A TRAIN COMES INTO THE STATION.
You wake up on a train.
Your phone is buzzing. It's in your pocket, in your hand, on the seat next to you. It's a normal phone, and you're on a normal train car. One of the lights flickers, a little further down. The world is very quiet. It feels like you're right where you're meant to be. On the phone's surface is a white screen and the words—
WELCOME TO THE CITY. BEGIN ORIENTATION?
▶ NO
Please take a moment to complete your orientation.
Once you're finished, the subway doors slide open to let you out onto the train platform. To your right, the platform continues on and eventually ends; to the left is a set of stairs that will lead you up into the station itself. The platform is quiet, clean, empty—there's no one else around, and the only sounds you can hear are your own footsteps, your own breaths, and the occasional faraway sound of a creaking pipe or rush of air. The train you disembarked will stay there as long as you do, its doors still open, until you finally decide to venture up into this new locale.
As you make your way up the stairs to your left, you find yourself in the belly of City Hall station. The station is large, a sprawling underground mini-metropolis of corridors and storefronts. Here, you may find others like you, freshly-arrived city residents from other realms (or even your own). There is also a subway map, which will give you an idea of the layout of the neighborhood, and ticketing machines, which can currently only be used to buy tickets to a handful of stations located on lines 1, 2, and 9.
If you're hungry or in need of any kind of supplies, there are plenty of storefronts inside the subway station as well—snack stands, convenience stores, restaurants, clothing stores, a pharmacy, and a variety of empty shops that may or may not have ever been in use. Everything is unlocked, and you can take whatever you need.
Characters may stay on the train platform indefinitely, and may re-board and re-disembark from the subway as many times as they like, but the train will not depart nor will the doors close. Once they go up the stairs into the train station, they may hear the train doors closing and the train departing. Another train will not arrive, no matter how long the character waits. Only once they come up the stairs into the station itself may characters encounter their fellow newly-arrived residents and take advantage of what the city has to offer.
JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS
WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD.
The station is located in the city center. It has three major exits that lead to areas of interest in the district, but there are several other smaller exits that lead in other directions around the neighborhood. You are welcome to use any of them, but may find the north, southwest, and east exits to be the most welcoming.
TO THE NORTH
The northern entrance to the station leads up into the sunlight and puts you out in a brickwork plaza. There's a modest building in front of you, three or four stories of stone with a welcoming facade. There's a sign above the entryway—it says City Hall. You may be tempted to explore, if you're interested in learning more about the city and how it functions, but prepare to find yourself disappointed—the folders in the records rooms are full of empty, blank sheets of paper, and the logbooks and balance sheets are similarly devoid of information.
Immediately to the southwest of City Hall, you will find a small building that houses the tourist information kiosk. It looks welcoming, with an inviting glass facade and a sign above the entryway announcing it as the "TOURIST CENTER." It's a humble building with a receptionist's desk on the back wall opposite the entrance, empty magazine shelves lining the side walls, and a few spinning brochure racks full of blank pamphlets. Anyone is welcome to peruse the tourist literature, though they won't offer much information, being primarily filled with pictures of the surrounding area—City Hall, the park, a statue garden, and the surprisingly heavily-featured cemetery. There are a few sentences sprinkled throughout about basic offerings of the city, such as apartment complexes and office buildings, as well as a few maps with the same limited scope as the larger version on the wall behind the receptionist's desk.
The main feature of the tourist center is the interactive kiosk installed dead in the center, right in the middle of a few rows of uncomfortable chairs that fill the small room. It's noticeably in the way of any would-be foot traffic through the tourist center, and something about the technology seems a little more modern than the computer behind the desk or the landline phone on the wall. The kiosk is a tall silver rectangle, about average adult height, and the upper half is a screen welcoming visitors to touch it to activate the kiosk. If you were to touch it, the screen would come to life with simple dialogue inviting visitors to ask it their questions.
However, residents should note that the kiosk is only programmed to assist with exploration within the available areas of the city. It may not be able to answer every question, and tampering with the kiosk may result in unreliable or inaccurate answers!
TO THE SOUTHWEST
The western exit of the station takes you up into a city park, lush and green with a very light fog still hanging about the trees. There are lampposts on the walkways and benches where you could rest, and plenty of flora, although you can neither see nor hear any signs of animal life. You walk the paths that meander idly through the verdant grass and you feel a sense of peace, some of your unease about this place easing into a pleasant calm. The air smells fresh, like it's recently rained, and you'll find the grass ever so slightly damp should you decide to take a seat.
