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WEEK ZERO: ARRIVAL
ARRIVAL | |
| â˝ FULL NAVIGATION â˝ LOCATIONS â˝ STATUSES â˝ IC PROFILES â˝ IC RULEBOOK â˝ MURDER PROPOSALS â˝ PCS â˝ CURFEW â˝ ??? â˝ ??? â˝ ??? |
You know how the story goes by now. One minute youâre somewhere familiar, and the next youâre suddenly somewhere else. Unlike previous times before, the source of your rude awakening isnât a mystery. A harsh jostle causes your body to lunge forward as a tire jumps over a pot hole in the road. Try as you might, itâs hard to ignore the steady thrumming of an engine and the gentle sway beneath you. The faint scent of gasoline seems to waft from the outside, but as you look around youâll notice that the windows are locked, tinted, and impossible to see through. Likewise, the door ahead of you appears to be locked as well. Perhaps the scent is your imaginationâŚ? Regardless, though the lighting is a tad dim, it becomes apparent that youâre inside a large bus dotted with the occasional seat and amid a jumble of other bodies. The people you were last with may be among your fellow passengers. Perhaps they are not. But worry not; thereâs plenty of time to look around and get to know one another on this long, strange trip. It may even be wise to examine the staircase at the other end of the bus. Who knows what awaits you on the other floors? Ah, but before you move too far it may be best to assess the situation. On the bright side, any injuries you incurred have been healed! Isn't it nice to have your limbs in place again? Miracles happen. But...what happened to your clothes? Youâre fairly certain you weren't wearing this t-shirt before...and what's with the denim shorts? Maybe you were fortunate enough to get the knee-length version, but for those of you waking up in bootyshorts...well, we're sure you look great! And what better way to tie the whole look together than white socks and tan sandals? At least you'll be comfortable for the ride. Lucky for you, your new threads aren't the only gift you'll receive upon waking up. Attached to your waist is a high-quality bag filled with some fun goodies for every passenger! For those of you who unzip your bag to check its contents, you will find: -Dry shampoo No other items are on your person at this time, even if you were holding onto it as you began your previous departure. That's a bit troublesome, isn't it? Not really; it's still a bus. Be grateful for the extra elbow room, alright? Oh, and one last thing...on the wrist of every passenger is a small, equally fashionable white scrunchie. Not your style? Perhaps it's a good idea to give the travel guide another read. Searching the bus from top to bottom will net zero results in the way of an escape. All of the windows are similarly tinted and locked, and the only exit door appears to be the one on the first level that can't be opened at this time. But hey. You're all old pros at this, right? You know what to do next! Get to know the people around you, trade stories with your fellow passengers, and...well. Buckle up for the bumpy ride ahead. |
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Time to help the robot up. Or try to, he heavy.]
How'd you even fall down? I thought robots could stay standing up.
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[Despite his weight, it's not too difficult to turn him over and bring him to a sitting position. The motion seems to be assisted by some kind of interior motorâat least, that's what the mechanical sound would suggest.]
I'm afraid I don't have magnetized footing like some droids. I wasn't built for starships.
[He looks around, blinking amber-yellow eyes that are lit from within.]
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Well we're not on a starship. This is just a bus.
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Oh, we're in some kind of ground transport, then? That would certainly explain how rough it is. [He shakes his head in distaste.] I suppose that island was quite far from the planet's nearest spaceport after all.
[He startles a bit, remembering himself]
Oh dear, how rude of me! I am C-3PO, Human-Cyborg Relations. At your service.
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C-3P0. Is that short for anything, or is it like a serial number?
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Why yes, young master. [this does seem to be a child, after all]
It is quite like a serial number. Not to get technical, but "3PO" is my model designation. There are of course other protocol droids with different models and manufacturers.
Might I ask your name?
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[Sorry, he's a bit focused on the name thing here. For Reasons.]
Do you have an actual name, or just the model designation?
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A pleasure to meet you, Master Chuuya.
Given our function, typically droids aren't named beyond a model designation, but my [a very slight pause] friends most often call me "Threepio".
I can't speak for anything prior to my most recent memory wipe, of course.
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What? Why'd they do that?
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