WEEK 2.

[trustharder]

WEEK 2 Two people are gone from the group. Zagi and Kamui are dead, twenty-five of you are still alive, and the first week in the Vault comes to a close. Saturday is given to regrouping and sleep; on Sunday morning, those klaxons are as annoying as ever but at the very least there aren't any bodies to be found. It can be assumed, perhaps, that 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... However, those weird dreams aren't the only new thing around here; one of the previously closed-off section near the vending machine has opened up, revealing a spiral staircase leading up to the next floor. Go ahead and explore as much as you like; consider it your reward for a job well done. SURVIVORS REMAINING: 25

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week two of Trustfell! Save your threads for coins and the coming week's activity check; don't forget to check in to this week's activity check and submit your memory regains!

The text and calling posts are still active, for the sake of contacting the jerk who's keeping you here, to be used at your leisure!]

Comments

Breakfast

[goodforsomething]

Oh. Mornin'.

[Stan's already here with his eggs and coffee.] You sleep okay last night?

[No weird dreams or anything?]

[notjustawriter]

[Gabriel gives a vague wave.]

Morning.

Ah, naw. I slept like hell; had a hell of a nightmare.

[goodforsomething]

Huh. You too?

[notjustawriter]

You had a strange dream too?

....I wonder what it means.

[goodforsomething]

I just dreamed about a buncha zombies. Figured it was 'cause you were askin' everyone about 'em yesterday...

[notjustawriter]

Shit, really?

....I wonder if anyone else dreamed about zombies. That's a hell of a thing.

[goodforsomething]

What, you too?

[That IS weird]

[notjustawriter]

No, I didn't dream about zombies, but I was practically actin' like one in the one I had.

It was the weirdest out of body experience I've ever had.

[goodforsomething]

Huh. That's weird. I was normal in mine.

...well, fightin' zombies, but other than that.

[notjustawriter]

In my dream, I was in a dressin' room. Like what you might find if you went to a play or somethin'. I put stage makeup all over a mirror, and waited for a guy to show up-- an actor, I guess? And I beat the hell out of him and tied him up with duct tape.

It was goddamn weird.

[goodforsomething]

Huh.

Welllll, maybe the guy had it comin'.

[notjustawriter]

Maybe.

I sure as hell don't know who he is, though. Thank god it was just a dream.

[goodforsomething]

Yeeeeeeah. It makes sense we'd all have crazy dreams. I'm kinda surprised they weren't worse, considerin'...

[He may not have known Zagi or Kamui well, or been especially grieving over their deaths, but he doesn't exactly witness bloody murder every day either.]

[notjustawriter]

At least I didn't dream about death.

That sort of thing is unpleasant.

[Which... sounds like this is a dream he's had before, um]

[goodforsomething]

Yeah, that's never fun.

[What, do people not normally have nightmares about death?]

[notjustawriter]

No, it ain't.

Sometimes I get dreams of the future-- they're vague, though. Metaphorical.

But I don't know what the hell a dream like that could mean.

[goodforsomething]

Really? I mostly just dream about the usual stuff.

[Whatever that means. In this context, probably the past.]

Maybe it means you're gonna meet an asshole actor. [Stan pauses, then laughs.] Maybe you'll get to take out the Kingmaker! That'd be fun!

[notjustawriter]

[That... actually earns a laugh.]

I might have solved a case before, but I don't think I'm any good at takin' out bad guys.

[goodforsomething]

Hey, now seems like a good time to learn!

[notjustawriter]

Ha!

Me, stoppin' bad guys. I guess there's a first time for everything.

[goodforsomething]

You really oughta be able to fight if you're in a place like this, at least.

[notjustawriter]

You're right. Not being able to fight might be a death sentence in a place like this.

[goodforsomething]

Did you ever get in fights when you were a kid?

[notjustawriter]

Not exactly. My Gran would've killed me.

[goodforsomething]

Yeah? [Stan laughs.] My old man just sent me to boxing lessons so I'd quit losin'.