As you make your way deeper into the park, the trees grow denser and the smell of soil and plant life grows stronger. This is the older part of the park, very nearly a forest, with ivy climbing the trunks of the trees and plants and shrubs growing riotously around their bases. As you turn a corner, you find yourself first in the statue garden, although the statues are harder to see now, choked as they are with ivy. There are many statues, some partially obscured, some fully—very few of them still stand free of the vines and clinging roots. (It doesn't feel quite as peaceful here.) If a statue's face looks a little bit familiar, you may not want to look at it too long.
Continue down the path and you will find yourself in a graveyard, one that seems centuries old. Most of the headstones are worn away by time and covered in moss, rendering them impossible to read. The few that are free of moss are blank, or bear only suggestions of names too faint to be understood. (Was that the name of—no, it couldn't have been. Could it?) Many of the headstones stand at an angle or are toppled over completely, having been subjected to either strong winds or the roots of the trees that grow up from some of the graves, spreading branches toward the sky.
TO THE EAST
The final exit of the station, to the east, puts you out on a quiet surface street. Are you hungry? Or are you paralyzed by choice? There are plenty of restaurants, offering options of almost any food you can imagine. You could try a convenience store—it's well stocked, and the items there seem free for the taking. How about a restaurant? There's no one to take your order, but when you look in the kitchen, there's something on the stove, and it's just what you've been craving. Imagine that.
A few blocks down, you come in through the lobby of a tall building and find yourself in a corporate office. The fluorescent lights are steady and unforgiving, and the cubicles and offices are empty. There are a few pieces of paper on desks, a few folders left in organizers, but everything is perfectly blank. Despite how empty and quiet the office is, it nonetheless gives you the feeling that just a few minutes ago, this place was bustling with workers going about their daily business.
You enter another building and find yourself in the lobby of an apartment complex—finally, a place to rest. The first door you try opens easily into a completely empty living room, freshly vacuumed but without a single piece of furniture. It's a nice apartment, quiet, but with a little too much echo for your taste, maybe. Still, and perhaps oddly, you have no trouble envisioning what life here would be like.
The second door you open leads to an apartment that feels lived-in. Why does it feel lived-in? It's fully furnished with items that seem to go together perfectly, true, but the feeling is more than that—the room feels like someone was just here, maybe standing right in the kitchen only moments before you swung the door open. The air is a perfectly comfortable temperature, and it somehow smells like home despite that you've never once set foot here before. The refrigerator is stocked, and the cabinets are full of spices and flatware and kitchen utensils.
As you look around the living room, you find that there are pictures in frames on the walls and some of the flat surfaces—a seascape, a field, a shot of a city park bench. In each of the photos there's something just slightly wrong with the angle, as though the photographer were aiming for a subject that can no longer be seen.
Characters are welcome to explore the district around the City Hall subway station to their heart's content. The City Hall building itself contains several floors of offices and file rooms, but none of them contain any particularly interesting information. Nonetheless, characters may wish to team up with other newcomers and try to find some hints about the nature of the city. They can also spend a while in the park, the statue garden, or the graveyard. In the blocks surrounding the station there are plenty of options for food and housing, as well as office buildings, storefronts, and alleyways to look around. There are no workers in any of the buildings, and there does not seem to be an honor system for payment, nor any consequences for taking food from the stores or setting up camp in an apartment or office building.
JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS
I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM.
Have you ever visited the ice cream parlor located in District 2? It's a pretty quirky little joint!
When you walk in, what you'll likely notice first is the colors. Everything is bright, almost oversaturated—the pink of the leather seats, the teal of the walls, the red of the menu sign hanging over the counter. By all rights it seems like these colors shouldn't go together, but somehow they do, or maybe that's just because being in an ice cream parlor puts you in a good mood. It smells like waffle cones, and overhead, there's music pumping through the speakers at just the right volume, providing some nice background noise to your decision-making process.
Wait, music?
There's a jukebox at the far end of the shop, which seems to be where the music is being chosen. As you head over, the song comes to an end and the jukebox machinery shuffles through its options before landing on a new one. The song sounds sort of familiar, doesn't it? And the longer you listen, the more the lyrics really seem to speak to you. It costs money to pick your own song, so if you happen to have some coins on you—or if you're really, really determined—you can choose the next round of tunes.
