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Downtime Log - 04
Log 04 - Downtime
Outcome to The Mine Car
And so, Minecraftia is saved! Overall, characters opted to focus on closing the mines. Passengers will receive a summary of their results on their phone (though there's still no sender), and will see it play out around them.
- With the deep mines closed off, the fungus responsible for the plague will no longer escape to the surface. Thanks to your thorough efforts, the dynamite has exposed new silver ore and treasure that the townsfolk can live off of, and the ancient mole civilization has also been laid to rest. They pass along this message:
- Totally radalicious for ya to do us a solid like that bros. You wouldn't believe how bad those acid spores were harshin' my buzz. See ya on the flip side. Cowabunga, dudes!
- Mayor Chadsef has been slain. The people of Minecraftia are grateful that his devious plots have been revealed, but are unsettled by some of your behavior. They are left without much leadership.
- Continue to fulfill objectives. Do not dwell on completed cars.
Though passengers can stay in Minecraftia for a while, the exit door is now open! Because presumably some of them killed and ate Chadsef, the denizens will eventually chase them out for being weirdos.
Numbers: All numbers will change as a result of this log. Overall, those who focused on the mines will see their numbers go down, and vice versa. However, this is character-driven: a character that went to the mines solely to loot for treasure may still see their number go up, and likewise, those that attacked Chadsef may still see their numbers go down if it coincides with character growth.
Illness: Those who fell ill will have lingering effects, but the plague will clear without exposure to the spores. Symptoms can fade as quickly or slowly as players wish.
Then, as characters exit Minecraftia, they will receive another new message.
FROM: clownductor one
Well, that was unexpected.
Regular train cars will now resume. Please note that to end your journey aboard the Existential Express, the numbers located on your body must go down to zero. Indulging in your bad habits will cause your number to increase indefinitely and infinitely. Do not think of it as a prison sentence, but...
...A journey along the railroad of self improvement.
And from here on out, we're back to our regularly scheduled downtime log! Good work, everyone!
The Dinosaur Car
As characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…
That's not really an actionable objective, but you probably don't have much time to worry about it because in this car… there are dinosaurs! They seem to be engulfed in a vicious turf war between bickering herbivores and carnivores, and in the middle of the fighting is a flock of baby dinosaurs separated from their parents. :( Their size easily dwarfs the passengers, but compared to the adults, they're small and helpless and could use someone to take them back to their dens.
Unfortunately, not all the babies are cooperative. Some have no sense of danger, and others have too much sense of danger. While others won't stop crying, and some have decided that you're their new mother! Navigating them through the bickering adults won't be an easy task.
All carnivores except velociraptors have poor senses, so they'll only see you if you move. The herbivores will largely leave you alone... because they won't notice your presence at all, and will stomp on you with no reservations. Both sides will react poorly to violence against their own, so be prepared to run or fight if you're the hack-and-slash type. That said, these oversized reptiles are no pea-brains, and may actually be open to diplomacy…
The Crystal Car
As the characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…
The inside of this car is peaceful and #aesthetic — everything is made of varying types of crystal, geodes, etc, and the pink sunlight glitters across every surface. What does this have to do with the objective? Nothing! Not everything in life has a meaning, you know?
However, there is one particularly shiny crystal not far from the door here, with a few fairly obvious hand-shaped indents. When touched, the crystal will shimmer and shine to an emotional song. But not just any song — it has to have sentimental value to the singer. That's right, you can't just pick the classiest tune of your Sp*tify to pretend you have good taste to your friends. This is about a mother's lullaby, or the horrible mix tape your first boyfriend made you, or the randumb song you made up with your friends as a kid. Once the crystal is satisfied with your performance, the exit door will open.
The Otome Car
As the characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…
The assorted NPCs of this neo-noir world are occupied with solving grisly murders. Passengers will find themselves in roles such as jaded private investigator, lackadaisical forensics tech, vigilante hacker, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed dame, etc... but more importantly, above every character's head is what looks like a progress bar.
