Survival Difficulty |
2/5 |
Resource management is key to survival. |
Hazard Level |
1/5 |
Practically no hazards. |
Chaos Rating |
2/5 |
Space is mostly tame besides small fixes to destroyed pieces. |
Basset-Frazier Index |
1/5 |
A dull and quiet limspace. |
LIMSPACE OVERVIEW
Description
The sky above is a perfect blue without a single cloud in sight. The sun is held directly above the city, beaming down light—eliminating the shadows that linger in corners. It emanates heat just enough to warm but not enough to scorch. Not a hint of wind graces the town. The leaves on the trees are static but always a verdant green. Likewise, the grass is pristine and unwavering. This would be a perfect day to spend relaxing at a park or exploring downtown with some friends and exchanging laughs. Every day here is perfect; this place is the Plastic Paradise—the ideal city.
This city and everything within is entirely made of plastic—from the skyscrapers to the individual cells in a blade of grass. Everything is masterfully crafted to appear utterly normal despite being plastic. Few would notice anything unusual until taking a moment to piece together everything. The air is stale and heavy, the grass stabs into the soles of those who would walk upon them, and the life found here is merely rigid replicas to fool outsiders into believing this to be an ordinary city.
The exact area of Plastic Paradise has yet to be fully explored as regardless of the distance from the origin ventured, everything continues on as plastic. Even the sky itself is plastic. There is no escape from the plastic.
All who enter the Plastic Paradise end up in the same building placed in the direct center of the first city. The building is a rich town hall with elaborate columns and many stairs. The hall has been converted into a camp for travelers thanks to its scale and positioning in the city. Many outside resources have been brought to the town hall to make it better suited for long-term housing. This includes the only soil one can expect to find in the Plastic Paradise. The building stands out amidst the plastic towers surrounding it because it has been used and added upon for centuries.
Zones
The first zone outside the town hall is called the Synthetic Skyscrapers. This zone contains skyscrapers and specialized buildings, such as banks and museums. Each building is completely furnished and has lifelike models of people one would expect to find within. Office workers smile at their cubicle desks, street vendors call out silently with their hands out, and tourists are bunched in flocks around attractions. However, no matter how much time goes on, the people remain frozen, for they are but plastic. One may be surrounded by smiling faces, but still isolated in the end. Parks with ponds and the sewer system with sewage are also present in this zone, but the liquids that would be present in their Baseline counterparts are instead plastic.
The outskirts of the Synthetic Skyscrapers slowly shape in the second zone—the Silent City. This zone mixes residential, commercial, and industrial zones and buildings. Notably, there are fewer plastic people. This zone is significantly larger than the Synthetic Skyscrapers. This section is considerably larger than the model scale of the city depiction.
The third and final zone is outside of the Silent City. This zone is the Forever Flats. As the name implies, this zone is primarily flat land. Occasional farms with fake crops can be found. The roads here are no longer the imitation asphalt roads of the other zones. Instead, the streets are broken gravel and dirt… still plastic. At the end of the zone, giant walls that climb into the sky are painted to display a world beyond. However, the walls are the end of the space. No attempts at crossing the wall have been successful.
The Plastic Puppeteer
The only entity documented within Plastic Paradise is an otherworldly and partially intangible being dubbed “The Plastic Puppeteer” by those who have encountered it. The Plastic Puppeteer only shows itself by controlling the plastic people of the cities. The bodies move as if attached to strings like puppets—sometimes contorting their parts in ways no human body should move. The Plastic Puppeteer’s true form has not been seen thus far.
The Plastic Puppeteer is mysterious in its actions. It has only ever been observed taking over the plastic people in specific circumstances. First, if a plastic person or animal is destroyed by a wanderer, The Plastic Puppeteer will take over all nearby plastic people and assault the wanderer until their death. The plastic horde stops only when the wanderer has been killed—-breaking themselves in their effort to chase and mutilate. Second, if any of the plastic environment, including plastic life, is broken, The Plastic Puppeteer grabs the broken pieces and takes them far into the false sky before replacing the parts to maintain the illusion. Third, The Plastic Puppeteer takes control of any dead bodies and brings them into the false sky, never to be seen again.
The Plastic Puppeteer is not a hostile entity. If you do not break anything, it won’t hurt you. The intelligence of The Plastic Puppeteer is unknown, but it has been seen using its puppets to speak in rough sign language to wanderers. The messages are all forms of greetings, warnings, and farewells. Complex conversations have not been formed with The Plastic Puppeteer.
ENTRANCES AND EXITS
Entrance
Entrance into Plastic Paradise is only possible using the Plastic Park model kit. This unique object has been passed between Keepers in Baseline. By placing your hand upon the designated spot on the kit, a near-instantaneous teleportation into the Plastic Paradise occurs.
