WEE͠K ̸́4͝

[strangerpeople]

W҉͘E͜͠͝E̕K̡̛͡ ̡͟4̸

[The blight is all-consuming.

Within days dozens are confirmed infected, and you and your unexpected new scientist friend find yourselves trying to work on a cure. If not a cure, a stopgap of some kind. Anything to prevent this thing from destroying everything. It's hard work. It's not going very well. Really, it feels like with every step forward, you're taking ten steps back. Discouraging is an understatement, to say the least.

A week passes, and the death toll rises. It's really starting to look bleak. You constantly second-guess yourself, and even get into a fistfight with your new ally one night. It's getting to the point where you are working on fumes.

Then, unexpectedly, you get a phone call. It's been a long night, and the sun is beginning to rise above the mountains, when it happens.

You and the scientist are not the only ones looking for a cure. In fact, there are at least a dozen others-and they think they may be close to a breakthrough.

But-and you can't believe you're hearing this, after all of the failure you'd experienced throughout this blight-they need your help.]


---


[To say that the end of last week sucked would be an understatement. To say that no one knows what this week will bring is not even in question. Yet even as you wake, you feel a cloud lift from your mind, as one of the truths you've been living with since the beginning has suddenly changed.]




[But is it possible to abide by this new truth? The Hosts, and IT beyond, seem intent on making that impossible. And the rat...well. Obviously the rat's not an ally. Let's not kid ourselves.

There's only one way to find out if more deaths can truly be prevented-and that's to keep going, and hoping that the new floor that has opened up will offer something in the way of an opportunity.

In the meantime.


There are 11 strangers left in this place.]

Comments

[icanhearscreams]

No pulse here. Not for a long time.

[poorlovefool]

[Alright, well in that case, here's a brief sigh of relief as he puts his hand down at the same time. Although he's still not sure how to process this information.]

I'm sorry.

[icanhearscreams]

[He shrugs.]

It's been seven or eight months, maybe? Time is weird there. So I've kind of gotten used to it. I don't like it, but...

[He can't do anything about it right now.]

[poorlovefool]

[It occurs to Eric that he's basically surrounded by zombies right now. The undead. Some instinct inside of him triggers, his eyes glowing for a second and then fading as he gets a hold of himself. Don't do anything crazy, Eric, that's stupid. But he has to be honest here.]

I-I don't like it either, honestly. I need to think about this...

[icanhearscreams]

As long as you're careful and don't get killed, you'll have a while.

[poorlovefool]

I'm not gonna die. I-I'm not. People know I'm useful. Somehow.