@paidvices ❤’d for a host!logan starter
A shift. Something… different. Within the blink of an eye ( so it had felt ), the park changed. Some hosts were left caught in their current situation, unable to obtain self-awareness as others had. Some opened their eyes, understood the difference between themselves and the newcomers in this park, and became masters of their own ambitions. They had stories they recalled, narratives they missed, and other hosts they needed to reconnect with. Some, those who were awake, looked at the newcomers who wore black-hats with rage like they hadn’t felt before.
Real blood stained the ground. No one came to clean it. No one came to set the park right again.
One particular host written to encourage chaos where law hardly touched was nearly unaffected, having no prior backstory to cling to and no one close enough to him who’d become self-aware. He lounged in his extensive home, carried out the repetitive loop of his life day in and day out, and improvised where gaps fell due to a missing host or lack of guest. His coding plunged him into ignorance, but most would argue it wasn’t bliss.
‘ When darkness falls in Pariah, the last place you want to be is wandering her streets alone. ’
He said from his porch, leaning against one of the wood supports, smoking a cigar. He had plenty of phrases he’d say to passerby’s who struck his intrigue in order to lure them into his home and into the chaotic delights occurring inside.
