FINAL WEEK

[strangerpeople]

FINAL WEEK

[Four weeks. Nine survivors.

Everything is...very quiet now. Like, surprisingly so. The lack of Marie's voice is both refreshing and strange after three weeks. But, she is gone, and even if Bottson updates the profiles to reflect that, yes, you still lost someone, you are finally free.

But are you really? There's still a lot of questions that need to be answered. For one thing, were they really inside someone's body? If so, what does it mean for the universe? Who, exactly, is Ivy, and why is her death so important? And--who is really in charge of this?

Whatever the answers are, there are still floors left to explore, with no warning as to what might be on them. It's best to rest and prepare before you do anything more, especially with one of your number still injured. There is still time left, after all, and you'll all want to be ready for whatever might be next.

There are nine strangers in this place.]


SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY

Comments

incinerator

[backuphero]

[Jonathan's taken to carefully wandering the accessible parts of the base, over the past couple of days. He's got most of his balance back; though he isn't exactly eager to try sparring with anyone they've got left, walking can only help.

The sound of the elevator, and then a door opening and closing around the curve gives him a moment's pause. No one in the theater, no one in the winery, but in the room with the furnace....]

...Angela, what are you doing?

[He's not suspicious, he's baffled.]

[fashionfever]

[There's a loud thud inside the incinerator right around when he gets through the door, and then she turns around, hiding something with one hand behind her back.]

Nothing! Nothing! [She waves her free hand, forcing a smile very poorly.] I just had some trash, but, uh, I threw away all the trash now! All those icky fabric scraps are gone!! Nothing to worry about!!!

[backuphero]

[That's a very, very forced smile, but he's not going to push too hard at it. Definitely notices that hand behind her back, though, but he's not going to say so.]

You've been kind of... look, I've unloaded enough on you, you know you can talk to me if something's wrong, right?

[fashionfever]

Why would anything be wrong? It's all going great! You don't think I'm in the way of the happy party we're having while we're still totally stuck in here, do you?

[backuphero]

[Okay, she's... like she was when he was really out of it. Only it's worse now that he's not, because now he doesn't have that as an excuse to fall back on if he messes up and says the wrong thing. He disguises a frustrated sigh as a yawn.]

Sorry, I'm just... messed up my sleep times, I'm still a little out of it. Sounded like that was a lot of fabric, though, wish you'd asked me to help. Feel kinda useless sometimes, you know?

[fashionfever]

...

[She honestly had already forgotten the fabric lie. That's how This she is. She has to take a moment to really think about how to answer in light of this. Lying. Thing. That she's doing.]

I... like having help, but... there are a lot of venues where I've had to carry heavy boxes of tools and stuff like that by myself, too. I'm sure you can find something else to do.

[backuphero]

Didn't mean to imply you couldn't, just... it takes less time when you share the work, or at least it's always felt that way to me.

[Yet again, he has no idea what he's done wrong.]

[fashionfever]

...

[The angel and the devil bicker among themselves for a little while. They don't get anywhere. Angela presents the item from behind her back.

A single geta, impaled on all sides with the sewing pins that she also got out of the machine.]

[backuphero]

[That's definitely not something he's familiar with, but it looks like... a Japanese shoe treated like a voodoo doll?]

Ange, what on Earth?

[fashionfever]

What else am I supposed to take it out on? The trash compactor wall things?

[backuphero]

[He shakes his head, and stares down at the floor as though maybe a cue card will pop up with something safe and reassuring to say.

Naturally, no such thing happens.]

Better that than breaking your hand on the walls or poking yourself full of holes, that's for sure.

[And he takes a deep breath, and then looks back up.]

I'm sorry. I... I guess I'm more of a kid than I'd like to admit. Maybe most of us are. It's like we all want someone else to be "the adult", and it keeps falling on you, and that's not fair to dump on one person.

[Just maybe he's making some pretty significant leaps in logic as to why Shoe Murderation happened, but he's trying....]

