WEEK 2.

[trustwellness]

WEEK 2 Adelina and Kyrie Ushiromiya are dead. Regardless of how you felt about them and whether or not you mourned their passing, life goes on. It seems the Wordsmith intends to make good on the rules he's left for you all. Saturday is given to regrouping and rest; on Sunday morning the clock chimes as it always has, but at least there are no bodies to find today. It seems you're safe for now. The night before wasn't necessarily a peaceful one, however; you'll probably feel a bit groggy when you wake up, and it seems you've regained something that you didn't realize you'd lost... Either way, it seems there's nothing to do but move on - or, perhaps, move down. Another door in that holding area near the elevator seems to have opened up, leading into a corridor and a stairwell that seems to lead you somewhere beneath the dormitories, and eventually onto a new floor altogether. Go ahead and explore all you like; after all, you did well at completing your lessons this past week. APPRENTICES REMAINING: 28

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[OOC: Welcome to week two of Trustfell! Feel free to make as many top levels as you'd like and tag out to other characters! This post is for all of your interactions this week... at least until the weekend. Don't forget to save those threads for coins and the activity check!

If you'd like to get in contact with the Wordsmith, you can do so through letters or the switchboard!]

Comments

cameras

[acherontiastyx]

[...ah. the guy he doesn't even fucking know what to do about. man.]

...you... looking for something, I guess?

[byday]

Cameras.

[He turns his head towards Guzma.]

He has to be keeping an eye on us somehow.

[acherontiastyx]

...Oh. Yeah, makes sense.

[...he thinks about it a little, though.]

...

You sure it's cameras he's using, though?

[byday]

No, after that trial, I'm not sure.

[He narrows his eyes.]

I figured it would be worth a second look-over, however. Nothing here is what it seems.

[acherontiastyx]

Yeah, I don't really know what to think anymore about that... but then, I don't even know if that shadow thing could actually get information across to anyone. Like, can it even see...?

[byday]

Maybe not the...thing, but there are obviously more forces at play here than what the Wordsmith tells us about. We don't know what he has in his arsenal.

[acherontiastyx]

Well, yeah, there's no way he's gonna tell us all about it. I wonder if we'll even be able to guess, though, because this is all real weird. Like, what if it's something we have no frame of reference for? All eldritch and stuff.

[byday]

I'd believe it. It's been hard to imagine that he's even human.

[acherontiastyx]

...I mean, not really, if you ask me. People are meeeessed up sometimes.

[byday]

[well gee wiz who woulda guessed]

Regardless, doing things like he's...done might be out of human reach.

[acherontiastyx]

...I mean. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from weird magical garbage, right?

[byday]

[That's actually a really good point?]

...That's not exactly an idea I would've considered myself. But it's a good one, depending on the kind of technology our man has.

[acherontiastyx]

It's kind of weird that we're stuck without washing machines if he has the ability to rip through universes with tech, but like. He could just be doing it to be a jerk. I'd put money on it, actually.

[byday]

It's deliberate, and it's a way of hindering us. If he had given us modern technology, we'd at least have a slightly better chance of escaping.

[acherontiastyx]

...

So do you know how to escape in a washing machine?

[...he sounds more or less genuinely curious, because for all he knows]

[byday]

[yes]

...Speaking entirely hypothetically, of course.

[acherontiastyx]

Could you blow it up, maybe.

[byday]

I don't know. My butler washes my clothes for me.

[acherontiastyx]

Oh, right.

[...look, bruce is cool, but he's still rich, so.]

How's that workin' out for you here.

[byday]

[...man he sounds almost offended.]

I still know how to wash my clothes.