#wanderer event

[official-wanderer]

The Radio Static sound returns yet again, and after a moment Pilot’s voice comes through.

“Wake up friends! A body has been found! Bet you’re ALL glad! I know you’re real hungry! Can everyone please make their way to DORM 3 ROOM 2! Hurry it up! There’s no time for dilly dally not when there’s a murderer to catch! Hurry up Friends! It’s time to play detective!”

CURRENT TIME: 3:30 AM

Your young warden stands next to the bed bouncing on her toes, smiling brightly at everyone as they crowd in and around the dorm room- the walls moved open so people can see better.

The girl is laying in bed almost looking like she’s sleeping, with bandages around her head, and bruises visible around the bandages.

But other than that she almost looks unharmed. It seems so peaceful. Were it not for the head wound, one might believe she died of the starvation, Or that she isn’t dead at all.

But she is. She’s very much dead, the Pilot seems far too cheerful about this.

“So Friends, it’s time for the game to proceed! It’s time to play to detective. Put on your deerstalker hats and smoke your pipes and solve this case, m’kay!” She claps her hands together, her grin widening. “There’s a new section in the back for your journal where all the information I’m gonna give you is at, and I highly suggest you all write whatever you figure out there too just for everyone’s convenience since it’ll copy over to everyone else’s! Investigate away!”  

BODY DISCOVERED BY

Zhu Li (@assistaxt )

Leonardo Watch (@allseeingblue )

Gabe Agreste (@papillonhaineux )

VICTIM

Bridgette Cheng (@ladibugs )

PILOT’S INFO

Time of death was 1 AM

Cause of death was Intracerebral Hemorrhage.

The death was very slow, and no attention was drawn to it

She died in her sleep

INVESTIGATION PERIOD: START!

ABOUT THE CORPSE

There’s little in the way of injury, just the bandaged head wound and some bruises on her face and shoulders, as well as a bump on the back of her head, mostly hidden by her hair.

One of her earrings in missing.

ABOUT THE CRIME SCENE

If you didn’t know better you wouldn’t think anyone died here. There’s no sign of a struggle, and nothing is out of place. 

[official-wanderer]

A Slight Confession

The Archive had always had an odd design, with it’s deep inset cylinder, rimmed all the way down with floors and floors of all manner of books. But here, with all the Wanderers gathered, it displayed a whole new facet to its design: The fact that the whole of the room was set to draw the eye to a singular, solitary point. The desk of the Archivist, in the centre of the bottom floor.

She didn’t really react to everyone’s presence, at least not in the way anyone expected. Instead of outwardly addressing the people in the room, the first fifteen or so minutes of Arc’s gathering was spent with the petite blonde women filing through a MASSIVE stack of folders on her desk. Flitting through the many pages of each, as if she were preparing herself for some massive quiz. What may have unnerved certain observers, were they perceptive enough to catch it, was that, with each switch to a different folder, Archivist’s eyes immediately began to flit casually to a specific person in the room, in between glances at the file. The more astute and paranoid amongst them may have done some cursory counting, revealing that there were exactly as many files on the desk as there were people in this very room. The logical connection was worrisome enough. But what would stand to make it so much worse was that, in between glances around the room, and run-throughs of the pages in a file, one could swear, with only the barest shadow of the doubt, that they saw the Archivist smile.

Finally, and without so much as a slight warning, Arc slammed the last file on her desk shut, the sound reverberating throughout the circular hall with an almost unnatural force and finality. When she speaks, everyone can hear it, with her voice seemingly amplified as if by loudspeaker. A rational Wanderer might think it a trick of the room’s acoustics, centred around the Archivist’s central desk. A wizened Wanderer might dare to question further.

“Now then, I suppose you’re all wondering why you were brought here. And I’m sure quite a few of you are starting to develop theories. And, while I am never one to stifle haphazard guessing, if only because it’s immeasurably fun to watch, I am sadly here to put your rampant questioning to rest.” The woman’s gaze peers about the room, a warm, but oddly discomforting smile lightly drawn across her face.

“To make a long story short... I work for Pilot. I always have, and I always will.”

Arc gives her words time to set in, allowing the Wanderers to murmur amongst themselves for a good few seconds, before grabbing a gavel from on top of her desk, and slamming it onto the table, silencing everyone present with a cacophonous, resounding *SLAM*.

