WEEK 1: April 2nd - April 6th

[cartesio]

Peace Week

Sunday must have been exhausting for you, maybe even upsetting. A new town, new faces and a an ominous order from a man without a face... who wouldn't be a little frightened? Hopefully, all of that is forgotten when you climb out from under your blankets this fine Monday. Rise and shine! A new morning is a new start!

If you make your way to the lounge, you will find a few copies of the local newspaper provided for your perusal. Once you go outdoors, you'll find the weather forecast 100% accurate. It's pretty impressive.

It seems that quiet mornings like this are going to be your everyday life now. Maybe you should see this whole stay as a vacation? Go out and explore the town, meet your fellow motel guests and meet the townspeople. They're sure to welcome you with a smile!

This week's special in the diner is lemon pie made with love (and a top-secret recipe)

Links

IC Rules
Guestbook
Room Assignments
Locations
NPCs
Activity Check

Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday

[Welcome to the peace week! This week there won't be a murder nor a task. Enjoy the peace while it lasts! If you want to contact the Sergeant, please post here!]

Comments

[snideper]

You real attached to this one?

[She...doesn't know what a gun is. She keeps moving it around in her hands with absolutely no regard for any amount of basic gun safety? She has absolutely nothing to gain from this except being annoying.]

[marmoron]

It's mine, so yeah.

[The frown intensifies as he watches her toying around with the gun. Mercifully none of those are loaded so he's not too concerned that she's going to shoot one of them accidentally.]

Guessing you'd feel the same about your bow and arrows.

[snideper]

First of all, don't make guesses about me. [She sneers, and the disgust doesn't fade as she twirls the gun experimentally.] You bought this, what, this morning? You get this attached to stuff so quickly?

[marmoron]

Keep touching my stuff and I'll make all the guesses I want about you.

[Yeah, he's not backing down.]

[snideper]

[She smirks and twirls the gun again.]

Keep being wrong, then.

[Without putting the gun down, she crouches back beside the box she took it from, humming as she looks over its contents. At least she hasn't just shoved her hands in there yet? You wanna play the stubborn game because she can.]

[marmoron]

[Did you say "let's play the stubborn game" cuz Keith's amazing at that one. He's got his eye on her, one hand not quite on the hilt of one of his new knives, but within quick grabbing distance. Just in case there's trouble.]

Why a bow and arrow?

[She can insist that he's wrong all she likes, but he's getting the distinct feeling she really likes to play with her food. Long range weapons don't seem to fit the bill there.]

[snideper]

[Interest lights up in her eyes and Clarisse drops the gun back in the box and just as soon picks up a knife. Even before she finishes standing, she starts twirling it the same way someone else might flick a pen between their fingers or play with their hair as they talk.]

I'm good with 'em. Why literally everything in the armory?

[marmoron]

[Ah. Comfortable with knives, too, then. Keith hasn't reached for his, still observing.]

Maybe I want to get some practice.

[snideper]

[Twirl, twirl, twirl; she knows some pretty cool tricks, actually... Would be way cooler if she wasn't very obviously very murderous!!!]

Maybe? You good at anything but guessing?

[marmoron]

[She's showing off; he'll let her do that without showing much of a reaction. His eyebrow remains arched, tone still deadpan.]

I like to keep people guessing. What can I say.

[snideper]

I don't really have time for guessing games.

[The knife stops still between her fingers and Clarisse, keeping eye contact with Keith, jams it into a leather pouch at her side.]

[marmoron]

[And with that, Keith's on the move. She's already gotten warnings and he's not feeling particularly generous about giving another. A former assassin himself, he's quick on his feet and quicker to the draw. Knife in hand, he draws his arm back like he's about to slash -- a feint. The real blow comes in the form of a kick aimed to knock her down.]