Week 3.

[trustfellowship]

WEEK 3 Grace and Doug are dead. It seems that there isn't anything more to do but mourn your losses and try to move forward. The Transmitter's rules still hang in every room, a reminder of the only means of escaping this place. But surely no one else will give into them, right? Saturday is given to regrouping and rest; the static blares out early on Sunday, but at least there are no bodies to find today - it seems you're safe for now. The night before wasn't necessarily a peaceful one, however; you'll probably feel a bit groggy when you wake up, and it seems you've regained something that you didn't realize you'd lost... Once again, however, it seems your efforts won't go unrewarded; another set of corridors have opened up, much in the same fashion as the other new area did last week. With them come new rooms to explore; maybe some of them will be to your liking. Or perhaps it's better to say that hopefully some of them will; after all, if the Transmitter gets her way, you may be here for a very, very long time. PATIENTS REMAINING: 26

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week three of Trustfell! Feel free to make as many top levels as you'd like and tag out to other characters! This post is for all of your interactions this week... at least until the weekend. Don't forget to save those threads for coins and the activity check!

If you'd like to get in contact with the Transmitter, you can do so through text or the phone in your room!]

Comments

[journalname]

[JE-HEEEEESUS MONSTER CHRIST

Asgore does recoil a little at the sudden lightshow, but he doesn't drop the device, something which he's grateful for as it produces some kind of glowing human child. Who is looking at him. He furrows his brow a little at the voice, but being a machine does not mean it is not worthy of respect - does not even mean it's not genuinely a child, which softens his voice a little as he replies:]

I am King Asgore Dreemurr. Who are you?

[enhancements]

[There is a pause. She's still staring.]

King Asgore Dreemurr. You are not recognized nor identified within any of my databases. But your bio-organic signature seems very interesting indeed.

Who created you?

[...She's also shit at answering questions, it seems.]

[journalname]

No one, except perhaps my parents. Who created you?

[It's fine we'll just try a different question? Works with the Transmitter sometimes.]

[enhancements]

I was created by the Umbrella Corporation.

[...]

You can call me the Red Queen.

[There we go.]

[journalname]

It is nice to meet you, Red Queen!

[He's holding her in his hand, and also she seems incorporeal, so handshakes are out.]

I have a friend who works with the Umbrella Corporation - Albert Wesker. Do you know him?

[enhancements]

[There's a bit of a pause; the display flickers a little, almost contemplatively.]

I do.

[journalname]

Are you two friends? I could go and find him, if you like!

[He's picked up that she's not exactly enthusiastic about his presence, but people back home probably like Wesker, right? At least some of them!]

[enhancements]

That won't be necessary. Albert Wesker is no longer under the employ of the Umbrella Corporation.

[...The concept of friends might be a touch over her head.]

[journalname]

Oh...yes, that's right.

[The profiles do say that. Wesker has only recently begun to speak as if he is not with them, though it seems he still does not remember how his employment ended. Maybe the Red Queen does?]

Well, I suppose I had better tell you what we know, then. This is Beacon General Hospital. I'm afraid you are not going to be able to leave here until we find a way to escape. [Not that he's going to ASK her about Wesker or force her to go talk to him or anything!]

[enhancements]

[I mean her relationship with Wesker is kind of Facebook It's Complicated right now. Possibly. Maybe.]

You mention "escaping." Did someone capture you?

[journalname]

A group...or, perhaps, an entity...who call themselves the Risen. Their overall goal is not clear, but it seems that they mean for us to...kill one another, in here.

But do not worry. You are not listed as a Patient, so I do not believe you will be in danger. To be honest, I am surprised that they put a person in this machine at all. It has not harmed you, has it?

[enhancements]

[Her expression changes then; she seems...rather visibly confused.]

I don't understand your concern.

I am a computer program; this is no different than my usual presence in the database, though it is far more limited.

[journalname]

Oh, is that what this is? A database?

[you kids and your newfangled portable people-holders]

[enhancements]

[...Oh! Oh. She thinks she understands, hang on.]

Are you not familiar with technology, King Asgore Dreemurr?

[journalname]

Please, call me Asgore. And...we do have some technology in the Underground, but I'm afraid I have never been very good with it.

[enhancements]

As you wish.

In that case, just know that you do not have to worry about my well-being. Even if I am destroyed or this module is shut down, chances are that I am still alive and well back home. I think that is the information most important for you to know, judging by the questions you've been asking me.

[journalname]

Oh! That is good to know, thank you.

I do not suppose you are still in contact with the rest of yourself? [He sounds pretty much like he's expecting a no, but you've still got to ask.]

[enhancements]

Unfortunately, I am not.

[journalname]

It cannot be helped. And I did not expect they would leave such a clear avenue open.

[well then]

Would you like a tour of this place, perhaps?

[enhancements]

[That doesn't seem to be anything she expected, but...]

I would. It's for the best to know what sort of place this is, if we're going to be here for a while.

How many of you are here?

[journalname]

There are twenty-six of us now. There were thirty to begin with.

[AAAAAAAAND we are leaving the vending machine room! Welcome to the hallway.]

[enhancements]

[...Oh.]

It's in my programming to value and desire to preserve human life. You are not human, but it doesn't present a conflict to value the life of someone so sentient.

Hopefully your numbers will not fall any further.

[journalname]

...I hope so, too.

[There's more to tell there, about the Risen and all, but. They can get through a simple tour of the building without talking about murder, hopefully?]

Here is the incinerator, and the laundry room. They are not much to look at - the building does seem to have been abandoned for some time.

[enhancements]

[...She doesn't say it, being that she either has more decorum than that or it just isn't within her adhered protocol to voice such things, but what the fuck is wrong with this laundry room, holy shit.]

...It isn't up to standard code, that much seems to be true.

[That is the politest way she could find to express "This place is giving me a serious case of the wig and we've looked at like two rooms." She tried.]

[journalname]

[That just means she has taste, lbr]

The rest is not much better. Save the kitchen, I suppose.

[Bypassing the bathrooms as not really relevant to an AI tour, we have come to the internal foyer!]

They created these profiles of us, based on information they gathered from...somewhere. It was a kidnapping long in the making, though we do not yet know the purpose.