necrotiem | sonya

[The optimistic strategy to split watch throughout their cabana has hit a snag.

Returning from a bit of late-night research at the bookstore, Waltaquin finds herself coming across the common area outside the cabanas, walking in between the communal hammocks set up there...but she can go no further. The unexpected, invisible corralling is quite galling. She dislikes the constraint; it easily dulls any of the more exciting aspects of the existential dread that's become commonplace on the island.

It's just her and her housemate here, or so it seems. In lieu of pacing, Quin sits tensely on the edge of one of the hammocks, her hands folded together in her lap.]

Hyeheheh... so much for our well-laid plans. Haven't found a way around here, have you?

[In a way, Waltaquin thinks she knew there was something special about him from the moment he complimented her company. Not many here seem particularly tolerant of differences in attitude, and either he had been attempting to manipulate her - and thus, a man with many secrets to keep - or to some extent, the compliment had been genuinely intended.

Quin comes along in the late evening to visit him where he's being held by the beach, hands knit together in front of her.]

It would have been nice to see you play with Billy Butcher a little longer. I really should have kept the other one from interfering.

[Sonya probably would have lost his strength regardless, but she could had dissuaded Shuda from getting in the way of a real one-on-one.]

I suppose I should also say thank you for not killing me where I slept.

[ Good morning. Is Sonya's favorite necromancer toiling away in the lab committing sleep crimes? Hopefully she is, because the dead don't respect the time of others; not that Sonya ever did in the first place. ]

My dear Quin, both the aggrieved and the sin itself are pitiable in different ways. Luckily, compassion is a virtue even for sinners.

week 2 curfew

week 2 post-trial

week 5, early tuesday morning