WEEK 7

[bathymetric]

Another Saturday gone and just like that you wake on Sunday, down five of your number. The largest dent taken out of you at once so far - it's surely noticeable, the head count being cut by a third. Almost enough to make you wonder how many of you will even be left by the next motive or two. Surely this isn't a sustainable rate for body counts to increase... right?

There's a new and, it looks like, final wing of the building to explore, bringing everything full circle. Maybe you'll get some more answers to some of the questions and mysteries of this place there - or at least, you can certainly hope for them. Time to turn your investigative eyes towards one last batch of rooms, who knows what you might find?

Angel remains around at night, her appearances much more common now that... well, she's certainly seen a downtick in necessary surveillance work, hasn't she? The app giving you a line to The Professor remains open, and well... whatever's going on with that ouija in the library continues to happen! You're not suffering from a shortage of leads, at least, even as things get more bizarre.

Something's going to have to give here, eventually. Right?



SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to your last player case week! AC is over here, regains as always are over here, and... well, enjoy! After this we get to take our big turn towards the Serious. ]

Comments

art room, redux

[nothingcanstop]

[ Having found four, not five, new portraits at the memorial leads Della in one direction. She finds Mira at the kiln. ]

Mira? Honey? ...Are you okay?

[philoxenia]

[ She's doing at least a little better now, but... yeah, still contemplating the kiln. That's normal! She looks to Della, though, then lets out a sigh. ]

I've... never had so much trouble with one of these.

[nothingcanstop]

[ She walks over. ]

...It's always been different, in a way. It's never been her.

[ Oh, Rhea. What have you done to this girl? ]

[philoxenia]

[ She nods, frowning to herself. ]

She left a letter. I... read it this morning, and... I think that's why I'm having so much trouble.

[nothingcanstop]

[ ...Her too, huh? ]

Do...you want to talk about it? About what it said?

[philoxenia]

I think... it might help.

[ Actually, she knows it will. She lets out a breath and crosses over to sit at one of the tables. ]

I'm just-- I don't know where to start.

[nothingcanstop]

[ Well, Della takes a seat next to her. Not opposite, makes it a little hard to hold her hand or hug her if she needs it. ]

...When you think about her... About her face. What does it make you feel?

[philoxenia]

[ ..... oof, that's a hell of a question. ]

... Um. [ She hesitates, and looks up at the ceiling. ] ... Before, or now?

[nothingcanstop]

[ ... ]

Let's start with before.

[philoxenia]

[ She hesitates, then lowers her gaze to the table. ]

... Well... um. Trust. [ Yikes, this is getting very real very fast. ] Warmth. [ Things similar to what she feels when she thinks about Della, actually. ] Acceptance. I-- I really cared about her. ... I still do, but...

[nothingcanstop]

[ One of Della's small, four-fingered hands rests on Mira's arm. ]

But?

[philoxenia]

But--

[ Her hand covers Della's, and the other comes up to cover her face. ]

I'm angry at her. I still care about her, and I don't think anything could erase that, but I'm-- I'm so mad.

[nothingcanstop]

...You're allowed to be mad at her. She really hurt you.

[ So much that even Birkin brought it up, which was wild. Della squeezes Mira's hand. ]