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

[stinkingdeadendjob]

[Clay slumps to the floor, face flat. Though he was wide awake physically, mentally, he was as drained as ever. He waves his arms to his side in the desperate hopes of grabbing onto something, but whatever he was after isn't there. He sighs.]

Why.

[He rolls over to his back and groggily opens his eyes.]

... Oh. Bloberta, I told you not to redecorate. You know the neighbors talk when they see our house doesn't look exactly like theirs.

[He turns over, grumbling and still lying on the ground, and sees... another person, being let out of the transport tube.]

Why are you in my bedroom?

[angry_jerk]

I don't know, why is your bedroom in my face?

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Hmm. You know, I'd like to know what your face is doing in my bedroom too.

[Clay stands up, brushing off the wrinkles from his clothes.]

Unless this isn't where I sleep and we're stranded in some cold, sciency, atheistic funhouse, but I think it's safe to say that's pretty out there.

[angry_jerk]

We could have been picked up by some shadowy, quasi-governmental agency to make us run through experiments. With only cheese as a reward.

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Well, as long as I can't go back to sleep or be left alone for a couple more hours, looks like we're going to have to find our way outta here, buddy. Think they'll let us out, or do we need to form an angry mob?

[angry_jerk]

I can't think of a situation that isn't improved by an angry mob, armed to the teeth will various objects of consistent pointiness.

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Now hold on, friend, as much as I appreciate quality sharp objects, what we really need are some trusty torches. Torches light the way for the righteous so that they may light up unrighteous with its cleansing flame.

[This is a man who has been in a good share of angry mobs in his lifetime.]

Yep, as long as we have that, we'll be out of here and back home to drink dinner in no time. [He puts his hands on his hips, confident.] You... do know where the mob tools are, don't you? I see you have a shiv, but we'll need a bit more than just that.

[angry_jerk]

[That righteous part was kinda weird, but the implication that someone was gonna be set on fire makes Dan a little more willing to let that slide.]

Well, I got my shiv, my lighter, pocket knife, and... other stuff. Nothing else really useful torch wise.

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Now we can't do much with just those.

[That sure is a letdown.]

So I guess we're stuck here for the time being. [He raises a hand to offer Dan to shake it, but giving a glance at the other man's hand, he thinks better of it.]

Clay Puppington's the name. And yours?

[angry_jerk]

[Didn't want to touch your gross hand anyway man.]

Name's Dan.

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Well, Dan, nice to know you. You seem like one of the brighter people around here. If we do get this angry mob a-rollin', I'm hoping I can count on you on the off chance it turns on each other.

[You always want at least one mob buddy to watch your back, theoretically. In practice...]

[plentyfriendly]

If this is your bedroom, I'd hate to see your living expenses.

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Well hey, the little lady's got to have a hobby, right? And so what if it's spending my hard-earned wages.

[His eye twitches a little. And he sighs.]

I'm guessing you don't have a single clue where we are either.

[plentyfriendly]

Nope. Not even sure what this room is for.

[Could be an... elevator bank or something.]

All I know is, it's not the last place I was. Too red for that.

[stinkingdeadendjob]

[Well, it was pretty red, he'll give it that.]

Hmm. [He thinks a bit.]

Say, young lady, how do you feel about explosives? Or starting an angry mob. I think either or will be our fastest way out of this place.

[plentyfriendly]

Depends on the explosive. I don't think anyone I've seen could actually punch through the wall.

[Somehow, she gets the feeling she might still need that password...]

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Huh. Okay, so, angry mob it is then!

[Suddenly chipper, Clay picks himself up.]

Of course, the success of an angry mob is dependent entirely on having torches, pitchforks, and most importantly, someone to aim all of our sharp, fiery anger onto. I think you'd be good with a torch, personally.

[plentyfriendly]

That's not quite what I meant.

Let's at least hold off on it until we have a target, okay?

[Because come on, she just got out of the last mystery lockup with strangers.]

[stinkingdeadendjob]

Ah, kids today. You're not nearly as excited about angry mobbing as we used to be.

[He gives a chuckle.]

Clay's the name. Clay Puppington. I figure I should introduce myself as long as we're here for the long haul.

[plentyfriendly]

Not a bad idea. My name is Phi.