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

[goodforsomething]

Yeah? It ain't that hard, just watch your fingers. My niece loves makin' little things like that...is that one'a those Keyblades?

[prismbloom]

I don't think you've told me about your niece.

[ But he sounds like he really loves her a lot, the way he's talking about her. ]

It is--it's called "The Master's Keeper."

It's much bigger than this in reality, though.

[goodforsomething]

It'd be a pretty crappy sword if it wasn't.

[He pulls up a seat across from her.]

Her name's Mabel. She loves all this art crap - pretty sure I've still got glitter in my clothes. [Even this prison-orange jumpsuit. That would actually be an improvement.]

[prismbloom]

[ With steady hands, she carefully starts to paint the miniature Keyblade. ]

Let me guess--her favorite thing to play with is glitter, and you've been the unfortunate victim of a glitter bomb?

[goodforsomething]

Only five or six. You'd think I'd quit buyin' her the glitter.

[He picks up a little pad and starts idly sketching on it as he speaks.]

[prismbloom]

Did she give you those sad eyes if you ever threatened to stop?

[goodforsomething]

God, yes. Even breaks out the wobbly lip sometimes. It's a killer.

[prismbloom]

My friend Ventus tends to do that, too. But it usually concerns too many sweets.

[goodforsomething]

Ha! She can eat as many sweets as she wants for all I care. I'm an uncle, we're supposed to be fun!

[prismbloom]

Aren't you worried about cavities or stomach aches?

[goodforsomething]

It's just the summer. She can't screw her teeth up that bad.

[prismbloom]

She can if she eats it morning, noon, and night.

[goodforsomething]

Ah, she's fiiiiiiine. She eats real food too!

[prismbloom]

Does she have a balanced diet, at least?

[goodforsomething]

Sure! I've been cookin' for myself for thirty years!

[ehhhhhhhhh]

[prismbloom]

[ somehow she doesn't believe you ]

What sort of things do you feed her?

[ She's awfully worried for a kid she doesn't even know. ]

[goodforsomething]

Y'know...pasta, Stancakes, sandwiches. Simple stuff!

[prismbloom]

--Stancakes?

[goodforsomething]

Pancakes! From Stan!

[prismbloom]

I see! You'll have to make some for us, some time. I'm sure they're delicious.

[goodforsomething]

Sure, maybe I will sometime!

[prismbloom]

I'll look forward to them--as long as you don't get too creative with ingredients.