Week 7: May 13th - May 17th

[cartesio]

Seventh Week

The tense truce that had covered Cartesio was over. The town, feeling betrayed after having given a chance to the outsiders, pushed back. Enraged, they started getting even more daring, starting to get into the tourists' only safe haven: their motel rooms. They don't manage to break in, but it's not unusual to hear thumping on the doors, someone trying to get in. The windows are almost perpetually broken, there's so much graffiti on the ground floor of the motel, both inside and outside, it's hard to know what each one is saying. Can't be anything good, that's the only thing that's certain. The lounge's furniture has been tore to pieces, the lobby only has the guestbook intact, and the planters in middle of the motel are broken, the soil and plants strewn around.

The residents of Cartesio are near their breaking point. The despair, fury, and desire to get rid of the outsiders so everyone can return to their peaceful lives, have covered the town. It won't take long before they reach their breaking point, and if they do...what will happen to the visitors?

The Sergeant's grip on the town is total, and next week is the one marked as END. It seems like there's no way out, like the Sergeant won.

But you can't lose hope. You have to remember: now that you're on your darkest hour, the only way lef to go is upwards. Things can get better, you have to make it happen!

In the lobby of the motel there's a few more brochures, and the maps have been updated once again. Don't mind that some of them have been damaged in one of the attacks on the motel.

Links

IC Rules
Guestbook
Room Assignments
Events
Locations
NPCs
Activity Check

Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday

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

Comments

[robitussin]

I didn't say I thought you were trying to.

[marmoron]

Well good.

[A beat. Then he looks at her a second later, like even he's aware that this reply made no real sense, and just sighs.
He rubs the back of his neck, then looks back down at the ground, speaking through grit teeth.]

Look. They made a statue of me, alright?

[robitussin]

...Millium made a statue of you?

[Well, considering the embarrassment she knows Millium likes to inflict...]

I won't look if you don't want me to.

[marmoron]

Pretty sure it was all of them.

[The statue cannot have been a solo effort, gdit which is what makes the whole thing worse somehow. That there was just a conference of dead people hanging around spending time sculpting him in a loincloth. There are multiple levels of existential horror here, ok.

]]That said, he timidly glances up at her .... looking vaguely hopeful??]

...really?

[robitussin]

[She nods without much hesitation.]

It obviously bugs you. I'm not that much of an asshole.

[marmoron]

[There are no words for how relieved he feels right now. She can practically watch the tension slowly draining out of his body language.]

I just don't want to be around if you do.

[...and belatedly he will release her arm for the second time.]

[robitussin]

If I do, it will definitely never be mentioned.

[And that's honest enough.]

So. Breakfast?

[marmoron]

Breakfast.

[He can live with this outcome, sure. He'll resume walking away from the fort and statue feeling significantly less fidgety..]

[robitussin]

You think the bakery might start serving waffles now that the diner's been gone for a while...?

[marmoron]

Maybe?

[Do waffles count as baked goods though... He entertains the question for a few seconds then feels too inexplicably ridiculous for staying on this train of thought. It's an incredibly self conscious kind of day apparently.]

Waffles do sound good right about now.