WEEK 1 - MINGLE

[foundationmods]

WEEK 1

You've found a safe haven from the wind and the snow - yet, perhaps you're not quite out of danger yet. The Resort Staff are odd, but seem harmless - jumping to any whim you might have, if it doesn't make them oddly lock up.

The weather all week is perfect - the perfect temp and snow for plenty of skiing. The firepit in the courtyard is always lit too, with ingredients for smores and hot chocolate always available in the lobby. Though...in the halls, a strange bunch of songs keep playing from the hotel's sound system. Is whoever runs this place a weird cover song enthusiast?

So far, everything seems fine....but there's a weird sense of unease lingering over the Resort as everyone wakes up Monday Morning. Maybe that has something to do with that strange memory that popped in your head when you woke up? Or maybe it's that all of you woke up in the middle of a snowstorm, with no memory of how you got there?

In the end...even though everything should be fine, why does it feel like this is only the prelude to a nightmare...?

PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS | MURDER PROPOSALS/VOLUNTEERING | LOCATIONS

MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

Comments

[perfeccion]

How about at the beginning?

[purrtagonist]

[DEEP BREATH, his expression hardening]

I crawled through the vent, thinking it could take me to another area of the resort. Instead, the vent itself turned into soft flesh, and when I emerged. . . it was into a flesh-covered room with a white blood cell inside.

It was shaped like a human, but its entire body was white, and its hat said "esoniphil." When it saw me, it attacked.

[perfeccion]

Let me get this straight. You saw a man. A man all in white... with a hat that said he was some sort of white blood cell. In a fleshy room. [he sounds incredulous] You know, of all the theories I had about this place... the Resort being a living being with an anthropomorphic immune system was not one of them.

[purrtagonist]

[quirks both brows, trying to hide his amusement]

It's kinda coming at us from out of left field, isn't it?

[perfeccion]

Just a bit.

[Szayel pulls his notebook from his pocket and begins to scribble some notes] Can you paint a picture of these "white cells" for me? Aside from the woman, I, ah.... saw her myself. [and her giant cleaver]

[purrtagonist]

Ah. . . sure. I should've taken a picture.

[he was just a little distracted trying not to die]

It was a tall man with short hair and a hate. Every inch of him was white, from his skin to his clothing. He was carrying a knife, and as soon as he realized I was there, he attacked me.

[perfeccion]

[he takes down notes as Akira speaks, nodding] I see... Simple, but effective. [he closes his notebook] So... let's assume the resort is an organism; organisms must eat to survive. [he lets his implication hang]

[purrtagonist]

. . .

[and Akira's gaze narrows at the implication]

How do you think it's eating?

[perfeccion]

Let's just say... I don't think the Guests here ever leave. We need to figure out a way to escape -- sooner, rather than later. I'm not interested in becoming a meal for a fancy ski chalet.