WEEK 3 MINGLE

[foundationmods]

WEEK 3

Week three opens like the other two weeks, but when you wake up, you know there's been a change in the area. At first, nothing is wrong - but when you look at any window, you aren't greeted with the cheery sight of the outside - instead, there's just a cold, harsh blackness. Trying to leave out the doors is impossible, too - if you try, you just find yourself back on the couches in the lobby. On top of that....The Staff are beginning to act even stranger, their glitching out becoming more obvious. Sometimes, they seemingly go blank mid sentence and walk away, as if they were reset, and slur or stutter their words.

The weather is...well, non-existent, except for the courtyard, which is still pleasantly snowy. There is still music playing in the halls, and the cover songs continue with some low-key music for the week.

On Monday morning, another memory is returned to everyone. Another piece to the puzzle, one step closer to finding the truth of this place. Yet, it doesn't seem like you're any closer to solving this...

And time still ticks onwards, regardless if you're ready or not.


PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS | MURDER PROPOSALS/VOLUNTEERING | LOCATIONS | APPRENTICE PC POST

MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

Comments

[xenoqueen]

[Sometime during all of this, Ripley makes her way back into the room with a bowl of noodle soup and stops dead in the doorway. Her eyes dart from the alcohol to the group of adults huddled around and taking shots.]

I literally left for ten minutes. Where did you get those drinks?

[She's...not mad, she's just disappointed.]

[resortghosts]

Phil did it.

[snitch]

[xenoqueen]

Of course he did.

[She sighs, gulping down her soup and then setting the half-empty bowl to the side. It's been a long three weeks.]

Whatever. Give me a drink.

[resortghosts]

What's your poison, my dear? I've chosen vodka this evening.

[he taps the bottle against the table lightly]

[xenoqueen]

Vodka.

[Just. Straight up. Her expression barely changes.]

Just give me a shot.

[resortghosts]

[no judgement from him. This is pretty good stuff, after all. He'll grab a shot glass from Phil's stash and pour her one, then slide it over]

[geckodad]

Not mine.

[Nobody asked you to defend yourself, Iwai]

[xenoqueen]

...Thanks, Iwai. Glad you've got my back.