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( MINGLE - WEEK 4 )
 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 buildings surrounding the motel, it seems like the Library is now open. How quaint. As a reminder, we are now accepting murder proposals for Week 4! 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. Remember that we can't have a murdergame without any murders, 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 |
no subject
Well, that one's a creature card, apparently. That much is written on it; I think I use these to attack my opponent.
[He reaches across the table, palm upwards, wanting to see one of her cards.] May I look at one of yours?
[If she's ignoring his arm, that's a good sign, right? It means that this is all a farce, an illusion, and that strange feeling of movement along his skin and muscle is just... in his head, it has to be. ...Or maybe she can't see it because of his sleeve?]
no subject
[She hands the first card from the top of her deck over to him - the name at the top says "Glaceon," but the image leaves quite a bit to be desired - it's nowhere near as polished as it ought to be.
She takes the creature card he offers her and examines it closely.]
I think that makes sense... it looks like it's meant to be holding a weapon of some kind.
no subject
Ice Shot and Icy Wind. Looks like we'll need a coin if we want to pl-
[He's cut off, though, by the feeling of movement on his arm again. Teeth gnashing, grinding, erupting from his own flesh--
Light drops the card on the table, his other hand coming to wrap around his forearm, pressing down with a force that's painful. His teeth are grit.]
D-dammit...
no subject
[She gasps and leans forward, abandoning the card in order to reach for his arm. He's holding it before she can get close, though, and her hands go still in the air, her eyes wide.]
What's wrong...?
no subject
[Grasping at it does nothing to stop the pain of torn skin and muscle, of bone that seems to have a life of itself as it turns into a maw of sharp teeth. A long vertical row, running down his forearm. It's already grown, and it's only been two days. He pulls his sleeve down in frustration born of pain.
(Naturally, she wouldn't be able to see it. Only Light's arm, marred a bit by the scratches of his own fingernails, but nothing more.)]
Do you... see them?
no subject
(Never might be a strong word, given that this is only the fourth week she's known him, but there you go.)
Yukina knows, of course, that there's something going on. It's why she's steadfastly left her bangs where they rest across her forehead, why she's ignoring the itch, the feeling of fluttering eyelids all across her skin -
But nobody else has noticed it. It's not real, it can't be real. It's what she wants to believe, anyway.]
...I don't see anything at all... only your arm.
no subject
You...
[He wants to say How can you not see them? They're right there. but his rational mind is kicking into overdrive. His thoughts reflect hers, they can't be real. But they hurt.]
...I know. No one else has noticed them. [He straightens, and with visible effort pulls his sleeve down.] But they hurt, Yukina-chan. It's distracting.
no subject
[She likely isn't feeling the same thing he is. The itch on her forehead, the feeling of an eye twitching in its socket, so far from where it ought to be, is distraction enough - but not painful, the way his seems to be.]
Is there... anything that can be done, you think...? [He said teeth. Maybe if he gets them something to eat, it will be enough to appease the beasts in his own mind? ...no, feeding his arm would be silly.]
no subject
He picks up the card he had dropped, brow still knitted out of pain, but his composure is slowly coming back to him, much like a tide returning to shore. He offers it back to her.]
I doubt it. It's just a matter of waiting, like usual.
[He can't imagine what it'll be like later, and it's only Tuesday.]
no subject
It's probably better that way.]
Perhaps, but... [It doesn't seem fair. Nothing seems fair, really, and the sooner she accepts that, the better.] ...well, let's keep playing. [She indicates the cards.] A distraction might help...