Week 4.

[trustfelling]

WEEK 4 Three more Competitors died this past week. Chitoge Kirisaki tried to take matters into her own hands only to be punished as a result while William Flemming and Archie both tried to take the Adjudicator up on his word and escape. Three more of you are gone, but there's no going back now. 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... Once again, another set of doors has opened up - this time at the end of the western corridor, leading up and toward the north. Go ahead and explore as much as you like; consider it a reward for surviving another week. COMPETITORS REMAINING: 23

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[OOC: Welcome to week four 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]

[All of today, Ferid seems a little... out of it. Sluggish. Slow to respond. A little irritated.

He can't quite figure out why himself, and while he tries to focus in the sewing room like he usually does it... just kind of ends with him staring at the fabrics in hand, twirling a threaded needle between his fingers idly.

The art studio gets the same sort of response, albeit with a sketchbook, and he has an unusual look on his face as he tries to muster up the energy to draw anything, though there's only going to be light lines of straight up nothing by the time he leaves.

And where does he go?

Straight to Room 13. If Aligula isn't there, he'll be hunting her down all over, and while you're welcome to catch him in the hall he doesn't seem to have much patience today. Or energy.]

sewing room

[flagitate]

[ She hasn't spent much time in here, but that's only because it's full of pretty things, and Katniss and pretty things aren't a good combination. When she sees Ferid, she's expecting--well. Not that. ]

Can't think of anything to make?

[seventhprogenitor]

[His head jerks up and he blinks momentarily, as if realizing someone's speaking to him, before he smiles. It's notably not as... whatever it usually is as well.]

It seems I'm quite lacking in ideas today. Do you have anything you need? That I can make.

[flagitate]

[ ... Well, that's weird. ]

Can you make animals?

[seventhprogenitor]

I'm quite proficient at it, actually.

[He barely catches a yawn, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, before trying to shake it away. Today's the only day that anyone's gonna have seen his apparently fucked up sleep schedule affect him.]

What would you like, Katniss?

room 13~

[innocentloveholic]

[ you're in luck today, Ferid; Aligula's decided today is as good a day as any to touch up some of her wall-paintings. she's got one of his non-alcoholic wine bottles beside her, plus a glass that's half-way filled; she's been taking her time sipping this stuff.

even if it doesn't taste. anything. like wine. ugh.

anyway ooh company, she'll wave him in. ]

Take a seat, Ferid! What's the 4-1-1?

[seventhprogenitor]

[Well, he's certainly shutting the door first. Paint fumes? Who cares.

He's declining to sit though.]

Aligula, you were the only one in my room yesterday, weren't you? You didn't... pass my key off to anyone else or allow anyone else in, and you locked up after you left, didn't you..?

[innocentloveholic]

Of course! I'm not some sort of irresponsible dumb-dumb, especially with other people's things!

[ ...which means she knows Exactly what this is about, and she'll continue to give him maybe half her actual attention as a result. ]

[seventhprogenitor]

[Then not only is she Aware of what this is about, she's Aware of the other thing as well.]

One, it is very rude to drug someone you like, and two... you understand my reluctance to say much on the matter of my age now, don't you.

art studio

[glaciates]

[Isaac really only came in here to grab a sketchbook but uh...]

Hey, Ferid, are you alright?

[You look a little out of it, buddy.]

[seventhprogenitor]

[Out of it? Perish the thought.

... Though the fact that Ferid jumps a little at the voice, something he never does, says that things are, in fact, not alright.]

I'm fine, I'm just...

[...]

At a loss for what to draw. Would you mind being my model?

[glaciates]

...I have never seen you startled like that before.

[That's kind of Weird, actually, but some people are just like that. More pressing is the fact that Ferid did just jump.]

Are you sure you're fine?

[seventhprogenitor]

[Why are you the way you are. Let sleeping dogs lie, Isaac!!! Literally lie!!!]

Betrayed, but healthy.

art studio

[passional]

...You okay, Ferid?

[ Inigo just came here to get some paint for his room, he didn't expect to see Ferid like this. ]

[seventhprogenitor]

[At least he's been caught unawares enough to be glancing at the door every now and then, but it doesn't give him all the energy in the world. Two times is enough for him.

So Ferid simply hums, leaning back in his seat to look at Inigo.]

Is it really all that strange to see me like this?

[Katniss seemed rather weirded out. Not to mention Isaac's reaction.]

[passional]

A little. You seem kind of out of it.

[seventhprogenitor]

I suppose I am, a little.

[...]

Inigo, you must trust me on this, but never scorn a woman somehow. If she asks you about something, you must answer her fully or suffer the consequences, without hesitance. Understood?

sewing room

[fittedgloves]

[ She's wanted to get some more practice, so when she heads up to the sewing room she's surprised to see Ferid there, just staring at the fabric in his hands. ]

Having trouble? [ He obviously isn't, but she knows outright asking Ferid what's wrong might not get her an answer. ]

[seventhprogenitor]

Of a kind.

[... There's no point in pretending to be fine, he supposes, it isn't like he's in any danger as tired as he is.]

Concentrating, really. I was hoping to get some work done, but... I don't believe I'm getting anything done today.

[fittedgloves]

Why is that?

[seventhprogenitor]

I made the mistake of waking someone from their beauty sleep.

[Three guesses as to who it was.]

art studio

[meanttobe]

[It seems Brady's not here for drawing, instead looking around the storage closet. He idly waves to Ferid as he walks in, looks around for a little and... Is Ferid still just sitting there oddly when he comes out uh that's weird.]

Bro? Got something on your mind?

[Everyone is so Thinky this week.]

[seventhprogenitor]

[He suuuure is.]

Nothing but clouds. Or cotton, maybe. They're practically made of the same thing, or so the poets sing.

[Boy, is he tired. Ferid props his chin on his hand, tapping the pencil on his sketchbook, and smiles slightly.]

Are you looking for something, Brady?

[meanttobe]

[Ferid... Brady walks over to the very sleepy immortal.]

Uh, yeah, but I don't think I'm gonna find it. Special kind of foam, wanted to make something with it. [And peers over his shoulder.] You're not usually one who's without ideas, man.

[seventhprogenitor]

[Aww. That's such a compliment. There's nothing on the page, really; some light sketching of lines that don't seem to make up anything else, swirls here and there, small, simple flowers that one just doodles idly.]

Thank you. But today I am, because my head isn't where it should be, and that's... my own fault. I think this might be part of a certain someone's revenge on me.