week 0 - arrival

[vicedirector]

seven vices arrival ♫ saturday & sunday 36 players remaining You remember happening upon something awful and nauseating. What it was, precisely, is lost to you, but you have the instinctive feeling that by escaping from it, you've avoided something terrible. When you open your eyes, you find yourself laying in bed in a dark, dusty room, facing a digital alarm clock. Its face, reading 12:01, is one of the only sources of light in the room. The other comes from the window, shadows flickering about. Opening the blinds will reveal that it is nighttime, and what looks to be a massive bonfire has been lit in the street at the front of the building. A wooden talisman hangs around your neck, with one of seven symbols carved on the back. Attempting to take off the talisman will result in a wave of intense dread, and the all-too-familiar nausea. A brass key engraved with a unique room number lays on the bedside table beside the clock, as well. But you won't get any answers just sitting in your room all night. >Investigate? This is an open mingle for arrival in the town. Waking up just after midnight on Saturday, characters will have the weekend to explore and socialize before the plot begins. The profiles and IC rulebooks (both the personal ones and the public one at the chapel) have not been revealed/given out yet. The kitchen will still 'prepare' breakfast on these days, and the bonfire will burn continuously into the daytime. Per items: smaller items that a character could easily carry with them will be in their rooms. Animals and larger objects will either be waiting outside or in the hotel lobby. cast setting

Comments

two

[disapproved]

What reason would our kidnappers have for said kidnapping if not for their amusement? They've let us loose in this fabricated environment, surely knowing we seek answers. 'Twould be ironic to leave their manifestos in our bed chests.

[ she's found her chewtoy here, hasn't she. morrigan steps from the hallway boldly, no signs of fear despite her blasé regard for his baton. she does have to sidestep rather fast to avoid the tip of it, however. ]

You'd strike a defenseless lady, I see. I suppose what they say about chivalry holds as true as you do to that.. thing.

[jackhole]

[ you have definitely found your chewtoy, morrigan. rhys just lets out a yelp as he connects with... nothing? and then just sort of blinks and holds the baton to his chest. ]

Okay, first of all. Bed chests? Haha, whaaaat. Lady, whaaaat? And uh, second. I tooootally didn't notice you were a woman. Just a... slightly threatening person coming up behind me? Not that... I wouldn't hit a woman too? If she deserved it? I mean, I'd hit both men and women. I'm free for all on the hitting thing when, uh, when hits are... deserved.

[ . . . ]

Actually, wait. I'm just not going to hit anyone.

[disapproved]

Ah, idiocy always finds a way, does it not? Like vermin.

[ she's going to forego passive aggressive logic and move straight to directly being inflammatory. congratulations, rhys, you've won! ]

How egalitarian of you. [ she looks to the baton once more. she'd never seen a weapon like it. it was — unassuming. ] You may change your mind yet.

[jackhole]

Just met you and you're already calling me vermin, great. Okay, anyway.

[ is this... is this his prize? take it back. please, take it back. ]

You mean, about the... not hitting women thing? Why am I supposed to hit women?! Actually, wait. This is feeling kind of weird. I'm gonna stop talking now.

[disapproved]

For the best, perhaps.

[ she offers know explication for her previous statement. now finally having the opportunity, morrigan peers rhys up and down, finding many things of interest — tattoos on his neck, mismatched eyes, and metal. like, a metal arm. what the hell is that.

she crosses her arms. ]

You may as well give up. Surveying the town has proven fruitless for many. Any further searching would be a waste of precious energy, during a blizzard, with a questionable supply of food.

[jackhole]

[ look, don't judge his choice of limbs. sometimes a guy just wants to have a metal limb! sometimes the guy does! sometimes the guy also wants to have a robot eye! so the guy does! don't you judge him.

you're wearing feathers. ]

A... blizzard, right. Because you know, that's exactly what we needed. [ rhys sort of makes a face then. sn..... ow. snow. ugh. ] Wait. What do you mean "questionable"?

[disapproved]

[ look, the feathers are fashionable and maybe salvaged or something. who knows. what the fuck kind of bird has feathers like that in ferelden anyway.

either way, she's totally judging. ]

Have you yet to explore the kitchens? Breakfast seems to prepare itself, but how long will it last? I suspect not as long as we are to be trapped here. If it is our deaths our beloved captors wish, depriving us of food is an excellent method to have the problem handle itself. Soon, we will be gnawing on the flesh of our companions.

[ there's no way of knowing if the food will run out, and it doesn't seem like it will any time soon, but.. she'd never waste an opportunity to freak someone as lame as rhys out. ]

I can only wish the salt rations will last long enough. You shall a rather meager, unsatisfying meal alone.

[jackhole]

[ your mom has feathers like that.

anyway stop judging him. ]

Ha... ha, right? Soon we'll be making like, face pizzas or something with all the... cannibalizing... going on. You know, I'm taking back this statement. Right now. That's a gross mental image and I don't really need it.

[ he looks a little ill. you tried to make it bad, morrigan, and rhys just MADE IT WORSE. ]

... Hurf.

[ stop talking about eating him!! rhys is definitely on the puke-y side of things now and just covers his mouth with a hand, looking aghast at morrigan. ]