Week 3

[airlockedmods]

Week 3

[Two weeks in, and all at once four people are dead. Chitose, Miki, Lucina, and Tsurugi - whatever the circumstances, however any of you may feel, their rooms are just as empty at the end of the week. If you check your P.I.P.s, you'll find that their pictures on the profile page have gone monochrome.

C.E.C.E.'s morning announcement comes like clockwork on Sunday. This time, though, there's an addendum to her usual message:]

Congratulations, Champions! By surviving your first trial, you have unlocked the second floor of the ship. A new mini map has been added to your P.I.P.! To access the second floor please stand on the teleporter and select the floor you wish to be teleported to.

[In addition to the new floor, the Champions will find that they've gained another memory this week.]


Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday



(( Welcome to Week 3! Don't forget to check in and submit your memory regains! Turn in your benefactor threads for sweet loot, too! ))

Comments

[photoshooter]

[Prompto was around on Saturday, often drifting after Max or Yuri like a sad, pale ghost, or checking on Lunafreya. It's hard for him to meet anyone's gaze or make much conversation, and he shies away from any loud conversation. He's here, but only barely.

On Sunday, he doesn't leave Room 13 at all.]

[in4apounding]

[Yeah, after all that Penny's just a little keyed into people disappearing wholesale. So sometime before lunch, Prompto's getting a concerned knock on his door.]

[photoshooter]

[...

...

Nope.

Maybe he's still sleeping?]

[in4apounding]

[Yeah, knocking harder. She is definitely not panicking a little.]

Prompto?

[photoshooter]

[Sorry, Pen. Still nothing.]

[in4apounding]

[Okay. She is still not panicking.]

[But it might sound like she's trying to break down the door a little.]

Mister Prompto!

[photoshooter]

[Wow okay fine THE DOOR OPENS AND--

Boy howdy, Prompto looks like shit. He's obviously still been crying, of course, red-eyed and grubby-faced, but he's so pale he looks a little green around the edges, too, and he's broken out in a cold sweat all over.

His voice has been reduced to almost nothing, just a squeaky whisper.]

D-don't...

[in4apounding]

[And she stops, mid-hammer.]

Oh no- Prompto, what in the world-?

[photoshooter]

[...

He's shaking.

Eventually, he turns away and rests his head against the wall inside the open door.]

Sorry. Don't... I don't feel great. Gonna stay in today...

[in4apounding]

You look terrible!

[Way to sugarcoat it, Penny.]

Do you need anything? Water? Um- soup? Soup is good for sick people, right? That diner thing on the new floor probably has soup, I can go get you some!

[photoshooter]

No--no, I.

[He starts to lift a hand to stop her, but as soon as he realizes he flinches and closes it into a fist, snatches it back like he's afraid to touch her.]

I, um. I. ...W-wouldn't keep it down. Don't worry about it.

[in4apounding]

[Well good news, she's probably the last person you need to worry about catching demon malaria.]

[Demon malware, maybe.]

Too late, I'm already worried. Sorry. Is there anything I CAN do?

[photoshooter]

[Star(tMenu)Scourge: the Y2K of 2K17]

...If anyone's looking for me, just... tell them I'm not feeling well. Please? ...I-I'm not up to talking.

[He could be sick, yes. Or he could have literally cried and screamed his throat raw, knowing these rooms are soundproof.]

[theundertaken]

[This seems like it's becoming some kind of awful routine, but Max isn't not gonna check in. Knock knock.]

[photoshooter]

[There's no answer.]

[theundertaken]

Prompto?

[wait can he even hear him through that door probably not

Max is just gonna go then, and return in a few minutes to slide a note under the door.]

Hey buddy, it's Max. You need food delivery?

[photoshooter]

[It takes a while either for Prompto to see the note or respond or both. Maybe he really is sleeping. But after maybe ten minutes, whether Max stays there the whole time or walks away for a while, the note slides back out with a penciled-in addition.]

Not hungry
thanks

[The letters are shaky, as if the hand might have been, too.]

[theundertaken]

Need anything?

[photoshooter]

No

[theundertaken]

OK
You're not alone, today's shit for everybody

[But yeah, if that's it, he'll go. It doesn't feel right, leaving Prompto alone, but he's not gonna batter the kid's door down.]

[photoshooter]

[...

Just as Max turns to go, the door opens, and Prompto peeks out, wrapped in a blanket and looking like microwaved shit.]

Did something... [His voice is gone, yo. He gulps.] Did anyone... is everyone...

[Did anyone else die today?]

[theundertaken]

[....oh. Max stops up short, brow furrowing in worry as he looks Prompto over.]

Yeah, no. Everyone's... [He glances down the quiet hall.] Seems like fine is a strong word, but nothing's happened.

[Nothing here, nothing that hadn't already.]

Those, uh. Those dreams, I think.

[photoshooter]

...They're not dreams.

[Even whispering that hurts.]

[theundertaken]

....yeah. Yeah, I know.

[Poor choice of words, maybe.]

[photoshooter]

I c-couldn't dream up something like that...

[He sways a little, steps back to catch himself.]

No wonder... Noct p-pushed me...