Castle Game #2: Mah-jong Solitaire [10/10]

[Deleted]

" attention players :
the second game is about to begin ! "

Hollywood starts the morning off with a boastful symphony, violins and harps shredding the day's wake. The players wake up on the third day to a warm pot of grits and 2 pouches of pepper each, served on a conveyor belt from outside the gymnasium's grand door. For some this is the first meal since waking up in the Castle; of course, not for the VIPs. 

On the other end, Miss Slaughter enjoys a mimosa with the likes of Princeton Nashe, still reeling at the $20,000 bet she had on 002. She'd be pissed if she weren't so impressed - they're playing dirty. It's almost impressive. 

Let's get more of that. 

After the symphony comes the boom of the host's voice, and a brief pause so she can crack up with one of the VIPs on the balcony. She clears her throat before returning to her script-

" attention players :
I will now read the rules of the second game "

---

Players, welcome to your second game: Mahjong! This game will work operate in 4 groups decided upon by the players, with each member of the group competing head-to-head. For this first round, the room will begin in summer as you & your group members choose a mahjong table. Each round will last 60 seconds in character and 3 days out of character. 

Mahjong is a Chinese tile-based game with 144 decorative tiles. For the 2nd Game, we'll be playing the Mahjong Solitaire variant, in which players compete to match tiles. Each round players will have a minute to match with a 1d10 roll determining how many pairs are made. The game will end when a player matches the 72nd pair in their group, or at the 5 minute mark.

For context: The highest scoring players from each group will clear the second game. The lowest scoring player from each group will be eliminated. These groups include:

group a: 004, 005, 006, 011
group b: 003, 010, 013, 017
group c: 008, 009, 016
group d: 001, 007, 015

Advantage (minor) : speed-test! Posting order is determined by posting speed for the 2nd game. 

Play Dirty : players who aren't afraid to play dirty can attempt to steal a match from another player with an additional post. This attempt is done with a 1d20 roll, with 12-18 resulting in 1 stolen match & 19-20 resulting in 2 matches. 

Round 1 of Mahjong will conclude on November 24th, or when all 14 players have posted.

  

[Cait]

I don’t remember falling asleep last night. I’m not convinced my eyes even shut longer than half a second at a time, if the stinging of unshed tears and the fatigue settling in my bones is any indicator. My ears remained pricked up for hours on end as I slouched against a wall, bundled under a thin blanket that couldn’t keep away the cold.

It feels all too soon when the silence of the room is replaced by an orchestral sound that makes my stomach plummet. But I can’t say I’m surprised to find this hasn’t all been some horrible dream gone wrong.

Whenever I try to remember how I ended up in here, I come up blank. A foggy mind and missing memories surround me and then I’m shaking, dry heaving in a corner of the room as the panic starts to set in again, hoping nobody will pay attention to a wide-eyed girl who looks half her age and so incredibly weak.

“Attention players: the second game is about to begin. Please divide yourselves into 4 groups.”

Until, I guess, now.

I’ve never been popular; I’ve never been anything special. Living in a house of twelve kids struggling to get by meant it was easy to fall into the background. The youngest, the most easily forgotten. Another person might resent it, but I grew into that skin, let it define me throughout the years.

Now, forced to make myself approachable – or worse, be the one doing the approaching – I can see the appeal of charisma and confidence. All the things I will never have.

How am I supposed to do this?

I scan the room quietly, and feel my heart drop as half the players are already on the move, shaking hands and forming temporary truces before being led out a door that was shut only moments earlier. My heart races as I look to my left, look to my right, look left again and realise how hopelessly alone I am.

But I can’t be the only one, surely.

And so, I force my heart to steady and sweep my gaze around the room once more, looking for other lost faces trapped within these four white walls.