When someone encounters another passenger, the bar will fill up according to how much they trust and/or like them. (Yes, this will out anyone who's been sneaky or dishonest about their feelings.) In order to fill this 'trust gauge' to max, characters must pick the right dialogue options with each other (i.e. not piss each other off, flatter one another, etc. You may also interpret this as literal otome dialogue prompts, if you like), or otherwise convince all the NPCs that they care for each other. Maybe it's by holding hands, or fake dating, or pretending Wheatley is your beloved son orb (sorb).
Once both bars are completely full, characters will abruptly discover the murderer was the cop all along. They'll receive a bag of Sn*ckers for their detective work. Good end! If characters do poorly at this get-along task, they may get various Bad Ends, which will usually result in them nearly dying (or actually dying) before starting over from a previous checkpoint. Successive bad ends will turn more and more ridiculous over time.
The GBBO Car
As the characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…
Upon entering the car, passengers will find themselves in a large tent. The tent contains rows of baking stations, equipped with ovens and a variety of kitchen equipment. Along the sides of the tents are fridges and freezers, and at the back of the tent is a pantry which will manifest any ingredient a passenger can think of. As passengers bake however, they'll find that they need to work together as access to the gadgets and ingredients is split between individuals. Whether it's the oven refusing to start, or eggs consistently slipping from their grasp, passengers will need to rely on a partner regardless of skill level. Characters that try to work on their own will consistently end up with a terrible tray of brownies, no matter what they're trying to bake.
Passengers will have 3 hours to create the dish listed on their station before being subjected to the scrutiny of celebrity judges: Haul Pollywood and Bary Merry. Ready... set... bake!
The Hand Holding Car
As the characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…
Upon entering this car, passengers will find themselves in total darkness. There is nothing around them except, visible by the light of their phones, a single torch. They'll find that they can't light it using magic or matches, and that it only blazes bright when they hold the hand of another passenger. As soon as that contact is lost, the torch will go out.
There is no path or indicators as they trek forward—nothing but the black nothingness, their fellow passenger and the torch. But eventually, whispers. A cold sensation crawling up their spine, and the sudden, unshakeable fear of the person whose hand they're holding. A voice will warn them of the evil hidden in their partner's heart, the weapons they carry, and describe to them in vivid detail all the ways they could end their life, or worse. There's nothing more terrifying to you than this person, but if you let go, then there's only darkness.
One final catch: this connection goes beyond fear. Characters will find themselves able to read each other's thoughts while holding hands.
The Vacation Car
As the characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…
The vast interior of this car is filled with a white, sandy beach. Clear water stretches as far as the eye can see, and the shoreline is dotted with everything you'd find at a popular boardwalk: food stands, cool drinks, tacky swimsuit huts, a brightly lit ferris wheel. Vendors don't accept money, but will gladly share their goods in exchange for good deeds. The beach is open to all, and sports all manner of coral and sea creatures.
(This may include flying sharks and giant octopi.)
And to top it all off, there's an enormous seaside spa! There are various different rooms, providing all kinds of treats to relax: bathing pools both hot and cool, luxurious showers, wet and dry saunas, lounging areas with refreshing drinks and snacks, and even several outdoor hot springs! Above them is always a clear night sky, with auroras dancing against the darkness if you get lucky. How does this all work in the same climate? Don't worry about it.
The spa is largely autonomous: bathing products automatically replenish themselves, food and drink appears and cleans itself up on its own, and there are somehow always warm towels and fluffy robes. This also means that no one is actually running some of the stations — namely the manipedi and massage rooms — so you may have to lend a helping hand or two.
OOC Notes
Car Order: While the cars are linear and in the order shown, characters can freely move between these six cars for the next three weeks — players may assume 1:1 IC:OOC time ratio.
Locks: Passengers may follow other characters out of cars after they've been unlocked — so in general, players can assume optional cars on downtime months are unlocked if they don't want to play in them. Likewise, if your character ICly would not participate in a car but you still want to play with those prompts, you can assume they're locked in and must complete objectives. Feel free to pick and choose what you'd like to play from any downtime log!
Update: We will also have a small update in the coming weeks — the setting won't change, but there will be a few more (optional!) aspects to play with later.
Feel free to direct questions to our Discord help channel. Have fun!
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no subject
There's no need to be too hard on yourself...
[ He helps to steady her as he casts a look into the darkness. It's emptier than the museum car, and less hysterically disastrous a first meeting, so by all accounts this should be easy.
