MHA #6, Early Saturday Morning

[firstofitskind]

As dawn broke, so did consciousness, and he became aware of several things in quick succession:

First, he was not alone in the bed.

Second, he had no idea where he was.

Third, he had no idea who was with him in the bed.

Fourth, he had no idea if he had a name.

"Hello?" he murmured in the ear of the blonde sleeping curled in his arms. "... Good morning?" he tried. That seemed like the sort of thing one ought to say upon waking up with someone, anyway.

[ooc: for that blonde!]

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[firstofitskind]

"Because the sun's awake, so we're awake it's morning. Time to get up."

Obviously.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Mornings are for sleeping," she muttered, her hand groping under the pillow for whatever hard thing was under there. Who fell asleep with metal under their pillow?

Honestly, she had a lot of questions that started with 'who' but this one was staring her literally in the face.

[firstofitskind]

"No," he shook his head. There weren't a lot of things he was certain of, but this was one of them. "We've done enough of that."

What they were supposed to be doing besides sleeping, he had no actual idea.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Says who?" she said, because apparently she was either very contrary or just very allergic to mornings. Except...

Yeah, except with what she'd felt under this pillow had the last bits of sleep flying out the window. She sat up, pillow falling to the ground and blankets puddling at her waist, showing exactly what she hadn't been wearing to bed - and also showing exactly what had been under that pillow with her.

"Okay, but why is there a gun in this bed?"

[firstofitskind]

Well, really, she was both contrary and allergic to mornings. Not that either of them necessarily knew that right now.

"In case you need to shoot someone with it."

[arboreal_priestess]

"Do you normally need to shoot people in bed?" she demanded, getting her first good look at him as she glared up at him. Cute, but completely unfamiliar. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

[firstofitskind]

"If someone threatens you while you're in it, you might," he pointed out.

"And- I don't know," he admitted. "I was going to ask you the same question."

[arboreal_priestess]

"Wait, you don't know who you are?" she scoffed.

[firstofitskind]

"You don't know why there's a gun in your bed," he pointed out.

This was very clearly her room, that much he could tell. There was no way the dresses hanging in the closet would fit him.

[arboreal_priestess]

"You seem to be the one with plans to shoot people," she snapped.

She was coming up a little short on personal details herself, but she was pretty sure she wasn't the kind of woman who went around with guns.

[firstofitskind]

Yeah, that particular bit of internal narrative was going to be hilarious come Monday.

"I don't have any specific plans, no," he countered. "But what other use would you have for a gun?"

[arboreal_priestess]

Or even when they just poked through her room. Any of her rooms. If nothing else, the holster duct taped to the back of the couch would probably be a good clue.

"Shooting things?" Verity suggested. "My brain didn't go right to shooting people!" Mostly because she'd still been confused about it's placement under the pillow. "And who prepares to shoot anything when they go to sleep?"

[firstofitskind]

"Someone who worries about someone coming in to their room to shoot them."

[arboreal_priestess]

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure than anyone who wears dresses like that - " she pointed at the little red number in the closet " - isn't really thinking about getting murdered."

[firstofitskind]

“‘Pretty sure’” he echoed. “So you don’t know who you are either, then.”

[arboreal_priestess]

Yeah, he had her there.

"...no."

[firstofitskind]

“Maybe we’ve been drugged, somehow,” he mused.

[arboreal_priestess]

"What, you don't normally wake up with no idea of who you are and what happened at any point beforehand, Mr. Gun Bunny?" Verity snarked.

Oh god, Monday was going to be just delightful.

[firstofitskind]

“How would I know what I normally wake up like if I can’t remember?” he asked, curious. Maybe this was normal? It’s not as if he had anything to compare it to.

A moment of deeply confused silence, and then... “What’s a ‘gun bunny’?”

[arboreal_priestess]

"Okay but if you woke up not remembering shit all the time, wouldn't you start leaving, like, notes and stuff for yourself? Some kind of record or reminders or whatever?"

She didn't know why, but the idea of leaving a written record of who you were and what you'd experienced just seemed...right. Important.

"And, you know, someone pretty who's overly enamored with their guns. Like the type to, I dunno, cuddle them to sleep?"

Yup. Definitely gonna be a hell of a Monday.

[firstofitskind]

“You think I’m pretty?” Because that was absolutely the part to focus on, here.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Yeah?" she said. "I'm amnesiac, I'm not blind."

[firstofitskind]

“I think you’re pretty too,” he informed her guilelessly.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Which is good because I'm currently naked in bed with you," she pointed out. "If you thought I wasn't, we'd have more problems than just waking up with no memory and a random gun under the pillow."

