» the city network

[ The video feed opens on a medium shot inside of an apartment. Straight down the barrel of the lens shows the middle of the living room. There is a brown suede couch that sits at the back of the wall. A mahogany coffee that stands right in front of it. On top of said coffee table is a paper cup with a plastic top lid.

There is silence for about two beats before someone’s voice speaks out from behind the camera. ]

Has anyone seen The Matrix?

[ An audible thump of a rubber stump, hitting against wooden flooring before it reveals a walking cane, then the source of the voice. Dr. House enters the shot, gripping the head of the cane in one hand, and a scrap of paper in the other. ]

“Denial is the most predictable of all human responses!” Or something like that. I was in it more for the guns and tight leather!

[ He wiggles his brows, settling himself on the couch. His cane leans against the arm of the seat. ]

And here I was hoping my delusions would’ve at least upgraded my television to HD. Too much fuzz around Keanu Reeve’s bee-hind.

[ Ah, well. C’est la vie. You might ask yourself, “Who is this man?” or “What’s his deal?” Well, let’s get on to brass tax — ]

Which brings me to my next question: How does a medical doctor find themself in an unnamed city with no hospital in sight? [ A beat. Brows raised. ] Now I really know my psyche is messing with me. Wished for my clinic hours to go away, but they’ve taken all the fun stuff away? That doesn’t sound like me at all.

[ He shakes his head while donning the fakest wry smile. ]

Ah, well. Really hope no one gets seriously injured. That’d be a darn shame.

[ With that, he grabs the head of his cane and jabs the device. The feed doesn’t go off. Rather, the device falls back with the camera lens facing the ceiling. ]

Oh, you’re going in the dumpster first thing in the morning.

( 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.

( ugh the fact that girl made her host this.... dorothea burn in hell or wherever it is you've gone. well, she's got a reputation to uphold, so she'll just use a different username for today... )

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ HAPPY HOLIDAYS ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's the twelfth month of the year, which only means one thing: Christmas. For those who don't know (poor things!), Christmas is a wonderful time of year where you come together with your family or other loved ones and exchange gifts, eat warm home-cooked food, and have a grand old merry time.

Since we're lacking in a couple of those things, we can do another fun little tradition that's pretty popular back home. People sign up, say what they like or dislike or whatever, and then someone else will get them a gift! Everyone's randomly assigned, so maybe you'll even end up making a new friend or two. Isn't that nice?

And maybe if you're all good little boys and girls and anything in-between, Santa himself will be the one to gift you your present this year. Hohoho.

Christmas is traditionally on the 25th day of the twelfth month, so that's when we'll be starting our gifting! There'll be a nice little place set up around and in City Hall for you to swing by and hand them or drop them off if you end up getting someone you don't know, or if you really don't want them to know you were their secret Santa... Let's make this a merry little month, shall we? It's been a whole half year since the first of those unlucky louts showed up, after all! Poor guys.

If there's any fun little winter activities any of you do during this time too, why not share them? Could be fun to have a few extra things to stave off the boredom between the day-changing occurrences that happen every few weeks in this city.

( and attached to this post is a form. go ahead and look at the info post, sign up if you want, and have fun. )

[ 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! ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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.......]

[ the video begins with badou wearing one of his usual tees, carefully setting his phone down so the camera angle can spot him sitting on his living room floor surrounded by an array of dresses. affixed to his wrist is a little cloth pumpkin, stuck full of needles and pins. he's without his usual cigarette, instead sucking on a lollipop that stains his lips bright red. last time he made a post on the network his neck was bruised and bandaged — this time it's the same thing, but the bruise is angrier, spreading across his neck and shoulder, disappearing under a bandage and gauze that looks about ready to get changed in an hour or two. ]

Evenin'.

[ he picks up the skirt of one of the dresses, flipping it inside-out to access the pocket he'd been working on attaching. ]

So I'm sittin' here, mendin' dresses — as you do — and I nicked myself pretty good and I'm thinkin', well, shit, that's another one I gotta wait on, y'know?

[ he lifts a forefinger, displaying a bandage that looks an awful like like dora the explorer, and wiggles it in the direction of the camera. ]

It got me thinkin'—

How many of us here are just regular ol' humans? Or whatever. I'm talkin' no magic, no special augmentations, no fancy shamcy abilities that got you doin' better than the average guy.

[ he pauses to finish off a stitch, making a knot with his thread and cutting the excess with his teeth. ]

See, where I'm from, that ain't the norm. But that doesn't seem to be the case around here.

[ oh, one more thing— ]

And if you are one of the special ones, go ahead and tell us what you can do. Why not, right? What else do any of us got to hide at this point?

