[ week one: overflow ]

[murderhost]

MINGLE LOG

The way you arrive might vary from person to person. Perhaps, you wake up on the beach, with your pet cat licking your face. Or you wake up tucked away in your bed, an item of yours nearby and a card on the bedside table reading your name and Welcome to the manor!

Either way, you end up in a modern mansion on a empty, lonely beach, with no explanation of why you're there or what's going on. In the driveway, there is a car with keys in the ignition but, unfortunately, no gas in the tank. In the living room, there is a touch screen television featuring a variety of profiles featuring you and the many other lost souls trapped in this mansion alongside with you.

There is also a camera crew. A camera crew? Really? But following the characters along are blank faced mannequins in a variety of colors, dressed in all black, operating cameras to film them. If you try and talk to the crew, they say nothing (as they have no mouth or eyes or... anything) and just continue to film them. Trying to touch them results in the mannequin falling over and going immobile, only to be replaced by a new one that appears from... somewhere? Weird.

The kitchen is fully stocked. There are spare clothes in the closets. There's even a few video game systems with games in the living room as well. There are books to read in the library. There's writing and drawing materials in the office. There's things to do. Just... why? To what end? What's going on here?

For those intrepid folks who decide to walk as far as they can away from the manor and the beach will find themselves blinking at one point and suddenly being back in the front yard of the manor. Huh. Strange.

Answers don't seem to be coming anytime soon. You might as well just... settle in?

—

PROPERTY DAMAGE | PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS

♥

Comments

[crashout]

[ the braincell is passed between them like a hockey puck, it seems. but he settles on the couch and looks at the tv thoughtfully because this seems slightly safer than other questions. never mind the hum of agreement. he probably would leave if there were too many questions he didn't like. ]

What, soulmates? Yeah, obviously. [ "obviously", he says, like it's foolish not to believe in it. ] Don't you?

[honeytraps]

[Milly sits up very straight in her seat. He answered with such certainty. That's something she can't help but be delighted to hear.]

Of course I do! When did you first know that for sure?

[Not if he knew his soulmate, necessarily, just when he was certain they existed.]

[crashout]

[ this is perhaps the most certain he has been about it in general. he tilts his head back to lean against the back of the couch and look at the ceiling in thought. ]

Last year? Maybe before that.

[ he thinks the "maybe" answer sounds insane so he figures the former is good enough. ]