WEEK 2.

[trustfellows]

WEEK 2 Two people are dead. Jean Kirstein and Caren have both died due to a tragic accident. Of course, you're not entirely innocent, are you? You voted, you played into this game the Coordinators are running. But you know the stakes now. You know what failure to complete Rule Seven really means. No more excuses from here on out. Saturday is given to regrouping and sleep; come Sunday morning, the clock chimes the hour at seven o'clock and there are no dead bodies to be found, so it can be assumed that all of you are safe for the time being. That said, you'll be feeling a little groggy when you wake up; it seems you've regained something that you didn't realize you'd lost... Of course, exploring the building from here on will reveal something new: namely, a stairwell in the northeastern corner, leading upwards toward a new floor entirely. Another sign of how things are going to progress around here, maybe; chances are you'll enjoy what you've been given, but was it worth the lives of two people to obtain? PARTICIPANTS REMAINING: 33 PARTICIPANTS REMAINING: 32

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week two of Trustfell! Feel free to make as many top levels as you'd like and tag out to other characters! This post is for all of your interactions this week... at least until the weekend. Don't forget to save those threads for coins and the activity check!

If you'd like to get in contact with the Coordinators, you can do so through private meetings with Alena!]

Comments

[ninehundredlives]

["You and I could've been good friends, you know? But right now, it is time for me to let go."

"You're a clever girl, Susan...but the sadness has poisoned you for too long. There is no coming back from it."


In the kitchen this morning, Susan's hands are unsteady as she brews her coffee. She doesn't seem to quite notice when it's ready. She's just staring at the knives in the butcher block, as if her mind is elsewhere.

Even after, she sits there drinking for a long while, long enough that the coffee goes cold. Her knuckles are white around the mug's handle.

But there's nothing to be done about it now. The person she's angry at - the things that happened - it feels like so much more than a dream, but either way none of it is real here and now. She has to keep on moving. Having apparently received a bunch of coins, she takes them all to the vending machine to deposit. You can find her kneeling on the ground amid a pile of random rubbish, either sizing up the black wedding gown or poking, hesitantly, at the animatronic miner thing.]

Why would anyone want this hunk of garbage...? And how did it fit?

[Later, she's in the infirmary, plainly taking stock of what's in there. This time, Susan doesn't try to hide it when she returns a little later with one of the little toolboxes from the storage closet and starts loading it with first-aid supplies. Simple things, really - basic medicines, bandages and a suture kit, gloves. If something happens, it's probably better to just have supplies on hand.]

vending machine

[zomgboom]

If you don't want it, like, I'll take it.

[She will absolutely take the creepy miner off your hands, Susan. She'll put it in Jean's room.]

[ninehundredlives]

It's yours. [She won't even ask for anything in trade if this means she doesn't have to carry it out of here.] Be careful, I think it's leaking.

[She prods it with the Gem destabilizer, and oil streaks down from one of its eyes. Poor Old Goldie, his husband is not here.]

[zomgboom]

It's nothing I haven't seen before. [She says that with a huge eyeroll.] Stupid Aaron is always leaking everywhere. What do you think it, like, does?

[ninehundredlives]

It's got a coin slot in its mouth? Maybe it was supposed to...drop something out?

[She lifts it up a little, gingerly, to keep from getting oil on her sleeve.]

It looks like it used to be attached to some kind of base, and it's been ripped out. To...be shoved in here, I guess. [why]

[zomgboom]

It sort of feels like it doesn't belong here or whatever? [She's studying it, trying to figure out the best way to pick it up.] I mean, like, where did they even get this from?

[ninehundredlives]

It hardly fits the aesthetic. It's a piece of rubbish.

[She feels the place where it was torn out of whatever it was once part of a little more carefully. A deliberate action, surely?]

...so it's weird they put it in there. Maybe somebody else here would recognize it?

[zomgboom]

There's, like, a lot of us so. [It's possible, but it's hers and she was rightfullt gifted it so they can't have it.] . . . Do you think this means our stuff might be in there too?

[ninehundredlives]

The stuff we were taken with? I...guess it could be.

[She hasn't seen anything to indicate that, but it's not at all an outlandish idea.]

There's nothing of mine that's very valuable anyway.

[zomgboom]

It's not about, like, valuable? I just, like, want my cellphone back.

[She hasn't texted anyone in over a week, it's bullshit.]

[ninehundredlives]

It's valuable to you, then. I'm not sure I care either way.

[Unless you've got a bunch of cats in there tbh]

I doubt it'd work in here.

[zomgboom]

You never know. Aaron, like, did something to my phone and now it gets signal in space or whatever so, like, it's totally possible.

[ninehundredlives]

They would...probably know about that, wouldn't they?

[It definitely sounds too useful to be allowed in here. Their luck is pretty shit.]

kitchen

[firstaid]

[At least Susan isn't alone in feeling uneasy, but Estelle is at least aware enough of her surroundings to understand that maybe she isn't the only one that had an odd dream.]

Did you have a difficult time sleeping last night, Susan?

[ninehundredlives]

...yeah. A little. Just weird dreams.

[She turns away, holding her sleeves just for something to do with her hands.] But that makes sense in a place like this, doesn't it?

[firstaid]

You too? What was your dream, if I may ask?

[She's curious since her dream was so vivid it felt real, but certainly that's not the case for everyone here, right?]

[ninehundredlives]

[Susan hesitates.]

I...well, I don't know if you heard, but I said I'd been in an...accident, before all this? I dreamed I woke up in hospital, after it was over.

[That doesn't seem to be the entire thing at all, but it is, strictly speaking, what the dream was about.]

[firstaid]

So... it was like you saw the future? Or...

[It doesn't really make sense, now does it.]

[ninehundredlives]

...or the past. I feel fine now, after all. But...that's silly, right...?

[firstaid]

I don't think it's silly... but it doesn't make sense whatsoever.

[ninehundredlives]

No...

[Are you headed somewhere with this?]

[firstaid]

[Is she? She's not sure...]

But you had a dream, too, a strange dream that felt real.

[She's trying to make sense of all of this.]

I don't have any unexplained injuries so it's hard to relate, but... we're seeing something... that felt real to us. At least that's what it seems like. Almost like a memory. Yet I never experienced anything in my dream before, at least I don't think I did.

[ninehundredlives]

...did other people have dreams, too?

[This is the first she's hearing about this.]

[firstaid]

[She shakes her head.]

I don't know, to be honest. I'll have to ask around.

[ninehundredlives]

Did you have one?