trustfelled | time for some re-ass-surance

time for some re-ass-surance

[It's been a little while since Asgore did anything relating to the afterparties, and that's something he intends to correct today. Several hours after...everything that that execution was...notes in a neat script go out:]

If you do not wish to be alone, please come to the bar. I will provide food and drink in addition to what is there.

- King Asgore Dreemurr

[Even King Fluffybuns knows that people need booze after a day like today.

He indeed hasn't seemed to touch the alcohol at all, but god knows there's plenty available. Have at it, people who know more about mixing drinks than him. If you don't want to make your own, there's always the tea and coffee set out, as well as some simple food: soup, sandwiches, and two pies. One seems to be berry, and one...well, it looks a little like a pumpkin pie, but it's not quite the same color, and it's garnished with a couple of cinnamon sticks.

Maybe it's some recipe of Asgore's.]

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[Sakura sits at one of the tables, contemplating the pie and shaking her head.]

That was something.

[enters the room.

grabs a bottle of vodka.

leaves.

but if anyone does actually wanna bother her she's gonna go be grumpy by the pool. lying on her back, kicking her feet in the water, swigging the half-empty bottle, singing a bit off-key.]

And if you see my reflection... in the snow-covered hills...

[Well, that was a trial. That was one hell of a trial. After everything went down, he goes back to room 8 to grab a pack of cigarettes before heading to the bar. He’s definitely there before the after party is scheduled just nursing a few glasses of whiskey on the rocks and smoking up a storm. Honestly, the booze his helping his mind attempt to make that clusterfuck make a little sense in his mind.

He’s seen people kill for RP. He’s seen a high school girl kill and turn her victim’s bodies into artwork in commemoration of her father. Zombies are pretty fucking new and he’s seen some fucked up shit. He still can’t feel that the two who were considered ‘culprits’ in this case were technically victims, but rules are rules.

So he’s going to reflect on that for a bit. If anyone wants to pick at his mind, he certainly wouldn’t mind that at all.

After a bit, he’ll hang around the external foyer, smoking, and just looking out the window before retiring back to room 8 for the night. He probably won’t fall asleep right away so he’ll answer anyone who knocks at his door.]

[Like usual, Greed spends a good portion locked in his room, though he does eventually come out, if only because the bar has become something of a safe place to him. He knows a lot about it, and though he isn't sure how much he'll be up for bartending today, he's behind the bar anyway, because it's not like he can drink to get drunk to begin with.

When he isn't actually behind the bar, he's by himself a little ways, staring at a plate of food like he's not actually sure he wants to eat it. Like usual, it doesn't seem like he really... eats to begin with.]

I can't say I would have ever thought something like that would happen.

[Geez. His head is still spinning from that trial.]

[ You know what, while she isn't one for drinking, but after today, there are somethings she'd like to forget. So, she's at the bar with a glass of red wine and a slice of Asgore's not-pumpkin pie. Despite having both drink and food, she doesn't seem to be touching either—well, not exactly, the poor slice of pie is getting quite the stabbing. Although, there isn't even malice in that, considering she's just starting blankly into the wine while doing it.

Needless to say, she isn't feeling great. ]

I talked a great deal with Wesker, and he seemed interested in similar things, but reanimating the dead seemed a bit of a jump. Apparently not.

[Asgore himself will spend the night seated at the bar. He promised, after all, that anyone who came there would not be alone.

It looks like he's picking his way through a piece of butterscotch-cinnamon pie, but for being the guy who made it, he doesn't seem very enthusiastic at all about it. The poor slice gets pushed around its little plate more than anything else, while Asgore reads over a piece of paper that was clearly once folded up like a letter. Some people might see that a secrets envelope from several weeks ago was also attached, but Asgore only has it out for a moment, scanning the secret inside before stuffing it back into the envelope and hiding the whole thing away.

(Rin, Sakura the Elder, Pizzazz, Wheatley, and Ryoji will all be quietly flagged down at some point in the evening, probably in their own threads. The last letter he will keep along with his own.)

He seems pensive and rather troubled after the letter-reading is over with. He may even be eyeing the alcohol a little contemplatively.]

[ George comes to the bar as soon as he received the note - Asgore being the sender doesn't even bother him anymore. Humanoid or not humanoid...... it doesn't matter here at all, does it? There's no equipment to figure this out and his eyes certainly betray him. Because everyone here is monsters, huh?

He sits down at the counter and pours himself a drink, but he doesn't take more than a sip from it before he's just staring at empty air through his sunglasses.

Sunglasses.

He has to think of Wesker now, his eyes when he died.... Sunglasses were always a symbol of his pride as a D.U.C.K. agent to him. The uniform he loves so much as well as a safety measure to not let anyone read his expressions, his mind... Putting on his sunglasses in the morning has always been a good thing, giving him, well, confidence.

But Wesker's... they were hiding inhumanity beyond imagination, horrors they never could have thought of and that make Nachetanya look harmless. George doesn't want to be the same as that. He doesn't want anyone here to think his sunglasses are masking inhumanity. The only one who's seen his eyes yet is Nachetanya and she's... ugh.

His hand lingers on his sunglasses for a long time, shaking a little. Then he forcefully jerks them off, slams them down on the table and...... just buries his head in his arms.

