( DEPARTURE )

[abhoth]

SURVIVORS: 42 At 6:00 PM on the dot, everyone who has died during the ritual will awaken in their respective beds. Whole and unscathed, it would be far too easy to say that everything has been nothing but a fever dream. But the truth, as always, is far different from what the heart yearns for. For the first time in five weeks, night falls over the City of Yuggoth. The sun no longer hangs over your heads, its presence dark and oppressing. Instead, a soft, blue light shines down from the sky. It's not quite the moon, no. The Unclean's avatar is still visible in the sky, after all. But it's comforting. It's the promise of new beginnings, of newly forged bonds, and pacts that neither heaven nor hell are capable of tearing down. Does this singular moment in time make everything they've been through worth it? No, probably not. But this is the end. Their journey is over. Now it's time for forty-one (41) individuals to choose their destination, while one (1) is left behind. The unmarked room between the Kitchen (still wrecked — thanks, Tsurugi) and Laundry room is now open. Faceless men will be giving away baseball caps, pens, keychains and all the splendor of Yuggoth, as well as glossy photos taken throughout the ritual... for most, it will be a photo of their dead body and the manner in which they died. Yikes. A toy machine has also been left here, with a sign that reads TELEGRAM FUND: DEPOSIT YOUR CLUE TOKENS SO EVERYONE CAN CONTACT THEIR FRIENDS. THIS DOES NOT INCLUDE ANDERSEN, SO DON'T ASK. - ABIGAIL. Manning the Curio Shop won't be the only duties the faceless men have been relegated to, however. They'll be hunting down everyone but the new facilitator in order to give them a bus ticket. The destination and time of departure will be blank upon initially receiving it, but as soon as one thinks of where they want to go? Both fields will be filled in, and will be adjusted accordingly if anyone has a last minute change of heart. It seems like, in the end, it's up to the residents to decide whether to return home or to catch a ride with one of their new friends. Starting from 6:00 AM on Tuesday morning (a fact only discernible thanks to the Grandfather clocks, as the sun refuses to rise again), double decker buses will roll by the motel to pick residents up. There will be several buses, each one remaining at the entrance for fifteen minutes and the next one arriving after an hour long interval. Bus tickets will refuse to change after the first bus has arrived, so try not to be too indecisive lest you wish to remain in this realm or strike a deal with the Unclean. On the bright side, there are at least two to four days before everyone has returned home. May as well get those final goodbyes over with, right? It's a wrap, everyone! Thank you for the wild ride, and don't forget to check out the Love Meme and TL;CR Meme. You can use this post to thread out those last goodbyes. ( quick navigation ) ic rulebook | locations | statuses | room assignments private conversations | ic profiles | graveyard | full navigation

Comments

[disinterested]

[Girge lets out a heh under his breath as he likewise watches the others. He knows he should join them soon; it's strange, though, to think of himself as something similar to them. He'd never really fit in throughout his life, as either "General Baldr's son" or as the convict.]

... I thought you preferred tragedies?

[disinterested]

[Well, that's... something.

When Girge looks at him, he pauses, and—]

... Are you embarrassed?

[Girge shouldn't judge, when he wants to throw himself off a cliff every time he has feelings, but.]

[1/2]

[disinterested]

I can't. You got into mine, so it's only fair I get into yours, isn't it?

[He's not sure if he'll ever really understand (especially since he doesn't freaking know flower language), but...]

[disinterested]

[Well, as fun as it is to tease Andersen, this isn't quite the note he wants to part on. Back home, maybe, but that was when resignation still clung to him like a second skin. (Ah. He really has changed, hasn't he? It's almost amusing.)

Two words. He can say that much, right?

It's Girge's turn to be awkward now, as he looks away. He takes in a quiet breath. Then, finally, he speaks.]

... I'm sorry.

[It's what he's wanted to say to his father for a while now. If he's going to learn how to apologize, he might as well start with this.]

[disinterested]

Oh, no. I refuse to apologize for that.

[And it'd be so easy to fall back to that, but he reminds himself that he can't continue to run away. It was his ruin one; not again.]

... I won't say I'm happy with what you did that week, as I don't think I ever really will be. [...] But I wasn't exactly thinking, "You know, I hope Andersen gets damned with eternal life in this place" either.

[He was the one who told the Hunters about the caveat to begin with. Maybe, one way or another, Andersen would have been the one to take the deal. Maybe he wouldn't have. There's no way to know now.

But Girge knows that he himself could have taken it, if it weren't for the fact that eternity would be torture for him.]

[disinterested]

...

[None of it particularly makes Girge feel better about all this—because it's not a "good" ending, is it? not for all of them—at the same time that he knows nothing he says will matter.

And so, with his free hand not holding onto Andersen's gift (though he still can't tell what Andersen is repaying him for), he handles this how a functional human being who knows how to deal with emotions would.




He shoves Andersen.]

[disinterested]

[Dimly, it occurs to Girge that this is probably not how he should try communicating with his father.]

That's a loaded question, Andersen.

[He smiles wryly, extending his hand to him.]

[disinterested]

[And then Girge slams Andersen to the ground.



No, just kidding, he pulls him up.]

No. [Yes, kind of.] I just felt like doing that.

[He glances at the book he holds. He has nothing to give Andersen in return, beyond a typewriter that turned out to be useless, but...]

[disinterested]

[Yep, shoving Andersen again. :/]

I can't believe you, of all people, are saying that.

[disinterested]

[Kicking him in an attempt to trip him up... though at least he's not putting much effort into this.]

In case you've forgotten, I've had to revise my opinion of you several times this past week. [Just. Pointing that out. (He's still a little bitter.)] I hold no expectations other than that you're a rambling moron.

[disinterested]

No, because whatever they have to say would be even more annoying.

[At least Andersen's an asshole, except for when he's not.

... And there's something Girge needs to say to him, though he's procrastinating on it, especially what with Andersen making him feel awkward every time he gets serious??]

[disinterested]

[No, the masochist is definitely you, Andersen.

Girge's quiet for a while, likewise watching the others, but he's not quite willing to jump right into what he wants to say, and so instead he starts off with something simpler.]

... Going to miss any of them?

[disinterested]

...

[Girge pauses, making a bit of a face, as he figures out how to say this.]

Well, some of these idiots are probably going to bother me anyway, but aside from that... I suppose there's one.