W͜͏̶Ę͏E͝͠K͝͞ ̧1̵͟

[strangerpeople]

W͜͏̶Ę͏E͝͠K͝͞ ̧1̵͟

[The national council just announced the blight to the country.

There was no sugarcoating it anymore. This was a critical time. Saving all of the vines is paramount, but what does one do when the blight hits? It keeps encroaching on the grapes, day by day. Entire clusters, entire bunches, dead and rotting, while allowing the blight to spread, and the leading botanists and viticulturists cannot identify the origin or the cause. They can't even successfully isolate the culprit in their labs; it seems to disappear like air no matter the precautions taken.

It is a catastrophe that seems to be beyond science, and it will result in the complete collapse of the entire country's wine industry. Already, embargoes on this year's crop have forced other grape-growers to close shop for the year after they'd sold their previous stock; it is all too possible that no grapes might ever be grown here again if a cure cannot be found. The tourists have stopped coming. The towns have grown silent.

You, meanwhile, are devastated. With the way your business is going, it will be on the brink of bankruptcy within the year. You will soon have no choice but to close shop and let every grapevine die, let the land go fallow. There must be a cure for this, there must be. Yet everything that can go wrong is.

Then, as you watch the news, it happens. Breaking news. The blight has been found in another country.

It is a pandemic-and it is only getting worse.


-

Well. This is...what else can can anyone say? You all know the deal. You all know what situation you're in. All that is left is to figure out what you can do about it. If there's anything that can be done.

You still feel that compulsion to distrust. To know you cannot win. To know that only the hosts have your best interests in mind. It would be easy to just do all that. But would it be the right thing to do? You can't be completely sure. Indeed, nothing is certain here, except for that damned ticking sound. If only you could stop it.

But you can't stop it. It is inevitable.


There are 15 strangers in this place.]

Comments

cw (past) cremation

[poorlovefool]

[So, aside from the nasty food, most of the base has been kinda okay. There's just one place that gives him possibly unwarranted anxiety whenever he thinks about it though... the furnace. Every time he passes it, he can't help but remember... putting in Ai's body... In a place set out to gather the remnants of death games, he's sure he can't trust a furnace here either. It's driving him a little crazy this far into the week, and it's gotten to the point that he feels he just. Needs to check.

So, here he is. Outside the furnace, he's definitely not going to get in, although he could open it up. Anything of note here?]

[strangerpeople]

[Well, there. Is lots of fire. And heat. And heated fire.




that's basically it at the moment]

[poorlovefool]

[so nothing is cooking!! thank god. well he'll just close this up and move on then]

[strangerpeople]

[Excellent idea!

Does Eric want to go anywhere else?]

[poorlovefool]

[Sure, why not. How's the kitchen, is it bitchin'?]

[strangerpeople]

[It's...something, that's for sure?

Nothing happening here, though.]