Week 1

[bathymetric]

Good morning, New Rapture. A new day is dawning.

There may not be much light to differentiate the days here, but the lights of the part of the city you're in change enough by the clock that you can almost believe there's a sun somewhere. It looks like Mayor Fontaine has no intention of going back on his deal, and for the time being? You're all stuck here. But there's plenty to do, and... maybe not plenty to see, but there's enough. There's something, at any rate.

Especially if you're willing to look beyond the surface.

And if you spend enough time around others, you might find something neat!

No matter what, it's time to start getting to know your fellow captives. You might be here a while.




MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
FRIDAY | SATURDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to the first week of Unknown Seas Round 3! We're very excited to have you. Please make sure to mark any investigation toplevels accordingly, and you can reach either Mayor Fontaine or Eleanor for conversations! ]

Comments

[giddyundertaker]

Religion hardly matters in the end, does it?

[ He doesn't really care. Clearly. ]

[dullshooter]

True enough. Pretty sure that whichever way you believe - or don’t, you end up doubting it when your time comes.

[Death makes agnostics of us all.]

If we’re not going with creation myths, then I was invented the same way as you, probably. By great cosmic coincidence.

[giddyundertaker]

Wait, are you telling me you weren't built in a workshop?

[dullshooter]

Yes. Quite literally.

[giddyundertaker]

[ He leans in really close, trying to find anything organic looking in that hard metal somewhere. ]

And you're not some fleshy creature in a tin can?

[dullshooter]

Nope. [He does shift a little at the close inspection, but it’s not enough for him to fully step back yet.] What, do you want to cut me open and find out?

[giddyundertaker]

... Would be hard to cut through metal... So nah.

[dullshooter]

I’m glad that’s all that’s keeping me from being pinned down and pulled apart on one of the kitchen tables.

[Really! So relieved.]

If someone bumps me off, you have my full permission to grab a wrench and have your own little root around in there.

[giddyundertaker]

Really? You're sure you'd want us to do that to you?

[ He will note you down for "donating body to science" if you're serious. ]

[dullshooter]

[He shrugs.]

I've desecrated enough corpses to not have any objections to someone doing the same to me.

[giddyundertaker]

So be it, then! But I'll have you know I treat all my clients as well as possible...

[dullshooter]

I won't object to luxury treatment. Just don't do anything weird and mad science-y with me, alright?

[giddyundertaker]

... Wouldn't dissection count as "Weird and Mad Science-y?"

[dullshooter]

No, see, that's standard fare. They do that in classrooms. I'm talking more along the lines of turning me into a seriously effed-up genetic experiment, probably involving the bodies of one or two more other people. And then our minds start melding and we forget who we are and destroy ourselves in one massive identity crisis.

[giddyundertaker]

[ . . . Well. He's probably blinking at that. ]

That's an oddly specific example, sir. Where did you get that idea from?

[dullshooter]

I just made it up. But it sounds like the kind of thing that could happen, right?

[giddyundertaker]

Perhaps, but I don't have much reason to do that.

[dullshooter]

Then we're all good.

[giddyundertaker]

Good! I'll keep that in mind...