Week 4

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Two more people died this week. Two children. And they died because of a freak accident. Despite all your protests, Randall refused to let Jane get away despite being innocent.

But there is a tiny ray of hope now, which comes in the form of the mirror. Now that the mirror is public information, you can see people you care about, even if they are dead and trapped in hell. Not only that, but you now now that someone is trying to save you all from the predicament that you're in. And this time there's a good chance that he won't turn out to be a heartless mass murderer!

Still, the ideas for the plan are vague and you have no idea when you will actually get out. It's hard to keep up hope when your only chance of living might still end with you horribly killed, isn't it?

At least you have a new floor and the ability to wash your clothes now.

26 guests remain.]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

[Don't forget to fill in this week's activity check!

...There might also be someone new threadjacking some toplevels this week too. If you want to opt out of this, just let us know!\

Comments

2/2

[stanbyme]

[MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM]

I mean, uh-

[hasit]

[Leia Organa is a general. A politician. A princess. It's been a very long time since anything's made her blush. But somehow, damn him, Stan Pines manages to make her blush. The color rises to her cheeks before she can even react, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. She pauses in the hallway, turning to face him.]

There was a time I'd have given you a verbal lashing for that.

[Her face tilts upward, inviting.]

Lucky for you, I've mellowed out.

[stanbyme]

[He flushes to his big ol' ears at the flush on her face, turning to face her when she stops. His shoulders rise a little, defensively, but then he reads the upward tilt of her face, the blush on her cheeks, and her next words.]

Whaddya know.

[He extracts his arm from hers so that he can instead slide his hand down to take hers, giving her a sheepish smile.]

So have I.

[He leans down and takes that invitation, kissing her.]

[hasit]

[It's almost funny, how half an hour ago, she'd have given just about anything to shut all that noise up. But now? Her hand in Stan's, his lips meeting hers? She doesn't hear a kriffing thing except for the thudding of her own heart in her chest.

The hand that's not enveloped in Stan's reaches up, up, up to loop around his neck, giving her a little bit more leverage.]

[stanbyme]

[He still has his coffee cup in his hand, but it’s gone cold and mostly empty, and he holds the handle with two fingers so he can slide his arm around her waist when she reaches up to wrap hers around his neck.

He chuckles a quiet breath in the space between their mouths.]

You’re making me feel like a damn teenager.

[hasit]

[She's got her wine glass, still, but luckily she's got a good enough grip on the rim of it that Stan isn't getting a shower while they kiss. Leia lets out a contented sigh into the kiss, and when he pulls back, echoes his laugh.]

I don't see you complaining.

[stanbyme]

I’d have to be a pretty big idiot to complain about something like that.

[He tilts his head so that instead of another kiss, his nose boops lightly against hers.]

[hasit]

[She cocks an eyebrow.]

It takes all sorts.

[Teasing. She's teasing. She moves her nose in an approximation of a Tauntaun kiss, nuzzling his just a little, and then pulls back, looking contemplative.]

You know, there's something I should have told you the other day. Before Mabel came in.

[stanbyme]

[He can’t keep from smiling when she brushes her nose against his. It’s still there at the corners of his lips when she pulls back and he straightens up.]

Yeah? What is it?

[hasit]

I...

[Her hand unwinds from his, moves up to caress his stubbly cheek.]

I care about you, too. Even though...everything in me says that's a terrible idea.

[stanbyme]

[He leans into her touch on his cheek.]

Lucky for you, I can be stubborn enough to make a terrible idea work.

...If you wanna try.

[hasit]

[She thinks on it, but not for long.]

What the hell. If I'm going to die here, I might as well enjoy myself first.

[stanbyme]

Not a bad motto at all.