Prologue: Where is "Here"?; 3rd Person POV
Logan was the first of the Sides to come to, seeing the other three sides as close to him as they could be without needing to change their appearances. Pounding Headache, he noted, but no sign of a bruise where the pain seems to be centered. Which just happened to be in his temple. Probably a stress-headache, then.
Aching pain in his left wrist… Did Thomas fall and hurt his wrist?
"Ugh," he heard Virgil groan, but Patton and Roman both seemed to be waking up as well.
"Are you alright?" he asked curiously, thankful that Patton and Roman seemed to also be processing the question.
"Sore." Virgil groaned but stood up anyway.
"Tired." Roman yawned through his response.
"Hi Sore and Tired, I'm Dad." Patton was clearly just fine, though the slight twinge as his too quick rise was impossible for Logan to miss.
"That was unnecessary." Virgil huffed but still smiled smally at the normalcy of Patton's Dad Jokes.
"Where are we?" Roman asked, finally seeming to put himself together enough to stand up.
"I'm not sure." Logan admitted, though his gaze was quick to land on the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that was at the moment on his left.
"Does anyone else not remember how we got here?" Virgil asks tensely.
Roman and Patton looked unnerved, but hopeful when they turned to Logan.
"I have no recollection of it, either." he admitted. Which was honestly the most concerning thing. If he didn't remember it, the only other person that possibly would be able to, it would be Virgil.
"That's not good." Virgil muttered lowly, normally it would probably be paired with a sly smirk, but instead, he looked completely unsettled.
"Why are there people on the other side of the glass?" Roman asked suddenly.
Though it was random, the Prince wasn't wrong. There were five people who could only be doctors talking between themselves and multiple computer screens on in front of the glass.
"It's bulletproof." Logan pointed out, then realized that that statement was less helpful. "Sorry."
"The doors are also locked." Virgil pointed out, clearly falling into the same rift that caught Logan, considering there was an ever so slight modulation to his voice that typically happened when Thomas' anxiety was heightened.
"Doors?" Patton questioned, stunned, turning to follow Virgil's gesture.
All four finally started to take in the rest of the room and one thing stands out to them.
"That's not Thomas." Patton says rather simply, and gestures to the only cot in the room, bolted to the floor and the corner of the two blank cinderblock walls.
Logan frowned. "No, it is not." he agreed tensely.
The lack of fuchsia hair gave that away, instead, their hair was- while being parted on the same side- a vibrant red with a dirty blonde undercut, and clearly longer than Thomas'. Not to mention they seemed shorter than their Host.
"Then where is he? We wouldn't be here if he wasn't here with us." Virgil questioned, clearly being slightly overtaken by his main attribute.
"Which raises the question, where is exactly is here?" Roman stresses. "We all know Virgil and Logan are the two that would've been at the forefront of Thomas' mind in any occasion that could've brought us here, but neither of them remember anything."
"Wait, what day is it?" Virgil asks suddenly.
Logan frowns, and Patton looks to the Virgil's trembling fingers as they play with his hoodie string. "Wednesday, obviously." the logical trait says easily.
"Really, because it was mid-morning Wednesday, last I remember." Virgil points out.
Roman's eyes go wide as understanding dawns. "And judging by the lights through the window it's early morning again."
"Uh oh." was the only thing anyone could say about it, and of course it was Patton.
"So at some point Wednesday, Thomas' was, what? Kidnapped? Brought here, wherever here is? Remained unconscious for an unknown period of time in which someone managed to find a way to separate the four of us from him?!" Logan questions rapidly with what almost looked like a flash of anger. "Are you even listening to yourselves?" he scoffed, as he clearly calmed a little.
"Kinda hard to not listen when you're being so fucking loud too goddamn early." an unfamiliar voice growled without even the tiniest bit of hesitation after Logan finished.
All four sides stopped, knowing that was none of their voices saying that.
Slowly, all four turned to the only person it could've been.
The young adult was now sitting up, showing that they were wearing a mostly white with black accents t-shirt and shorts. Only thing that wasn't was the tight- probably tight material- blue choker, bracelets, and anklets. (yeah, okay fine it's Seraph VampCamp Uniform I'm sorry for the bad description help.) their red hair falling into their hazel green eyes. With a light dusting of freckles on their cheekbones. They sat up against the wall, but didn't move to actually stand up.
Logan looked inquisitively at the young adult. "Were you talking to me?" he questioned slowly.
Realization dawned in their eyes. "Ah." they sighed. "Welcome to the Asylum."
I apparently forgot this account even existed, so as welcome back to myself here is some mature writing that I hope to GOD Thomas never finds because... yeah I'm not going to be nice to anyone in this series.