catch-all: mordalion.

[nostradamus]

Comments

week one, saturday.

[nostradamus]

[looks at one of the victims AND the majority vote being people who got fucked up on cyoa this week. whew.]

Some people are just too unlucky to live, hm...?

[toxicate]

You think this is a matter of luck?

[ standing here with a coffee in hand, looking. the same as he always does. on that note how asa-adjacent does yoru look generally ]

[nostradamus]

Everything is a matter of luck.

[she looks identical to asa in every way, except for the fact that her eyes are red and she has some facial scarring.]

[toxicate]

That's probably the most morbid thing I've heard since arriving here. Quite an achievement, considering.

[ Huh. ]

Do you have a twin, by chance?

[nostradamus]

Then you must have been walking around for the past two weeks blind and deaf.

[she raises an eyebrow at him.]

I don't.

[toxicate]

The dismissal of free will is much worse than talks of death.

[ tilts his head. ]

There was a girl in the last game named Asa who was identical to you.

[nostradamus]

Was it free will that brought you here?

[sir... she hums.]

So I've been told. It sounds like she's been in more than just one of these games.

[toxicate]

I'm not going to speak in all-or-nothing circles with you.

[ hm. ]

You're aware of her, then, at least.

[nostradamus]

You're the one who took offense to it.

[ROLLING HER EYES.]

Of course I'm aware of her. She's the other me.

week five, saturday.

[nostradamus]

[what the fuck happened today

she's relaxing and drinking some bubble tea from the terminal 4 coffee shop. hello. the vibes are satisfied, but there's a muffled sense of shock and guilt buried underneath.]

[toxicate]

[ hi!! his own vibes are... muted, so the sense of frustration and discomfort leaking through is very diluted. but it's there.

he'll park himself next to her with his own drink. ]

If you've managed to turn me away from gardening for the next few days, I'm going to be really annoyed.

[nostradamus]

If I did, then you have no one to blame but yourself for allowing what was said at trial to bother you.

[toxicate]

Almost derailing the entire thing does bother me a little, actually. [ but. shrugs. ] I've got most of my complaining done by now, though.

You wanted to know about Ha- that guy.

[nostradamus]

I wouldn't call it derailing.

[all is fair in trials and war babey (no)]

I did. Tell me about him.

[toxicate]

Suppose that does imply it was on the rails in the first place.

[ no no that sounds about right ]

...a man, blonde, shorter than me. Purple eyes and a penchant for making a scene of things. Despite that, reliable.

[nostradamus]

Ah. [a blip of realization, and she nods.] I know the one. You said you knew him as Harold?

[toxicate]

No. [ irritated!! ] But that's all I'm able to refer to him as.

Was he there when you were on the other side?

[nostradamus]

He was. I don't know how he ended up there, but he was one of those who came from the village.

[toxicate]

[ welp. that solves one mystery, at least. sighs. ]

Hulkenberg informed me that he arrived back there safely. Did you suspect it was him when I mentioned the name, or do you know another Harold?

[nostradamus]

You said it was no one you knew. So I made an educated guess.

[toxicate]

Are there others there, who we didn't meet on this side first?

[nostradamus]

Four of them, yes. That man was the most tolerable out of the bunch.

[toxicate]

[ ...makes a face. ]

That's not a particularly high bar to surpass, and the rest still failed?

[nostradamus]

What do you mean, it's not a high bar?

[excuse you she has high standards]

[toxicate]

"Tolerable".

[ not so much her standards... ]

Ah, I guess that's more than high praise, coming from you.

[nostradamus]

Of course it is. That man should be honored.

[toxicate]

Honored, huh. The praise gets higher. He must have left quite an impression.

[ taps the concave bandage over his missing shoulder chunk. ]

Less literally than he did on me.

[nostradamus]

Now you're laying it on a little too thick. All it means is that he should rejoice that someone like myself tolerates him.

[she glances at the shoulder, and then huffs out a laugh.]

Were you forced to attack each other?

[toxicate]

You just don't strike me as a middle ground kind of person.

[ tilts his head vaguely. ]

Nothing like that. He set up an explosion which was a little more extravagant than expected. This is a shrapnel wound.

[nostradamus]

Ah. So it was just an accident... That's a little less exciting.