unknownseas | WEEK 6

Another week, another three lost - and this time all to one murder case. And that's to say nothing of the execution, or whatever went on with that ouija board that still sits in the library... strange things are afoot in the facility, and some of them not even your captor seems fully equipped to explain.

The other of the two doors in the main living area finally opens after another lost Saturday, and what lies beyond is... strange, to say the least. Looks like there's no shortage of changes, even in the architecture. It certainly seems like you should have gotten something like this before the water park at the very least, don't you think?

Angel's still out and about at night, if you want to be found. And who knows what else you might find if you're out alone? Apparently, you might have a ghost on your hands.

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[ooc: Welcome to Week 6! If you want Angel or to try your hand at the ouija, please make sure to note in your toplevel, same as an investigation! AC is over here, regains are here, and, well...

You've all got a new app on your devices! Use it wisely. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No.

[Not even a little. He lights the kindling with a match from his laptop-sized box of matches and sits back with the muffin in his lap, looking. Very tired.]

She wouldn't have let me start a fire here, for one thing.

[ She absolutely wouldn't have, it's true. ]

Well... how else are you supposed to use all of those matches?

No idea. Almost a waste, isn't it. Still, better than nothing.

[Is it, though.]

Maybe Birkin could work them into his... thing.

That's not a bad idea.

[ ... speaking of things from the vending machine. ]

I actually have something... I'm not sure if it belongs to you, but...

[ Hold on, she's digging through her bag... there it is. She holds out a key. ]

Does this look familiar?

[Maybe it's a good thing he hasn't eaten any of the muffin yet. He might've choked. As it is, he draws one sharp breath in, barely daring to move.]

That's...

[Slowly, he extends his hand for it.

The one wearing the locked iron band.]

[ Ah, so it is his.

She hands it over, gently placing it in his hand. ]

I've... had it for a while, but I didn't think too much of it. I'm sorry it took so long to get back to you.

[It's in his hand. It's real. Another half-strangled laugh escapes him.]

I'm not supposed to have this.

[He covers his mouth because he's not sure what sound he's going to make next.]

If they knew I had this and the dragonstone...

[ Oh.... oh dear. ]

... You'd be in some serious trouble, wouldn't you?

I'd be free.

[His hand moves up to cover as much of his face as it can.]

And I haven't even... brought them the first stone. I could just walk away with it, and they'd never know.

[ She has no idea what Therion's situation in his world is, but... ]

... So what will you do? It sounds like it works in your favor.

[That's a dizzying question, like standing on the edge of a ravine and looking down, and down, and down. Just taking a breath is a struggle, let alone answering. He wrestles with both as his blood pounds, as firewood crackles with blooming heat.]

I didn't make good on the deal yet. I...

[His fingers close tightly around the key.]

I haven't made good on anything. So how... how can you give this to me, when you could've... Don't you know you can only depend on someone as long as you've got something they need?

[He doesn't sound angry, or scornful. He sounds the way a reopened wound looks, cracked and wet and raw.]

[ She draws in a breath, sharp and painful, but... she doesn't look away from him. ]

... I didn't give it to you because I thought I'd get something out of it. I thought it might belong to you, so I wanted you to have it back--especially if it's something important.

... If someone here is using me for something, then I'm not sure what that something is. I can say why it would happen back in my world, why he-- [ She stops herself. ] ... I've been alone for a very, very long time. And it might be naive and foolish, but maybe that's why I'm so willing to do so much for you-- for everyone here.

That's all.

['That's all.' That is all. It's almost everything, to hear all those things put into someone else's words--to hear her say that, Mira Delacroix, of all people. He wiped the blood off her knife himself. Between his hand and his hair, most of his face is still obscured, but Therion's eyes are fixed on her through the spaces between his fingers.]

...After everything you've been through...

['...Trust me when I say that. I've always believed in you. And I know that belief wasn't misguided.'

A thief's hands always have to be steady. His voice, not so much.]

You're still willing... to risk feeling like that again?

[ For a while, she's quiet, considering. It's a question she's thought about, but never really asked herself. Therion's put a voice to something she's never allowed herself to think too hard about, but... now that he has, she can't avoid it.

But it's still... ]

... I am. It might be irrational, and it might lead to pain in the end, but... I don't think I could ever regret caring, or opening up. I haven't yet, not truly.

[ It's strange to admit that, but the sincerity in her voice--that's crystal clear.

She maintains that look, as much as everything is telling her to break it. ]

Even if it's one of the hardest things I've done, or will ever do.

[He's the one who has to swallow and close his eyes. Finally, eventually, he manages a long, steady exhale, rubs the back of his hand across his face, and holds the key to his freedom to his chest.]

Thanks. For giving this to me.

[He turns his gaze towards the fire as he tries, and fails, to offer something adequate in return. He lets out a short sigh and drops his head a bit.]

You know. I could teach you how to fight. The way I do, I mean. [The way small people have to.] Might be easier for you than learning from Her Powerful Excellency the Archbishop.

Oh-- you're welcome.

[ And that offer... it gives her pause. He doesn't have to give her anything in return, and yet... For a few moments, she doesn't say anything; she knows her answer, at least, and when she manages to speak-- ]

... I'd appreciate that. A lot, actually. [ It's better to be safe tan sorry. And as much as she wants to believe the best of people here, it stands to reason that on another Friday, they may very well find someone again.

She doesn't want to be that someone. ] I can promise you I'll be an excellent student.

Huh. Someone's confident. We'll see about that, won't we?

[He takes another piece of wood and throws it into the low flames.]

So you know, I don't do book learning. We start tomorrow. Wear clothes you can move in.

WEEK 6

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