» the city network

'kay, so........ i COULD have bothered with getting a nice setup to gather you guys because that seems to be the thing people do whenever stuff like this crops up but

✨⭐ i don't feel like it. ⭐✨

so say hi to the eyes watching. blow them a kiss while you're at it. we know they're there regardless.

but anyway, BECAUSE i promised to better communicate stuff, i found this thing and thought that maybe the people smarter than me would want to see it.

[ FILE ATTACHED ]

i dunno. chat amongst yourselves i guess. i'm kinda curious to see what you all think since now i just have even more questions. like here, i'll start:

Hey, everyone. I hope you're all doing alright, despite.. you know, the circumstances. [ The Circumstances™. You all know. Daniel hopes he doesn't have to explain.

Daniel himself looks a little more tired too as he says it. Not concerningly so, and he's definitely trying to cover it up with a smile, but the guy definitely doesn't look unaffected by all the recent revelations. ] Just know I'm always here to lend a listening ear to whoever needs it, so.. just let me know if anyone needs someone to talk to.

Ah, though that isn't the main reason I'm speaking on here. I actually had two things I wanted to make sure everyone knew about. First of all, we have a document at the Welcome Diner with information on everything that's happened in this place so far while we've been here. The problem is that neither of us got involved in what was going on last month. [ Sorry, guys, Daniel isn't about to run into any new suspicious place!! This is for people who did go to the convention center.. ] So I'd be really grateful if anyone could tell what was going on back there. And for anyone who is relatively new or curious, please feel free to come over to the diner to check it all out. It's near the train station everyone shows up at, if you haven't been there before.

Secondly, and perhaps even more importantly.. I'm sure most of you have heard about the tests a group of people are doing on some of the buildings around here. [ There's something in Daniel's face, almost a wince, and then he Gestures. Intensely. ] I want you to know I don't necessarily condone this, but.. [ Another vague gesture. You know. Can't stop these crazy kids, even when you're worried about the plan.. ] So please be careful if you get involved in it. Realise what the possible consequences for yourself could be, especially in a dangerous place like this.

Anyway, since I figured we have to make sure to look out a little bit more for safety, I'd like to ask people who use certain empty buildings or have an important spot somewhere in an empty building to please speak up about it, so that group of people can know to make sure to avoid those spots during their testing.

[ .. He exhales. It's a deep breath, maybe looking even a touch more tired now. ]

I think that's all of it. Everyone, just.. take care, alright?

( ooc: for anyone who would have gone to the diner to check out the document at the diner, you can find it here! )

[When the broadcast starts, Loki is sitting at the small table in his kitchen area with two ornate daggers lying on the table in front of him. ]

A question for you all. Have any of you suddenly woken one day to find an object of yours from your home world that you did not previously have had mysteriously appeared? Even if said objects were weapons?

[ let those wounds heal and come clean--to everyone, angela had told her.

well. the wounds won't heal for some time, as many as there are, but she fears they never will 'til she does the latter. but it's hard, it's difficult, and there are many more who have not even thought about it... such a possibility is ever in the back of one's mind, of disappearing as althea had done, as gregor and roland and gebura, as the young ken amada and so many more--

but no one really stops to think about it until it happens. their population has dwindled, month by month, without a word.



the background is colorful and a myriad of various crafts, not her own room at home (home, what a funny concept it is to call such here, and yet--) but at the host club of which she works. don quixote is not here to advertise her space nor is she here to show off some new craft, and everything from the oversized sweater she wears to the attempt at a bright smile despite the darkness under her eyes speaks to those even who may have met her once that something isn't quite right today. she's always a cheerful, upbeat girl to any she meets, any she passes or knows,

just not today. ]

Ahem! Kehm. Good day to thee all, new faces and old. I am Don Quixote, holder of several positions and jobs both here and in the world I hail from; it is alright if we have yet to meet, but prithee do not retire just yet! I have something I wish to speak to thee about... something that is quite important, and shall perhaps change the way thy time here is spent.

[ ... huuuuf. okay. ]

Some months ago, perhaps four hence, I found myself upon the train as if I had died -- and I can assure thee, as one who has died purposefully before, it was the same but different. With my return, I found I had gained many new memories and experiences... as if I had gone back to my world and lived it, from the very moment I had left. Those who were here still appeared and acted as they ought there, without a word about this city, this world, and... in truth--

I did not recall this city whatsoever when I was gone from it and remembered my time only once I had returned.

