INTRO LOG #1

[collectedmods]

INTRO LOG #1

Welcome to Collected’s first Intro Log! The information we’ve provided about the setting is not exhaustive - feel free to interact with the setting as you see fit. Rather than have specific prompts, our event posts throughout the game will generally have information listed out like this and players may come up with their own prompts.

If you have questions about the setting or the intro log, please ask them HERE in the comment thread! And most of all, have fun, shoppers.

PROMPTS

The first thing anyone does is gasp for air.

It’ll feel like the first breath you’ve taken in years. That’s right; before you can even become aware of your surroundings, the most immediate thing they’ll process is that you’re in water. Foul smelling water - like rotten eggs and decay. It’s pitch black, and you’re swimming in it with only your head above the surface. If the smell doesn’t deter you, the longer you stay in will; the water stings to have on your skin, chemical in nature.

So - you need to get out. This water can’t be okay to stay in. Once you’ve gathered enough about your surroundings, you’ll see that you’re inside a mall, of sorts. There’s a large (non-functioning) escalator in front of you that will lead you to the semi-safe havens of the second floor - but be careful, because everyone’s going to be gunning for that only exit.

» Once on the second floor, exploring will lead you to a few notes of interest: Long windows and tall glass doors show the conditions outside. The sky is a burnt orange, and there is a thick sort of fog on the horizon. Nothing for miles in every direction - just an empty parking lot, completely devoid of life or any sign that anyone has come across this place in many years. Even so, you’ll find the windows and doors unlocked, so getting outside is easy… the problem is what’s out there.

A trip outside will make it instantly clear why you see no life outside the mall’s walls: exposure to the radioactive sun outside causes your skin to bubble with welts, and the thick, toxic air of the outside is impossible to inhale without keeling over. It’s blistering hot, too. Even non-organic creatures would melt or be eroded by the sun’s radioactive qualities. One thing is abundantly obvious: you cannot survive outside. Not now, at least. Those who receive a burn or other damage from the conditions outside will discover that strangely enough, upon returning inside the mall, the wound begins to heal up on its own. Slowly, and extremely painfully, but it’s healing. That’s strange…

» Another thing of note is that there’s a food court on the second floor. There, you’ll find a variety of abandoned restaurants that have varying amounts of non-perishables inside - canned vegetables and preserved meats, as well as dusty old jars of sauces and the like. There are a few walk-in freezers with hefty locks on them, but if the locks are broken or picked, there’s actually some frozen rations, as well! Many of them are not labelled, so the dining experience will be pretty hit or miss. None of the stoves or cooking appliances in the food court work anymore, either, so you’ll have to get creative when it comes to cooking up these ingredients. (Or just, you know, eat them cold.)

» Throughout the mall’s bathrooms, water fountains, and gym showers, you’ll find that all the water in the mall is suspiciously clean. Like, way too clean to be normal in a place as run-down and clearly abandoned as this. You’ll find that toilets flush completely fine, and shower water heats up (eventually). Should you be grateful, or concerned?

» There’s an electronics store on the second floor, as well, along with a internet cafe. Should you try to turn on the computers in the internet cafe, you’ll find that it only opens to the same forum page: a site called Mall Watch. It’ll prompt you to make an account and password if you try posting to it. In the electronics store, you’ll also find that any phone you forage for and try to boot up will also only open up to this forum page. Weird!

» If you’re looking for a place to sleep, the department stores of the mall still have a variety of furniture sets collecting a lot of dust. Then again, no one’s around to tell you where to sleep - and maybe you don’t trust all these new faces you arrived with. If you’re okay sleeping on the floor of a random store, more power to you.

» You’ll probably want to do something about your clothes that were stained by the black water on the first floor.. try foraging for some clothes! Looking around, you’ll find that some clothes stores have some stock left over, though everything’s generally a mess in clothing stores - it’ll take you some time to find anything that’ll fit you. Looking around enough on this second floor, you might end up stumbling across some of your own belongings or clothing, or those of your peers.

More than anything, the longer you explore and scavenge the mall, you’ll recognize how eerily silent it is. If not for you and your peers here, this place would be totally desolate. Clearly, there’s no one around for miles, and as far as you can tell, you’ll only be able to survive here for as long as the supplies here last. No one’s coming to save you - no one even knows you’re here. In every sense of the word, you are alone.

