FINAL WEEK

[bathymetric]

Good morning, passengers. Happy Sunday. Happy New Year.

The storm has reached you.

That's the first thing to note when you wake on Sunday morning. The ship steers onward, but wind and waves are picking up outside. No rain yet, but it's only a matter of time. There's only the one last addition this week, out on the end of the topdeck.

The end approaches. You can feel it hanging palpable in the air, in the rocking of the ship, in the lightning that crashes above.

You can also see it in the island in the distance, growing closer.

For better or for worse, your captain seems to have made it through the Triangle. For better or for worse, this ritual is nearing its final purpose.

You won't have long to wait before your opportune moment.



SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to your final week, everyone! Remember that Wednesday (oocly) is your last chance to redeem coins for regains over here! If you wish to get in contact with the npcs, Davy Jones is over here, and "The Captain" is over here! And as requested, profiles are accessible here. ]

Comments

SUNDAY

[bathymetric]

[ahelpingpaw]

[That island in the distance brought a sense of dread. This really is over. Two months later, many deaths later, seven trials later...the end was at sight. Ever since he woke up today he kept feeling an intense feeling that his days are numbered -- they probably are if they don't manage to survive whatever's coming. Do or die!

The official golden mayoral sash is back. After a month of not having any on, it's back. It feels odd to be wearing it again, but somehow he feels it's fitting -- facing potential death with something that used to mean the world to him.

Time to meet you in the hallways!]

Uh, I dunno how useful this is gonna be? But there's this island coming in the distance, so I made this for you in case you wanna be able to carry stuff or something. I-It's not like we may have to live in an island for a while or something, but...better safe than sorry?

[Here you go! A pawmade bag. Done with the collaborative efforts of Filbo, Data and Lelouch. It's not really too big, one single strap, half-full with stuff such as water bottles, fabric, stuff from the normal vending machines...he tried, really.

Curiously enough, the strap is made of a different color. It definitely says MAYOR and has a pawprint. Yeah, it's made of Filbo's old sashes from his time at Snaxburg. Had to do what he could to hurry up, really.

The rest of the day -- and the rest of the time until the end, really -- he spends all his time hanging out at the purple morgue voodoo room. Constantine's note said he'd try to reach out. He...has no idea how that'd be like? Or if it's possible? And really, anyone who comes do magic shenanigans at the morgue will receive no objection from the grumpus, he just wants to spend the majority of his time here, in case something happens. There he is, finishing a backpack for himself, attaching two of his old sashes to it for the straps.

Anyone who comes and doesn't seem to be getting into occultism gets a question, yup:]

Are you ready for whatever's gonna happen out there? It's fine if you're not, of course.

[Who can be ready, really]

purple room

[magycks]

[ Thankfully, Filbo doesn't need to go for the question, because Magica has shown up with one of those ouija boards she made all the way back in week five tucked under her arm! Annnnd she's heedlessly heading for the 13th coffin drawer on the back wall before noticing Filbo's presence while halfway there, and sort of doubling back. ]

Oh, it's you. [ After a moment of pause, she produces... a steaming mug she must have taken from the Jimmy Buffet, it looks like. ] Tea?

hallways

[scythegun]

[Yeager's been out and about searching through the rooms again looking for anything they could have missed... but obviously he's been unsuccessful because this isn't the final investigation. He holds up a hand in greeting when he spots Filbo, and then inclines his head a bit at the offered bag.]

Oh! Thank you, Filbo, that's very kind of you.

[He accepts the bag easily enough, then pauses when he catches sight of the strap.]

...I'll be sure to take good care of it.

[The sash more than the bag, he means, but at least this will prevent him from stuffing weapons in the bag (probably)??]

purple

[ltcommandroid]

[Data, for his part, is decidedly not getting into occultism. He doesn't really understand what's happening here - but he is scanning everything with his tricorder, just for funsies.]

I believe I am as prepared as it is possible to be. [but then, it seems kinda hard to catch data wrong-footed] Do you feel as though you are ready?

[cethflayn]

[An island in the distance.

That truly is an island, isn't it? Flayn peers out while holding tightly onto the railing of the deck this morning, feeling anticipation trembling her very center. It certainly cannot be much longer now.

She has one place she wants to investigate the most, and that? Is the wave pool. Considering it's covered and the water is warm, she doesn't feel too weird getting into her special fish bathing suit and taking a dip. Once it becomes apparent that there's nothing to find here, Flayn takes to the water much like a fish, giggling as the waves push and pull her about. It's nice to take a refreshing morning swim, and now no one can say she didn't give the new location a good once-over. After all, she even went under the water.

You can see her later in the Jimmy Buffet, giving the ready-made food a critical eye for anything that could be boxed and transported. Doesn't seem like much would last very long if they had to be on the run for a while...eh, well, might as well enjoy the spread while it's here, then, right? She'll have Kissa with her as she makes a bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon and chives, humming in approval at the combination, and then...assembling some more of those. Assembling isn't cooking, it's fine! So now there's lox bagel sandwiches out on the buffet. You're welcome.

