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

[cantarellacookie]

He's a monkey-mouse. Aren't classical chimeras goat, lion, and snake?

[Chuchu stops glaring at this strange bumping man. He seems to appreciate the compliment. Anthy's own mild expression hasn't really changed.]

[alchemicals]

"Classical"...?

[He's smiling, though, a bit of a laugh behind his words. The sort of sound that usually implies an apology, though he's not offering anything of the sort.]

I don't think we're on the same page.

[cantarellacookie]

From Greek mythology. But perhaps we aren't.

[alchemicals]

[...fuck's a greek]

Where I'm from, they're what happens when you take two similar but fundamentally different things and meld them together. "Marrying" them, in what's probably the most inappropriate usage of that term I've ever heard. So as far as I can tell, your friend definitely qualifies.

[cantarellacookie]

[Her small smile gets ever-so-slightly less small. As bride of the roses, she can think of a few odd uses of the marriage metaphor herself.]

I guess he would, then. [She reaches up to scritch the monkey-mouse between his ears.]

[alchemicals]

Did you make him yourself?

[...Kimbley you can't just]

[cantarellacookie]

[Anthy doesn't reply to the question, just keeps scritching the monkey-mouse. Her smile is definitely bigger than that it was a minute ago, though.

(Sorry, Kimbley, but no one outside of maybe the BePapas knows where Chuchu comes from.)]

[alchemicals]

[...ohhhh, that thing is totally illegal, got it.]

...Not like it's any of my business.

[cantarellacookie]

He's a very good friend. Aren't you, Chuchu?

[Chuchu makes a happy "chuu!" of assent.]