We seem to have lost contact with the Control Tower.[grinding noises] (999)

644 Name: (*゚ー゚) : 1993-09-7615 23:38

>>642
Taking your place as indicated, you introduce yourself as Mecha Alexei Fujiwara. The girl in lilac clasps her hands together and exclaims "Oh, what a lovely name! I'm Cassandra, but you can call me Cassie-chan." She encourages you to drink your tea, reiterating several times that she made it especially for you. You feel somewhat guilty to have such horrible suspicions of such a fine, upstanding young lady.

You make vague refusals until, at last, she takes a sip herself. Relieved of your outlandish delusions of poisoning - how absurd! - you partake of the tea yourself. Naturally, you think to yourself, you're already undead anyway, so poison wouldn't have much effect on you. You can only be rendered inanimate by lowering your bodily integrity below 80%.

Your musings are interrupted by the truly incredible taste of the tea. It is intertwined with strong fragrances of lavender, with sweet, floral undertones. The aftertaste is slightly bitter - bitterness is usually to be avoided in teas, but in this particular case it balances the more powerful tastes beautifully. You close your eyes and give a long, satisfied sigh. All your worries, your stress, your fear and your existential angst are exorcised from your body. In a state of hitherto unknown bliss, you drift away from consciousness. The last thing you perceive is Cassie-chan giggling gently.

Mecha Alexei Fujiwara has left your party, and is no longer a playable character.

>>643
You are now playing as Jack Conundrum-chan. You do the splits over the skylight, displaying to all below the unknowable horrors lurking in your skirt. You keep an eye on the events unfolding beneath you as you amuse yourself by speaking gibberish. The commander drops the stone knife and slowly, in a trance, removes his visored helmet, revealing himself as a man with white hair and a full, bushy beard. He stares upwards at the void, and extends his hand towards it.

At this moment, one of the other armed men rushes in from the South and tackles the commander to the ground, breaking eye contact with your crotch. The two of them have a brisk exchange of words and the commander puts his helmet back on. He then picks the ceremonial knife back up and strides purposefully towards the man lying on the cube. The other man, in an apparent hurry, runs away to the South.

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