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Mar. 15th, 2022 at 8:35 AM
It could almost be mistaken for another dream. You floated past edifices of stone, great leviathans of the deep, streets of times gone by, fractions of wars that have yet to happen, and at last, a darkness so deep it seems to have weight and texture. You reach out, and the darkness takes form: an art deco mansion with atompunk-style technology and a masquerade party in full swing.
An unknown mask covers your face–a look at the others around you suggests that your mask is probably of a wolf’s head just like the rest of them. You appear to be wearing party clothes (of player’s choice). Most distressingly, you’ve been dropped into one of the mansion’s many public rooms.
Your phone is with you, but its capabilities are noticeably reduced: you’re down to a plain black screen, a keyboard, and a group chat with a series of usernames.
“What’s up, sluts?!”
A voice that could only belong to a degenerate fratboy pharma-bro who got into and out of university on his daddy’s money rings out through the speakers in every room. “The DEVOURING OF THE LAMBS has begun! If you’re not down for some serious debauchery, report to the main stage so we can get you out of here!”
Before you have time to respond, a voice comes from a radio at your hip. It’s deep and rough, like whiskey poured through gravel. Masculine, but hard to pin an age on, and there’s an echo of something strange in it. This voice feels disconnected from reality as you know it.
“That's Aleksis Dorsey,” the voice states, a faint sigh in it. “Business magnate. Plague profiteer. Self-proclaimed alpha wolf. When he says get you out of here he means he’ll throw you in his meat-grinder. He’s reveling in the Loop, a consequence-free cycle of debauchery that resets every four hours. Even death is only momentary here, and no escape from the mindless cycle.
Because Dorsey is a fool, he’s never questioned the ways in which the Loop is unstable or who or what keeps it running. Three objects, along with the man himself, are all that keep this island anchored in the Void. I don’t like it in my space, but my ability to intervene directly is...limited. All I can do is place a few gifts. Find the anchors, destroy them, and get this bastard’s house out of my house.
Just know that whatever you do, our choices always matter to someone, somewhere, and sooner or later, the consequences come back to us. Be ready for what comes.”
An unknown mask covers your face–a look at the others around you suggests that your mask is probably of a wolf’s head just like the rest of them. You appear to be wearing party clothes (of player’s choice). Most distressingly, you’ve been dropped into one of the mansion’s many public rooms.
Your phone is with you, but its capabilities are noticeably reduced: you’re down to a plain black screen, a keyboard, and a group chat with a series of usernames.
“What’s up, sluts?!”
A voice that could only belong to a degenerate fratboy pharma-bro who got into and out of university on his daddy’s money rings out through the speakers in every room. “The DEVOURING OF THE LAMBS has begun! If you’re not down for some serious debauchery, report to the main stage so we can get you out of here!”
Before you have time to respond, a voice comes from a radio at your hip. It’s deep and rough, like whiskey poured through gravel. Masculine, but hard to pin an age on, and there’s an echo of something strange in it. This voice feels disconnected from reality as you know it.
“That's Aleksis Dorsey,” the voice states, a faint sigh in it. “Business magnate. Plague profiteer. Self-proclaimed alpha wolf. When he says get you out of here he means he’ll throw you in his meat-grinder. He’s reveling in the Loop, a consequence-free cycle of debauchery that resets every four hours. Even death is only momentary here, and no escape from the mindless cycle.
Because Dorsey is a fool, he’s never questioned the ways in which the Loop is unstable or who or what keeps it running. Three objects, along with the man himself, are all that keep this island anchored in the Void. I don’t like it in my space, but my ability to intervene directly is...limited. All I can do is place a few gifts. Find the anchors, destroy them, and get this bastard’s house out of my house.
Just know that whatever you do, our choices always matter to someone, somewhere, and sooner or later, the consequences come back to us. Be ready for what comes.”