When you're done at the jukebox, you can go check out the serving area of the shop. Behind the counter you can see milkshake mixers and waffle cone makers; there are ice cream cakes in the freezers that line the wall; and when you approach the main counter you can see the tubs of ice cream in almost any flavor you can imagine.
Pick a flavor, whichever one's your favorite! Do you want it in a cone or in a bowl? There are regular cones and waffle cones, and all kinds of toppings—sprinkles, syrups, gummy candy, mini marshmallows. Decorate your ice cream however you want, the sky's the limit when it comes to choices! You can even come back for seconds if you want, or thirds. Who's going to say anything about it, after all?
But the more of your ice cream you eat, the more you start to feel… strange. Maybe you're starting to get angry, or sad, or giddy—maybe you feel romantic, or feel like you want to tell a secret to a stranger, and you're not really sure why. You also can't quite seem to stop eating your ice cream, and the more you eat, the less worried you feel about whatever's happening to your emotions. After all, why be concerned about that when you have something so delicious in front of you?
| Flavor |
Effect |
| Strawberry |
You find yourself compelled to seek out strangers and tell them a hidden truth about yourself |
| Rocky Road |
You find yourself compelled to seek out strangers and convince them of some egregious lie |
| Vanilla |
You are overwhelmed by a sense of total calm, and can only speak in aphorisms and platitudes |
| Rainbow Sherbert |
You are overwhelmed by amorous feelings towards whoever is near you and try to cuddle or kiss them |
| Chocolate |
You feel suddenly morose about something in your past and cannot stop crying until someone consoles you |
| Bubblegum |
You become uncontrollably giggly and giddy, and can only speak in rhyme |
| Caramel Ribbon |
You become angry and perhaps even violent, trying to attack anyone who comes near |
| Mint Chocolate Chip |
You suddenly have a common but exaggerated phobia (for example, a fear of heights where the step down off the curb is too much) |
When characters first enter the ice cream parlor, they may notice that there's music playing overhead! That's from the jukebox, and the lyrics of the song may sound like they're particularly apt for a character's circumstances. Players are welcome to choose their own jukebox songs for their characters—it doesn't need to have appeared in canon, but characters from modern times are welcome to recognize the music being played. (Players can also feel free not to pick a real song at all, and instead just describe the overall sound of the song and content of the lyrics!)
This is an ice cream parlor, so of course there's also ice cream to be had. Characters can serve themselves whatever flavor combination they want, but shortly thereafter will find themselves suffering certain emotional effects depending on what flavors they chose. These emotional effects, shown above, will last for roughly an hour before slowly dissipating, and their intensity depends on how much ice cream the character ate and whether they were able to recognize what was happening and stop eating. Not every flavor has an emotional effect, so players can also choose to have their character eat a normal scoop and go about their day.
JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS
WILDCARD.
The city is by no means small, and there are plenty of things for you to see. There's no rush in exploring, so feel free to take your time looking around and peering into various nooks and crannies and alleyways—and don't worry, you're not very likely to find anything peering back.
If none of the above prompts appeal, feel free to check out the Locations and Maps pages and write your own freestyle prompt using one or many of the available locations.
JUMP TO TOP ↑
|
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
citycenter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
citylogs2023-08-02 12:00 am
no subject
[ He repeats the word, staring at Yoshida with blank eyes. Nope, not a single light on in there, all the braincells have gone on vacation and the house is empty. Which is why he glances between the bottle and the younger man a few times, trying to make up some bullshit, but he's really at a loss. ]
What's an expiration date?
[ It could be rotten, but ... what? Expire, a date? How's he even supposed to check that other by taste? Hesitating again, he finally gives the "scholar" a reverent look. Can studying really give you so much enlightenment that you can tell something's gone spoiled just by looking at it? ]
Scholars really are amazing ...
no subject
but, despite these thoughts, he doesn't exactly commit to any assumptions. he also doesn't seem to correct or redirect any misconceptions this man seems to have as he fluidly continues onwards: ] Let me see.
