WEEK 2

[umbralant]

WEEK 2

monday

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wednesday

thursday

The first week is over, and two of your number are gone. Everything related to the case has been cleaned up, with nary a knife left at the Main Square nor a trace of the mud shapes that once painted the clock tower walls, although some stray graffiti still dots some storefronts.

However you may feel about the entire debacle on Friday, there’s no doubt that something has changed about the atmosphere, although whether it’s something tangible or just a trick of the mind is hard to say. Maybe it’s nothing. Either way, there are more palpable changes to the city, with some of the fog retreating away from a few of the surrounding areas, uncovering new buildings and streets along the way. The night, however, remains unchanged as always save for the slow waxing of the moon, leaving it bright and full as early as Thursday night. Regardless of if you take it as an omen or not, at least that means the streets will be lit up fairly well for the week, provided some inconvenient cloud cover doesn’t slide right in.

[[Welcome to Week 2! Note that new areas have been added, and can be found under the Week 2 tab on our Locations page. Once again, feel free to make top levels at your discretion, and remember to note it in your header if you plan on investigating any locations. You can also privately contact The Lady or Rembrandt.]]

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Comments

[p_q]

... Survivors, then.

[That's apparently his only contribution to this; he hardly blinked at the somewhat grisly photographs and merely stared at Ango like he might start budding fruit from his head or perhaps his glasses, but all the same.

He doesn't seem entirely displeased.]

Did they ask too, I wonder.

[bawcock]

They must've, it's the only thing that makes sense.

[ Dammit, this was such a dirty trick. ]

[p_q]

They asked knowing her tricks. Like the others, they walked toward their own demise.

[Dirty tricks are the tricks of the all the trades he currently knows or would use.

He simply shrugs, a brief and fluid motion.]

[bawcock]

I can't say I like the way you put it, but you're not exactly wrong here.

[ And no matter how true it is, it's still crappy. ]

[p_q]

The way I put it changes nothing. We are all here to be sacrifices, lab rats, playthings. That is the playing field.

[Said just as dispassionately as he just accused the dead of being responsible for their own unfortunate ends. The only hint that he's not as neutral as he seems is a brief spark in his eye.

As used as he is to entirely separate levels and dimensions of bullshit, he does have his pride, still.]

[bawcock]

[ Hmm... He can't say he knows what that spark is supposed to mean. Overall, this guy is hard to read even if he is incredibly blunt.

Maybe he'll let this slide for now. ]

If nothing else, you're right about that last bit. There's no way any of us are here for anything else.

[p_q]

[Whacking you over the head with his aura of complete mystery, that's his specialty, of course.]

No. And yet there are those with greater delusions than I thought possible. They think they have the ability to impose their will, or to simply walk in and play without consequence. Foolish.

[bawcock]

I think I know who you mean.

[ Scratch that, he's super sure. They are not subtle, sry. ]

But when it comes to guys like that, they're just blowing hot air. Acting like they're in control is the only way they can keep their composure.

[notbymyside]

Survivors...

[90% rate...wait...]

You don't think she means that we're the 'survivors' of her experiments, do you?

[galrarm]

[ Well!!!

SURE DON'T LIKE THAT. ]

... It's beginning to look that way, isn't it.

[notbymyside]

There were what, 27 of us at the start? And if 90% die, that means they had nearly 300 people here to begin with?

[MMMMNOPE HE DOESN'T LIKE IT]

[drydrown]

There's a book of some sort. The Lady has it. It contains a list of names, from what I understand, of people I assume she has notes on. I asked her if she was familiar with a man from my world and she looked in there and said she wasn't. She said he lacked something she was looking for.

It's a rather thick book.

[notbymyside]

...

[...]

Information-processing is my job back in my world. If we can get that book, I can make sense of it all.

[drydrown]

As long as you're not asking me to try to get it...

Best of luck getting that woman to give any of us anything.

[notbymyside]

I think it would be best for me not to ask either. Someone who is on good terms with her would be the best one for that.

[raventhaw]

...I guess now is a better time to share this than any.

I investigated the tram station a few days ago. There, I found some scratched up armrests; one of them had the word G-L-O-D-N-Y. It means "hungry". There were also others with dried blood on it.

That may have came from the people who were here before.

[pr159]

Well, that certainly sounds like something out of a bad horror movie.

[ ...tbh he does find it vaguely unnerving, but he's not going to say so. ]

[notbymyside]

You think it was caused by the blue lights I saw, perhaps?

[If they're all that's left in this town, they had to be what made that, right?]

[raventhaw]

That was my theory. It's hard to say for sure, but it seems likely.

[notbymyside]

Those lights might be the people who used to be here, then.

[p_q]

[Well, now that they’ve confirmed that part...]

Hmph. Are you really surprised, given what we’ve seen here now?

[notbymyside]

I'm not, no. I just thought 'survivors' may have meant something else.

So then, those kids are...

[He trails off there, lost in a rather troubling memory.]

[p_q]

[...]

[Once again Ango proves himself to be 50 at heart by wandering down memory lane in the middle of a perfectly good(??) conversation. Not even the immortals hit the maudlin notes the way you do, dude.]

There are many easy answers in this city. Is there a point to your thoughts?

[notbymyside]

...I suppose not, no. If they're dead, then they're dead. There's not much use in worrying about them anymore.

[p_q]

A surprisingly rational point of view. For a human faced with death.

[And perhaps not as rare here as one would think; it's not hard to see what sort of people have gathered here.

So it's not precisely a compliment, but it isn't entirely anything else, either.]