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bluesclues2020-03-29 10:11 pm
cluedin) wrote in bluesclues2020-03-29 10:11 pm
Entry tags:
WEEK SIX: MINGLE
WEEK SIX
OCCUPANCY: . . .
Rise and shine, little monsters. A new week is waiting just for you. The events of yesterday may have been hard to stomach, but time heals all wounds, after all. The damages the house has incurred over the last week have been reverted and the staff is hard at work fulfilling their roles in this mansion. A piping hot breakfast is served in the dining room promptly at 7am, every square inch of floor and furniture has been cleaned spotless, and Pumpkin is...probably around tending to the animals outside. As you exit your rooms on this lovely morning...
...a silence lays over the house.
For anyone who ventures into the ballroom, a new change may become apparent. Should you choose to look at the plaques, those of the dead have gone blank. The images that were once there have been covered, though the information is still there.
Additionally, the house rules have been removed.
Odd, isn't it? Where are those strange effects you've grown accustom to over the last several weeks in this house? Your body is as it should be (except for those of you who have lost limbs...you know who you are...), your mind is sound and stable, and there are no strange urges or instincts arising within you.
The mansion is in prime condition. All of the rooms (except for Master Blue's and the servants' quarters) are unlocked, and nothing seems out of place. Perhaps you'll have a chance to relax this morning?
Well, it was nice while it lasted anyway. Come Monday at noon a rustling crackle of static can be heard from overhead. Try as you might, you won't be able to find the speakers but a message will play loud and clear for all.
locations 🐾 ic profiles 🐾 murder proposals 🐾 audience requests 🐾 statuses 🐾 private conversations
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She's a mess. She's an utter mess. But she's whole.
It's when she spots him that she feels her chest tighten. She had feared a body. But he's upright, he's looking around, he isn't bleeding profusely or screaming in pain... and he's alive.
It takes her legs a moment to move, glued to the spot. But once she gets going, Luna doesn't stop. Not until she practically knocks Akira over from where he sits on the floor, arms wrapping around his shoulders and burying her face against him.
He's alive. He's alive.]
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[she's alive]
[she's alive, and for right now, that's enough. for right now. . . he can breathe]
L--
[he doesn't even get to pronounce the first syllable of her name before she barrels towards him, before he instinctively lifts his arms to catch her, even though the impact sends him sprawling on his back]
[he's getting blood on her clothing. for that, he'll apologize later. but for now? his fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt as he too buries his face against the top of her head, as he too pulls her as close as he can, as he too tries to stop his entire body from trembling]
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She doesn't say a word. She doesn't know if she could. Her hands grip his back as though he might evaporate underneath her, the warmth of tears start to dot his shirt, tired and stressed and horrifically relieved.
Thank goodness. Thank goodness.]
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[there's relief flooding through him as well, and until she makes a move to pull back, he isn't going to let go]
[he doesn't want to let go]
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I-I... I'm so sorry, I--
Y-your glasses...
[Her fingers shake as she pulls at the twine around her neck, slipping the frames out from under her shirt. One of the lenses has been thoroughly smashed.]
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[. . .]
[he feels his heart thud rapidly in his chest, and has to swallow down the urge to do more.]
What?
[he's so focused on her, on the brightness of her expression, on that smile, that it takes him a moment to remember that she was holding his glasses. and when he does, his gaze flickers down, taking in the shattered lens and bent frame]
[. . . he laughs a little, a short, breathless exhale of air]
Oh. . . those. It's okay.
[he drops one hand to his neck, tugging on a piece of cord to pull her birdcage pendant out from under his shirt]
I didn't need them, anyway.
[FASHION GLASSES]
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[Ah... And there's her necklace. Her eyes soften, though there's something pained and hard to place in the look.]
I don't think we're truly done yet. Perhaps closer than we've ever been, but... I think there's still a little more we have to do for everyone.
Could... Could I ask you to hold onto it just a little longer?
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. . . yeah. Of course.
[his fingers close around the pendant again, his grip knuckle-white]
I'll give it back to you once we cross that finish line. I promise.
