[color=Red][u][b]Eli[/b][/u][/color]
You wake up alone in the center of a huge circular room, leaning against a pedestal resembling a short marble column. Most of the room is a sterile light gray, but the walls in all directions are lined with bizarre doors with colorful door frames. You stand up and stretch, but as you look around you realize that every door other than the one you were facing had pedestals in front of them not unlike the one you were leaning against. Each pedestal bears oddly shaped indentations, as if specific objects were meant to be placed atop them. There is only one exception; the pedestal in the center of the room, the one you were leaning against, which instead bears a large red button just begging to be pressed. You resist the temptation, unsure of the consequences.

Try as you might, you can’t remember how you ended up here, or anything in the past for that matter. You start to worry you have brain damage or something, but you don’t seem to have any trouble remembering your multiplication tables or how the water cycle works. You know your name is Eli, and that your favorite food is steak, but for anything beyond that you draw a blank. You start to look through your clothes for some kind of clue, but besides the discovery that your belt is made to look somewhat like a tail, there’s nothing to give you any indication of who you are.

Turning your attention outward for clues, you walk up to the door without a pedestal. Upon closer inspection, it’s completely flat without a knob or any apparent mechanism to open it. You look around and realize all the doors are like this, but this one seems different. The door and door frame are pitch black, and unlike the other doors, it bears a large lock connected to numerous chains which lead off into the edges of the door. You reach past the chains to the black surface, but it just seems like a solid wall. The other doors seem to let you see through them a bit, with a blurred preview of what lies beyond. You pick a random one with a blue frame and move over to it. You reach out your hand, expecting to be able to lean on it so you could look closer, but it instead phases through, and you almost fall right in. You pull your hand out on instinct, but after confirming you are unharmed, you venture a peek inside only to see a pitch black void. You hesitate for a while, pacing about the room and occasionally eyeing the big red button in the center, but since you still don’t trust the button, and you have nothing else to do, you eventually go back to the blue-framed door and cross its threshold entirely. After but a moment of inky nothingness, you suddenly find yourself on your back, on a bed of sand, staring directly up at the sun.

Your memory is pretty foggy right now, but you're pretty sure you've seen the sun at least once before. This sun... isn't the same. You can look straight at it without any issue. It just doesn't seem nearly as bright, not even as taxing on the eyes as a simple lightbulb. In spite of that, the sand and the rest of the beach you are just now becoming cognizant of lights up beneath it. As you examine it curiously, you notice a slim wedge cut across its radius. You try to figure out what it is for a while, which is made easier as you notice it slowly growing bigger.

Yes, this must be… a distraction.

Where the hell are you exactly?

As far as you can tell, you’re just on a beach near some kind of resort, except there’s enough ocean visible in enough directions to know you’re on an island. Who builds a resort, or anything for that matter, on a tiny island like this one?

You get up and start taking a not so long walk on the beach. Even if there was more beach upon which to walk, you want to check out the resort. You were just in some place that was clearly indoors, so there are only so many ways to reconcile how you got here. Still, as unreliable as your memory may be, you’re pretty damn sure there wasn’t any interim between stepping into that blue door frame and waking up on the beach.

As you get to the lobby, you find it’s pretty mundane, if tropical. It seems like a standard hotel lobby, albeit with an open air design that makes the waiting area furniture stick out a bit. You don’t see any guests, but there are a few human receptionists available for you to accost with your arrant inquiries. They don’t acknowledge you as you walk up to them, simply staring off into the distance unblinkingly. It’s pretty weird after a couple of seconds, but the nearest one immediately turns to face you when you try to get their attention.

[color=red]”...Hello?”[/color]

“Welcome to the Last Resort, the Last Resort you’ll ever need! Can I get you a room?”

[color=red]“No thank you. Could you tell me about this place and how I got here?”[/color]

“The Last Resort is a beach-front luxury resort. We aim to provide our guests with everything they need for a restful and relaxing vacation. You got here by walking.”

He speaks matter-of-factly, without a hint of sass. He radiates customer service to the point that it’s slightly disturbing. In any case, he doesn’t seem to know anything, so you sit down in one of the surprisingly comfy chairs, considering your next course of action.

[@vanovick]