Still, he's not willing to write this place off like that. ] But I'm glad to have found you too. I'd have been lost to this place alone, if I hadn't heard you. [ So they saved each other, really. ] And as much as I'd like to enjoy your company, we should get moving.
[ Something about this place...
The darkness only seems more oppressive now, even with a light cutting through it. ]
no subject
[Dimitri, as always, is magnanimous. He doesn't embarrass her, rather asks that they forge ahead. He even implies he might like her company. That's probably just false flattery, or being polite. It's bred into nobility, isn't it? Perpetual diplomacy.
But honestly? She's just too grateful to care if it's real or not. Toko bites her lip and nods. Unconsciously squeezing his hand as she looks ahead, starts moving.
Something about this place?]
What about it? [She gives him a furtive glance.] D-does it remind you of something?
no subject
He likes Toko, and he'd like to help her get through this ridiculous car. But when she speaks, he just blinks over. ]
—Excuse me?
[ It's such an idle thought that he doesn't even really know what she's responding to. But after a moment, he answers with a note of uncertainty. ]
The car, you mean...? No, but I admit the air here is unnerving.
[ This time, he's actually glancing over at her though, squinting into the dark from whence they'd just came. I don't hear anything following us. What is it, then?
Why does he feel so strange? ]
cw: child abuse
[Toko glances back nearly the same time he does. The idea had been nagging at her too, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Well, it's not like she was excited to be here, ever. It's less panic now that there's a hand to hold. Better to be together in the dark, rather than alone.
And here, rather than a phrase, Dimitri might have a flash of a closet door slamming shut, or a sudden sweep of hurt and loneliness. Harsh words from someone else's mother.
Nevermind that now.]
F-following? [Her pitch is rising again.] What makes you say that? Is there — What if there is something, and w-we can't hear it?
no subject
Now's not the time for curiosity, though. ]
...We'd be able to see it with the light. [ He does not feel calm or assured, but he gives her hand a faint squeeze, hoping that might be enough to encourage her. His own apprehension has to be stifled, condensed into something small, and buried deep. ] Besides, it's probably nothing.
[ It's more like the tension that comes with a swordfight, anticipating a blade but not quite sure where it'll come from. He takes another glance behind them, then back at her. It's strangely difficult to lock eyes, his hand feeling cold even as she holds it. There is no threat here. Just Toko.
Is it her...? ]
If we do end up needing to run, then we run. Just... don't let go of my hand.
[ He seems to be talking to himself as much as her, now. ]
no subject
The other part draws her eye to the hilt at his hip. It should bring her comfort, that he knows how to use a blade. Yet in the here and now the sight makes her shudder. Toko turns her attention back to his face, and that's when she hears it. "Is it her?"
His lips never move.
Toko's eyes blaze wide. Dart ahead. Her hand squirms in his. What was going on here? Was that some kind of hallucination just now?
What if the challenge of this car was not the dark, but that it drove you crazy? Was she about to lose her mind? Was he? Could she fend him off if he did?]
...I w-won't let go.
[As long as he doesn't first. What does Dimitri owe her, anyway? Nothing. There would be nothing lost if he ran off without her, took the torch and its flame. Even if if the conceit of this car was to maintain contact until you found the cauldron, there's no guarantee he wouldn't take off if the chance arose.
Inexorable, her gaze draws back to that sword. Has he killed anyone before?]
no subject
Except it's not the snow that might kill them, this time. He hears her thought, nearly bumping into her when the speed of his steps changes in response. His mind goes very still for a second, then, ]
I have.
[ This is something he'd rather just say than speculate about. ] My title demands that I lead men into battle. To kill, and to die. I will take more lives before mine is over.
[ As much as he tries to sound militant, there is a tightness in his jaw, a jumble of thoughts where one does not quite win out over the other. The sum of them is something muddled, desperate—the sound of clashing metal and wailing. And then he does stop, eyeing the decorative saber at his waist. It isn't meant to take a beating on the battlefield, but it's still wickedly thin and sharp. He wants to hold onto it, instincts still screaming to watch his back, but when he stops in earnest, it's to hesitantly unlatch the scabbard from his belt and hold it out towards her.
