mwmtechs | ♥️♦️♣️♠️

WHO: Everybody
WHEN: Day 78, Post Game.
WHERE: @ Fallout Shelter ( for the winners ) & south of Twilight Lake, 6ft under ( for the losers )

WHAT:

[ Team ❤️ ( Jill, Ciaccona, Megumi, Monika ) & Team ♦️ ( Lyney, Mydei, Kaveh, Ratio ) & Team ♣️ ( Diluc, Jing Yuan, Lahabrea, Vil ) will all come to in a claustrophobic coffin six feet underground in the field that all of this craziness started in. you're still suffering from the hallucinations, paranoia, & honesty! which should definitely be a good time for somebody trapped in a wooden box. as for the necrosis, well, that seems to have taken care of itself... but once you're able to move and inspect yourself some more you'll find that you've got shrapnel from the collapsing bunker lodged in you. nothing fatal, but it's definitely painful and very likely bleeding. it can *only* be removed *with help*. you can't remove the pieces on your own. ]

[ Team ♠️ ( Brant, Aventurine, Castorice, Jayce ) & EVERYBODY ELSE will get a text message once the game ends with the coordinates of the woods that your friends are currently buried in. a follow-up simply says bring a shovel. this is probably confusing to those who didn't participate, but they'll find out what's what soon enough. ]

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[It was rather concerning waking up and not finding Vil in the house -- not because he thought he had overslept or anything like that, but because there hadn't been any noise or obviously disturbed belongings to denote a struggle. He had simply been spirited away. He tries not to fret, knowing that another game seemed likely. This would be the first time since arriving that he wasn't involved in a game. So he keeps himself busy rereading Vil's journal and listening to the animals near their place.

The ominous text makes his blood run cold. That meant... A killing game? In the woods. He's soon running, calling Vil's name as he approaches the coordinates.]

[ Rook's the only one who can have him lower his guard enough around to actually call to him- though he does knock still. ]

Over here, Rook! We're all here!

[ At least he can project his voice loudly enough. ]

[By now, others are digging their own people out, so Rook has no qualms looking specifically for Vil.]

Ah, to be buried alive?! Do not worry -- I will have you out soon! Save your breath!

[But what a cumbersome task, for digging through the earth and then having to get the lid uncovered enough to pull it off. It's certainly not pretty, even if it proves doable.]

[ He does have to save his breath because what he's hallucinating is making him hyperventilate too and he can't do that. Or risk using his magic in this state. ]

I'm here.. I'm hallucinating... so I can't- Please hurry!

[ And he's stuck with truth effect... ]

[Oh... Those words leave Rook speechless for a moment, but he's soon redoubling his effort, practically throwing himself on top of the coffin cover to get the rest of the dirt off. Then he's hauling off the cover to rescue Vil, face smudged with dirt and clothes understandably dusty.]

Vil! Are you all right?

[ He does grab the edges of the coffin when he sees Rook, but his eyes widen at him- there's shrapnel dug into his own skin and he can't tear his gaze away, before he starts to mutter- ]

It's not real- the blot isn't real... you're not hurt... You're fine, aren't you, Rook?

[He gasps at Vil's own state, already reaching to haul him out of the coffin as best he can. He has his hands on Vil's shoulders when his words really sink in, and his eyes flutter in surprise.]

Ah-- no, I am not hurt, Roi du Poison. I was not in any game today.

[Because he can only presume that's what all of this is for.]

Come, let me help you back to the house. Can you walk? I can carry you.

That's a relief...

[ With all this shrapnel in him, he is bleeding, though as he allows himself to be helped up, he reaches up to try and pull one of the pieces out and curses- ]

It's stuck... I'll need your help. But I can walk- just. Not right away. Everything hurts.

And I- I can't see anything clearly.

[ The fact that he's being so overly honest is probably telling something happened to him that's affecting his otherwise restrained words where it comes to his own troubles. ]

[Rook hesitates when Vil says that everything hurts, easing his hand away from the shrapnel piece and holding it while he inspects Vil for more shrapnel that will have to be immediately handled. They can do a better inspection back at the house.]

I'm not sure what there would be to report. There are others being pulled from graves. Many brought shovels, so we must have all received the same text.

[He stands on his knees so it's not uncomfortable as his wings emerge.]

If you can relax, I will numb your pain.

I see... I was with- Mr. Lahabrea, Mr. Jing Yuan and a young man named Diluc Ragnvindr. I recall Mr. Lahabrea was with you once... but we were in a room together, aiming to attack others in rooms... we didn't know who we were striking, though. We had to pick cards with certain values for damage. Our room was struck quite hard in return.

[ He is trying to keep himself calm despite the hallucinations, but when Rook makes his request, Vil nods. ]

Thank you. You may have to - pull these out of me. It's happened before- where we couldn't heal ourselves, but others could.

[He hadn't expected Vil to explain the game while he was still recovering -- there was a time for such things, and right after climbing out of a coffin seems like ill timing.]

Oui, I understand. So you had no idea if you were attacking someone you knew.

[Even as he speaks, he flaps his wings, sprinkling Vil with his dust.]

I will take care of the worst injuries now. Then we can work on getting back to the house.

[ This is a familiar kind of calm for the pain, and he falls silent for a bit. For now, he'll just find a log or something to sit on as the pain numbs- ]

... Thank you.

[ He finally exhales. ]

I'm glad - I wasn't striking at you. The last time we played anything similar, we could see others. And we were afflicted with ailments. Leona and I were trying to minimize as much damage to each other as we could...

...

... I can't seem to hold my words back.

[Referencing a past game holds Rook's attention, and he listens as he dismisses his wings to wait for Vil's pain to numb a little longer.]

Oh my. Is that one of the ailments for the game, then? Not being able to hold back your words?

[He sounds intrigued and slightly concerned; he knows that kind of loss of control could be frustrating for Vil and just serve to make him more tense.]

It is... it makes you speak your truths, no matter how much you'd want to hold them back.

[ It is frustrating but he also knows Rook would never take advantage of that. If anything, words released before him are safer than anyone else. ]

I'd rather it be you than anyone else, anyway. Having you here has helped me in more ways than I'll ever be able to express.

♥️♦️♣️♠️

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