trusthell | drove to Chicago, all things know, all things know

drove to Chicago, all things know, all things know

[This is getting so routine.

Cherryblod had thought about napping the rest of the day, like he'd said, but there are people to take care of, people who'd been closer to Aiden and Shirazu than he had been. So after about an hour in his room to decompress, he'd headed to the kitchen and started cooking. At some point Stan and Bruce had both joined him.

Almost everyone seems to want to take care of those who are remaining. Almost everyone.

The food this time is mostly soup and sandwiches - nothing fancy, nobody's in the mood to appreciate it - but it's there set up in the dining room by the time everyone (alive) receives notes under their doors. ...He slips an extra one for Sigrun under Mettaton's door, just in case.]

[name],
If you want to spend this time by yourself, that's fine.
If you'd rather have some company, there's food in the dining room, and you're all welcome there.
If you want to take some food and go, that's fine, too.
Take care of yourself.
-Cherryblod, Stan, Bruce

Threaded | Flat

[Cherryblod falls back into his usual role with the ease of someone who's been playing variations on it for more than a hundred years.

After he's judged that there's enough food and tea out for anyone who wants some, he'll be around the dining room area, wandering with a teacup in hand. Seeing anyone new, he'll meander in their direction - not directly, not too fast, trying not to look too worried.]

Can I get you anything?

[Only ten of them now. Ten of them... such a small number. That knowledge weighs on him more than anything else.

He can dwell on that later, though.

His first stop before anything else is at the chapel; there he spends some time putting up Mettaton's picture next to Sigrun's creation before making a spot for Shizaru and Aiden. There's so many of them here now... so many of them dead. It's terrible.

After that he goes off to help Cherryblod and Stan with making the food for the gathering, and when the gathering is in full swing Bruce just mostly sticks in the corners this time to eat his food and generally watch everyone from where he is. Cherryblod is back fussing, after all, and he's sure that nobody else needs another round of that. If there's anybody who looks like they need some company he'll go over, but otherwise he stays where he is and leaves himself open to conversation by others.

Then after the gathering, as they all retire, Bruce lingers for a while outside of his room, just... more or less staring at the rooms around him. It really, really feels like a pretty damn good reflection of his life now.]

[There really are so few of them left.

And good call, Cherryblod, because Mettaton's room is exactly where she buried herself to decompress a little, writing a letter quietly. It's... something she'd been doing, lately, to clear her mind, but this one's more feverishly done.

Not that anyone's gonna see it.

After that, Sigrun joins those who choose to come in the dining room with her lyre, playing a more jovial tune than should rightly be appropriate considering what happened. But some light music should help a mood, shouldn't it?

And yes, she still has the stilettos on for now. She needs to get used to them. They'll be taken off as the affair goes on though.]

[Yosuke doesn't come to the party-

Well, that isn't 100% true, he does zoom in early on, giving a few people a nod as he passes but not stopping to talk as he grabs a sandwich to shove in his mouth. Not stopping to even really eat before he's gone again. His posture and expression likely enough to calm anyone's fears that he's freaking out alone somewhere.

...the brass knuckles gleaning on his fingers might be a warning flag though.

If anyone hunts him down well, they may or may not have a hunt on their hands, considering he went all the way up to the sixth floor, chewing on his food all the way. His maps are laid out in the hall, rooms marked- and depending on when they catch him he can be found running the knuckles along the walls of-- literally every room in the Vault. Occasionally stopping, tilting his head, retapping.

He doesn't have his headphones.

And that's what Yosuke does all night, until he finally goes to bed... after doing his own walls and nooks and crannies as well.]

[ Finishing whatever Shirazu might've been working on is the least Black can do—they'd been in the stuffed animal business together, after all, because Yato had asked them to work together—and it's the main reason he'd gone to his room.

He had expected to come back with a stuffed animal or two; he hadn't expected to come back with a letter along with it.

It's not like he's putting himself at a distance from everyone else this time! He joins the party in the dining room, pulling his heels off the first chance he gets and setting them aside to give his feet some rest. He gets a cup of tea, he sets out some materials to finish up the fox Shirazu'd been working on, he... spreads the letter he found out in front of him and ends up paying it more attention than what he should be working on.

It isn't a letter meant for any of them, but the chances of it reaching Sasaki are slim. Someone might as well read it and keep it in mind for when all of this is over.

(The plea for Haru hits harder every time he reads it instead of just becoming easier.) ]

[Ten out of twenty seven. And somehow, despite all odds, they were still here... he was still here.

It's a small number, and he definitely hopes it won't get any shorter.

For once he wasn't helping with the afterparty, doesn't stop him from showing up to the small gathering though. A sign of support, mostly. He'll try a sandwich, or you might spot him lightly sipping a bowl of soup, his appetite is simply not in this race. He's mostly here to check on everyone else, and his gaze jumps to someone else at the party, every so often.

After that, those that want to see Speedwagon might have to look for his room, where he's retired for a while to... stare at the ceiling mostly. His room's cluttered as usual, but it's an organized mess.

Even later, when most have probably retired to their rooms themselves, Speedwagon's up and out patrolling the halls, checking out most of the rooms on his way up through the vault. Be prepared for startled Speedy if you actually come across him. He's not expecting much tonight.]

[Colress comes in a little later after spending some time alone in his room with his Pokemon, but he doesn't seem to be in a terrible mood or anything when he does plop down with his food. Just a bit solemn is all. It is getting rather empty at these gatherings, after all.

He's reflecting a lot as he pokes at his food, occasionally stopping to write a few notes down. The ones today are about Shirazu and Aiden- notably what went down at the execution. So many talents that only really showed themselves at the trials and down in that pit...

He does have regrets about not getting to know either of them very well. But...maybe that helped him stay focused during the trial in the long run, as awful as it seems.

Still...this really does need to come to an end. They have to do something and try to stick together.]

[Another week, another death. It's almost becoming routine.

Stan's gotten used to a lot of weird shit before. Seems like this shouldn't be one of them, but it's getting there. That's fucked up, isn't it? Once he's done helping out with the food and drink, he finds a table and sits with a glass of whiskey and a sketchbook. No worries - he's not getting too drunk. Not here, anyway; this isn't the time to make other people responsible for getting him back to his room okay.

It looks like he's making a pencil drawing of Aiden, guns blazing. If it were Stan, that's the way he'd want to have his memorial.]

Threaded | Flat

no subject

no subject

no subject