The room demands that he does not trust Toko. She might hear him wonder about her, realizing he knows so little of her motives here—is her fear an innocent thing, or is there something she's hiding in all this darkness? But no matter how his thoughts betray him, he makes the decision and sticks with it. ]
Take this. I will carry the torch.
no subject
Then this train car...
He has killed people. Toko looks at him with wary eyes, watery eyes — her fears were never far from fits. This isn't the same as Jill's killings of passion, or the maddening work of Despair. This is an older tradition. You could paint an air of nobility around it, but there's a cacophony roused in her head, metal on metal and the screams of the wounded. War has always been brutal, it's just rarely face to face in her time.
Dimitri has killed not for love, nor madness, nor pleasure, selfish gain. For ideals. For country. For a cause.
The rustle of his scabbard being unbuckled has her flinching back at first. Expecting a blow. Instead, it's an offer. She senses more from him, nebulous doubts that come together less in words than in impressions. In turn, he might feel her own pushing back: he gives her his weapon, but it's in exchange for their ticket out of this car. He could suspect her. He could overpower her without it easily, she's never used a sword.
Toko's teeth are on the verge of chattering. Always with the impossible choices. Two dead ends.
Unbidden, she has a flash of that bitch, pigtailed and pompous as she makes her ultimatums. One person's despair is enough to seal your fate. Isn't that just the most hopeless outcome ever!? So who do you think's gonna give in? Whose despair is gonna sign your death warrant!?
Toko's lip twists. Fuck that. She's tired of these games, and she's come too far to lose now.
In one impatient swoop, she takes the sword and pushes the torch into Dimitri's hands.]
I h-have no idea how to use this. Don't set me up to look like an idiot. I'll n-never forgive you!
no subject
...He needs to get this sword away from himself, lest he go mad and use it. But he could probably still kill her. Noble words or not, it crosses his mind. His blood is Goddess-blessed, divinely touched with inhuman strength, enough that all the heirs of the royal line could pulverize the bones in a human hand with a squeeze. So he holds her fingers with just the faintest connection, so light that the torch flickers here and there. It is all so tentative.
But the sword is still an important gesture. Because he wants to trust her. He wants her to trust him. They have no reason to, but given all the fear and misgivings and despair that might tip the delicately balanced scales, he just wants to hope that she takes it, and he has to believe she won't use it, not because he is naive enough to lack doubt, but because sometimes one must choose to believe anyway.
The alternative is beyond what he can bear. If all it takes is a single person's worth of despair to doom them both, then he cannot falter when she takes his blade. ]
I would not dream of it.
[ ...But he isn't that strong. There is still a moment where his fingers twitch as she makes the exchange, a rasp in the back of his mind, loosed by all the paranoia and darkness.
Why—? Why waste time with these games?
A thought from Dimitri's mind, but not all of it is his voice, like overlapping whispers. There's a weighty nature to it. The thoughts suddenly have their own gravity, pressurized. It's enough to inspire a little headache.
He ignores it completely in favor of moving forward, back turned to her as he walks faster.
Turn around. She'll kill you, Dimitri. Your Highness, strike first. It'd be easy. Dimitri! You can't die here, not now, not before—why haven't you— ]
...We shouldn't be far. We just have to find whatever this cauldron is.
no subject
She still has her own weapons. The tables could be turned so easily. All she has to do is sneeze.
He moves ahead, his back to her. She gasps and scrambles to secure their hands again. The sword has only been loosely slung about her hips. Every step knocks it against her leg. Tap tap tapping, as if to draw her attention back to her number, her scars. Three shy of forty strikes.
He's still bigger than you. And look at that, he moved ahead of you immediately, as if he wants to leave you behind. What good is giving you that sword, anyway?
She thinks back to what Sylvain had said. Dimitri should have this crest thing he talked about, right? Sylvain left that cursed lance back where it belongs, but did Dimitri follow suit with his own weapon?
Her footsteps falter. Sylvain's brother turned into a horrific beast when he tried to use it. If she draws this sword...
It's a trap.
No. No no no, this is wrong, isn't it? There's something wrong with this place. Something in the air. Thoughts leak between their heads and entwine. The paranoia is thick, near tangible. After that nightmare in the other car she can't trust the ground under her feet. The situations she's placed in. If everything feels wrong here it might be a warning, but the only way to light the cauldron is with a flame. The flame only exists when they hold hands.
