Mock Week

[sinphony]

[ After the day before, with the reveal of the full extent of the rules and how the game works along with their hosts, the only thing everyone could do was have a meeting with alcohol and go to bed. And when awakened, everything is the same. It's still the large mansion, they're still locked inside, and there's still the idea that they have the choice to murder each other hanging over them. But now the mansion is free to explore to their hearts' content, save for the room under the stairs outside the mud room. All anyone can really do is just enjoy their week and hope for the best. ]

Comments

[mementodagger]

[Yurick had watched the post-motive meeting from the shadows, not approaching or even really letting himself be spotted by anyone. He was there to glean information about the strangers trapped here with him, not to offer insight or reassurance. Now he's drifting from location to location, seeing who might be alone, who might be vulnerable, who might be the most distracted. He peers into rooms and if he sees more than one person, he will slip away without a word. All those people might catch is a glimpse of the fluttering edge of a dark cloak, and only if they're looking toward the door at that instant.

If you're alone, you might see the briefest glimpse of a pretty youth with an eye patch, watching you with a cold, emotionless stare before he's gone. Rushing to the door may or may not work, he's fast and agile, likely to vanish into a room or down another corridor before he can be caught. If you do manage to catch him, brace yourself for a cold personality and few words.]

[pervet]

[ Um excuse you, you're not getting away sir. Especially because after seeing just a flash of that hair, Sherbet is panicking a little. Gonna try to catch up to you. And he can run pretty decently fast. He's very in shape. ]

W-wait!

[mementodagger]

[You'll have to chase him around the corner, Sherbet. By the time you catch up, he's standing there, completely enveloped in the cloak from neck to ankles so you can't see his hands. One of them is on the hilt of his dagger under there, in fact. The expression on his face is anything but welcoming.]

What. [Oh dear, that's a flat, irritated tone of voice. Yurick is pretty short and slight, but makes up for it with a somewhat intimidating presence.]

[pervet]

[ Oh god the demeanor is even the same. For a fleeting moment, he stares at him, but his hand falls to his side. The eyepatch is new--and he's lacking the halo and wings but... this person could be a dead-ringer for his superior. The Head Angel. ]

... Sorry. You just... really look a lot like someone I know.

[mementodagger]

Hmph.

[That's all, just a quiet, derisive huff. He's still staring down the other with that piercing one-eyed glare, like he's trying to set Sherbet on fire just by willpower alone.

Either that or he's sizing the blond up like a rabbit sighted by a wolf.]

[pervet]

[ God why must you remind him so much of Wodahs, that piercing terrifying gaze is even the same. He's fumbling a little over himself right now, honestly. ]

U-uh... why haven't you spoken to anyone?

[mementodagger]

[Yurick doesn't say anything for a long time. He barely even blinks as he stares down the blond. Finally, he shifts his weight slightly from one foot to the other, never breaking his gaze.]

What reason would I have to do so? I don't know any of you. You could all be enemies.

[He's a mercenary. Anyone outside his team is a potential enemy.]

[pervet]

... Yeah, but that's true practically anywhere. And like it or not, we're all in the same situation.

[ He doesn't usually work well with others either, but, y'know... here is different. ]

You'll have to talk to the others at some point.

[mementodagger]

So you say. I've managed well enough on my own for the last few days.

[Yurick's eye narrows slightly.]

And if no one knows I'm here, they can't exactly make an attempt on my life.

[pervet]

Our gracious "hosts" would probably tell people about you eventually.

[ He's just saying. ]

[mementodagger]

[Now Yurick's lips press into a thin, pale line.]

It doesn't matter. I'm not much of a social butterfly, either. Even without the threat of murder hanging over my head.

[pervet]

... You don't have to be, I guess.

[ Definitely reminds him of Wodahs... ]

But I don't think it would hurt you.

[mementodagger]

You don't think? Hn. Yes, clearly you don't.

[Wow, someone's a bit of a jerkass.]

They're offering us our greatest wish. If you believe no one here would kill for that, then you're truly a fool.

[pervet]

I never said I didn't believe that.

[ Eyeroll. ]

But the others are right about one thing: it doesn't really do us much good to be separated. If someone went to kill you, you'd be on your own.

[mementodagger]

And trusting strangers would be like presenting my back to an assassin and begging for a knife between my shoulder blades. I can handle myself just fine.

[Not really, without his magic, but like hell he's going to tell anybody that.]

[pervet]

[ If he rolled his eyes any harder, he just might hurt himself. ]

So you'd rather creep around in the shadows? People will get real suspicious of that.

[mementodagger]

....

[If their "hosts" do reveal his presence, it does place him at risk. Of course, there's those damned profiles as well. He hadn't considered those to be much of a problem until now. How many people have noticed the pale-haired, one-eyed young man from the picture hasn't really been seen around since this all started?

Now he looks vaguely uncomfortable.]

... damn.

[pervet]

Look, it's not like anyone's asking you to be talking to everyone all the time or anything, it just probably would help if you at least hung out in places other people do a bit more, I think. It's not like they're not defensible if you keep your back to a wall.

[ He feels like he helped... maybe? ]

[mementodagger]

[That's a lot of quiet grumbling coming from Yurick, including a few curse words. Under the cloak, he's still clutching his dagger.]

... fine, whatever. Just... don't draw attention to me, got it?

[And with that, he turns on his heel and starts to storm off.]