[ hello and welcome to Boredom Hours, sponsored by one too many midafternoon beers and a perpetual inability to not immediately make his ennui everyone else's problem. today's host is... Reno!

when the video starts, it's to a shockingly decently framed shot of Reno doing the hooligan squat on the front stoop of his apartment building. he's got a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth, and once he's sure that the video is rolling he takes a long drag of it before he speaks. ]

Sup. I'm Reno. Some of ya may know me from my colorful past as "guy who got yanked into pool by tentacle monster."

[ probably nobody knows him that way but it's fine. we are not concerned with strict veracity here. Reno blows a neat smoke ring and grins the kind of grin that means he knows he's being a pain in the ass. ]

I was thinkin', y'know, there's only so many of us. Probably ain't a bad idea to get to know each other, right? [ he gestures with his cigarette as he speaks as if to underscore his words. ] We need some conversation starters. Some icebreakers, y'know? Everybody's favorite highlight from their corporate bonding retreats.

So! [ he holds up a hand to count on.

one finger. ] Two truths and a lie. Post 'em, let other people guess. I'll leave mine too. Shoutout to the blond girlie who had that party a couple months back for this one.

[ two fingers. ] Hot or not. Or smash or pass, whatever you wanna call it. Post yourself and let people vote, if you're brave. Or post your friends if you want to fuck around. You can all see my face right now so count that as my submission.

[ three fingers. ] Creativity exercise, open prompt. You can go anywhere, be anybody, do anything you want. The world ain't ending and there's no war or whatever the hell going on. Who are you and what are you doing? [ brief smoke break, and then Reno stubs the butt out on the cement, exhaling as he says, ] Me, I wanna make mediocre coffee for minimum wage and not worry about shit except makin' rent.

[ and lastly, four fingers. ] "Reno, this is fuckin' stupid and I don't want to do it." Okay, nobody's got a gun to your head. We ain't even got guns here. Do what you want.

[ his four fingers curl in so he can offer a cheerful, if a bit manic, thumbs-up before he reaches out to turn off the video.

just before he touches the button, though, he pauses as if something just occurred to him— ] Oh, shit—also, drop map pins for your favorite restaurant in this place. I'm in the market for new eats, bonus points if it's spicy.

[ okay, now he's gone. ]

( It's everyone's favorite person, Kromer!!! She whistles to announce herself, then more properly introduces herself— )

Been a while, hasn't it? For those who don't know me, the name's Kromer. Pleasure's mine. I posed some questions last time I posted here, but I won't bother repeating them for you—I got the picture the first time. ( She pauses, then laughs shortly. ) Actually, speaking of questions—

I'm sure you've seen them! The kiosks over at the tourist center in city hall. You can ask them questions and you can get mostly useless answers. They've got some interesting ones every so often, though, like how this isn't the first time this has happened.

( She's been thinking on that answer for a while, and now she's just casually dropping it into conversation. Whatever. )

I'm collecting questions and their resulting answers, so if you've posed any, let me know... or you can pass them along to Junpei instead, if you're familiar with him. We're partners. ( in a way. ) It's nice to be able to make sure we're not needlessly going in circles, right? And putting all the information in one place makes it easier to put the pieces together.

( ... )

That's all. Let's do our best to work together and find a way home, alright? Chin up, everyone.

[ HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. okay, okay, okay. he'll press enter. ]


friendly neighborhood anonymous here.

so this was going to be a post about a database i'm working on with some other people and hopefully more people but one of those people seems to be unreachable now so this is also an APB for Gregor.

onto other shit: we've been working on a document that keeps all the facts we know and all the theories we're currently trying to prove/disprove. it's encrypted for obvious reasons but click the link and I'll get you access no problem [ for all those who have come across his videos on how to use encryptions and how to make yourself purely anonymous, fear not! the stupid naming conventions continue: satanwasababyboomer.doc but its safe to assume that anyone who clicks gains both access to view and edit pretty quickly. ]

this tech is pretty old for me. i'm doing what i can to make it both secure AND accessible. if you're talented with early 2000s technology c'mon down. maybe you can make something work that i can't.

i have to admit i'm not the greatest at keeping on top of things like this. could really use the extra hands in general. there are some other people looking to do the same thing as this but hard copy. mingle with them if that's your bag. assuming they reply here (please reply here if/when you see this... if you want to).

also just for my own curiosities: calling all tech people. engineers, programmers, whatever. let's put our heads together. help one another out.

ps: if you want to annoy someone that's pissing you off I recorded fart sounds, you're welcome.

