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beatrice; bee. (beatrice) wrote in zenithrp,
@ 2016-01-15 22:52:00

Entry tags:

#day 017, beatrice, madison

[who] Beatrice & Madison [COMPLETED]
[when] 10:30am
[where] Lounge
[what] Beatrice wakes up in the Mansion

An hour and a half had passed from the time she awoke, the dreamless sleep bled into a nightmarish reality. Beatrice had no idea how she arrived here, no where here could be on a map. In those first waking moments, with the IV taped to her skin, she had flashbacks of the hospital in Madison. Why dream of that time passed? But alas, it was no dream; not as the IV was removed and she took in the surroundings. The room was comfortable, quaint, and reminded the girl of home. But this was not home. Something was terribly wrong.

Eventually, slowly, but surely, Beatrice figured out her way around the room. A box of clothes sat on the floor with the baggy overalls, tank top, plaid blouse, ball cap, and old Converse shoes she had worn when she went to Madison. Yes, I went to Madison to make two deliveries. I was on my way back... Was I in an accident? After she dressed, Beatrice attempted the door. It was horrifying to think that she was locked in a room. She yanked on it a few times, pounded on the door with a fist, called out to anyone to open the door--but nothing happened. It took a moment two realize there was a computer in the room.

There was no access to email, though there seemed to be an online forum. What was on that forum was the sort of garage that people post on the Internet--namely things about other people that they would not say to one's face. A couple of scrolls and Beatrice stopped reading what she had found. But there was an indicator of a subject name. No sense could be made of any thing. To look at the window provided no clues as to her location, nor were there any indications in the room. The more time she spent in there, the uneasier she became. The room was perfect to her liking--too perfect.

I'm dead. I died. This is like Lost, and I don't think I'm dead but clearly I am in purgatory and this will drag out for six years before I come to terms. Beatrice was incredibly stressed. Her phone, bag, a necklace she had been wearing, among other things, were not in this place. In a fit of frustration, she tried the door again, surprised to find it opened with ease.

She was hungry, somehow tired, and most notably very confused. Outside of the door was something out of a Las Vegas hotel, a room much too posh for anywhere a down-to-earth farm girl would ever find herself on a... Sunday? Monday? It was all too much. Beatrice tore off past the lounging sofas, away from the glow of the modern art, and smack into a complete and total stranger. Unprepared and unaware, she went down and down hard to the floor.

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_burnbabyburn_
2016-01-17 04:38 am UTC (link)

"People get things to do, here. Tasks, tests, whatever you want to call it. But yes, when we're 'off duty', as it were, we're free to do whatever. Except, they're always watching." Madison ate some more as she let Beatrice digest the information. "It depends. Since I've been here, which hasn't been long, we've had to fill out questionnaires about everyone else that were promptly made public the next day. Which is today - so if you hear fighting, that's why. Every little thing everyone said about everyone else - out in the open. Do be careful what discussion you accidentally find yourself in the middle of." She advised, patting Beatrice's hand briefly.

"And I heard something about a creepy poem showing up on the computers, people hearing voices around the house...But I think they test you physically as well. It's a mixed bag, I guess. No one knows exactly why. But the word 'subject' before a number betrays a certain...nature. I feel like this is some kind of experiment. Social, most likely." Considering she had just been invited to participate in Experience B, Madison couldn't be that far off the mark.

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beatrice
2016-01-18 12:29 am UTC (link)

The questionnaire was the public post on the network that looked just as she believed. Psychological and social warfare. This was something to remember for the future, though they got it right in Bambi: if you don't have something nice to say, don't sat anything at all.

Beatrice was not prepared to be caught as the bystander of a survey confrontation. In fact, she felt more tired now than she did before she quite literally ran into Madison. Fatigue was both physical and emotional. It was time for Beatrice to retreat.

Both hands came up to press against her eye and then run down her face. "Um, would you mind showing me how to get back to my room? I think I need to... Yeah." An enthusiastic nod followed. Part of her secretly hoped this was all a nightmare.

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_burnbabyburn_
2016-01-18 12:36 am UTC (link)

The girl seemed overwhelmed, which was to be expected. She watched it all sink in very visibly in her face, and exhaustion take hold as Madison finished her coffee, calmly as usual. There was still a tiny piece of toast she threw into her own mouth, nodding at Beatrice's request as she chewed. "I assume you were coming from it when we...met? If so, it's close to my room. If you need anything, my name's on the door. I'll point it out to you when we get back upstairs." Madison stood up and took the dishes - hers and Beatrice's - and put them in the dishwasher.

"You're going to need clothes later, there's a clothing store in town. By now Chase has probably sent you the map on the network, it seems to be his MO. Come on, I'll take you back upstairs now." With that, Madison smiled and started towards the kitchen door and up the stairs, hoping Beatrice followed.

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beatrice
2016-01-18 02:46 am UTC (link)

Beatrice nodded in thanks for the offer of the open door, so to speak. The two exited the kitchen and as they crossed the foyer once again, Beatrice could not help but feel overwhelmed. The magnificence, the grandeur, was simply not something she sought after in her daily life. She did not go without as a child, but she also did not want for much. She was happy to have the things she did and to desire more seemed exhausting.

There may have been voices in the distance of the house but Beatrice was thankful that she thought no one other than Madison. When they got to her door, Beatrice had a strong urge to reach out to the stranger once more. She flinched momentarily before stuffing her hands into her pockets. It had occurred to her just then that these were the only clothes in the room. Suddenly, she was quite thankful that this was not the day she mucked horse stalls.

"Thank you, Madison," she began with a slight stammer in her voice. There was a desire to express more gratitude. There was also the building sensation that she would soon begin to cry. Even as she almost moved to hug Madison, the real person she wanted to hug was nowhere to be found.

And so, she would retreat into to pseudo-safety of her bedroom, under the watchful eye of unknown monsters. To hide from said monsters, she did what anyone would do: kicked off her shoes, climbed back into bed, and pulled the sheets completely over her head.

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