On the other side of the room are two other players, still without a team. One of them, a young boy, probably one of the smallest, less intimidating players in here. Utterly average, and something like a Marcello from years gone, and I immediately feel myself soften at the memory of something familiar. A few spaces to his left is another smaller figure, with dark hair sticking up unceremoniously and the signs of exhaustion reflected in wide pupils. There’s something comforting in the knowledge that they most likely barely slept last night, too. That we’re all just as terrified as each other.

With more courage than I knew I had, I force myself to walk across the room, trying to find the strength to speak, all the while hoping my voice won’t falter with the weight of this impossible task ahead of me.

“Do you guys want to be partners? There’s, uhh, not many other people left… and mostly everyone else in here scares me.” I swallow hard, watch the retreating backs of numbers 010, 005, 017. It could be worse, definitely.

I hold out a hand tentatively, praying at least one of them will accept it so I don’t have to deal with the reality of rejection. God, how embarrassing that would be. I can feel my cheeks heat up at the very thought, which seems to slowly be becoming a reality as time stretches on and nobody is moving and I’m panicking, wondering if I should have introduced myself by name, or just stayed in my own little corner and let the universe decide my fate for me because I was never the one to make it my own.

I’m spiralling so much that I don’t feel the ghost of fingers twitching beneath my own until I’m being swept off my feet and ushered out of the room – no time to even say thank you to my new teammates, unsure if they even said anything in reply, as the slamming of metal behind me silences me once more.

\\

This new room feels smaller than the first game room, yet altogether bigger at the same time. It probably has something to do with the dwindling number of players, and the inevitability that our group is most likely about to be cut down once again.

Which begs the question: what are we doing now? There are four tables spread out across the room, four chairs neatly spaced out around each one. I move towards the closest table curiously. Small, hand-painted tiles are scattered across the surface in an intricate pattern, and I feel my brow furrow in confusion. A voice overhead briefly explains the rules of this new and foreign game: something about matching tiles, which doesn’t seem so hard after the exertion of yesterday's game.

But then I remember where I am, the brevity of the situation, and feel myself turn cold once again. Because, of course, this isn’t just any ordinary game of matching tiles.

The questions come fast and all at once. Are we playing against each other? Against the other groups? Will I have blood on my hands by the end of the day?

I shudder, then. For as much as I try to pretend that the first game was all staged, I know deep down that four people won’t be returning back to the homes they left behind. The only thing that helps me live with this new-found reality is that I didn’t have a role in their demise. I was too busy looking out for myself, barely making it through the obstacle course from hell. Far too fixated on my own survival to worry about anyone else’s.

I’m not a killer. I never have been. I don’t want to start now.

“I guess I’ll go first?” I murmur quietly, vaguely aware of a clock ticking away somewhere in the back of my head, warning and mocking all at once.

This is just a game, I tell myself, sighing and reaching forward for a pair of matching tiles.

CvKxaL|Qwn“1-10”

“1-10”

[kap]

Toby felt mentally prepared for the second game, but he wasn't sure how physically prepared he would be until they actually found out what it was. He wasn't ready to die yet, though, so no matter what it was, he'd have to do his best at it anyway.

When the second game was explained, Toby was invited to a team by some other players. Then they chose their table, and got started with the game. They had to make matches, and whoever had the least number of matches would lose the game and be eliminated. Toby'd always been good at games that had to do with matching, or really anything that took a bit more brain power, rather than physical challenges, so he had a bit of confidence. He didn't want to be over-confident, though. That usually wasn't a good thing.

He went first, and the clock started.

"Alright, here we go," he said.


SPWkF3_23D1-10

table by Rave

1-10

[charade]

Silk had slept peacefully, though she felt a growing sense of concern. It had been made clear after the end of the first round that those who had been eliminated had been terminated as well. Silk had been more irritated than anything. Such a concept had not been in the contract, and thus, she was going to have to write a strongly worded letter to whoever was managing the show.

Suing them might actually grant her the funds she needed to live a lavish life, and then it would be even easier to attract an influential capitolite to marry. When the second game had been announced, Silk had briefly glanced at everyone and then dragged the nearest two players; that being 008 and 009, and pulled them to a table, ushering them into seats with a fake smile.

