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15 Strangers
27 January 2020 @ 10:38 am
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.]
25 January 2020 @ 09:37 pm
23 November 2019 @ 09:31 pm
[The time goes down to zero. Vyce's fists clenched.]
. . .You fools.
[He raises a hand, and suddenly, Lala lets out a gasp as she begins to grab at her throat. Green lines begin to glow from within her body as she starts to writhe, before falling to the ground into convulsions.]
For all of your claims and bravado, you still voted to condemn her! You claim to care, you claim she is innocent, you claim to want to take her place, but in the end it never mattered!
THIS is why I cannot trust anyone with my mission! THIS is why YOU would fail in MY shoes! THIS IS WHY I ALONE MUST--
( BOOM. )
22 November 2019 @ 09:52 pm
[
Soon after the final piece of evidence is found, there is a rumble beneath the house. The rumble emanates, coming closer to the living room, until finally--
There is the sound of brick shifting.
The back of the fireplace slides open as the lights flicker green.]
It is time.
Enter. And I suggest you bring whatever clothing you have with you.
[Huh?
Anyways. It's clear the fireplace has been deliberately altered to have a secret staircase leading downwards. It's not too far, and ultimately, it leads to...well, there's no way to sugar coat it, but it turns out the house has a basement. Old, a bit dusty, and with a washer and dryer. There's also bits and pieces of black and green nanotech covering it with dimly-glowing lights. Vyce just can't help himself, it seems.
What's better is that you don't get food, and you don't get chairs or podiums. Nope. You get to sit on concrete and metal floors. It's clear Vyce doesn't seem to think those things are particularly important. It might be a good idea to run back up and grab what you want or need before everyone is settled.
Once all 14 remaining strangers are in the basement, a hologram appears.
Because of course Vyce isn't going to come here directly. He's no fool.]
Computer. Begin recording and remote transmitting to my ship.
Activate the list.
[beep boop]
[A slow point to the strangers.]
As for all of you, you must decide who is responsible. A majority shall suffice for your chosen culprit to be punished. As for what happens if you should choose wrong and an innocent is punished, then I suggest that, should there be a next time for you to end up in such a situation as this, that you be more careful with how you discern your evidence.
Now. I suggest you get on with it.
The clock is ticking.
[A clock appears above the suspects' holograms. Well.
What are you all waiting for?]
((OoC: Remember, voting ends at 9pm EST!))
21 November 2019 @ 09:05 pm
[Good morning, (good morning, good,) Strangers.
The countdown has been steadily ticking since Tuesday, and despite the crowded nature of the house making it a couple degrees warmer than it might otherwise be, the looming threat hangs cold.
There's a certain disquiet in the air as morning dawns on the residents of 15 Maple Lane – not that anyone would be able to tell, with the darkness of Pluto, of all places hanging outside.
Maybe it's just you? Or maybe there's something up with that? Only one way to find out...]
17 November 2019 @ 10:04 pm
[Well, Champions, it certainly does look like you're trapped here.
There's limited food and limited supplies... and while there's a limited number of you, there's certainly too many of you for what you've got on hand. Never mind the whole deal that you've been kidnapped and shoved into someone else's house. Like, who even does that?
And all to "send a message," besides. Whatever that even means.
Regardless, things aren't going to change by just sitting and moping around. You're here until your captor decides he's done with you, so while there's no guarantee that acting won't just make things worse, it's got to be at least a little better than this.
Right?]
((OOC: Welcome to the week! We've got subheadings and things to organize you lot for investigations and whatnot, so please follow those. If you ever need reference, remember that location maps and such are over here!
If you ever need anything from us mods, don't hesitate to leave us a mod ping in your subject line so we know where to go!
Good luck, Strangers, and don't fuck it up.))
14 November 2019 @ 08:17 pm
[When you come to, it's at your own pace. It even feels like waking up as usual. The only problem is that nothing else fits.
If you're lucky, you've woken up in a bed, but even then, it's not your bed. It's a bunk bed, and there may or may not be another person collapsed on top of you and out like a light. Every other bed in the room is similarly full. But there's no way to fit all these guests on four mattresses, even with forcing people to "get cozy" with one another, so chances are you're waking up someplace else.
You might get lucky and wake up on a couch... or you might wake up in the bathtub, or in the shower. On the kitchen cabinets, in the kitchen cabinets. Facedown in a stairwell, or just straight-up dumped in a hallway. You get the idea. The point is, you're waking up in a house that might be perfectly nice, even luxurious, if it were just you and you were waking up anywhere that made sense.
Unfortunately, it's not just you. It's not even one or two other people. Oh, no. There are 14 others scattered throughout the house. And, so far as you can tell... only those 14 others. Who have just as much of an idea of what's going on as you do. Isn't that lovely?
