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( MINGLE - WEEK 3 )
 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 doesn't seem like there's anything out of the ordinary on this lovely Monday morning. How quaint. As a reminder, we are now accepting murder proposals for Week 3! If you're interested in having your character commit a murder this week, be sure to send in your proposal before Tuesday, 9:00 PM EST. Without any murders we can't have a murdergame, so go forth and let the bodies hit the floor! As always, feel free to PM us or send us a PP over plurk if you have any questions! ic rulebook | locations | statuses | room assignments private conversations | ic profiles | graveyard | full navigation |
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[Dirk's voice is loud and calm.]
He can't die. It has to be Just or Heroic. This was stupid. He'll revive.
[Loud and calm and clear, with the edge of someone who can't bear to be anything but. Dirk pushes past everyone and strides upstairs, to the electrical room; he ignores whoever is in there and walks straight over to Dave's body. Nothing else there matters to him. Determined, he kneels down and takes hold of Dave.
And he goes still, seeing him with no shades. He touches his face but they aren't there. His eyes are shut and his shades aren't there. The shades are gone, leaving Dave unmasked and vulnerable and like he didn't want to be. Like Dirk destroyed his chance to be.
Like he's...
And like that, the strings all break under strain. Dirk drops, curls over Dave Strider's body holding onto him. His hands are tight and twisted in the fabric of Dave's shirt, but everything else seems to have lost its strength. His own shades slip off his face and fall across Dave's chest with drops of water. He doesn't say anything at all.
Someone better pry him away from that corpse because otherwise he's staying. There's a gutted monster corpse right there? Make him leave.]
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[ but she just lets him heads upstairs, though she's trying to dig in her pocket for dave's shades as dirk leaves. she guesses she will. wait until later. since she doesn't want to disturb him or return to the... crime scene. :c ]
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Still despite her anger, seeing Dirk huddled over Dave's body is far too familiar. She doesn't need to imagine what he's feeling because it's something she knows well. Velvet's not going to pry him away for now.]
I'm sorry. Is... is it alright if I see him? I can leave, if you want.
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[But he can't make himself shift away. He still holds on, still clings tight to his body. Like somehow it would matter.
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[She walks closer and kneels down.]
He was fighting til the end, huh?
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Dirk doesn't care. It's one stupid monster. The death of all the monsters in this world wouldn't be worth Dave's life.]
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[She considers giving him like a helpful pat, but that would be more weird than anything so she'll stick to doing what she does best.]
I won't rest until I do.
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[It's calming, almost comforting to hear. He failed Dave. Dave was killed and it's his fault and nothing will undo it.
But at least he can wreck this place.]
We'll kill them all and destroy their damned game.
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But the first thing you need to do is survive. Can you do that?
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[She smiles slightly at his resolve.]
We should move his body, though. Whenever you're ready.
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[Smug daemon stuff aside...]
They probably don't care as much... considering it wasn't part of the "game".
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[AND YET APPARENTLY THE MODS THEY WILL TAKE THE CORPSE!! and if Velvet and Dirk try to follow or stop them their feet will feel like fucking cement???
rude
and also: motivation for punching faceless men more]
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[She is foolishly trying to fight this feeling of cement. And proceeding to fall over. And try to crawl her way out. Velvet's not so great at giving up.]
We will stop you! [They're already gone and she's on the floor, just yelling.] No matter what it takes! I'll get out of here!
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God. He hates this. All the anger curls back inside of him, resting at the base of his throat. It slips out in the dark readiness of his words.]
We will.