Work Text:
“The game was rigged from the start…”
BOOM!
A bright flash and the smell of seared flesh accompanies Rin into a red tinged night, where pain soon joins her. Weird dreams and bits of memory float past, sometimes rapidly, sometimes slowly, all surmounted by a figure in a checkered suit.
At some point, the darkness lifts.
“Woooah, easy now. There's no rush.”
An old American voice enters her ears almost at the same moment as an old American face swims into view. The man steadies her, then sits back, just out of a beam of harsh desert light. From the floor he picks up a mirror, laying it face down on his lap. Rin looks at her legs. She's wearing…something. Some rags of indeterminate colour.
“What's your name? I need to see if you still got all your faculties.” asks her saviour(?)
“Joker.” Rin says, in a voice as dry as the dust blowing by outside.
“Joker? Like a what's it, a stand up comedian? Well, it's not a name I woulda chosen for you but if that’s your name, that’s your name-” the man yaps some more, then shows her her face. It's the same, but drawn and pale, and there's a scar decorating her left temple. A courtesy scar, left by the kiss of a bullet. Once that's done, he helps her to her feet, then takes her over to what looks like a homemade slot machine.
“This here is a Vigor Tester blah blah American spaghetti-”
Rin rolls her stiff shoulders and grips the stick of the machine, imagining it's the ruler of a Palace who needs taking down, or alternatively, her cat.
Strength 10
Perception 10
Endurance 10
Charisma 10
Intelligence 10
Agility 10
Luck 10
Job done, she turns towards the dumbstruck old man and awaits his next test.