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[She'll look him over again, that difficult expression flickering back to her face. His words are still fresh on her heart, the wounds still aching, and the warmth that she feels even now seems like it should be out of place. It still hurts, and it shows.
At the very least, her smile doesn't disappear. It only saddens, a worn weight to how her eyes lower, leaning into the touch of his hand. She... had to think about some things. They needed to talk, away from the loom of death and the eyes of a room filled with people both alive and dead. But... it didn't change that this still felt just as nice as it had days before, even if her chest clenched at the mix of emotions it brought.
With a pained sigh, she brings her hand to rest against his.]
...I... I'm sorry. I know this is selfish of me, but... I'd like to ask you something else.
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[he opens his mouth to answer her-- of course I will-- and to offer her the option of keeping his glasses in return. but before he can. . .]
[her hand comes to rest against his, fingers brushing against his knuckles, and he feels another jolt of electricity course down his arm as his breath catches in his throat for what feels like the umpteenth time in her presence]
-- of course.
[he breathes out those words quickly, emphatically]
You can ask me anything.
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...
I... I think a lot would have been avoided had I asked this to begin with, instead of... [Instead of jumping into things. Instead of... mistakes. Hahah. Ah, mistakes.
She'll just trail off awkwardly, her fingers lightly curling against his hand.] So. Um...
Could... could I ask you properly this time?
Would you kiss me?
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[. . .]
[but he does pause after she asks him that, likely to allow the words to sink in. he's studying her expression extremely carefully, looking for any signs of hesitancy or uncertainty. there's a bit of it there-- how could there not be, considering what happened last time?-- but]
[. . .]
[he huffs, and both of his hands return to her cheeks, his mouth quirking upwards into a very fond, very smitten smile]
Of course.
[and with that. . . he tugs her downward in the same motion he pushes himself up, catching her lips with his own, lingering in a kiss that is all-too chaste and sweet]
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much nicer.
It doesn't last for very long, her eyes drifting shut and letting him take the lead. She still has no idea what she's doing, and they're still in front of the ENTIRE MURDER HOUSE. But the heat of embarrassment and the cold grip of shame that followed, the horrible things that had colored their first kiss with emotions that she still had to sort through... it's nowhere to be found now.
This is what she wanted. Right here. It's such a warm moment, so unbearably simple.
It... hurts a little. To have been denied this over something so...
So, so stupid.]
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[. . .]
[it's. . . nice]
[it's so, so nice, and he thinks he was so, so stupid for ruining this for them the first time. that part aches a bit as well. . . but it's an ache he shoves aside to focus on her and this instead]
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It's a short moment, delicate and exploratory, but one that she doesn't have enough bravery to pursue right this second, nor does she enjoy the clash of thoughts that rises up when she finds herself wanting this to continue.
...
She'll slowly halt with a soft exhale against his lips, pulling herself away while still letting their foreheads touch, her eyes still closed.
There's something she wants to say, to ask, while the emotion is there. She wants to know. But... that's not for the crowd. That's for somewhere private, somewhere else, some time that isn't shrouded in confusion and stress.
She leans back a bit more, only to place a hand against the crook of his neck and another at his jawline, that same sad smile on her face.]
I... can't give you your answer yet. I'm sorry.
Take care of what I gave you. I... I want to hope I know what to tell you when it's time for me to take it back.
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[she pulls away, and Akira lets out a sharp, almost protesting breath when she does so. he doesn't open his eyes, instead allowing the memory of her lips on his to linger in the forefront of his mind. he doesn't move his hands away from her cheeks either. . . but a shaky exhale escapes his lips when her fingers brush up against his neck and jawline]
[focus]
. . . it's okay.
[his voice is a bit hoarse, a bit distant, clearly extremely moved by the moment. but he finally opens his eyes to smile at her, a bit rueful and lopsided]
It's okay. Take all the time you need.
In the meantime. . . I'll protect it with everything I have.
[and he knows that she'll continue to do the same. with his glasses, of course]