuck in a prison without her usual weapon of choice ( even now, her eyes occasionally glance at her sword again, as if it'll disappear on her ). But that should be obvious enough, and instead she opts for a simpler: ] ... It does not hurt to be prepared. [ For the next time it happens— because it will happen again. ]

Of course, that's only if you'd like to.

[controlling]

[ the observation drops into the pool without a ripple to disturb the surface. whatever she sees, bruce is as he has been. he tips his head up to the light and how far it has traveled across the vine-covered wall. they have time before it darkens, and he has no chores left. water supplies were refilled and boiled; food has been acquired; they found a new opening to explore come morning. ]

As long as you take it easy on me. [ he jokes, ] Last thing I need is a sprain.

[ otherwise he would have to sic damian on her and that will not end happily for anyone, least of all bruce himself. ]

[tolight]

[ The condition's met with a small smile, and a nod. She's not nearly competitive enough to try and actually win — this is nothing more than an attempt to get to know the people around her, all the while channeling her energy into something productive. The best of both worlds, for someone who would rather do anything but rest.

She takes a few steps to the side, further away from her weapon, before her entire stance lowers; knees bent, one foot behind the other, hands raised to her shoulders. Far from what her instincts would tell her in a fight, but still familiar enough to fall back on in desperate times.

Once the lines in her body tense, and with a short exhale— ] I'm ready when you are.

graham.

[controlling]

[ beside a small pool, bruce fills a bottle with water. at his feet are two more, each full and stoppered, lying in a green nest of moss and leaves. a blanket refitted into a bag sits at his back.

the light slants over the walls, illuminating the ground in sharp angles. as the bottle fills, bruce cranes his neck up the impossibly tall walls. a feat of engineering, to be sure. ovid's vision of homer's metaphor made real and greater than either man could have imagined. single sheets of walls become skyscrapers. a true urban jungle; a return to zero year.

the footsteps are so quiet, bruce scarce hears them over the soft gurgle of bubbles escaping the filling plastic. he must have heard because he turns his head and, sure enough, another inmate. human. maybe from his neck of the woods. bruce lifts the bottle and twists the cap around it. ]

Know an eight-letter word for "unintended consequence"?

[dishearten]

( it's true, he has a way of slipping around like a shadow, often to the surprise of the unobservant. it's a luxury to have never lived with the need for awareness, he thinks. someone that went by the huntsman for a time in his life has at least a little practice in not leaving much to be noticed.

though, he's not trying hard enough not to be heard that being noticed bothers him. actually, there's a good chance that might not have bothered him at all, unless it was a threat that had spotted him. considering where they were, it's not a place to head if you don't want to be seen. heartless or not, he still needs water as much as any other human. he doesn't have it as good as a bottle, yet the plastic pitcher reclaimed from the kitchens will do for now.

the question is odd, though that fact doesn't reflect on his face. ) Backfire, ( is his suggestion, as he gets what he came for. )

[controlling]

[ a smile threatens at the corners of his mouth. not the one he was thinking of, but — ] That'll work.

[ slipping his bottles ( not his alone, but only one person was necessary to fetch the water ) into his makeshift pack, bruce gets to his feet. his eyes return to the walls, but not to their tops. his interest lies closer to ground-level in whatever may be lurking inside them. ]

Found anything?

[dishearten]

( if this were a true attempt at a crossword, he'd need a starting letter. graham had spent every morning of a good almost three decades filling out crosswords, he was pretty good at it after that much practice. it hadn't felt like much time at the time, though looking back it seemed like a lifetime.

he had quite an extended vocabulary for it, though.

as for what he'd found... well, that's less easy to answer. he and emma had done a little sleuthing, and now both of them were rather worn out from slowly pulling apart a brick wall. ) There was a cache of grenades behind a false wall. Flash, I think. ( he's not sure, he's not an expert on the things, they just don't seem to have the heft or weight that Graham would expect of something explosive.

pulling down the wall explains why he's here for water, though; both he and emma were in need of some, though admittedly, graham doesn't show any signs of being thirsty or tired. he has to assume he's both, though. thanks, heartlessness. ) How about you?

[controlling]

My kid and I found a cave. Looked like it was used as a hideout some time ago. Inside were a few shivs, some blankets. Dried meats, too, but no way to know what animal they came from.

[ no, he has not tried them. they are not yet so starved yet.

bruce dons a thoughtful expression. the shivs were self-explanatory. the prison had them. the blankets, too. each prisoner might be dropped off with basic supplies. teaming up — or scavenging and stealing, one could gather a few. even the meat, with the amount of bones around, could be explained. ( though bruce prefers to continue to think that they're of whatever animals live in these walls. )

flash grenades, though… ]

Wonder how the grenades got there.