"It's a matching game. Should be simple enough to outpace the other teams." A competitive streak was something all of the Ginghams shared, and Silk was looking forward to defeating them.

XplWpYRxCe1-10

1-10

[✨ zozo.]

004, 005, 006.

It made sense, as if it were meant to be. Your eyes darted from the number on your shirt to the numbers on theirs and felt pulled by fate, soft footsteps and a head held high. Whiplash back to Strauss house and always, always being picked last.

Except by Meredith -- but she was just a memory now.

"Want to be team mates?" you had asked. Raised eyebrows, a hand extended and a smile that you hoped looked as genuine as it felt. They obliged, three -- but you needed four. You were sure of it.

You had half a mind to ask 016. She intrigued you, still abrasive as ever, but you were curious. The other half decided that was too risky. She was volatile and - the thought made you laugh - ruthless. So instead your eyes flitted past her blonde head and landed on another, a boy from the first game you recognised.

Five and six equaled eleven. Who knew you were a superstitious thing?

"011!" you had called, ushering him over with a hand. "We need one more."

And there you were - 004, 005, 006, 011. It felt right, solidifying somewhere deep in your soul. That survival instinct that had led you here, for better or for worse, calmed the nervous fluttering in your stomach as you walked to the next room. Clusters of tiles and faux grass - you'd never seen grass this green before. And whatever this game was, you'd never played.

Not that you were going to let your teammates on to that.

K25j7E8had1-10

table by rave !

1-10

[Deleted]

She doesn't sleep. 

Instead, her mind races. First priority that comes to mind is to make a weapon -- she's seen the likes of 013 and 010. There's a bit in the back of her mind that thinks 005 killed the woman from one. Theo never even got her name, the one conversation they had was on the ascent up the castle tower to the first game. 

And so, in the spirit of the game, Theo thinks to protect herself over night. There's 14 of them and $400,000 already racked up, she doesn't trust easy enough to sleep before the second game. She keeps her socks on to soften the sound of her walking through the gym at night, hunting for the closest thing to a screw driver as she can find. The best she comes up with is the silver spoons from earlier, cake too sweet to eat. 

From there it just takes time to screw a pipe from the head of the wire bed frames. Thin enough to hide in her jacket, small enough to make her doubt it'd save her against Murdoch Fenn. 

She keeps it to her chest as she awaits the second game. 

Her eyes sting as the violins play, the lights stuttering on from the front to the back of the gym. The bright florescent burns and for a minute straight all she does is rub her eyes. 007 stuffs the pipe down the back of her shirt, tying her sweat pants as tight as she can once she climbs out of bed and makes her way to the stairs.

---

"Do you want to be partners?"

"Ehh-" Theo winces, struggling to stay awake, struggling with wanting to be here.

"There's, uh, not many other people left... and most everyone else in here scares me."

She had drifted to player 015, mostly by keeping her head down and shuffling the back side of the bright white room. Theo felt feverish, lightheaded trying to anticipate the second game already. Before she had only worried about the money; holy shit has that changed. Child games with her life on her line, and all she can focus on is how pissed she'll be dying to rock, paper, scissors. 

Player 001 has a point, but part of her can't help being skeptical of the first player. What does the order even mean? Theo mulls it over as she glances from the two players, before offering her hand from her pockets with a reassuring, "sure." 

She clears her throat. 

---

"Damn is it bright."

And warm. She scratches her shoulder under her jacket, walking almost with her eyes closed as they make it to the play tables. It's spring in the tower - could this be the same one? The tree sways like it's real, she can't help but squint looking at the bright ceiling of the room. The first player offers to go first and 007 hasn't even tuned into the game yet, listening to nothing but what's in her mind. 

She nods back before admitting, "I don't know the game that well." 