[ shot out, without a pause save the stumble before, and don holds the gaze of her device a moment before exhaling. ]

To those whom I lied to, I am sorry. It was not my intention to hurt thee, nor to give false hope unduly, but I did not want any to think their time here meaningless simply because one does not remember it. I am certain there must be a way that we may-- we may keep them, or to leave our mark upon the world in hopes of jogging our memories should we find ourselves in the same circumstance, just as others have left theirs with pictures, with scratches in tables and walls, and-- and so on! But... I do not know, so I only wished to be honest and frank. For it is only once we are armed with knowledge that may we be able to solve a problem, or so I am told.

[ ... and she wanted to come clean, too. for herself. it's a lot easier like this than doing it one on one, she finds, not having to worry about the other's reaction so soon, though she shrinks a little all the same. ]

I am not the only one who has experienced this coming and going, that I know for certain, but I understand if it may sound unbelievable, or that one may wish to deny it. Do what comforts thee best, but know that what I say is true -- and allow this space to be one in which we may exchange ideas to ensure that these memories of ours last beyond our time spent here.

[ and,

as tempting as it is just to close off completely and throw herself back into her work without further replies, she'll still very much be around. for better or worse. ]

( kromer, famously, almost never uses the video function—it's a taboo in n corp to take pictures, record film, things like that, and she's spent enough time there that it feels almost criminal to do so. she does it only for very specific reasons: to make sure people know she's not paying attention to them, or...

well, today it's because she's making cookies! welcome to Cooking with Kromer. the kitchen is well-lit, her ingredients are out, everything in its place... )

Good afternoon, City folk. For those who know me, how're we doing? For those who don't, I'm Kromer. Pleasure.

( ...haha. )

Anyway, first you're gonna wanna make sure your butter's nice and soft... Room temperature's best, but you just don't want it cold. It won't cream as well that way! Now... ( she doesn't want her voice drowned out by a fucking MIXER so she's creaming it the old fashioned way, thanks— ) I didn't start this up just to show off my baking skills. Actually, I had some pretty important stuff to say!

( add vanilla and the powdered sugar... work that in... )

So recently... You could say I've been causing a little bit of trouble. Sort of testing the waters, seeing how much you could actually pull here before whoever's in charge of our iteration got tired of it.

( once that's come together, flour... )

I found it, and let me tell you... You don't really wanna cross that threshold. They'll kidnap you to some crummy facility—by the way, totally empty. Looked kind of like a hospital, but all the rooms were locked... You know how it goes with locked doors around here, right? I wasn't gonna try 'em—anyway, they had some of those rooms I woke up in, they had some sleep monitoring ones, things like that.

( dump out the dough onto a floured surface. shape it into a rectangle, and wrap it in plastic. kromer smacks it a few times with her hand, looking pleased. )

I'm not really keen on talking about what went on, but I can say... Did anyone else read those papers about Pavlov or whatever? They're using that guy's thing with the dogs.

( ................

she retrieves some already made dough from her fridge. she is deadset on her fucking cookie-making right now. )

Just wanted to let everyone know not to cause too much trouble, alright? Let's really get along, make friends, and do our best to make a community we can alllll be proud of.

( she doesn't sound all that enthused, though. )

Oh, and if anyone has any shortbread shape ideas... I'll take 'em. Nothing childish, okay? I'm not making a bunch of dicks.

( no video this time... or audio, but you can practically hear the grumble and whine of her complaints anyway if you've met her even the once. )

who keeps taking all the PEACHES
i haven't found ONE in six stores and its raining and its cold and i just wanted some peaches and if i fall on my tail one more time i'm taking all of the kiwi and lychee from the next market i see and going home

also if anyone knows where honeybun is please tell him his mother is very disappointed in him
he'll know why

[It's been a long time since this username has been seen on the network. Shinjiro's rarely one for idle chitchat, but he does pay attention. He was at the diner the day that iteration debrief went around, and he's been quietly stewing in it since.]

so if all this shit is really a simulation, what's it supposed to mean when people disappear from here, anyway
if they could just delete us they wouldn't need to make us kill each other to end a round, would they

[Or maybe they're simply that twisted? He doesn't know. But Amada's gone, and until this latest development he would've thought that was for the best -- but now he's not so sure. It's been bothering him, despite himself.]

dunno if these are even our real bodies or if is this some matrix shit
or even if those documents were planted for us to find or any of it's true

[Daan's voice sounds both irritated and cold.]

An item of mine is missing, and I need it back in my hands. So if you have seen it, inform me as soon as you are able.

It is a ghastly looking book that is leatherbound. The outside doesn't have any manner of labels on it, but it is a tome that was penned by someone from my world named Enki.

Whoever took this and can hear me, know that I will look the other away if you return it immediately. I shouldn't have to educate someone that there's no point in stealing from each other while we're all stuck in this place.

