trusthell | WEEK 7.

WEEK 7.

WEEK 7
Two more Survivors have left you; Aqua was killed in cold blood and Mettaton... well, your thoughts on Mettaton probably vary depending on how close you were to him, but either way he chose to end Aqua's life and paid the price for it.

There are so few of you now.

Saturday is given to regrouping and sleep; there aren't any bodies to be found on Sunday morning. But that doesn't mean the night was uneventful - it seems something else may have brought you some newfound clarity. Or perhaps not...

Once again, that spiral staircase leads farther than you remember, clear up to a previously inaccessible seventh floor. Go ahead and explore as much as you like; you've done well. You've earned it.

SURVIVORS REMAINING: 12

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week six 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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ ...there's a sigh of relief, even though he thought he'd find her here. ]

Hi, Miss Sigrun. Are you— [ oh god that's a vibrator buzzing off the bed there, isn't it ] ...having... fun?

[She knew this one would win. It looked the fastest. Let her rest the race!!]

Uh huh. How're you, kitten?

[ How is he...

...the smile's probably a little too cheerful, his laugh a little too pitched with it, but— ]

Just fine, like always. [ Even if last week he'd been a fucking mess and this week wasn't really shaping up to be any better. ] Mind if I come in?

[... She dated the epitome of performance, honey, and she knows how to read people anyway. There's nothing that Black can hide from her.]

Close the door on your way in, honey, it's getting a little drafty.

[Not that it bothers her, nor is there... an actual draft, probably? She'll clean up her mess of vibrators and pat the bed.]

[ There's no draft and he knows open doors don't bother her, which means this is a Talk and... he wants to back out of it.

But he'll come in and shut the door behind him as best he can before he joins her on the bed, folding his hands in his lap. ]

...I really am fine, Miss Sigrun. [ Not as... performance-worthy, but still there. ] You don't need to worry about me.

You're the person I worry about the most.

[She'd never worry about Mettaton when it came to most -- to most -- offers that guy made. But Black had always been one she'd wanted to keep an eye on even outside of that.]

From what I've seen, those pictures show precious people to us, and... Cherryblod wants it to be real, which I get why, but what about you? I won't blame you either way.

[ This is what he gets for never shutting up about his sister. ]

I don't know, honestly. [ Alive, but— ] If she's really there... if they're really real, and she's safe and okay, and she's not—dead, like every other girl here is, then I...

[ He has to, doesn't he? Take care of your sister. He has to.

It's just... if he fails—and despite all their getting off track, no culprit's ever walked free—he dies, and his chance dies with him. If they're real, and she isn't dead somehow, then there's still a chance that after all of this is over, he can be with her again.

Provided she also doesn't die before he can. Black feels the tears before they really start, tight in his throat; his hands are shaking a little when he takes his glasses off to press the heels of them to his eyes to stem the flow, teeth grit.

He's fine. He has to be. There's no time for crying anymore, not when he'd spent almost a week quietly moping when no one could see him. ]

I don't know if I could do it, Miss Sigrun. It's even harder now than it was before—if I really wanted to save her, I should've done it the second week we were here, when the incentive about saving people came up. There would be more people to blame it on, we weren't as familiar with each other then either so you'd never know if someone was capable of it or not, but now it's... [ A breath—breathing is important, he really needs to remember that. ] It's hard. I want them to be real because that means White's still alive here—wherever "here" is, or whatever it might be for her—even if she might not be back home.

But I... I hope they're fake, too. If that place is anything like our prison [ because it is what it is ] then the chances of it being just some sick murder game a sadistic freak decided to run are pretty high, and... I'd never wish that on her, not in a million years.

[ Not apart from him, anyway, where he could keep an eye on her and keep her safe. ]

[That's what she thought, listening to the end, seeing him try not to cry. Sigrun's going to give him a hug whether he wants it or not, it's not even loose enough to pull away.]

If they were real, and you thought you could do it, get away like no one else has... Would she forgive you?

[... Because that's what it comes down to.]

She wouldn't have to know.

