[ he's curious af, ngl. ] Hm. Blank door *could* be excruciating torture and a kick to the nuts. [ snickers like an obnoxious asshole. but! also!! what reason has the host given him to want to help her win the bet? ]
You enter a room, which is square and white and contains no other doors. Lantana is sitting there in a folding chair, looking distinctly exasperated.
"Really?" she says. "Really—well, all right, I guess I might lose that bet. Honestly, well—I suppose I have to follow through, but—listen, when someone says one door contains excruciating torture, maybe choose the other one, next time?"
And then the floor opens up beneath you, and you fall into another room, which is, by contrast, dark—and immediately, something grabs you, holding your limbs tightly in place.
A pleasant, female voice says over a loudspeaker:
"You have chosen: Excruciating Torture."
The room is too hot, except when freezing implements are pressed to your skin. Hammers are taken to your hands, knives to skin, pliers to the tenderest parts of your face, and none of it is enough to give you the mercy of death. It feels as though it goes on for hours. Days, maybe? How long have you been down here?
Eventually, you are deposited—bruised, broken, and bleeding—into the lobby of the Game Tower.
ROUND 1: Discussion
Re: ROUND 1: Discussion
Bring it on, game.
ROUND 1: Choices
no subject
CW: TORTURE?? YOU CHOSE THIS
"Really?" she says. "Really—well, all right, I guess I might lose that bet. Honestly, well—I suppose I have to follow through, but—listen, when someone says one door contains excruciating torture, maybe choose the other one, next time?"
And then the floor opens up beneath you, and you fall into another room, which is, by contrast, dark—and immediately, something grabs you, holding your limbs tightly in place.
A pleasant, female voice says over a loudspeaker:
"You have chosen: Excruciating Torture."
The room is too hot, except when freezing implements are pressed to your skin. Hammers are taken to your hands, knives to skin, pliers to the tenderest parts of your face, and none of it is enough to give you the mercy of death. It feels as though it goes on for hours. Days, maybe? How long have you been down here?
Eventually, you are deposited—bruised, broken, and bleeding—into the lobby of the Game Tower.