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foolishmortals2017-07-16 12:08 pm
grimgrinningghosts) wrote in foolishmortals2017-07-16 12:08 pm
WEEK 6
[Another week has come and gone, and three more people are dead. Nearly half of the guests are dead in a little over a month. The ghosts are still not reacting, and with Demyx's execution one has to wonder if the ghosts are even here anymore.
In the very least one more floor has been opened up: the trophy room, a shooting gallery, and a bathing room.
... Maybe keep Kiara out of the trophy room.
14 guests remain.]
[ SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY ]
{OOC: Don't forget to fill out your Week 5 Activity Check!}
In the very least one more floor has been opened up: the trophy room, a shooting gallery, and a bathing room.
... Maybe keep Kiara out of the trophy room.
14 guests remain.]
[ SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY ]
{OOC: Don't forget to fill out your Week 5 Activity Check!}
SUNDAY
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After that's done, and everyone's eaten, and the dishes are cleaned, Ford sets about making amends for his own foolishness at the trial. It had been especially stressful for the ambiguity of the evidence, and he'd said some things he hadn't meant to. Cast doubts he wished he hadn't cast. So he goes to both Mike's and Lefou's doors, knocks, and waits for an answer. It's time to swallow his pride and make some apologies.]
stop fucking killing me jo
So she comes into the kitchen ready to make breakfast for the others, when-- ]
Oh, good morning.
[ She doesn't look like she's slept very well, but it's fine. ]
Wow... did you make all of those pancakes, Mr. Pines?
nope sorry
friendship over bye
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Lefou's surprised to see Ford there, but he smiles a little sheepishly.]
Well, hey, Ford. Everything alright?
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--yo! Thanks for the grub this morning. Is every okay?
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From beyond
Ford has certainly been to a Irish Pub, before, hasn't he? In this case, the place is far more maintained than one would expect from the atmosphere that comes as a package deal with places like these. It'd certainly still set Jiminy Cricket off, but there's...a warmth too it, that definitely hasn't been present around the mansion.
A lone table awaits Ford. A menu and an empty plate sits out, waiting for him. Something almost draws him there.
Investigate?]
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maybe I'll actually stop backdating eventually but oops
Did you make these yourself?
yolo tbh
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fff that was supposed to say 'can't cook'
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Wall-e
Demyx
This ritual has become quite a double-edged sword for her; on one hand, she's glad she can do something to keep the memories of her friends alive. She's glad she can still do something at all. But another part of her hates that she has to keep doing this, that people just keep killing each other week after week despite how badly a toll it takes on them...
Her sigh is deep and heavy as she weaves her magic once more, but... this time she only creates one new figurine. Wall-e, and the little robot she'd seen in one of the pictures in his biography. Eve, right? They're close to each other, and Wall-e is holding out their little hand to the other 'bot...
Demyx... Demyx doesn't get anything. She's still not sure how to feel about what he did, but he did it of his own volition, and not even for the sake of a loved one, like Tadashi did. She won't stop anyone else from leaving something for him, but she won't.
Later on, she can be seen exploring the new rooms! She only very briefly steps into the trophy room and shooting gallery, a little... too unnerved to be around the decour and the guns, so she'll just focus on the bathing room for now!]
This is... amazing.
[A look of curiosity manages to cut through the cloud of apathy hanging around her, but at the same time, she manages to look a bit cautious as well.]
And a bit too good to be true. Could it be... trapped in some way?
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bathing room
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Bathing room
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From beyond
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Bathing room; oops I'm late
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Then there's the shooting gallery!.........nope. Nope. NOPE. As soon as he steps in, Mike's on guard. There are way too many guns and he isn't sure if they're models or not. This room is just ASKING for someone to be murdered. So should you try exploring while Mike's up there, you might run into some issues. Remember that couch he dragged up to the attic before??? LETS JUST SHOVE THIS IN FRONT OF THE GALLERY DOOR. This is fine, this is not being paranoid at all.
