collectedlogs | INTRO LOG #1

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Then you've got the right idea, right from the start. You done this before?

[It's not a rhetorical question, but he breezes right along, leaving it open whether the guy wants to circle back around to it or not. It doesn't really matter whether he has or not; what matters is that they're all in it now, isn't it?]

Yeah. There's one I'm looking for, but I haven't seen him yet. Short little guy, brown hair, big blue eyes. Doesn't talk much and looks like he hasn't eaten in a week. You haven't spotted him, have you?

Sure, I've definitely woken up in black water with an apocalyptic sun outside ready to burn me to death before. I'm practiced.

[Definitely a non-answer from Abbacchio.]

Doesn't sound familiar. Only bumped into a couple of people, though, so who knows if he's here.

Great! Then I'll just follow your lead. Hey, is it a bad idea to walk into the hell abyss? I really wanted to get some work done on my tan.

[He folds up the map, pocketing it along with the pencil, and heads inside to rummage while they talk. In part, it's to see if the guy sticks around to continue the conversation, or if he bails the instant the door isn't implicitly blocked anymore.

Either way, he'll learn something from it.]

You see a pack of hair ties anywhere in here?

No tan, just agonizing burning pain. So, I don't really recommend it.

[What's weirder is that Abbacchio healed from the damage done once he got inside the mall, but not while he was outside. And Silver made a good point that there wasn't any natural life out there. No bird, no insects. No plants, even.

Wherever they are, the mall is providing them protection. And an ability to survive somehow.

Not that he shares any of this.]

Yeah. There are a few bins by the register that have some packs. Too many rainbows for me.

Hey, if it gets the job done, you won't hear me complain about it.

[He means the hair ties, presumably, as he trots over to rummage around in the trinket bins. They're gross and filled with as much dirt and rubbish as they are anything useful, but after a minute he laughs and pulls something out, holding it in the palm of his hand. After a moment of examination, he hooks a finger through the ring at the end of its chain and spins it around and around before lightly tossing it in the guy's direction.

If he catches it, or if he doesn't, either way he'll see that it's a battered old keychain.]

Good news! Now we can wish our way out of here.

[The keychain is caught and he stares at it for a moment as this guy gives him a whole new world. Abbacchio does snort, dangling it from a finger.] Thank fuck. Maybe I can wish for a bottle of something to drink, too.

[Sobriety, the true nightmare.]

Gives us one last wish.

So what's your usual poison? Please say "poison".

[He laughs, going back to digging through the bin until he finds a package of noxious neon-colored hair ties.]

Wait, no, let me guess. Not beer...definitely not champagne...not vodka. Whiskey? Mm, nah. Gin. You look like a gin man to me.

If wine's a poison, then that's my poison. I can tolerate other shit if I get desperate, though.

[The lamp keychain is tossed over his shoulder. This guy is kind of annoying, but at least he can put up with him for the time being. Not that Abbacchio has any reason to stay; he's found what he's generally needed.

Last stop is finding somewhere to sleep.]

Guess your eyes suck. But hey, maybe there are glasses around here.

Pretty hard to see out of wine glasses.

[He laughs, abandoning the trinket bins to start shopping around for clothes. If it's salvageable, he takes it, regardless of whether it'd fit him or not; you just never know, in a place like this. It's pretty easy to tie a big shirt together into a makeshift pack, which he does neatly and efficiently — like he's done something similar before.]

Lucky you, I found me a bottle earlier. If you're nice to me, maybe I'll share.

Better than being blind.

[The mention of the bottle gets his attention. Is he that desperate? Maybe. After everything he's dealt with, it'd be nice to get shitfaced after all this time. He'd played nice for Buccellati for the most part, but he wants to chase it down now.

It's not like he has anything left to lose.]

I'm not gonna pamper you. What do you want for it?

And I'm not a charity. What've you got to offer?

[It's be interesting to know what all he's got in those bags. Doubly interesting to know what he'd be willing to do for a mouthful of booze.

Which piece of information is more useful, in the end? Well, now, that's really the question, isn't it.]

I don't know what kind of shit you want for it. For all I know, you'll lose your mind over a cashmere sweater, or maybe you want a fucking pizza for it.

[It's a very non-answer, although that's on purpose. For as much as he wants the wine, Abbacchio is less inclined to share that he found a goddamn gun, especially since he doesn't know anything about this man.]

Name your price or don't waste my time.

Yeah, and I'd be willing to bet you ain't got either in those bags of yours.

