unknownseas | Week 7

Entry tags:

round 3,
week 7

Week 7

Good morning, New Rapture. A new day is dawning.

Less than ten of you left, now. The halls of your little slice of Rapture sure must feel empty now, hm? Even compared to their general size, you're going to naturally find yourself more and more alone more and more often. That's just statistics.

You may find yourself flagging. You may find it difficult to move on. Your captor has offered you so little respite, so little in the way of answers. The ocean is dark and foreboding. But remember this: in the darkest times, the brightest lights can shine.

As you wake once again on Sunday, there's another wing of New Rapture open to you, smaller than the ones before it. More to see, more to find, as your ally the vending machine might say.

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to the seventh week of Unknown Seas Round 3! Please make sure to mark any investigation toplevels accordingly, post your ac, and you can reach either Mayor Fontaine or Eleanor for conversations! ]

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[ For the first time in a while, the motive leaves Mielle feeling a little shaken. As it turns out, her situation at home had been its own bizarre advantage - there were so few things to take away from her at this point and even dangling Aria over her head stopped being quite so frightening after a point. But Cain - that was different. That was her real brother and he'd been frustrating and hopelessness and completely unfit to lead House Roscent but-

But he was still her brother. She hadn't wanted him hurt. She certainly hadn't wanted him dead.

"You'd be tradin Mafuyu for him."

Yes. I know. You don't have to rub it in.

And she's fairly sure she's the last person in the world Cain would want to see, even if it came with saving his life. Besides - after last week, she knows she's near the top of just about everyone's suspect list. She's gone and ruined everything, hasn't she?

... She needs something to do. Just to get her mind off things.

Mielle skips breakfast on Tuesday and heads straight for the backrooms of the department store to see if there isn't a project she can occupy her brain with. Maybe some clothes she can alter or something to practice her sewing on, just... Anything. It's while she's sorting through all this that she comes across something that surprises her - a small stack of neatly cut fabric trimmed down to handkerchief size, all abandoned halfway into being done. It takes Mielle a second to remember - oh. This is her work. These were the gifts she'd planned to make and hand out to everyone, a showy little gesture of friendship to get into their good books. But between the frustration of chipping away at such a large task and the stress of everything else she'd just... forgotten all about it.

She realizes just how much smaller the stack would be if she started it now, for all the people who are left alive.

...

For the rest of the day, Mielle can be found at the lake, in the process of viciously hand stitching... something. Get close enough to see and you'll realise it's a handkerchief - one out of a pile she has at her side. She's sewing with the sharp, angry movements of someone who's riled themselves up about something and the overly tight, kind of intense expression of a person trying very, very hard not to cry. ]

[speaking of the last person someone wants to see--

When Zinda spots Mielle at the lake, she has two chocies: One is to bolt, and pretend she didn't see her. But Zinda's not a coward, and she's never shied away from confrontation-- instead, she blossomed in difficult conditions. She takes the second, more difficult choice, and approaches her once suitemate.]

... Hey, Goldie.

[ Mielle's head jerks up at the sound of Zinda's voice but after a moment, she lowers it again to focus on her sewing – the deliberate snubbing of a cat that doesn't particularly feel like listening when it's called.

She's not quite far gone to ignore her outright, though, and she offers a stiff ] Good afternoon. [ as she continues stabbing her needle through the cloth. ]

...I fucked up. [She admits it easily, taking Mielle's response as a sign that she can approach further, walking to her side, then eventually lowering herself to sit down by her.]

I made some misjudgments about how people would react. I misjudged how you'd react. I shoulda confronted you about it in private, instead of in front of everyone like that. It put you in danger, and I shouldnta done that.

[ She pauses in her stitching just for a moment, visibly mulling over the words... then goes back to it with uh, even more viciousness than before. It's very teenager of her. ]

It didn't occur to you for a moment that announcing it in front of all the others was a terrible idea? Not just me.

[ She stabs a knot into a neat row of stitches then starts on a new one. ]

You made Mafuyu admit it in front of everyone as well.

... That one I did think about a lil more. It was important. It meant more people could keep an eye on her. Take things a bit more seriously. And I'd rather have that kind of thing come out with her around, than whisper about it behind her back.

[She doesn't flinch-- the teenage moodiness is something she knows how to work with.]

An' it was better if I led the conversation, than any of the others. They coulda been way more harsh. Tried to shame her for what she'd done. Tried to make you into a monster. ...I knew if I brought it up, I could keep it from becomin' that.

