WEEK 1

[strangerpeople]

WEEK 1

[Awaken.

Fifteen strangers have been gathered to the Depths.

When the strangers awaken, they will feel nauseous in their stomachs. No doubt confused. Maybe a little sick, Perhaps, even terrified. And certainly, there is a good reason for it - they are not where they were before. If they had powers back where they came from, they seem to be all gone. And it appears that someone has left...guidelines for them. All of them addressed to a specific Title.

Their Title. Somehow, each person knows, upon seeing this, this is their Title, even if it seems to make no sense whatsoever. And its clear that whoever wrote these things knew it as well. Who was it?

Its uncertain. So far, there seems to be no one else save for them, and those who dare to venture out of their rooms - save, for some reason, the individuals in rooms 1, 8 and 7 - in this hot and stuffy place. No...'intercessor' to be seen yet, certainly. No outward signs that there's anyone else aside from the people with 'Titles'.


So, Titled: welcome.

There are fifteen strangers in this place.]

Comments

[goodnightbats]

['Trying to prepare some kind of meal' is perhaps putting it generously, as there was a small completely mangled thing that looked like it had been a rabbit once, a bowl, and an irregular pile of cut vegetables and vastly differing and inappropriate combinations of herbs, who going from the state of all apparently has been made by someone who hates every single thing there specifically and personally.

She huffs an annoyed sigh, still staring at the ceiling.]

I get that feeling too. I'm starting to think that all the people in charge here are suffering from some kind of Narcissistic personality disorder.

I'm bored. It's boring here.

[Once again she turns to shout at the ceiling]

THIS ISN'T GOING TO MAKE ENTERTAINING TELEVISION YOU KNOW!

[lightnen]

[ It'd be better than anything he could put together so therefore better than nothing as far as he was concerned. He did eventually turn his gaze upward to follow where hers was, trying to find just what it was that she was looking at. ]

Why do you say that?

[ He was aware - vaguely - of what she was talking about but how did it tie in to all of this mess? That wasn't something he got a chance to think on much before she added on something else to which he actually agreed with. ]

It kind of is, yeah. There's nothing fun to do here. [ No sooner than he'd said that then she shouted at the ceiling again, and what followed ended up making a lot of sense to why she'd been doing such a thing when he'd come in. ] I don't really see the entertainment value in all of this either, but yelling at them doesn't seem like it'll actually get their attention much.