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]

...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.

[robitussin]

Wait, why would he think that I think I'm his...

[She sounds surprised, even confused, before she realizes why.]

He has no concept of sarcasm, I swear to god. Or like, jokes, apparently.

[amburere]

Ha, I figured. S'ok, I told him I know I'm really his favorite.

[robitussin]

Awesome. Thanks for setting the record straight on that one.

[A pause.]

...Why were you both talking about me, though?

[amburere]

No problem. [ Self assured grin. ]

He brought you up 'cause he said he was tired of hearing 'bout being the favorite from you. If he was really being nosy he would have asked me what makes you tick too.

[robitussin]

[A snort.]

Right. As if you would be able to tell him that.

[amburere]

'bout you? No. [ That he knows more about others is implied. ]

[robitussin]

[She catches that implication, and so when she continues, it's with:]

About who, then?

[amburere]

The brat and Hawks. [ The only time Bakugou deserves his actual name is when Dabi offered to kill Clarisse, rip. ]

[robitussin]

Yeah? And what would your answer have been?

[amburere]

Info 'bout the brat is free, Hawks isn't.

[ Hmm, where to start. ]

Did'ya know he won a major competition, but had to be forcibly tied and gagged to even get him on the podium? Brat's pride is bigger than almost all the other heroes combined. If you ever want to get at 'im, that's the easiest way to do it.

[robitussin]

...Wait, why would it hurt his pride if he won?

[amburere]

'Cause his opponent went easy on him.

[robitussin]

Oh.

[She pauses, then nods.]

Okay, yeah, I can see why he'd be pissed. Still, though, they seriously tied him up and forced him on stage? That's fucked up.

[amburere]

That's hero society for ya! National broadcoast and all of that. [ Cause this is fine. ]

[robitussin]

...Okay, but don't get me wrong, it's marginally less fucked up than throwing corpses around. I just want to go on record and say that.

[She has priorities, or something.]

[amburere]

And burning 'em to ashes? [ Throwing them is tme. ]

[robitussin]

Yes! Both of those things! Actually, let's just throw a blanket statement for everything that involves murder, okay?

[amburere]

No fun. [ But sure, sure. Amusement carries in his tone, but it could just be the mood, alcohol, or that he's distracted. They've been talking for a while now, and he's had a small ember in his left hand the entire time. With his thoughts drifting, he finally remembers to snuff the flame out.

On another day he wouldn't have let it burn this long, for good reason. He does his best to hide it, palm closed, but he sure is bleeding from where the staples on his hand meet his scars. ]

[robitussin]

[She notices the flame go out, and so she spots the bleeding; there's a momentary pause of surprise, but then she moves forward to reach for it instinctively.]

...You're bleeding.

[amburere]

[ He pulls back, but he doesn't actually startle that much. ]

Yeah, and?

[robitussin]

[She pulls back as he does, but she doesn't stop glancing towards his hand.]

We should at least wipe it off.

[Just some more of that thing which is definitely not concern.]