Week 8

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Thanks to Freddie, it seems as though you’ve dealt your first, honest blow to Randall. Truly a fitting end to the Randall Rech Zone. Sadly, you’re still stuck here, but something inside you is nagging at you to keep your head up. This late in the game, nobody has to be willing to resort to murder.

...Right?

12 people remain]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

Comments

[stanbyme]

[Underneath all his whiskers, his cheek twitches in what might be a smile when she leans up to kiss his cheek. But even though he nuzzles into the contact, slips his arm around her shoulders, he sounds like he's worlds away when he muses:]

I spent thirty years trying to fix one mistake. Never once thought I might've been chasing a ghost, I always thought I would've just...known.

I never realized how lucky I was that I didn't get him killed.

[hasit]

But you didn't. That's the important part, right? Your brother is alive, he's...working to get us out of here. All of them are.

[She settles against his side, staring straight ahead at the bar top.]

You'll see him again. And your nephew, too.

[stanbyme]

[The sound he makes isn't quite a laugh.]

Stings my pride a little just having to sit here and wait for my nerd brother to come rescue us. Bet he ain't used to it being this way around.

[hi ford he knows you can hear him you damsel in distress motherfucker]

[hasit]

[She, however, does chuckle.]

I take it you're usually the one saving his behind?

[stanbyme]

Since we were kids. I used to beat up the bullies who gave us a hard time. Broke so many pairs of glasses getting into fights that our pop stopped buying me new ones.

[hasit]

[It's a cute mental image, that's for certain. She nudges him, hoping she can keep him talking and keep him from taking another downturn.]

No wonder your eyesight's so terrible. I can picture it perfectly, though. A little scrapper.

[stanbyme]

[He wobbles a little bit, tightening his grip on her with one arm to steady himself, the other hand splaying out on the bartop.]

Ford was always the brains of the operation. I had the... [He waves his hand, trying to find the right word.] The other thing. Punching.

[Nailed it.]

[hasit]

[She grips his arm where it rests around her shoulder, trying to steady him; it seems he's a little drunker than she thought.]

The brawn. But you're no slouch, Stanley. It takes smarts to run a con, and from what you've told me, you've done that plenty.

[stanbyme]

[He's fine. It's fine. He nuzzles her a little when she braces him.]

I figured out how to fix Ford's stupid machine, too. Didn't graduate high school, but I learned all that physics and math just so I could get him back.

[hasit]

See? You're proving my point.

[She chuckles.]

If it makes you feel any better, I didn't finish school, either. I was...expelled.

[stanbyme]

You? No kidding. Sounds like you were a real troublemaker too.

[hasit]

[She nods, looking mischievous.]

I was seven. I reprogrammed the Collegium's mainframe with Rebel propaganda and played the forbidden anthem of the Old Republic over the loudspeaker. They didn't take very kindly to that. After that, I just had my tutors, but they were boring as sin.

[stanbyme]

Seven.

[He sounds impressed.]

I 'preciate a rebel with a cause.

[hasit]

I've always been one. If nothing else, it set me on the path I'm still on today.