[firstofitskind]

“Like what?”

[arboreal_priestess]

"Like the fact I'd have to scratch your eyes out if we hooked up and you didn't think I was attractive," she said. Jokingly.

Except really not.

[firstofitskind]

His hands went up to touch his eyes, almost reflexively, and he gave her a horrified look as he let his hands drop back down.

"Well, please don't. Because I do. Think you're attractive."

[arboreal_priestess]

"Glad we both agree that everyone we woke up naked naked next to is pretty," she said, pushing the blankets off and hopping out of bed. Yup. Definitely totally naked. There's a show for you, whatsyourface. "Whaddaya say we start thinking up reasons why we have no idea who we are?"

She bent down to pick up a shirt that, from the size, had probably been hers and discovered a brace of knives under it.

"Oookay, and why this place is filled with weapons."

[firstofitskind]

"Right," he nodded, following suit.

"So it's not just guns, then. Is that better or worse?" ... Was that a crossbow propped up in the corner of the room?

(It was absolutely a crossbow.)

[arboreal_priestess]

"Well, I've just glanced around and I've already spotted like five different weapons, so I'm gonna say worse?" she said, tugging the shirt on. "Mostly because, at some point, having your own armory is..."

Well, it was something. She had no idea what, exactly, but definitely something.

"Look, they all show signs of wear and tear, too," she said, hunkering down to look at, well, more knives. Whoever lived here - her? - really liked knives. "So it's not like this is someone's collection. These weapons get used."

[firstofitskind]

"For what?" he wondered, finally spotting some clothing that looked like it might belong to him.

And also, shockingly, even more knives!

"Nothing good, I'm assuming."

[arboreal_priestess]

"Well, what do you normally use weapons for?" she asked, rhetorically. "It sure isn't visiting sick kids in hospitals and cooking meals for the elderly."

[firstofitskind]

"No," he agreed. "Although they can be used for defense..." This many, though? Seemed unlikely.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Sure," she said. "And the people who live here are clearly worried they need to defend themselves against several army battalions."

[firstofitskind]

"And then we've got," he held up a flask, unscrewing the top and taking a careful sniff. "Water?"

Okay then.

[arboreal_priestess]

"And...ashes?" she said, finding a vial half-full of ash. She opened it up and dumped it on the top of the dresser, poking it with a finger. And then, unable to get a better idea, she swept it off, leaving it to fall to the ground. "I have absolutely no idea what the fuck all of this is about."

[firstofitskind]

"The weapons at least have a purpose, even if we are unsure of what that purpose is," he agreed. Water and ashes, though? What possible significance could they have?

[arboreal_priestess]

"Okay, so we have a ton of weapons, weird stuff that seems to serve no purpose, no idea who we are, and we woke up naked," she said. "Does any of this build to...any kind of logical purpose in your mind?"

She was starting to rifle through the drawers. Surely there had to be something here that would make sense.

[firstofitskind]

"We did something to anger someone," he mused. "And so they retaliated by doing something to our memories. Drugging us."

Anyone who owned- and used- that much weaponry had undoubtedly pissed off a few people in their lifetime.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Then wouldn't you expect them to follow up?" she asked. "Or is it more like a giant prank?" She frowned. "Maybe we knew something. And this is for our protection? Or to keep us quiet."

[firstofitskind]

"Maybe," he said thoughtfully. "It's certainly effective. If I knew something before, I don't now."

[arboreal_priestess]

"But most drugs that'll affect you this way either wipe out everything or are of very limited duration," she said.

Followed by a quietly horrified, "...How the hell do I know that?"

[firstofitskind]

"How do you know that, and not anything about yourself?" he wondered. For some reason, he found himself reaching up to touch a spot on the right side of his neck, just under his chin. "Maybe it wasn't a drug."

[arboreal_priestess]

"Okay, so it's not a drug what are you thinking?" she asked, helping herself to some of the clothing she found in the bureaus.

"I think this stuff is yours," she said, opening up a draw with neatly-folded men's clothing tucked away inside.

[firstofitskind]

"Some sort of... surgical procedure?"

He's strapped to a table, a redheaded man staring down at him, his voice void of inflection as he says:

"I took care of that problem for you. I assure you, she felt no pain."

Hands him a simple gold ring- a wedding band.

A needle, drawing closer, and then-

Nothing.

He blinks, giving his head a shake as if to dispel the... memory?

"Must be," he agreed absently, rummaging through the drawer.

[arboreal_priestess]

"Maybe that's what happened last night," she mused, finding a half-filled out dance registration form for 'Valerie Pryor.' "We were naked because we were looking for scars, sutures, or injection marks. You hurt anywhere?"