Week 5 - After The Massacre

[dolleyed]

[ Silence has settled in the resort, but the lack of auditory input hardly seems to matter when there is an overwhelming stench of death hanging in the air of the third floor. Burned flesh, the iron stench of blood, burned hair... guts and decay. All everywhere.

No staff appears to clean the mess. There's only yourselves now and the remnants of what used to be your friends. ]

Comments

[resortghosts]

[ After a few minutes, Owain should be able to feel a hand covering one of his. ]

[swordhandled]

[ he pauses his typing, before turning his hand over, trying to lace those fingers together ]

[resortghosts]

[ there's no resistance, and likely no need for the ghost to help him out. this hand should be familiar enough by now they can do it blindfolded ]

[swordhandled]

I promise, I'll bring you back. You, Cynthia, everyone. I'll bring you all back.

[resortghosts]

[ since he can't reply verbally (or textually), he squeezes owain's hand. tight. ]

[swordhandled]

[ squeezes back ]

I have an idea... later tonight though.

[resortghosts]

[ the phantom touch lingers for another few seconds before pulling away. he isn't leaving though, not yet, which should be obvious by the new sensation of someone leaning their head on owain's shoulder.

that's probably his way of letting owain get back to his typing. ]

[swordhandled]

[ shifts so that he's leaning against him and going back to typing. gerome can see the conversation he's having here ]