You didn't know that. Don't pretend for a moment that we have any way of knowing anything for certain in this place. They could have just as easily turned on me and had me cast out as the worst sort of villainess imaginable for all you know. It wasn't as though any of us had any reason to suspect what a beast he was when you needled me into it.

[ Hah! Needled! Reassuring to hear from Mielle when she's so obviously taking her feelings out on her crafting. ]

You didn't even bother to try and understand why.

[...ah, right, he did want to apologize to Mielle at some point... as much as he wanted to find out who was carrying out the poisonings, it was kind of a complicated situation and he didn't intend to like. scare the shit out of her or anything.

So he'll approach... maybe a little awkwardly.]

...Mielle. I wish to apologize for... how I approached things at the last meeting.

[ Mielle gives a very unladylike snort, punctuated by an equally unladylike jab into the handkerchief. Y–you have to be a little impressed that her embroidery looks so neat when she's doing it so angrily... ]

You may. If you'd like.

[ She's got a stiff, steely sort of tone, like she's struggling to keep her voice together. ]

[ah... he feels bad...]

It was not my intention to bring any harm to you, truly, nor is it my intention to do so in the future.

...

Honestly, it is not as though I had any plans for dealing with the poisonings beyond surveillance and a stern lecture regardless of who was responsible. I am simply glad that nothing particularly terrible came of it and that you are still with us.

[ And at that, Mielle gives him what can only be called an utterly incredulous look. ]

Why? Are you really trying to tell me you aren't... disconcerted by my behaviour?

Not particularly, no. We are in a situation specifically designed to push us into killing each other, so I cannot truly blame you for it.

[like, yeah, maybe he would've been angrier if someone had actually died, but he's thinking about what Forrest said in the second trial and... well. he is at least Trying.]

... I don't understand any of you.

[ At last she pauses in her sewing and carefully sets the whole thing in her lap. ]

If things had progressed to a trial... I would have seen all of you killed just for the chance to live again. That sort of thing... it's enough to see you executed in my own world.

[ Almost unconsciously, Mielle rubs at the base of her neck. ]

You haven't so much as raised your voice at me.

...

I suppose I have forgiven people I know for far worse than that.

[thinking... about someone... for very recent reasons...]

The fact of the matter is, you did not succeed, and we did not need to execute you. At this point, I cannot say I am happy to see any of our number die.

... I suppose our chances at successfully escaping worsen the more of our number we lose.

[ And it makes her feel distinctly less weird when she frames it to herself like that. ]

Not that I feel we've made much progress in that regard. It's quite frustrating.

That is not my only concern, but... yes. We have almost exhausted everything, and while we have found some possible clues...

[he sighs in frustration.]

Perhaps it will all come together once we have access to the final area that is currently off limits to us.

... Do you think we really will be allowed to leave?

[ It's a worry she hasn't voiced to any of the others yet but... well, maybe she should be careful about just who she mentions it to. ]

It seems a bit too... convenient.

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[They haven't spoken to one another, not in quite some time.

Still, something about this draws her out. As she quietly approaches, she takes note of the handkerchief... and that sharp, forceful needlework.]

You should try to be careful.

[ Oh. That's a voice she hasn't heard in some time. She's on her last nerve with just about everyone else but she's not quite able to summon up that same level of personal vitriol for Eleanor. ... though that doesn't necessarily mean she's going to be nice. ]

I could say the very same to you. Of our number that remain, there are quite a few that would be displeased to see you showing yourself so openly.

[Perhaps that's more than Eleanor was expecting from the survivors, even Mielle.]

I'm... well aware of that fact. It haunts me.

[She does seem displeased by it.]

But nobody's made a move against me quite yet, so, part of me wonders if that will ever happen.

You can hardly expect anyone to risk making a strike against you when all our avenues for doing so are so firmly under your control. No one here is fool enough to march into your miserable little office and make an attempt on your life when our own are hanging in the balance.

[ Sh... she's rude now... ]

...You're right.

[There's no argument in her voice. This is something she's thought over before.]

Your lives hang in the balance... all for someone else's dream.

[ Mielle shoots her a look that's cautious and probing all at once. ]

... Whose dream? Surely if anyone would know, it would be you.

[Even she seems a little perplexed at that.]

For... well.

The Mayor.

Edited 2022-08-04 11:12 (UTC)

[ She gives an impatient tch. ]

Don't be a fool. I know that much. But surely you must have some useful information about this mayor of ours and her plans.

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