Week 3.

[trustmods]

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. PARTICIPANTS REMAINING: 25

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!]

Comments

[zomgboom]

Well, that's why I came here? I, like, need paper targets so I can put food on them and teach her to aim high.

[IT'S JUST LIKE TRAINING A DOG, DUH.]

[sunsong]

[ GOOD LORD...Sol wonders if she should stop this but tbh if it keeps Tabby occupied maybe it's for the best...???

...plus, she kinda wants to see this in action. ]

Well, I'll let you have the targets now if you want. I need a break, anyway, so let's see what she can do.

[zomgboom]

Cool. This is, like, gonna be awesome.

[Tabby pulls a baggie of food from . . . one of her many pockets that probably can't hold anywhere near as much stuff as she's been shoving into them. She holds it in front of the chicken, who appears to be disinterested, and then attaches it to one of the targets before setting the chicken down.

The chicken pecks at the ground, completely disinterested in everything that's going on.]

. . . C'mon, Chock-Chock. You're, like, named after a chicken monster! The least you could do is peck someone's eyes out.

[sunsong]

[ ...This is about what Sol expected, honestly. ]

Maybe you should work her up to somethin' at that height?

[zomgboom]

[........ you know. WHAT A GOOD IDEA.]

Oh, probably. How do you, like, think I should do that?