DUNGEON LOG.

[dungeon_channel]

Where:  Varying underground locations somewhere on the island.
When: Early morning on the eighteenth through the end of the twenty-first.
Who: Seven teams of two people, listed below.
Why:  Because nobody likes a snoop.

Starting the morning on the eighteenth, there are seven new local cable channels available on island TV.  There are no ads announcing them, so only people channel-surfing will run across them at first.  Each channel shows something rather shocking:  two people held together by a pair of thick, futuristic shackles made of some strange white plastic.  They're somewhere underground, and followed constantly by hidden cameras in their surroundings.  Welcome to the strangest reality TV show ever.

For those seven teams, however, life is significantly worse.  They'll wake up in the darkness, shackled to someone they may or may not know.  They'll be wearing whatever clothes they wore yesterday (thankfully, not whatever they wore to bed).  They'll be carrying anything they usually carry, though any weapon will be lacking extra ammunition beyond the load it started with.  Their electronic devices will not connect to any networks or receive any signal, but will otherwise behave normally.  Worst, however, any supernatural abilities they possess will be dampened -- subtly for some, more extremely for others (sorry Jade).

The shackles will not cut or break.  Any attempt to remove them merely tightens them.  There is no visible lock to pick.  Examine or struggle how you will, but short of severing your forearm there's no certain way to remove them.

So:  where the Hell are you, anyway?

Check out the threads below for answers.

Team One: Tim – Jade

Team Two: Finnick – Remus

Team Three: Jack – Kaylee

Team Four: Sherlock – Davesprite

Team Five: Natasha – Feferi

Team Six: Naoto – Ramona

Team Seven: Jenny – Nathan

 

Comments

[dungeon_channel]

The mystery conversationalist is tucked away in the corner, and immediately begins commenting on their arrival.

There are two doorways to the room: one an airlock that continually irises open and shut, and beyond which more voices can be heard, and one half-collapsed corridor, beyond which weak, flickering light can be seen.

[retroversion]

Davesprite pulled his sword out of his sylladex as soon as Sherlock suggested it, because hey whatever they meet is probably not going to be impervious to a big fucking sword. He follows quickly after the man, then pushes forward since he's kind of the one with a lethal weapon here, and they might need it t -

- try to hack up the wannabe Jetsons radiorobotthing. Oh. He actually listens to it for a long moment before deciding Christ, that's annoying.

(Davesprite that's what it's like trying to talk to you.)

At least it's not a threat, so you know whatever. He lowers the sword, taking a look at the rest of the room and the doors especially.

"I vote the broken hallway. At least we won't be talked to death by more of those dudes."

[worldsonly]

If this partnership were a democracy subject to vote, as opposed to a dictatorship ruled under the tyrannical fist of Sherlock Holmes, then Sherlock would care -- but, luckily for both of them, the abandoned hallway is where he plans on going anyway.

First, though, he eyes the nattering robot with equal suspicion and contempt — and fascination. Judging from the rambling, it's a broken death machine (security bot? Good lord) with at least some semblance of self-awareness. A defective AI with enough functioning code to recognize itself. Interesting.

If the voices though the airlock are more of these things, they're probably equally defective. The silence of the other hallway may indicate functioning deathbots waiting for them to come into range of their weapons.

"Oh, shut up," Sherlock finally snaps at it. "Can you understand me?"

Not that it's likely their captors will have left them with anything capable of helping them, but he might as well get information before he moves forward.

[dungeon_channel]

"Don't make lemonade," the turret advises him.

[worldsonly]

"Wonderful, I'll make a note," Sherlock sneers.

Fine. Time to head down the destitute corridor and take the chance that it's not full of fully-functioning death robots.

[dungeon_channel]

The flickering light seems to come from a bank of dubiously functioning computers at the end of the hall. Next to them is a small, round platform with a tube and a number of dangling wires and electrodes above it. There are no other apparent entrances or exits, and they initially appear to be alone in the room -- until a blocky shape in the corner lights up and moves.