[Interesting. He's cagey, this one. Knows better than to say too much. But he's willing to bet that the dismissiveness is a boast. It's forcing his hand to actually put something on the table to anchor the negotiation, which is smart. But this guy isn't about to walk away from his drink entirely.]

Fine, then. How about this? I want to get set up here as much as you do. So, we stick together until we've both got the basics taken care of, and then we have a drink to celebrate?

[For as much as Abbacchio doesn't trust him, it really just boils down to his attitude. It's flippant, but more than how much Mista usually let things roll of his back. Mostly because Mista wasn't arrogant about it.

But truly, there's no specific reason for it. Just his instinct. Abbacchio lets out a breath and shrugs.]

Fine. Works for me.

[That's enough to have a drink. Numb things out at least for a night. Better than nothing.]

I found some showers in the gym, so we have running water. Surprisingly clean, too. Beyond that, we're probably better off scrounging for food in the food court and sorting out a fire without bringing the whole building down. I know someone that could probably help with that part, though.

Oh, yeah? You meet a boy scout around here or something?

[From the moment the plan locks into place, though, Schuldig's rummaging shifts from frivolous to briskly efficient; he abandons the counter and moves to the clothes, picking out the things he wants with almost predatory focus before bundling it all up into a neat little package to take with him.

No sense in wasting any more time. And he doesn't trust this guy as far as he can throw him — why would he — but he remembers how this dance goes. It gets a lot easier with two.]

What we really need is an American sporting goods store. Richest country on the damn earth and what do they do? Go off and turn surviving into a hobby. You haven't seen one around, have you?

Something like that, sure.

[Though the sudden body language change is an impressive one, Abbacchio is a bit unnerved by it. It's a simple thing, but this guy suddenly has an intense focus, knowing exactly what he's looking for instead of messing around.

Abbacchio is glad he hasn't given away much.]

Yeah. I have. Meant to raid it, but figured food and water was a big start. Hopefully it's still got something worthwhile in there.

[He's hoping for a machete or baseball bat or something.]

Well, shit, let's head thataway. Better get while the getting's good, right?

[if someone else gets the machete before him he's going to be so fucking mad]

You got something you want me to call you? I'm just saying, if you leave it up to me, I can't promise you'll like what you get.

Yeah, before anyone beats us to it.

[machete race]

I guarantee I'd hate it. [knowing what he knows of this guy] Name's Leone Abbacchio. What about you?

Karl Jaeger.

[This is not even close to any name that is actually his or that he uses, but it's still funny. An easy lie to remember, and it saves him from giving out his real ("real") one before he's had the chance to assess who all around here might recognize him.

Or, y'know, speak enough German to know what "Schuldig" translates to.]

That's what, Italian? Leone?

Would make sense. I'm from Napoli. Yours sounds German?

[Abbacchio considers for a moment, then decides to hide his currently full bags into the employee break room, tucking them under the sparse desk back there. He intends on coming back here, so that works for him.

On his way out, he's grabbing one of the messenger bags here. It definitely has some kind of band on it that Abbacchio does not give a shit about because it's not opera. But he figures having an extra bag in case they find anything on the way would be smart.]

Yeah. Born in Germany, boarding school in Austria, fresh out of school I got a job that takes me halfway around the world. Lucky for me Mom gave me a name that foreigners don't have too much trouble with. I had a friend growing up, his family name was Ottovordemgentschenfelde. Poor bastard, I think he wound up being an accountant.

[Hmm. This guy's got the right idea, with the bags. Schuldig's a little behind on the hoarding front, so he takes two for himself. Might as well packhorse it up, a little.]

His sister had it twice as bad, though, she was named Lieselotte. Can you imagine? Going through life with a name like Lieselotte Ottovordemgentschenfelde. I'd try to get married as fast as I could to get out of a name like that, too.

Cripes, I just asked you if it was German or not. If I ask for your favorite color, are you gonna give me your life story on that too?

[This guy talks way too much and Abbacchio finds himself desperately missing his headset. He'd left it behind back in Napoli, and now he's here. Maybe he'll luck out and find a new one, but then that means hunting down the right CDs.

He feels he's made a mistake teaming up with this man.]

Nah, I'd just tell you it's blue.

[If Abbacchio thought he was in for a quiet peaceful life, he definitely picked the wrong guy to hang around.]

Why, you didn't find my favorite blue sweater in one of those bins, did you?

Sure I did, I used it as toilet paper.

[he hates this so much]

C'mon. Let's stay focused.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

INTRO LOG #1

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject