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

[amburere]

Sure. [ Another sip and a gesture with the bourbon. C'mon now, show him his faith isn't misplaced. Or something. ]

[robitussin]

[She sighs, crossing her arms as that flat stare continues.]

Okay, but what if I didn't give you ideas for stupid and destructive shit to do when you're clearly not in a great place?

[amburere]

[ Still smirking, and it carries across his tone. ]

Then I'd be really disappointed in you, Natalie.

[robitussin]

Tragic.

[It's incredibly deadpan, but her voice gets a bit more sincere as she continues.]

I can handle disappointment if it increases the chances that you aren't going to do something idiotic.

[amburere]

[ His smile drops and he sits up a bit straighter, setting the bottle down. ]

Right, right. More of that "not concern" of yours. I'll save you 'nother 5 minutes: a wannabe villain could never force me to do shit.

[robitussin]

[She falls silent for a moment, clearly trying to stop herself from getting angry, before she speaks.]

Who, the Sergeant? Or someone he brought up in your letter?

[amburere]

[ There's something funny about her question apparently, and he stifles a laugh. ]

The Sarge.  [ Small embers of flame briefly flicker to life along his arms before extinguishing a few seconds later. And back to the bourbon again, seems like. ]

[robitussin]

Not sure I would call him a wannabe villain. Underestimating him probably isn't the best plan.

[She hesitates for another moment, though, before:]

Mind if I sit?

[amburere]

He wouldn't make the cut for the league. [ So close enough, really. He tips his chin up at her question then shrugs. Go ahead, he's had far worse company today. ]

[robitussin]

There are other villains who aren't in your weird child kidnapping club, right?

[But at his motion, she does just that and takes a seat.]

You wouldn't rather be, like, drinking in the tavern or whatever? It's freezing out here.

[amburere]

League of Villains. [ Not a club! But he gives a low nn of agreement. Humans and villains came in varying sizes, power, and reputation.

To her question, he shoots her a look. That's just begging for a demonstration in how hot his quirk can run. Unlike before fire blossoms from his shoulder down to his arms stopping just short of his hands. They're tiny embers and not a proper flame, but it's still enough to make it feel like a sweltering summer day. ]

[robitussin]

League of villains, club of child kidnappers, close enough.

[She watches as the flames shoot across his arms, interest clear.]

...I guess that could come in handy in times like this, yeah.

[amburere]

[ On another night he'd argue that point, but tonight the alcohol makes it easier not to bother. ]

Got any other complaints?

[robitussin]

[A snort.]

What, about you, or in general?

[amburere]

Whichever. [ Quelling the flames a bit, they flicker lazily on his scarred skin. ]

[robitussin]

Whichever, you say. As if I'm going to just sit right next to you and tell you all the complaints I have about you as a person.

[An amused noise.]

I have many general complaints, but I'm pretty sure they're the same ones everybody else has.

[amburere]

[ That earns her a brief smirk. ]

Try me. Most people have a problem with killing and I don't.

[robitussin]

[A smirk.]

Well, that's completely fucked up. Anyways! You want them in chronological order, or from most to least distressing?

[Her tone isn't serious, at least.]

[amburere]

[ ..... ]

Most to least.

[robitussin]

[Hm. She gives a thoughtful hum, and instead of sitting, she shifts so she's laying, back flat on the grass. Instead of a straight answer, he gets a question:]

What do you think is the reason we were all brought here? Like, not why anyone was brought here. Why us, specifically.

[amburere]

'unno. [ It might seem like he's gonna leave her with that unsatisfactory answer, but then he speaks up again. ]

He's got an interest in some of us more than others.

[robitussin]

...Yeah? Have you noticed anyone in particular he's more interested in?

[amburere]

Y'know, I could give you the same answer I gave him. [ That's not a no, which is something. Pointedly he's not looking over at her, but at the lone lit ember on his left arm. ]

[robitussin]

Or you could be helpful and tell me, because every piece of information we get here brings us one step closer to getting home.

[amburere]

I don't do good in big groups. [ Which is to say there is no "we" here as far as most of the other visitors are concerned. Still playing with the flame, he continues. ]

You want information we can swap. He told me you think your his favorite.