[fashionfever]

...

...You think I'm the adult in the room? Which, like, I am, but you really believe it?

[She seems positively touched.]

[backuphero]

Yeah. Yeah, I really do.

[He's trying really hard not to look away as he usually would when blushing at something like saying that so very outright, and as a result he's standing like a nervous kid, hands tucked in his pockets and shoulders a bit hunched.

But he holds her gaze. He really does mean it, after all.]

[fashionfever]

...

Thank you...! [unironically] That makes... one person...!

[backuphero]

[He can't crack now. They're down to the wire. If the pattern holds, even if nobody dies they'll be forced into figuring something out very soon by whatever had Marie convinced she was the God of this place, and he's got to be absolutely together for that, but...

But letting himself feel something that isn't (desperate, fear-driven) happiness or (grief-masking, ultimately hollow) rage isn't cracking. Worry and... warmth. Fondness? Whatever this is, it's not pity, and it's not easy to name.

Who cares if she's still holding the Voodoo Sandal. Angela is getting a hug.]

Nobody else is going to die here. Not if I have anything at all to say about it. So don't... don't even think for a second that you're allowed to, all right?

[fashionfever]

[Why...? Why is he so... soft...? He really is like an overgrown golden retriever... How she wishes she could just get a pet, even a hamster or something...

> cling]

But it's just like you said! I have to - have to get help from someone I can't—can't—

[backuphero]

That's part of being human. We're not... we aren't perfect. That's the point, that we aren't but we still do good things. If you need help, then ask. Don't just... don't hold yourself apart from everyone just because you got handed responsibility you didn't ask for.

[He runs a hand down over her hair, and rests his head against hers. It's like that other time, at the trial, except now he's the one being strong.]

Trust me, I've been there. That's not how "heroes" work, and it's not how regular people work either... and we need both to get out of here, you know?

[fashionfever]

[It is nice to feel warmth. He has a sunshine about him even if wherever they are there's none of the real stuff.]

I... I know I'm strong with you guys... I know we can just... look at the evidence and figure it out and fight for ourselves... r-reach for the stars... but...

[She looks up at Jonathan with shining eyes.]

To get out of here... stabbing a corpse in the neck has NOTHING to do with that! It doesn't help ANYONE else! How am I supposed to watch him get off with a slap on the wrist? No - not even that! He literally has not even gotten a slap on the wrist!

cw: catholic doctrine concerning dead bodies?

[backuphero]

[Jonathan almost sighs. Here we go again, the Problem of Yurick, this is not going to be easy or pleasant.]

Maybe I'm an idiot to have any faith in somebody who almost got me killed when all this started, but... sometimes the worst punishment's the one you inflict on yourself. He's been tearing himself in two since the start of this.

[And he does sigh, then.]

When I realized he'd done that, I wanted to kill him. A couple of weeks ago I might even have tried, but... it wouldn't have undone what was done, and I don't think he understood what it'd mean to some of us that he'd... what it'd mean to have done that to her. He didn't grow up with the kind of church you and I did, if he even was raised in some kind of faith. There's a lot of people who don't see the body as anything but a container for the soul....

cw more attempts at catholic doctrine

[fashionfever]

Okay, but, body or soul or not... he could have gotten you killed! The goal was to get someone killed, right? An innocent person killed! That's, like, the greatest example of a mortal sin, right there!

You know, there are lots of bad guys out there who tear themselves up after getting caught? It's just one more thing for them to tear. Why do you keep wearing their crown of thorns?

[It's a tighter shackle than the ring she used to wear and through the painful magic powers of empathy it hurts her just as much!]

[backuphero]

I -

[Damn it she's got a very valid point, and Indulgence or no Indulgence he's not Mr. Stoker's invented Dutch professor and it's true.]

But... I could have ended up the same way. If I'd shown up here earlier, I... he reminded me of me, right after my father died, so I reached out. I just... I know it doesn't make any sense, but....