Exit
Exiting Plastic Paradise is exceptionally easy. All wanderers have to do is walk back through the door they entered from. Doing this, wanderers will find themselves in The Rainy Refuge. From then on, it is a straightforward process to return to baseline.
Intro
When I first came here, all was tranquil. It was the perfect place for me to meditate and connect with strands of The Lost Pieces. The only disturbances I could expect were those caused by my fellow man. However, I found places away from their busy lives such as atop the towers, amidst the fields, and upon the lakes. It was enjoyable, and I was able to pinpoint the location of one of The Lost Pieces. I was overjoyed to see even the slightest presence of him along the threads of the veil! But, my connection was eviscerated in a single loud snap. I was dazed because of the sudden snapping mixed with the side effects of the eel meat. But I was still able to recognize that the plastic world of tranquility was no more.
The pretend sky cracked like glass and shattered into a blinding white expanse. As it scattered shards of plastic shrapnel down on the land, I felt like I was being drained of all my feelings. The steady warmth was gone, replaced by nothing. I couldn’t feel any temperature besides my own body heat. It felt like I was in a vacuum of emptiness. It would have been great for connecting to the veil, but I couldn’t concentrate. With the false sky’s destruction, the artificial sun also dissipated. All the shadows of the plastic world were erased. The world around me felt static.
If I wanted to reunite with The Lost Piece that I had found, I would have to make it out of the plastic land. Thus, I traveled to find the exit—-jotting down the changes I noticed in the world. However, I was unable to find the exit but thanks to the absence of death in this purgatory, I am in no real danger here. However, I do wish to escape. Before I make my voyage beyond the walls into the desolate white void, I will pass my information on to you in the archives so that no one else comes into this horrid world.
Description
The Plastic Paradise is more like a Plastic Purgatory now. Even though Paradise was dull and stagnant, it does not even compare to this static. There is no life or death here. There is no change in the environment. There is no change in anything that is outside humanity. We are all that can change here. Even then, we don’t age or have any physical needs! By Sorrowthing, we can’t even cry! All we can do is move, talk, and think.
The exit in the town hall doesn’t work anymore. I saw the first batch of people try to open the door. They pulled it off the hinges only to be greeted with another door. A dozen times, they took each door off the hinges. Eventually, they realized we were trapped here. But hope was not completely lost. We found that the four walls at the edge of the limspace had fallen down. A desolate white void lay all around the city.
Another change in the limspace I found was that The Plastic Puppeteer no longer repaired any damage. The broken bodies of many plastic people littered the streets for a while. After… some time… or maybe none at all, The Plastic Puppeteer started to whisk away all the broken pieces into the white void. However, they didn’t repair the damage. In addition, whenever someone broke a plastic person, they would freeze in place. Closer inspection showed they had been completely turned into plastic. This caused some joy as a few saw this as an escape… then we heard their heartbeats under the plastic.
The final change I noticed was the addition of some extremely out-of-place creatures and objects. They were not made of plastic and were often alone. Each one looked like it came from another world. It was bewildering. Most of these outsiders were found in the fields. Someone even found a human from the white void. But that human died of starvation. This made me realize that it was just us in the Plastic Purgatory that are immortal. We were cursed by the breaking of the sky.
Thankfully, I stumbled across a pale tree that spoke to me. The tree sprouted a large fruit, like an apple, that dropped before me and cracked to reveal a small computer. The tree told me that I could make a report to you in the archives with the computer. I was ecstatic to be able to tell any Puzzlers of the Lost in the archives about The Lost Piece that I found, but something made me change my mind and detail the plastic land I was in. I am typing this from the computer the tree gave me.
I have detailed all that I found in this Plastic Purgatory. Please make good use of my findings. Save those desperate souls at the door. Do not worry for me, as I am heading off into the void in search of an escape. My companions and I are great survivalists thanks to our many years of hunting The Lost Pieces. The immortality we have now should also prove handy.
Vagrant Sieben.
Marco’s journal was given to Venturer Solomon at The Rainy Refuge by a large vulture-like bird made of plastic scraps. Before Solomon could say anything, the bird flew into the rainy sky. The bird has not been seen again.
Entry 1
My name is Marco. This journal will detail my trip through the limspace called Plastic Paradise. Marking the time will be difficult as the sun of the space does not move. The clocks, likewise, do not move. The entire place is at a standstill… it always has been. It feels kinda weird walking down the streets of the city. Sometimes, it's just me moving through the world that looks lively but caught in time. It all seems so real, but I know it's all plastic all the way down.
