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Priority Log - Part 1
Log 02 Priority (Part I)
The Mine Car
As characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new message…
> ▮▮▮▮▮▯▮▮
> ▮▮*
> OVERRIDE: TUTORIAL MODE DEACTIVATED.
> OBJECTIVE:
>
NAME: The Mine Car
TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENT: Gothic era
DANGER LEVEL: High
GENERAL STINKINESS: High
COMMON DENIZENS: Humans, ornithrops, bearkin
CUISINE: Peasant gruel, bird seed
There is no sender. Or objective?
But that's fine, probably! The car itself is completely functional, and features a fully developed society.
Passengers will arrive in this car and be immediately greeted by a fog that chills them to their core. The car around them is vast, and yet deathly silent. They'll find themselves starting off in a forest of petrified wood, the ground hard and unyielding underneath their feet, with flora and fauna in various stages of decay around them. While the fog around them is thick, the lights of a nearby village can still be seen from a distance, and as they travel, the dirt road will give way to cobblestone.
Eventually they'll be greeted with a signpost, welcoming them to the town of MINECRAFTIA.
While Minecraftia's denizens are harrowed and distressed, they're quick to warn the passengers traveling through of the ailment, a mysterious illness that is plaguing their town. It's been leaving even healthy youths bedridden, and while the town mayor has passionately declared that he will find a solution, it appears that there's no cure in sight.
Locations
Minecraftia is a foreboding little town, even in the daylight, with murky skies above and fog blanketing the roads. Still, the denizens persist through their daily routines, and won't stop the passengers from exploring.
Clinic: The town's only clinic with the town's only doctor. It's a small, rickety building that operates all hours of the day. Between the rapid spread of sickness and the steady depletion of supplies, it's a grim place to be nowadays. Anyone healthy who visits might be roped in to help, and those who look ill will be quarantined with an uncomfortable bedroll and thin blanket.
Cemetery: Located on the outskirts of town, the cemetery is home to dead bodies, even deader earth, and a deadpan gravekeeper. The exit door is here in a flower-covered plot, but cannot be opened.
Chicken House: A barnyard building home to the town's chickens. Lately they've been more worked up than usual, and taken to flying the coop and finding refuge by digging their claws into the scalps of bystanders. Agitating one chicken may cause a whole flock to descend on you!
The Dark Woods: The village is surrounded by what was once lush woods, but the trees now stand dark and eerie, an unusually thick fog rolling between them. While there are some of the usual, woodland creatures chirruping in the dense silence, they're hard to find. Monsters, meanwhile, are much more common.
The Mines: In the heart of the woods are entrances to the town's expansive system of mines. Stepping inside shows that the dirt and stone is laced with beautiful gems and minerals, but passengers will be shooed away by miners if they try to explore any deeper. It seems there's several dangerous mine shafts underfoot, as well as past attacks by what seems to be mole monsters.
Mayor's Mansion: The largest building in Minecraftia, situated on a hill. While Mayor Chadsef's staff welcomes guests, they will be cautioned not to explore past the lobby, which just smells a little like cleaning chemicals thanks to a diligent maid crew.
Denizens
Players may use denizens as convenient in threads, as well as these NPCs, except for the Mayor. He's a very busy man!
Madam Vermeer: The Madam is a human extremely afraid that she'll die before seeing her son marry. Which means that she is hunting the streets for eligible men and women, and whisking them in droves away into her mansion to be made over, trained in the art of serving, etc. before presenting them to her son.
Cassy Cassatt: Cassy is an ornithrop and the owner of the chicken house. She's shorthanded nowadays, but business-savvy enough to prey on considerate bystanders. She'll rope anyone she sees into helping out, whether it's collecting eggs, feeding or breeding.
Turner: Turner is a bearkin, and one of the nurses at the clinic. He's taken to drinking his weight in mead whenever he's off the clock, and it's not uncommon for his body to be seen unconscious on the road. He'll try to flee or swat blindly if anyone tries to help him, but he really does need help getting home.
Chadsef: The mayor of Minecraftia, who is notably wealthier than the rest of the citizens. He's young and inexperienced, but carries a Birds of Economics degree, and is determined to bring jobs to the town. He'll just need to make sure people are alive to do them first!
Other
The longer that passengers remain in the car, the more they'll learn, and soon they'll realize the following:
- They are not immune to the illness. They can't determine what it is that triggers it. At first it's a sense of fatigue, then hunger and irritability. Then, the numbness will begin, starting in their extremities and spreading up their limbs, until that numbness turns into pain. Eventually that pain will lead to madness, a state of delirium where they begin to behave erratically, endangering themselves and those around them.
- There is something in the woods. Though the passengers saw nothing when they arrived in the woods, at night they can hear growling. Venturing outside will reveal grotesque creatures emerging from the fog, rampaging into the town and tearing flesh and stone with their massive claws. These creatures appear rabid, familiar but warped, and they swarm the town with no regard for their own safety or benefit. Examples: (1) (2) (3) (4)
- Corpses are disappearing. Despite deaths, the cemetery isn't seeing any more business. Rumour has it that a certain wealthy denizen has been paying to have the corpses taken away. But to where, and why, remains unknown…
Numbers
Numbers! Everyone starts with one that glows on their bodies — as a fun thread mechanic, we suggest they're somewhere visible, but it's up to you!
