Week 7

[airlockedmods]

[Well that weekend sucked. The Champions are down a dad and a bean and shrinking their numbers smaller and smaller, less and less.

There's no sign of life in the spaceport aside from PAL's omnipresent voice and SIS, the helpful asSIStant who has some control over certain heres and theres in the spaceport. She (and PAL) are available at all times and can appear anywhere if called. There is, however, a new floor to explore. Just hop in the elevator and pchoo.]


Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( Don't forget to check in, check your memory regains! and put in for item regains))

Comments

[motherfucking_ghost]

Just...just give it time, huh? Like a week, for someone else to die?

[nightcure]

[ And he stiffens at that, hand curling into a fist. ]

Putting words in my mouth isn't gonna help a damn thing.

[motherfucking_ghost]

I'm not, I--

[Whatever he's about to say, he can't anymore. His throat closes up, and he buries his face into his knees, shaking.]

[nightcure]

[ ah, fuck. Noctis hesitates, then--if Church'll let him--he crosses over and sets a hand on his shoulder. ]

... I'm sorry, Church. If you-- need anything, I'm here for you, alright?

[motherfucking_ghost]

[Like everything he does lately, the reply comes slow, groggy, through a sea of grief, struggling to break the surface, see the sun again.

He nods.]