( MINGLE - WEEK 2 )

[abhoth]

SURVIVORS: 40 The sun is shining, the air conditioner units hum as they always do, and a gentle morning breeze blows against the windows. The scent of pine cones and evergreen follow you wherever you go in the motel, save for the parking lot and outdoor pool. It seems like someone was very generous with the detergent while moping the floors. The two grandfather clocks (one on each floor) will ring with each passing hour, indicating the time of day without fail. With this knowledge — they'll note the motel will continue to be surrounded by fog until 8:00 AM on the dot. It is at that hour that the fog will begin to recede. Not enough to reveal the whole city, but enough to allow residents to explore some of the buildings surrounding the motel. And speaking of the motel, it seems like the Storage room has unlocked itself overnight. How quaint. Welcome to Week 2's mingle, everyone! As of this week, we are now accepting murder proposals. If you're interested in having your character murder someone this week, please send in your proposal before Tuesday, 9:00 PM EST. We'll be contacting you on plurk over the week to finalize the details, or ask for rescheduling if necessary. As always, feel free to PM us or send us a PP over plurk if you have any questions! ( quick navigation ) ic rulebook | locations | statuses | room assignments private conversations | ic profiles | graveyard | full navigation

Comments

[godly]

Monday; outdoor sitting area

[Light’s been keeping to himself after the execution. His expression is distracted and his body language isn’t as straight as it always is, indicative of how he’s just slouched forward, elbows on the table before him, hands running through his hair. He looks tired, or remorseful, or anything that one might expect of someone who had killed an innocent young woman just a day prior—

(Though the truth of the matter is that he’s irritated, more than anything else.)

Only if you draw near will he speak up, asking:]

Are you hearing whispers, too?

Tuesday night; poolside

[He finds himself near the pool again, looking down at the water. It reflects his image back up in uneven waves, and Light frowns. He’s ignoring the whispers in his head, growing louder each day. You should have done better in the trial, they tell him, but he forces them away. They’re not his, these thoughts, and he knows that. Regret? What a laughable notion. Let it claw away at his insides, he’ll just attempt to dismiss them all the same.]

Hey… the water here. [A motion at the pool.] Do you remember when it was murky, earlier? It’s clear again.

Wednesday morning; storage room

[Okay, even Light has to admit that the mannequins are little… disturbing. Perhaps even more so because they don’t seem to have much of place here with everything else.]

What use does a motel have for mannequin torsos? [He says, bending down to pluck one out of the box, ignoring the whispers that still echo in his head. He examines it, but nothing seems out of the ordinary.]

Where’s the rest of its body?

Monday

[vitamin_a]

Yes. It's not so bad right now, but if this is like the itching last week it'll get worse and worse.

[Apollo does look a bit bothered by the whispers]

It's no surprise this is happening, I heard Lovecraft was all about losing one's mind.

[godly]

[Light gives a scoff, though it appears to be lacking in any kind of humor.]

Yes, that's one of the themes. Also the dangers of knowledge and the nihilistic belief that the human existence is fragile, small, and pointless.

[A wave of his hand.]

But right now? The theme is definitely "insanity".

[vitamin_a]

How cheery.

[Lovecraft is an author Apollo has now determined he'll never read. He cringes, a sudden burst of regret passing through his head. Augh...]

No wonder Craftly was so sure there'd be a murder every week. This kind of incentive is almost infallible!

[godly]

[Light casts his gaze off to the side, considering.]

The incentive for it to stop, you mean? You have more faith in the people around you than I if you believe that's the only reason why someone would commit murder.

[But, ah, he has a feeling that's not exactly what Apollo may have meant anyway, so have a lazy shrug of his shoulders.]

What are yours saying? The whispering voices.

[vitamin_a]

I know people have a lot of reasons to kill, but here there aren't that many. There's no money, there's no reason to kill anyone as a revenge -- yet -- and there's no power to be held. Craftly wouldn't let anyone have control over anything if it isn't for murder.

[At least those are all the motivations he has seen to kill someone in the cases he has worked in. Surely there are more complicated motives to kill someone]

...mine are about betraying people, not having believed in them enough. Twice, in fact, one being my former boss and another being an associate I work with. It'd end with them getting sentenced to death penalty. The accusations I built against them were quite severe, after all.

It's not too different from what's going on here, now that I think about it...condemning people to death penalty for murdering someone.

[Apparently the whispers of regret don't care that one of those two times going against his former boss was the right thing to do. Not believing in Athena enough is the one that hurts him more, even if in the end her innocence was proven.

There's also another regret that hits him hard, but he's keeping that one unsaid. He doesn't know Light at all, after all]

monday

[nowyouseeit]

[of course Kaito draws near. slowly, a bit uncertainly, because he doesn't really know Light well enough to offer the proper words of comfort. but who wouldn't be a complete and utter mess after he went through, right? even if his index card had said he was guilty of "murder," and even if Kaito isn't entirely convinced of his innocence]

[but Light speaks before he can ask the standard "are you okay" question, and his mouth shuts with a click as his brows furrow]

Yeah. Not many, but enough that it's kinda eerie.

[a snort]

I'd take the itchiness over the whispers any day.

[godly]

[He's expecting people to come up to him with words of comfort. And while he can appear to graciously accept them, they'll still relatively fall on deaf ears -- Light isn't looking for sympathy, not really. Yes, he's upset about the results of the last trial, but not for the reasons that everyone else might believe.