( the video opens with aerith herself, tucked into an old arm chair; it looks like it could be in any of the apartments, but that's unlikely, given the bookshelves behind her, which appear to be more like the ones in the media store. still--she could be in any of the city's various cafes, it's hard to say.

case in point - there's a large book open, spread across her lap, though the words are hard to decipher from the video's resolution, and there's no hint of the title. )

Okay! ( bright and warm, as she leans forward, hands spread over the pages of the book. ) Today's story is a choose-your-own adventure, are you ready?

Ahem, ahem. ( her voice rises and falls in pitch, all full of dramatics. ) To start: you find yourself in a large clearing, full of green grass and well-tilled land. You can't remember how you arrived in this place, but even so...! You feel as though your hands must seek the dirt beneath your feet, as though you must start digging holes, holes for seeds, seeds which... Well.

( her fingers turn the page--and she lifts up a little packet from within the book, not unlike the ones from the cursed tea party, but this one clearly labeled with both pictures and text. some sort of root vegetable. bright orange. )

You find right there, at your fingertips. Now, the question is - out of all these seeds you find, what would you want to grow, and what would you never want to see in a garden, or worse, on your dinner plate?

--Okay, maybe this is less a choose-your-own-adventure and more a terrible marketing tactic. ( dropping the packet of seeds into the book, she pushes both sides of it closed with a snap--and a laugh. ) But I'm wondering what kind of fruits and vegetables are worth growing in my garden. I don't know that I trust the food here, so I want to start growing more things just in case, and...

Everyone has different tastes! So tell me a little bit about the food you like, or even flowers, and maybe I can make a special delivery in...you know, a few months once everything's growing. That's all from Gainsborough Greenery! ( she leans forward with a little wave, before her hand takes over the screen of her phone to cut the video. )

( There is exposition here. )

[ Kaveh is definitely taking the phone at this point, but later on, Midnight will retrieve it and add a postscript. He is sitting in some sort of underground greenhouse this time, surrounded by mist, glass, flowers, and the glow of sun-tinted halogen lights. Regardless of the promo quality, the greenhouse itself is certainly an impressive feat of engineering. ]

Yes, this is one of several themed rooms here at Seventh Hell. You — yes, you — are personally invited to see it. When? Well, whenever you like, so long as the doors are open, but on the 31st of this month... Ahem.

[ He clears his throat, grins. ]

For the turn of the year, you are cordially invited to Seventh Hell's Grand Opening and New Year's Eve joint celebration. Or something like that, I'll come up with a grander name if necessary. There will be drinks, music, a tour of the premises, games, untold bliss, fantasies, beautiful women, beautiful men, myself among them, possibly fireworks if Kaveh can be convinced that I won't set the place ablaze... You won't want to miss out, I promise.

The doors will open at 6 pm, but come by anytime before then, from now until the New Year, if you'd like to enjoy the premises in relative solitude. Send a message to this account if you'd like to be assured of a bartender, or a friendly face to speak to. If I can't come personally, a host or hostess will be there, ready to welcome you to a night of merriment and pleasant conversation.

So, until then... Seventh Hell awaits you.

[ A wink, and the feed shuts off. ]

[ ooc: Along with normal network replies, current host club employees and staff are welcome and encouraged to reply to this post as though Midnight's included them in an impromptu promotion for the club! You can also use this post for post-promo, off camera conversations with him or anyone else in the host club. Go stupid, go wild, go crazy, threadjack, steal his phone and flush it down a toilet. Honestly, the sky is the limit. ]

well well
i admit after all the other ways this place has seen fit to censor its wares, i didn't have particularly high hopes for this "media store" archive
but i suppose i ought to have balanced that with how it likes to taunt us with the familiar even more

whoever would have thought a copy of "heavensward" would find its way to these very shelves?
i'm sure the count de fortemps would be delighted to know his memoirs are so popular
and the songs of that wandering minstrel, as well
"requiem for a hero" isn't one i'm exactly partial to but i can't deny its popularity

i rather wonder if i ought to write out my own account of the goings-on from back home while i'm here
far from the watchful eyes of the forum and their cover-ups

not that the skies turned to fire, the seas to blood, and the transformation of unsuspecting innocents into craven blasphemies is my idea of an entertaining read, mind

but neither was the dragonsong war i suppose and yet here it sits
a bestseller for the ages regardless

[ you know her. you don't know her. you will know her, soon enough.

miss don quixote, brightly beaming, is not alone today. she has with her... three young men sat with various levels of comfort on a couch, all dressed in somewhat matching holiday sweaters.

only somewhat. herself? a normal cozy cream-colored one with cat paws trailing from one shoulder down. normal. she loves her friends, promise. ]

Salutations!!! Prithee, turn thy gaze, open thine ears, and pay mind to what this Don Quixote has to say! For two more of my coworkers hath arrived, and thus the Limbus Company is four strong!!! In addition to our stern boss, of course!!! I shall presently introduce the three here with some questions I have thus prepared.