A brain that never stops, she watches as the timer starts for the second game and wonder if this is how she goes out. Just match the tiles; relax. Focus, she tells herself, as she watches player 001 score one pair, and then another. Her eyes dart the corners of the pyramid first, trailing the bottom row trying to think inwards. 

There's some kind of strategy, of course, all she has to do is find it. 

"I think it's like a puzzle," she grabs her first pair, tapping it to her temple as she talks to 001 & 015. 



O6G8O_DJZQ1-10

1-10

[Tom]

002.

The girl who he'd tried to kill had died on her own. A disappointing sight to see her face turn red and fade as the cash flowed through the giant bank above them. She was supposed to die by his hands, nothing more than a plaything to make his time here exciting. A silence fills through him as he doesn't even try to have any of the cake. Time passing by slower than before, he's ready to instill some more chaos. His eyes following each of the other contestants, knowing this was the way the game should have been played. Blood for blood. He'd always stand at top of this.

A king among peasants who dared to stay on his level.

After announcing the second game to come, he can hear the restlessness of everyone else. The smell was like the gunpowder of a gun, fresh and filled with a tension that's unbearable. The excitement in his veins growing as he looks around the place. Groups forming after an announcement of the next game being a team game. He didn't want to work with anyone else. He wanted to be alone, but this wasn't his game. No, this was just apart of the game. A smirk on his lips as three others approached him. 003. 017. 010. The guy who needed to pee. The older one. And the one who seemed boring to him.

After the rules were shown, Leo could see the matches starting to form. The game was simple enough, but the teams were meant to put him against the group. None of them were working together. All of them were kings trying to take the most matches away from the others. A game of ruling and he was going to take them all. It was simple enough, so he quietly decides to go first, not knowing what the others would do.

There would be chances to cause chaos later, but for now, he needed to see where the others stood. Mutiny would mean destruction in this case. "Let's see, I'll do this." Fingers moving as the sound of a bang rings in his ear of the past. Wouldn't it be great to be in charge of this? Leo could taste victory beneath his tongue.




jlotlNTYZD1-10

Table by Rave

1-10

[revel latimer, 11b 🔍 jay]

Teams.

My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. I was never good at making friends, it's why I decided to lay in my bed last night, not getting up to mosey around and get to know anyone else. I wasn't here for them. I wasn't here for anyone other myself. Learning things about them, their memories and feelings and everything that has led up to this moment, all of it would make it harder when they died. It'd all be easier if I thought they had nothing to live for.

Shocker, I was one of the last ones picked.

I watched one by one as people formed into groups, the numbers whittling down until only six of us were left. I was picked up by 006 and 016. I knew their faces from the first game and around the hall, but I'd never spoken a word to either of them. Maybe the would've turned out to have been for the best.

My ears perk up as the rules are read. I slowly digest what the voice of the intercom is saying, and I realize that one of us is going to die. I flick my eyes up to 006 and 016 In this moment, I was happy they were strangers and nothing more than that. I didn't want to feel anything when one of them died, no tugs on my heartstrings or my heart fleeting from my chest. Just quick and easy.

Tick.

The timer for the second game starts.

"It's a matching game. Should be simple enough to outpace the other teams," the blonde-haired girl smiles. Why is she smiling at a time like this? In a few minutes one of us will be dead. A part of me hopes it's her. 016, I'm keeping my eyes on her.

I pick my first pair and look up towards 006 in anticipation. All I need is someone to do worse than me.

TNMRIvnPa21-10

1-10

[ghosty]

He was not used to being better than okay at something. Ma always talked about how he'd get better at threading string through beads, but that hadn't improved, not in the slightest. And yet, he was here, Ripred knows how far from home, he found the one skill he was good at.

Staying alone. He watched as the lights faded into dark, the filaments fading quickly from white to dying-fire orange to nothing. And yet, his eyes stayed locked open, as long as they could, before they followed the same pattern as those filaments. Blinks slowing to seconds to minutes to waking to the announcer shouting over music blaring louder than the mine gas alarms in Twelve. Making a team.

