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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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[He can't fight off the hug. He stiffens under it, stills. Doesn't know what to do. But it's so well-meant that he can't push it away.
He wants his brother back.
Dirk shuts his eyes tight behind his shades.]
You know, kid, you are probably at least 50% messed up.
[He means it in a positive way. Probably?]
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[She takes it as a compliment, apparently]
[Squeezes him, not at all deterred by the stiffening]
I get it. I'd go crazy if Dipper died. Even when I thought he wasn't coming home with me... I lost it. [And kinda caused the apocalypse, whoopsies] No one should have to lose their brother.
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He can't speak or it will break. And he can't break.]
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[Pat, pat]
I'm here for you, okay? Whatever you need.
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I'm fine.
[Clearly fine with how he's barely breathing.]
Got to get another sticker this week.
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[Digs in her pocket and puts a "Friends Furever" (complete with cat and dog hugging) sticker on his cheek. Gently.]
That's you and me!
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He clings to Mabel and buries his face in her hair. Because she put a sticker on his face and he doesn't deserve it. Because she's kind and she loves her brother and one of them or the other will lose each other until they're dead. Because he wants to tear this place apart and he doesn't know how and Dave is dead.
Don't worry Mabel, he isn't crying into your hair! No saltwater shower.
He's just like gripping deadly tight. Sorry. Tell him to loosen it maybe?]
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Ooomf... that's quite a strong grip you have! [sure it's painful, but it's for a good cause???]
Just... gonna.... [Wiggles her arm a little so she can lodge it free enough to pat his head while he's doing that]
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[The headpats continue]
So what kind of pie do you like?
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I don't know. I haven't had pie before here. I've only tried makin' apple.
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[Dirk no]
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[Well. She would know?]
Okay, we'll try a glitter pie.
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That's the best way to eat your feelings!
...Soooo, I've got the glitter... I guess we'll have to start from scratch with the pie, huh?
[since she kinda thREW IT ON THE GROUUUND]
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[Give him a second he. Has to clean that up here. Whoops.]
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Anyway, what we do need? Milk? Crust? Fruit? Sugar?
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which he has the upper arm strength for, but when he offers Mabel her chance she may choose to use the mashing method.]