INTRO LOG #1

[uglynakedguy]

I • N • T • R • O   L • O • G   # • 1

WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD! You wake up, fully rested, feeling warm and comfortable and pleased. It is seven in the morning, and whether you're an early waker or not, you're actually feeling pretty good for once. You sit up, maybe yawn, maybe stretch, and move to do your morning routine when you realise -- this isn't your room. And these aren't your clothes you're wearing. (Unless you own one of a variety of Hawaiian print shirts.) It looks like the room could be yours, at least, since it's decorated perfectly to your tastes, but there isn't anything personal in it (save for your costume and weapons if you have any, but you'll have to look in your wardrobe to see those). You do own two new things for sure, though: a DIGITAL WATCH with a big, blank face on your wrist, and a TO-DO LIST with your name written on top, which you'll easily find somewhere in your immediate line of sight. You're free to leave your room to find the rather bare living space of the apartment you're in, but chances are you won't be alone for long. After all, not only do you have floormates (or a roommate!), it looks like your front door won't lock for them no matter what you try. It won't take a genius to figure out that you're all in New York City, especially if you decide to step out into the sunshine and explore a bit. Later in the day, you'll hear a beep from your watch and see this message on it when you look: HELLO, [NAME]. WELCOME TO NEW YORK. DON'T FORGET, YOU HAVE WORK TOMORROW AT [PLACE] FROM 9 TO 5. HOPE YOU ENJOY BEING A/N [OCCUPATION]!

I DEPEND ON ME IF I WANT IT At some point you and your roommate, or maybe even a floormate, probably realise that there is a common task on your lists -- "BUY FURNITURE". There is a furniture store just a few blocks away from your apartment building, easily found when you explore, and the moment you enter your watch beeps with a notification: YOU HAVE JUST RECEIVED $2000 WORTH OF STORE CREDIT. GIVE YOUR NAME AT THE CASHIER, THEY'LL KNOW. You're welcome to ignore it if you want and go window shopping instead, but if you try to leave you'll find that the front door won't open for you. Ask any of the guards or employees for help and they'll be able to open it -- and it seems other people are coming and going as they please -- but you folks with the watches stuck to you either can't open the door, or find yourself pushed to the side by someone entering or exiting when you try to leave. It happens repeatedly, like all these strangers have absurdly perfect timing. It seems you've got no choice but to buy things, so go ahead and LOOK AROUND THE STORE. You'll be able to tick an item off the To-do List, so why not?

COME WITH ME AND ESCAPE HERO OPPORTUNITY! Once you've paid for an item or two or many and decided to leave, you're suddenly stopped in your tracks by what looks to be a duckling. And then another duckling. And then maybe one more. You're not sure how you didn't notice them before, but the store is teeming with little ducklings chirping and cheeping about. If you try to count them all, you'll get to twenty panicked little bird babies. Once you've realised there are ducklings in the store, your watch beeps with another message: DON'T YOU FEEL TERRIBLE FOR THEM? WON'T YOU TAKE THEM TO THEIR MOTHERS IN CENTRAL PARK, [CODENAME]? People no longer pop up with impeccable timing when you try to leave the store, so clearly you're allowed to leave now. You've ticked a box (or a few boxes) off your list too, so there's no need to stay or engage in any more of this tomfoolery. But nobody else seems to notice the ducklings, and any moment now some idiot's going to end up crushing one of them. Noisily, and a little frightened, they flitter about the store and crawl under beds and sofas. Come on -- you can't just leave them alone, can you?

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