WEEK 4

[bathymetric]

Another trial, another week, and still you're probably running lower on answers than you'd like. And on people - you lost three since last Sunday. By the end of this week, you'll have been here for nearly a full month, yet still the days crawl on.

You wake up Sunday, again with no memory of Saturday, but this time with a simple message on your devices: You may resume requesting items, if you like. Enjoy. Guess it really was just a stealth motive after all, but at least it's being communicated that it's over! That's something, at least.

And when you leave your rooms on Sunday, there's another new area to explore! This one is... certainly more ambitious in its construction than the last one, to say the least. But hey, you have a pretty neat place to host parties, if you feel so inclined! That's... fun...

Hey, you gotta find the fun in situations like this where you can! Silver linings, right?



SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to Week 4! Remember to turn in AC here, threads for regain coins here, and if you feel so inclined you can visit Angel's office hours over here! ]

Comments

[archboxer]

You do work in mysterious ways, after all.

[She's focusing on that sword. Her voice is reverent. She doesn't even notice Mira standing there until she hears her name. She blinks as if she's been suddenly brought out of sleep.]

Ah... Mira?

[philoxenia]

[ She can tell the sword is Rhea's, at least... the way she's holding it, looking at it.... ]

Did you-- just receive that from the machine?

[archboxer]

Yes... I did.

[She confirms it. Yet her focus is drawn once back to the sword.]

The holy sword of Saint Seiros... the blade that slew the Fell King... it must be a sign.

[philoxenia]

[ Oh. Oh, that's a little concerning in a place like this. ]

A sign?

[archboxer]

That our liberation is at hand.

[She means well.]

[philoxenia]

[ Everything is fine! ]

Is it-- something else from your church, then?

[ Surely that's what Rhea means. ]

[archboxer]

Yes. This is the sword that our founding saint wielded against the tyrant king Nemesis. It has been passed down through generations of archbishops.

[...But that's not what she meant.]

This blade could end our torment here... yes, perhaps that is what the Goddess meant...

[Everything is Not Fine]

[philoxenia]

[ oh boy where is seteth when you need him ]

Rhea... please don't do anything rash, okay?

[archboxer]

[This is fine.]

I am merely thinking of the group, Mira. You do not need to worry.

[philoxenia]

[ Oh dear. That makes her worry more. ]

I don't doubt that at all, but... You don't have to do it alone. [ She frowns, just slightly. ] As long as I'm still here, you won't.

[ ... And Seteth, of course. ]

[archboxer]

[There... there is something that changes in Rhea's gaze then. She reaches out a hand, placing it on Mira's head.]

Not even the saints could do their great deeds alone. [Still...] If this is where my road leads me, I must follow it.

[philoxenia]

[ She's quiet for a moment, focusing on that warm hand.... ]

Surely there's room for other people, though, isn't there?

[ She's so insistent because... well. She's not sure when she'd vowed to herself to never make someone feel like they're alone if she could help it... ]

[archboxer]

[She avoids her gaze. Not even her brothers followed her this far. Not even Seteth. She had followers who wouldn't hesitate to kill for her but this...]

It may be wide but to ask anyone... I could not. I... feel as if I have forgotten how.

[philoxenia]

Sometimes... you don't have to.

[ She pauses. ]

... Sometimes, the people who care about you extend a hand for you to take.

[archboxer]

You are offering to walk with me...

[Why. Why.]