Back to being worse again. Lyle stayed at the back, waited for someone, anyone to be desperate enough to pick the starved boy from Twelve. He didn't feel ashamed but he felt his ears burn brighter than any fire as he ate whatever food they gave them. It was gone before he'd took note of what it was.

It wasn't long before everyone shifted out of chaos into group organised chaos, and Lyle found himself between 007 and 001. Their words for each other were not lost. The last ones left. His hand reached out and grabbed. He would not be alone. He hoped it'd fare as well as he did alone. His eyes didn't miss the person pushed over last game. 

{ -- }

Tables laid out in the room, and they all filtered to separate ones, groups showing allegiances, however uneasy. The two others took no time in getting started. He let out the held breath that lingered that they'd not heard of it either. Ma'd probably ask Lyle to screw through these tiles and make it into a necklace of some kind. Use it to pay for coal when they were desperate. 

007 grabbed pairs faster than he expected. They made it look easy. 

"I've not been good at puzzles," soft laugh pushing past his lips. He was a jeweller, as Ma always said. He wasn't made for thinking. Let his hands lead the way. Lyle couldn't help to wonder as his fingers grazed across the tiles surface. He followed the actions of the other two, and started to match a pair. "How much do you think these were tiles worth?" 

Anything to stop the silence filling the three of them. Still, it was probably more than he and Ma ever had. 

Not that it was hard.

I0UfW06iQe1-10

1-10

[k!ah]

The game needed a team of four, and instantly Eugene looks towards the ex-game maker, deciding that Murdoch Fenn would be working for him. He felt kind of power the sway he held over a well-respected capitulate that had once been held in high regard by the president. Waddling over he gives the older man a look and pouted, "you're with me." A statement, not a question.

He had decided that he would work with Fenn, even though it felt wrong, even though the man was partially responsible for his foolish sister's demise. It felt like a smart move to work with a man who knew how to kill, and who most likely lusted over it. The more the games unfolded he was coming too realise that an ally might be beneficial and secure his chance to win.

Along the way they come across number 003, Eugene leaving Fenn to recruit him as he makes his way towards the kid he had spoken to yesterday, unlike number 013.

The kid joins up as the rules are explained.

It seemed that it wasn't a team we were assembling, but our opponents.

His eyes lock with Fenn's and he gives him a nod before shuffling closer, leaning in his whispers in the older man's ear, "I'll focus on 013, you get 003."

They are directed to take a seat and Eugene puts himself next to Fenn and number 013. "Fella's the game seems simple enough, let's get going and hope that our brains don't get blasted," he chuckles, throwing 013 a wink, "good move handsome, but I think I can do better."

i5uBoSbnkk1-10

1-10

[Python]

If he were in good spirits, he might jokingly refer to their breakfast as 'peasant food'. Grits and peppers were nothing to be excited about, but with the next game approaching and his nausea peaking he couldn't find the energy to complain.

The remaining pawns were escorted into a brightly lit room that reminded him of his childhood: peaceful summer days with smiles and sunflowers. Sorin quickly reminded himself that this was a death trap. Nostalgia wouldn't help him in a competition, nor did it bring much comfort either. Just a fleeting moment of something familiar, and then it was gone.

He perked up when he recognized the game. When his father was alive (and keeping secrets), they had played this game together. Ah, I'm probably rusty. He also wasn't very talkative, having chosen to maintain silence for his own sake. Joining a team would be awkward.

He was slotted into an intimidating group like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. It didn't matter who asked: he was in no position to refuse, so he perched himself at one end of the table and awaited his turn. "Fella's the game seems simple enough, let's get going and hope that our brains don't get blasted." Oh, how Sorin wished he could have such high spirits.

"I used to play this when I was a child," he muttered. It suddenly felt odd to avoid making conversation now.


65vChr0h5G1-10

1-10

[rook]

"You're with me."