Because while this is not IC knowledge yet, numbers are determined by how troubled your character is. This may be based on their past actions and crimes, but also alienating habits, regrets, personality flaws, trauma, etc — a higher number does not necessarily mean they're a bad person, but it may signify a difficult time in their life, or substantial personal issues.
As passengers enter this car, they'll notice that their numbers may begin to change in response to certain actions and decisions. The general rule is that numbers change as characters work through their issues. If they make a decision that serves to better themselves, their number will decrease. But if they make a decision that is ill-intentioned, their number will increase. Players can change their number as they see fit going forward.
OOC Notes
Exploration: Players may submit on-going threads here to get a short mod tag with further discoveries in any given location. Characters can potentially earn items or clues as to the car's objective this way. Please limit your explorations to one per player; we will let you all know if we have the capacity to do more!
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E for just End it, Jill
[ That heart leaps into his throat and chokes him back to consciousness at the sound of a door slamming open and he flips over with an almost cat-like maneuver that leaves his entire body screaming in protest of the engagement of a single muscle, let alone... all of them. ]
What the fffhh— [ he deflates mid-outburst, mostly the pain, but also the complete consternation at the sight of Shaky McStutterton of all people swaggling into the room and fucking crooning like a Disney villainess. Not a single brain cell is processing any frame of this scene, but gut instinct grabs a hold of those scissors and has him shoving himself bolt upright. The same scissors kept strapped to the side of her thigh like a fucking assassin's garter dagger. Does he need help? ]
[ No, he had it right the first time. ]
Toko, what the fuck—
G for you Got it, Geezer
[Admittedly, it was pretty funny to see him jump like a bean in a hot pan, so she's caught a little off guard when he shoots back with a real name. And a given name at that. He sounds American (are they speaking Japanese, or English? She doesn't like to think hard about things, so forget that) so maybe he's just being stupid. Or!! Has She Who Must Not Get Laid been getting spicy with some saggy-ass professor type while Jill was sleeping?
HA! God, that would be so funny. No no, looking at his face isn't giving her any mushy feelings, and those would carry over for sure. So, he's got to be an American Idiot. That's all.
Suddenly, Jill drops the smile. She flips the scissors over and looks at their blades. Brings them close to her face, smells the tip.
She looks back to the man.
Then she's on him. At his bedside in a flash, stamping a high-heeled foot between his thighs to command attention. She jabs the scissors down, face-ward. Like a foot or something away, good god, it's only a threat. Relax!
She barks her orders with a doberman's snap.]
Take that shirt off.
no subject
[ I can't lend them to you. ]
[ The realization stumbles as a heel slams down an inch from his crotch and he jolts again, scrambling back a couple feet until his shoulders regrettably strike wall. As if that wasn't distressing enough, it wasn't a scramble so much as a drag, considering he could barely hike his knees up or dig his heels in to propel himself. ]
Fucking— No! [ IS THIS THE MINE CAR OR THE SEXUALLY HARASS VIDAL CAR?? Now at knifepoint?? Why?? He tucks an arm across his staunchly clothed chest as if looking for some pearls to clutch, but really it's more to... reflexively shield some vital organs. ]
[ They're not mine. ]
The hell's your deal, lady?!
[ Because it's hitting now. Possession, personality disorder, doppelganger, morphogenetic shift, Jeckyll and fucking Hyde, something's not right. He does know Miss Morose, and honey you ain't it. ]
All abuse done to Vidal is under strict supervision with player consent. :')
[It's playful, catlike. Entirely unlike the way she belts the hot compress at the wall and accosts him by the hair. She gives it a sound yank, stronger than she should be. She needs him upright and she needs him still, or this next part is gonna hurt.
SWISSSSH.
It's a button up shirt. She could have flicked a few open, but it's quicker to just slice the damn thing.
Through the power of anime and vidya combined, only the fabric is cut. The lower half flops down, exposing a snaking scar down his neck, his collar. Jill leans in, cocking her scissors at the thrumming pulse on his neck as she takes a long whiff. Can she actually smell anything? Is it a psychosomatic illusion? She's never been sure, and sussing that shit out sounds like a pain in the ass.
All she knows is what she feels in her gut.]
My deal, is that Gloomy knows better than to touch my things.
[This is the point where drops him, by the way. Half-throws, actually. She draws back to standing, the scissors flicked high in the air. Her foot is still stomped between his legs.]