For now.



NAVIGATION

Comments

[oraculi]

One;

[See, the thing is: this was supposed to be over and done with. Waking up in a new environment that's entirely hostile and impossible to escape? Sure, been there, done that, watched a hundred kids go through it plenty. But then the revolution had happened, and one of the key things they'd established was that there'd be no more shit like this.

But here he is.

Who's behind it? Well, who cares, really? There's plenty of time to figure that shit out later. More important: the vitals. Food, water, shelter. The environment is more likely to kill you than your fellow competitors, a voice in the back of his head chimes, and he steadfastly ignores it. He's very good at that.

So: clothing first, and it's not hard to find stuff when you're absolutely not picky. Sooner or later he's got jeans and a shirt, and he's just straight up changing in the store. Not entirely out in the open, he's got his back to a wall, but on the other hand, he really, really doesn't care if anyone sees him.

So there's that to walk in on, a 42 year old man with too many scars on his body abandoning his water-stained old clothes right there on the floor.

He does keep looking up and around curiously. At the corners where ceiling meets wall, or behind the cash registers . . . it's an idle thing, but it's consistent.]

You keep wandering around like that, you're gonna get a knife to the back.

[It's not a threat, but rather idle advice, called out as he sees someone else walk into the store. Dressed now, he smiles, and there's really no humor in it whatsoever.]

Just saying. You seen a flask around here?

Two;

[It's been a long, long time, but he remembers how to start a fire by hand. Which isn't to say it's easy: it takes him nearly an hour to carve out an appropriate firestarter from what used to be a trash bin. And then another half hour to get the damn thing to light, but the important thing is: if you walk into the kitchens, you'll see a man sitting on the floor, back to the wall, a very small fire blazing in front of him. Sterile mall tile isn't ideal for a fire, but on the other hand, it's working wonders to heat up a can of, hm, unidentifiable meat set in a pan.

Sitting might read as nonthreatening to some, but anyone who knows about fighting will see just how tensely those muscles are coiled.

He has a knife in one hand. It's not his knife, but on the other hand, finders keepers, you know? There's also a badge on the floor next to him, though there's always a chance you walk in on him studying it.]

Somebody broke the lock on the freezer, if it's food you're looking for.

[Or take a dusty can; he's already got a fair few shoved into a backpack he'd found. It's packed with a few supplies, some of which are peeking out of the top: two bottles of water, a spare shirt, cans of food . . . and, oddly enough, a very cheap looking hand fan.]

Three;

[It's been about twelve hours since they all woke here. Haymitch leans over the railing on the second floor, peering down into the water below. After a moment, he reaches into his pocket. He's got a few knick-knacks stolen from varying stores, each of them different in terms of material: a broken cell phone, a shirt, a frozen bit of food . . . and he watches carefully as he tosses them into the water, one by one.

He'll do this same process outside, too, tossing things out the door just to see if they fry. It means his hands get burnt to shit, but on the other hand, that's interesting too, that healing factor. It's slow and painful, sure, but it's also useful as shit.]

Huh.

[He's very aware of someone when they come by, and straightens up, looking over at him. But assuming they don't launch into an attack, he says:]

Announcement's gotta come soon.

[Just, like, an idle comment. Hello, how are you, welcome to the Hunger Games Mall Edition. He tugs out the little phone he'd stolen, tapping at it once or twice. Mall Watch isn't particularly useful, but there's got to be more to this than meets the eye.]

Got a name?

Four;

[Wildcard! Combine prompts, make up your own . . . Haymitch is going be a big ole ball of overprepared terse panic all beneath a seemingly calm surface, but he does know what he's doing, sort of, so. Go nuts!]

two!

[lifespanned]

[ Misa's about the opposite of Haymitch when it comes to how she approached the whole "adapting to the knowledge that they really are stuck here." Rather than first look for food and shelter and try to assess the situation, she's spent most of the day so far crying and wandering around confusedly for some sort of sign of a stalker that had put her into this mess. A camera, a ransom note, anything. After many hours, the sick realization that this is something else is starting to set in.

It's only after then that she starts actually trying to look for basic necessities, and that's what leads her to the warm glow of the fire he's set. Thankfully, when she approaches, she at least doesn't smell like the rank waters below the Second Floor. ]

Oh... thank you. [ She replies, a bit meekly, meandering in on her hilariously impractical platform boots. ] I guess we're lucky the freezers are still working.

