FINAL WEEK

[strangerpeople]

FINAL WEEK

[Well. What else can be said? The Little Courtesy is over. You have all survived. You are now going to your final destination-with invitations to boot. And Charlotte will be getting that private audience, as promised.

But it's not over. Everyone knows it. Confrontation is inevitable. The question is what, exactly, will happen when that confrontation happens-or if anyone will in fact be able to go with Charlotte when it happens. But you've gone this far. There's no turning back. There has to be a way.

Nothing has been certain, or simple. Whatever happens will be no different from the horrors of the Little Courtesy. Perhaps the saying might still hold. Will all be well? Will it?

It must. God help everyone if it isn't.

Seven is the Number, but there are nine strangers left in this place.]

Comments

[higanbana]

[There's a long pause of consideration, before:]

...The door is unlocked. Please close it behind you. It is very loud.

[charmingheroine]

[The train is as disturbingly quiet as ever. Her heart sinks.]

Okay, I will. I'm coming in now, all right?

[And as she does - what is it she sees?]

cw: eye squick

[higanbana]

[The room itself is mostly fine. It's the bed where damage has been done, and even that's just a complete deconstruction of the sheets. Like she's been constantly pulling them on and off, until they've started almost knotting together.

Ris herself is under a sheet, at present, and if Charlotte's seen her with bedhead before, this is ten times worse. Tossing and turning will do that.

She's a bit wild-eyed, for the one eye that's there. The other socket is uncovered and empty, for a change, although for the most part her eyelid just falls down to cover the socket without anything in place to help it stay open. Her undereyes are dark and puffed up, which is probably unsurprising given what Charlotte was hearing.

Ris doesn't say anything once Charlotte is inside, she just sits up. She looks smaller now than ever.]