Trustfell 4: Trust Fall or Die Hard (
trustwellness) wrote in
trusthell2017-02-26 12:04 pm
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WEEK 6.
With the deaths of Viktor Nikiforov, Varric Tethras, and Killia, you're down to half of your original number. There's only fifteen of you left. How much longer before your number drops again? 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... Of course, that doesn't mean that you've gained nothing else among the many, many losses you've faced; it seems that another floor has been made available to you for surviving another week. Congratulations and well done, even if you might not necessarily appreciate the reward. |
SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week six 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!]
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Might as well. I don't trust myself to paint a straight line, much less manage this without spilling the bottle somehow.
[He's very jittery. It's like a constant sugar high and might actually be considering how much sugar he consumes here.]
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[ She sighs again scooting over to the desk and therefore next to him. She spreads her fingers out, gently blowing on the nails again. She's...
... Still worried. Still tired. But it feels better today. ]
Gangrel, have you attempted to send any letters to the dead?
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[...]
No, I haven't. I don't know what I'd write. I've never been very good at composing letters.
[Most of his have been taunts and jabs to try to get Ylisse to attack Plegia, but that certainly didn't work out, so.]
Have you?
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I'm trying to work out where they receive ours from - Ushiromiya confirmed to me that it is possible somehow.
[ Which is probably too practical and she knows it. If she were as sentimental as some others, she might've written them even knowing they wouldn't be received. But... She isn't like that. Or at last tells herself she isn't ]
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Incredible. Being able to talk with them again would be...
[Something. Good? Probably good. Killia's death still stings but even before that there was Kimbley and Gold and Alani...]
What would you say, if you could write directly to one of them?
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Honestly, I don't know. I would write to Gold and Chiyuki, and perhaps also once to Kimbley, though I doubt he would read it. But as to what I would say? I don't know what to say.
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[What do you say to someone who died in a place like this? What do you say to someone who died period? That isn't the sort of thing you're supposed to come back from.]
Have any of the others tried writing letters?
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[ She laughs a little ]
Actually, I have Gold's to me right in this room.
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I received a letter from Kimbley. I thought it had to be some kind of joke.
[But he's kept it on him, so maybe he wasn't entirely certain that it was a prank.]
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[ She... actually finds herself glad he had someone to write to, other than Jasper. Despite it all. ]
No, no, I confirmed - the first letter Chiyuki wrote, it was her handwriting. Now we've received more, the prank is too elaborate for someone as dry as Wordsmith to keep up.
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[SO YOU KNOW, NORMAL STUFF.]
I'm glad to hear it isn't a prank, but it's still a bit hard to believe. I've seen a lot of death and it's hard to imagine there being anything after that.
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Your cult, those ones who hold sway over you country, do they believe in a life after death?
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[But with that clarification aside...]
Not precisely. The ones that sacrifice themselves to Grima supposedly become a part of him - they die to become something bigger, to bring about an end to a cruel world. It's not life after death, but it's living on in some form... at least until the world's ended.
[Shrug! The Grimleal are Fucked Up, man.]
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[ She looks at her own nails as she explains this, spreading and closing her fingers. She doesn't know why she's explaining this to Gangrel of all people, but she does need to fill time. ]
Many in Japan, where I now live, believe in reincarnation, that the souls of the dead are repurposed in the bodies of newborn babes, ignorant of their old lives. But in the old country, the land of my birth - their God promised salvation, an eternal paradise in the clouds for those who would obey His precepts, and chain their lives to His commands.
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Well, I never expected that we'd end up with actual ghosts after all those ghost stories!
[Sometimes shitty jokes are just the way to go, apparently.]
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She picks up the nail polish bottle, opening it and dabbing the brush in ]
They're dry enough. Spread out your nails.
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Of course.
[He'll do just that, keeping them as still as he can and watching her curiously.]
...Do you get someone to help you with your off hand?
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[ She says this with some arrogant amusement at the question. As she begins to apply the base coat to his left hand's nails ]
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[He could probably get to A-rank with every single weapon in that time!! Amazing.]
I can't imagine being alive for that long, but I am only human.
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I've every intention of meeting my great grandchildren, you understand.
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Great-grandchildren... I can't even imagine having kids to begin with!
[WHO WOULD EVER TRUST GANGREL TO BE A FATHER, PLEASE DON'T]
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[ And her smile is different now. Soft, gentle. Nostalgic. It's night and day to any expression Gangrel's probably ever seen on her face ]
Those were the happiest times of my life.
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...You've got plenty of time left, you know. Once this is all over, you may be able to reclaim those happy times with your family.
[Does everyone have something like that to go back to?]
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[ And the smile fades as she says this, finishing up on his third nail. That smile - that smile is not something which could be anywhere near her face as she makes this dark promise, if only to herself, ]
one way or another. I need to see them all once more.
[ Even if ... it won't be the same. James is dead. And Karin- ]
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[Whether it's at the top of a pile of bodies or through sheer determination and the Wordsmith's corpse, she'll manage somehow.]
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