[ he steadies his gaze on the bottle, before: ] What didn't you like about it?
no subject
[ Pausing, Rokurou rests his knuckle against his chin as he tries to describe just what had been so terrible about it. ]
As far as the taste, it’s way too sweet and has a strange tang. Both like it’s gone stale and overbrewed… and that’s not even covering how it felt like my tongue was being stabbed by tiny needles.
[ He raises that hand to tug at the corner of his mouth, showing off his teeth—]
It feels’h like there’sh a s’coating left in my mou’sh, too.
no subject
but, should he be so calm about this?
really, he's never heard of anyone calling the sensation of any sort of carbonation... tiny needles. that said, when he shows him his mouth, yoshida tilts his head peering into it before giving a small nod. ] They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What do you think? Feeling stronger?
[ he says as he lifts a finger and taps on one of his teeth. ]
no subject
No. I do feel like I have to burp.
[ Because the mountain dew isn't settling in his stomach so well. It may as well be poison to him, someone who has never had modern day junk food. A clean diet is paramount for a warrior's health; he doesn't keep this great figure by eating sweets all the time. ]
If I'm going to die, it's not going to be from something lame like this.
no subject
who knows, but it's enough of a thought that stalls yoshida's movements for a few seconds. while yoshida didn't tend to be a very handsy guy, he does seem to mimic, this man's openness to physical contact. hence, he just sort of moves on to the next tooth; craning his neck at the same time, seeing if he could see deeper into his mouth. triggering his gag reflex could relieve him of wanting to burp, couldn't it. but, he pockets the idea for later.
perfectly normal behavior.
still, he seems to zoom in on the topic of death. it's not that there's any real enthusiasm there, but he definitely appears to take the topic infinitely lighter than others in his shoes may have. ] Isn't the thing about death that no one can predict how it happens? Even famed historical figures have died in less than ideal circumstances.
no subject
But Rokurou allows the other man to poke around his teeth, surprisingly patient despite the urge to snap them down over his finger.
He only closes his mouth when Yoshida’s hand has retreated. As far as either of them are concerned, nothing weird at all happened, even if anyone normal had been watching they would be whispering what the fuck to themselves. ]
No, I know how I’m going to die. [ bluntly said, without any gravity that the matter deserves, ] I’m a Yaksha. I’ll die on the battlefield with a sword in my hand. Anything less can’t happen.
[ He nods, extremely confident in his grisly end—even looking forward to it. ]
Go out on your own terms, scholar.
no subject
honestly, if they both thought this was perfectly normal, that was enough for yoshida. truly, what did it mean to live the life of an average teen, or in this case of this man— a yaksha? for someone who has only truly ever known devils, humans, and the small population in between, he's sincerely perplexed.
he falls silent for a few seconds, before eventually inquiring: ] Is that better? [ to be honest, he can't say he comprehends the depth of wanting a specific type of death. whether you like it or not, wasn't all the same in the end? death was something that plagued everyone and that'd be the case until the death devil himself was consumed (citation needed). this confusion can probably be seen on his features, but instead he sticks to a simple question: ]
What's a "Yaksha"? [ he comprehends the working encyclopedia definition, but he figures it never hurts to clarify. ]
no subject
[ He answers, a bit surprised himself—daemons are so well known now where he is from that he hadn’t expected to need to explain. Then again, true enough, he has not seen any daemons here. No people or monsters.
So he helpfully points to himself, ]
I’m a war daemon. You would usually find us on battlefields since that’s where we belong. That’s why deciding how I’ll die is better for me—that’s what I want.
[ Before Yoshida can shriek in terror and start throwing things at him, Rokurou holds his hands up in surrender, ]
Don’t worry. I won’t eat or harm you.
no subject
So there are different types? [ he seems to ask, as if to inquire about what more did they have. actually, he's not once really considered his safety in all of this. he considered himself quite adept in determining someone's hostility, and if he were to have intended to attack him....
he'd probably think of a better method than spitting on him, right? hence, he seems to stare for a moment too long, almost as if the other man said something ridiculous, before he eventually lifts a hand up, just to punctuate his point. ] Okay. I believe you.
[ it's unknown if he actually does, or if he's just saying what's convenient. ]
no subject
[ Regardless, the daemon will take his words are face value. His new little scholar friend doesn't look scared, at any rate, and he hasn't started screaming hysterically or wildly throwing things at him. Given the favorable outcome, Rokurou gives the other man a bow— ]
Rokurou Rangetsu, at your service. [ spitting on isn't usually included in that, but. here we are. ] So you're interested in daemons? You don't have anything like us back where you're from?
