Week 4.

[trustmods]

WEEK 4 Ashley Williams and Asuka Langley Shikinami have joined the ranks of the deceased. Two more deaths, two more people whose absences will be felt by the group; a bit over one-fifth of the Participants are dead. And this week, it seems everyone is feeling it. They say three times can be considered a routine, and the fourth week of the exercise isn't breaking pattern any. Saturday can be given to rest and sleep; on Sunday morning, the clock chimes the hour at seven o'clock. There are no more bodies, no more bloodstains; there's nothing else to be found this morning. Unless, of course, you count whatever you found last night, strange dreams or otherwise. Once again, there's a new floor to explore; after everything that trial decided to be yesterday, you deserve the reward. And for the second time, there are rule changes, effective immediately. You might want to take note of them. PARTICIPANTS REMAINING: 23

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[OOC: Welcome to week four 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

[rickdiculous]

[Rick is SERIOUSLY not impressed.]

Morty, have you seen your head? I-i-it's fucking circul-[eerrghhh]-circular. Like some kinda basketball, that head. I-i-it's omnipresent. Like some kinda floating head god.

[mortyfied]

You're -- [Okay Morty breathe. He's drunk, he clearly has no idea what he's talking about. Clearly.]

Listen to yourself - you're not making any sense, Rick! I mean, a - a floating head god?? [Seriously, what the fuck]

[rickdiculous]

I am listening to myself, Mor-Morty. Mostly so I don't get a headache from all the white noise that is your voice. It's your voice, Morty. It's gonna - gonna give your grandpa Rick a major headache. [Clearly.]

[mortyfied]

Oh my god. [He gets to his feet then, still covering his forehead and glares down at his grandpa.]

Fine I'm - I'll just go to bed so you don't get a migraine.

[rickdiculous]

Don't break your arms trying to - to lug that hulking forehead outta here.

[mortyfied]

[oh my god

Okay yeah he's definitely going to leave, feeling pretty dang salty. Why do you say the things you do, Rick...]