Flayn sets up all her stuffed animal friends (and the extras) for one more time in the movie theater, and most of them will be left behind to sit there - she can't bring them all home, after all. Just Emily, Jimmy Bear, and Kissa will leave the theater with her, so I hope you like several bootleg Monokumas chilling in the audience. She's going through a stack of animated movies, bless her - Beauty and the Beast, The Last Unicorn, and...a bunch of versions of something called Titanic?

Sothis Almighty what is this shit. This can't be historically accurate. And...okay, these are all fever dreams. At least Flayn doesn't seem too impressed by either of these three.]

I think I finally understand how a movie can be bad.

[Then why are you still watching it.]

Movie Theater

[ahelpingpaw]

[Well there sure are a lot of plushies here? Filbo of course makes noise so Flayn notices his arrival during one of the times he's not at the morgue, and sits in the back just out of curiosity for the things Flayn likes in terms of media.

It's...hum. He's too far to notice Flayn doesn't seem tremendously impressed, instead thinking Flayn liked it. To be frank, Filbo has been thinking these shipwreck movies are incredibly terrible, but he's not going to shatter Flayn's dreams by telling her that. Thank goodness when Flayn says that aloud]

I know, right? I'm not gonna pretend in my world all movies are great? But, uh...there sure isn't anything like this.

[Thank goodness these aren't universal constants]

movie theater

[jibunwo]

Is that....supposed to be an octopus?

[bruh what]

YOU KNOW THERE'S SOMETHING YOU SHOULD KNOW SO I'M GONNA TELL YOU SO DON'T SWEAT IT FORGET IT

[magycks]

[ she's so proud of you flayn... you've come so far... ]

Oh, no, this is historically accurate.

movie theatre

[ltcommandroid]

[Why is Data just sitting here impassively watching Tentacolino]

Curious. This appears to be a movie intended for children, but it does not seem to have the moral grounding common to that genre. The protagonists are clearly unquestioningly supporting a fascist regime, and the rats are not only justified in attempting to escape, but perhaps morally obligated.

MONDAY

[bathymetric]

MEETING

[jibunwo]

[I'm sure you all feel as I do that we may be out of time. Whether you have anything of relevance to share or not, I still ask that we meet in the lounge today at noon. For the sake of routine, if nothing else.]

[...He had to write a lot fewer copies now than he had that first week.]

[jibunwo]

...I have something I want to say. It's not immediately relevant to our goals or investigation, so just let me get it out and then we'll set to work.

['Do not let go of the bombastic melodrama, no matter what anyone tells you.']

[Okay, Jasper. He hadn't had any plans to do otherwise, but Lelouch had the feeling it was needed now more than ever.]

I meant what I said back at the trial. We trusted John, just as we trusted most of our number that we've lost up to now. Whether or not that trust was ever misplaced or not is for each of us to decide for ourselves, and accept it as we choose to. But misplaced or not, we have to acknowledge that from the moment we arrived, every last one of us has harbored secrets we would not or could not divulge. I do not ask of you to reveal those that remain, only to acknowledge this as true.

And I will not make any platitudes or pretend otherwise--there's a real chance we might not win this. But it is only a chance, and so too is there an equal chance we claim victory. So I want to see no hint of giving in, no matter how much darker the situation may become from here on. All secrets and the like aside, I...would vastly prefer it were those of us left to survive. Maybe I've grown to care far more than I planned to.

I am Zero--the man who works miracles. But here and now, with all masks and aliases discarded, I...will be myself. Until whatever end, I will be Lelouch vi Britannia, with you for every step until the end for whatever that may be worth.

[ahelpingpaw]

So, uh...I'm pretty sure by now we all saw what's in the distance. Land ahoy?

[Filbo seems nervous but generally eager to see what happens, really. The journey as at its end]

Could it be the same kinda place hidden in the golf course? You know, the one with the loot and the lighthouse.

[scythegun]

I haven't turned up anything new, but I do have something I'd like to discuss.

How many among us are still capable and willing to fight? I would like to emphasize that I believe fighting is a dreadful option right now, and absolutely not one we should resort to - but it may become necessary. If it does, I want to know just what we're capable of as a group so we can plan accordingly.

The last thing we need is to lose anyone. If you are not capable of fighting without your abilities, then please leave that to those of us who are. No needless heroics; that certainly isn't going to help us at all.

TUESDAY

[bathymetric]

????

[bathymetric]

[ The really notable thing about Tuesday? There’s no announcement from the Captain. No mocking, no incentive. The ship just keeps moving, the island growing ever larger on the horizon.

It’s a familiar sight, if you’ve checked out the underwater replica in the mini-golf room. A dense jungle, with a lighthouse raised up from a peak. A lighthouse that is, for now, unlit.

Instead of The Captain, though, you do get a note, left folded in each of your rooms.

Tomorrow. Make ready and pack your effects by sunrise. Do not expect this ship to survive the day, once you leave for the ritual.

You shall only have so much free reign of the ship, once The Captain leaves to prepare. Use it wisely.

- Davy Jones

Landfall approaches. Time to get ready for the end. ]

PACK YOUR SHIT PARTY

[cethflayn]

[Hm, well. That sure is a note.

