Imeeji Idol Productions

[Your chamber is a large, glass-walled room shaped like a slice of pie. Above, the glass walls extend up into darkness. If there’s a ceiling, it’s impossible to see. There don’t appear to be any other ways out of this room, either.]

[Although the room is lit, you can’t see any particular source of light. You cannot see or hear into the other chambers where the other idols are, but you can still see distorted glimpses of whatever is on the outside of your fish bowl. What could be out there...?]

[Your chamber is a large, glass-walled room shaped like a slice of pie. Above, the glass walls extend up into darkness. If there’s a ceiling, it’s impossible to see. There don’t appear to be any other ways out of this room, either.]

[Although the room is lit, you can’t see any particular source of light. You cannot see or hear into the other chambers where the other idols are, but you can still see distorted glimpses of whatever is on the outside of your fish bowl. What could be out there...?]

[ The room you wake up in is barren. The floor, walls, and ceiling are all metal, and the only furnishings are a large television-sized touchscreen monitor and . . . glass chairs. That doesn't seem very comfortable.

The monitor displays a catalogue of pictures of flowers, each with their name, associated meaning, and a checkbox underneath them, along with the option to send those flowers to either group. ]

[ The room you wake up in is barren. The floor, walls, and ceiling are all metal, and the only furnishings are a large television-sized touchscreen monitor and . . . glass chairs. That doesn't seem very comfortable.

The monitor displays a catalogue of pictures of flowers, each with their name, associated meaning, and a checkbox underneath them, along with the option to send those flowers to either group. ]

[ as you exit the elevator you find yourself in a sleek control room, though the subtle drip^drip_drop of water coming from one of the corners of the room tells you that you're likely several leagues under the sea. it's fine... probably. sitting in the center of the room is an enormous table boasting a 3D grid with a display of ships that may look a familiar! to its left and to its right are more screens that seem to be showing nonsense, some of which are flashing, and there are dozens and dozens of buttons just begging to be pressed. comfortable chairs surround the table if you'd like to sit, but feel free to stand if that's your thing. at the head of the room is, perhaps, the largest computer monitor and its displaying a duplicate grid of the one on the center table... except it's blank. for now. it's these two grids that you'll be using in today's game. ]

[ you open your eyes to find yourself in a room that might look familiar if you just so happened to be a certified zombie survivalist. however, if you were lucky enough to avoid the zombie meet & greet, then welcome to the dankest heckhole in tokyo-f. ]

[ the overhead lights flicker often enough to instantly grind your gears, while simultaneously doing next to nothing to illuminate the dilapidated little room. though a chorus of moans and groans rise from outside, all the doors and windows are securely barricaded, making the shambling monsters a non-issue... though it's possible their existence alone may put you on edge. ]

[ or maybe that's the -fsssst- sound, a subtle hissing coming from what could have passed for fire sprinklers. for the duration of the game a colorless and odorless gas is going to be filling the room, one that clouds judgements and exacerbates anxiety. but, hey!, that's what the janky table and busted chairs in the corner of the room featuring cold tea and dry biscuits is for - a carefully curated space for you and yours to kick back, relax, and KEEP TALKING. ]

[ the center of the room is where the main event sits, a BOMB, with several thick cords snaking out from it connecting to a bunch of different buttons. the entire thing is housed in an unbreakable glass cube, with only the buttons in reach of your grubby hands. a tv screen is suspended overhead, currently displaying the rules & winning conditions, but that's all about to change... ]

[ in the meantime feel free to enjoy a particularly messy wall, one stained with all sorts of things from the last bunch that tried and failed to win, ew! ]

[ you open your eyes to find yourself in a room that might look familiar if you just so happened to be a certified zombie survivalist. however, if you were lucky enough to avoid the zombie meet & greet, then welcome to the dankest heckhole in tokyo-f. ]

[ the overhead lights flicker often enough to instantly grind your gears, while simultaneously doing next to nothing to illuminate the dilapidated little room. though a chorus of moans and groans rise from outside, all the doors and windows are securely barricaded, making the shambling monsters a non-issue... though it's possible their existence alone may put you on edge. ]

[ or maybe that's the -fsssst- sound, a subtle hissing coming from what could have passed for fire sprinklers. for the duration of the game a colorless and odorless gas is going to be filling the room, one that clouds judgements and exacerbates anxiety. but, hey!, that's what the janky table and busted chairs in the corner of the room featuring cold tea and dry biscuits is for - a carefully curated space for you and yours to kick back, relax, and KEEP TALKING. ]

[ the center of the room is where the main event sits, a BOMB, with several thick cords snaking out from it connecting to a bunch of different buttons. the entire thing is housed in an unbreakable glass cube, with only the buttons in reach of your grubby hands. a tv screen is suspended overhead, currently displaying the rules & winning conditions, but that's all about to change... ]

[ in the meantime feel free to enjoy a particularly messy wall, one stained with all sorts of things from the last bunch that tried and failed to win, ew! ]

[ you open your eyes to find yourself in a room that might look familiar if you just so happened to be a certified zombie survivalist. however, if you were lucky enough to avoid the zombie meet & greet, then welcome to the dankest heckhole in tokyo-f. ]

[ the overhead lights flicker often enough to instantly grind your gears, while simultaneously doing next to nothing to illuminate the dilapidated little room. though a chorus of moans and groans rise from outside, all the doors and windows are securely barricaded, making the shambling monsters a non-issue... though it's possible their existence alone may put you on edge. ]

[ or maybe that's the -fsssst- sound, a subtle hissing coming from what could have passed for fire sprinklers. for the duration of the game a colorless and odorless gas is going to be filling the room, one that clouds judgements and exacerbates anxiety. but, hey!, that's what the janky table and busted chairs in the corner of the room featuring cold tea and dry biscuits is for - a carefully curated space for you and yours to kick back, relax, and KEEP TALKING. ]

[ the center of the room is where the main event sits, a BOMB, with several thick cords snaking out from it connecting to a bunch of different buttons. the entire thing is housed in an unbreakable glass cube, with only the buttons in reach of your grubby hands. a tv screen is suspended overhead, currently displaying the rules & winning conditions, but that's all about to change... ]

[ in the meantime feel free to enjoy a particularly messy wall, one stained with all sorts of things from the last bunch that tried and failed to win, ew! ]

[ you open your eyes to find yourself in a room that might look familiar if you just so happened to be a certified zombie survivalist. however, if you were lucky enough to avoid the zombie meet & greet, then welcome to the dankest heckhole in tokyo-f. ]

[ the overhead lights flicker often enough to instantly grind your gears, while simultaneously doing next to nothing to illuminate the dilapidated little room. though a chorus of moans and groans rise from outside, all the doors and windows are securely barricaded, making the shambling monsters a non-issue... though it's possible their existence alone may put you on edge. ]

[ or maybe that's the -fsssst- sound, a subtle hissing coming from what could have passed for fire sprinklers. for the duration of the game a colorless and odorless gas is going to be filling the room, one that clouds judgements and exacerbates anxiety. but, hey!, that's what the janky table and busted chairs in the corner of the room featuring cold tea and dry biscuits is for - a carefully curated space for you and yours to kick back, relax, and KEEP TALKING. ]

[ the center of the room is where the main event sits, a BOMB, with several thick cords snaking out from it connecting to a bunch of different buttons. the entire thing is housed in an unbreakable glass cube, with only the buttons in reach of your grubby hands. a tv screen is suspended overhead, currently displaying the rules & winning conditions, but that's all about to change... ]

[ in the meantime feel free to enjoy a particularly messy wall, one stained with all sorts of things from the last bunch that tried and failed to win, ew! ]