WEEK 1

[strangerpeople]

WEEK 1

[The train wouldn't stop. Not until very early the next morning. The few who might have been awake would be able to exit the train, entering the cool twilight of the dawn. The star is dark, and few stars can be seen in the sky as a cold breeze begins to blow from the mountain beyond. You can see some chunks of rock floating idly nearby, far away from the station that it won't hit trains, but near enough that one can see they are larger than the train they just disembarked.

Lastly, laid out in front of them, the first port of call: Menahoven. The mountain: The Throat of the World.

But which world? Who knows. Not any of yours. Maybe it doesn't matter. Not when you are so far from home. Not when you have no way to get off this rock without the aid of the trains-and they will not let you pass.

It looks like you're stuck here until the Conductor decides to leave. In the meantime, everyone will need to get comfortable.


There are fifteen strangers left in this place.]

Comments

[notthebreakman]

Your guess is as good as mine right now. Maybe it's been six months to the people of Menahoven, but only a few days from our perspective.

[...Zack's not going to get Einstein's theory of relativity, is he? Just a hunch.]

...Or maybe we've lost even more memories than we initially thought.

[zackthekiller]

[Other than what the famous equation looks like? Nope.]

Either way, this is getting really fucked up.

[notthebreakman]

You mean it wasn't already fucked up to begin with?

[No sense in derailing the conversation by trying to explain it, then. Especially not when it isn't even a certainty that that's what's happening here.]

[zackthekiller]

No, I'm wondering how fucked up it's gonna get!