SIXTH TRIAL

[bathymetric]

[ It's the same as the other weeks. Two bodies, some time to look, and then Davy Jones comes around to take those of you who are left into the theatre and into the elevator. His expression is dark, difficult to read.

The trip down feels slower than ever. The elevator has gotten so empty, don't you think?

As it reaches its usual destination, the crew of the Dutchman is performing once again. The clouds above have started to darken the once clear tropical waters.

The podiums await you. ]

At yer places! Find who is responsible for all of this!

[ Your numbers can't support many more weeks of this, can they?

Welcome to your sixth trial. ]

Comments

[silentscout]

Cethleann.

[He says it, and he nods.]

It's a nice name. I'll remember it.

[For the next twenty minutes or so, at least.]

[cethflayn]

...Thank you.

[That's the only thing she's ever wanted - for people not to forget her.

When she smiles, it's with tears streaming down her cheeks.]

[silentscout]

[The tears on his face are old and dried, and he can't bring himself to smile in return. But he's not frowning? And his eyes do look a bit warmer than before. So that's improvement, for him.

He nods to her, and then he reaches up with his sleeve to try and wipe away her tears.]

[cethflayn]

[She - she laughs, softly, wearily. And reaches out to his face in turn, even if his tears are dried. If he'll let her.]

[silentscout]

[He flinches at the contact, but it's more of a reflex than anything. After a moment he relaxes and lets her dry his face too.

Being close is usually uncomfortable, but given what he's about to face it's actually kind of comforting.]

[cethflayn]

[Man he better be okay in deadland when he goes

Take care of her boy, everybody]