Nevermind. I am an idiot. I brought my watch. I’ll write every 24 hours roughly. So far, I haven’t seen anything strange. When I arrived, no one was awake in the town hall, so I quietly snuck out. The sun was dazing initially, but I got used to it quickly. Looking at the city from the top of the steps certainly felt weird. My goal is to walk to the Northern wall and back. Hopefully, that long trek will provide something new to contribute to the archives.
That concludes entry 1.
Entry 2
I rested in a hotel room last night. The clerk at the front smiled endlessly at me. It was somewhat creepy, but I made my way past her it and got a room key. The bed was stiff, but I packed a great sleeping bag to lay atop it. Comfort in this plastic land is scarce. I rechecked my supplies before heading to bed. I figured I would get some good quiet sleep because the hotel was a bit away from the town hall. However, throughout the night, I heard the sound of heavy thuds, breathing, and moaning next door. A sudden loud cracking noise spurred me from my rest. The next thing I heard was dozens of doors opening and a guy screaming. The screams stopped after a few minutes, but those minutes were long to me huddled in my cotton cocoon.
When I left my room a bit later, now full of energy, I found a battered corpse scattered across the hallway. He was torn apart by something. Most likely The Plastic Puppeteer. Not my first time looking at a corpse, so I checked out of the hotel. I placed the key neatly at the front desk and noticed the clerk was in a different position. Her Its hands were clenched into fists.
I continued my voyage and stopped at the Silent City. I didn’t want to break a window to get into one of the homes and risk angering The Plastic Puppeteer. So, I searched for a home with an open door or window. However, my search was fruitless. I took refuge with some Vagrants and their campsite by a lake. They are certainly a strange bunch. I don’t know what they do or believe, but they seem friendly.
That concludes entry 2.
Entry 3
I left the camp and continued my walk. It was mundane. I walked for hours without the surroundings changing at all. It is still just houses and parks. Luckily, I found an older home with a broken door. I'd hate to live here if this were a real home made of actual materials. But all the cobwebs and nails here are fake! Anyway, I don’t think I will make it to the wall for another few days.
That concludes entry 3.
Entry 4
Time passes faster than you would think down here… yet not fast at all. I found myself lost on the trek as a zombie. How far had I traveled? My memory betrayed my every effort to know. I eventually found myself at the edge.
The wall has been knocked down. As I write, I sit atop its painted façade, staring off into a white void. I feel off. Something about what I am seeing is making me feel awful and plain. I would feel like room temperature if that were a way to be. I am nothing good, nothing bad. I simply am. Even after my long walk through the city and plains, I don't feel tired. Not that I feel energized. Just neutral in energy. I couldn’t run a marathon, but I also don’t feel like I need to rest.
I’m going to head back to the town hall. This incident is good enough for my report.
That concludes entry 4.
Entry 5
I’ve felt very sluggish on my walk. The sky is gone. The alarm buzzed for me to write, but there wasn’t much to write about. The trek is a bit harder going back since, for some reason, the roads aren’t being repaired from their cracked conditions. I’ll write the next time something happens.
What is happening to me? Is this not horrifying? Why am I so calm?
That concludes entry 5.
Entry 6
Time has passed. How much, I don’t know. I fell upon my watch and broke it into dozens of pieces across the pavement. I dropped all my food under a tree because the weight slowed me down. I haven’t felt hungry in quite some time. Or really anything at all. I’m sort of just walking.
I saw some people laughing around a television in a home. I went over to investigate, but I found that there was only one woman. The rest of the people were made of plastic. The TV displayed a blank screen, but she kept laughing and conversing with the plastic people. It was peculiar at the time. However, the more I walked, the more cases I found like this. There were real people mixed in with the fakes—living as if everything was normal. I need to get out of this hell soon. Thankfully, I’m approaching the skyscraper zone in a few minutes.
That concludes entry 6.
Entry 7
I can’t leave. No one can. The door back opens to another door endlessly like a twisted joke. The people in the hall all looked awful. They looked like husks devoid of feeling. The few who had any emotion to them seemed mentally unstable. There was this old guy who just kept counting each second. Looking at him, I felt like I was looking at crumbling ruins buried beneath the sand, standing against time and slowly withering.
I gathered some info from the few who would actually speak to me. We don’t know how to escape or if there is an escape. However, there is some good news in that we can break the plastic environment without consequence. We can’t break any plastic people else we will turn into plastic ourselves. Such a strange change in the limspace. I wonder why? What caused this shift?
I will gather more info before heading out to the white void again. Some think there may be an escape out there.
That concludes entry 7.
