guestcontrol: (Default)
DREAMLAND FUN PARK ([personal profile] guestcontrol) wrote2014-10-13 11:02 am
Entry tags:

killers - day nine

special guests day nine




10 players remaining.


This isn't quite usual, but it's the middle of the afternoon when you suddenly find yourself really wanting to check out the treehouse. You just know that you need to go there. Well, no one seems to be milling around, so it will be safe to head that direction.

When you reach the foot of the treehouse, a ladder has been dropped for you. Climb up and come inside. The interior of the treehouse has been made comfortable for you. There's an old map of the park on the wall, as well as the mounted and stuffed heads of cartoon animal costumes on the wall. The decor seems like something of a parody of an upscale hunting lodge, and you're welcome to sit by the fire and enjoy snacks from back home, or relax in one of the outdoor hammocks.

In the center of the room are several crates filled with weapons. Blades, guns, anything you can feasibly carry and use to kill.


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cheats: (stop asking)

[personal profile] cheats 2014-10-13 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
But—

[ He puts his other hand over his face, because he hates this feeling. He can't just let these thoughts slip away! Earlier today, there were too many, and now, he can't grasp onto a single thing. On the operating table last night, Oz had said things that were just because he didn't know any better, but...

Was it even a table? He hadn't been mopping the floor. It was that day brought back to life, and he had been the one to create it. Ciel is getting visibly upset, because he's fighting this feeling, but still, no matter how he tries to grasp onto those feeble threads of thought, he can't manage it. ]


Why does it have to be us? Why not someone else? Why don't they get it, so this doesn't feel like murder?
Edited 2014-10-13 23:08 (UTC)
ineptus: All icons by <user name="bureiku"> or <user name="kinam">! (33)

[personal profile] ineptus 2014-10-13 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's not sure if it would help, but Mabel moves to take his hand rather than leave it on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.]

Yeah...why can't they remember? We can! What's so special about us...?