So are we just not going to talk about the fact that this place is suddenly a lot less dangerous?

[Asagi sighs, and shrugs, leaning back in her chair as she always is.]

Alright then, let's talk about something else.

[She kicks her feet down and leans forward, chin on her hands, feigning attentiveness.]

Tell me then- what's your good end for the tower? What do you boys and girls out there hope winds up happening when the clock hits zero on our time here?

Come on.

Always did love a good fairytale.


[ooc: backdated to sometime the 21st, late forever]

[Ken looks kind of tired, but whatever. He's got an important message.]

Okay, listen up. Anyone who wants to spar with me, come to floor twenty-five. If you're new, that's the meadow floor below the morgue. I use a spear, so if you're also a spear user consider this a special invitation.

If you want to learn how to use a spear, you should come too.

Oh - and if you call me a kid or anything like that expect an extra beating.

Anyone with a Persona who wants to spar should come too - I don't know how many of us are left here.

[Aside from his family, but whatever.]

See you there.

[[ooc; The log is here!]]

Last month, I posted to the Network asking for those who would be willing teach others how to fight--both with and without powers--to contact me. Many of you were willing to share your talents with those who needed them, and I thank you very much for that.

[Diarmuid smiles and bows his head for a moment before continuing.]

However, aside from a few people who I have already helped find teachers, I haven't really heard from anyone who would like to take advantage of the skills that have been offered. I understand that many of you have probably already found teachers amongst those who you know. For those who still might be looking, I thought that I would post a list of those who offered their services so you can take advantage of them should you ever wish to.

I will warn you, though, that most of these people are battle-hardened warriors and do not pull their punches. If you take them up on their offers, please be prepared to work your hardest. They will expect no less and those who you are fighting for deserve no less.

Here is the list. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. Since I know most of the people on the list, if you are unsure who you should contact, I will be glad to direct you to a teacher.

( Teacher List )

If anyone would like to be added to the list, please feel free to let me know. Also, let me know if you would like the information listed by your names altered in anyway or wish to be removed from the list.  This list isn't a static thing by any means.

On a sadder note, for any of you who knew Mami Tomoe, it has come to my attention that she has been sent home. I know she was close to many people. She left me a cookie recipe and since Riki has given us such a good selection of food this month, I can think of no better way to honor her memory than to bake some of the sweets she made so well. Anyone who would like to join me is welcome, though, I cannot guarantee my cookies will be anywhere near as good as the ones she made.  I--

[For a moment it seems like Diarmuid will continue, but after a few seconds, he just shakes his head and ends the feed.]


----

(OOC: If anyone would like to meet up with Diarmuid in the kitchen to try making those cookies, feel free to tag your response with Action, Kitchen and cooking shenanigans can be had!)

I know what happened. Are you happy with yourselves? Doing things when you don't even know what you're doing, or why. Look what you did... there were people suffering, children crying. Do you know how much pain you caused? It isn't right. It isn't fair.

What gives you the right? You take other people's lives in your hands! Take their choices from them. Deciding whether we should live or die for us. Do you think that we want to die? I don't. While there's life, there still hope. We should keep on living, no matter what. We should always keep--

[After this brief speech, Kariya slumps, breathing heavily. His good eye widens, and the swollen veins in his face seem to pulse for a moment. The effort of speaking has obviously taken a lot out of him. The physical and mental shock of the worms returning has taken its toll on him. He looks as if he's having trouble standing upright at the terminal. A spasm of pain crosses his face. When he speaks again, his voice is weaker.]

I need a healer--is there someone who can help?

[He has to face it. He can do it. But other people need to know. He'd looked for her... and then checked the graveyard. Sure enough...]

For anyone who cares, Nanako Dojima is gone from the tower.

... That's all.

Greetings, my name is Naoya Toudou.

I was one of the affected, and for that I apologize if we met during this time. I was fully aware of what had been done to me but unable to stop myself and my actions, except for parts of complete clearness.

[Like that time when he was able to stop himself and Chidori and...]

...

However, that is not why I am posting currently.

For those that don't know me, I patrol at nights in the tower with a few others. This was started by Minami Arisato, a previous resident of the Tower.

I realize that at a time like this, it may almost seem trivial, but I will continue to do so to ensure the safety of others. If you are interested in joining me, please understand that this is extremely dangerous, especially with the tower having so many floors now, but having more numbers would be appreciated. If we end up being enough, we can start a rotation between ourselves.

Moreover, if for any reason you need to be in the tower at night and require assistance against the monsters, I am available for your aid as well.

The first voice that boisterously sails from the terminal's speakers is clearly recognizable to those who know her as Sayaka Miki, formerly erstwhile agitator back in.. what seems to be totally unaltered spirits.

( cut for colored text )

[The feed clicks on. Hunched over the terminal is a haggard, shivering man in a Nazi uniform with snow still dusting his body, who's glaring at the camera as if he's trying to burn a hole through whoever is watching. He's silent for a moment, just breathing heavily, until he finally speaks in a voice that's as gravelly and uneven as a cobblestone road.]