[ Look on the bright side, right? But she doesn't smile, even during her attempt to make the conversation lighter, merely glancing over at him and his knife. ]

Is there anything good in there?

[oraculi]

Grey meat and fried chicken, mostly.

[Will he eat fast food hamburgers? He absolutely will, but also, objectively, it's not great quality. Also: hey, good god, how Capitol can you get, girl. It's objectively not her fault, it's not like they were prepped for this, but also.]

It's all edible, though. Pick something out, find a pan. You can thaw it if you want.

[He very much does not see her as a threat.]

[lifespanned]

[ At that, she cannot help but grimace a bit... because ew, who-knows-how-old meat and fried chicken. She's aware that she'll have to eat it if she has no other choice, but that doesn't mean she'll be happy about it. ]

This is so gross... [ From the looks of things, this guy is way better prepared to deal with this than she is, also given by the fact he's already buckled down and decided to cook the damn stuff. But she still feels her complaints will be seen as valid! Because who wouldn't be disgusted by this? ] I mean, what if we all get sick from eating this stuff!

[ That's probably the least of her worries, given the circumstances, but she still finds it in her to complain. Nonetheless, she's still opening up the freezer while she says so, though she's wary to turn her back to him. She stays half turned into the freezer, keeping him in her peripheral - just enough to see his lifespan. ]

You're not even scared to eat that...?

two

[firelords]

⟪ It's the smell of mystery meat that draws Azula in. After the first shock subsided, and with new, if arguably terrible clothes on her back (it's a t-shirt and sweatpants, not the end of the world), she's resolved to look into another budding problem: hunger. For her last meal in the palace, she had had some cherries until one of her servants had decided to try to murder her with one. A couple missed meals by choice aren't anything to cry about, but as much as she looks like she's not slept a full night in a while, she also looks like someone who is at least used to eating very regularly. So this is uncharted territory.

The man preparing the meat doesn't look like a cook. For one, because he's sitting on the floor and lit a fire there, and for another, because he looks more like a soldier ready to jump for the kill. Her own muscles tense, even as her stomach growls. The knife he holds? Big threat. Not because it's a knife, but because he doesn't hold it like an idiot. This guy's either stabbed someone before, or has at least spent plenty of time practicing. She's just been in an Agni Kai for her life (at least, that was her plan), and she no longer feels the boost to her bending Sozin's comet had brought with it – she's confident enough that she could still take him, but she's also exhausted and doesn't want to push it. All she has gathered so far are these clothes and a golden pin with a bird on it, currently stored away in the pocket of her pants. Currency was the thought behind that one.

But he directs her to the freezer, and while she doesn't turn her back on him, she does shuffle on over to look into that.

And slams the door shut again very quick, not setting a single foot inside. Freezer? Wasn't named that for nothing. It's cold enough to subdue her bending. ⟫

That's a deathtrap. ⟪ Oh look, voice still works. She even manages to sound condescending! Still, no food, only Militia Man, his crappy fire, piles of dusty-looking metal cylinders, and a bag that she knows she's not touching unless she wants to figure out what he can do with that knife.

Back to the little metal cylinders and the cheery, if faded pictures on them. He can watch the realisation that the food is in them in real time, and she grabs one off a shelf, feet shifting as if she's ready to fight for it, should he view that as an infringement on his claim.

Now what?

That's another line of thought he can basically see once the initial triumph of acquisition fades. In the end, she decides to join him on the floor. Maybe if she watches him long enough, she'll figure out how to get the food out of its prison.

As a sign of her extremely benevolent goodwill, his fire burns a little higher. ⟫

[oraculi]

[Ah. Some of the others seem to be floundering, but not everyone can be new at this kind of thing. In a way, it's comforting: at least with someone clearly competent, he knows where he stands. His gaze follows her as she moves about, and there's a slight smirk on his lips as she declares that (he just thinks she means that he might shove her in and lock her, which sure would kill her regardless).

But it's not until she sits that he relaxes. Not entirely, but minutely, at least confident she's more worried about eating than drawing blood.

It's soon pretty clear she has no idea how to open that tin. He watches her at it for a while anyway, amusement clear in his gaze. It's funny, okay! It's funny, let him have this.