[ let her... here is here notebook, dolled up with stickers. aHem. ]

From left to right, as well as answering order [ , hello? one of them has an issue with that-- ] is Emil Sinclair, Yi Sang, and Hong Lu. Young Sinclair is one who shall be more familiar to others by face or mention, as we arrived together so long ago... but they are all precious companions of mine.

Let us begin! What is thy favorite color?

[ okay. okay! this is easier than the first company introduction he did, for various reasons. not that he still isn't obviously a mild kind of timid about the whole thing, even as he attempts to. you know, not let that show. look, He's Trying. ]

Favorite... I don't think about it much, but. Blue. Green, maybe? Or... No, blue and green.

[ should he add more? reasoning? or pick ONE? ]

They're both calming. Like thinking about a sunny day. [ nodding, before he- looks around. help. ] Um. Do I need to say more than that?

[ he's nailing this? why didn't he go last so he could get an "average response length" reference? ]

[ because you have to go first and get over yourself, sinclair, lead the way as the senior to these two newbies-- ]

Nay, that is quite alright! I think thy reasoning is sound enough, Young Sinclair.

[ That's... not really something he's thought about. He'd all but forgotten what colors existed outside of sepia. There'd been no such thing as a "favorite color" in T Corp.'s domain, not when T. Corp. ensured everything was the same color within its borders.

But T Corp. is behind him, and his now properly-functioning photoreceptors allow him to contemplate answers other than that muted sepia. It doesn't quite solve the fact that he's not used to having things like favorites or preferences, but he'd like to offer a proper response.

He wracks his brain, sorting through every single color he can recall until --

Ah. Of course. That would have to be his answer. ]

Yellow.

[ ...no, that's not quite right. The word doesn't fully capture the exact shade he's visualizing.

He thinks of the spicebush flowers, efflorescing from ideal soil. He thinks of the way their soft petals catch the spring sunlight, glowing radiant underneath the rays. He thinks of the way they burst into season, blanketing the hills in gold.

Yi Sang prepares to repeat those thoughts, but instead of voicing them, he stops. ...perhaps it is best to leave it there. The color of those flowers -- it's something for him to remember, for him to hold close.

So he nods, deciding that one word is sufficient after all. ]

...yellow. That would be my ideal color.

Hello~ My name's Hong Lu. I hope we can get along well together.

[ the carefree flicker of a little wave of hong lu's hand, ]

I really like the colour of Don's sweater~ If I had to describe it, it's the colour of putting your face into the fur of a cat, but only if the cat doesn't run away.

Charming, are they not?! Now, thy favorite foods!

[ this is the part where he could lie and say he's not picky, but he is, even if it's less so now. there's a moment of thought, and then a rather sure: ]

Sauerbraten.

[ ... ]

It's not really about the taste... Not that it isn't good. But it's more about the memories, which is probably for the best... I remember it taking a while, so I don't think I could make it now, even if I wanted to.

[ He's never been particularly picky with food. Residents of the Backstreets were accustomed to eating whatever they could get their hands on. Yi Sang is no different. He's perfectly content to snack on anything that's edible.

Perhaps the question should be approached from a different angle. There's no need to limit himself to foods that aren't downright offensive to his taste buds.

It would take far too long to sort through that list.

Instead, a memory rises and breaks the surface tension within his head:

Three children sit in a field, one of them clutching a woven basket. It holds a few round items wrapped in cloth. She takes one in each hand, offering them to both boys at her sides. "Here," she says. "I got these for us. Don't tell anyone though. I'm only giving them to both of you because you're my favorites out of everyone."

Her companions take their respective offerings. Whatever it is, it's warm to the touch. The boy with glasses picks at the cloth, unwrapping it with care in his lap. The other, quieter boy does the same until the hidden item is revealed.

"Baked potatoes? You got this excited over baked potatoes?" the boy with glasses laughs.

The girl sitting between them scowls and goes a bit red in the face. "Just shut up and eat it, okay? Do you know how expensive these were?"

The third child simply observes, clutching his cooling potato. The other boy and the girl will stop bickering soon enough. Despite the argument unfolding before him, he smiles because he knows they'll laugh it all off eventually and enjoy their snack together.

Yes, that's how things had always resolved. It had been so easy then.

Yi Sang blinks. ]

...could you repeat your question?