“Now, I’m sure you have questions. All manner of questions. What? Who? How? But I’d much rather answer the question that is most pertinent to what’s coming. Why? Why would I do this? Lay my cards out so plainly on the table, when I could easily play the fool? Well, that’s simple, really. I’m telling you now because it’s much, MUCH more fun to watch you fully comprehend what you’re up against.” The woman’s arguably gentle smile rises into a full-tilt sneer, the raw menace present in it almost impossible, in that it came from a face which, to all those present, was utterly non-threatening in its shape.

“You see, my name isn’t just some title. It is my purpose. My design. My entire reason for being. I EXIST now as I always have because it is my job to know every. Last. Single. SOLITARY detail in regards to all things pertinent to the Inn. And that includes all of you.”

“That’s right, friends! I know aaaaaall of your secrets. Every truth. Every secret. Every fact. Every lie. I know your lives better than some of you know them yourselves. And rest assured friends, I am not about to let my wellspring of knowledge go to waste. After all, what good is knowing everything if you can’t use that knowledge to have a little FUN?” Arc claps her hands together and giggles to herself, clearly enjoying this to a degree beyond measure.

“So, without further ado. I’d like to officially announce myself as Pilot’s chief advisor and informational authority! My knowledge is at her beck and call, so as to give every last one of your stays in the Inn that well and true personal touch.”

“Of course, you needn’t despair fully. After all, I know lots of things that don’t relate to undermining your mental fortitude on a personal level. I also have tons of little tidbits which may, on the off chance, benefit you if any of you are ever stumped on where to go at any given point in time. It might not even have anything to do with a murder! But, of course, the only person who gets a free ride with this is Pilot. And if any of you wish to seek my aid, know that it will cost you. And not in a way that can be paid off with coin. No, see, I deal in secrets, and the only way I’m ever going to give up some of mine...”

“Is if the lot of you are willing to give up yours.”

The air hangs quiet. The words sinking in. And it isn’t until a good thirty second have passed that Arc dares to break the silence she so carefully weaved.

“Now then, I assume I’ve made myself clear? Good! Then this meeting can be officially adjourned!” Archivist slams her gavel down once more, the crack of it’s impact reverberating throughout the chamber, and straight through the Wanderer’s very forms.

“Thank you for visiting the Archive! If the need to know more ever burns its way through your mind, we’ll be here. Ready, willing, and waiting.”

[official-wanderer]

The crackling radio sound from when Pilot first revealed herself returns

Hunger is starting to get to all of you, though it’s affecting some more than others, and it seems like everyone is willing to just let this stretch on rather than killing someone.

The Radio Sound though... playing through throughout the whole place for a solid minute without any words...

It can only bring fear of what demented thing Pilot- who’s just been drifting from room to room since she revealed herself- is announcing this time.

...

But it’s not Pilot’s voice that comes through the static. Those that spend a lot of time in the Archive might recognise the voice as the girl who made herself the librarian there. 

“Hey twits!” The voice snaps flippantly, the static fading out entirely. “Everyone get to the Archive 5 minutes ago!”

Static starts to return, then it all cuts out entirely, leaving an eerie silence in it’s place.

[official-wanderer]

Changes

Things are changing, and they’re changing fast for the world of Wanderer.

For Newcomers, they just find themselves stuck in a new world. It’s disorienting and confusing for them, certainly, but it’s completely different for Veterans. 

It started with wanderer going to a lot of people’s homes. They were allowed to leave, but it never made it to your world. So many people you knew for so long managed to get home, but you didn’t, and now the door seems to be changing soon as someone comes in it.

This isn’t normal.

Long held weapons are missing. Powers are weakened or even gone. Everything seems to be getting worse and it seems like you’ll never get to go home.

But every Veteran… every single veteran has a note in the first page of their new journal.

Play my game and you get to finally go home friends, safe and sound ;)

Moments after reading that-

D̘̜̦̯̻͍̟̿ͬ̍̋̄̑̏O̜͎͚Ǹ̹͍̪͉͍͗̄ͣ'̭͙͚Ṱ̸ͮ ͚͚̭̠̼̮̦̎̓̑̽ͪͩT̵̫̝͉͓͉̣E̬̜̙̟̻̣̺͐ͨ̆͌̽̆ͫL͚̂̋ͅL̮̗ͤ͗̊ ̶͇͐̎Ả̡͎̖̠͔ͧͪ̔ͧͅN̹͓ͬ̿̈ͦ̿̚Y̦̝̩͇̌͐̐̚Ȏ̱͎͎̹̩͌̐̎Ṇ̯̦̱̹̽E͖͙͙̺͓͈̦̊̑͊͡ ̿̂ͥ̈

-appears on the page just below, and one can tell the threat in just the text.

Telling anyone about this would being going again the rules of the game, whatever the game may be.

