COUNTDOWN: FUTURE & PAST

[cordibus]

It's been a week since the first network post. Upon waking up early Saturday morning, you notice that the app is not responding. Is it finally over, as strangely as it began?

Which makes explaining what happened impossible. Others have already tried to figure out more about it, but nothing has been working. Bringing it to a repair shop to get it looked at? No programs found. Even getting the phone completely wiped did nothing, as the icon just showed up a few minutes after they walked out of the store. Showed it to a family member? The minute you blinked or turned it around to show them, it simply wasn't there.

It's taunting you. Whoever programmed this is really good. Frighteningly so.

Saturday night rolls and still nothing from the application. The news this Saturday is nothing special. There's been another fire at night that was put out by the firemen and an instance of someone being outside. According to both departments, neither of the incidents are connected. It's just a case of someone who wasn't back home in time and unfortunate damage to a building that occurred with some of the habitats still sleeping inside. It is a tragedy, but no city can survive without any loss of life. It's simply mathematically impossible. It's notable enough that it gets second page billing and a blurb in the morning news, but nothing too huge.

At least you had assumed.

The warning bells of the Nightly Curfew ring across the city as a few people finish locking their doors for the night. As the last bits of light fade from the city, the night lights take over. Civilians are settling in for a late supper and preparations for school or work tomorrow.

Not you, however. There's been a damn headache building for the past hour and by now your ears are ringing. Food doesn't look appetizing and you feel an urge to go to bed early. Maybe you caught the flu or maybe it's just pre-Monday blues a day early, which makes it all the more frustrating. The flower festival is tomorrow!

Either way, a little shut-eye would be welcome at this point. You don't even think too hard about it, and the headache fades into blissful sleep.

...I am thou...thou art I...your chains will soon break away....
2AM and you snap awake. The strange foreboding voice of...something echos in your head. It's the only thing you can hear, with your headache gone, and the quietness of the city is fast asleep. You're not sure why, but the voice makes you get up and grab your phone.

It's humming softly. The icon is glowing again. Before you do, you take a look around and suddenly notice...nothing's moving. Nothing but you. Almost as if time was frozen.

Is that even possible?

You can't back down now. Pressing the button reveals another terms of agreement, but it looks quite different. It's almost...gentle?


It may take a while or near instantly, but you eventually take your finger and trace your name over the signature area to continue. You've gotten this far in any case and this one isn't trying to kill you...at least you think. Yet as your hand moves to write your name, it gets replaced into other letters. Another name that tells you nothing. Somehow you feel like you should, but it's...it's...

It stays there for a few more seconds, leaving you with your thoughts before the contract disappears.

You're back into that chatroom again. Questions pop up in rapid succession before you're even permitted to type anything else. Once more, it seems that you find yourself typing things that aren't matching up with what you really want to say.

At least...you think...

What is your name?
Write it here.

Do you think the future is unavoidable?
Yes | No

Do you consider yourself a bad person?
Yes | No

Have you ever killed someone/something?
Yes | No | Yes, but (insert your reason here)

Did you enjoy it?
Yes | No | It's complicated (but yes) | It's complicated (but no) | It's just complicated

Now share one or two of your darkest secrets with the rest of the group! It's like team bonding, we promise!
Write it down here.

With questions like that and nothing around you moving, you feel like it's going to be a very, very, very long night.

[OOC: Starting from now on, the network posts will allow users to post their names, but they will show up as their CANON ones. The user's persona can be added at the end, or not show up at all. Additionally, the occupations will still be censored.

MEMORY REGAIN: Right before their answers are posted, they will also get a longer flash of someone calling them by this name. The memory HAS to be someone calling them by their name. It could be both a good or a bad memory, that is up to you.]

Comments

[blackdogdown]

No. I wouldn't want to be in anyone's debt.

He's looking around the inside of his car. Usually hes fine just sleeping here after curfew, but the more he looks around the more he sees things he can't afford to break, no matter how much itching is building beneath his skin.

brb

He's gone for a while, minutes even. Perhaps Featherine has even put down her phone when she finally gets a reply.

Ok. Done.

If anyone at Green Apple finds a few smashed windows in the morning, cars or otherwise, it most certainly was not Guts.

[anovelidea]

A 'debt' implies I did something of value.

[ Alas, Featherine's phone has embedded its remains in her bedroom wall. Guts is not the only one having a bad go of it. It gives her a chance to go find her glasses, fix the brightness of the old monitor, and take internal bets on how many people will wake up tomorrow screaming about broken windows.

Ah, what a night. What a lovely night.

Except it's not. ] Feeling a little bit better?

[blackdogdown]

Tremendously.

Nothing like picking the glass out of your knuckles to clear your mind. He probably should have worn gloves.

My RA's gonna kill me, not that I care right now. You know anyone who sells bail bonds?

[anovelidea]

There's always that one shady pawn shop you can try. I've bought shrunken heads from him before. Having bail bonds doesn't seem too far out of the question for him.

[ who the fuck sells shrunken heads

whO THE FUCK BUYS SHRUNKEN HEADS ]

I can dig up an address, if you'd like. I have his business card.

Somewhere.

[blackdogdown]

Who the fuck buys shrunken heads?

The shock of it works past his filter. Seriously. Isn't that illegal?

Uh, I mean yeah. Thanks. I don't know if the censors would let you but.

[anovelidea]

They're cute!

[ Rude!!!! ]

And I should be fine sharing the address. I live nowhere near the place. If not, maybe I'll leave a scavenger hunt of post-its for you to figure out the directions from.