![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Week 3.
Two more people are dead. Byakuren Hijiri has been murdered and Undyne has been executed. That brings us up to four deaths and twenty-five remaining Participants. You're doing well. Take all of Saturday to rest and sleep. You've earned it. On Sunday morning, the clock chimes the hour at seven o'clock. With no more bodies to be discovered, it seems you're safe for the time being. That said, you'll be feeling a little groggy when you wake up; it seems you've remembered something else. Or was that another really bizarre dream? Like last week, there's a new floor to explore. A reward for your efforts, of course. There's something else new, however, and as you approach the foyer you might hear the beautiful sound of... chickens? Chickens. Those are definitely chickens. It looks like Tabby's petition has worked, you have chosen chickens. Perhaps even more important are the rule changes, effective immediately. You might want to take note of them. |
SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week three 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!]
hallways
[Which was probably the ideal result for her, all things considered. But it was still highly unusual for the would-be evil overlord.]
no subject
In her current state, she can't help it. She takes a few quick steps away from him and drops the yarn in her arms, as well as the two strange naked dolls.]
no subject
[Dio blinked and looked up at the sound of hitting the floor...but no sarcastic comment, thinly veiled threat, or angry glare came in response.]
[Strangely, he just looked tired, and spoke up in an apathetic deadpan.]
You dropped something, miss Williams.
...suicidal ideation cw dear god??
...why is she genuinely wondering...]
S- sorry. [She sniffs and immediately grabs the doll with the glasses first, makes sure it's okay. Can't have that break. Can't. Then the other one, then...there's so much yarn and she feels like she's going to start sobbing again, why the hell is this her life.]
ashley please collect your chill
['Is the thing we call meetings not 'gravity'?']
[Was there...a reason for all of this? Something beyond even what the Conductor had planned or could account for?]
...
[His expression controlled and unreadably calm, Dio picked up a couple of the wayward balls of yarn with one hand and held them out to her.]
i think it's permanently lost tbh
Very slowly, Ashley looks from the yarn up Dio's arm and back down. If she takes it, is he going to tear off her hand and beat her to death with it? ...Is she too tired to even care?
Somewhat like a frightened animal, she takes one, pulling it close to her chest in an instant.]
Th... [...no we can't finish this gesture of thanks, she's far too confused.]
someone get her a paper bag to breathe into
[Calm. Quiet. Literally everything he wasn't at the trial, for no apparent reason. Dio's voice sounded like that of someone that was simply discussing the weather.]
[...it was going to be a long week.]
no subject
The hand holding the yarn wipes a stray tear away. It's been a day, Dio.]
Haven't s-said anything about the j-journal.
no subject
...I'm not, just to be clear.
no subject
Oh...o-kay. Good to know.
no subject
...It still doesn't make much sense to me, but part of it is a little clearer. That 'trustworthy friend' I wrote of...I think I know who he is now.
no subject
[Honestly she has no idea why she's talking to him. Just kneeling in the hallway with a blanket over her shoulders and huge vampire in front of her.]
no subject
[And now he sounds genuinely confused. What the hell, Dio. You're acting halfway normal.]
Or...memories, I suppose.
no subject
[She feels so cold and far away. She wishes they were dreams.
...and something's kicked in, a...defense mechanism, maybe-- Josh took psychology, maybe he could tell her-- wherein she just asks.]
You...really understand part of it now?
no subject
[And strangely, Dio found himself talking about it. Obviously there were things he had every intention of concealing--The World, Whitesnake--but perhaps actually vocalizing his confusion would be a step towards resolving it.]
I think I comprehend what I wrote about gravity--it's what people call 'fate'--but not about controlling it. And I've no idea what my friend has to do with that.
[His grip tightened on the journal and envelope.]
...I don't suppose anything we write to people that aren't the Conductor actually leave this place, do they.
no subject
I...I asked him but he said he couldn't promise to send them, or...to leave them unread.
no subject
[He looked to the envelope in his hand, scrutinizing the name 'Enrico Pucci' written in black ink.]
...still. The risk might be worth it, even if the chance it reaches its destination is barely a single percent. If I do get in touch with him...who knows what may happen.
no subject
no subject
[Annoying. Whatever 'Whitesnake' was, he had no choice but to put a lot of faith into it.]
But I remember that he's trustworthy, and devoted on top of that. If he gets this letter, he'll damn well try to do what I ask and take the Conductor's blasted head off.
no subject
Then do it. Even if it's small. Any chance...to get out of here alive. Without giving into his- g-game.
no subject
[Dio flashed a fanged smirk that lacked the open malice of the one he'd worn the previous day.]
It may yet end up that this place burns to the ground with whatever's left of us on the winning side.
no subject
[How strange. Maybe she's just too sad to feel fear right now, or...maybe whatever memory he got is just making this so much easier to deal with.]
If you'll excuse me. I...need to see if I can sleep.