[official-wanderer]

Welcome to Wanderer!

All you did was go through a door. It was just a door. You didn’t expect to be trapped in an alternate universe.

But here you are.

Welcome to Wanderer!

It almost seems like a joke, a friendly cheerful welcome to a place you never wanted to be, but one that gets repeated to you everywhere you go, whether earnestly from the Barkeeper offering you a drink “on the house” even though no one else seems to be paying either, sarcastically from the girl running the archive, or wistfully from those who’ve been here longer.

You hear it over and over.

Even the first page of the magic journal you were given says it, and anything you write gets no response.

But after a few days here, something else does appear- any text you wrote vanishing.

The veterans are friends of mine; will you be too?

[official-wanderer]

Pilot is sitting on the bar, staring down at the ground, kicking her feet slowly, with her arms crossed. First time she’s been in the tavern in a while, having been wandering the halls and just watching people starve with a smile on her face.

And then sitting in Bridgette’s dorm room with her body, always humming some cheerful tune, like there wasn’t a body slowly decaying in the room.

But her stance holds no cheer now. Just barely restrained fury. She finally speaks when the last person enters the room, lifting her head, but not opening her eyes. 

“You guys are pathetic.” Her voice is cold, angry, unlike the childish, friendly, and cheerful tone she’s always taken before.

Her eyes snap open, those green orbs blazing with fury and... disappointment.

“Even if one of you folks is a murderer, I thought most of you were decent people. People who would care that an innocent girl died, and would try to investigate it. A few of you did, but only a few. How callous. I never thought all of you would be so apathetic.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “It’s no fun for the killer to get away with it if you don’t investigate at all.”

She glares directly at almost every person in the room, her eyes only passing over a small handful of people.

“This death happened so you all could eat again, so I’m not going to take that away again. But! BUT you aren’t going to enjoy it. You don’t deserve to enjoy it. Her body ROTS in there and you do NOTHING.”

She jumps down from the counter walking  through the crowd, with her arms crossed behind her back.

“From this point on, every bite- every little crumb of food will taste more and more like HOT ASH  everyday that you don’t investigate. And maybe eventually, that’s all it’ll be, and you’ll end up starving anyway.” 

She stops in the middles of the room.

“Well, except for a few of you. A few of you have at least tried.” 

”Those few are still my friends!” Her friendly tone returns, and it’s almost impossible to believe that it’s the same person as a moment before. “Felix Agreste, Qrow Branwen, Zhu Li Moon, Chara Dreemur, and Ryouta Kawara are all excused from this. As will anyone who starts investigating soon, okay!”

She pulls five keys from a coat pocket, and hands one to each of the people she named. 

“That’ll open up the dining hall for you, which will have plenty of non-ashy food for you. I’d advise against sharing any with those who haven’t earned keys, mmmkay?”

EXEMPTED MUSES:

Felix Agreste @badluckpersonified​

Qrow Branwen @imyourbaduckcharm​

Zhu Li Moon @assistaxt​

Chara Dreemur @sxullesschild​

Ryouta Kawara @redeyeddove​

There will be consequences if any of those muses take food out of the dining hall to give to others.

Those who came to me about not being able to participate don’t need to worry about this; it’s not for you. And same goes for the muns of the exempted mused for their other muses.

[official-wanderer]

Locks

With everything going on, it’s understandable for people to feel stressed. Pilot has finally shown herself...

And she wants you all to kill each other. 

Distrust is to be assumed, and it would be more than reasonable for Veterans to be... suspicious when they return to their dorms after she announced everything to find...

An envelope sitting innocuously on their pillows, their names signed neatly in the same handwriting that the previous note in their journal was in on the outside of the envelope.

Inside the envelope is a silver key on a chain, and a note.

On the note is a message, again penned in the same handwriting.

Hello again friends! I need you to wear this for my game. But don't talk about is to anyone, okay!

There’s no OR ELSE or anything of that sort, but one can practically feel it radiating off the objectively pleasant and friendly note, like an unsaid threat if you don’t comply with the request.

[official-wanderer]

Clamor

There’s a room between Dorm 2 and the Market Place. Its door is locked. There’s no sign outside of it like there is on most of the other rooms, even those with locked doors. 

This door has always been locked, as far as even those veterans who’ve been here the longest times know.  

A few days after Pilot tells you to kill each other something changes with it.

Loud noises start sounding from the room beyond the door. Bangs, growls, screeches, clatters, thumps... An absolute cacophony of noises sounding out from the door- though it can’t be heard in the neighbouring rooms.

Occasionally the doorknob rattles, but the door is still firmly locked.