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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 |
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If we can get through three weeks of murder, I feel like we can handle a little stink.
[although he makes a face as he catches a whiff of that rot, and. blech]
There has to be something useful in here, right?
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Hopefully there is. It would be quite odd if there wasn't, considering how many books are in here.
[ Knoll already has a feeling he'll be revisiting this place more than once, though. ]
...But while we're here, can you tell me what you think of those symbols? Did any of them seem familiar to you?
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[for all his knowledge of classic Lovecraft, the symbols don't ring a bell. he shakes his head]
No, they don't. But I imagine they're related to the mythos of H.P. Lovecraft's world. At least, er. That's how it'd be where I come from.
[obviously everything Lovecraftian is very real here]
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I've only heard of this person's name uttered once before. Who was this individual, exactly?
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An author of a particular brand of horror and science fiction. At least, he is back where I come from.
Craftly gets kinda irritated when I mention him, 'cause he says H.P. Lovecraft took inspiration from this realm, instead of making it all up on his own.
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Such an author doesn't exist from my home-- as far as I know, at least. But, I suppose it's nice to know a little more about this person, even if I wouldn't know why anyone would find anything 'inspiring' about this dimension at all.
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Honestly? Being familiar with him hasn't helped at all. S'just made some things a li'l less. . . I dunno.
Surprising, I guess.
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[ Sure, he's experienced dead things rising up and seeing creepy creatures or whatever when the Demon King was involved, but...some of the things here... well.
He could've certainly gone without. ]
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[and the things that exist here SHOULD NOT exist anywhere, jfc]
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Though, there are moments here that has likely made more than a few number of people question if any of this was actually real.
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I don't know if I wish this was all one massive hallucination or not.
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[ He knows it'd mean innocent people weren't actually dying, even if it'd likely mean some type of other serious issue was going on. ]
So, I suppose there'd be one benefit.
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[and honestly, despite what he says, he knows that's the preferable option]
I just don't like the idea of my mind bein' messed with so much, y'know?
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It is one of the few things we still have. Alongside our body, our soul...and whatever tenuous bonds we may make with each other...
[ His words trail off for a moment, and he holds back a sigh. ]
Naturally, I feel the same as you do.
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I guess if I had to pick, I'd choose to have my body destroyed over my mind.
[he shrugs. that may sound weird, since where he comes from the mind is destroyed with the body, but. that doesn't seem to be the case for this world]
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I've seen enough of what happens when people lose their mind to not want to experience such a thing. It would take a miracle to restore what was lost...and the only thing more difficult than that would be attempting to bring someone back to life.
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'M sorry, then, that people you know had to go through that.
I feel like this place is taking a toll on us mentally and physically, which kinda sucks.
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Our captors are doing their job well, in their attempt in driving us to our deaths or to madness. There is meaning in our struggle, of course, but for all our efforts, they still manage to cover our future in the same darkness that is ever present in this place. However, we've decided to press on--even if in front of us is a labyrinth, covered in that same shroud.
Kaito, you once told me that you would end this game, with such conviction, that I couldn't even fathom matching it. Can you humor me a little and tell me... if that shroud faded before your very eyes, but for a moment...
...And you saw a future in which you were told that 'could not be changed', but was 'unacceptable'. Would you still fight it? What would give you the strength to persevere, if your efforts seemed to continuously be for naught?
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Yeah.
I would.
'Cause to me, holding onto that conviction is proof that my mind hasn't broken.
[and he refuses to break, to shatter, to bend or crack. no matter what sort of pressure he might be feeling from the outside]
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Hmm...I don't think many would have answered the same as you did, and I'm sure that whatever comes, you'll be able to face it.
[ ... ]
Still, we'll need that amount of conviction...if we want our efforts to come to fruition.
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Having that conviction is half the battle, y'know.
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And I suppose a good portion of it is also successfully finding those elusive answers.
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Though, heh. Sometimes s'pretty hard to know where to look for 'em.
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[ He takes pause, thinking of something. ]
...What do you think of those paintings hanging up on the wall? Quite odd looking, aren't they?
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[he swivels around to face those, frowning]
I looked underneath 'em when I first entered the library. There isn't anything odd about 'em except the appearance.