[ That earns a quizzical look. Not entirely surprising given that not everyone in Midgand even had resonance until a few years ago—but it is difficult to imagine that there is place with nothing but regular humans. ]
no subject
No. I don't think so. [ he seems to ponder on this for a few moments, before continuing. ] But, maybe I would just need to hear more about daemons first to be able to determine that. [ he says carefully, looking at the man carefully as if he were savoring the idea of figuring this out by physical appearance alone. of course, that's impossible and he seems to give up easily enough, as he continues. ]
Nice to meet you, Rokurou. I can call you that, right? [ a pause. ] My name is Yoshida.
no subject
[ Yoshida ... alright. Even if he's become somewhat fond of calling the guy 'scholar' — which he may keep up even though he knows his name now. He nods, satisfied, pleased that spitting on someone has yielded such a good outcome. It's always good to have someone booksmart in your pocket. Rokurou is well aware of his own weak points. ]
Have you been around this city long? I only arrived just today. This is all pretty unfamiliar for me. [ he gestures to the rows of cans, and then back toward the rest of the grocery store, ] It isn't like this where I'm from. Not even close.
no subject
but, with the man's next admittance, it does bring together some other questions. questions that only seemed natural all things considered. ] How would you describe where you're from?
no subject
[ Which is not helpful at all. The daemon scrubs his head, messing up his hair a good amount, trying to think of the right way to explain Midgand to someone who would know nothing about it. ]
Most small villages and towns have homes made of wood. Cities are cobblestone and brick—not like this. We don't have technology like this, and what we do have runs on mana and such ... even the clothes are strange here.
[ Reaching into his sash, he pulls out an old-fashioned tokkuri and pops it open. After taking a swig, he sighs, taste of sake soothing his mouth of the lingering terror of mountain dew. ]
This is mine. See, different.
no subject
he supposed if something like that existed, maybe there wouldn't really be a reason for people to develop technology. hence, he doesn't doubt that's likely why they haven't moved past the ages of cobblestone, brick, and wood. ] Your clothes aren't so different from what people used to wear. [ historically speaking, but he doesn't really go much beyond that. ]
A long time ago. [ he stresses this, just in case it wasn't clear how old was old. that said: ] Well, if you're going to be here a while, you might have find something else to drink in the meantime.
[ he picks up a random beverage and holds it out.
is he suggesting he try them all and using his sake as a chaser? maybe. ]
no subject
Rokurou squints. Yes, Yaksha are long-lived, but he has only been kicking around the earth for 22 years. Only three of those have been as a daemon. As far as everyone should be concerned he is still in the prime of youth! But this young man is difficult to read. Expressions fairly neutral and tone even, Rokurou cannot tell if it's a jab, joke, or earnest statement.
Then he is distracted by the random can Yoshida offers. He takes the drink blankly. ]
Something else? [ no... ] No way. I have good taste, I can't drink these forever. This can't be the only place where drinks are. Help me out, scholar. You must know something. Think back on all of your book smarts.
no subject
hence, after a pause, he continues: ] Want to try another place? [ maybe coffee would go over better? or perhaps, yoshida just wants an iced coffee of his own after all of this. regardless, considering the cafe was sort of his go to at home for any sort of social situation, it only seemed right. ]
They have food, too. My treat. [ what he doesn't say is the food is free lmao. ]
no subject
Rokurou nods happily before throwing the can of whatever cursed drink Yoshida handed him back over his shoulder—it pangs off somewhere and cracks open, wildly shooting foam all over the back aside. The daemon pauses and then slowly turns to look at the catastrophe. An explosion of white soaks the wall and drips down to the floor. A few items have even teetered onto the floor from the force of the spray. Another can falls and hisses open.
Clearing his throat, the daemon slaps his hand on Yoshida's shoulder, ]
Aaand that's our cue to head out. Lead the way.
🎀
but, its not like anyone has taken responsibility for any of the messes they've made thus far and so he presumes it was one of those things where— out of sight, out of mind. golly, good thing they're leaving. still, he's almost in disbelief about how someone can create such a mess...
until he remembers that fighting devils likely leave cities in far more disarray, so maybe its considered a won battle in that sense? yeah, thats how hes going to choose to think of it as they make their way to cafe. ]