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

[hardnosed]

[ She watches Therion's actions, chewing his words over (metaphorically though, ew, gross.) It does, obviously, go against her worldview — and not even the hierarchical and regimented part, but the part that refracts everything through the prism of battle. When you face off against an enemy, they should give you all they've got, not best you through deception and trickery.

But it's not like Jasper has ever been honorable in her dumbass lifeTherion is challenging anyone to honorable combat, one on one, and only then pulling a fast one on them. It's not like what he wants is victory, in the sense she knows and accepts it. He's just trying to continue his short existence and do what he's good at, whether or not he was literally made for it.

After he says the last part, though... ]

... It's like he stole you.

[bolderfell]

He did.

[He turns to flash her an entirely mirthless grin and just a glimpse of the shackle on his wrist.]

I don't like to be kept, and I don't like to be used. And knowing it's just another thief who brought me to this... well. Even a lowlife's pride can be pricked.