Week 6.

[trustharder]

WEEK 6 The number of Survivors left is dropping at a quick pace; the King got what he wanted, for better or for worse; Tarrlok and Lynne were victims of both fate and some sort of magic that most in the Vault still don't quite understand, and Misa Amane has been executed, not for her particular brand of "justice", but for murdering two innocent people. It's been a bad week. However, 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 sixth floor. Go ahead and explore as much as you like; you've done well. You've earned it. SURVIVORS REMAINING: 14

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!]

Comments

[cherryblooded]

[Cherryblod follows a short distance behind, silent.

What we've learned today is: do not talk to Bruce about dreams. Just don't.]

[amygdalae]

[It's certainly... a lesson alright. And really, its nobody's fault at all--well, nobody except his own. He's always been the problem, not the solution.

For better or for worse they manage to get all the way to the first floor and then to the kitchen without any more issues. Although once they arrive Bruce makes an instant beeline to where the stuff for the tea is without really giving a second thought to Cherryblod being around too.]

[cherryblooded]

Let me put some water on for you.

[Or at least do something. Bruce seems as badly off as he is right now.]

[amygdalae]

[When Cherryblod speaks Bruce jumps a little, as if entirely forgetting that he was the one who asked Cherryblod to join.]

Oh--right. Sure.

[He tries to take a box of tea out but absolutely fails, and the box kind of hits him in the face before it falls to the ground to with a soft 'thump'.]

[cherryblooded]

[...Wow, that's exceptionally bad. Cherryblod stoops to pick up his box for him and sets it back on the counter.]

Actually, why don't you sit down?

[amygdalae]

--okay.

[That's it. Just 'okay'. Yep.

...nevermind the fact that it sounds horribly shaky.

He sort of... manages to wander over to a chair and slowly settles down, his gaze sort of on the floor but its pretty damn clear he's not staring at the floor at all.]

[cherryblooded]

[That's fine. Just let him take care of all this tea business, and maybe try to get Bruce's mind off of things.]

What do you think of the new floor?

[amygdalae]

[It takes a good minute or two before it registers to him that Cherryblod is actually speaking, and Bruce's head jerks up to look at Cherryblod.]

It's--fine.

[..............yeah that's totally not an answer.]

[cherryblooded]

Personally, I can't make heads or tails of the science room. Think you'd have more luck than me there.

[Just keep talking. Maybe it'll get him out of his head eventually.]

[amygdalae]

[Science... haha. That should be a comfort but right now he's too deep in his head for it to help. Because science reminds him of Tony which reminds him of Ultron which reminds him of that witch and then--

--and then--]

Yeah.

[...still not here, yep.]

[cherryblooded]

[No luck, huh.]

What about the workshop? Not very good with my hands, myself, but at least it's another thing to do. Not sure there's enough wood there to make anything useful.

[amygdalae]

[Talking about the workshop... sort of helps, if only in the sense that there's nothing to link it to his thoughts, although its barely any progress at all.]

I haven't... [Looked at it yet he wants to say, but his mind just sort of... trails off once again.]

[cherryblooded]

Haven't checked it out? Would you like to look together once we're done with our tea?

[Some progress is better than no progress.]

[amygdalae]

...okay.

[Yeah that sounds... good. Maybe. Something to keep his mind focused on anything else besides that goddamned dream.]

[cherryblooded]

That's good. We might find something out that way.

Your tea's ready.

[He'll pour Bruce a cup and set it in front of him, then pour himself one.]

[amygdalae]

[Bruce manages to move his gaze over to the tea when Cherryblod sets it down - he reaches for it and starts to pick it up, but puts its back down just as quickly when he feels his hands trembling.]

...I'm sorry.

[Bruce doesn't even know what he's apologizing for, but he feels he needs to say it, anyway.]

[cherryblooded]

Nothing to be sorry for. You should wait for it to cool anyway.

[He'd have to be a terrible kind of person to blame Bruce for whatever's going on in his head right now.]

[amygdalae]

[There are always a lot of things that go on in Bruce's head. But today there's just a lot more of... bad stuff.

(Everyone screaming, running, Tony's voice trying to break through the red haze in his mind--

"You're Bruce Banner!")

Bruce takes in a shuddering breath and tries to stop his trembling.]

[cherryblooded]

[He notices. He can't not.]

...Bruce, talk to me. Not about - whatever you're thinking of, just talk to me.

[amygdalae]

I--

[(Looking out from the quinjet, looking at two figures in the distance, one of them suddenly coming in so close, so fast--

Her hands, cold and icy, fingertips pressed against his temples as her eyes turned red and so did his world.)

He moves his hand, not really sure what he wanted to do - rub his cheek, scratch an itch, gesture, something - but he knocks against the teacup instead and it spills, hot tea splashing onto him, making him flinch and jerk away. It's probably a good thing the jumpsuits have long sleeves because otherwise he would have gotten some burns.]

[cherryblooded]

[Or don't, that's okay too. Cherryblod hurries to get some napkins and begins to wipe up the spill for him.

This does mean he's going to get a shrimp fussing over him with napkins.]

[amygdalae]

[It's okay Cherryblod, Bruce isn't... really noticing that much. Well he knows its happening, but--]

Sorry, I-- [Sorry, sorry, sorry. That's all he can say, can do. Everything he does is an apology; he's shaped his fucking life into an apology. But it won't be enough. It'll never be enough.

His breathing quickens a little as Bruce struggles to just not lose it right there and then. It's a dream, it should be just a dream but he's had the doubts and the proof is telling him otherwise but he doesn't want to believe but what if, what if.]

[cherryblooded]

Shh. Shhh. There's nothing you have to be sorry to me for.

[Just going to finish cleaning him up as best as he can.]

You should probably wash these soon if you don't want them to stain.

[amygdalae]

--okay.

[Bruce feels like a child, like he's ten and lost and still trying so hard to understand why everything around him was happening the way it was. It's all he can do to just keep Cherryblod's words in mind as he clumsily gets out of the chair he's sitting on, staring at the stains on his jumpsuit and looking totally lost on what to do with them.]

[cherryblooded]

Do you need my help with that?

[He's kind of worried about leaving Bruce alone at the moment, for any reason.]