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Didn't we just do this last week?
[It's starting to look like this is going to be a weekly occurrence.
Just like last week, Cabanela waits a while before he makes his rounds, writing everyone quick notes and sliding them under each occupied door.]
Stay strong.
If you don't want to be alone tonight, meet in the dining hall.
-Cabanela
[Like last week, Cabanela hasn't bothered to provide anyone with food-- that would just be... rude right now, he thinks. Upon first entering, you'll notice that there are now four lit candles in the center of one of the tables.
Feel free to leave mementos for the dead; it's probably appreciated.]
Just like last week, Cabanela waits a while before he makes his rounds, writing everyone quick notes and sliding them under each occupied door.]
If you don't want to be alone tonight, meet in the dining hall.
-Cabanela
[Like last week, Cabanela hasn't bothered to provide anyone with food-- that would just be... rude right now, he thinks. Upon first entering, you'll notice that there are now four lit candles in the center of one of the tables.
Feel free to leave mementos for the dead; it's probably appreciated.]
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The Inspector himself looks like he's at a loss, but he's not in danger of anything right now, so that's.... something.
He won't be doing much talking unless approached, but he is scribbling into one of the many notebooks the Conductor has given him.]
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Hi, Cabanela-san.
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Susan approaches carefully, not particularly looking like she's going to cry.]
What are you writing?
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[ Or is he writing letters, too? ]
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[There was hardly any point in pretending anymore, not that he'd been doing so from the start. There had been little doubt in Dio's mind since awakening here that he'd become more than human at some point. He knew how, and he had a reasonable guess as to why.]
[But when? When, between that evening returning to the Joestar mansion and that day on the ship, had he used the mask hidden back in his room? And how long a period of time had passed between those two events to begin with?]
[...He wasn't going to find any answers by associating with the rest of them. Perhaps they would all be terrified he'd kill them...that would actually be worth the trouble this day had ended up being.]
[Take this useless world for all you can get. In times like this, the words of a man he'd detested came to mind. The only person Dio Brando would rely on was himself, and everyone who got in his way would burn--especially the Conductor.]
[Scowling to himself, Dio walked past the dining hall with every intention of bypassing it in favor of the stairs and infirmary. There was no reason to go out of his way to associate with the others anymore. Now that he considered it, there likely never had been in the first place.]
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Yeah, he figured this would be where Dio would go. Well, Dio kind of won a bet that they hadn't even agreed on the terms of... but he'd been thinking a lunch, and it was a lunch Dio would get.]
...you know, I've actually always wondered if vampires were supposed to prefer different blood types. AB's a little rarer than usual, isn't it?
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[Well, guess who's going to try to stop you on your way to the stairs? Yeah. Logan doesn't like Dio at all, but there is something pressing to discuss.]
I have a question for you, if you will allow me a moment of your time.
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[Mordecai arrives on the scene, carrying an unopened bottle of beer and a glass.]
Say, I wanna apologize for askin' you to eat the food I made last week. Lemme me make it up to you. [He holds up the beer.] Think you can drink this if I mix it with blood?
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[ Asuka managed to catch him on the way to the infirmary, it'd seem; perhaps the two can be wallflowers together. ]
Are you sure you didn't miss out on your true calling? Someone like you would get standing ovations on the West End.
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[ Sol apparently has zero intent of stopping talking to Dio, despite the trial... ]
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He leaves his puffy red vest in his room, but keeps his denim jacket on him with his picture tucked away in a pocket. Words can't explain how much he wished he knew someone familiar. Marty wanted nothing more than to be home in his bed, sleeping the night away. Knowing he'd wake up the next day, and everything would be normal. Just normal.
No killings, no investigations.
He walks by the table where there are now four candles lit instead of two, and digs something out of his jacket pocket. It's a picture he and Undyne drew, for the Conductor. Whether it's the dead cows or the name resting on a pile of shit, it's pretty clear to see that the Conductor wasn't in her favor. Or his.
Marty stands there for a minute or two, before sitting at a nearby table. He folds his arms across the table and lets his head rest on them, and that's where he'll stay. ]
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Did one of them draw it?
