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foolishmortals2017-05-06 11:18 pm
grimgrinningghosts) wrote in foolishmortals2017-05-06 11:18 pm
Entry tags:
THE MOCK WEEK
[You find yourself waking in a large dressing room, incredibly spacious, but in intense disarray. The bed is comfortable enough, and each room seems to be equipped with a working bathroom and shower, so it's at least livable. But aesthetically, the place has hit the floor.
The horrifying clock mounted on the wall reads 9 am. After enough searching, you'll find a large tourist-y map of the studio on one of the dressers. An ominous note attached to the map with a paperclip reads "12PM WAITING AREA". It's not like you have any choice in the matter, seeing as there doesn't seem to be any way out.
Upon exiting the dressing room, you note a crooked star attached to the door bearing your name. There are 24 others like this, bearing names that you may or may not recognize. A quick tour around the studio reveals it to be in a similar state of disrepair, but something doesn't sit...right with you. Though the place is certainly creepy, you get strange vibes as you explore the building. As you move about the dust-filled halls of the abandoned building, you may spot movement out of the corner of your eye, or hear strange noises from behind you. It's nothing to be worried about, though...right?
At the very least, you'll find some comfort. The projection room and attached theater still seem to be in working order, though you'll have to manually grab one of the reels off the wall and start the thing yourself. In addition, the waiting area and lounge are both filled with reading materials, and the later features a large stage and a microphone. The commissary seems to replenish itself with food whenever you take your eyes off of it, ensuring that we won't be going hungry anytime soon. There are also cabinets full of ingredients and a small kitchen should you not trust whatever your benefactor is placing out for you.
Fortunately for them, the smaller individuals amongst your party won't find a great deal of difficulty moving around. Though their beds remain oversized, there seem to be appropriately-sized staircases and escalators placed about in appropriate spots, so as to make their lives easier. After all, they can't just keep relying on the others to get up to the cabinets and such, can they?
While you're waiting to find out what the deal here is, you might as well come out and socialize.]
(ooc: Welcome to the Foolish Mortals Mock Week! Please follow us on Plurk at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
foolishmortals for updates, and if you're so inclined, please feel free to join your Discord-inept head moderator as he struggles to set up a Discord chat up for everyone.)
The horrifying clock mounted on the wall reads 9 am. After enough searching, you'll find a large tourist-y map of the studio on one of the dressers. An ominous note attached to the map with a paperclip reads "12PM WAITING AREA". It's not like you have any choice in the matter, seeing as there doesn't seem to be any way out.
Upon exiting the dressing room, you note a crooked star attached to the door bearing your name. There are 24 others like this, bearing names that you may or may not recognize. A quick tour around the studio reveals it to be in a similar state of disrepair, but something doesn't sit...right with you. Though the place is certainly creepy, you get strange vibes as you explore the building. As you move about the dust-filled halls of the abandoned building, you may spot movement out of the corner of your eye, or hear strange noises from behind you. It's nothing to be worried about, though...right?
At the very least, you'll find some comfort. The projection room and attached theater still seem to be in working order, though you'll have to manually grab one of the reels off the wall and start the thing yourself. In addition, the waiting area and lounge are both filled with reading materials, and the later features a large stage and a microphone. The commissary seems to replenish itself with food whenever you take your eyes off of it, ensuring that we won't be going hungry anytime soon. There are also cabinets full of ingredients and a small kitchen should you not trust whatever your benefactor is placing out for you.
Fortunately for them, the smaller individuals amongst your party won't find a great deal of difficulty moving around. Though their beds remain oversized, there seem to be appropriately-sized staircases and escalators placed about in appropriate spots, so as to make their lives easier. After all, they can't just keep relying on the others to get up to the cabinets and such, can they?
While you're waiting to find out what the deal here is, you might as well come out and socialize.]
(ooc: Welcome to the Foolish Mortals Mock Week! Please follow us on Plurk at
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Plus, if ya go about using wishes and magic to erase what you did, what's stopping you from just hiding from the consequences every time you mess up?
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[Like... doesn't that follow logically?
He's not going to answer the last question though no sir nuh-uh.]
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I'm not advocatin' killin' anyone. Don't you put those words in my mouth.
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Well, then maybe you shouldn'ta said that I think people should be suffering.
[This is a very petty fight and he doesn't care.]
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Then maybe you shouldn't've made it awful clear that's what you think!
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Why you little-!
[He's also a cricket tearing off his jacket, throwing it to the floor, and putting up his fists.]
I'll show you some respect for your conscience! If you even have one!
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I'm not -- I'm not goin' to fight you. There's no way that'd be fair.
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[This has gone so far off the rails why is this happening
is he having some kind of really bad trip
oh god that's it, isn't it. the years he spent in college in the 70s have come back to haunt him]
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[Honestly is Jiminy doing anything except project his latent Lampwick anger onto Fiddleford by this point]
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[Crickets do not live that long. He's like. 75% sure. From the time he started college to when he finally got his doctorate is probably like... ten cricket lifespans.]
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[You're two months old Jiminy. That's late forties/early fifties at best, come on.]
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I don't -- this isn't helpin' anythin'. Put your little coat back on. For god's sake.
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I think that settles that.
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Whatever. The tiny rude cricket can think he's won. It's exactly like it was with Ford: you just have to let an asshole think they've got the last word in or you'll never be free of them.]