dreamsland | day zero

dreamland day zero

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[You wake up in a temporary barracks set up behind an amusement park. The weather is chilly but pleasant, and there aren't any lines for the rides - in fact, it seems you have this place to yourself. The entire park appears to have been abandoned some years ago, and though everything is in working order, it is overgrown with plants and seems rusted and unsafe.

As for you, something has happened, though you aren't sure what. There's a throbbing pain in your head, and you can't focus, as though you're coming off heavy pain medications. However you think you should look, you look like a human now. Under the bandages wrapped around your temple, old and smelling like blood, you'll find a recently stitched up scar wound and the inability to focus on your memories. You have no knowledge of how you came to be here; you may even have forgotten certain aspects of your life, or feel confused about them. The fact of your missing memories is obvious, a dark blank spot. Under the bandages around your wrist, you'll find a brightly colored bracelet, decorated with the face of the smiling cartoon animal on your wall, embedded into your flesh. It beeps a merry tune and welcomes you to DreamLand Fun Park. Just then, a voice comes over the loudspeaker.]

"Good morning to all of our new guests! The park is now open! We'll get started later, but for now, have a magical day with your new friends! Oh, and there may be a few nasty side effects to your medical condition. If you meet someone having trouble adjusting to reality, please be polite!"

[In your room, you'll find a small box containing several personal items - no weapons, magical items, or technology advanced beyond the early 21st century, and nothing dangerous, but otherwise anything you would ordinarily find on your person is there. Of course, nothing with cell reception or internet connectivity can manage to pick up a signal.

If you swipe your bracelet against the steel door, it unlocks. You may now explore your accommodations, or venture out into the park.]

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This is an IC mingle covering the first day! Night roles will go up Monday at 4 PM EST, but you are welcome to continue to thread here once that happens. Make sure to follow any updates on plurk!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He raises his head to stare at her (what is she photographing his equations for?) before he speaks, his voice a low murmur:]

Er, well. It's...calculations. Permutations. Trying to figure out...how something, someone, like me, gets from point "A" to point "B"...

[ for reasons. it's what she does. ] Other than flying, walking, swimming? Of course, I suppose only one is relevant right now.

No, no, not like that... [He lets out a huff, shaking his head. Of course, he didn't expect she would entirely understand.]

This place is not like the place I was in before. To get from that place to here is...more complicated, more complicated than just a walk.

[ be patient with her...! ] I don't think this place is like anywhere any of us had been before. But you have a point. One does not simply walk out of this park, it seems.

[Another huff, but it seems a little more amused this time - his mouth quirks upward, as if attempting a smirk.]

No. No, one can't. But my city, my home...it is not so easy to leave, you see. It's very, um, isolated. In fact.

How so, exactly? Our kidnappers must be truly talented, to be able to capture so many of us and from such faraway places.

The common belief among the people is that, well, there is more than just our city. But there...there really isn't. I mean, there is the Country, but that is a last resort, the last resort...

[He pushes a few strands of unruly dark hair out of his eyes.]

Which is why I'm trying to calculate how it can be possible. These kidnapers...they have done something I thought would be impossible. Truly fascinating, really.

[ jotting down notes--it's a journalist thing. nbd, just an impromptu interview, as you will. ]

I'm not sure I understand--obviously, I'm not from the same city or country or possibly even world that you are. But I'd like to hear more about where you're from, if you don't mind. There's only one city, one country?

The city is named Cloudbank. The Country is...the Country.

[He stares at her as she scribbles in her notebook. Meeting people who don't know about his city is odd, to say the least.]

I mean, there's Fairview Park, yes, but that's...a part of the city. Outside, there's nowhere to go.

[ this is all as alien to her as it is to him, likely! ] Nowhere at all? As in, outside is simply wilderness, or...?

Not wilderness, just...blankness, I guess that's the word.

[A pause as he stares back at his calculations.]

It's not very certain, honestly. Nobody has really checked...even the records of our history are...vague, to say the least.

That does sound odd. I'd expect there would be at least a few adventurers or journalists who'd want to investigate and discover the truth for themselves.

[He lets out a huff.]

How does the saying go...? "Ignorance is bliss"?

Perhaps, but how about 'the truth will set you free'?

Hmm. That is...easier said than done. The people are...stubborn, to say the least. You try to influence one variable, try to introduce them to something that will change their lives permanently, and they, well, they reject it.

That's sadly understandable. But you definitely seem like a fellow truth-seeker to me.

And I don't suppose you happen to be speaking of some specific 'variable' in particular.

Many variables. [A pause, as he puffs away.] I'm an architect, you see. Or well, I was. The profession grew...frustrating, after a while.

Edited 2014-09-21 14:44 (UTC)

Fascinating! I'm a journalist, if you haven't gathered already. Nice to meet you, Mr. Architect.

Frustrating because of the people, or because of the math problems?

Royce. You can call me Royce.

[A journalist? He raises an eyebrow. It reminds him of Asher, really, though Asher was far more mellow about his investigations.]

The people. They always wanted something new. They were...never satisfied. Never satisfied at all.

Aya Shameimaru. A pleasure, Mr. Royce.

And I think I know the feeling. Hazards of the job. In my case, I keep getting shot at whenever I'm trying to interview or photograph someone for a story.

Shot at?

[Sorry, calculations, he can look at you in a bit, he's going to turn his stare towards her instead.]

Your job was that dangerous?

It's a journalist's duty to pursue the truth, no matter what the danger is!

... Also, they aren't usually fatal shots. Not to worry!

...What, exactly, were you investigating?

[Because that does not at all sound like the journalism where he comes from, which focuses on things like the new flavors of flatbread at Junction Jan's or the latest vote by the Administrators.]

[ <-- not a shifty journalist at all or is she. ]

I cover all sorts of stories. Flowers blooming in abundance out of season, the arrival of a new shrine and goddesses to my home, the occasional puff piece... I'd offer you a paper if I had any copies on me.

[...Huh.]

I still...I don't understand why people would shoot at you for stories such as, well, those. And...goddesses?

(no subject)

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