Exploring aside, he does recall some people wanted to take a swing at his spark staff. Well, it'd be a good distraction, at least. So when he's hanging in the foyer, Mike might suddenly toss you the staff while it's in its compact chrome skull form.]
Head's up!
foyer
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Gallery
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Star finds the new floor easily enough, and tries one of the rooms. She walks in....
...and immediately runs out, screaming and slamming the door behind her.]
THE ROOM IS FULL OF DEATH.
[guess who found the trophy room.]
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Wendy found the shooting gallery. There is an uncomfortable amount of guns in here, even for someone that would have been rather hype to hold a rifle. Fortunately, if you're exploring and spot her aiming at one of the targets... and fire a BB round, you're gonna see her sighing with relief.]
Holy cow. [She glances back, someone's there. She waves sheepishly.] It's alright. They're fake.
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MONDAY
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I summon... the spirit of that table lamp!
[The wand glows a more intense shade of pink and then...! It let's out another useless puff of smoke.]
Ugh! Come onnnn, why can't I get you to work!?
[She points it at the couch.]
Breathe life into this shell! Mystical Couch Escalation!
[The light from the 'wand' glows brighter than before, enveloping the couch entirely. When the light fades, the upholstery fabric has changed from dreary black and purple stripes to bright pastel pink polka dots.
Star gawks for a moment before whooping at the top of her lungs.]
IT DID SOMETHING! Not even remotely what I wanted it to do, but something!!
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TUESDAY
MOTIVE: It's Our House Now!
Once again, the television is involved again, though Oogie Boogie can't be found. Shortly after everybody gathers, the room goes dim, and the television lights up. Sound emerges from all around them:]
It's our house now!
It's our house now!
It's a fact you can't ignore
Shut the windows, lock the doors
It's our house now!
Raise your mugs, you thieves and thugs
Join the rabble-rousing crowd
It's our house now!
[The screen flashes with pictures of different characters - ones who have been antagonistic to your characters in the past. There's a triangle in a big stupid hat, a handsome fellow with sideburns, a fat coachman...you get what they're doing here.
Footage plays of them doing what they do best. Coming back from some sort of demise, terrorizing your worlds...you fill in the blanks. You've never seen it before, but something about this looks so real.
Oogie laughs over the proceedings.]
Don't kill this week, and we're getting in touch with some of your favorite people and letting 'em go haywire on where you live!
For some of you, you'll want to do this while you still have a home to go back to.
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He'd resigned himself to this fate, and had set to working tirelessly to get out and make it right. If he and his companions could be pulled from countless points in time, there was certainly a way for him to make things right. He had to believe that.
Right now, he needed to save his strength. His world needed him, but for right now, those in the mansion took priority. Maui was no wordsmith, couldn't comfort anyone (other than Lefou) with his tongue. Instead, he set to making food, something warm to fight the chill that had set in. After a short while, both chicken and pork were laid out on the table, and a handful of bottles had been brought down from the bar. Even a large, if clumsily made, salad was presented -- or at least Maui hoped it resembled a salad.
Anyone would be free to come and get food. And if they were so inclined, Maui had also brought out Heihei. Comfort animal, anyone?]
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Even when he stays in one room for a while, he's got a frantic energy to him. He slides up and down instruments in the music room, maintaining a constant eye on the door. He pops by the billiards room, hoping that the table hasn't been fixed, attempting to knock it back over if it has.
The slowest he gets is outside, once again looking for a star to save him. He finds himself glaring at the sky, against all his instincts and habits.]
Can't stop him, can you? Can't do a damn useful thing, can you?
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fight the power!
On the second floor, you might notice the doors to the study open, with Wendy inside, rooting through drawers, cabinets, everything with a strange energy. She's basically making a mess on top of the desk.
But it all pays off later, because in the foyer Wendy seems to have set up a small... art area? There's no tarps or anything, but that's not Wendy's style as it is. She just starts by flinging the contents of one of the inkwells she found onto the wall, and starts to work from there. It's almost meticulous how she works to spell out "SCREW GHOSTS" in ink and condiments.
