Week 9.

[trustharder]

WEEK 9 For the first time since your stay in the Vault began, no one died this week. That doesn't mean there weren't casualties among you, however – namely, trust, interpersonal relationships, and comfort in the group dynamic as a whole. Hopefully no one else pays the price for it. Saturday is given to regrouping and sleep; there aren't any bodies to be found on Sunday morning. You're safe for now – unless your dreams have told you otherwise... SURVIVORS REMAINING: 10

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week nine of Trustfell! Save your threads for coins; don't forget to submit your memory regains! There is no activity check this week!

THE FINAL INVESTIGATION BEGINS ON THURSDAY!
THIS IS THE LAST WEEK TO REDEEM COINS!
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

[goodforsomething]

[In the morning, Stan pins up a note in the dining room.]

Boxing Lessons
2:00 in the Dojo
This means you, Gabriel
Others welcome

[That done, he continues painting the wall while he eats. But the ship painting has been abandoned for now; instead, he's just doing a tree. Something simple, with less emotional baggage.

Once he's done, he wanders upstairs to the bar for a while. Not to drink. Just to sit, idly swirling a glass in one hand. Maybe he'll come back for it later.

Of course, he'll be in the dojo at the assorted time, having repurposed most of the pads into punching targets. No one should be taking a fall with what he's got planned, so they don't need too many on the floor. Real lessons would be rougher. He just doesn't want to risk anyone getting hurt this late in the game.

Later in the evening, he stops by the chapel. News about the ghosts is out, so he doesn't hesitate to set up the usual seance stuff. Did you see all that?

After a while with no response, he adds, If you did, I'm sorry.

Still nothing. After a longer wait, he scraps it. He'll remain in the chapel for a while, sitting in a pew with ha eyes shut. He looks like he could be sleeping, except for the fact that he's still in one piece.]

Dojo

[pokexplorer]

[Boxing lessons? That's...a little strange considering everything, but Colress actually does show up for Stan's lessons. Let's just say he has a good reason for it.]

I don't suppose you could give me a few pointers, Mr. Pines?

[Have fun teaching the nerd, Stan.]

[goodforsomething]

Oh, geez. [Not who he was expecting, nope.] Okay, sure. You ever hit anything before?

[pokexplorer]

[Hey, he heard that. He gives a small, knowing smile.]

I may be a scientist and a Pokemon Trainer, but it's not like I forgo all physical activity. I promise I will not be completely useless at this.

And to answer your question: yes. Not in any organized manner, mind, but yes.

[goodforsomething]

Okay, lemme see. Toss a punch at me.

...and try not to actually hit me. [Though if he does, well, whatever. No offense, but Stan doesn't anticipate being incapacitated by a punch from Colress.]

[pokexplorer]

[How does one punch and not try to hit the person?? Just kidding, he understands. It's like asking Klinklang to throw gears at another of his Pokemon simply for the sake of having that Pokemon practice dodging.

With a nod, he'll back up a tiny bit and then give a good swing in Stan's direction, but not directly at his face. It's nothing awe-inspiring, just an average swing.]

[goodforsomething]

Huh. Okay, not too bad. [Stan paces around to Colress's side, looking him over.] Needs more follow-through, but at least you're not gonna break your thumb doin' that.

[It's the least he can ask.]

You don't just wanna swing with your arm - you gotta put your whole body into it. Like this. [He demonstrates, slowly, swinging at the air.]

dojo

[notjustawriter]

[Gabriel might be kind of a weenie, but he's a weenie who was outclassed by a teenager; he's at a disadvantage here, especially if he's going to help take on the Kingmaker. He'll be in the dojo at 2:00 exactly, looking uncomfortable, but present.]

I figure this might be one of the last chances for relative peace we have.

[Having a friend teach him how to hold his own doesn't sound so bad, considering.]

[goodforsomething]

Yeah, I think we've got until maybe Friday before he tries whackin' us all. Wouldn't be surprised if it happened on Tuesday.

I should've done this with you earlier anyway. You did good bringin' those brass knuckles last Tuesday, but you don't really know how to use 'em, do you?