Not his most graceful moment. ]

[ The bar is definitely where Pizzazz heads first. Well... after she's grabbed her guitar and tiny amp from her room, that is. That baby's strapped across her back, and the amp is in her hand.

She fixes herself up... something, there's a moment of hesitation as she tries to figure out what, and grabs a piece of pie to go sit and the bar and eat, amp set next to her. There's no real desire to talk to anyone, but she won't reject anyone who wants to talk either.

She ducks out of the party a little early, though? And she actually heads to the chapel, of all places, where she sort of... sits up front and looks out over all the pews, before setting up her guitar. And then she starts playing. And singing. She doesn't look um. Very happy, right now. It's been a not so great week. ]

...Pizzazz?

[Asgore doesn't take long to approach, seeming downcast. He offers her a letter with her name written on the outside.]

This was among Wesker's things. It is yours to do with as you wish.

Sakura. There was...a letter for you among Wesker's belongings. Do you want it?

[He's holding it, still unopened, because he's not a savage who reads other peoples' mail.]

... for me? Seriously?

[ She takes it and... reads it, um. ]

Well shit, I guess I can't let a robot suffer just because it happened to belong to him.

...my wife's recipe. Butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

[He's not even looking at her as he talks, staring down at his own slice. He does not seem very engaged in the words, even.]

It is much better when she makes it.

...is that what it was about?

[He actually seems a bit surprised.]

Well. Certainly not. It cannot help who got it from the machine.

[Sakura nods and holds out her hand.]

My thanks. I suppose he foresaw his own failure, then.

[Receiving a note from Asgore was unusual, but its content is what gets Wheatley the most. Wesker was truly an insane man -- nothing Wheatley isn't unfamiliar with, because science has a lot of crazy people in the field. Still, there's something about the note from Wesker that makes him feel a strange combination of wistfulness, confusion and gratitude.

The first thought he has is that he should talk with Nozomi about it. She had invited him to confide in her if he ever needed. It takes him no more than a couple seconds to remember that, well, she's dead and gone. Now that she's gone, he doesn't really have anyone to confide with.

You may find him in the dojo. That's a place he imagines nobody's going to go to, and from the sound of it, he's talking to himself. That must be a thing he does, just talk to himself when he has too much inside him stewing]

...fixed the glass cover of my eye. Not a bad job, I almost can't see the crack anymore. He was--a strange man, but I liked him. He felt almost familiar in some way. Maybe it's because he knew what I was talking about? About a lot of stuff.

You know what I'd say to him if I saw him again?

...that it's okay. That he read my secret. And that I didn't read it, but I thought I knew what it was about. If he ever wakes up in some sort of unholy undead form, well, I'd warn everybody because that's no good. But I'd be a bit...glad? Until someone kills him again. Or you could fill his mouth with salt. That works too. I think.

[At some point Wheatley's bound to notice you. When he does, he jumps, startled]

Sorry, I thought there'd be nobody around here. You come to train? Nice, physical training, that'll help you. Physical exercise is important. Make sure to look up and down, that's the official Aperture Science exercise routine.

[He keeps moving to the door of the dojo. He wasn't done with his cavilations, so he was going to look for another place that wasn't his room.

If you want to stop him or say something to him, go ahead, he'll listen]

[...Today certainly left the group with so much to take in.

Lovecraft, for how out of it he usually seems, even looks conflicted and contemplative, if his expression could be described any which way, as he pokes at his pie in the bar. That virus of Wesker's...how he intended to use it and how Nozomi described its effects...

He sighs, and continues to eat. At least there is pie.

After he finishes up in the bar, he can be found at the pool's deep end for a little bit, though he returns to room 7 not long after. There's a certain door in the alcove that he lingers near on his way to his room, but...he's not sure what to do, in the end.]

[Sakura... doesn't feel like an afterparty today, so once the trial is over, she'll make slow but steady progress to room 19, room key in hand. Her plan is to be in and out, but instead she spends 15 minutes inside, door locked.

... At least when she escapes back into the hallway, her face is completely dry and void of tears. She's also holding two items - a flower crown made of cardboard, and an envelope folded in half. Before leaving, she makes sure to lock the door.

Then it's to room 10 with her, where she'll stay the rest of the night. Knocks on the door will likely get an answer, at least. Maybe.]

He...said in mine that he did not know what would happen. But he knew what he intended. I suppose he planned for the possibility.

You're really good. [ He's drawn here more by her singing than anything else, having not really wanted to stay at the afterparty too long either. ]

As anyone with sense would.

I won't deny that he wasn't a good person. Simply someone I could understand a great deal.

[ She snaps out of her thoughts when he talks, then takes a glance at Asgore before turning her attention to the slice of pie. ]

O-Oh, it looks good, but I'm afraid I don't have much of an appetite right now.

[ In a better mood, she would fake a laugh, but she can't even muster that. ]

Was your wife... held hostage? [ She did see a goat woman but she doesn't want to assume anything. ]

It hasn't been good on you, has it?

[ He'll lift his head at that. His eyes are dark blue if that bit of new information matters to Sakura. ]

Has it been good on anyone? This is not exactly the most moralizing experience.

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