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.
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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 west of City Hall, you will find a small building that houses the tourist information kiosk. The kiosk is not currently operational, but you may want to remember its location...
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.
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A WASH, ANYONE?
The coin laundromat is tucked into the first floor of one of the tall apartment buildings. Soap is complimentary, and while the machines say that they cost a quarter per load, in reality they are fully operational without any money being exchanged at all. If you have any clothes that need a wash, perhaps items that have been dirtied by your explorations (or your travels before arriving in the city), you may want to take this opportunity to wash them for free.
From the soap dispenser, you can retrieve packets of detergent in different strengths. There's plenty of stock of for mild to moderate grime and for heavy-duty stains, but there are also a handful of packets with slightly less obvious purposes. For things remembered, says one. For unhappy accidents, says another. Feel free to use whichever seems most suited to your needs.
When your laundry cycle has ended, the buzzer sounds and the door pops open so the clothing can be retrieved. You grab a laundry basket and reach in to start pulling fabric out of the machine by the handful. But wait a second–the more clothing you retrieve, the less familiar the items seem, and by the time you've retrieved the last bundled sock from the depths of the dryer you're absolutely positive: These clothes don't belong to you.
You're sure that you put your own clothing into the machine, but these are someone else's clothes entirely. Did someone sneak in while you weren't paying attention and swap out your laundry? Or did you accidentally open up the wrong dryer to retrieve the wrong load? Maybe you'd better look around at whoever else is in the laundromat with you and have a go at trying to find the owner of these clothes.
Whether the characters have had their clothing swapped or simply opened the wrong machine to grab someone else's laundry is up to the player's imagination, but one thing's for sure: you have someone else's clothes in your basket. Maybe these are clothes that belong to another character in the laundromat, or maybe they're garments that belong to someone that character knew back home. Players are encouraged to mess around with the premise and use it to get to know other characters!
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COME ONE, COME ALL...
Have you ever noticed that flickering sign hanging in the window of that little building around the corner from the parking lot? The one that says PSYCHIC READINGS in bold neon lettering?
You step inside the shop and immediately smell a powerful combination of aromas: herbs, candles, incense, something spicy and warm underneath. It's a small space, cluttered with objects. A crystal ball covered in velvet sits in the center of a table, and there are tarot card sets and drawers full of dried herbs and flowers. On the shelves are various remedies with labels printed so neatly it's impossible to tell whether they're typed or handwritten. Headaches, or hemophilia, and also irascibility and fits of sighing. There are also jars full of less easily-identifiable contents, but a close examination may show you frog legs, fish eyes, rat tails. For some reason, it feels like sticking your hand in one of these jars might not be the best idea.
Toward the back of the shop is a glass case that holds the bust of a woman. As you approach, your movement triggers a light inside the case to illuminate the woman's face–or where her face would be, if she had one. The normal human features of her face are smoothed out until they barely resemble a face at all, with slightly hollowed divots for eyes and a faintly raised bump for a nose. The closer you get, though, the more strongly you feel that despite the absence of eyes, the woman is indeed watching you.
The lettering at the top of the case states FORTUNE TELLER, and a sign affixed to the front of the glass says, Ask for anything, but be careful what you wish for.
You form a question in your mind, then ask your question out loud. The woman shifts, straightening up, and you hear the faint whirring of clockwork and pneumatics moving inside her. She gathers her hands in front of her, cupping them like she's holding water, and strange light emanates from her palms, casting harsh illumination on the blank space where her face should be. Although she has no mouth with which to speak, you nonetheless hear a vaguely female voice intone, "Your fate has been read."
A paper slip emerges from a slot in the front of the case, your freshly-printed fortune, the ink barely dry.
Although the crystal ball will not actually show the future, characters with any kind of herbal knowledge may clock that the herbs and remedies in the drawers and shelves of the shop are legitimate. Characters can ask anything they want of the fortune teller, or make as many wishes as they like. They'll get as many fortune slips as correspond to the number of questions they ask. Players are encouraged to come up with whatever vaguely-accurate fortunes you think work for your character, but if you're low on ideas, you can always try an online Magic 8 Ball or fortune cookie generator.
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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.
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Koriel XIII | Baroque
[ This is wrong.
This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.
His flesh feels uncomfortable. His shoulders are sore. His eyes are twitching. His jaw is stiff. His stomach is so sick, were it not empty, he'd have heaved by now.
