Saturn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cultfavorite) wrote2023-02-05 11:46 am
cultfavorite) wrote2023-02-05 11:46 am
PALACE GAME: Round 3
You open your eyes—
You're standing in the vast lobby of a corporate building, facing the reception desk, where a Team Galactic Grunt is stationed—she's currently on the phone, though, and occupied. A few other grunts move through the lobby, looking as if they're on their way to their next assignment. All of them look identical. And if you watch their paths for a while, none of them actually end up leaving the room.
The walls are a bright, metallic, sterile blue with white, and the floor is made up of gleaming silver metal tiles emblazoned here and there with a gold logo. The reception desk is slightly to your right, and to the left of that there are three doors in the far wall in front of you.
To the right of the reception desk, there's a little area with a vending machine, a large ottoman to sit on, a potted plant, and . . . a dotaku? With a face? It's sitting resting on the floor next to the vending machine, and it's staring right at you with those red eyes.
Directly to your right, closer to the front door, there is a glowing green circle on the floor with a sign on the wall next to it.
What will you d—
Wait. Your phone is buzzing. Whether or not you had it with you back in the prison, you do now, whether in your pocket, in your hand, whatever. It's on your person, and it's vibrating demandingly for attention. If you choose to ignore it, a mechanical voice emanating from it begins literally saying the word buzz! buzzzzzz! buuuzzzzzz! in an increasingly irritated tone.
Check your phone?
You're standing in the vast lobby of a corporate building, facing the reception desk, where a Team Galactic Grunt is stationed—she's currently on the phone, though, and occupied. A few other grunts move through the lobby, looking as if they're on their way to their next assignment. All of them look identical. And if you watch their paths for a while, none of them actually end up leaving the room.
The walls are a bright, metallic, sterile blue with white, and the floor is made up of gleaming silver metal tiles emblazoned here and there with a gold logo. The reception desk is slightly to your right, and to the left of that there are three doors in the far wall in front of you.
To the right of the reception desk, there's a little area with a vending machine, a large ottoman to sit on, a potted plant, and . . . a dotaku? With a face? It's sitting resting on the floor next to the vending machine, and it's staring right at you with those red eyes.
Directly to your right, closer to the front door, there is a glowing green circle on the floor with a sign on the wall next to it.
What will you d—
Wait. Your phone is buzzing. Whether or not you had it with you back in the prison, you do now, whether in your pocket, in your hand, whatever. It's on your person, and it's vibrating demandingly for attention. If you choose to ignore it, a mechanical voice emanating from it begins literally saying the word buzz! buzzzzzz! buuuzzzzzz! in an increasingly irritated tone.
Check your phone?
no subject
Why are you censored.
no subject
Rotoron buzzes:
Oh, that thing? It doesn't belong here! That bell's not supposed to be part of this whole setup. It's probably cheating its moveset . . . bah. If only we were all so lucky! I hate Psychic types!
no subject
I'm not about to complain about the cheaters being on our side. An element of surprise can work in our favour, but it makes choreographing more difficult.
no subject
How do I look? Snazzy? Heheh! Just for thinking of this old man, I'll tell you exactly what you're aiming for here. This is the Clever look. That's a good choice for a Psychic type. You'll be appealing to the last judge. That's the lad with the glasses I don't recognize. He's an odd one.
Oh no. It's Fran.
no subject
no subject
"Hey there! Two minutes. You guys ready to go on?"
no subject
You ready?
no subject
Leave me out of this! Weeeell, maybe if you come up with something flashy to order me to do, I'll do my best to oblige.
no subject
[going to get the door]
We're ready.
no subject
You step out onto the stage. The stage floor is a soft perky yellow, and the curtains are a baby pink; the seats in the theater are a friendly blue, and also full of friendly people. There's a decent crowd in this auditorium today, and luckily, they seem easy to please.
At least, most of them do. The crowd itself is a group of families, couples on dates or with their children or grandparents out with their grandchildren to spend some time together, and they all look eager to see the show. But at the front is a panel of five judges sitting at a long table, each holding a tablet and looking up at you with an opaque expression.
This is where you would have gotten the description of them you already got. Pretend they're doing those things now.