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

[comeandfindme]

[ It's all been empty condolences. Vigils where people expressed their sadness and then went on with their day. Times when they asked her, then...to move on.

There's something different in this. Some kind of common ground that Peregrine didn't really find in Whitetail. ]

...It is. [ Peregrine finds herself glancing at the various memorial benches. At the mound where Rina and Varian are buried. The world keeps going on, even if they're all dead. All gone.

...No. No, they're not quite gone. Not like Jacob is. ]

[barberic]

[Benjamin's gaze falls to the graves, as well. The ones he broke his back to dig, because it was the right thing to do. He barely even registers the ache in his back that lingers even now, the memory of fifteen years of backbreaking labor enough to dull it.

He doesn't offer more platitudes, about how we carry our dead inside us, or they watch over us through our actions, or anything like that. His Lucy is just as dead as Peregrine's brother, and he hasn't felt anything but empty about it.

Instead, he just offers her a moment of soft, companionable quiet, in the utter stillness of this green little grotto.]