WEEK SEVEN

[lockdownmods]

[Week seven is here. Surely the course is drawing to a close soon? There are more places to explore, and there can't be that much more going on but...

The wall is actually very ominous now, like something has been awakened. The field is almost impossible to be near, that's how oppressive the wall is around it. There are also physical signs of darkness dotting the wall.

Welcome, you're almost near the end.]

LOCATIONS | PROFILES | HAN OFFICE HOURS | MEGUMI OFFICE HOURS

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

Comments

[swordsinternally]

It's something she dropped that I had on my person before. It's just... kind of sad.

[blackcatintheruemorgue]

.... You don't have to share the context with me if you don't want to.

[He's curious, but he won't pry if it'd upset Tsukasa.]

[swordsinternally]

It's fine, it's not like... there's not really much context to tell. It's more like, I miss her. But I also have to set her free from being my Master.

[blackcatintheruemorgue]

Ah... so it's just a reminder then?

[They've entered the dorm and Poe's heading toward his room now.]

[swordsinternally]

Yeah. But it gives me motivation. I need to return this to her.

[blackcatintheruemorgue]

That's as good a motivation as any.

[He opens his door and enters the room. He doesn't bother turning on the lights after he opens the door to his room. It's already lit just enough to write and not trip over anything with string lights shaped like music notes. His room is neat and organized. All the vendor trash he doesn't want to keep is organized off to the side of his room, while most of what he does plan to keep is organized on his desk alongside a few stacks of short stories, a few prototype manuscripts, and the bowl with Enki, Super Galaxy Dai-Gurren, and the short letter Poe wrote in it. A fuzzy carpet is laid out in the middle of the room and Replica Karl is on Poe's bed.

It only takes him a few seconds to go over and pick up the rolled up string light's he's not using. They're pineapple shaped.]

I... hope that you are alright with pineapples.

[swordsinternally]

I'm not allergic.

[ It's a joke.


Or at least, he's trying to make it into one as he finds himself laughing. ]

[blackcatintheruemorgue]

[There's a small huff of laughter that slips out of Poe as holds out the string lights.]

It'd be a rather ironic death if you were. The chef dies by food allergy.

[swordsinternally]

Haah... yeah, thankfully I'm not allergic to anything.

[blackcatintheruemorgue]

That's good. No one needs more potential ways to die to worry about here.

[swordsinternally]

Yeah, that probably would be pretty bad.

[blackcatintheruemorgue]

.... At least it's almost over.

[Based on when they said mid-terms were at least.]

[swordsinternally]

Yeah. It really is almost over.

[blackcatintheruemorgue]

I... can only wonder what exactly will happen once we've made it to the end of this. I.. have theories... but none of them are pleasant.