15strangers | (no subject)

W̡͜E̶EK ̵̕2̕͠

[The blight would not stop.

The world's leading experts have been trying to find a cure, to no avail. Th blight keeps changing, keeps foiling all attempts at being fully understood. It's almost sentient, or at least more sentient than any disease that's been encountered before. People fear the disease jumping from what's left of the grapes into other plants, into animals, or even humans.

You can only watch as entire economies and ecosystems collapse. You can only bury your head in your hands as your own business comes to its end. The destruction of the clusters of grapes has not simply destroyed the wine industry, either-other businesses are being destroyed by the plague. Food, transport, retail, nothing is untouched.

You look on your own vineyard, its yield almost entirely blackened and dead.

This can't keep going on.

-

A week has passed since everyone's arrival. No one has died, yet. But surely no one is holding their breath to see if they would survive this unscathed. They are veterans of the game, and they must know that whoever it is that is in charge demands their pound of flesh. The question is when it will happen.

It is the second week, after all-and when the second week of the game comes, death is not far behind. Not even when you wake up, feeling something different in your mind as you remember the truths you originally woke up with, deep in your mind. You feel...lighter, somehow, when you realize there is a change.

Even so, there are 15 strangers left in this place.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You'd think there'd be one thing here they forgot to ruin the taste of, but...

[Jonathan shrugs, the rest of the sentence really able to go without saying. He recognizes some of the stuff on the table, but marching up and demanding things without at least trying to make conversation isn't really his style.]

So... quite the haul, huh?

That operates on the assumption that the problem is with the food, to be quite blunt. Given how much they've been tampering with our heads already, I'm not prepared to count on that.

[Kurama offers Jonathan a tight smile.]

Our Hosts suggested I would enjoy eating more if I had the radio on. I haven't tried it.

[He glances over at the table at the shift in conversation and nods slightly.]

Yes, the socks were building up. I thought I ought to give anyone a chance to claim things that are theirs.

Speaking of... the, ah, the suit and the bathrobe. Wasn't expecting to see either of those here, but if I could....

[It feels a little bit awkward to outright ask, for some reason.

Mostly because it seems like their hosts were extending the same advice to everyone, and he can't forget that.]

And I got the same "tip" about the radio making the food better. Wish it was something we could test, but it's like comparing the TV to the radio, it's too much of a risk.

If they belong to you and your wife, then of course. I don't have any need for them.

[Kurama is being polite about Jonathan's wife! As for that last part, he frowns outright and nods agreement.]

We don't know how far we can let them in before reaching a point of no return.

Yeah. I'd rather not risk losing anybody to whatever "corporation" is doing the broadcasting if we can help it....

[He smiles, though, reaching back to that polite reply.]

Thanks, I know she'll be glad to have that back, and... I really miss having colors that aren't all faded out to choose from, as clothes go. I know it's vain, but everything here's so washed out....

Nor would I. Kidnapping, mental manipulation, and murdergames hardly make for good PR.

[This quirk of Kurama's lips is small and weak but visible.]

I'm not in any position to judge another for vanity. Truthfully, I feel the same way.