Week 2

[bathymetric]

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

It's now been a week since you were all captured. Perhaps you've already settled in. Perhaps you're already confident that you'll make it out of New Rapture alive. How serious about this could Mayor Fontaine possibly be, really?

While there still may not be much to do in your little hotel bubble, you've at least been granted a little more now - some kind of mysterious room and a sizeable library of all things. And in all the places you've looked so far, you've found valuable information, and even learned some of the story of New Rapture along the way.

Make sure to keep talking to the others! You want to keep those regain coins flowing, don't you?




SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to the second week of Unknown Seas Round 3! Please make sure to mark any investigation toplevels accordingly, and you can reach either Mayor Fontaine or Eleanor for conversations! ]

Comments

[giddyundertaker]

[ Ah... There isn't much time left. Either someone will be murdered soon, or the knowledge of all their loved ones will be sent to a situation like theirs will make quite a few people die of heartbreak.

An undertaker's job is never truly done, is it?

The continued lack of proper supplies isn't the only thing haunting our usually giddy mortician as he spends time in the garden, picking out flowers and weaving them together. A flower crown isn't the most Orthodox gift, but there won't be enough material for a funeral wreath...

He seems eerily quiet, lost in thought. Maybe that one person in there concerned him more than he thought? Hard to say.

But he does get a wild idea and decide to go asking around for supplies: ]

Excuse me, but do you perchance have access to a sewing kit or a shovel? I may need to borrow those soon.

[ At no point did the Undertaker care about what people thought. He will be needed, he's sure.

Later that night, before the residents of suite 2 should be coming back to bed, the Undertaker holes up in his room and locks the door. He tries to keep quiet, but you might hear him talking indistinctly. Is he talking to someone? Phoning Fontaine, perhaps? There's a giggle and a click, and then the sound of him setting something on a desk. ]

Huh. Taping over it was easier than I thought. I wonder where they make these things...

[ ... Hm. Hopefully no one overheard him doing things. At least he doesn't leave the suite for the rest of the evening. ]

[specialyellthing]

Do I look like the type of girl to carry a sewing’ kit, Creepy? [The capital in Creepy is… there. He’s earned himself one of Zinda Blake’s Fantastic Nicknames.]

I haven’t since the war. I know that Goldie’s got some stuff, though. Whatcha need it for?

[giddyundertaker]

You never know, missy.

[ He's gonna take that nickname as well. He doesn't mind at all. ]

You see, we don't have access to any sort of medical facility, and I'm gonna have to stitch any wounds together after the autopsy to make the corpse presentable... Assuming there will be a corpse, of course.

[specialyellthing]

Here’s to hopin we don’t have to deal with any’a that. [She’s not totally in denial. Not after Tuesday. But she’s biding her time, trying to keep the calm.]

If there is, I’ll help ya track one down myself.

asking around

[dullshooter]

[Yeah no guesses for what this guy's anticipating. Though, to be fair, he's anticipating it too.]

...I have a shovel. But it comes with conditions.

[giddyundertaker]

Hm? And what may these conditions be, Mister Alien Robot?

[dullshooter]

First dibs.