[ oh, he seems a tad distracted. don tilts her head, but smiles brightly and nods. ]

Most certainly!!! Thy favorite food, Yi Sang!

[ Oh. Yes, that's right.

He glances down at his palm. It's empty, but there's a warmth lingering within it. ]

My favorite food?

[ Would they taste the same as the ones back then? ]

A potato cooked over an open flame; such is my answer. ...I shall have to procure some, enough to share with everyone else.

Mm, if I had to pick a favourite food... A cup of tea is a must after a greasy meal, right?

[ hong lu beams. ]

I was thinking that I didn't recognise any of the teas here. I wonder how long they're aged for, or if they're hand-picked. I prefer tea that's at least three hundred years old myself. That reminds me, is water supposed to burn? It really hurt this morning when the water in my pot exploded. Who knew that water could fight back? Eheh.

Have thee any dreams for the future? Be it in the near future or farther off, do tell!

Mm...

[ he hasn't- thought about any short term ones, honestly. at least not any he- wants to voice aloud. long term is- nda. just, nda. ]

Is a goal okay...?

[ wait. considering what he wants to answer with, that's- not a great lead up. he straightens up. ]

I-I'll answer with it anyway. I want to be a more confident, more certain person. I don't think I could've answered questions like this before, so maybe I'm doing a little better already.

[ he continues to really nail this. ]

[ There was a time when he could confidently respond with, "None." Things like "hopes" and "dreams" were for those capable of visualizing a future. But to say that he continued to lack any aspirations doesn't feel quite right anymore.

Yi Sang finds himself grasping for an answer. The options materialize in reflective shards, different choices displayed upon each one's surfaces. Perhaps those dreams had existed all along, and he simply hadn't possessed the desire to look closely enough at any of them.

He sifts through all the possible responses. He doesn't think any of them are particularly grand, and many of them are blurry, as though despite clearly existing they had yet to take proper shape.

Eventually, he finds there is an answer he can latch onto. ]

I think... I should like to build a stable one day.

[ He's never done it before, and it's been awhile since he'd designed anything that resembled a building. On the other hand, that doesn't mean it can't be done. ]

It would not need to be particularly elaborate. So long as it is a comfortable home for one calf, that would be ideal. I would ensure its access to plenty of hay and clover for it to graze at its leisure.

[ Yi Sang pauses, visualizing the stable and allowing the fragment to sharpen into better focus. What else should it contain to ensure its future resident's happiness? None of his current expertise touched on veterinary care. Surely, there would be someone who could assist him?

After all, it takes a village of at least three to care for a calf properly. ]

To have a fun time, right? I don't think that far into the future, though~

[ hong lu's head tilts must in the way of a thoughtful cat, ]

Yi Sang, by the way, what does it mean if you dream about a shark in a coffin? Do you think that's a lucky symbol?

[ Yi Sang makes a thoughtful sound and crosses his arms over his chest. Others might have dismissed Hong Lu's question as absurd musings, but Yi Sang's always taken Hong Lu's inquiries seriously.

Yi Sang always takes everyone's questions seriously. ]

A coffin is closely associated with death. But that "death" does not necessarily mean a demise. It may symbolize a change, a new path revealing itself to the dreamer. For instance, Hong Lu, you may recall how it is said that the ashes of a fallen phoenix will form a nest for its reborn self's egg.

[ The coffin is the easy part. A pensive frown settles on his face. ]

Within this dream, does the shark yet live? Has it ceased in its struggles to breathe, transplanted from the sea to the land? Perhaps the dreamer has imagined a shark with lungs, molding the creature within their thoughts to avoid inflicting unnecessary cruelty upon it. And thus, it is left to the dreamer to determine the shark's purpose. An ill omen of challenges ahead, perhaps, due to a shark's reputation as a formidable foe. Yet others would perceive the creature as a protector of the sea, prepared to defend the dreamer with all its might.

[ Hong Lu, however, has asked what a combination of those two items might mean. Another thoughtful sound escapes from Yi Sang. ]

Indeed, such a dream may be a lucky symbol. It is within the realm of possibilities. Yet, it is equally as likely that one may interpret the shark within the coffin as a harbinger of misfortune.

[ ...did that answer the question? ]

Now, a slightly more difficult one: If thee had the choice to live blissfully unaware of a fact that had the chance to detract from thy current happiness as much as it could increase it, would thee remain purposefully unaware or confront it?

... Why is this so different from the other ones?

