November 13th, 2011

[info]companionably in [info]papillonnetwork

Excuse me?

I'm a bit confused.

It's just that I have no idea where I am. Or who I am.

And neither does my girlfriend. I think she's my girlfriend, since we woke up together.

Is anyone else having this problem. Or can someone tell me what's going on?

[info]raisedtohunt in [info]papillonnetwork

Where am I? Does anybody know the name of this place? Or maybe my name? My name would be good.

I woke up here but I don't remember going to sleep. Hello? Is anybody reading this? Are you seeing things too? I know it sounds crazy but I keep Help? Please?

[ooc: So. Adam lost his memories like everyone else. But he does still get... flashes, of sorts, of the time he spent in Hell. Nothing concrete, just horrible occasional images that he doesn't know what they are or how to make them stop. Enjoy! >.>]

[info]n7_spectre in [info]papillonnetwork

Maybe this will help? I seem to be having some sort of weird blackout. I'm drunk, I think. I don't feel drunk, but I just woke up in a bar with a half-finished drink and... well. I can't seem to remember what my name is. Or what this place is.

We'll start simple. Does anyone know my name?

[info]indestructigirl in [info]papillonnetwork

Right. So. To regroup.

I have this phone... thing. It connects to some sort of message board where I can read all of the posts other people are making, and respond if I want. But nobody else near where I woke up has one. Just me.

Which begs the question... anybody out there also in the circus? Or near the circus? Something? Anything?

[info]lonely_god in [info]papillonnetwork

Judging by the evidence, I'm a man who likes his bananas. Also, his pockets. And putting up cabinets? I can't imagine another reason for having a sonic screwdriver, although it seems to have a few extra settings. Interesting, that.

[info]oneofmynames in [info]papillonnetwork

Things I have learned about my "partner:" 

He cringes at the terms boyfriend/girlfriend. He looks down my shirt every 2.5 minutes. He keeps his car stereo preset to "classic" rock--and apparently knows enough of the lyrics to unonsciously start singing along. I say "his" car because he was in the driver's seat when we woke up, and refuses to give it up.

Oh, and either we argue like an old married couple, or like brother and sister. I'm not sure which idea makes him cringe worse.