[...that's probably something Undyne would do.]
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...That said, Logan is going to be in his room for awhile with Youko, because they have things to discuss. When he finally does emerge for the gathering, Logan has Reaver's autobiography with him. He's finished it, but it gives him something to do that isn't be fucked up, so... that's a thing.
He hesitates for a moment near the candles, but ultimately he shakes his head and takes a chair further away where he can watch everyone without being entirely too close.]
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Hope you don't mind Cabanela joining you after a while.]
How are you holding up?
[He... looks like he's doing better than he was after his only friend's execution, at least.]
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She will, however, come out eventually, clad in her red hat, heading to the kitchen to grab herself a quick snack or two after realizing she hasn't eaten all day. She's more than open to being harassed during that time, of course, but she'll probably be a little mad about it..! ]
kitchen
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This is a disaster.
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This suuure isn't good.
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Drawing a bunch of unnecessary crap in a letter address to the Conductor, apparently. We're not just talking "haha I drew a dick on your math textbook!" level of unnecessary, there appears to be a very detailed fantasy of Bakugou positively reaming the hell out of the poor Conductor (who is represented as a shadowy, nondescript figure). His level of ability when it comes to drawing is not high, but he is at least slightly above stick figures. He isn't morbid, though, so there's a distinct lack of blood and broken bones in his comic strip (maybe he's just not good enough at drawing?), it's more just. Him, in his hero costume. Punching the Conductor repeatedly.
There are also randomly dicks here and there because he's now about 90% sure that the Conductor is made mega uncomfortable by the dick pics. God, he's so mature.
He has a bunch of extra pieces of paper, so somebody else should use them for a higher cause before he sacrifices all of them to this wayward project... ]
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No. No she is not. She is absolutely sitting down, grabbing some paper, and helping him draw some dicks for the conductor because apparently this is just what her life's become at this point.]
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While he's doing that, though, he's drawing up a patrol schedule, and after that, he's... just kind of staring at another blank sheet of paper? On the one hand, they've had an attack, but on the other hand, is self defense really going to be a factor if people are just going to be metal as hell and fight to the death? Well, probably not as many people will do that, but it's enough to make him wonder if he should...]
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[Logan sits across from Giovanni and folds his hands on top of that book he's been carrying around since he got it out of the machine. He tips his head a bit to indicate the paper.]
I'm up late often and it would be easiest to keep busy. How do you intend to organize this?
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"I just started on it last night." Well, it looks like she works fast...or maybe she already had more of it done than she'd let on, if her sleep schedule is any indication. Probably that's why she took so long to emerge, honestly. It's a weird sort, looking like three scarves braided together-- blue like Undyne, an almost golden-mustard yellow, and soulful red. The three colors had been harder to pick out than she'd thought...but when she'd gotten started on it, it had been a nice thought- that Undyne would like it.
Now... Well, what now?
Ashley sets it near one of the candles and sighs. Everything's kind of a mess, isn't it?
The rest of the night...well, she's got paper and a pen, and she's getting to work on something at the dining room table. No food right now...and no more crochet either.]
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[Rick kind of wanders by with a mouthful of sandwich and he's burping and is just pretty gross all-around.]
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Dear Winter -
- and an inkblot. There's something she wants to write, but the words just aren't flowing. She sighs, looking around at everyone else. Feel free to ask who this 'Winter' is.]
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How are you doing, Weiss?
[That... sure was another trial and execution.]
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She heads down to the "party" regardless, after a quick stop at the mail room. She slides into a seat at the table and, for the most part, stays there. There's no tea, right now (thankfully Giovanni's got her covered.) Despite her quiet nature, Rakka was here because, well, she wanted to see everyone else.
That... and there was evidently something she wanted to write about. It seems to take her a while before the words begin to flow onto the sheet though.
Dear Reki...]
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Hey, Rakka. Looks like we had the same idea.
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You know what? Let's fry a few strips of bacon for the folks that may want it.
He hands out bowls of it to everyone in the dining area.]
Here. Can't go all day on an empty stomach.
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Thanks, Mordecai.
[...]
How are you holding up?
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