WEEK 3: April 15th - April 19th

[cartesio]

Third Week

The peaceful times are over. Moloch von Zinzer was murdered, and Nine was sentenced as his murderer. Everyone in Cartesio knows that.

Although life goes on, it seems the town of Cartesio isn't going to forget the tourists' transgressions. Not only they commited larceny in the cinema, they also murdered and executed in their town! It's no surprise their hospitality towards the visitors has cooled down considerably.

Not only they're maintaining a tense cordiality with them, they also have started talking behind the visitors' backs. All kinds of rumors are starting to sprout, yet nobody seems to be willing to say it to the tourists' faces. Talking directly to most passerby makes them distrustful, and nobody seems to want to be in close quarters alone with them.

It's only matter of time before the relationship between tourists and Cartesio starts degrading even further.

In the lobby of the motel there's a few more brochures, and the maps have been updated once again.

Links

IC Rules
Guestbook
Room Assignments
Events
Locations
NPCs
Activity Check

Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday

[Welcome to the third week! If you want to contact the Sergeant, please post here!. Also please remember to submit your activity check!]

Comments

[robitussin]

...She was kicking the jukebox, and I tried to stop her. It's not a big deal anymore.

[Likes: music.]

[marmoron]

...How'd you get out of that without getting stabbed?

[Honest question here.]

[robitussin]

Oh, you know. Just some light strangulation from her part. No big deal.

[hm!!]

[marmoron]

How is that not a big deal? You alright?

[robitussin]

I'm alive, so I'm counting that as a yes.

[marmoron]

[God how many people does he have to be not-concerned about in this damn town....]

And other people saw her doing this to you.

[robitussin]

...I'm not sure, actually. It was a few weeks ago. If there was anyone there, it was a townsperson, and I'm pretty sure they have no idea what's going on half the time.

[marmoron]

...So Clarisse strangles you in public, but I'm the one who gets to go to jail.

[Fucking Cartesio's selective attention???? Just loud sighing mentally at that one.]

You need pepper spray?

[He's got... perhaps way too much of this kind of stuff in his room, Just hanging out.]

[robitussin]

...Actually, I cannot think of a single good reason to turn that down, and that's kind of distressing.

[marmoron]

Well, you better get used to it.

[And that said, he's going to start heading back to the motel.]

[robitussin]

Get used to using pepper spray...?

[She nods, though, following after him.]

You want me to come with, or you want to just give it to me later?

[marmoron]

Up to you.

[He's got no problems with her company or whatever.]

Room's a bit of a mess though.

[BOXES EVERYWHERE. His room is a fire hazard.\

[robitussin]

[She continues following in his stride, then, head tilting in curiosity.]

Yeah, I'd bet. How'd you end up sorting out all the stuff you bought, anyways?

[marmoron]

I haven't really. A lot of it's still in the boxes.

[Admittedly it'd just been easier to just keep things in the boxes instead of having guns, knives, camping supplies spill over everywhere....]

I need to move some of the safer stuff out so I can use the window as an escape route if I have to.

[....Said totally straight faced. They're only a few blocks away from the motel so it's short-ish walk over.]

[robitussin]

If it helps, I don't think anyone would try to break in your room. Too many people in the motel to hear or see a commotion if one broke out.

[But it's not a bad idea to have the windows clear all the same. As they approach the motel, she heads inside.]

[marmoron]

Depends how you approach the situation.

[Keith reaches for his key as they make their way into the motel lobby.]

Someone could just come knocking at the door and stab you repeatedly when you open it.

[Can you tell he's been having fun with these hypotheticals? He stops at Room #2 and turns the key in the lock.]

[robitussin]

[A pause; it's clear she wasn't expecting that, but she continues after a few moments.]

...And then everyone would hear you screaming and come to see what was happening, right?

[marmoron]

Heh. Hard to scream if you get your trachea slashed. Any good assassin would going for the neck.

[The door's being pushed open and Keith switches on the light. The boxpocalypse is real, Natalie. As in boxes piled up high, almost to the ceiling, boxes literally on his bed, with just a narrow path that's been cleared so you can go from the bed, bathroom and the door. Kid is quite possibly literally sleeping on boxes of knives.]

[robitussin]

...I get that you're all combat trained and stuff, but you seriously have to give me some warning before you start with that.

[She gives a surprised glance to the inside of his room, though, blinking.]

Okay, I get that you haven't had that much time out of jail, but... Jesus, dude.

*would be, mrr typing..

[marmoron]

I'll be quiet.

[Seeming fairly unperturbed, Keith walks right into the room, glancing around the armory. Each box is at least labelled with what's inside them, so finding the pepper spray isn't the hard part.]

There.

[Problem is it's sort ... in the middle of a stack by the door, sandwiched between "ammunition" and "camping supplies."]

Hold on, I'll get it. [He leaves the door open and starts lifting the top box up and out of the way.] What would you rather talk about?

[robitussin]

[She leans against the door frame as she watches him go to retrieve it. There's a slight pause when he asks what she'd like to talk about, but she goes with the first question that comes to mind.]

What's your home like?

[marmoron]

[Ah, so they're back to these types of more personal questions, huh. There's a brief pause, but Keith doesn't turn to look at Natalie. Next moment, he's pulled the top box down and sets it on the floor. He supposes he can't blame her for the curiosity.]

Probably filled with dust and cobwebs by now. I haven't exactly been home in three years.

[Not what she's getting at, he realizes, but he's generally a lot better with direct questions than open ended ones.]

[robitussin]

Oh.

[She continues on after a moment, her voice remaining mildly curious.]

Why's that?

[marmoron]

[He's grabbing the next box.]

Hard to make regular visits back home when you're fighting a war millions of light-years away.

[It's stated fairly matter-of-factly, like that's just... normal.]

[robitussin]

...Well, that sucks.

[A very large understatement.]

What were you fighting?