MINGLE | WEEK FOUR

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MINGLE LOG | WEEK 4
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Another week gone, and with it, two of your number. Only eleven of you remain alive. And still, there is no escape. Or is there?

This week, something has changed. Something is different. Beginning Sunday, Pratibha is gone, and cannot be found or located at all. After Sunday's puzzle is solved, and the attic opened to you, you will see why. But what has happened? How has this happened? And why is the only other object there a strange mirror? Perhaps you should investigate.

On Monday morning, your motive quickly becomes apparent. Will you isolate yourself? Will you risk being around others? The choice, as ever, is yours.

On Tuesday, the week's second puzzle becomes available, and with its solving, the game room. If you wanted another way to unwind from all the stress, pressure, and uncertainty, at least there's this?

Come Wednesday, you may realize that at last you have full run of the house. Every room is available to you now. Nevertheless, you cannot run from the messages, which come thicker and faster than ever.

On Thursday, you may wish to visit the greenhouse. There is nothing there for you--including no mysterious messages, from the dead or otherwise. Should you wish for a reprieve, the greenhouse will grant it to you. That is, at least until curfew. Should you remain out of your room past that time, the messages will return, and they will be utterly inescapable no matter where you go--or if you are alone.

Friday is investigation time once again. The investigation post will go live at 3 PM EST, 5/30.

Saturday is the day of your fourth real ritual. The ritual post will go live at 12 PM EST, 6/1.

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday

code bases by tricklet

Comments

[windmilled]

[Luis is having his morning coffee, waiting for the toaster to pop up, when there's two knocks on the wall beside him. He looks over just in time to see words, scrawling themselves out in what almost looks like his own handwriting:

THEY DON'T SEE THE BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS.

He sets his coffee down and braces his shaking hands on the counter, as the scrawl continues:

WHAT WOULD THEY DO TO YOU IF THEY DID?]

[richesse]

Oh, enough.

[ Visibly annoyed, Lortel goes to get a cloth to wipe the words off the wall. ]

This is absurd. It’s the basest form of manipulation. Why wouldn’t we assume it was just lying to us?

[ it’s not as if she didn’t see his shaking hands—enough to know the truth of it.

she just doesn’t care. ]

[windmilled]

[Luis is thankful for the time it takes her to grab a cloth, even if he wished she'd never had to see it at all.

By the time she comes back, he runs a hand through his hair, trying to shake it off with a fragment of her confidence.]

I'm afraid it's not saying anything I don't already know.

[He's trusting her with it solely because - until last week - she saw him morning and night the whole time they'd been trapped here.]

[richesse]

I know. Aqua and I both got … well.

[ Nevertheless, she and her cloth get to work on the wall, scrubbing his sins away. ]

It doesn’t change my opinion of you. I refuse to be the fool who falls for such petty tricks, true or not.

[ she turns to him, and there is a flinty fierceness in her. ]

Who among us has hands that are truly clean? I don’t care about that. I care about the person you’ve shown yourself to be for the last few weeks. That’s all there is to it.

[ she seems almost angry, but finally relents with a sigh. ]

I have to be a good judge of character in my … line of work. Whatever your reasons… [ shrugs ] I see a good man.

1/2

[windmilled]

[For a brief moment, Luis' expression flashes raw and open, as if he's been slapped.]

2/2

[windmilled]

[But then he smiles, ducking his head, and leans against the counter.]

...I hope you're right.

[But he can't shake the feeling that a good man would be able to do something. He can feel cowardice nipping at his heels, forcing him to dance like a court jester.

He'll believe it when he sees it.]

I would hate to disappoint, after all.

[richesse]

[ Ah.

That had an effect. She’s not sure how to feel about that. That what she said—in whatever way—mattered.

She’s used to striking people down, not trying to lift them up. ]

And I hate to be disappointed, [ she returns, with a barely there smile. ] I’m sure you’ll do well.

[windmilled]

[*Luis will remember this.]

Thank you, Lortel.

...While you're here, are you free to lend me a hand with something? I'm afraid it needs a lady's touch.

[richesse]

Mhm. [ as easy as that. ]

Oh? Of course. What is it?

[windmilled]

[Luis looks down at the counter, fingers tracing the grains of the granite countertop.]

I want to go back up to the attic. Clean her up, you know. However, there's only so much that would be appropriate for me to do.

[As a technically unrelated adult man, no matter how pure his intentions.]

1/2

[richesse]

[ ! ]

[richesse]

Of course, [ she tells him, sighing. ] I never really spoke to her. I suppose it’s the least I can do.

[windmilled]

[Luis smiles gratefully, getting down a deep bowl and filling it about halfway with water.]

I appreciate it. I know there were others she was closer to, but...I think Anemone has had a hard enough time.

[richesse]

I’ve never been particularly squeamish.

[ … ]

And I’d like to see Anemone rest, too, [ she admits. ]

[selfreliar]

[Aqua, who has had to rebrew an extra cup of coffee for himself, notices the message and looks...

Irritated. For once, the offense is fairly clear to read from his face. The house is going after Luis? Their kind and friendly ex-roommate, who gathers them together, boosts morale, and plays songs for the dead?]

Help you wash up and ask where you're hurt, probably.

[He takes his waiting coffee and puts dish soap on a sponge one-handed.]

[windmilled]

[Luis's shoulders relax.]

You're too good to me.

[Beat.]

But I think it's speaking metaphorically.

[selfreliar]

[A beat.]

I know.

[He goes over to the affected wall, sips his coffee, and works at washing the message off.]

But this kind of thing really pisses me off.

[windmilled]

It's nothing I haven't told myself a thousand times.

[He says it quietly, more to himself than to Aqua, even as he watches the boy try and scrub away the words.]

...Do you really think it's that easy?

[selfreliar]

No. Feelings like that stick your whole life, or longer.

[Scars don't come off with dish soap. The ink on the wall, however, does start to fade. Aqua keeps scrubbing.]

But I can at least clean this up.

[windmilled]

[Luis huffs out a sound that's almost a laugh.]

I mean, do you think it's that easy for someone to change?

[selfreliar]

[Pausing, Aqua looks back at him, something else besides badly bottled pique beneath the usual stillness of his gaze. He gives the question a serious moment of thought.]

...No. It's difficult... and inevitable.

[The first line disappears beneath the sponge, and Aqua starts working on the second.]

We're always learning. We're always changing. It's... impossible to change what's already happened or who we are because of it.

But we do everything we can in the future not to hurt like we did in the past.

[windmilled]

[Luis is quiet for a long moment. But then, the sink starts to run, and Luis comes up beside Aqua and starts scrubbing alongside him.]

I'm... not used to the kindness that everyone here has shown me here. Even Leon judged me - rightfully - when we first met.

But, thank you.

[selfreliar]

...Well, that's the thing about showing up eighty percent dead. You were all kind to me first.

[For Aqua, there was never any question of not repaying that as he could.]