Entry 8
I have a companion now following me. She is very nice, quiet, and familiar. She is also quite fluffy! She looks almost exactly like my childhood cat Foggy. She even has the same scar across her back leg. I found her sitting on a bench in the city. I almost cried when I saw her, but no tears came. When I hugged her and felt her warm coat, I was filled with energy within this plastic land for the first time in a while.
Besides little Foggy, I found a few things also not made of plastic. First, what looked like a suit of medieval knight armor mixed with a clockwork robot. It was just sauntering down a sidewalk, slashing the heads of any plastic people in its way. I decided to stay clear of it. I stalked it from the other side of the street. While trailing it, a human in a daze turned the corner in front of it and promptly had their head cleaved off their body. There was a loud snap and crunch as the blade lopped the head off. But the human was still alive. The head tried talking and stared at me for several minutes. It was very haunting.
I also met a spider person. She was spindly and pale as a ghost. She had a thin haircoat over her body that made her nightmarish appearance almost look approachable. Foggy hissed at her, but the spider gave a fanged smile and ignored her. From our short conversation, I gathered that she had fallen from her home in some place called "Rotsoul" and now wandered the white void gathering resources from what little scraps she found. From one of her large backpacks, she gave me a fancy pen with blue ink and gold coating. Apparently, she had no need for it and saw that I was a writer. Looking at it now, I don't think I can use it. It's too pretty. Before I could get the spider girl's name and species to note, she left.
The last non-plastic thing I stumbled across is much duller than the others. In the middle of the road, there was a rowboat snapped in two. It smelled of wood, water, and blood. However, I could find no blood on it or nearby. Nothing else to note about the boat. I wonder where these things are coming from.
Anyways, I am almost in the fields now.
That concludes entry 8.
Entry 9
Been a while. I’m back at the town hall again. Just sitting on the roof, staring at the horizon of white. I messed up badly. I lost Foggy. I don’t know where to begin.
I don’t know why but at some point, I turned around and headed back to the hall. I had fuzzy memories of meeting this super ancient-looking guy in a cloak playing the flute in a park surrounded by plastic people and birds. His tune was out of this world. I felt pulled to him like a moth to a blaze. We talked briefly, and he gave me a blisteringly hot key of brass or perhaps gold.
When I returned to the town hall, some people who turned out to be guards told me to drop Foggy outside. I asked why, and they said that plastics weren’t allowed inside. This caught me off guard, as Foggy was clearly not plastic. I cradled her and showed the guards how she made soft purrs when petting her ears. Still, the guards wouldn’t let me in. I admit I was being stubborn. I could have just gone somewhere else. But I continued to fight. Thanks to my stubbornness, one of the guards yanked Foggy out of my hands and threw her down the stairs.
I watched as she whimpered before falling apart into a bloody mess on the steps. As I went to pick up her pieces, they were whisked into the air and into the void. I grieved before entering the town hall. The old man counting the time was still counting. He stopped counting to tell me I had been gone for 44 years. Had it really been that long?
I’m planning on heading out to the void. The blazing key in my hand feels like it is guiding me to the white expanse. I need to save my cat. I must rescue Foggy. I don’t know when I will next write. I don’t even know why I am still writing and to who.
That concludes entry 9.
Entry 10:
Marco walked into Nadir. For years, he continued into the infinite white. He passed many who had fallen. Zealots with glassed-over eyes, lone wanderers, and those from times long erased. The zealots looked familiar, as Marco had met them in the Plastic Paradise beforehand, but Marco cared not to investigate further. He was dead set on his mission. He would not succumb to the dullness.
Years turned to decades. He walked across pockets of other worlds left decaying—fighting to climb atop each other to escape Nadir. Jungles sprouting from oceans of acid, deserts of trash, and labyrinths of amalgamated human complexes like hospitals and schools. Marco walked through all of them, not caring for the damage he endured.
Decades turned into centuries. Marco found the planet of plastic waste. Mountains towering millions of miles into the sky, all full of plastic refuse. Bricks, signs, and limbs formed a vibrant and dead-color landscape. Marco ventured through the land in search of his anchor… Foggy.
Centuries turned into millenniums. Finally, Marco found Foggy in its plastic form. The statue sat atop a throne at the top of a mountain, towering into the empty cosmos. Marco sat on the throne and cradled the pieces of Foggy. As far as he could see, a rainbow of plastic waste stretched. He smiled and closed his eyes… turning into plastic.
I saw it all unfold. Someone so broken as to cross my treacherous domain and sit atop my throne of failure… it was unbelievable. I stared at his cracked plastic face and wondered. Perhaps there is beauty in imperfection. Thank you, Marco.
Sincerely, Third Hand The Plastic Puppeteer.