Still, he looks up at Kaito, lifting a brow.]

...If this is going to a continuous theme [these night terrors, he means], then we're going to have to become much more mentally resilient than anticipated.

[nowyouseeit]

[pfffft. he fakes a scoff]

I'm already resilient. A li'l itchiness and some whispers in my ear aren't gonna affect me.

[he rolls his shoulders back and pulls up a confident grin]

[godly]

That's pretty confident of you.

[He straightens just enough to lean back in his chair, looking tired.]

Are you going to be saying that a couple of days from now, too? Is your focus so ironclad?

[nowyouseeit]

[spoilers: no, he won't be saying this by Thursday. but he can pretend]

A magician's always gotta keep his focus and his poker face.

[he shrugs!]

What about you? Will you be okay?

monday

[perceptions]

[Mira is working in the area for most of the day, but even she steps aside from her table (and her pet project) to take a stretch. She hasn't really been noticing people coming to and from the area, but Light's question catches her attention. Once she realizes he was asking her, she makes a short nod.]

Yeah. Every so often - it's really distracting.

[It isn't real. None of it is. Even so...]

What are yours saying?

[godly]

That I should have done better in the last trial.

[And that, at least, is not a lie. He should have, and the regret lingers, but for different reasons than most might believe.]

Things would have ended up differently then.

[perceptions]

[Her face twists into a grimace, chills running up her body. Right - he was the one to execute Hana after all. That can't be an easy task to do for most anyone.]

I think we all have that on our minds. [She says, clasping her hands together.] Did you see the message in the lounge this morning?

[godly]

[He nods a bit solemnly.]

I did. "Mother told me she was the spy. She had to die." Complete with strange symbol.

I have thoughts about it, but what do you think it means?

[perceptions]

[Mira crosses her arms, more than willing to deviate from a gloomy subject like the voices in everyone's heads.]

Well... a couple things come to mind. My curiosity, aside from the "mother", is more in the second sentence. "She had to die." If I could talk to the person who wrote that, I would ask them why. I mean, if Hana had to die... why not kill her themselves?

[Whether it was the Ghost or not, the fact that she had to die is the most puzzling thing. Why not just do it with their own hands?]

wednesday;

[disinterested]

[It's hard to tell how badly affected Girge is by the whispers, with his expression as passive as ever, as is his tone when he speaks.]

What use does a motel have for a room dedicated to cannibalism? [...] Worried you'll find mannequin legs somewhere?

[godly]

[His response is wry, even as he pushes away another pang of regret, accompanied by whispers in his head. If anything, it just causes his frown to just deepen.]

A "dark room" fits the Lovecraftian theme. This?

[And tossing the torso of the mannequin in his direction. Catch, bro.]

This is just mundane. [Or rather, indicative of the fact that he doesn't find mannequins all that creepy, probably.]

[disinterested]

[Catching?? Thanks for the mannequin, bro. He's smearing his germs all over you if this thing is contaminated.]

I'll admit that I'm unfamiliar with the term "Lovecraftian".

[godly]

[You're welcome, he's just bending down again to look at the rest of what's in the box. Just more torsos. Weird.]

No one's told you about the works of Lovecraft? [Well, even if they have, Light is going to continue.]

It's horror fiction. Themes of beings beyond human comprehension, the fragility of the human mind, especially in its search for knowledge. Fear of the vast unknown. Body horror.

[That sort of thing.]

[disinterested]

[a beat]

Fascinating. So it's a matter of time before we all go insane, then? [...] Maybe the mannequins are meant to represent body horror.

monday

[ungodly]

Yeah, they're mostly telling me to stay the hell away from you.

[ and everyone else. but especially light, the man of the hour. the one she was probably most afraid of right now, even though he had no choice but to do what he did. he was capable of it, and that could be her next. ]

You look like shit. Almost like a real person today.

[ usually he was so put together. ]

[godly]

[He looks at her, eyes narrowing, clearly unimpressed.]

You'd look the same if I you were in my shoes.

[It's true that Light usually doesn't even have a hair out of place. Today, he's little more disheveled -- and while his focus still feels sharp despite the whispers, it doesn't mean that he can't physically be tired.]

Just like I think you would've done the same, if you had been chosen to be executioner. So don't patronize me like you're any better.

[ungodly]

Who said I thought I was better than you?

[ really, she did look the same as him already — unkempt and weary. light was just a convenient person for her to lay her frustrations out on. ]

You've definitely had a change in tone since last week. What're you gonna do if they want you to off someone again? Gonna go through with it like last time?

[ heather knows she's out of line, but the whispers have grown so strong and she felt like her mind was crumbling in on itself. her filter was gone, and all she wanted was to feel something. rudeness was her quickest way to that. ]

[godly]

[Even if Light is feeling particularly amicable, his pride doesn't allow others to attack him for no real reason. He hardly thinks that he's deserved it -- if anything, shouldn't she be feeling sympathetic towards what he was forced to do? He had been banking on it.

And so, irritation flares, and he doesn't consider it unwarranted.]

A change of tone? I had to execute someone. It was torture.

[His fists clench a little.]

What do you expect of me? Maybe you'll be the one having to kill someone next time, and then what? Will you just stand there and await punishment, or will you pull that proverbial trigger too?