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Week 2.
Two people are dead. Ken Kaneki has been murdered, Reaver has been executed - and perhaps most uncomfortably, the Conductor is proud of you all for adhering to due process. (As always, by which he means that there is a process, and you all are certainly doing it.) 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... However, once you've shaken that off, there are new things to be looked at; the previously closed-off area near the kitchen has been unlocked, and there's a new floor to be explored - consider it your reward for a job well done. |
SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week two 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!]
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[Not to mention it wasn't exactly in his nature to be the helpful sort. But if it got him the hell out of here, he'd make the small concession of almost resembling a team player.]
There's not much of a chance the Conductor would lock a legitimate threat to him in here unless he had a method of keeping that threat from ruining his game.
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[aaa this is actually exciting!]
I got these bandages on me in case those chairs are actually titanium alloy painted to look like wood.
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It's unlikely I'll need bandages, unless I seriously underestimate the situation right now. Either way, I need to test what I might be capable of as things stand.
[SIGH why does he put himself out in this way]
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Still carrying the bundle of medical supplies, he leads the way to the conference room. A chair isn't the Conductor - unless he can shapeshift into one - so they wouldn't be committing violence against him. Totally fine by the written rules.]
Here you are. Lemme back up a bit so as not to get splinters in my face.
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Very well. [Dio shrugged, rolling his shoulders; his left side was still just a little slower to respond, for reasons he was beginning to understand. But right now his major concerns were that he'd barely eaten in a week on top of having no idea what might have been missing apart from his memories.]
[This was going to be a long and irritating confinement, to say the least.]
[But once Mordecai was clear, he curled his right hand into a fist and pulled it back, throwing a solid punch that completely wrecked the chair.]
. . .
[Strangely, Dio just looked annoyed about the result.]
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Mordecai jumps back in surprise at the sound and gives Dio a cautious look. He doesn't look in pain for some reason.]
Well. Well then, now. Wanna test it on a wall? [Was he really their secret weapon?]
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[This kind of strength was impressive, but not what he'd already seen from the stone mask. Something was missing; the raw power to it was clearly lacking.]
[Frowning, he picked a few splinters out of his hand.]
Breaking a chair is one thing, but I'm not certain the power I have now is enough to break down a wall.
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[The best way to learn was through experience. Dio pulled his right fist back again and threw it straight forward, colliding with the wall with a loud crack.]
...
[Which seemed to be more the sound of bones fracturing than it was the wall itself cracking. And Dio seemed like he was just going to stand there with his fist against the wall and a very controlled look of 'oh I just fucked up' on his face.]
. . .
[conceal don't feel don't let it show]
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Looks at the wall.
Looks at his face.]
It...didn't work, did it?
[Painkiller?]
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No. It did not work.
[Mortified, in pain and not sure which was worse gradually Dio would register that maybe he should take his hand off the cracked wall.]
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Y-you should probably move your hand away. And find someone to to fix your hand. That didn't sound good at all.
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[IT'S NOT FINE but hey he'll lower his hand, which is now in agony]
And put those away, I doubt they'll have any effect on me.
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[He has to commend Dio for keeping it together. If this were anyone else, they're be crying by now, not pretending everything is fine.]
...Take it anyway. There should be someone here who can help with you hand.