Phantasmal Rift Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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phantasmalrift2018-06-10 11:47 pm
phantasmods) wrote in phantasmalrift2018-06-10 11:47 pm
Entry tags:
IC INTRO - JUNE '18
After the fight with the siren has settled, those characters with phones hooked to the KEystone network will get a text -
Okay, everyone, you had better come back in. There's a storm brewing just off the coast.
Even given Up's usual professionalism, it seems rather... subdued?
----
For once, there are no androids at all to greet you upon your return, or arrival, as the case may be. A shelter has been set up for the boats on the shoreline of Glitterstone, however. By the time you tromp up the lighthouse stairs to the level of the Station itself, the sky is beginning to grey with the promised storm.
There's not the typical feast outside, but there is a fairly extensive taco bar set up in the common room, left unattended as well. The room sign-up sheet and boxes of freebies are also there, complete with the Braille versions, and a note at the bottom of both room sheets reads "If all rooms are full, space has been made in the meeting rooms on the top floor. We'll have additional rooms available as soon as possible."
It does appear that someone has updated the murder counter while you were away, however, for the turning of the week. It now reads 15 weeks without murder.
Other than that, you're free to explore, including in the newly finished sections of the Annex (should you be willing to brave the storm to get between buildings). However, wherever you go, the androids are almost conspicuously absent - even in the medical bay and Down's workstation in the command center.
The meeting room they have for their own private use is securely closed and locked.
Okay, everyone, you had better come back in. There's a storm brewing just off the coast.
Even given Up's usual professionalism, it seems rather... subdued?
----
For once, there are no androids at all to greet you upon your return, or arrival, as the case may be. A shelter has been set up for the boats on the shoreline of Glitterstone, however. By the time you tromp up the lighthouse stairs to the level of the Station itself, the sky is beginning to grey with the promised storm.
There's not the typical feast outside, but there is a fairly extensive taco bar set up in the common room, left unattended as well. The room sign-up sheet and boxes of freebies are also there, complete with the Braille versions, and a note at the bottom of both room sheets reads "If all rooms are full, space has been made in the meeting rooms on the top floor. We'll have additional rooms available as soon as possible."
It does appear that someone has updated the murder counter while you were away, however, for the turning of the week. It now reads 15 weeks without murder.
Other than that, you're free to explore, including in the newly finished sections of the Annex (should you be willing to brave the storm to get between buildings). However, wherever you go, the androids are almost conspicuously absent - even in the medical bay and Down's workstation in the command center.
The meeting room they have for their own private use is securely closed and locked.
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So, real important question for you here, super fucking serious.
[Jail asks, with an expression of grave and terrible solemnity:]
Would you get it if I tried to flirt with you by making a joke involving the word 'horny', or does whatever translation shit that's going on here not cover puns?
[JAIL NO.]
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[Not that she's got any great high ground on that front, but. It's the principle of the thing.]
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[She leans back in the water a little, slipping down in her seat with a sigh. It's been a long night, and a long week, although at least she's not as exhausted as she'd been in the aftermath of the forest fissure.]
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[Aaand she accompanies this with a wink. Jail, why.]
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It's Jetshard. You got one, or should I just call you "determined?"
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[At least she's finally met an adult who has something like a proper troll title?]
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Not that she's inclined to turn this conversation to such things. Not at the moment.]
I'll take that under advisement. It's good to have options.
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Oh, I give fucking fantastic advice.
[This is a lie.]
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Yep, I'm a bastion of wisdom. I got all kinds of secret techniques and cunning strategies that'd tell me what species you're from. There's this one super fucking devious one I call... asking.
By the way, what species are you?
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I'm a troll.
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Huh, neat. Like the horns, very stylish. I'm a human, but I get the feeling you've probably seen us around by now. We get around like that.
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