[ can he ask that? he's asking. forget nailing anything, the look he gives here makes it absolutely clear he's wondering why these questions are escalating so quickly.

but he presses his lips together, swallows back his urge to sigh, and answers anyway. certain and true: ]

Confront. I would confront it. I don't want to live in ignorance, and look away from what scares me. I think... even if I was a little less happy in the end, knowing that I walked without running away would make me feel more... [ how could he describe it... ] More.

[ he's not sure how to explain it without thinking on it, ruminating, but no one's going to sit here and wait for emil sinclair to go through ten anxious paragraphs. he'll leave it at that. ]

[ This is quite a different question compared to the earlier ones.

Because it's quite different, it's much easier to answer. ]

Whether that fact would bring me additional happiness, or whether it would saddle me with new sorrows -- I... do not believe those outcomes affect my answer to that hypothetical. Favorable or not, I would confront it.

[ It's not a matter of being blissfully oblivious or bold enough to wager more out of one's life. No, it's much more straightforward than that. Hadn't he promised himself he wouldn't close his eyes anymore or turn from the world around him? ]

...I simply wish to live with my eyes open now. That is all.

[ Even if that information introduces harm, it is best to confront it in earnest. And if that information proves to be distressing, well, that's what one's companions are for, isn't it? If the weight of that information is too much to bear, and if holding it with his own hands risks shattering them into pieces, surely someone will reach out to support that weight? And if not, surely there will be someone to assist in plucking the broken pieces off the floor, to help with reassembling the fragments of himself?

Perhaps in the past, those musings would remain as questions. Nowadays, the question marks are replaced with periods. ]

Hmm...

[ hong lu hums; the cyan of his one blue eye glimmers. he says: ]

Does it matter, though? Life will always go on, even if what you're doing right now doesn't work out, so as long as you remember that, you'll be free of worries. So it doesn't matter if I know about it or not, I'll always be okay~

[ hong lu's neck cranes over, ]

Ah, Don, is this what they call 'food for thought'? Is this what commoners do to fill their stomachs when there isn't enough to eat?

And it works wonders, truly! One cannot feel hunger if they are debating the very fundamentals of life, and putting to thought their companion's answers. It has staved off the pangs quite well in my experience.

[ what good answers she certainly expected from her companions, two of whom have faced themselves and one who has not. of course, don... wouldn't turn from something either, depending on what it is, but we haven't the time to unpack that right now. ]

Don't look so nervous, Young Sinclair! Lastly, thy favorite hobbies!

[ was he TENSING slightly before the question came out thinking it would be something increasingly unhinged like WORST REGRET or THE TROLLEY PROBLEM or- yes. but the question comes out, and he visibly relaxes. ]

Thank goodness.

[ oh. did he say that out loud? ]

I mean... R-reading and drawing. I've gotten to writing, here, and that helps me sort out my thoughts... I think I just like doing quieter activities that help me think, or relax. But I wouldn't mind trying other things I haven't done too.

[ There are a few activities he enjoys in his spare time. Namely -- ]

Observing Sinclair and Don Quixote's chess games. They are... rather spirited when competing against one another. It is good to see them engaged in an activity.

[ Some might disagree that spectating his colleagues' chess games counts as a hobby, but it counts to him. Yi Sang enjoys watching both of them mapping out their moves, and he also finds himself feeling like a secret third participant. They do not know that he is not merely observing, but in fact, predicting what each of his colleagues' next moves might be.

Sinclair's strategies are easier to discern not because they are simple, but because they are proper. There's a certain elegance to his decision-making, even if he is slower to move compared to Don Quixote. Each choice is deliberate, seeking to corner Don's king before ruthlessly pursuing checkmate.

Don Quixote's moves are more challenging for Yi Sang to anticipate. In each of Sinclair's moves, there is always a sensible means for her to respond. But instead of selecting one of those options, she continuously surprises Yi Sang by choosing something completely different.

...there are, however, times when observing those games inflicts agony to the point where it stops being a fun hobby.

It's during those moments he finds himself hovering over Don Quixote's shoulder, gently offering her pointers after she's lost more than half of her pieces to Sinclair. And despite trying to be discreet about it, Sinclair catches him whispering to her every single time. It's a game within a game.

He probably shouldn't be helping Don in those moments. But the longer the game goes on, the more time he gets to spend witnessing his colleagues' moment of camaraderie. Allowing Sinclair to claim victory too swiftly means less time spent observing them having fun.

Maybe he'll ask to join in next time, requesting a match against the winner of their future game.

...which will probably be Sinclair. Yes. Definitely Sinclair. ]

I like seeing new sights, and doing new things. Can you have a hobby that's always changing?

