WEEK 11

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (11)

monday - thursday (14) survivors Sunday's trial was only mere hours ago, but you find yourself faced with a new week on The Pygmalion. When you awaken, you will find the ship restored to its previous state, all areas interfered with during the murder looking mostly the same as they did before. It seems you have more exploring to do. The robot in the cafeteria has prepared another breakfast of various foods. (OOC: Please submit your murder proposals by 9 PM EST Tuesday.) taken list profiles private conversations setting rulebook murder proposals ENTER COMMAND_

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[tevinteriscoming]

[He exists his room quickly, looking drained, but not as though he hasn't slept. He doesn't sleep on Thursday evenings anymore. He's expecting more bloodshed, at that it might be quite terrible, but he isn't expecting --

They're really standing there. Kazuma and Shelley, who had met such terrible ends. Elizabeth, whose corpse had been on a table in front of them only days earlier. Adelina, whom he'd comforted, trying to instill hope in her that this wasn't really the end, though not believing it himself. He'd tried a number of tests and tricks to assuage his own fears, but there was always his own nagging doubts. He'd been well trained, after all, to suspect tricks of the eye and of the mind that were too good to be true. Even this could be some trick of a manipulator, except for.

Arumat. He doesn't expect the wave of dizziness that washes over him when he sees him. As he watches him collapse, his eyes going dead and his body lifeless. It's not the first time he watched that happen, and the memory surprises him with how vivid it is. He swears he can hear the sound of strangulation, even, though plainly that isn't what's happening here. It doesn't matter. His heart is hammering the same way, and he braces himself against the wall, staying back.

It would be easier if only he could also see -- the memory vivid again, face frightening, hands steady, enough to make Dorian wonder whether -- but that wasn't who he was at all. Not really, not ever when it mattered. He needs to remember that, but it's suddenly difficult.

If he had any choice, he never would have missed this opportunity. Surely he wouldn't have. But now isn't the time to wonder why, is it? One brief moment more, to hold himself up against the wall, and then he'll move on.]