15strangers | I̝̻̣̱͖͚͗̈̆̕T̤̞̠͎̘̜̤ͬͭ̋ͬ͂̃̇́ ̣̱̳̗̋̾̑ͥͥ̀B̮̺͇̝̼̺ͯ͌̾͗̿͋Ē̝̞̼̣̻͙̙̒ͭG͓̜̅͐̽̐͞Ï̜̳̥ͯN̯͙̮ͧ̀Sͫ͐̂͏͖

I͔T̫͉̄ͮͮͪͧ ̲̜̪̥̓̈́͂̚̚B̫̲̼͕̦͓͕ͩ̏̊͆E̥̱͚̦͓̍G̠̬͓̟̥ͪͣ͆ͬ̓I̅ͯͣ̿N͐̉̎̂ͫͧS͑͆̒ͣ̆

[There is a blight in the vineyard.

It started without warning, deep into the crop. No one noticed. The blight was an insidious little thing, cultivating itself in the weaker vines over the long winter. Then, when summer came, it struck, and there was no stopping it.

The farmers could only watch the blight ravage their gardens. Grapes shriveled up by the bunch, day by day. Sometimes, it would be hours between the time a perfectly healthy vine caught it, and the time when the fruit was little more than black ash and slag. The problem was so serious that it threatened the very future of the business. It was all the farmers could do to try and isolate the sections of the vineyard still healthy, and the parts that were as good as dead.

Then, one day, it happened. The business recieved a phone call.

The blight was no longer just in their vineyard. It had spread to neighboring farms, and everyone was demanding answers. Yours could not have been where it started. It just couldn't have been.

Where did this pestilence come from? Could it be stopped?

You do not know, and you fear what the answer may be.

-

Good morning, Strangers.

Wake up. Look around. Do you feel like this might be familiar? Not your surroundings, but the circumstances. Do you feel the fear in your stomach? Do you sense the wrongness that permeates the air?

You should. Because your gut is right. You are exactly in what you think you are. Right now, there is no other explanation. There is only the sureness of experience informing you that you have been plunged into a game, once more without your consent. A game where blood will be spilled, and death will happen.

The only other thing you are sure of are the thoughts that pop up when you think of your circumstances. No matter what you do, you cannot shake the finality, the truth of what you are thinking. You cannot deny your own beliefs, after all, when they are so embedded, so imprinted on you, that they are as a part of you as anything else, like your face, or fingers, or hair.

And so perhaps you remind yourself, as you ready yourself to leave the house, of the truths you know to be real.

So steel yourselves, Strangers. You know what to expect; there will be others like you, trapped here. Maybe it will, this time, be for forever.

So welcome, one and all. Welcome to the City at the very End, in the eye, the center. A City that gave in long before the code distorted and collapsed and unleashed a virus on reality. Make yourselves comfortable.

You are not going

an̛͡y͠҉w̸h̢ȩ͢r̸͝e̸.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Bold of you to assume he knows what a scolding father sounds like.]

Sorry, sorry-- uhh.... [That sure is a dog guy. You know what, we're just going to accept that.] I just got excited...

[He sighs and drags a paw over his face.]

It’s fine, just...try to be more careful? We really don’t need a trial for someone dying of a heart attack or something.

[Why yes, he is assuming this is the same thing all over again, because why shouldn’t he when his life is like this]

[There's a noise that's a blend of groan and whine at the thought. Not something he wants to experience. And he....will, if that happens, he didn't want to think about that yet.]

Still....this place is already better. Like, a lot better...

[He knows that feeling, random kid, he's just not making any verbal comments.]

Not sure about that, but at least it looks like we won't be going anywhere. I am not in the mood to go on another space train trip.

[Yeah, he's just...not even trying to be subtle...]

Restaurant means food. That means better.

[...he's gotta ask though.]

Space train?

[That...makes him worried, just a little bit.]

Yeah, the trains? With The Conductors? Or...were you just one of the people that had to see someone get dragged onto one of those?

[He doesn't know why, but he just doesn't think this kid is the kind that would revel in watching trials and stuff.]

[Arthur's skinny as a rail, so....there is good cause to be.]

I never saw or heard about a train at the stupid mansion. And we definitely weren't in space. Thankfully, with that creepy sun...

Stupid ma-

[And suddenly a memory hits him so hard that it's almost surprising he doesn't get a bruise.]

Hey, uh, random, possibly stupid question; you ever hear of a kid named Jun? I think his last name was...Ushio?

[Jun. Arthur's eyes flare wide as the color drains from his face. An arrowhead in his heart. The bookshelf. He swallows.]

Yeah.... Yeah, I know him. Knew. Sort of.

…

[He just sort of...laughs...nervously]

Well, uh...if it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure he's not in Hell? He, uh, didn't tell me all the details about where he was.

[Yeah, uh, ~Surprise!~ he doesn't really know how to talk to people about stuff like this. He didn't even get to practice or anything.]

...no, he wouldn't be. We probably couldn't have talked to him if he was.

[Necromancy 101?]

You spoke to him, though? What about Emma? Or Thanatos?

[…he's not gonna ask about the first part and just skip to the first one.]

Uh, no. Sorry. I only talked to Jun.

[Well...technically, there was more, but he doubted this kid knew Eliza or Proto.]

....okay. [He does his best not to sound disappointed. It's not the dog's fault. It's not, no matter what the voice in the back of his head says.]

[…well, now he feels both awkward and terrible. What great conversation!]

Do you, uh...wanna check out this restaurant a bit? The food is probably pretty good.

[Even if it's probably a finite amount that's actually prepared.]

Yes. [He does quickly perk up with the reminder of food, at least. And there's a note of desperation. He's barely eaten for weeks.]

Anything's better than....

[That was quick but he won't complain.]

I'm not gonna ask and just suggest we try some crab. I haven't tried it, but it could be pretty tasty.

[Or, worse comes to worse, there'll probably be something they could eat there.]

[Nodding vigorously. Food.]

Crab sounds great.

Awesome.

[He'll just walk right in to the nearest table that has a bucket on it. A bucket with crab legs.]

You wanna try one first, or should I?

[He's pretty sure he'll wanna try it first and he won't mind.]

[He's already reaching for a leg, like he almost expects his fingers to pass through it--

He nods, like that was a yes or no question. And then cracks the shell and eats--

Oh. There goes the wonder.]

...it's not good. [But you know what, it's food.]

[Huh. That's odd.]

How bad?

[It looked fine to him...]

Not like it's gone bad or anything....it's just not good. Like sand.

[He wants to eat the whole bucket all the same.]

…huh?

[…it...it tastes like sand?

Alright, he's just gonna hop on the nearest chair, grab a leg, bite and...

oh]

Yeah, that's a big difference from what we had in the dining car.

The Stewards didn't feed us......well, they provided once a week, bug I wouldn't call that food. Or trials a good time to eat.

[So, he hongry. Time to monch some crabbb.]

[…he thought the kid was thin, but yesh]

Uh...you can have the rest, if you want.

[He'll just keep his own crab leg, even if he hates the taste. He's pretty sure even a starved teen might not want to eat something a dog had in it's mouth.]

Thanks! Oh, uh, I'm Arthur!

[He's gonna grab the bucket and tuck in. A bad taste is nothing vs. his empty stomach.]

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