[notjustawriter]

[Gabriel sighs. It's not like he can lie about this, when it's obvious he's clueless.]

I haven't, no. This is supposed to protect me.

[He touches his talisman as he speaks.]

But I guess its powers are gone here, same as everyone else's.

[Or maybe it didn't work because Black isn't actually evil; that's entirely possible, too.]

[goodforsomething]

[Stan arches a brow at that. Ford's realm again, but still interesting.]

Protect you how?

[notjustawriter]

I'm not sure, to tell you the truth. I know when I was facin' a werewolf, it hurt him to look at it. He couldn't get near me when I had it out.

I reckon it's blessed.

[goodforsomething]

[Blessed? Sounds too religious for Stan's tastes]

Eh. Maybe they're allergic to gold instead of silver. I know I'd spread a bunch of false rumors if I was a werewolf!

chapel

[amygdalae]

[Most of today has been a lot of self reflection on Bruce's end. He's also slightly hungover, but that's nothing he can't deal with.

He's spent most of the day simply being in his room, but he does come up here eventually, if only to dwell on more things that involve the losses they all experienced. Only ten of them left alive... and at least they didn't lose anymore, but was it honestly worth the price of what they discovered? Bruce doesn't know.

He's already at a corner when Stan initially arrives, although Bruce makes no move to acknowledge him or note anything that he's doing. He just stays where he is, curled up at the corner of a pew at the far end and staring into nothing as he loses himself in his own thoughts.]

[goodforsomething]

[Stan's willing to let that go for a while - to be honest, Bruce was so quiet that he didn't even notice him at first. But he came up to have a conversation with the others, not harangue Bruce into one, so he'll just go about his dark magic rituals and let him have his peace.

The others don't show up. Eventually he blows out the candles, tucks the mirror under his arm, and goes to return it to its spot under the pew. The Kingmaker knows about all this already, so there's little point in hiding it. It's just habit now.]

Ghosts aren't pickin' up.

[amygdalae]

[Bruce glances up to Stan when the other speaks to him, eyes a little red-rimmed, but nothing else to indicate just exactly how he feels right now.]

Hopefully they're alright. [When he speaks his voice is nearly inaudible if it hadn't been for how quiet the chapel already is.]

[goodforsomething]

They don't come every single time. Might just be busy.

[.....]

I'll check in with Colress, his little guy might know somethin'.

[amygdalae]

[A nod.]

...let me know how that goes.

[Well, if Stan wants to anyway. Bruce isn't going to go after him if he doesn't.]

[goodforsomething]

Sure, sure.

[...this is terrible.] You eaten yet today?

Dojo

[isafraid]

[It's been a long couple of weeks. Speedwaogn knew he was different by now, less a fighter and more of a support. That didn't mean he probably couldn't put up a struggle though. But maybe this was the right idea.

He was hardly a professional pugilist but that doesn't mean he can't check this out, can he?]

Mister Pines? Afternoon. How are the lessons going?

[goodforsomething]

Pretty good! [Stan is currently re-wrapping his knuckles; gotta be careful not to fuck himself up before whatever happens this week.] You come up to watch, or participate?

[isafraid]

[Wouldn't want ya breaking a bone, old man.]

Participate? [He almost laughs a bit.] I haven't been in a proper fight in weeks, more likely then not I'm incredibly shoddy now.

[....My how things change.]

[goodforsomething]

Sounds like a good reason to have a go. The KM's gonna try to kill us all soon - if he gives us a shot, I'm gonna fight back!

[isafraid]

He, good on you then.

[The more people they had in their midst ready to throw down with the Kingmaker, the better, right? That's all they could hope for if a confrontation quickly turned sour.

Speedwagon could suddenly think of a good reason or two for these lessons.]

Guess... I might as well stick around then. Maybe a lesson or two will shake off the rust, eh?

[goodforsomething]

Sure! Might as well put ya to use, big guy! How about you line up and show me how you fight?

[Stan steps to one side and gestures to the mat. Colress is one thing, but he's not putting himself in Speedwagon's line of fire. He likes his ribcage intact.]