At least you've woken up with clothes on... and at least you seem to have one item of yours that came along for the ride. Better than nothing.
Oh, and one last thing... you just might remember a creepy little dream that told you about having a power now. But that's gotta be fake, right? ...Right?
Rise and shine, Strangers. It's time to start a brand new day here at 15 Maple Lane.]
19 August 2019 @ 11:42 am
[It's some time before the light dies down. Before you all return to yourselves. Before you realize you are all on the floor of the Throne of Hours.
And that Lilac is poking you with a cane.]
Ah, excellent, you're not dead.
[A gentle golden light streams into the room. Is it the Sun? It might just be.
You look upwards to the top of the Throne. The massive monster lies there, a pink ichor dripping from it. It's eye is rolled up, and it doesn't move.
There is no sign of the golem, or the Soul Gem-]
Oh. You're all awake. Are you all right?
[The golem walks in, still cuddling the cat. There is something...different about her. More human?
The Soul Gem is still nowhere to be see, but one might be able to see a glowing ring on her finger. She slowly walks over, and offers a hand to everyone.]
We...should probably talk. I...there's something I want you to see, as well.
[Will you take it?]
16 August 2019 @ 10:56 pm
[The Strangers manage to escape. By the time anyone has realized they have left, the Analemma is already on a course to a new destination, one not intended by their Conductor-who was certainly surprised to find their ride gone, hours later.
Cardia has turned off radar and other equipment that would allow anyone to find the train easily. There is no barrier around this train, so everyone can see the Clockwork Sun as it gets closer and closer.
( Turn back. You can't turn back. )
15 August 2019 @ 11:05 am
[The day has arrived.
Everyone notices the difference when the rats begin to run around, their manner of dress slowly morphing from oil-stained to black-tie in a matter of hours. They notice it when their invitations are shoved under their doors, with a note requesting them to pack everything-and everyone, animals included-in preparation for their debarkation. And to dress formally. Their arrival is expected-and imminent.
It's not long before the Strangers notice something off about the windows. They seem to shimmer, waver, before suddenly, the light changes. They are still stained glass, and the light from outside is somewhat obscured.
But it appears, somehow, the barrier is gone. And outside, the massive complex appears. It looks like a massive gated community, fitted on space rockets. Dozens upon dozens of different buildings just the four main mansions, all Victorian, each large enough to rival any World's Fair building. Each are different colors, as well, and it is towards the white building that the train begins to dock at a large yard. Several other trains are or have offloaded their passengers as the Eventide finally stops.
And from the bridge the Conductor appears at last, dressed for the occasion.. She looks at everyone, inspecting them.]
Don't worry. Your items will be off loaded by the servants. Your rooms will be ready in a few hours.
[She looks at Charlotte.]
While you do have the dispensation, the people here do not yet know this and may attempt to not allow your leave for that once the Eventide has been refueled. I will let the Butler know of this when we get off.
So. Welcome to Perdurance.
Shall we?
[With that, the doors open to massive, Romanesque arches made of marble. Mint and magenta ribbons tied to statues of an idealized Victoria flutter from their necks; the servants who come to take your luggage and animals wear her livery of gold and black as they bow their heads respectfully to you, even as the rats scurry to try and sneak in without being caught. It is clear you are to be guests of Her Enduring Majesty-and, Charlotte aside at least, you are not intended to leave any time soon.
Welcome to your new home, Strangers.
Welcome to the eternal party.]
[There are nine strangers left to enjoy it.]
11 August 2019 @ 10:55 am
[Well. What else can be said? The Little Courtesy is over. You have all survived. You are now going to your final destination-with invitations to boot. And Charlotte will be getting that private audience, as promised.
But it's not over. Everyone knows it. Confrontation is inevitable. The question is what, exactly, will happen when that confrontation happens-or if anyone will in fact be able to go with Charlotte when it happens. But you've gone this far. There's no turning back. There has to be a way.
Nothing has been certain, or simple. Whatever happens will be no different from the horrors of the Little Courtesy. Perhaps the saying might still hold. Will all be well? Will it?
It must. God help everyone if it isn't.
Seven is the Number, but there are nine strangers left in this place.]
10 August 2019 @ 10:46 pm
[Immediately following the strange insanity that took place in the aftermath of that trial, Towa decides that enough is enough-- she has to attempt to do what she can do. For too long she's let herself be daunted by her own abilities or lack thereof... but she can't do that anymore. If she can support everyone, even in any small way, then she's going to do that now.
Before they're dismissed she calls out to the group--]
I'm going to prepare the lounge for a proper meeting. It'll take me a little bit to get everything set up but please... I want everyone to come. We have a lot to talk about and I don't want anyone shouldering this burden alone.
