Week 4.

[trustmods]

WEEK 4 Ashley Williams and Asuka Langley Shikinami have joined the ranks of the deceased. Two more deaths, two more people whose absences will be felt by the group; a bit over one-fifth of the Participants are dead. And this week, it seems everyone is feeling it. They say three times can be considered a routine, and the fourth week of the exercise isn't breaking pattern any. Saturday can be given to rest and sleep; on Sunday morning, the clock chimes the hour at seven o'clock. There are no more bodies, no more bloodstains; there's nothing else to be found this morning. Unless, of course, you count whatever you found last night, strange dreams or otherwise. Once again, there's a new floor to explore; after everything that trial decided to be yesterday, you deserve the reward. And for the second time, there are rule changes, effective immediately. You might want to take note of them. PARTICIPANTS REMAINING: 23

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[OOC: Welcome to week four of Trustfell! Save your threads for coins and the coming week's activity check; don't forget to check in to this week's activity check and submit your memory regains as well!

The Letters and Switchboard posts are still active, for the sake of contacting the jerk who's keeping you here, to be used at your leisure!]

Comments

Kitchen

[charcoalfeather]

[At some point in her pursuit of bread and a cup of joe, Susan might see Rakka blearily wander into the kitchen as well. She stops at the sight of Susan, looking as though she wants to say something, before letting it drop. but then she picks it up again.]

A-ah, good morning, Susan.

[ninehundredlives]

Good morning.

[Well, that's fine. How's Rakka doing?]

[charcoalfeather]

[A little nod as she wandered over to the cabinets, looking for that cinnamon tea she got a while back.]

How - [A yawn slips out.] - are you? Did you sleep well?

[ninehundredlives]

About as well as usual.

[Translation: absolutely not]

And yourself?

[charcoalfeather]

Oh... [Yeesh. she understands. Sort of.]

Uhh, I'm doing alright, I think. [Translation: Not really.]

...Would you like anything? I-I can make something.

[ninehundredlives]

I'm fine.

[She has her coffee, that's all she needs.]

I don't mind making you something, if you like?

[charcoalfeather]

[She could see that, or rather, she could smell it.

With that suggestion, though, she perks up a little.]

Really? You would do that?

[ninehundredlives]

Of course I would. It's only breakfast.

[She can manage that much.]

[charcoalfeather]

O-oh. [Well, yeah, when you say it like that...

She thought it over. Then, she smiled.] Yes, I would love that.

[ninehundredlives]

Alright then. [Susan stands, smoothing out the fabric of her pants needlessly.] What would you like?

[charcoalfeather]

Hmm... [She stands out of the way of Susan, gaze slowly lifting upward to the ceiling, like it held the answer the older woman was asking for. It was on the tip of her tongue.

Something she liked, something that tasted great...]

... Pancakes...?

[Huh.]

[ninehundredlives]

Ah, good choice. I like pancakes.

[well there you go then]

[charcoalfeather]

W-wait, I was just thinking about... [Strange that a memory like that decided to pop up. Why did the scent of cake do that? ...Bah, another hole that needed filling.

.... the one in her stomach.]

I mean... you'll make it? [well, that's awesome. Now that she's thought of it, she can't get it out of her head.] Well, thank you.

[ninehundredlives]

You're welcome. I may as well do something.

[She likes Rakka. She also likes pancakes. This is good.] Do you like them with blueberries?

[charcoalfeather]

[Social link.... go?]

I don't know. [She says rather simply with a smile.] Can we try it?

[ninehundredlives]

Sure we can.

[Susan starts getting out the supplies for pancakes. She hasn't made them in like a decade but you know, it's fine.]

[charcoalfeather]

[It appears to be fine. Rakka hadn't expected this to go the way it did, but now she can't really see it going any other way. So, now they were making pancakes. Neato.

Thinking quickly, Rakka darts to the fridge, reappearing with a plastic bag of blueberries that she sets on the counter.]

[ninehundredlives]

Thanks.

Normally I'd just make it out of a box, but I think I remember how to do it from scratch. My dad used to do that.

[charcoalfeather]

That's good... because I don't remember how to make them at all. [A tired, little laugh at that. Rakka was comfortable enough to poke a little fun at her own amnesia. As long as there were good people around her, she couldn't feel that bad. Could she?]

Maybe we should ask the Conductor for some mix next time?

[ninehundredlives]

I don't want his mix. It's probably terrible.

[A recipe might be nice though. She's just gonna eyeball the dry ingredients and hope it's good enough?]

[charcoalfeather]

...Yeah, maybe you're probably right. [She can't really argue with that. The normal tea they have here is nothing compared to the stuff in the machine.

Rakka moved to the counter, standing off to the side of Susan and basically watching her with curious and large eyes. What does she expect to happen? Who knows - Susan is the one that can cook.]

[ninehundredlives]

[YEP let's go with that]

Do you want to mix the dry ingredients?

[charcoalfeather]

[Sure, what's the worst that could happen.]

Uh, sure! I'd love to help.

[ninehundredlives]

Okay, here. Just stir it.

[She'll go get the milk and butter and shit while you do that. She could have done it herself, of course, but she wanted to include Rakka a bit.]

[charcoalfeather]

Right.

[She'll... handle this whole thing then, while Susan goes off for other things. What did she need.... flour, sugar - she didn't want the mix, right? No, she said that. Hmm...

Apart from causing a minor dust cloud, and a little coughing, Susan's going to find that Rakka's actually.... doing a pretty good job mixing all the things.]