WEEK 3

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Karolina and Mulan are dead. The first, and hopefully the last, deaths of your stay here. Hopefully their deaths won't be in vain. Your third week here starts on a solemn note, and the mood here has taken on a significant downward spiral. If it's any consolation (it isn't), you'll find that you have two new floors to explore...even if one of those floors has about twenty STAY OUT signs nailed to it.

23 guests remain.]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

{ooc: Don't forget to turn in your week 2 AC! As we're now officially in full murdergame mode, AC from here on out is extended till Thursday.}

Comments

[thetimebomb]

[She barely pauses before she rips the dough in half and hands it to Tip.]

Sure thing, knock yourself out.

[And she's back to beating up her dough... she's not exactly in the best mood.]

[pardonmylanguage]

Take that! [She's whispering to herself, although Sylvia might still hear, as she slams the dough down and starts rolling it back and forth roughly. She's not punching it so much as...tormenting it.]

[thetimebomb]

[Well she supposed that's one way to do it.]

You know you don't have to whisper it. It's hardly helpful to hide your anger when you're letting out steam.

[Well, maybe. She's not a therapist.]

[pardonmylanguage]

[She blushes a bit, before shoving the dough again. Then again, she supposes Sylvia wouldn't really judge her, so she yells louder while doing it.]

Take THAT! [She also punches the dough once for good measure.]

[thetimebomb]

Much better! You gotta pound [Punches the dough for emphasis.] the life outta the dough!

[pardonmylanguage]

Like this? [And she directs a very severe punch to the center of the dough, before shaking her hand to get it off. It drops with a plop and she flips it over to punch it again.]

[thetimebomb]

Just like that! Pretend the dough is your mortal enemy.

[I'm not entirely sure this is the best way to relieve stress.]

[pardonmylanguage]

...right. [She takes a deep breath, before focusing.] Steal my mom, would you? [And she punches the dough even harder, probably sending a few bit splattering.] ...whoops.