Week 3.

[trustfelling]

WEEK 3 The end of the second week sees two more people dead, and two more rooms sitting empty in the dormitories. Nephenee and Rideaux Zek Rugievit are both gone, but with the start of the third week, it looks as though the game will continue on without them. Saturday is given to regrouping and sleep; on Sunday morning the clock chimes as it always has, but at least there are no bodies to find today. The night before wasn't necessarily a peaceful one, however; you'll probably feel a bit groggy when you wake up, and it seems you've regained something that you didn't realize you'd lost... Meanwhile, it looks like another set of doors have opened up at the end of that southern hallway, leading to another long corridor stretching out to the east. Go ahead and explore as much as you like; you've earned it, after all. COMPETITORS REMAINING: 26

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[OOC: Welcome to week three of Trustfell! Don't forget to save your threads for coins and the activity check, and don't forget to submit this week's activity check and memory regains!

If you'd like to get in contact with the Adjudicator, you can do so here!]

Comments

[seventhprogenitor]

[It's a bit of a delayed reaction when he steps away, waving a hand.]

Please, remain where you are! I'll take my own steps.

[...]

The smell and the thought, maybe. As a combination. If it's like that, I don't really recognize it as blood, but if it's... elsewhere, I do. I've never had much experience with blood bags.

[God, was that ever a lie.]

[meanttobe]

Uh, right! Right, sorry! [He holds the blood bag a bit farther away from Ferid.] Hm... Has it always just been... You don't seem to-

[How can he put this]

When Juri does his...thing, to...Mallick and Rideaux.

[seventhprogenitor]

There's no blood, just a strange golden light. It's... almost beautiful, in a way.

[nani the fuck ferid]

[meanttobe]

[UM BRO?????]

...No, no it's really not.

[seventhprogenitor]

[Ferid hums noncomittally at that, waving his hand.]

I've been around thousands of years -- whether I like it or not, I have seen more death than almost anyone here, and that particular fashion reminds me of a firefly. You catch it in your palm and the glow disappears.

[He clenches his fits gently, as if holding one himself, and then fans his fingers out again, still pointedly looking away from the blood bag.]

The difference is that I don't know if he can release them in the same fashion. That's all.

[The method's beautiful because it's clean and efficient, murder and death be damned.]

[meanttobe]

[A chill goes down Brady's spine. It's so easy to forget just how old Ferid is...but in moments like this, it's impossible to ignore.]

Maybe. [He shrugs.] I guess...I just have a different perspective than you do on all this.

[seventhprogenitor]

Everyone's perspective on death is different based on their experiences, even if they haven't lived as long as I have. You've grown up rather fortunately, haven't you? Tell me about it.

[While you hold a blood bag.]

[meanttobe]

[Anything...for a pal...]

Uh, how I grew up? I dunno. That's a pretty broad question. Lived in the same place my whole life, not a lot of money problems, mom's always been generally chill. Don't see my dad a lot? Not that great in school? Kind of a pretty normal life.

[except for all the weird things in his memories but he's still figuring those out so]

[seventhprogenitor]

So you've never had to deal with death, except perhaps with pets. That's simply why our views are different.

[... And the fact he's lived so many goddamn years, but still. Ferid waits a moment and steps closer a bit, glancing at the blood.]

... You'd think, though, after so many years, I'd be used to the sight and smell of blood.

[meanttobe]

That makes sense, I guess. My grandpa died when I was four but, I don't really remember much of it.

[He clutches the bag tight, glancing at it.]

If you don't mind me asking, like... What do you think it is about it that bothers you? You said, the smell, the thought...but have you ever thought about what makes it so bad for you?

[seventhprogenitor]

[Hmm. What should he say...]

... Two thousand years ago, the world was a very different place. [His voice is a little quieter now.] You could say that the land was fertilized with blood -- not just the enemy's, but with our own. I suppose it might go back to that time, when I was powerless to stop any of it.

[meanttobe]

Oh... Not really something you can easily shake, huh? Jeez, man. I'm sorry, I...shouldn't've asked, but...if I can help in any way, even if it's just. [Gestures to blood bag.] Here I am.

[hot damn ferid that was impressive]

[seventhprogenitor]

[He's had thousands of years of experience.]

You're helping enough as is, Brady, really. Thank you.

[...]

Shall we put the bag away for today? We can return to it another time.

[meanttobe]

'Course, bro. [And away the offending liquid goes.]

I really meant what I said, though. It's good of you to try and overcome this, to help everyone else.

[seventhprogenitor]

[Your good will fills him with Vague Disgust.]

I try to do what I can. I can't let you young folk beat me just because I'm so old, you know~. I have to do my part as your elder~.

[meanttobe]

[Be a good person, Ferid! It's great!!]

Thanks for looking out for us youngsters, gramps.