Aaaah, but that's so cute! I'm guessing she went and picked all those little stitchies, huh? Am I right? Tell me I'm right! I thought she might have dirtied my scissors with your old man blood, but there's no way she'd have the guts for that!
more like with the player screaming THE CHAIR GIVE HIM THE CHAIR
[ There's a noise somewhere in his throat between a pained snarl and a panicked wheeze that he bites back, breathing hard through his teeth, but the piercing, blossoming heat doesn't follow through. The only sensation beyond the wrenching across his scalp is his shirt falling open, snipped clean through, which he reaches to tug closed again on instinct before a hint of cool metal presses up beneath his jaw. ]
[ Reluctantly, Vidal falls still. Deathly still. Call him Sigourney fucking Weaver with this tongue-lolling alien sniffing up the side of his throat. His mind's still racing though, racing up to the moment she lets him go, thudding him back up against the wall. But it doesn't rattle anything loose this time, except for maybe his temper... She's definitely not the sort of person to rile up, a better part of him knows, but he definitely does not have the clearest head at the moment. All that's up there is disengage, disengage, disengage. ]
Yeah. Real sweet baby angel good samaritan, she was, [ he spits out, eyes locked on the scissors again. ] Wouldn't put it past you though.
[ And it aches, but at least he can still move fast when he puts his mind to it. Clamping his legs together on the ankle between them, he aims a simultaneous strike to the side of her knee with the heel of his hand, following through to shove her off balance and trip her on his thighs. Disentangling himself, he twists, gathering his legs up and pushing to his feet, lunging for the door—if he could just close her in— ]
[ —He gets about a step and a half and his calves fizz like a freshly cracked soda, his feet fill with static as if he'd been sitting on them for hours and it all liquefies beneath him, pitching him swearing back down to his hands and knees. ]
i'm concerned about leaving Vidal in your care actually
Jill is on the verge of pointing out some solid evidence to the contrary when he pulls his neat little trick. Seeing as she's just a sweet young thing with naught but these scissors to defend herself, she bowls over.
And when she hit's the cement, she's seeing red.]
Get back here!
[Good thing this uber virus is holding him down. Jill whips to her feet as he fumbles his escape. The pain of the fall is an afterthought. Barely a notion at all. With the scissors flipped backwards on her knuckles (sometimes it's easier to hold them like you're gonna throw a punch, with extra pizazz!) it's no trouble to snatch him by the belt and the back of his shirt.
Jill heaves him backwards like she's throwing a rolled up rug. Onto the bedroll with you, bucko.]
STAY DOWN! [Tempting as it is to grind her heel into his middle, maybe pin him to the wall, Jill refrains. It's with incredible strength of will that she holds her ground instead, standing straight with all hackles raised. If he gets testy again she won't hesitate to give him the business. For now he's gotta give her the podium, she's got a few things to get off her chest.]
Seriously! Is it always this irritating to play Good Samaritan? Clearly you're not ready to die, so lie down and get fucking better already! Sheesh!
[Jill roles her shoulders back, glowering down on him from on high.]
And please, as if I'd waste my time killing you. First off all, I'm retired. Second? You're not my type. [A point punctuated by a saucy flick of the scissors.] I only offered out of mercy, and the goodness of my heart.
honestly I'm the biggest threat to him anywhere :pensive:
[ ... The fight doesn't seem to be coming though. She's bearing down on him with a murderous sneer, but not much else. It leaves him floundering with energy that he doesn't know what to do with for a second, heels scuffing like they're trying and failing to tuck his knees up to his chest. ]
[ But he doesn't take a repeat jab at scooting back. It's his turn to glare now, brow pinched in as much confusion as there is concern. ]
You— [ he huffs, either too embroiled in pain and panic to form a coherent thought, or just... at a complete loss for words. Jesus this is a lot to unpack. ] —You gotta change your fucking sales pitch, Doctor Kevorkian.
[ Somehow the aggression in her do-goody soapbox pitch really isn't inspiring any confidence that she's not going to put those scissors to work. Or for that matter, that she hasn't already today. ]
Just how many rooms have you been through?
i'd believe it
[Doctor what now? she doesn't even have a license!
The old coot is staying put now. Good. He's learned his lesson, and it's not like there's much else he could do in the first place. His legs had slumped out like WHAM! DENIED! Wow wow wow, how potent was this plague? She better not catch it. It'd be so lame to get taken out by something so wimpy. If she has to die, it's gonna be in a blaze of bloody glory. Mark her words.]
Oh, just three, not including you. [The venom in her voice has dropped completely. Her mood's switched on a dime, though he's still hitting her with laser-focused contempt. She waggles the scissors in the air so the blade glints bright in the light, smiling sweet as peaches.] And not one goner in 'em. Check it out! Spotless, see? So you better unbunch your panties, Geezer. Everything's gonna be juuuuuust fine.
[She spins on her heel, ballerina-esque, and traipses too the door.]
That thing should still be hot enough. [The compress. Not broken, it's eight percent cloth, but it has slumped sadly against the wall.] Wedge it into that thick skull of yours for all I care. Someone else can put up with your stench, because I'm over it!
[Jill all but rips the door open. At he last moment she leans back — flexibly so, demonically so, head damn near upside down as she bends at the waist to bid him adieu, tongue flopping the wrong way. Her wild hair already scrapes her calves while standing. Now it's coiling on the floor.]
Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone! It'd be a real big shame if you got sicker. I bet you looked like shit to start with, but now you're Shit Extreme. Shit Ultra! Is there enough beauty sleep in the world to help a waste like you?
[She cackles as she pulls upright, slipping through the gap at last. Her laughter carries through the closed door, as does the clop of her heels. Going, going, gone.
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