Oh yeah, she's got the ketchup and mustard out too. You know, for coloring.]
foyer
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Foyer
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WEDNESDAY
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He found himself looking toward the attic, more than once. If he could just... maybe no one would have to be executed. But he still remembered too well the weight of Anna's body in his arms, her head in his hands. He didn't want anyone to have to find him like that, and that was the only thought that stayed his feet.
So instead he sought a distraction with the slot machine on the first floor, taking the small pile of coins that had collected in his room since he had started staying with Maui and amassing a not-small pile of stuff. Stuff that he mostly spread out in the lounge for anyone interested to claim. He at least found interest in...looking at the pictures in the cookbook, anyway, as he sucked curiously on one of the ice cream bars (the rest, thanks to a month and a half being spent around modern technology, he knew to store in the freezer, but it was cold and probably food, and he was curious about the salty sweet smell).
He was only distractedly flipping through, though, his gaze focused somewhere else. He lapped stray melting droplets of ice cream from his hand and fingers when his focus strayed too far from the ice cream in his hand. Occasionally he would lower the book and wince, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the heel of his clean, empty hand to his brow.
When it came around to night time, however, he didn't go to bed right away. Instead, he was up in the casino, sitting at one of the blackjack tables with one hand rubbing tiredly at his forehead as he watched the television play on repeat, as Gaston in his red coat, the same coat that was stored in Lefou's trunk downstairs, sieged the castle single-handedly. If someone didn't stop this, the prince would die, and who knew who else would pay the price for trying to stand between Gaston and Belle. What scared him was how easily he could reconcile this dark, murderous monster with the man who had been his friend, looked out for him in the army. The man who had abandoned him.
And even if no one killed this week, if they somehow got out of here and went home... The others had bigger worries than one man. But Lefou wasn't strong enough to stop him, hadn't even been strong enough to stand up to him. And Gaston... would kill him, probably, if he couldn't convince him to come back to him. But after what he was watching, Lefou would rather die than ever go back to simpering behind Gaston.]
Ugh...
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trophy room
And eventually she goes a-sniffing. Immediately she has regrets. She only took a couple of steps into the room before it hit her consciousness hard just what she's looking at, here.
Bodies. Probably hundreds of bodies of animals, forced to... to stay whole and not decay. Not used properly or returned back to the earth. A mockery of death! It's even worse than those farces of executions! It's disgusting!]
What on earth?!
[She yowls and bolts from the room, claws all out and hair standing on end all the way down her spine. Her skin shivers and shakes like she's about to freeze to death.]
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THURSDAY
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She doesn't want to assume the worst; after all, Kairi had been okay without her for that long, right? ... But she doesn't want to think about what happens if someone is separated from their Nobody for too long. Truth is, she isn't sure.
Regardless, she's out and about on Thursday. While Nobodies don't need to sleep, it's something she's gotten used to, and it shows. She moves a little slower, her face is a little paler. But she goes to the kitchen for some tea and toast. In the end, she doesn't touch the toast.
Then she goes to the foyer. It's morbid, that she looks upon the portraits of the dead... but she's there gazing upon them, hands folded in front of her. And then she covers her face with her hands. ]
You all shouldn't have had to...
[ ... After that, she goes to the bathing room. She's still wary, but she decides to go ahead and at least attempt to relax. ]
it's time. time to kitchen
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bathing room
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foyer; late but not forgotten?
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HOUSE MEETING UP IN HERE
Information she had to share with everyone.
She'd spent monday trying to recreate the drawing Man had shown her as best she could, but hadn't had time to gather everyone up before night rolled in. Then tuesday happened, with the motive as usual, and the past few days have been a bit tense because of it... but she couldn't keep putting it off any longer. So early enough thursday morning, when she hopes most people will still be in their rooms to see them, she slips notes under each door of the remaining residents.]
[Elsa doesn't really eat much these days, so she skips out on breakfast, choosing instead to wait for everyone to gather in the lounge. She just has the sketch she recreated, the journal piece she already shared with the others, and another piece she found more recently set beside it.]
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Journal pages itt?
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