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

vending machine

[matchbreaker]

[ Oh, Elda was here to snatch up that glass eye really...

... But then there's that whole scene with the photos and the woman swoops down to try to pick some of them up for Alex, but she goes down just as quick and now they're both crouched and she looks a little teary and... uh.

Well then. ]

If you don't want to mess them up, want me to keep 'em in hand?

[sleepytimegal]

[ Oh, that's right there are. Other people here, aren't there, other...people who exist, outside of her and these photos and the memories they represent that couldn't have possibly happened. Alex dimly nods but at the same time refuses to let go of the one she's holding. The hand that's trying to gather up the other photos, it drifts to the face of the boy in that picture, shaking. Michael... ]

This- this is impossible.

[matchbreaker]

...Why?

[ Okay, she'll just.. collect all these up then? Or something? ... Honestly, at this point, the girl's face is a lot more interesting so she doesn't even think to steal her other stuff as she's getting the rest of the photos in order and glancing at them.

... Oh.

a lot of these looks almost like the same photos, but with different people? ]

[sleepytimegal]

[ For. A few reasons, really. ]

He can't- this stuff didn't...happen.

[matchbreaker]

It would seem pretty tacky to take so many of the same photos.

[ With different people, that is? She keeps flipping for a moment more before they just collect them together in one little stack. ]

[sleepytimegal]

No, I mean- this didn't happen. [ Her shoulders tremble. ] Only- b-but he- he can't be there, and we- we only- I never took those.

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . Mmm, she stumbled on something creepy then. She frowns at the photos. She never took these - he can't be there? ... Someone in these is impossible. Moved away or ... more probably, he died. She nods to herself. ]

... I mean, it could have to do with those dimension things.

[sleepytimegal]

Huh? [ She wipes at her face with her sleeve. ] You... You mean a me that's...not me, in these?

[ And obviously, others that...aren't what she knows. ]

[matchbreaker]

Maybe? I don't know anything about those, but Rideuax said that the number of "floors" we'd be apart is a matter of dozens or hundreds. The smaller differences, a floor or two, would be more like what that Tabitha girl was on about, right? something different happened, like people posed different in a photo.

[ . . . Still, she doesn't sound at all sure. ]

[sleepytimegal]

[ ... ]

Worlds where...he could've been there. [ That is...something she needs to consider, and it seems that hits her even harder? Her hand trembles. ]

Where he didn't... [ She lets her teeth sink into her lower lip. Mmmnngh- mmmmm. ]

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . Elda sighs, and she... hits Alex lightly on the head with what's in her hand. ]

Look, you've got no reason to tell me what's eating you, but you've also got no reason to make a mess of yourself where everyone's looking. Let's get you to the bathroom and wash off your face.

[sleepytimegal]

[ She jumps with a start. She knew Elda was there, but the contact's surprising, and... She hadn't even been thinking about that. Michael. Just the sight of him, it was enough to shake all rational thought. Like how she just fell back into the past, in that dream... ]

Um. Right. Yeah. ...Okay. [ She won't argue it; despite her own worries and Elda's general suspicious nature...she doesn't care right now. She doesn't have it in her to. ]

[matchbreaker]

I mean if you don't care, that's no skin off my nose.

[ but that look, those reactions... that's not surprise, of course it's not. She's not stupid - she's suffer many, many terrible losses. Her parents. Her little brother. Her homeland. Her future. Her husband. She's outlived them all. She'd be a really poor survivor if she couldn't smell grief coming off the girl in waves.

So she takes her photos she has with her to lead the other on towards one of the bathrooms. ]

But let's get to it.

[sleepytimegal]

[ Alex stands, keeping the impossible photo of herself and Michael close. Just lead her there. ...She'll, uh. Collect that other stuff later. ]

[matchbreaker]

[ DEal.

... Bathroom, ho! It's not that far. and she's going to set the photos she has down on the countertop, far away from the winks they will presumably use.

But hey, here we are. She'll keep back, out of consideration for the girl. ]

[sleepytimegal]

[ Well, getting a look in the mirror, she is...hot damn, she's a freaking mess. Alex grimaces and sets the photo she's been holding so close on the other photos, so it doesn't get wet.

She more slumps against the sink as she splashes her face than leans against it. The rushing water's...kind of uncomfortable, but not much. Breathe in, breathe out, shut eyes tight, claps face with water, rinse and repeat.

...Just. Wait there, Elda, thanks. ]

[matchbreaker]

[ Yeah, she will. She won't even talk!

...

But she's also not that kind so she is picking up the photos again and sort of flipping through them in order to study them again, trying to sort of quickly memorize all the faces. ]

[sleepytimegal]

[ It's not like Alex'll stop her, she's still preoccupied.

After a few minutes of washing, though, she turns off the sink and lets out a shuddering sigh, shoulders sagging and body pressed against it.

Michael. A world where Michael didn't drown. A world where all of that didn't...happen, where he was on the island with them. Then...Jonas wasn't? No, she saw him. She saw him in the pictures with Michael still, at least in one of them, what's strange- what's weird what's utterly bizarre is, the ones where Clarissa-

Thinking about it hurts her head. ]

[matchbreaker]

[ So... one of these is dead, right? Or well, she shouldn't assume dead even if everything seems to come back to death here. Maybe just moved away. Maybe she had a nasty breakup. Who knows, really? She sure doesn't.

... Mm.

Well, let's just wait for the girl to be done. ]

[sleepytimegal]

[ Alright. Okay, we're good here? ...As good as she can get?

Alex runs a hand over her hair and dries her face best she can. There's a hesitation in her before she turns to face Elda, and when she speaks her voice is small and soft. ]

I, um- thanks, I... Probably woulda just stayed there all day.

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . ]

Grief has a way of making the world seem very small. Or at least, that's always been my experience.

[ She says this in the form of a little soft exhale. The woman steps forward and offers all the pictures back for her. ]

[sleepytimegal]

Yeah. It does. [ The picture of herself and that boy, right on top. Alex studies it and then holds it to her heart. ]

I... It's my brother. He...died. [ The words sort of slip out. ] And these- he shouldn't...be in any of these, because of that.

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . Oh.

... She falters a long moment. Older, clearly? Probably? She frowns and. ]

... I'd be as cross if my folks or brother were in some pictures too.

[sleepytimegal]

It- I hadn't dyed my hair 'til after he...so, when I saw it, I just...

[ There's that little...explanation. She swallows down a lump in her throat and half-shrugs one shoulder. If it's another reality, she should just be happy that somewhere, he's okay, right...? ]

Yeah.

[matchbreaker]

[ With no uncertain timeline, too. She frowns a little deeper and then tries to think of what, if anything, she should say to the (human) girl. She sort of stumbled into a territory she nor anyone else here really has any right to. The fact the girl is explaining herself at all isn't... well, isn't necessary. It's strange, isn't it?

But then, sometimes you just want to be heard.

She frowns, a nail coming up to brush on her lips. She had admitted some of her own loss, should she be more explicit - no. Even to suggest sympathy, a contest of tragedy (even one she would win) doesn't suit the moment. The older vampire hesitates for a moment before she breathes a little harder out of her nose. ]

Then that's a cruel thing to have stuffed in with the rest of that junk. No answer to what it could be - forgery, those dimensions, some spirit photo... none of those are comforting.