But finally:]

Give it here.

[An order, not a request. Not a bid for power, but rather a simple age thing. He's used to bossing people near her age around.]

[firelords]

⟪ Of course he's smiling, she thinks, he is the one with the knife, she would bet the stupid tin would give right in with a few well-placed jabs – but no bristling and no glaring in the world is going to magically help her here, is it?

If anything, she seems to grow even more irate when he has the nerve to order her around, and she looks good and ready to lay into him. In fact, she starts – ⟫

What kind of address is that?

⟪ But the tension drains out of her as quickly as it has come. He evidently has no idea who she is, and frankly, she's not convinced telling him would spontaneously make him more cooperative. She's tired and she's hungry and he at least seems to have the means to get these damned tins open.

The can rolls over to him without further comment. ⟫

one

[regnum]

[ Once upon a time, maybe Historia’d have pretended to be scared. Maybe she’d have shrunk into a corner or brandished a shard of broken glass in her defense. As it stands now, though, she barely has it in her to look at Haymitch, much less pay his unsolicited advice any mind. ]

So? I’m not going to sit there and wait to be rescued.

[ She’ll take her chances up here—not down on the first floor, where her height makes keeping her head above water almost impossible.

Her eyes flit from his neck to his shoulders, then to his sides. For someone who’s been pottering about the mall himself, Haymitch’s back is surprisingly knife-free. ]

You made it just fine.

[oraculi]

So far.

[What a dour little thing to say about one's own life expectancy, but it's also true. He shrugs.]

So what are you gonna do, then? Since you're so forward thinking.

[regnum]

[ ‘Forward-thinking,’ he says. That trips Historia up. She’s torn between arguing the point and pushing past it altogether so that she can properly answer his question.

She eventually resigns herself to the latter with a hang of her head. ]

… I don’t know.

[ But a forward-thinker would know what to do. They’d have a plan and the initiative to see it through. Historia has neither, so she has to rely on what feels right. ]

I know I don’t want to run and hide, though. So I’m going to fight.

three

[teaserving]

[By now, Abbacchio's showered and found new clothes to put on, and it definitely looks like he's raided the Hot Topic for what it was worth. He isn't thrilled about any of this, but then honestly Abbacchio isn't sure what he's feeling, considering all of the combining circumstances.

For a moment, he'd been watching this man throwing shit around to see what would happen. Fair, reasonable; there are different ways to investigate what the hell is going on.

Abbacchio has a compact mirror out and he's applying some lipstick, because even in a shit situation he's not going to look like garbage if he can help it.]

Announcement?

[Mirror shuts and he arches a brow.]

You first.

[oraculi]

Well, I assume whoever brought us here didn't just do it to give us a vacation. Sooner or later they're gonna say what they want us to do, because what's the point otherwise?

[He shrugs. He assumes they've all been put here to kill each other, but who knows? Maybe this is just a weird lab rat situation. Maybe they're all meant to slowly starve to death. Who can say? And not knowing makes for boring viewing, thus: an announcement.]

Haymitch Abernathy.

[If he notices the Hot Topic fashion (he absolutely does), he doesn't mention it. Chase your bliss, bud.]

[teaserving]

Damn, and here I thought waking up in fucked up water was my spa treatment.

[Honestly, he isn't sure what they're here for, but it definitely seems like a probable kidnapping. Then again, Abbacchio has his own theories based on his personal investigation.]

Leone Abbacchio.

two

[knifegf]

[ the smell of smoke and meat draws her in as she scouts out this part of the mall. she thinks maybe finding something to eat, even if it's junk food, will go a long way. at the moment she has an odd flat sword craddled under one of her arms, the best she can do for a weapon at the moment. there's also a knife tucked away in one of her jacket pockets, though no one needs to know about that. however her eyes bulge like a deer in the headlights as she observes her surroundings, looking more lost and innocent than what brews underneath her.

she sees the man before he talks and when he addresses her she smiles thinly, shy. there is no step taken to approach him, comfortably distanced away. ]

Thank you. [ she looks down at the meat he cooks, sniffing. that meat looks disgusting. she wants it. ] Could I have some?

[oraculi]

[He's good, but she's a professional-- and so he falls for the act, easy as anything.]

Nope.

[That said: he's still an asshole.]