[ hong lu folds his hands behind him, prim, much as if a child on a field trip; ]

Regardless, I hope to meet everyone here, and have lots of fun~

[ don turns the video back to herself and beams. ]

And that shall do for proper introductions! I ask that thee treat them as well as one may myself, and get to know each on thine own time as well as now as I have them held agai... kehm, that is, with their permissions for the evening.

[ and that'll do for that lengthy segment! off it goes, boys are freed, she is freed, now she just has to wait for all the friendship applications to roll in.

... did she not mention that's what this was for? oh well. ]

[ ooc: responses will come from everyone!!! this is all just for a bit of fun, go wild with it; click the questions for responses! ]

[ For a good while, all anyone's going to see is the cityscape of the second district. There's clear movement as the scene seems to move and shake with what seems to be the sounds of footsteps in the background. ]

Hello? Hi, my name is—oh no, the video is on backward, uh—

[ There is a small pause, and after much tinkering, the feed switches over to the front camera. Crisis adverted? On the screen is a teenage girl, looking barely legal with a strange hairstyle. She has on a pretty friendly smile, with all things considered, and doesn't seem entirely too distraught. ]

—there we go! Hello again, sorry for the trouble! My name is Usagi Tsukino and I'm new to the city. So far, I've found a place to live, I think, and I'm just trying to familiarize myself with the place so it's easier to navigate.

[ She looks pensive for a moment. ]

Or perhaps more information on the place? How do things work around here? Anything is fine. [ She pauses for a moment. ] Oh, maybe a place to get food? I haven't seen anywhere that resembles a restaurant where I am, but I'm not entirely sure.

Sorry for all the questions, and thank you for your time!

[ The video feed switches off, but it seems like she somehow didn't close the voice transmission along with the video. ]

Okay...where am I, ooooh, I could really go for a large banana split sundae right about now...where does a girl get some ice cream around here?

...wait, didn't I walk past that place earlier? Huh? Why is this still on? Oh no.....!

[ And the voice transmission cuts off here. ]

[ The video starts focused on an empty seat in some random non-descript fast food restaurant. It's abruptly swept in blue as the sender crosses the front of the camera to sit down in an obvious harrumph of displeasure. One leg over the other, a young, beautiful man with a wide brimmed hat looks at the camera with irritation written all over his face as he waves a box of crackers in front of him. ]

Disgusting. You call the stuff this city offers food?

[ He tosses the box aside, and shifts forward to pick up his phone. The view blurs a bit, before it steadies onto a table full of a variety of food. There are nine dishes in total: tahchin, fatteh, murtabak, ratatouille, chazuke, roujiamo, stirfried vegetables, choumeiji sakura mochi, and even opera cake. It's a wide variety of dishes from various regions—a veritable banquet, and each of them have been plated carefully to be presented in the most appealing way possible. Whoever cooked them clearly cared for every aspect of the dish.

With a voice full of disdain, the Wanderer speaks up again, leaving the video trained on the food. ]

The quality of the ingredients is subpar, but this is way better than anything this place could give you.

[ He takes the phone again, and directs it to himself once more. Then he sits back, this time crossing his arms. ]

Let's make a deal. I make whatever dish you want me to, provided I know it. A recipe would suffice too. You give me information about the city.

[ And then he sits back to wait for responses. ]

[ when the video begins, dorothea is seated at what appears to be a dining room table. behind her is the familiar backdrop of one of the many empty apartments within the city, the stove in view and holding a pot of something simmering... but, hey, should smoke be purple??

nevermind that, though. dorothea's smiling into the camera, chin propped up on the lace of her fingers. ]

No work, no schools. [ no war. ] No other such obligations to keep a society functioning. How have you all not gone crazy yet? [ haha, about that— ] I don't know about the rest of you, but staying idle will just leave me grumpy at best.

[ she pouts for emphasis, letting the camera linger on her doe eyes and full lips for a second longer than necessary, before her expression shifts to one of enthusiasm. she even claps her hands. ]

And so! I propose this: a choir. Yes, of course, you're all free to organize a hobby club of your own choosing, but I'm not nearly as skilled with anything else, and frankly I miss the music.

[ back home, there hadn't been very many reasons to sing, as of late. ]

Well? [ there are those doe eyes again, complete with a flutter of heavy lashes. ] You'll participate, won't you?

[ who, "you"? anyone, really. everyone. ]

( the feed starts, and there sits a woman. the nook she'd found this time around is clearly another one of the cafes scattered about, quiet and without all the harsher lights of stark fluorescence. she's made herself quite comfortable from the looks of it, a teapot visible within the framing with a few unused cups overturned by it, as if she's expecting company. there's even has a platter of fruit, a small afterthought of one.

slices of peach, if one were so inclined as to squint.

some have met her already, some know her quite profoundly, but that matters not. she has a question, just as she always does, and she figures a face to the voice would be a little more reassuring than mere text, given what she has in mind. the crowd seems.. skittish. wary. she'd rather they not run too soon before she sates a curiosity.

her tea steeps within reach, and her chin rests on her knuckles as she waits; her voice akin to that of a dirge when she finally parts her lips to speak. )

Indulge me for but a moment.