[And as soon as that's done, she gets to work. Coffee, tea, soup, cookies... she prepares a small, but fairly simple collection of foods as quickly as she can and works to make the space as comfortable as possible. It feels like a lifetime ago she did this the first time. A lot has changed but some things really haven't. If anyone would like to help, she certainly wouldn't turn away the help.]
Before they're dismissed she calls out to the group--]
I'm going to prepare the lounge for a proper meeting. It'll take me a little bit to get everything set up but please... I want everyone to come. We have a lot to talk about and I don't want anyone shouldering this burden alone.
[And as soon as that's done, she gets to work. Coffee, tea, soup, cookies... she prepares a small, but fairly simple collection of foods as quickly as she can and works to make the space as comfortable as possible. It feels like a lifetime ago she did this the first time. A lot has changed but some things really haven't. If anyone would like to help, she certainly wouldn't turn away the help.]
10 August 2019 @ 09:02 pm
[The chime goes. The voting ends. The cuffs begin to blink, and soon enough, the picture on the screen is shown.]
No, that-!
[She slumps back into her seat, staring at her phone, silent. Stunned. Angry, certainly, but definitely stunned.
The Smiling Priest walks back over to the podium.]
It appears the Conductor has not explained all of the rules of the Little Courtesy to you. Shall I, Millicent?
[No response.]
A trial with a dead culprit, successfully convicted, automatically voids. No execution of the culprit, of course. No incentive. But. She did not realize the bomb was not connected to the deaths, as you all did. A rare occurrence of of inadvertent tampering, it does not happen very often in these trials.
She realized too late, of course that her uncertainty doomed the proceedings. In this event, the conviction of an innocent person is automatically overturned, and said innocent is given the incentive by means of compensation for their...inconvenience.
[He flashes a smile.]
As I said. The Drowned Man would not allow you to die tonight, my dear.
09 August 2019 @ 11:23 pm
[The Conductor doesn't meet them when the chime rings. Instead, it is the Smiling Priest.]
Come. Though betrayal waits for no one, she is waiting for you.
[He motions towards the Synod, beckoning all to follow. Soon, everyone passes, almost painfully slowly, through the Seven Stations. They come to the sherd of the Mountain. Beyond that are 15 podiums, illuminated by its light. Around those are pews, with many hooded figures already sitting.
The Conductor is in a chair in front of the step to the well, looking absolutely angry and miserable. She speaks the info into her phone, but she sounds like she is being forced to say it, as opposed to simply going through the same rote routine. She takes deep breaths as the suspect list loads on everyone's cuffs.]
[She says nothing else. She looks like she's on tenterhooks. Looks like there's no point in delaying.
08 August 2019 @ 08:38 pm
[It is very early. Very, very early. It's still night, even. Most are probably still asleep.
They will not be asleep for long.
Not after the screaming suddenly starts coming from the voices outside their doors, if they are in the apartment car, in their rooms.]
Oh god oh god oh god-
B____R! FOOT IN MY MOUTH INDEED!
[And certainly not after the big
That suddenly rocks the train. There is screeching, moaning, and a flash of great darkness. Everyone, for a moment, is blinded by blackness. There are shouts and screams that echo, no matter where one is. Smoke and begins to fill the hall of the apartment car.
Whatever has happened-it's bad. It's very bad.
And the darkness is starting to clear up...]
04 August 2019 @ 10:27 pm
[After the meeting, Lilac gives everyone a small vial of something red. Those who left the meeting receive it from the rats on the crew. She gives instructions as to how to take it. Take in a drink, preferably tea. Drink it slowly. Make sure you can get to your bed once you finish. The headache will come quickly.
Nevertheless, even as everyone slips into sleep, they are visited once more by the Conductor in what must have been a dream. Or was it? It's not clear.
She is quiet as she speaks, looking out the windows, even though the view is obscured by the glass.
"I know you think me as a monster. Maybe I am after all these years. I have no illusions. But I cannot regret the things I've done.
"Nor can I regret the Bazaar...it was so wonderful. It opened my eyes to the truth of things and opened doors I never could have seen on my own. It was the first time I felt true love for another. I wasn't the only one-my daughter, too, passed through the Wicket. Saw the sea more sunless within the Bazaar's body. Learned as I learned. She sought to rival me in symbols, in marking skin."
She closes her eyes.
"She is dead now, of course. Everyone I knew in the Neath-on our Earth-is. Well. Almost everyone. London endures, naturally. But the Echo Bazaar...it's beautiful promise...it's gone. The Seventh City will never fall, and it's Message will forever remain undelivered. Of all the creatures in the universe who might remember it, I am alone in honoring it.
