Ladies and gentlemen, your mayor...

[bathymetric]

True to the word of the random pieces of paper next to your desks, at exactly 1:30PM New Rapture Standard Time, there's a chime on all radios in the whole area - and there are a lot of radios. Both the portable radios you've all been issued and speakers all over chime before a pleasant woman's voice calls out to all of you, slightly tinny and distorted.

Greetings, prospective citizens! Please make your way to the lobby for a personal address from Mayor Fontaine! Presented by Fontaine Futuristics, where we bring your present into your future!

Upon everyone's arrival into the lobby of the hotel, several televisions set into the walls light up with:



Until, after a few moments, the screens flicker and cut to the face of... someone, in silhouette, just like the rest of Rapture. There are no features to make out, though, as the top of a huge leather armchair raises above their head.

Mayor Fontaine is watching.

When the Mayor speaks, the speakers seem to have trouble getting it out. There's heavy distortion and static over it, but the voice seems clear enough - male, from the sound of it, and slow and purposeful. A thick Bronx accent, for those of you with a New York to compare it to.

"So. Welcome to New Rapture. I got some things to say, but I'm gonna bet if I just open the floor to questions they'll come up and it'll save us all some time. But to cut a couple off at the pass, so to speak: yer not leaving, this is real, et cetera. Now, ask me some questions, would you kindly?"

Comments

[howveryglib]

A likely story. I imagine you are simply concerned you would not last more than five seconds were you to make your face known.

[bathymetric]

If you find a way to find out, you're welcome to it.

[howveryglib]

I believe I will. It seems a more productive use of my time than aught else.

[bathymetric]

Good luck, Poor Little Woof Woof.

[sastruga]

[..............are they SURE this isn't a prank]

Did you pick people's titles.

[because this one is just

too much]

[bathymetric]

I'll leave that up to your imagination.

[howveryglib]

I certainly would not consider myself anything of the sort.

[howveryglib]

...

Why is that necessary. Why is any of this necessary. What does that even mean.

[bathymetric]

[ There's a visible shift that might be a shrug. ]

At least I can commit to saying the title out loud. Bothers you more than it bothers me.

[howveryglib]

Why would anyone not be bothered. I am no... "Poor Little Woof Woof."

[bathymetric]

So you say.

[specialyellthing]

I'm bettin' no more than three.

[howveryglib]

I was being a touch generous.

[specialyellthing]

No take backs!

[howveryglib]

...

[okay he probably shouldn't. but like. things have been so fucked up for him recently that he should probably just throw his hands up and like.]

If we do gain access to him, I am willing to engage in a bit of competition over which of us gets to him first.

[it sounds vaguely fun and not miserable.]

[specialyellthing]

You're on. [and she'll do it IN HEELS]

[howveryglib]

I look forward to it.

[whoever wins they win. it's all good.]