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]

There were human remains found in room 105, apparently. I looked closely at the guest book -- we all signed it. Additionally, there were a few strange signatures; Nue, an oily fingerprint, and a moose's hoof, and the number 34. A few names a while back were blacked out. Asking the staff about it seemed to scramble their processors.

[purrtagonist]

I found the remains.

[yeup he sure was there for that]

It was a bag of bones stuffed in a closet. Male, about five to six months old.

[according to Medic, to whom Akira glances briefly]

. . . I think they're the remains of a person who was killed here long before we arrived.

[perfeccion]

From multiple gunshot wounds, no less.

[purrtagonist]

Yeah.

[folds his arms, tapping his fingers against his arm]

But who pulled that trigger?

[perfeccion]

Hard to say. It might be a bit easier if we could get our hands on the murder weapon.

[purrtagonist]

Or if the guest book didn't have certain names blacked out.

[perfeccion]

That too. Not that the recordkeeping here is immaculate...

[purrtagonist]

But if parts of it weren't purposefully redacted, we might be able to learn something.

[latebluemer]

Of course they have a guest book. I don't remember signing anything like that.

[There's an indignant huff, of all the things -- blizzard, being put into winter clothes, all the bodies and mayhem -- this one sticks with her a little. Not remembering signing something isn't a good thing. It's really not a good thing when it's someplace you're trapped in.]

But I know where the oily fingerprint probably came from. There's a creature made of oil that likes to sleep in the jacuzzi. So... those might be current guests, but they're not in our tablets.

[Great.]

[perfeccion]

I only vaguely recall signing... something, after we stumbled into the snow. I asked the next day. It's definitely my signature.

[that piques his curiosity and he quirks an eyebrow] A creature made of oil... hanging out in water? What did it look like?

[latebluemer]

... I should probably check the guest book.

[Maybe she’d be able to learn more about guests not in their little group, too.]

The creature... looked like just oil, until it woke up. Then it took all the oil with it. It was weird, because it was like it was invisible apart from the oil.

[perfeccion]

They'll show it to you, no questions asked.

Bizarre... an invisible being coated in oil? Where on Earth does something like that even come from?

[latebluemer]

That's kind of surprising. Are there any dates, or just... the signatures? Because there's definitely strange things about the dates and everything here.

[To put it very... very mildly.]

And I mean... where did we all come from? Probably none of the other guests came here in an ordinary way, either.

[Or maybe she's just trying to find order in a chaotic universe.]