That beast appears in her mind's eye. Reptilian, raging, humongous. She'd only had a glimpse before that world crumbled and everyone was stuck inside Hope's Peak. He wants you to draw the blade, but he doesn't know you're already armed, better armed than he expects. You can't let Komaru die alone. Naegi and the other girls are stuck in that game. Don't leave them behind.
Finish this.
Finish this.
Toko's grip tightens. As if she might swing him back around, into a waiting blow. The maneuver never manifests. Instead her voice rides out sharp. Crisp. Wary.]
Th-this sword won't curse me, will it? Because I don't have a c-crest...
[If she's to trust him, she has to know.]
no subject
She knows. How? What else does she know? What if she's working with them?
The only small blessing is that he's used to ignoring this. The burgeoning thoughts, the insecurity and paranoia—he isn't immune to them, but he has practice gathering them, folding them up very small, gritting his teeth and wishing he didn't hear it at all. Why is he like this? Kill her, crush her skull before—
He sounds a little distant when he finally draws himself out of the mire of emotions they've gotten sucked into. ]
Curse...?
[ What she's talking about doesn't spring to mind immediately. He'd only recently learned of this 'curse' himself. It was all connected to the business with Miklan—the professors pulled him aside, swore him to utmost secrecy, lest the foundations of their noble houses be rattled by the reality of crests: that their strength is monstrous, not holy.
Can she be trusted, if she somehow knows this? Can he trust anyone? He can't, but he will, and steels himself again. ]
...No.
[ He swallows, mouth dry, hoarse but sincere. ]
That is my personal blade. No more than ordinary steel. It does not discern whether you carry a crest or not.
[ Why tell her this? She just wants to know if she can draw that sword of yours. She'll betray you. You promised. You swore to me. To us.
The thoughts in his head crackle, resonating like a multitude of voices. There is a scream in his head, pitched and pained. The light glows as he glances back toward her, catching against the lip of a cauldron, not too far ahead. ]
Toko... [ And there is something more fraught to his voice now, without polish or pretense. He can't get through this alone. No—the whole point is that they're supposed to do this together, their hands interlocked tightly. ] I can trust you, can't I?
no subject
Their thoughts are swirling, entwining, emulsifying. What he fears, she feels. Concerns without context. She has to bite her lip to draw focus back to the tangible. She gives him her ear, and hears his answer and musings in tandem.]
...S-so it's normal. [Completely ordinary. As swords should be. He's lying.
If he were lying she wouldn't feel his pressing fear, just as sharp as her own.
He's afraid because he suspects you're hiding something, that's why he wants to trick you.
All this doubling down on doubts, deception on deception. Is that Dimitri's true nature? Nobles should know how to play this game, high courts were always fraught with falsehoods and schemes.
Something screams and she's not sure whose head it's coming from. Toko watches as he turns, catching a glimpse in the distance. The first feature in this barren landscape. Or just a trick of her imagination, wishful thinking. Her eyes flit back to him.
He pleads for her trust. The skin between their knotted hands has grown hot. Uneasy. Ready to slip. The question could be turned back to him. He's the dangerous element here, not her. Even with her condition, his supernatural skill, height, strength, gender, history in battle: all of it points to an easy victory if they lock horns now. With him facing her, she can't even rely on surprise.
She keeps beating that dead horse, doesn't she? As if they weren't achingly aware of this fact. Even so, he's cowed, pleading with her, uncharacteristically ruffled. He's not come undone like the boys from Class 78 (the metal collar snapping around his neck, cutting his screams short as he sails off to face his punishment), but his composure has frayed. Toko sets her jaw and speaks slowly.]
Yes. [It's a risky gamble. Celestia would never take it. But it's Toko here, in spite of her lifelong misgivings. She's only survived because there was someone to show her sometimes the low odds are the best chance you have. She was lucky that way.] B-because...I have to trust you too. That's how it works.
[A potent silence falls between them. Then:]
I th-think we're near the end.
[Though her feet shift, they don't move forward. Just squirm on the spot. Toko points ahead of them, where the flash of something odd had been revealed.]