[ It's said very softly, very matter of factly. Certain. He's kept things from her before; he'd do it again to keep her safe and happy. ]

The Kingmaker told me once he wouldn't have told Caren's sister about what she had done; I'm willing to bet the same applies here. She'd just never find out about what happened here, about what I had to do. It'd be easy.

[ A small laugh. ]

And if she did... She'd be disappointed in me, but it isn't like she wouldn't have done the same.

... If you choose to, then that's your choice, in the end.

[Mettaton's philosophy, Cherryblod's assurances, the thing that's making things for her as a leader easier when dealing with the reality at hand. As much as she doesn't like it.]

But I still don't think you would even if you thought you could, Black. Even if they were real and she was someplace like this. I want to believe you wouldn't, anyway, because you're a lot kinder than that.

I mean, I've been proven wrong before, so feel free to do it again! It's not like I haven't lost enough.

[-- Though that's wrong to say and she knows it, grimacing slightly with a shake of her head. Don't mind.]

[ Yes, that's—wrong to say, and he winces even while she shakes her head. He... shouldn't be talking like this, not after Mettaton's execution. Even if she asked, even if he wants to get it out somewhere before it turns him hollow...

He stays tense in her hug, slowly rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands; he wiggles them back to his lap after another minute, picking at his cuticles. ]

Sorry. Thanks.

[ Sorry for the reminder, thanks for the words. It's only her job as leader, he's sure she'd say, but it's more than that and he knows it. He'd have to be pretty stupid to just take her at face value when it comes to the sweeter stuff. ]

[Sigrun shakes her head again, but lays her cheek on the top of his afterwards. Loosing her grip a little.]

You're important to me. Simple as that.

["Leader" has nothing to do with it at this point, just like how it "leader" had nothing to do with Mettaton. And hadn't for a while.]

And I'm, uh. I'm sorry I said that. The second thing. About the... you know. [...] About proving me wrong. That was pretty harsh of me.

It was. [ He won't disagree there. ] Don't worry about it, though.

[ ... ]

I don't know if I could do it either—I feel like I'd chicken out on finishing the job because I know I wouldn't get away with it. [ If he absolutely could—he might give it serious thought, might make plans. ...might still not go through with it anyway, knowing he'd be damning some of his best friends.

Getting attached was a mistake, but Cherryblod's right: it's only human to. ] I'm sorry for worrying you too—I'm sure there's a couple more people worried about me too, so if you see them and they mention me, would you reassure them I'm okay? That I'll be okay.

Sure, but only if it's the absolute truth, Black. Don't make me leave this room just to sleep in yours.

[Because you can bet your ass pretty much every day but Thursday she's gonna sleep here. It's got her paintings in it too.]

[ The absolute truth...

Black hums noncommittally; it's hard to say if it's the absolute truth, but... ]

I'll try to be okay? [ ...does that work? ]

... Works for me!

[She'll give his hair a good ruffle before she lets him go, leaning back on the bed.]

Just don't bottle everything up if you've got someone to tell, sweetheart. You know I won't judge you for anything you put out there to me. I've had my own share of questionable opinions in the past.

[ A relieved sigh, looking at the door... and leaning back on the bed with her. ]

You might judge me for a couple of things.

Try me.

[ AHHH there's a wince. ]

I can't ever think of anything when I'm put on the spot. [ ugh... let's see? ] ...I keeping making deals with people I probably shouldn't?

[ ...yeah? ]

[...]

Like what do you mean?

[ ... ]

Not getting into everything I had when I was just a kid... [ He hums. ] I agreed to let an entity of questionable morals reside in me and gave him full control whenever he wanted it on the stipulation he didn't hurt my sister?

[ ??? Yeah.]

[........]

Like... a ghost?

[ uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ]

I don't know, actually. He was more powerful than a ghost, I think, but he wasn't God or anything like that.

[She notes the singular god and raises you an eyebrow.

But okay. Believe in your one god. They won't help you now.]

And you let him have total control of your body so he wouldn't hurt your sister.

Yes.

13

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject