DAY 00

[thecomputer]

[Good afternoon, Citizens!

Your consciousness blurrily returns as the transport tube your comatose body was stored in opens up, admitting you access to an unfamiliar room. One wall is covered by vertical tubes, one occasionally sliding open to admit another confused person. The wall across from you has a sign saying "PROCEED TO CENTRAL HUB", with an arrow pointing at a red doorway in the corner. The wall to your right contains an unlabeled, dusty, and poorly-lit hallway with blue walls, floor, and ceiling. You can't see the end from here.

Somewhere on your person, you will find a thin, smartphone-sized object that wasn't there before. One side of it is lit up with a red background and a number of disabled menu items. Most of the screen is taken up by another message saying "PROCEED TO CENTRAL HUB".

What is this place, anyway? And who are these people stumbling in through the transport tube array?]

[[Beyond the three prompts below, anyone may start their own prompts to mingle or go off and do their own thing or whatever else they want!]]

Comments

[decrees]

[Well clearly you need to have a talk with the person who did design it!]

It is, yes. I can't say I'm surprised by this, but it does raise quite a few questions. I'm not sure how I could have possibly gotten here.

[alchemicals]

[Right, yes, let him do that. Just march right up to whomever's on the Fuhrer's staff and go "This is fuckawful." Because that'll go well.]

None of us are, so I'd suggest sitting down with the rest of us and waiting your turn to punch whomever brought us here in the face.

[decrees]

[Well you should! If enough people complain they might do something about it!

...Or they might execute all the protesters because they're a jerk, but that's the risk you take!]

I suppose there's nothing else I can do right now.

[As frustrating as that is.]

[alchemicals]

...It's really killing you, the fact that you're in the same boat as everyone else.

Isn't it.

[decrees]

...I don't recall asking for your thoughts on the matter.

[Why this, Kimbley...]

[alchemicals]

I wasn't aware I needed permission to have thoughts on the matter.

[Because.]

[decrees]

Do you always voice your thoughts then?

[alchemicals]

Should I be limited to voicing only the thoughts people want to hear? Because if that were the case for all of us, no one would say a damn word.

[decrees]

[SIGH]

You remind me of someone I know back home.

[alchemicals]

Is it a good reminder?

[decrees]

Not really. He's good at what he does and he's useful, but we don't always get along.

[alchemicals]

[He just buries his hands in his pockets at that, looking amused as hell.]

I'm not surprised, actually; you remind me of a guy I know. Arrangements like that were the only reason he had a social life.

And who might you be? Introductions kind of fell by the wayside.

[decrees]

[Well that certainly sounds familiar...]

I'm Logan, the King of Albion. And you are...?

[alchemicals]

Zolf J Kimbley - Lieutenant Colonel in the Amestrian military. Forgive the lack of salute, but you're not my sovereign leader.

[decrees]

Amestrian...? I've never heard of a country with a name like that. That's certainly interesting.

[alchemicals]

"Amestris", by the way. Before you go trying to call it "Amestria" or something.

[decrees]

Ah, that certainly is odd. Where is your country located? What are the surrounding countries?

[alchemicals]

It's landlocked - surrounded by Xing on one side, Drachma on another...we've got Creta and Aerugo bordering us, too.

[He's ticking them off on his fingers as he goes, his eyes rolled upwards while he thinks.]

But I'm going to take a wild guess and say none of that sounds familiar, either.

[decrees]

No, they don't.

[That's definitely troubling, but Logan only looks mildly concerned.]

I suppose it would be possible to travel far away with a cullis gate, but there aren't very many of them anymore.