[ When the video begins, the room being recorded is dark except for two lamps on either side tilted to create a spotlight in the center. A woman has her back to the camera, wearing a black leather jacket, a tank top, and red pants. ]

Things sure have been getting interesting really quickly. Murder, mystery, organized fights to the death! I thought this place would be dull, but it's been really lively.

However, it's also been grim. I think it's time to brighten the mood.

So, tell me-

[ Now she turns half-way, whipping her hair out and twisting her front side to be noticeable. It's all about the T&A. ]

When it comes to women, what's your type? [ Then, she smirks. ] And if you think a boring answer like "I don't like women" will suffice, I'll just say-

[ Then she twists and whips in the opposite direction, back side still front and showing off her flexibility. ]

When it comes to men, what's your type!? Don't even think about evading the question because I will get an answer, one way or another.

[ yes it has been some days. yes this is not the first time she's spoken to the network at large. this time, however, she is showing her face and standing quite proudly this morning in front of a parking lot. cars, empty of gas but otherwise whole, scatter the background. ]

Good morn, dear fellows! I have come to thee today to ask a favor, to grant thee an honor, and help this young knight with a missive most important to all!

[ a beat. she swings into frame an umbrella, popping open the apple printed "lance" with a laugh before closing it as she continues, easy-going like she isn't going to be talking about what she is.

unbeknownst to most, don quixote needs this. ]

Thou may have seen some days ago an anonymous message regarding murder. Well! I am here now, asking thee to assist me with something like it -- nay, the exact same! I would like to see for myself, and as proof of the effects for others, what happens when one dies.

I shall not fight thee, unless thou shall wish for it for I am most happy to oblige, and I shall take only one volunteer. Whomever has the daring, the will, and the capacity to kill, I ask that thee throw thy hand up and seek to claim my life! My dear friends need not apply, for I shall reject thee post-haste!

[ she is NOT letting a fellow sinner do it. not her coworkers. she's been fussed at and she's going to be fussed at again. she might let one of the other city-dwellers do it, given they're both fixers (or formerly) but not her coworkers, war vet be damned.

gregor couldn't do it the other time, after all. ]

However, allow me to lay bare the possibilities of what may happen to thee should thou take it upon thyself to do so.

There is a chance thou may forget that which is most precious to thee, that thou will forget the moment of my death itself, and face... certain difficulties in speaking about it. [ she doesn't know if kromer mentioned that, but it's something regardless. ] I may suffer the same. The goal of this is to learn if it is the victim who forgets, if it is the murderer who doth, or if both have it struck from their mind; the secondary goal, a more personal one, is to learn if both may suffer from the others I have mentioned.

... I understand it is difficult to think of killing another, but I can assure thee, such a thing comes up frequently in my work. We are ever prepared to do so, and to die just as well!

[ helps they don't stay dead but she's not. gonna. say that. it might be odd to wonder what effects who in this case, but. well. a lady keeps her secrets. ]

Any who wish to act as witness may attend as well, for we will have need of thee. I thank thee heartily for thy time and thy consideration on the matter.

[ a small bow, hand to her chest and umbrella tucked behind her, and that's that. ]

oh yeah heads up
ive heard from certain people who committed this themselves and
apparently if you kill someone here
you get your memories wiped of the incident altogether
not sure why they'd go out of their way to do that here but they do this sort of thing where im from all the time so im very used to seeing it
probably can't say the same for other people from other worlds so you guys have to educate me on that

so uhh
im not saying you should or shouldn't kill altogether
im not your mom
but just keep that in mind the next time you got some kinda murderous urge or something
the reason why im anonymous right now is bc i don't wanna reveal who did that in the first place
it might lead to some awkward icebreakers on their part
also i wouldn't lie about something like this if anyone's wondering bc i got no time to waste on leading people on

but this is probably the worst thing any newcomer would wanna see, huh
whoops
well... welcome to this city, i guess

( ooc: feel free to threadjack and craft theories! kromer/@gripper will also be answering questions about things she knows as a victim as well. )

I've got some big news, everyone. Could be the start of things happening directly to us instead of around us, so there's one point for experiment. Or drokking entertainment.

I woke up handcuffed. Standard issue, nothing special. On all levels they shouldn't be, but I've tried everything. And they are not. coming. off.

I know nobody came in while I was sleeping. And unlocking them isn't about skill, don't waste your time implying that it is. I’d like to know if somebody could find it in their gorgeous generous neighborly heart to bring a hacksaw. I’ll even take a sledgehammer and a spike if you have a VERY delicate touch and someone to vouch you’re not a serial killer

Your good-looking neighbor in need,
Rico Dredd


[ooc: Surprise, surprise - Rico's landed himself some mild city-provided timeout time. He is kind of starting to lose his shit. Plenty of characters are welcome to try breaking them, it’s going to be a very long 24 hours for him. Bring on your brain, magic powers, bullshit, smart comments, etc.