"Perhaps it's noble. Perhaps it's foolish. In any case, maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it's the thought that's important. As long as I am here, there is yet a possibility that the deed may be finished, somehow.
"Still, I wonder. Maybe you have the answer.
What happens to a Message, when neither the sender and receiver exist anymore?"
As the day dawns, everyone wakes up to the sound of howling winds and darkness. Their head hurts, but they do have a new memory to accompany the ache. They are also at a new port. It is a dark place, teetering on the edge of safe space and the unknown in between void, where those who enter rarely return. Or, so you have to assume, right? Either way, that blackness on the deep horizon doesn't look particularly fun to try to drive through.
There is a legitimate fear in Lilac's expression that betrays her for the first time, as she lets everyone disembark, including the unicorn and the young man, who quickly jump onto another train to get away from this place. She also refuses to leave the train. She does leave you with a fair warning.
The Synod of Carcels is dangerous, in its own way, and everyone can feel it. Everyone can feel something hanging in the air. It's not natural. It's bending reality. It's also not something that started with you or your arrival. Yet it threatens to become that way, to become part of you. You can feel the temptation gnaw at you. You can hear the winds whisper of it. There is a hunger here-and knowledge as well.
The question, of course, is whether the price to uncover those things is worth it-and what will be found here with the price that is paid. But as the Conductor said-a reckoning cannot be postponed. Not forever.
There are eleven strangers left in this place.]
((IMPORTANT OOC NOTE: This week and it's investigations involve major Fallen London spoilers, in particular spoilers regarding Seeking Mr. Eaten's Name and one of it's endings. If you, as a player here, are playing Fallen London and do not wish to be spoiled, let us know, and we will make sure you are not given any ending spoilers to the best of our ability. We will also be marking spoiler-filled comments with tags, and we request that our players do likewise, in consideration for those who might look through this post in the future.
With that said, have fun, and remember-all shall be well.))
03 August 2019 @ 11:21 pm
[The Conductor doesn't speak to anyone as they are escorted back. She simply goes to her quarters, leaving everyone to their own devices for the evening and night. There were things to do, reports to file, and of course negotiating the release of certain animals from the prison and the removal of that incompetently-named warden. A million and one things before they departed for the next port, which they did before the sun began to rise the next day.
Still, the Strangers will find a note slipped under their door when they wake up.]
Some answers were promised. Meet me in the lounge car at eleven am.
[She had the rats prepare food, and booze is of course readily available. She herself is sitting in a chair, pangolin sleeping in her lap, waiting for whoever arrives. Once eleven hits, she speaks.]
Well.
What are you waiting for? Let's get on with it.
[[OOC: CAUTION! This post will contain spoilers for the Fallen London metaverse, including for Sunless Skies! Abandon ignorance, all ye who enter!]]
03 August 2019 @ 09:09 pm
[As the time nears its end, the audience begins to chant the numbers as the seconds tick by. Their shouting and screaming reaches a fever pitch, until the countdown gets to zero. They cheer wildly as the chime sounds, as if they were watching a soccer game.
Lilac, for her part, simply sighs as a face is flashed onto the big screens and the cuff. On the big screens, the numbers 10-2 also flash on the screen.]
Everyone, do be quiet. And prepare to the execution. Please put on protective sunglasses, and do not look directly at the light if you do not have any. Of course, if you do, we do not take responsibility for what will happen to you.
[She looks at Zack.]
Now. Unless you can calm down, I shall put your glasses on for you.
02 August 2019 @ 11:52 pm
[Soon after the finals clues are found, there is a beep on everyone's watch. Then, the Conductor's voice echoes through the jail once more.]
Attention. All passengers of the Eventide, please come to the building in the courtyard. If you are not a passenger, you must have a ticket to enter.
[A ticket? Oh boy. And everyone's suspicions are confirmed when they come to the courtyard and find people-many of them who had been fleeing the prison that very morning-queuing in line to enter the building. Not the Strangers-they are immediately escorted in.
They find themselves in a courtroom, with them sitting at podiums in the center. Above them in the ceiling is a retractable dome; all around on the walls are large screens, so people can watch the proceedings no matter their location. People are filing in, even as a recorded voice drones that the jail isn't responsible for lives lost during the trial-or the sentencing.
Hm.
Lilac is in the judge's seat, the pangolin in her hands. Nearby, the captured animals-sans the rabbit, for some reason, and the sheep-are inside another pen that has been set up. The force field seems to have been quickly erected. After announcing the court proceedings and registering her right to magistrate, as she did the previous week, she clears her throat.]
[There's not much else to do. There is the option to ask for the concessions they are selling to everyone, though its mostly water and popcorn. Otherwise, you are once again on a time limit. This time, the audience is watching. Their eyes stare hungrily at every action.