bluesclues | WEEK ZERO WELCOME MINGLE - OVERFLOW, YOU MONSTERS

WELCOME

Even from behind your eyelids, the soft glowing light can be seen as you find yourself awakening. The slow swell of strings begins, and as you struggle to open your eyes, the sound of footsteps pass you by. You soon hear three feminine voices speak in unison.

"Master Blue wishes to welcome you all. We hope you enjoy your stay!"

Light temporarily blinds you as you look around, but the source of the voices has vanished. Whomever has greeted you seems to have disappeared without warning, leaving you all alone.

The music starts up and though no orchestra is present, the song can be heard all throughout the room. Crystal chandeliers hang above your head, and the waxed wooden floor gleams brightly. Floor to ceiling windows cover the back wall and a night sky full of stars twinkle back at you. The wall next to it, however, is covered by a thick crimson curtain. Those who attempt to move it will find they have little luck in their endeavor, but there are more pressing matters at hand.

Looking down you'll come to notice that you're wearing clothes that certainly aren't what you were previously wearing. You, and the guests around you, have been dressed appropriately in formal attire properly fitted for each individual.

Oh. That's right. Didn't we mention the other guests? Seated to your left, right, and across from you at the long banquet table are other people just like you. Perhaps it's a friend you know, though don't be surprised if it's a complete stranger. Each individual holds a blue and silver invitation with their name scrawled upon it, and a message to follow.

"Please respond to Master Blue's invitation at least one week prior to the event to secure your seat and accommodations.

This dinner is guaranteed to be an event to die for."

Strange, isn't it?

But rest assured! Nothing is stopping you from leaving the ballroom and exploring the other rooms of Master Blue's home. After all, you're an honored guest! It's with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that you're welcomed here tonight. Really, what's your hurry? It's not as though the front door will open for you. Don't bother with the windows either. They've all been locked tight to ensure you're all nice and cozy for your stay.

If you look under your seat, you'll find a special gift bag with your name on it. Opening these bags will reveal the following:

-A small spiral notebook
-A crayon in a specific shade of blue
-Three different candles
-A brass key (Design May Vary.)
-This cute toy

A welcome gift from the Master, of course.

Take some time to admire the decor, if you will. The house has been decorated for this special holiday with chains of paper hearts, miniature golden cupid statues, and confetti that rains down from the ceiling on occasion. Perhaps you'll get lucky tonight with love in the air, especially since Cupid's arrow seems to aim for you no matter where you go. For those of you who don't wish to partake in the lavish feast spread out in the ballroom, you're in luck. Boxes of chocolate and bowls of candy hearts can be found for all your snacking needs.

As the unseen orchestra plays on, it seems as though you've no choice but to get to know your fellow guests and make yourselves comfortable. Perhaps if you wait long enough, someone will come to greet you.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[from here!]

[hmm, gross! hate it! please never mention this to a man called Van Grants, it will probably give him ideas!]

Hmph. And I thought you were just talking about bad weather.

[He turns back towards the cutting board, cutting a tomato into thin, even slices. At first, it seems like he's just gone and ignored her completely, but he follows up. Maybe he's just okay to turn his back, now. Or maybe he just doesn't want the tomato to oxidize.]

Where do you figure in all of that.

[Oh. Well, he's not asking her to leave. Maybe just getting the topic off him is what helped...? He seemed so tense.]

Nothing that interesting, I'm afraid. I'm part of the staff of a research base. Most of the work the main scientist does is focused on fields such as genetics, physics, cybernetics... and a lot of the projects in the base are based heavily on those sorts of sciences.

I... don't usually get very involved, unfortunately. I'm not really, um, made for that sort of work. But I do have my medical license, so I try to be as supportive as I can. Accidents can happen, and having someone on site for emergencies can really help.

You're part of the staff on a research base, but you weren't initially hired as a scientist, or necessarily as a medical worker?

[Finished with slicing, he starts to dice the remainder of the tomato into cubes. Cut, cut, cut.]

So why are you there? What's your role?

[He dumps the cubed tomatoes into a bowl, with some waiting lettuce.]

You're being obtuse.

[:( :(]

I-I'm not trying to be, I'm sorry... Medical staff would be about right.

...

You... um... don't care much for idle explaination, I take it.

Why would anyone care for vagaries over details?

[He exhales, pushing hair out of his eyes. He needed to find a tie for it somewhere.]

How did you end up in the... what did you call it? The project. A game?

[He scowls at a sudden thought, but says nothing. Instead, he reaches for uno chicken, and starts silently carving it.]

It... paints a better picture for some, I guess.

[At the additional questions, she goes oddly silent for a long moment, nearly missing that change of expression.]

...I don't know. All of the players were drugged before arriving, so no one remembered how they got there, or who took them. It was similar to what's happening here, to be honest. [She grips her arms tightly, her gaze falling to the floor.] It... all feels like a bad dream.

For simpletons, maybe.

[The silence goes on far too long for Luna to hope she's getting away with it.]

Hmph. You're not telling me everything. [It's more a passing comment than anything. He'd hardly expect her to, but there's so much left out here, only a fool would miss it.] And how does a "medical professional" get drugged so easily?

[She visibly slumps, as though he had just hit her across the face.

Ah. This all feels painfully familiar.]

...

My best guess is amnestic gas. It's used by the military for things like rioting, or in severe medical cases where injection would not be safe.

[Out of the corner of his eye, he catches it, but says nothing. Hm.]

Amnes--?

[Please hold.]

Are you saying you have a military and medical-graded gas that causes amnesia? [Wow your planet fucking sucks!!!]

[Cut, cut, cut. It's nearly chicken sandwich time over here y'all]

In large doses, yes. It's called Soporil. Most of the time it just acts as a very, very string anesthetic.

[Gross]

If it's high-grade, then there can't be that many people who had access to it.

[vis a vis]

You must know who did it.

W-what? [WHY DID THIS TURN INTO AN INTERROGATION ABOUT HER LIFE...]

Why would you say something like that? I was just making an educated guess...

[He slides the chicken to the side, and wipes his hands off on a kitchen cloth, looking over his shoulder as he does.]

You haven't denied it either.

[Instead, she'd stuttered.]

Calm down. It's not like I said it was you.

Would you think I'd be talking about it at all if it was? What else am I supposed to think you meant...?[There's a genuine twist of deep hurt, her voice quiet.]

...

I'm sorry. I suppose this was a mistake.

[Hm.]

I meant that you must know who had access to the supplies to have drugged you.

[...]

This whole place is a mistake. No one you find is going to be happy to be here, or to talk to you. If it's not hell, it's close.

[Wow way to voice the worst thoughts she has, Asch. Her heart sinks to her stomach, and her voice starts to clip with a hint of ice in her emotion, despite how soft it still sounds on the air]

No. I guess not.

...

I'll... still try, though. So many people are confused, or angry. Rightfully so. Many think they were kidnapped. But... if not...

...

When I saw you, I had thought you might have... um... understood. How... horrifying this place is. But I guess I was wrong. That was my fault.

I didnt even ask your name.

...

[She stiffens with a short bow of her head.]

I'll leave you to your dining. Please feel free to reach out with medical concerns. I apologize for wasting your time.

WEEK ZERO WELCOME MINGLE - OVERFLOW, YOU MONSTERS

OVERLY CONCERNED LADY

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IT IS A COOKED CHICKEN!!!

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I mean anesthetic but you know what this still works!

mobile tagging sucks text it

i hate my phone so much

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