But there's plenty of cans, if you wanna help yourself. Can't say as to how it tastes, but it's at least edible.

[knifegf]

[ she nods and approaches, steps careful as she comes over to sit across from him. the sword is laid down by her side as she reaches for a can not yet opened. her lips twist into a frown and she reaches into her jacket for the knife she found. a knife haymitch will certainly be familiar with since its his. ]

It feels like I haven't eaten in days. This meat smells divine.

three

[scrambledegg]

[Observing things being tossed out into that hazardous environment out there is about the closest he can get to doing something right now, which is why he'd been watching Haymitch for a bit. Eggman's a tall guy, and while he's definitely rotund a lot about his build does suggest there's strength behind it. Despite that, he doesn't seem to be quietly observing Haymitch to try and assassinate him, especially given how casually he responds the moment he's addressed.]

Dr.Eggman. [It's an alias.] What's this about an announcement?

[He doesn't ask for a name in return, mostly because he doesn't care.]

[oraculi]

[You know what, he'll take the lack of assassination attempt. He really will. The bar is truly that low.]

I figure sooner or later whoever brought us here is gonna tell us why. I'm bettin' it'll come by the end of the day, but maybe not.

[He studies him, then glances out to where he can see some of the others.]

Hell of an assortment they brought, too.

[scrambledegg]

I could've done without being part of an assortment.

[As if anybody else wants to be here. Honestly though? He's just like that.

But it is what it is. He approaches Haymitch, but rather than turn his attention to the others all around the mall he's looking outside, hands behind his back.]

I wouldn't mind if you were right, though. Meeting our captors would mean I could put a face to the people I'm going to annihilate.

three!

[ultimatums]

[ Raylan, who rescued his boots from certain death after innocently tossing them outside to dry them off, has been literally burned before when it comes to sticking any part of his body outside. Even though his arms have healed up perhaps strangely quickly by now, he's not about to start doing it again in the name of science, or whatever the hell this is. That doesn't mean he can't watch, though. ]

Raylan, [ he says automatically as he cruises to a stop nearby now he's been engaged in conversation, one hand wedged against his hip. There's very little chance anyone knows his family name around here, which has been made abundantly clear simply by virtue of the ragtag group of weirdos who are also stuck here, but he's being economical all the same. ] You talkin' about word from whoever put us here? Or d'you think some other idiot is gonna get sick of bouncin' off the walls of the Hot Topic over there and declare themselves Mall Sheriff?

[oraculi]

[He snorts, because that right there is pretty much his sense of humor, well done Raylan.]

The former, but you know, I wouldn't be too shocked if we saw the latter too. People get a little stir crazy when they get trapped in one place.

[He tosses a sneaker outside, smiling thinly as it hisses and dissolves.]

You're pretty calm. You been through something like this before?

two;

[iblistriggered]

[clean and with fresh socks to wear with his boots pilfered from the department store, Silver is now addressing the next most important survival item -- food. The food court seems like a good, if obvious, place to start.

But he smells smoke, and follows the scent, only to find a somewhat grouchy looking human sitting by a small fire]

Ah...! He got a fire started?

[Silver isn't hiding per se, but he is peeking around a corner at the man and his fire]

[oraculi]

[His first thought, honestly, is that it's a mutilated child. He's seen people with animalistic features plenty of times, just never so small.]

He did, yeah.

[He tips his head, staring doubtfully at the boy.]

C'mere.

three

[oomfies]

[ Lottie's just a tad late to witness any experimenting (a la tossing things outside, inside, getting burned and getting stitched back together again), but she does pass by when he makes that comment. She tightens the straps of her backpack, adjusts the glasses perched on her nose before replying back. ]

I'm Lottie, Lottie Person.

[ And as much as she wants to ask about the announcement - because she's convinced this is the beginning of a horror movie, it's too complicated, too contrived - or that phone, she asks after a strained beat of silence, ]

Hey! This is gonna sound weird, but.. Do you recognize me?

[oraculi]

Nope.

[He shoves his hands in his pockets, eyeing her.]

But I bet you're used to people saying yes, right? You some kinda celebrity or something?

[He's not saying it to be spiteful. He's saying it because it's rare people don't at least vaguely recognize him, in a pathetic sort of way, and yet not a single person has. He's not the only one, either, and it's weird.]

I bet if you told me where you're from, I wouldn't know it either.