( oh, she's well aware of the range of how this can be taken. it's quite alright. )

But what would you say is a moment of achievement for you? Big or small. You're free to use whatever criteria suits.

( ah. )

And if you'd rather not have it broadcasted, I'm not hard to find. I'd be pleased for company.

[ Hello, you all. While no one's blessed with a pretty face today, his soft, soothing voice should be good enough. ]

Forgive me if this is something that's remarkably normal in this unremarkable city we're in...

[ A small beat, as if he's preoccupied with something else; there's the gentle strum of some string instrument in the moment. A harp, maybe, at the university. ]

... But is there a reason we were asked about our satisfaction in regards to the party they threw last month? Along with that odd question in the second half -- how many of you voted to turn towards the voice, I wonder.

[ You know. This satisfaction survey, that popped up on everyone's devices the first of the month. More soothing harp music, it sounds like he's trying to pick out a tune from memory. ]

I admit, I'm a little curious about everyone's answers! I gave it a pretty neutral score myself; it was novel, but I wouldn't go again. The string of letters and numbers they had in reference to it was rather interesting too, though I'm not certain how it was "for the good of the many". Have there been any others? I recall a similar phrase the day their party was to begin too, actually.

[ Well, here's some footage! Of something red and long and...

fleshy and sharp and with eyes??

It's probably fine. It's laying there nicely on the grass of some park, until a hand wraps around the hilt and the footage ends! Now there's just a husky voice, sounding a little bemused. ]

Well, there you have it. For whatever reason, I almost tripped over this just getting out of bed this morning.

And I know I'm not getting this back for my good behavior and perfect manners.

[The video opens on Junpei in an office chair - in his Secret Club Meeting Room (read: generic office building conference room) although this is not a secret meeting. This is Junpei spinning slowly in an office chair while he holds the camera up, tilting as far back as he can without tipping the chair over. So it's going great.]

So, city-zens, [.....ahem,] I've got some miscellaneous questions for you.

First, time travel: real? Let me know. [......,] I mean, you know— Before you got here, that is. Like how experienced are you in the realm of quantum... quantum-y goodness? I just thought that maybe it would be real for somebody else by now, but I dunno... Let me know that one instead.

[Cough. Anyway.]

Second, are we all just, uh... hanging out now, I guess? Um, like— who's trying to clip through the weird fog and get out still? Anybody? I'm looking for group, or whatever you call it. We can do code names.

[Junpei is not a gamer.... don't believe this... he's just cringe and thinking about half-press-A-ing through the universe, to wit as he spins faster in his chair:]

Third, whoooo's all in for simulation theory? [as dryly as possible, womp...] Eh? Woooo yeah... simulation theory...!

[The video tilts as he lets go with one hand to hold up... a pinched-fingers hand puppet 🤌... it's still fine, he's doing great. He pitches his voice up higher for the puppet, because of course he does:]

But Junpei, how is this a simulation? Well duh, why else would this place be like a city that doesn't know what a city is supposed to be like? And all the weird loading fog? C'mon! Buuuut Juuuunpei, are we all full of tubes and stuck in goo pods like in that movie?— [Ah, ahem, cough. He puts his hand down.] Maybe.

Or uh, whatever else is in the theory pile. Half the people I was messing around with about theories went and disappeared, soooo... Well, I'm gonna get serious cabin fever if I can't figure something oUT—

[Local Man Tips The Chair Over and Totally Wipes Out, stay tuned for updates. The video ends when the phone drops face down onto the floor, bye.......]

I'd meant to do this before, but honestly last month was a bit of mess. So, here we are, the stakes lower and less obnoxious felines involved.

Clinic update: I am, ideally, looking to work with Kaveh in arranging an actual building instead of the shoddy apartment I have myself set up in. I doubt that'll be complete anytime soon, but suffice it to say the clinic is still in operation as-is until further notice.

It's been brought to my attention a few times, but in light of our many incidents here, I will be arranging classes for proper first aid. I will be doing this on each weekend unless a medical emergency arrives. Hopefully that'll ensure the lot of you know how to better set a bone or a papercut, hm? Let me know if you intend on participating.

Lastly, and less important but... we'll say it's a bit of curiosity: I'd like for you to share your favorite poem. I don't really care about genre, just share it here. Thanks.