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

[terribibble]

[Fiddleford lets Ford eat in peace. This is... nice? It's kind of like when they used to eat together in college, or even in Oregon, before... all that mess. He still hasn't quite got accustomed to believing that he can trust Ford again, but it's times like this that remind him why he wanted to. The company is bolstering. Grounding.

But eventually:]

I was thinkin' of makin' some moonshine, too. God knows a lot of us could use a drink.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford's thoughts are running in a similar vein—how nice this is. How companionable. He makes the occasional sound of enjoyment, but other than that he's quiet until Fiddleford speaks up. He glances up and grins around a mouthful of potato.]

God knows that's right. I did pull a bottle of champagne out of the slot machine, but it hasn't seemed like quite the right time for champagne. Moonshine seems like the more appropriate drink.

[terribibble]

[At the word 'champagne' a very funny expression indeed crosses Fiddleford's face.]

It's not... ah... the Pink Elephant stuff, is it?

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford's brow furrows at that change of expression.]

...Ye-e-es. Why?

[terribibble]

[He turns entirely away from the stove and waves a warning spatula at Ford.]

Do not drink that stuff. It's... it's got to be laced with some sort of drug. I had the worst trip on it I've ever had, period.

[sixfingeredstan]

I—really? [Ford doesn't seem at all fazed by that spatula-waving.] Did you perhaps drink too much of it? I wonder, in moderation...

[terribibble]

It's champagne! No way in hell could the amount I had knock me that flat without it havin' somethin' extra in there.

[sixfingeredstan]

Yes, but if you thought it was just champagne, you'd have drunk a whole lot more of it than if you knew it was spiked with something. Which makes me wonder if the effect would be lessened by a smaller dose.

[God help us all, he has a hypothesis.]

[terribibble]

... Are you considerin' doin' what amounts to acid shots.

[It's barely a question. He pretty much already knows the answer.]

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford takes a placid sip of coffee.]

Of course I'm considering it. A hypothesis is no use if you don't actually test it.

[terribibble]

Oh sweet Jesus.

[He turns back to the stove to prod the potatoes around, shaking his head softly.]

You just be careful. When I say a bad trip I mean a real bad trip.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Again, Ford seems completely unfazed.]

Of course I'll be careful. I lived through the seventies too, Fiddleford. I know what I'm about.

[He is absolutely not going to be careful, rest in peace.]

[terribibble]

And you also wouldn't know moderation if it bit you on the nose.

[sixfingeredstan]

I—I don't know what you're talking about.

[Says Ford 'I could probably take that' Pines as he polishes off the rest of his coffee and stifles a burp, rising to go rinse off his dishes.]

[terribibble]

Stanford. I once saw you readin' four books. At once.

[sixfingeredstan]

And? That's called efficiency, Fiddleford.

[Look at him just placidly rinsing off his dishes like this is a normal conversation (because it totally is).]

[terribibble]

[It is a normal conversation for them and that's the most ridiculous part of all.]

Fine. You wind up terrified of elephants for the rest of your life, you don't get to complain to me about it.

[sixfingeredstan]

[s q u i n t]

...Elephants? Okay, you have to explain that.

[terribibble]

That's... what I saw. Mainly. Elephants. Non-euclidean elephants.

[sixfingeredstan]

'Non-Euclidean elephants.'

[That's a great band name.]

Fascinating. Simply fascinating. Yes, I'll need to conduct thorough research on this stuff.

[terribibble]

[HhhhHHHHGHHHHH]

Well you don't need to but I reckon you're goin' to.

...Glad you liked your breakfast.

[sixfingeredstan]

You know me, Fiddleford. [He flashes a big ol' grin.] Those are one and the same in my book.

I did. Very much. Thank you, again. I'll have to return the favor one of these mornings. For everyone.

[Let him cook you breakfast please.]