[not again] catchall for ump45

[fishingforcompliments]

Comments

w0, monday

[fishingforcompliments]

[Hello, 45! Here's Flayn, digging through the supplies in the metal shed near the sports court. She looks a little confused by some of the balls and equipment she's finding.

When she sees 45 nearby, she calls out.]

Excuse me! I do not suppose you know what these are?

[She's holding up a pair of tennis balls.]

[recrypt]

[ do you know how badly I wanted to have her lie and say something completely off the wall. but no, they're roomies, and flayn is soft. ]

Oh, those? They're tennis balls.

[fishingforcompliments]

[WAILS. i'm missing out on 45 being a gremlin, clearly flayn needs to be less soft.]

I see! What sort of game is tennis?

w1, thursday

[fishingforcompliments]

[well, back in ant cabin. we're just going to say the others are busy. steph's working on lili's injuries, so!

at any rate, flayn's kind of regretting choosing a top bunk! because she sure can't climb up there right now. but she grabs a pillow and sets it against the wall, then settles down against it, sighing heavily.]

...well, that was thoroughly unpleasant.

[recrypt]

These sorts of things often tend to be, unfortunately. If pattern holds, it's only going to get worse.

[ peers over at. she's not concerned in the least, why would you say that? ]

Doing okay there? Saying that your wound reopened doesn't really tell us anything about how much blood you might or might not have lost, and I'm not about to bother you if you just want to take a nap or something.

[fishingforcompliments]

I lost quite a bit of blood, I believe, but... I shall survive it. I have had worse.

[she keeps saying that because it's true, but, yikes.]

...perhaps it might be wise to take a nap, but I would rather not sleep.

w1, saturday

[fishingforcompliments]

[sup, 45. flayn hasn't quite made it back to the cabin - she's sitting at one of the benches at the bonfire, staring into the flames and contemplating how badly they all messed up today.]

[recrypt]

... You're not going to find any answers in the flames, Flayn.

[ comes the voice from behind, as 45 settles onto a nearby bench. ]

[fishingforcompliments]

[ah... there she is. flayn glances at 45 for a moment, then looks back to the bonfire.]

...I know. I am trying to order my thoughts, but... it is difficult.

w2, friday

[fishingforcompliments]

[flayn looks unhappy! but, like, who isn't? a man is dead.

she also seems to be deep in thought as she walks back from the lake. hopefully 45 is paying attention to who's in front of her, because uh, flayn isn't.]

[recrypt]

[ no, she's entirely zonked out from breakin nonsense so down they go



i wish, but no, 45 will politely sidestep and follow along, since it seems they're headed in the same direction. though, she does seem ... as tired as a roomba ever seems to get, i suppose.

her smile does seem a lot more wan than usual, though. ]

You seem troubled.

[fishingforcompliments]

[she looks up, then absentmindedly reaches over to pat 45 on the head]

Well... yes. I suppose we should all be accustomed to... the way the weeks end by now, but. [ugh.] ...you seem weary, 45.

w3, monday

[fishingforcompliments]

[IT'S MEMSHARE TIME.




gimme 45's deep, forbidden lore first. here, i'll start. when flayn runs into 45 that morning (maybe they haven't even left the cabin yet?), she turns to her to greet her and makes eye contact. TIME FOR CHAOS.]

[recrypt]

[ jesus fuck britt you just really want to jump into the deep end of the pool huh

it's a broken memory, fragmented and staticky- details flickering every now and then as if corrupted somehow, but the most important portions vividly intact. the middle of a ruined factory, smoke in the air and blood on the walls, signs and sounds of recent fighting obvious both in the near vicinity and in the distance.

45, for her part, is very still, betraying no reaction as of yet. ]

[fishingforcompliments]

[CANNONBALL. or canonball, as it were. haha.

but that's a lot. it's definitely a lot to take in, but more than that - it must have been so difficult to experience firsthand. flayn doesn't know what she would do, were she in that situation. it's almost too painful even begin to imagine.

for 45 to have lived it - to have gone through it... it's just a memory now. is it her last memory before she came to the mansion, and then to this place, or...?]

45...?

FRIDAY, w3 after uh. a lot;

[recrypt]

[ hi roomie. 45 makes it back to the cabin relatively late, movements oddly affected and stiff.

she also seems distracted, as if of half a mind to go right back outside into the cold. ]

[fishingforcompliments]

[flayn is. wrapped up in a blanket in the cabin, but she seems to be wearing something other than what she normally wears? there's a bit of dark fabric peeking out from under her blanket.

or maybe it's, like, just another blanket.

she's also got a teapot, a teacup, and a whole bag of sugar with her. it's fine.]

...45? Are you okay?

[recrypt]

I feel the incessant need to go make more snowmen.

[ is that okay. ]

Also, I would not recommend sleeping in the lakeside cabin in these temperatures.

w4, saturday

[fishingforcompliments]

[45 has easymode for finding flayn that night, because she can just let herself right into amt cabin. she wasn't planning to answer the door, but 45 doesn't need her to! she has a key!



anyway, she's in her bunk, her back to the door, staring at the wall.

sup, cabinmate.]

[recrypt]

[ flayn is a mood, honestly. but 45 sweeps in, eventually, later that night, and she barely spares flayn much of a glance before easing herself into her bunk to.

sit down, apparently, and stare into nothing.

... tonelessly, she eventually says: ]

We didn't solve a single damn thing.

[fishingforcompliments]

[...thanks! she needed that reminder!

flayn pulls her pillow over her face (disturbing the stitches on her face, just a little) to groan into it.]

w5, tuesday

[fishingforcompliments]

[enter the music room! flayn's looking around - and when she spots 45 wherever she is here, she'll head right on over.]

Excuse me - do you have a moment?

[she's looking her over carefully, trying to spot her scrunchie! i assume it's in her hair but i've been wrong before so where's it at, my dude.]

[recrypt]

[ she's settled down at one of the seats reading through a book of some sort, it looks like, but she glances up when flayn comes over. flayn looking for the scrunchie is probably a good idea, because it. actually does change up, some days.

in fact, her hair's down today; with the magic power of picrew she looks closer to this on account of the weather, actually, albeit with her usual waist bag and thigh pouch rather than the messenger bag there, and full stockings rather than just below the knee socks like in that picture. and of course scar, which a lot of picrews don't give you the option of for some mysterious reason, gee.

it doesn't look like her scrunchie is immediately visible. probably hidden by the layers somewhere? ]

I suppose?

Is there something I can help you with, Flayn?

w5, saturday

[fishingforcompliments]

[hello, cabinmate...

i'm leaving this up to you to determine whether or not it's before or after the group convo, but either way, flayn is. very, very upset. it's written all over her face, which is about as obvious as it's going to get.

because she doesn't seem to be able to speak a word.]

plurk did not notify me, thanks

[recrypt]

[ it was obvious during trial too, but she wasn't about to say anything. let's pretend this is before the group drinking session i guess.

after some time, she hums, a long, drawn out note. ]

Well. I'm not sure anyone would have quite foreseen that, prior to the last few moments of trial.