Week Three

[stagemanagers]

[Last week, some shit went down! Salieri's scene went off without a hitch, but the good mood didn't last. The first motive was a bit of a doozy, and yet it didn't even have anything to do with the eventual accidental death of Mumble Happyfeet! At least Sissi was already pretty much dating Death anyway, right? She's probably fine, wherever she is.

This week, new menus have been posted in the cafeteria. But, more importantly, it seems that other new information has emerged. Everyone wakes on Sunday with some new memories - or are they old ones? - floating around in their heads. Maybe there was something to your discussions of time travel after all. Maybe there was someting to the Wizard's knowledge of the future.

Regardless, you're still stuck in here. At least there's some new places to explore this week. Maybe you'll find something helpful.]

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( Be sure to submit your memory regains and your AC for this week! Hester's office hours and the merch booth also remain available! ))

Comments

[tellthestory]

Oh...sure, okay. I was mostly...looking to figure out who it might belong to...

[Actually maybe he was mostly just interested. But. He flips it back on. Peter Howland goes on:]

All right. Let's say your car out there hits a patch of black ice and you careen off the road into the trunk of a sixty-foot spruce. Your nose is broken from the impact of the airbag and your brain is swelling from a minor concussion. What would you do?

[The interviewer seems uncomfortable with this question! More so as Peter pushes! It's a little morbid.]

[howtheworldwas]

[ This, honestly, bothers Eurydice a lot less. She actually agrees with this Peter -- not having any idea what to do in this situation sounds dangerous. Quietly, on reflex: ]

Splint the nose and cool it with the snow if you have to, make your shelter, drink some water, rest but don't fall asleep.

[tellthestory]

[Well, she's got that a lot better than the interviewer! He sounds completely taken off-guard by the question, and provides some increasingly flustered answers before admitting:

"Sorry...this is...I don't know if you knew, but my parents died in a car accident, similar to that, when I was thirteen."]

Oh, yikes.

[The Balladeer winces. He can't comment one way or another - with the life he's led, how on earth would he know what to do in that situation? But he can understand not being able to think clearly with something like that thrown at you.]

You don't think he did know that, do you?