WEEK 3

[strangerpeople]

WEEK 3

[It has begun. With the death of the Spinner and the execution of the Indulgent, they remaining Titled will be plagued once more by vivid dreams. And just as last week, they are awoken by the sounds of doors creaking open.

Just like last week. But no one had died last week. Right? No one had been subjected to that...thing.

And yet the strange, cold feeling of foreboding remains. And it is certainly most worrisome to those living in rooms 3, 4, 6, and 15. Those who pass by room 7 and 8 will feel that same, worrisome feeling of foreboding as well.

What will they wake up to find? Who knows, now. If dragons are real, anything is possible.

There are thirteen strangers in this place.]

Comments

Experimenting and checking up

[carries_war]

[Library]

[Yesterday's meeting was informative, in more ways than he expected. So, out of curiosity, Rubedo has gotten his own blank journal from the Intercessor and sat down to write in it in the same language most of the books here are in. On the front, he's written his name, number, and Title. Anyone looking over his shoulder will see that he's using it as a journal:

'A couple people found journals from what looks like another group going through the same things as us. It looks like stuff from this prison is showing up in theirs and vice versa. I'm not really sure how it works, but I'm sure we'll find out eventually.

We've lost two people so far, thanks to these dumb Titles. A lot of us still don't know what ours mean, so it's making me a little nervous. I can only hope nobody here has some kind of power that kills people with a touch or something.

There's also that virus to worry about. There's some people here that might be strongly affected by it, and the 'option' they're giving us for a cure isn't something we can accept. They're obviously hoping we'll all die of it, or else we'll refuse to vote for the right culprit. Hell, they might even wait for one person to die, and then claim she's the culprit. They seem to want us dead badly enough to do that. They're just like him. Bastards.'

After he's done writing that, he sits down with one of the books he got from Fie earlier: Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Pester him at risk of nerdery.]

[Pretty Much Everywhere]

[After that, he starts making rounds of the Depths, trying to track down everyone he can. His movements are subtly off, an astute eye might realize that his reaction times are slowed. He's trying to play it off, but there's only so much he can do to hide it.]

Are you doing alright still?

check up!

[defriendestration]

ME? I'M DOING PERFECTLY FINE!

....

ARE YOU?

Re: check up!

[carries_war]

Not too bad. Even without powers, URTVs are naturally healthy.

[defriendestration]

WELL, YOU KNOW! SKELETONS ARE PRETTY HEALTHY TOO! AS YOU CAN SEE. I AM VERY HEALTHY. AND NOT AT ALL SICK!

JUST LIKE YOU, RIGHT?

[carries_war]

Yeah, I'm...I'm fine.

[His voice is carefully measured and, now that he's getting a little flustered, he's tripping over his words. He's not fine.]

[defriendestration]

[Papyrus is many things, but unempathic isn't one of them, thankfully.]

RIGHT! OF COURSE! I CAN SEE YOU ARE AT THE ABSOLUTE PEAK OF HEALTH! SO YOU PROBABLY DON'T NEED ANY WATER OR FOOD OR TO BE READ A GOOD BOOK OR ANYTHING.




BUUUUUUT JUST TO BE FAIR TO EVERYONE I AM WONDERING IF YOU WANT TO MAYBE HAVE MY TRY AND COOK SOMETHING FOR YOU?

[carries_war]

I can cook for myself just fine. [Too long pause.] But if you have a good book to recommend, I won't say no.

[defriendestration]

WELL! I DO HAVE A COOKBOOK! IT'S CALLED WOOKIE COOKIES AND OTHER GALACTIC RECIPES.




DON'T WORRY, THE COOKIES AREN'T MADE OF WOOKIES, WHATEVER THOSE ARE.

[carries_war]

Oh, that's a species from a series called Star Wars! I've read some of the books, it's an old science fiction series.

[defriendestration]

OH??

YOU WANNA MAKE COOKIES?

[carries_war]

Sure! I've never really had many sweets before! Not that I can remember, anyway...

And I can tell you a bit about the Star Wars setting while we're baking!

[defriendestration]

[Oh no Rubedo is catching Shouting Syndrome from Papyrus!]

YAY!!

WELL, I GOT LOTS OF WHEAT SO LET'S DO THIS!!

[COOKING GAME IS A GO]

[carries_war]

[Nah, talking about books always gives him a case of the Shouts.]

But, uh...I've never actually tried to bake before...I hope that's alright...

[defriendestration]

[Shouting in any case!]

THERE IS ALWAYS A FIRST TIME! AND NO WORRIES - I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE!

checkup!

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor smiles at Rubedo fondly ]

I am, yes. You are not affected yourself?

[carries_war]

I'm feeling a little funny, but it's not too bad.

[Except the slowed reaction times are driving him nuts, but shh.]

[bythewaves]

That is well. So far, I have seen no change in myself, so perhaps I have been spared this. Tell me, if you need anything, hm?

[carries_war]

Right. I already had to adapt to everything seeming faster once, so it shouldn't be too hard to do it again...

[bythewaves]

I imagine things will be very odd for you. [ he says wryly ]

But I am here, if you need anything.