Rico's permissions/warnings are here. cw: hand injuries are involved bc he is insane. Also, I would greatly encourage threadhopping in this network post!]

[ literally so sorry to anyone who decides to check this out-- ]

HARK!!!!!!

There are new lands to discover! Such as yonder... "bowling alley"! I have seen shadows behind the contraptions at the end, but chasing them leads to nothing -- it is most perplexing. Nonetheless!!! I wished to share to all the goodly news, and to ask a simple question to all of thee!!!!

[ a beat. a blessed pause. then, very simply asked: ]

Do thee believe in justice?!

Okay. Hopefully me putting IMPORTANT at the top helps denote this as actually something I personally think is important. Got the idea from username dynamight, so credit goes to them!

But serious talk: this is an experiment. Or it's an Abnormality, maybe? An enclosure either way. Either this city itself wants us here because it's lonely and it wants people around, because what's the point of a city without people in it right?? Or the scientists outside want us in so they can shake us up in this little jar and write down their results. Not sure what end goal there, we'll find out soon enough.

If anyone has any proof or any other theories, please feel free to discuss. I'm open to ideas. And I know figuring out what this place feels pointless, but if we can aim towards figuring out the what, then we'll be able to figure out the how soon enough, right?

And has anyone gotten any useful information in general? I've been nosing around, but all I get is redacted snippets with no actual details to work with. Which cycles back around to my two theories above, I guess; either we really are the first ones to get sucked into this Abnormality and it's just been made out of several lonely people wanting a better life and world, or it's artificially made in which case there's not going to be any public figures or history to learn about.

Anyway.

I just think that we should all check in and talk about anything we've learned. Don't feel like you have to talk to me only, either. Talk amongst yourselves. Information should be freely shared so we can get out faster.

Also if you saw me at the party, hi, I'm the guy with the bug arm, that's me, if you didn't know. Yes it's disgusting. Yes, I hate it too. No, the food or water or air in this place isn't the reason I have the bug arm. I've had it for twenty years or so now.

Okay that's it.

[feel free to mingle online, he's just desperate to feel like he's achieving something here!]

Uh, hello everyone. It looks like we might be here a little longer than we hoped for, unless anyone has figured out how to leave yet.

[ He tries not to sound pesimistic about it. ]

I mean, whoever brought us here threw us a really dull mixer and hasn't made themselves known, so a lot of people are probably looking for places to stay and figuring all that stuff out.

No one's asking my opinion, but I would encourage everyone not to live somewhere too secluded. We don't know what might happen, and if you need help, it may be difficult to reach you. I know most of us probably don't know anything about each other, and it can be difficult to trust strangers, but putting city blocks between you and your nearest neighbor won't make things easier.

That's all.

( Kromer's decided she quite doesn't like this place. It doesn't seem like her opinion is an unpopular one, looking at other posts that have cropped up, so that's great. Wonderful when all of humanity is on the same page.

smile.

A whistle comes through the phone first, then her voice. It's a little on the grating side. )

Testing, testing.... Looks like this works! How wonderful.

( It might also be a little familiar to certain people, too. )

What an interesting situation we've found ourselves in. ( "interesting". ) It looks like some of you are already starting to get to know each other a little and make allies, huh? Ahahaha...

( ...... )

Since everyone else is posing questions, let me do a few too. Did you get a waste-of-time text before you left the train? What did you answer? What is your "business"? What Nest are you from? And finally, of course, the most important question of them all...

( Kromer pauses deliberately, relishing in her own dramatics. )

Have we any heretics among our number? I'm looking forward to hearing your responses.

[ ooc: a reminder that her opt-out is here! i'd highly encourage at least glancing at it. ]

[Now, Junpei is fairly certain they're all here for some kind of fucked up death game, because why wouldn't the third time be the charm!!— but until some mysterious costumed weirdo starts getting on all the screens and making announcements, there's not that much to go on. He can skulk around town glowering suspiciously at things for long so long.

Sooooo.]

if anybody wants my vote, it's t minus however the hell long before we all start killing each other. would love to be wrong, but if i live long enough to say i told you so, yknow. yippee.

so.

why do *you* think we're here? wrong answers only. top 3 by popular vote get a prize.

[Does he have a prize to hand out... No, no he does not. He will find some cheap garbage in one of the shops and write a 1ST/2ND/3RD PLACE on it, no problem. Eventually. Maybe even a sticker.]

and what do you guys think about picking code names? you know, just in case.

[big talk from username junpei]