Week 3

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Well, someone took the bait last week, and now two people (if either of them could really be called a person) are dead. Not only that, it seems like your first host is now out of commission and replaced by someone who claims to be The Phantom. While he may not be incredibly worse than Facilier yet, it would be a stretch to say he's an improvement.

But, things aren't all bad! When the guests wake up on Sunday, they will find the stairs in the foyer are now open, leading to a whole new floor to explore!

And there's booze so no one will have to drink vinegar anymore.

28 guests remain]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

[OOC: and don't forget to fill out this week's activity check!]

Comments

[athleticallyinclined]

[ Gaston's quickly become enamored of the slot machine in the casino. He doesn't really understand "winning" and "losing" as it applies to the machine, perhaps because he's never really applied the concept of "losing" to himself at all.

All he knows is that he enjoys sliding coins into the slot, pulling the lever, and - occasionally - getting something in return.

This week, it's a good haul. Sure, the doll is a little creepy, and not something he has any use for - a child's plaything, and a girl's, at that. But for some reason he finds himself instantly enamored of the beer stein and its tiny picture, and the oddly sweet, cold drink inside.

The strange little rectangle is yet another mystery, among so many here, and he finds himself sitting in the dining room, plastic stein full of foamy apple-cinnamon goodness at his elbow, frowning vaguely at the thing as he turns it over and, occasionally, raises it to his ear and shakes it. Just in case. ]

[tanukey]

[Gaston's not the only one who's gotten stuff out of the slot machine lately. Yesterday he received a platter of spinach puffs, and after a day of deliberation has decided to donate them to the communal dining experience as anonymously as possible. Nothing poisoned has come out of the machine yet, but he's still not going to risk it.]

[Just everyone else. Obviously.]

[He slides the plate onto the table and is about to leave without comment, but then he notices the cassette tape in Gaston's hand.]

Where the hell'd you get that?

[athleticallyinclined]

[ Gaston looks up, and something in Rocket's voice makes him frown and hold the rectangle a little closer, possessively. ]

Why do you care?

[tanukey]

[The smart thing to do would be to feign innocent curiosity, pretend like the tape wasn't anything important, make it seem like taking it off Gaston' s hands would be doing him a favor.]

...why do YOU care? You even know what that is?

[Rocket is currently too cantankerous to be smart about it.]

[athleticallyinclined]

[ Let's face it, neither of them is going to have a strategy here. ]

Of course I do!

[ He raises his eyebrows, and holds the thing up for Rocket to see. ]

It's mine.

[tanukey]

Oh, brilliant. I can definitely see why so many defer to your genius.

["No u" is a time-honored tradition, excuse you.]

Admit it, you've got no idea what it does.

[athleticallyinclined]

[ Gaston scoffs disbelievingly, even as he smirks in response to the (clearly sincere) compliment. ]

And I suppose you do?

[tanukey]

Since I'm not from some bass-ackwards part of an already backwater planet then yes, I do.

[athleticallyinclined]

[ He considers this, then turns up his nose. ]

I don't believe you.

[tanukey]

That's because you're even dumber than you look. Which I frankly did not think was even possible, so bra-vo.

[athleticallyinclined]

[ He's bluffing. Gaston knows it when he sees it. He leans back in his chair, prepared to enjoy himself. ]

If you did know, you'd already have explained it by now.

[tanukey]

I'm a mercenary, Noodles. I don't do jack for free, especially not for vinegar-chugging hicks.

[athleticallyinclined]

Or...

[ Now he leans forward, pointing accusingly. You can't fool him, badger. ]

...You don't know.

[tanukey]

Or-

[He takes a second to physically haul himself up on the table. He's not getting talked down to in two senses at the same time.]

YOU'RE just afraid to put your money where your mouth is, meathead.

[athleticallyinclined]

[ Shit the badger's on the table

He leans back, a little alarmed, but doesn't retreat. ]

You realize there's nothing to buy here.

[tanukey]

Yeah, and? Just means you'll have to use a little imagination. I know that's probably a foreign concept to you.

[He folds his arms, growling.]

So lemme ask you again, NOODLES. Are. You. Willing. To bet on it.

[athleticallyinclined]

[ Slowly, Gaston stands, so he once again towers over Rocket. ]

My name is Gaston.

[tanukey]

Oh, sorry, is that a sore spot, Noodles?

[Standing up. Well played, Gaston.]

How's about we make that part of the stakes, then? If I'm full of it, I'll call you gassy or whatever the hell you want, no argument.

[athleticallyinclined]

Gaston.

[ God it's like he's easy to rile up or something?? He glares hatefully at Rocket. ]

And when I prove you wrong, I get to hunt you for sport.

[ that's a fair trade right ]

[tanukey]

[Rocket snorts.]

You get to TRY, you mean.

[He is... more than likely underestimating Gaston's chances, given the terrain.]

And when I'M proven right, I get that-

[He points at the cassette tape.]

And... you drink an entire glass of vinegar. In front of as many of us as possible.

[athleticallyinclined]

[ Always with the vinegar. Gaston rolls his eyes. ]

You're not a very imaginative lot, are you?

You have a deal.

[tanukey]

If you want, you could have to do everything Beast tells you for a day instead. That imaginative enough for ya?

[Don't mess with the classics, Gaston.]

[athleticallyinclined]

[ He sneers, making a noise of contempt. ]

The creature wouldn't know what to do with the chance.