WEEK 8

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Two months. Two months of being trapped in this mansion. Two months of heartbreak and despair. Two months of wondering if you are all going to die here.

You finally have a real ray of hope thanks to Mr. Walt, but even he claims that it will be a hard journey ahead. You all have to be strong, physically, emotionally, any kind of strength will work against what you're up against. Maybe take the next few days to rest before the long journey, or prepare for the dangers that await, the choice is yours, but...

Will you be able to escape?

8 guests remain]

[ SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY ]

{OOC: Don't forget to read and respond to our endgame details/check in!}

Comments

[sixfingeredstan]

[Tuesday brings with it a renewed sense of determination; a few days is not long enough to assuage Ford's grief, but he has a sense of purpose, now, and if Walt is to be trusted, the end is in sight, now. He's no longer barring himself in his room, at least, though it does appear as if he's given up shaving burning off his facial hair for the time being. There are more important things at hand, which means his five o'clock shadow is well on its way to being an actual beard.

He downs a cup of coffee in the kitchen first thing, what must be his fifth or sixth since last night, because he certainly hasn't been sleeping. He's been far too busy poring over his deceased husband's notebook, looking over each potential design, deciding which of them is feasible with the materials he has available to him. WALL-E isn't going to be resurrected, not without Fiddleford's computer engineering brain, but Ford fully intends to bring his damaged motherboard along for the ride, wherever they end up.

After he's refueled for the day, he begins to go through his amassed belongings, sorting through them with a keen eye for what's useful and what can stay behind—as well as what might belong to someone else. With that in mind, he seeks out Naminé with a white bundle draped over one arm, and after some deliberation, Wendy with a large, old book in tow.

Later, he settles in the Study, Fiddleford's notebook spread out in front of him along with his own, his old journal, and several other books. He's hunched over a writing desk, muttering to himself as he scribbles furiously in his notebook, every so often cross-referencing another text as he works out what seems to be a series of increasingly-complicated mathematical equations. Feel free to bother him...it just might take you a few tries to get his attention.]

[amadeusrockette]

Mr. Pines?

[She's got another copy of her song. It took her a while to transcribe another copy, mainly because she thought . . . well, it just seemed to her that if Lefou couldn't read the music, it might just be easier if she did it the cheat's way and wrote the chords above the words.]

Mr. Pines, I have something for you. I wanted to give it you before we leave.

[sixfingeredstan]

Hmm—?

[The first time she says his name, he's distracted; he doesn't even look up from his writing, not until she says it again, and keeps talking. He sets his pen down and actually turns to face her, looking puzzled by the piece of paper she's got.]

Oh? What's this?

[chainbroke]

[ He's caught her in-between her errands for the day, and when she sees him, she perks right up. She looks like she's had a good night's sleep, and she's even opted to braid her hair. It's not quite as nice as when Fiddleford had done it, but... it's okay. ]

Hi. [ Then she notices the bundle. ] Oh--what's that?

[sixfingeredstan]

[It's always a balm on his soul to see Naminé, but today especially, seeing her perk up like that to see him. Ford isn't used to that reaction to people seeing him, not by a mile, but he's slowly thinking he could get used to it.]

Hi, kiddo. [He gives her an affectionate smile that's working its way toward looking less tired by the day, and holds out the bundle. It's a white dress that looks about her size.]

I pulled this out of the slot machine a while back, and I didn't even think until now...is this yours?

[kindaruledatit]

[Eventually, he's going to catch her outside in the graveyard, sitting on a tombstone and busying herself with the strange, golden gauntlet on her arm. She's looking alright, cool and collected, and even like she bathed today. That's a plus.

She looks up, noticing him on the approach.]

Sup, Ford? [Her gaze flickers to the book in his arms.] Uh, found something cool in the study?

[sixfingeredstan]

[He's relieved to find Wendy, because in a place like this...well, it's always a relief to find the people you care about alive and well. He glances down at the book under his arm, hesitates, and shakes his head as he holds it out to her.]

No, actually. I got it from the slot machine a while ago. It...I think it belonged to him. The cricket.

[He can't bring himself to say his name just yet.]