Flayn puts it with the other precious letters she has gotten, and starts to look for everyone still alive on the ship.]

We are coming so close to that island, are we not? Surely the Captain could find some way to make us miserable by allowing us to stretch our legs. Why not make sure we have not forgotten anything for when we disembark?

[She's. Very transparently telling people to get their shit so it's together, but in a way that doesn't implicate anything or anyone. Look, she's trying her best, okay?

Flayn will leave the door to Room 2 open today as she bustles in and out, making sure she's got everything, eyes lingering on Lorna's untouched belongings. Shouldn't she make sure to bring those, too, if there's some chance of saving everyone and the boat will likely not make it past tomorrow? You might also catch her briefly in the Armory, warily eyeing some replicas and even taking a big axe labeled Aymr out, hesitantly poking the bony bit before letting out a sigh of relief. Oh good, it really is fake. No less creepy, but fake all the same. If she can find a certain replica, she'll take it, even though it'll likely snap in two if she tries to use it. Yeager did say these were all sort of shoddily made. But even so...it's like having her father beside her. It will help.

Now, the question is, can Flayn even carry all the shit she's trying to bring with her?]

MODS!!!!!

[ltcommandroid]

[Well. That's very much a note, isn't it?

Data doesn't have much to bring, really, and all of his belongings are pretty much always neatly packed. That's just sort of how he is. The cats will have to be confined to Cat Backpack tomorrow morning, and...well. There's one other thing that he'd let slide for a while, and cannot allow to do so any longer. So, immediately after receiving the note, Data will be filling his non-cat bag (thanks, Filbo!) with a small selection of tools and taking himself down to the bar. It is time to speak to Jimmy Buffet.]

Jimmy, we will have to evacuate the ship soon.

[MODS CAN WE SAVE JIMMY BUFFET FROM HIS IMMINENT DOOM

However that goes, it still leaves quite a bit of free time. Data eventually elects to take his violin, go sit by the pool, and play some music. There's the odd selection of classical music, both from old Earth and probably by the great classicist Klorgon or whatever, but eventually he pauses in his playing.]

I have been running a sub-process dedicated to extrapolating potential pieces based on the Captain's musical references for some time now - as an exercise in curiosity. Would you like to hear one?

[too late it's happening]

Pool

[ahelpingpaw]

Sure!

[Filbo quickly comes to regret agreeing, kind of. Perhaps it's because this is nothing at all like what he expected, but he feels a chill. This music kind of hits hard]

...uh...well that does sound a lot like the kinda thing the Captain would like. It's--it's sorta ominous!

[Megalovania being played on violin somehow makes it hit harder than the original would, honestly, Lu, how could you inflict this on your fellow players, haha]

pool

[magycks]

... No, no, this is still too classy for him.

[ Even if he's objectively much better than Jack at doing his job, he doesn't deserve this song, which actually kind of whips! ]

Do we have any kazoos in the party zone, do you know?

Pool, because why wouldn't I

[cethflayn]

Hm. It is...fast-paced, and a bit frantic. Like a very odd and stressful battle that is looming on the horizon. I suppose in that way, it is very fitting!

[Flayn no]

jimmy

[bathymetric]

[ Jimmy seems... contemplative. ]

That bad, huh?

pool

[sivard]

[...Well that's sure a thing.]

...Huh. He's been referring to that?

[Yeah Zaveid knows nothing about music.]

[magycks]

[ After an unfortunate seawater incident with the vending machine (it turns out that when you're very very short it hits you directly in the face) Magica spends most of the day packing her shit! Even with cartoonish comedy purposes in mind, one cannot simply tuck literally everything one has into one's cloak and call it a day, so naturally she attempts to make a bindle out of one of those shitty vending machine cloaks and tie it to her staff, but eventually that's not enough to carry everything either. She's halfway through trying to jam more supplies fruitlessly into its velvet depths when it occurs to her. ]

Oh! I forgot Tiffany.

[ And it's back down to the casino with all her accumulated magic-adjacent artifacts to try and coax the money shark out of her own personal Jimmy Buffet. Thankfully, it doesn't take long. Tiffany, still ridiculously undersized for the amount of Jackbucks she's been snarfing since Thursday, closes in like the shark she is, only to be lured out of the room by a breadcrumb trail of questionable value. She devours Solum's core and a raw diamond without issue, but even if Magica let go of the chaos emerald she uses to lure her down several flights of stairs into the kitchen, it's seriously questionable whether or not she'd be able to even get it down. Which is fine! Her mistress has something even more stupid in mind.

Magica sets the emerald on top of the counter with a decisive thud, then climbs atop it (gross), pulls the knife block to the edge, and sits there, her legs tucked under her, as she drops knife after knife into the creature's gullet. ]

Good girl, there you are... right, that's enough, you can have your treat now.

[ It is exactly like a dog trying to eat a watermelon, if the dog was a golem made of treasure that had limited abilities to reshape itself. Tiffany holds the gem in her now proportionally enormous mouth as she follows Magica into the purple room, where she regards the wall of coffins with a thoughtful expression, arms crossed. She walks over to the drawer that holds doll Shard, opens it, and surreptitiously tucks it into her cloak. ]