It's cute he wants to be in control. Assert dominance like some primate in the jungle, dancing around in a primitive form, puffing out his chest and acting like the big man. Sure, why not? Let him dance, it gives me something to smile about.

I guess Eugene sees the experience I have as invaluable. Maybe it's my sheer strength and size, or my ruthlessness. Perhaps he wants me because I think like a Gamemaker and because I kill like one too. Or maybe he's just running out of options as he's fighting for his life and has to turn to the biggest man left in here to survive.

Does that seem like someone in control?

The rules are explained, and I have to stifle a laugh. The teams we've assembled are the teams we will be playing against. Ain't that just so sweet? In trying to get me on his side, Eugene Riot has ended up in a cage fight with the very person he was trying to avoid.

"I'll focus on 013, you get 003."

I breathe a laugh of disbelief. And he's still trying to hang onto the guise of control?

I watch as he places tiles down, pretending to know how to play. I remain silent, tongue rolling over my lower lip as I assess the board and play my tile.

Ir9vfLtJGI1-10

1-10

[gamemaker kelsier]

He kept to himself last night. Fingers had fallen short on meagre rations and his heart had skipped a beat again. Every time he thinks about 018's fall it's like his whole brain needs to reset. One moment, the other player had been wobbling on the edge of the furniture, the next, they were dead.

Suddenly it all seems very real and all he can think is: What's Ire gonna do when I don't come home?

Because Ochre's only good at some things and then Ire's good at the rest. That's why they do everything together, but she's miles and miles away and he's too shy to make friends without her.

So he kept to himself last night.

And now that's come back to haunt him because as everyone else gets into groups, Ochre's left standing there in the spotlight with nothing to show for it. He leans back against the wall gently, hands in his pockets to hide the way they twist around each other.

Hardly trying, he's hardly even trying right? How's he supposed to just give up like this, at this rate he'll never see his big sister ever again and she won't even know what happened to him.

"011!" 004 yells at him and waves a hand, beckoning him closer, "We need one more."

Ochre doesn't question it, he's too grateful to have somewhere to be to do that and just falls into line beside her. He stays quiet, thinking quietly as they walk to the other room. He knows this game but only because Old Bradley and Marlina used to sit on buckets on the corner near his house and play all evening.

They never let him play too.

Maybe that will be enough.

XyEp9DMFk11-10

1-10

[Deleted]

– group a 11/72
– group b 21/72
– group c 9/72
– group d 14/72


round 2 will run until November 28th!

As the first minute concludes, the room shifts from summer to autumn. 4 minutes remain.

[Cait]

The leaves of summer start to wilt as the air turns cool. The tide changes, and we’re swept away by its rhythm. Murmurs start to sound from the other tablets as the games begin, and 015 speaks slowly, trying to fill in the gaps in the silence of our own corner of the room.

“How much do you think these tiles were?”

“More than I’m worth,” I breathe out darkly. And then, “whoever’s running this has more money than they know what to do with. Did you see that money bank last night?”

I’ve tried not to think about it much until now, but when temptation is quite literally being dangled over your head, you can only hold out for so long. Was that the reason we’d all ended up in here? Try and try again, I still can’t find any answers for how I came to find myself in here, trapped in a game of death. All I know is, it wouldn’t have been for money, and that’s why none of this makes any sense to me. All I’ve ever wanted was to be safe, and it’s been too long since I’ve known that feeling.

Though maybe, when I think about it, wealth and safety are synonymous.

And maybe, maybe this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

It’s not long before 007 and 015 start to follow my lead and pick out their own matches among the tiles on our table. A puzzle, the word is foreign to me. I make an agreeable noise at 015’s statement of incompetency – puzzles have never been my strong suit, either. I catch my lip between my teeth, watching nervously as 007 speeds ahead and makes match after match after match. She’s seeing things that I can’t, patterns lying in the delicately etched lines of the puzzle pieces. I try to follow her eyes as they pass over the board, my fingertips trailing half a step behind hers.

IQYToUIGfE1-10

1-10