He is in this body that should be his, but is not his. His brother is no where. He can't feel him at all. Normally, at least, he can sense his brother's presence when he is the one 'taking over' this body, but right now... right now, there is one heartbeat and for once he hates that it is his own.
Koriel XIII only hits the yes on the device he's found on his person to try and free himself from this ... it's a train, right? They were in books, right? It's claustrophobic and his guts are churning from its movement.
He has to stumble off. He feels naked without a sword in his hand and the Angelic rifle on his back. He is clad still in his shabby clothes, his bandages, and his small, artificial wings made of metal and weaved into an intricate design, but he feels so bare being down to just his fists.
God is not here. His brother is not here. This world is not as horrific as his own, but the silence and the open space are unsettling.
He can be seen finding the nearest wall to lean against, almost looking like he's struggling to breathe against the anxiety stirring in him.
God is not here. His brother is not here. So why is he? It's too much to bear. He's spiraling out. ]
ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀsᴛ
[ Koriel XIII is hungry. He is damn starving. He may start his time in the woods, but with the hostility of others lingering there, he turns his heels back towards where buildings crop up on the skyline once more. This city is less foreboding than the empty, haunted one outside of the Neuro Tower, and may hold something to quell his gnawing, growing need for food.
He wants something. Meat, raw or rotten, bones, hearts, blood, anything. He misses hospital food. He misses the ease of eating it, but his stomach longs for any sustenance it can get.
He can be seen, eventually, raiding a convenience store for whatever he can stuff in his pockets and past his teeth.. His hands are sweaty and he is shaking. Anything is good. Anything at all. Starving rats are prone to biting, but perhaps checking on this skinny, desperate looking guy might be the charitable thing to do. ]
ᴀ ᴡᴀsʜ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ?
[ This man looks... completely lost in the laundromat. He understands that people are shoving clothes into these loud machines and eventually getting fresh smelling clothes out of them, but he is struggling to approach them. He hasn't been clean since he started sharing this form with his brother, but a part of him is desperate to wash the dried blood and dirt from his clothes.
He is sitting on a bench, frowning with his brows creased in confusion, hands over his ears to muffled the churning and whirring of the washers and driers. He's watching one of them spin and moves his head gently along with that spinning, trying to decide what to do. He's never had to wash his clothes - he couldn't, back before he died - but even though he's not fond of people, he feels almost embarrassed about his lack of understanding here.
Given the smell of him, it might be to everyone's benefit if someone lends him a hand or two. ]
to the east
He'd picked up a bottle of water a few minutes ago. It's still unopened, nice and cold. He holds it out for the stranger to take. He can get another one. ]
Here.
[ In part, it's an attempt to convey that he means no harm. It's the way he'd have approached his own wary younger self. ]
no subject
He looks at the bottle being offered to him for a long moment before taking it. Unfortunately for everyone involved, he hasn't really ever opened a bottle before. He's watched the nurses do it for him with medicine caps, but he and his brother were often too weak to do even simple tasks like that.
He decides to try and open it, but clearly he's struggling to grip it right here. His fine motor skills are lacking at best after so many years of being... incorporeal and his hands are a bit shaky. He looks pretty frustrated with himself after a few tries. ]
no subject
Setsuna offers his hand again. ]
Don't worry about it. Let me. I'll hand it right back.
no subject
He needs to adapt to this body now that he's doing more than swinging a sword around. He might as well start now. ]
no subject
He offers both bottle and cap right back. ]
It might be a hassle to put the cap back on if your hands are shaking. If you can manage it, it won't be as tough to unscrew a second time.
no subject
He takes the bottle when its handed back, gripping the cap in his fingers so he doesn't drop it. ]
Ah... thank you.
[ He doesn't sound particularly appreciative with his tone rather flat, but he does drink from the bottle almost immediately. He drains half the bottle before he lets out a harsh breath.
He needed that. He isn't sure when the last time was that he had clean water. He wonders if this body is even accustomed to it anymore. ]
They will stop shaking once I eat meat.
[ Or bones or organs or... anything protein-heavy, really. ]
no subject
Suspicious doesn't begin to cover any of this, but there's no choice but to make do with what's available.
Setsuna takes one of the packages, tears it open, and offers it too. ]
Jerky. It's not much, but it should help.