...That's it. [His German accent is thicker than ever, as if he's not even trying to speak properly anymore. He sounds strangely serene underneath it all, eerily so.] I've had it. I can't take it anymore. I don't want to live here-

[He cuts himself off sharply after his voice rises in volume, and he draws in a ragged breath, shutting his eyes. A violent shudder runs through his body, and a strap of leather slides down his shoulder as a result. He shrugs it back up, and the glinting metal of a large gun can be seen behind his back.]

...I don't. You are all- [A look crosses his face like he's just thought of a funny joke. He gives a chuckle, and the sound is light and airy, but it's weak, too.] You're all laughing, aren't you? You're laughing- [He slams his fists down on the terminal, all traces of good humor gone from his face and his tone.] -und you're happy that I am suffering like this! Well, I'll give you all another reason to hate me, ja?

[He straightens up, and for a moment, a pained expression crosses his face. He puts a hand to his head, mutters:] Shut up, shut up!

[And then he tugs his gun off its strap and over his shoulder. To those who are familiar with WWII-era weaponry, it's an MP 40 sub-machine gun, and Richtofen's holding it with a vice grip. He gives the camera a lopsided grin, then shouts at the terminal, at the viewer.]

Why don't you all try to give me one reason why I shouldn't knock on every door in this hallway und blow the brains out of whoever answers? Hmm? Come on, I know you have it in you! Convince me, heroes. [He spits out that last word like it's poison.

Speaking up again, his voice is bitter. There's an almost mournful edge to it.] Give me a reason to try und be a good person.

[And then he leans against the terminal again, eyes darting to and fro over the screen, gripping the gun tightly in his trembling hands.]


((ooc: Richtofen is at one of the terminals on the 2nd dormitory level. action replies are welcomed! just beware that an action reply also puts you at risk of being attacked by Richtofen. he has no supernatural abilities, but he has a knife and an itchy trigger finger.

warning - replies may include violence, dark subject matter, and possibly suicide if Richtofen isn't calmed down. as always, he has a permissions post that you can use to let me know what you are and aren't okay with, or you can just let me know in your tag.))

[Almost as soon as Ryoji awakes and finds himself back to normal, he searches for the nearest terminal and switches it on. It's late, it's unlikely that anyone will hear this but... he needs to get it out somehow.

His face is pale, and for a moment, he almost looks like he's still wearing that terrifying mask. His bloodshot eyes, though, are there, are real eyes, not empty holes of darkness.

It takes him quite a few minutes before he gets up the courage to speak, and he doesn't have that booming voice anymore, either. This voice is just shaky... and sad.]

... Nyx is not a malevolent being. She only exists to give mankind what they all desire, deep in their hearts. She believes any man keeps this want a secret, hidden from the rest of the world and even himself.

B-But it's still there. The want for death.

It seems that this Tower is indestructible, and therefore Nyx could not bring down the Fall... I think she thought that there must be a way to end it, that she just wasn't seeing it. She thought that... maybe if people didn't want to die yet, then she'd make them want it...

[Ryoji lowers his head for a moment, eyes scrunched together as he lets out a pained sigh.]

That's not an excuse. I shouldn't be defending her-we...

I shouldn't be defending myself. I'm truly sorry. If anyone was harmed, please let me know. I'll do my best to make it up to you.

( Private to Persona users he has met-Labrys, Yu, Ken, Minato, Naoya. )

Just so you know if you're 14 or younger we're having a meeting in room 5-07.

We're meeting to discuss a couple things including how to keep everyone warm and not sick.

[[ooc; The meeting log is here! Ken won't really be responding to this post.]]

why is it so cold?

there aren't enough blankets

is it going to get colder>?

we're going to get sick


make sure you keep your hands warm everyone

don't get frostbite

[Now he's going to just. Go and try to wrap himself in whatever material he can find that's decently warm.]

[Immediately after this thread, Waver types up a text entry on the network. He doesn't really think about what he's saying, he just needs to warn as many people as possible.]


I assume most people here read this. This is important. Ryuunosuke Uryuu is from my world, and he's said he doesn't see a point in doing the same here, but nonetheless, I think everyone should be aware of any potential danger. If I said nothing and something happened...I would be partially to blame.

He was a serial killer - children, mostly.

[Even still the memory is terrible, and his hands shake as he types.]

I found where he kept the bodies. He calls it 'art'. I can't imagine anything worse than that scene. They didn't even look human anymore.

Just be careful. He seemed nice enough. That's the worst part.




Edit -

It was noted I should describe him rather than only give a name. He's tall, maybe 5'8", orange-brown hair, he has piercings in his ears, and his personality seemed to be helpful and amicable to me.


[that's only particularly tall to Waver...]

[So, the Halloween shenanigans got her thinking. She was strong enough to live, to steal her way through the event. She didn't die. She got her candy. All was well. But it was a certain kind of hell to be wearing a costume like the one she was stuck in that showed off all of the charred skin she tried to hide.

It would be a good time to put an end to it.]

How many of you here are healers of some sort?

[A little hesitation.]

I currently have deep second-degree burns over 98% of my body from a handful of months earlier. Most if not all of them are "fresh" wounds that refuse to heal rather than scars, due to the burns themselves being invoked by my preternatural weaknesses. As you can guess from context, I currently both feel like and resemble a piece of cooked meat. If anyone is able to heal any injuries of this degree, I'd like to speak with you. A price can be arranged, if necessary.

Are you having fun?