INTRO LOG | WEEKEND ZERO

[divus]

THE ICEBREAKER

When you're no longer dreaming, your eyes flutter open to a room within lovely temple. Even if you weren't in them when you fell asleep, you'll find yourself dressed in your usual sleepwear--or else a fluffy onesie of a specific design: a sheep or a goat, black or white. Beside you in a neat bundle are a set of your regular clothes, a single item of significance to you, and a scroll and parchment. Unroll this parchment and you'll find a what appears to be a set of rules provided to you by your hosts, wherever they may be. And finally, of course, somewhere on your person is a single golden coin.

Overall, the room could be considered tastefully plain, the centerpiece being an altar with a single dish meant for offerings. There are a few things that are hard to overlook. Stretching its way around the room, a large stone plaque displays a list that may not immediately make sense to anyone first reading, but which certainly contains tantalizing promises and information that may be good to reflect upon in the future. It doesn't seem as if its presence here is meant to be temporary, so you get the feeling that there should be plenty of time to come back and analyze it further.

Beyond this, a large doorway leads out to an expansive area free to explore. The room you woke up in leads immediately out to a peacefully burbling courtyard dotted with blank-eyed marble statues standing at attention, each the perfect vision of a hero from myth. There's something oddly familiar about them, and getting close enough you'll understand why: they match the faces of you and the others waking up around you. At the feet of each statue, an inscription reveals some telling details about their subject.

As of now, only a couple of hallways at the end of each main wing to the east and west appears to be missing doorways. For the rest of the weekend, you'll have free reign to search as you please, and find that there are plenty of places and amenities you can use to remain occupied and comfortable. Not that you're likely to go exploring this far right away to discover most of these things -- because as your head clears from your strange and compulsive sleep, you discover that you and your fellow competitors are not alone. There's one being that stands out like an obsidian stone in a pond full of clear glass.

Above you, sitting primly in a throne made of glittering marble, a masked god watches, waiting. A slender, gloved hand emerges from the robes that swaddle their figure and perches beneath their chin. It may take you a moment, but if you think of that lingering dream you'd woken from, you'll recall that this deity wasn't present in the lineup.

"Hello."

The god's voice is a feminine chirp, high and sweet, just short of a giggle.

"I'm here to answer your questions... so don't be shy. I'm sure you have plenty. Shall we get started?"

OOC NOTES

Welcome to the soft intro for Plasmatio! Please feel free to make toplevels and mingle with one another for the remainder of the weekend! A new mingle with more available locations and information will be available on Monday that will signify the game's official IC start for the characters playing within it. For now, an NPC is available below to tag with any questions your character has, and your mods are also always available to contact with any other questions you have OOC.

Wondering where your patron gods are and how to contact them? Well, that might be a good question to start with if you aren't sure what to have your character ask. Surely, they aren't completely unreachable for the whole weekend.

full navigation.

locations ♦ taken ♦ profiles ♦ weekly curfew ♦ murder proposals
ic rulebook ♦ temple offerings ♦ private convos

Comments

wildcard, statues

[goatsongs]

What kind of age is too many? Are you older than me or younger?

[Sorry, was Newt exploring and not here to be interrogated about his statue's profile? He's getting interrogated about his statue's profile by a midget.]

[arockstar]

[Newt is currently frowning at his info plate so, boooo.]

Depends on how old you are, I guess. From the look of the lineup here, I'm a damned grandpa.

[Someone's butthurt.]

[goatsongs]

Thirty. Most of the time I'm not that old, but there's a hell of a lot more kids and teenagers than there should be here.

[what if they get hurt]

[arockstar]

Yeah, you can say that again.

[He doesn't like it either. This was not in his contract!!!]

I got you beat by a couple years. I'm 34.

[goatsongs]

Close enough. We're both fossils here.

[one of them less metaphorically than the other]

[arockstar]

Evidently.

[...Wait. Crap.]

Do you think that means the gods are on the young side, too? They can't be, right? I mean, they're gods.

[goatsongs]

[Head...tilt. Excuse him while he ruminates on that.]

Do gods experience time the same way humans do? Asking how old they are might not be a meaningful question.

[arockstar]

[He's quiet for a moment, and then he blows out a breath.]

You know what, you've got me there. Patience doesn't act like a kid, anyway.

[Which is a horrible way to judge age but between the god thing and the mask, he doesn't have much else to go on.]

So which one of these are you?

[goatsongs]

Nakahara Chuuya. That one.

[It's the short statue with the hat, can't miss it.]

[arockstar]

[Ah, yeah. He can see the resemblance. He makes his way over to check out the inscription.]

You came in with alcohol? Nice.

[Granted, he's heard there's a bar, but still cool.]

...And you bleed ink? Uh.

[goatsongs]

It's a spirit thing. I won't be bleeding on you, so don't worry about it too much.

[As if that's the only reason to be concerned...?]

[arockstar]

A spirit thing. So, what, you're a ghost? Spooky.

[goatsongs]

That's me. Spooky book ghost here to haunt you and keep you up at night with poetry.

[arockstar]

Seriously? Huh.

[He's... Well. If someone would've said this to him a few days ago, he'd call bullshit, but with this whole god situation, kinda seems like anything is fair game. So, spooky book ghost that bleeds ink. Sure. Why not?]

What book are you the ghost of?

[goatsongs]

Technically I'm the memories of the poet that were kept in the book, but close enough. "Goat Songs."

[arockstar]

[Blink blink.]

Okay... So, is that songs about goats or songs sung by goats? Or songs you're supposed to sing to goats? What kind of logistics are we talking about here?

[goatsongs]

It's a poetry collection.

[so the actual relevance of goats is debatable]

[arockstar]

So why isn't it called "Goat Poetry"? Where do the goats factor in?

[goatsongs]

Hah? That's what I just said it was called!

[translator microbes sure are a thing]

[arockstar]

[BIG SQUINT but ok.]

Right. Whatever. Still not seeing the goat correlation.

[It aggressively does not matter, though.]

What's the story behind the "shooting a gun while drunk" bit?

[goatsongs]

Can't shoot a gun while sober if you're never sober.

[That's an explanation... I guess...]

[arockstar]

You know, I'd judge but I guess a poetry ghost can stand to be an alcoholic. Unless you've got a lot of goats commissioning you or something. But isn't that a thing with poets? They're, like, wasted on something or other all the time?

[goatsongs]

Writers and artists in general. You should see the decadents, they're worse than I am. I'm pretty sure Ango smuggled morphine into the library.

[It'd be impressive if it was anything else.]

[arockstar]

Morphine? Damn, that's not easy to get your hands on. What are the decadents?

[goatsongs]

The school of irresponsibility and decadence, the post-war writers famous for being subversive and attacking traditional Japanese literature. Dazai Osamu, Sakaguchi Ango, Oda Sakunosuke.

They're alright, I guess. For novelists.

[ango is one of his only semi-friends and he likes dazai enough to nickname him]