Week Five

[stagemanagers]

[Last week, you had your very first minor body pileup! Granted, the Balladeer's death was entirely unrelated to anything, but at least he died as he lived - getting completely fucked up in some kind of carnival-themed hellscape. Only two days later, another terrible accident took Rina and Varian both from you. It's just been one of those weeks, huh? At least you got to add both of their corpses to your weird growing collection!

Again, you'll wake up this morning with another new snippet of memory. You'll also find that the stairs in the lobby are no longer blocked. You can only access one part of the second floor, but it seems like there's some neat stuff up there!

Outside, a few things seem to have changed. For one, the weather has turned - it'll be overcast this week, with periodic rain and even scattered thunderstorms. For another, the bushes around that rock out by the football field have bloomed. That's nice.

Get to it, friends! I'm sure everything will be fine this week!]


Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( Be sure to submit your memory regain and your AC for this week! As always, Hester's office hours and the merch booth remain available. ))

Comments

[brokeforgood]

[Farrah isn’t afraid of the dark. Or storms. But she’s seen enough horror films to be skittish.

So when the power doesn’t return, within a minute—- Farrah screams from the hall by the dorms.

When the rain doesn’t let up after an hour, Farrah might be found near the doors to outside, checking to make sure she doesn’t have any adults around to stop her. And before anyone can stop her— she yeets outside.

She shows back up 30 minutes later, drenched, but with a goat, who she leaves in the gym very responsibly, with lots of comfy towels and a sheet.]

Shhh, it’s okay, Farrah Jr.

[Finally, she can be found in Broadhurst, making shadow puppets against the wall and looking bored. But maybe you’ll hear her complaining—]

Banning the occult… That’s like— I founded Songs For Satan. I cant believe the wizard is discriminating against my religion.

Broadhurst

[mcfife]

[Angus just comes to this dorm every so often now, and he's just lying in bed, watching Farrah's shadow puppets.]

I doubt he's targeting your religion specifically. He hates us having any sort of happiness. [People in his world can communicate with the deceased of they set up the ritual properly. No religious ceremony required.] Unless Satan is all about ghosts?

[brokeforgood]

I don’t think—- maybe? [Farrah has no idea what Satan’s all about. She just likes driving Annleigh up a wall.]

I just know at church, they’re all GRR, NO OCCULT, THATS SATAN’S TOLLBOX!!

[mcfife]

That's just magic. Technowizards can call upon the advice of great generals from years past, nothing to do with religion.

...

I thought magic did not exist in your universe?

[brokeforgood]

It doesn’t. Not exactly. It depends on which culture you belong to, but—- let’s just say it doesn’t exist, and main group in charge really don’t like it if you try and do anything even vaguely mystic. Unless it’s Jesus.

[mcfife]

Right. The eating of a dead man.

[So...magic exists on a small scale. Just not everyone has access to it.]

[brokeforgood]

[...Farrah has almost completely forgotten that she told Angus that, and she's actually shocked for a few moments. No one's corrected him yet? Well. She can't exactly tell him now, can she?]

Yeah. They're super overprotective of that kind of thing. From... The eating of a dead man.

[mcfife]

[Sissi explained the massive church institution in Europe and no one ever brought up Jesus again. It will be fine.]

I'll check if they have flashlights. I'll be back soon.

Gym

[whatyouwant]

[Oh hey, Elle is also soaking wet from taking her dog out in the storm!]

Farrah are you okay?

[A beat.]

Is that the goat from the animal club?

[brokeforgood]

I’m okay! Hey, no, this is for drying, not for eating—- [Farrah’s currently trying to towel off the goat, who seems intent on just. taking the towel from Farrah each time to chew on it.]

Yeah! I rescued her.

[whatyouwant]

That was sweet of you! Was the poor thing out in that storm?

[Bruiser is cautiously approaching the goat. He does not know what to think of this weird horned dog.]

[brokeforgood]

Yeah, she was-- [She's managed to start drying off the goat by sacrificing a towel to be chewed on, while using a backup towel to towel the good good girl off.]

Whoops, careful Bru-- she's a bitch, she'll headbutt you and yeet you outta here in ten seconds flat. [The goat looks like she'll do it.]

[whatyouwant]

[Bruiser sits down a healthy distance away from the goat and just stares at her, head cocked to the side in puppy confusion.]

What do goats eat? Other than like, grass.

[stagemanagers]

[Hey, Farrah, is it safe to assume the chasing of the mischief goat might bring you near the football field in that 30 minute span?]

[brokeforgood]

[YEAH]

[tailor_made]

[Good because there sure is a familiar-looking someone just hanging out in the middle of a rain storm.

Hester is sitting on the large white grave marker rock on the outskirts of the football field, framed by the two drowning yellow rose bushes. Her shoulders are slumped, her drenched dark hair curtaining her face from view. She doesn't seem bothered by the rain or the thunder, she's just...sitting there. Getting wet.]

[brokeforgood]

[Farrah stops chasing Farrah Jr.

Then she slowly—- much slower than Farrah normally moves—- approaches that familiar figure, and sets a hand on her shoulder.]

H?

[tailor_made]

[Hester doesn't startle when Farrah touches her. She's still for a long second before she seemingly snaps out of her stupor, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes and thick streaks of mascara running down her face. Across her middle, her left hand grips her right forearm so tightly there's bound to be marks.]

Farrah-? [Her voice sounds hoarse over the sound of the downpour.]

[brokeforgood]

[She’s soaking wet, and likely already covered in dirt from falling while chasing the naughty goat in question, but Farrah still doesn’t look as rough as poor Hester does.

What does the wizard have against waterproof makeup?

Farrah kneels beside her in the rain. Hester’s voice sounds like Farrah’s own had on Sunday, after she screamed in the showers until she couldn’t anymore. There may still be some weird feelings between Farrah and Hester—- especially after this last week, but Farrah can’t ignore that grief. She moves to touch Hester’s left hand, to try and remind it to let go.]

Hey. Whatcha doin?

[tailor_made]

[Her tense hand relaxes instantly, sliding bonelessly down to touch the rock. She sniffs with an undignified snort of trying to keep her nose from running before she can answer.]

I...I don't know. I remember looking out the window to check on the storm. I saw the roses and I thought about how I hadn't seen them here before, if someone planted them.

The next thing I knew I was sitting here and I-I- [She swallows, looking at Farrah with fresh tears starting to well in her eyes again. She looks absolutely terrified.] Farrah, I don't remember coming outside. I don't know how long I've been out here, or why it feels like someone just ripped my heart out and stomped on it.

Broadhurst

[sugarlumps]

What's a sa-tine?

[She was passing by and overheard, that's a plausible excuse for a tag-in right.]

[brokeforgood]

No. Satan, like-- [She changes her little flashlight puppet to have horns.]

The devil.

[sugarlumps]

Oooh, like a beelzebub, got it.

[sweet shadow puppetry]

So you're in a band with a bunch of demons and junk?

[brokeforgood]

No, it's actually just me. My step-sister made a group called Chords for Christ, and I thought it'd be funny if I made a matching group, but the opposite. Just to. Really show her how seriously I took it.

[sugarlumps]

Ha, nice.

[what's a christ]

After we get out of here you should come visit Ooo if-

[wait, hm]

Nevermind. I could bring a CD of Marceline's music, she's cool. Or was, anyway. But her music's cool.