[ Opening Mingle ]

[randomly_modding]

[Everyone will wake up suddenly, as if having drifted off -- while sitting upright in an uncomfortable office chair. In one hand they're holding the communicator, and in their lap is propped a clipboard with a job application (standard, looking something like this; it requests up to ten years of job history, ) and a pen. The waiting room is also fairly standard, except for being empty.]

[The communicator's lock screen reads, Complete the job application. Time limit, twenty-four hours.]

[There are magazines, fake plants, and computers. There's a staff lounge with food -- tupperware that might have belonged to some of these nonexistent workers, popcorn and cocoa packets, vending machines -- and restrooms. There are exits, but characters will be unable to use them... or make their own, or escape in any way.]

[So the characters are stuck here, until tomorrow morning. Set up a comment telling everyone what your character is doing, and thinking, whether they're obeying the task or not, at any time during the day. Then tag other people! Be sure to check back later in the week, when people are encouraged make threads for the evening as well as the day! Characters that have been claimed are also welcome at this point to join the community, and will be able to make their own posts, which can be tagged by anyone taking part in the event.]

Comments

[everwalking]

I imagine not... [wow, he really was not mistaken, you are all rock, aren't you? he rests his elbows on his thighs, sitting back on his haunches] Where are you from, if you don't mind my asking? I-- [ehe] I was in Belgium the last I checked... [and there weren't any. you know. rock people there]

[conglomeration]

[That he has no clue where "Belgium" might be is just the latest bit of bad news in his life. Either this guy's a terrible liar, or this is worse than he thought.] Taforashia is where I was last, but not where I'm from. I've never heard of anywhere called Belgium, and I've traveled all over.

[everwalking]

T-- Taforashia? [echoing that name very carefully in a delicate way that makes it really super obvious that he has never heard it before] I thought of myself as something of a traveler as well... I don't suppose that's in the Americas.

[shaking his head, and then lifting a hand to rub at the back of his skull] Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. If we can't identify where we are now, why should it be odd that I don't know where you were originally? [a sigh]

[conglomeration]

Hn. [Something like begrudging agreement; he is not a fan of not knowing what's going on. Or of bits of carpet in his hair, which he methodically begins removing; his version of fidgeting.]

What is this place, even? A big house? [With... very tiny rooms and incredibly short walls?]

[everwalking]

You know, I'm really not sure... It looks like some of -- workplace? With all these desks, and I suppose these machines are part of their work... [whatever they might do]

Do you recognize anything like this? [he holds up the communicator in one hand]