WEEK ZERO: MINGLE

[guestservices]

W̴͍̎E̴̝̊E̸͚͝K̸͕̿ ZERO: MINGLE

(35 ḡ̴̻u̷͌͜ê̴̯s̶̢͑t̵̻͝s̴̡̐ ̴c̴h̴e̶c̴k̷e̶d̸ ̶i̴n̴)

Needless to say, marble isn't exactly the most comfortable surface to sleep on. Do you even remember falling asleep? Maybe not, but the moment your eyes flutter open and the lingering stardust fades, you come into consciousness with the distinct feeling that your dreams were very important.

You vaguely remember a shadowed hand, the pen and the scroll in its grip as the terms and conditions glow softly before you. You can't quite remember the details, the words blurring and fading fasting the longer you try, but you come to a conclusion rather quickly:

-Someone you care about is in trouble and their life is now your responsibility.
-You have signed a contract to provide entertainment to the Host in exchange for their safe return.

Your other memories begin to settle now that you're more awake. You remember that this isn't the first time you've been swept away for a game by someone else's design. You remember what those games entailed, too, but as the pieces click together you get the sense that murdering everyone around you isn't a solution. It won't get your hostage back sooner. It will only end tragically for everyone involved.

So instead, perhaps it's time to take in your surroundings. Where the hell even are you now? The marble floor of the lobby is still cool to the touch, and the front desk is before you with several keys on hooks against the wall. Each of them includes a keychain with two small, clear star-shaped crystals embedded at the bottom. Too bad you can't seem to remove the keys just yet! Guest accommodations aren't quite ready.

Ah, right. About that. You aren't alone! After all, what's the fun in playing a game by yourself? Should one try to actually count the keys hanging on the wall, you'll find there are 35 in total. You can also learn more about them should you look at the leather-bound book bolted to the front desk. Though some of them may look a bit different, seeing how everyone gathered in the lobby is dressed to the nines. What happened to your other clothing? Worry not. You do want to be presentable at the front desk, don't you?

Speaking of the front desk, while you aren't able to retrieve your keys or even leave the ground floor right now, you will find small gift boxes scattered around the desk as a complementary gift for each guest. Inside these boxes, you will find:

-A flask. Those of legal drinking age will find it filled with a sweet wine, and those underage will find juice of some kind.
-A shaving kit
- A single aspirin
-A keychain
-A condolence card
-A sheet of temporary tattoos
-A small bag of jerky
-A compact mirror with a cute pattern on the outer casing

No other items are on your person even if you were holding onto them prior to your arrival. Perhaps the bellhop has already taken your luggage for you?

But despite the front desk hosting a small cluster of bells, ringing them doesn't seem to draw the attention of anyone. The bells cannot be removed from the desk, but the hotel staff appears to be occupied with other tasks.

It looks as though you're on your own for now until maintenance is finished. But it's just like the first time, isn't it? Get to know the other guests, start asking questions, and settle in for your stay.

You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave...

N̸A̵V̴I̶G̶A̶T̴I̴O̸N̷.̷

█ LOCATIONS █ STATUSES █ PROFILES █ AUDIENCES
█ REPORTING █ PRIVATE CONVOS █ MURDER

Comments

[malewife]

An ugly man.

[ that isn't a thing ]

[unsaid]

Haha.

How ugly?

[malewife]

Like a squid.

[ He means... Plain. ]

[unsaid]

[he is

imagining a squid person]

Oh... That is rather ugly. How sad. At the very least, he ought to be hard to miss.

[malewife]

[ That’s pretty accurate? ]

He’s so ugly your eyes might bleed.

[ Okay, he’s just lashing out. ]

[unsaid]

Is that what happened to you?

[he's not bleeding from the eyes stop]

[malewife]

[ Immediately: ]

Yes.

[unsaid]

Hahaha. Are you looking to endure such punishment again?

I believe humans have a word for that...

[masochism]

[malewife]

I plan to seal him away.

[ is it still masochism ]

[unsaid]

[there is some masochism involved in all this i'm sure]

Ah... so a squid danger is among us....

[he gestures toward the revolving doors that go literally nowhere]

That may be a helpful cage.

[malewife]

[ pikasquints ]

... The revolving door?

[unsaid]

It is not truly a door.

[like that fucking helps at all]

[malewife]

[ Tries this again. ]

It's a door.

[unsaid]

[THIS FUCKING VIDEO]

But it does not lead anywhere?

[malewife]

[ his patience is working very hard ]

... Normally, we cannot leave the chosen setting. If we weren't in this situation, you would be able to go to the other side using that door.

[unsaid]

I had thought so... but if a door doesn't allow passage to the next location, could it truly be called a door?

[please don't philosophize over a revolving door]

But if that is not a fitting cage to seal your ugly squid man [it isn't], may I ask what you shall use instead?

[malewife]

It's meant to be a door.

[ He goes quiet because damn... To be a door without purpose? He's thinking about it. ]

It always has been a door. [ He's too depressed to contemplate on door existence talk. ] ... The door may work if we had adhesive.

[unsaid]

[help door existentialism]

Adhesive... There are sticky hands.

[say something else]

[malewife]

[ Just... Stares at him. ]

Bind him.

[unsaid]

Oh? Have you found him?

[imagine assaulting a squid man with sticky hands and trapping him in a door(?)]

[malewife]

for once i'm moving first