[ Better to try and take care of the shakes before going searching for meat that needs cooking. ]
no subject
Setsuna opens the jerky and a weird scent hits his nose. He takes it in his hands and sticks it under his nose, sniffing at it like a rabbit. He's used to raw meats or bland hospital chicken. At least it smells better than those.
He takes a piece out and rips a piece off with his teeth. He realizes quickly that it feels like chewing... maybe tendon? ]
Chewy...
no subject
It's only obvious that they weren't good. ]
Is it hard to eat?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
ᴀ ᴡᴀsʜ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ?
So she resolves to approach him and see how she can help.]
Hey there.
[The young woman waves to Koriel and then holds up a bottle of liquid detergent.]
Not used to laundry machines?
no subject
When Monts approaches, he tenses, looking unsure of her. He can't understand why people would think he was worth their time. He hardly looks friendly with the constant frown on his face. ]
Laundry machine...
[ He repeats it slowly. It's a foreign enough word for him. ]
No. I have never seen one.
no subject
She pauses so that there is a polite distance between them, sensing that he's on edge.]
Well, that explains why you're just sitting there. No offense, but your clothes definitely need it.
[Just to make sure things are clarified, she adds. ]
I'm not from here either, but I'm used to this sort of thing. Where I'm from, most people have the means to even have a laundry machine in their own home at least so I know how it works.
no subject
Before, the nurses washed them. My clothing and the sheets. I have never done it myself. I just find new coats.
no subject
Just thought I'd offer a helping hand if you'd like. There seem to be some light clothes from here that you can wear while I show you how the machines work.
[she's sure no one's gonna miss a random t-shirt and sweatpants in the meanwhile]
no subject
I suppose it would be better if the smell was gone.
[ So he stands and looks around. ]
I need... to undress. Correct? Where...
Arrival
Just breathe! HNNnnnnnh... Hoooooooooo... Hnnnnh... huuuu... do you want-- some water or-- should I call 999 or... any chest pains...? Crippling anxiety? Mild psychotic break? Crisis of faith...
no subject
What are you talking about? What do you want?
no subject
Nothing! I just-- you look unwell.
no subject
Unwell... has he ever not looked unwell? He wonders. He had been sick so long when he was alive, and his brother's body was in so much pain so often, he's not sure he knows what 'well' is anymore. ]
I am unwell. Probably. Would anyone be well here?
no subject
Would you like to-- sit down or-- could I get you something or-- I mean I'd. [He lowers his gaze and swallows, shrugging with one shoulder.] I'd like to help. If I could.
arrival,
She had seen it before— villages abandoned and left to deteriorate, food spoiled and wasted, buildings eventually left to crumble. So why was everything around them so untarnished? As though there had been people before and now gone.
Shinobu does not linger on the thought for too long— especially after she spots the young man against the wall in a vulnerable position that she had seen only a handful of times in her line of work.
When she approaches she makes sure she's in his periphery, so that if he doesn't notice her yet at least he won't be too startled. She slightly bends at the waist in front of him. The smile on her face is calm, almost transparent with the way she speaks slowly to him.]
Can you hear me? [Quietly.] If you can, could you kindly nod your head for me?
to the east
anyway.
what koriel XIII reminds him of... he seems sick. that's the logical thing robin can assume. maybe he needs medicine? or maybe he could do with a packaged cake or something. sugar could help! sugar always helps. ]
Hey.
[ it's concern that keeps his tone gentle and voice warm, as he holds out some kind of toast pastry. bright pink frosting, some sprinkles, and a faint hint of strawberry emanates from the filling that peeks from little holes beneath. ]
Try this. It always makes me feel better.
oh yes complicated twins unite
He turns his head towards the... very pink person who has called out to him. The few residents of the Tower and City usually ignore him or speak in circles at him. He's not used to all of the attention he's been getting here. There's something soft about him, but he doesn't let his guard drop.
The sweetness of the thing pointing his way is unfamiliar. His brow creases, looking at Robin as if he's got three eyes. ]
What... is it? What is that smell?
looks like the comm is open again...!
[ which means it's healthy. probably? he's had plenty of them in the past and never felt like he was making a poor dietary decision! then again, nowadays... he could eat whatever and not be affected in the slightest. how lucky robin laffite is! ]
If it'll make you feel better, we can split one.
[ breaking it in half, he offers it. ]
I promise... they're tasty! They definitely look better than the ones in the grocery store.