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

[mortyfied]

N-no, I'm sorry for bringing it up in the first place. [Okay, he's not gonna hug her but he'll at least reach out and place a hand on her arm comfortingly.]

I understand that you don't wanna talk about it I mean - I-I woke up with a really shitty memory Sunday, too... um.. [Man, he feels like such a dick now.]

[hashtagafreakingghost]

[She sighs; after the fake corpse of another dead friend this morning there's not much she can do but feel exhausted.] Seems like everyone did, right? Or at least most of us. Just...how this place goes, I guess.

[As an afterthought:] Thanks. I mean it. Wasn't your fault I'm trapped in a...horrible psycho movie. Was in. Something.

[mortyfied]

Pretty sure this kinda constitutes as it's own, fucked up psycho movie to be honest. [It's.. meant kind of as a joke but also kind of not.]

Uh anyway... maybe pretzels aren't really a good idea right now. I-I don't even know what I'm doing anymore so... wanna just eat some pancakes or something?

[hashtagafreakingghost]

[She snorts and rubs the bridge of her nose and then, in the most exhausted, acquiescent voice:]

...I fucking love pancakes.

[mortyfied]

[im so upset ashley why did you do this to us]

Yeah - h-hell yeah! [Fuck this pretzel shit then he's just getting some pancake batter mix or whatever and slapping that shit into a bowl.]

You like them shaped or anything? Or chocolate chip or blueberry?

[hashtagafreakingghost]

[because i'm a really bad person who thrives on suffering

Holy fuck please, pancakes are wonderful she'll clean out the pretzel stuff.] Make me a kitty with blueberries and we've got a party.

[mortyfied]

[It's good that you're cleaning up after him because he sure ain't gonna do it #littleteenageboythings]

Y-you got it!

[He mixes up the batter to the best of his abilities - it's still a little lumpy because his arms are wimpy but edible - and puts a pan on a burner. When it's hot enough and there's oil on top can't forget the oil, he'll start on his masterpiece. Which... doesn't look too bad when it's finished. It's definitely burnt on one side (he didn't flip it fast enough) and the blueberry smile is a tad creepy, but he did his best and that's all that matters. (It's also not covered in delicious powdered sugar but it could be if you desired I won't judge)

He carefully puts it on a plate for her, and holds it out proudly.]

B-bone appetite! [Morty don't say shit like that it's not cool]

[hashtagafreakingghost]

[Look, Ashley isn't a neat person to any extent, she's a writer with the messiest desk in the world- but leaving out dishes and food is a no-go in her book, she's got that.

Also that shit is adorable and her dead not-boyfriend makes shitty dad jokes, say not cool shit all the time.]

Looks purrfect. [...Said in absolute deadpan, who knew when she's not freaking out Ashley is a dry, sarcastic girl. A bite in:] Mmm, fantastic.

[mortyfied]

[Her surprisingly deadpan pun catches Morty off guard a little, actually, and he can't help but let out a small snort in response.]

I'm glad you like it. [+1 cooking skills: shitty cat pancake edition

He'll move to make his own pancake which looks suspiciously somewhat shaped like the head of a certain asshole scientist. With chocolate chips spread kind of randomly around the pancake instead of where the eyes would be or anything. That might come out looking way too creepy if he did that...]

[hashtagafreakingghost]

[Don't expect to see this around much; she is too far beyond anything to be sad right now, it'll fade back into devastation soon enough.

Regardless, she hangs out with her lumpy cat pancake, letting out a sigh and recalling midnight breakfast at IHOP and early morning failures at breakfast after all-night study sessions, and dimly she's aware she really can't escape her memories.

To at least distract herself, she takes a peek at Morty's pancake-in-progress. It takes a moment for her to register just what he's making...]

Is that- how the heck are you so good at shaping these things?