As the others are picked off, one by one, l merely wonder if l am the one who caused their death.......

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Day 12?

Elvina appeared to have died from a heart attack, but Scylla knew. She had seen the Nightmare, but didn't do anything about it. She hated feeling so. . . Powerless. Unable to prevent the deaths of her friends. Just standing by while they were picked off like flies, one by one. . . . Yet she knew that it was inevitable. She knew it had to keep on happening, keep on going for the sake of the CBers. This is why she wasn't shocked when the murderer came to her quarters, the room dark save for the glint of a sword. The murderer's sword. Scylla sighed, arms held open, as the murderer advanced to kill her. She was ready for this, and knew it would be agonizing, but she refused to let anything but exhaustion and weariness show through. Suddenly, lights flickered to life. . . .

Cyclone leaped into the room. It had solidified, and now resembled a muscular bear. It had been correct; the murderer was about to kill Scylla. Cyclone didn't know what would happen if Scylla died, and didn't really want to find out. So this is probably why it broke her door down to distract the murderer. And it succeeded. The murderer whirled, startled, to face Cyclone the bear. It reared, showing bright, sharp white teeth. The murderer, in its haste to turn around, slashed its sword recklessly, hitting Cyclone. Scylla leaped out of the way, grabbing a crossbow from a rack on the wall. She had no idea why. Before she could take aim at the murderer, they had already sliced through Cyclone, who evaporated into whisps of wind that finally died. The murderer threw a violet smoke bomb and disappeared.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

R.I.S. Cyclone. Rest In Smoke. 

OH MY GOSH!!!!!! THIS IS SO AMAZING!!!!! SCYLLA, YOU ARE SO AMAZING. Oh, and is it possible that CAPTCHAS could be murderers? Because, I think I'm standing next to one. 

*Puck and I both point guiltly at Sir Galahad*

Sir Galahad: Wht?  

Anyways, gtg. Tata for now!  

Scylla, is Team Gelato going to be back? If so, when? (Great job so far, by the way! I know it's what everybody's been saying, but it's true!)

Koda says oxnm. Apparently there is an ox in New Mexico and Koda felt the sudden, burning desire to inform me of that fact right at this very moment. Great job being random, Koda. 

I FOUND THIS THREAD! SCYLLA, YOU ARE AMAZING!

You made me cry over Elsa's death. And I NEVER cry when I read. I've only done this TWICE before!

When I read where the red ferns grow,

WINGS OF FIRE SPOILER

When I thought Glory died. 

I don't know if Gelato will be in again, but if they are I'll definitely tell you. I'm just kind of winging it, you know? Cho, I take it you like it? Thanks! I read too much, and it goes to my head and makes me want to write! I'll try to add as soon as I can.

Day 13? (Ooh, that's unlucky. I pity today's victim!)

In the morning, the murderer grinned. It was the Thirteenth Day. This was going to be good.

Cho blinked the sleep out of her eyes. What was wrong? Why were all the lights out? She groggily went about her morning, suddenly realizing that the lights weren't actually off, the building was. All the windows were foggy and black. The normally glowing Prismarine had fallen dark. Cho, suddenly awake, ran to the Grand Hall to see if Scylla knew what was going on. Cho tripped several times on the way there, and it seemed as though luck was not on her side. She arrived late, and Scylla had already started the day's announcements.

Abigail was already in the hall when Cho came breathlessly in. Abigail patted the chair next to her, and Cho gratefully took a seat. Abigail held a finger to her lips and gestured up at Scylla. "O hate to put you at unrest," Scylla began, "but the reason a lot of you are experiencing bad luck is because this is your Thirteenth Day at Prismarine. Superstitiously, thirteen is unlucky, so perhaps that's why this day will be bad. A note to the murderer: I know who you are. I don't appreciate what you're doing, but I won't stop it. Please find more creative ways to kill people."

Later that day, Ditty held a concert to brighten the mood. It was strange -- there were singing pineapples. They were giant, perfectly ripe pineapples with sunglasses and leis, and they were singing. Nobody had seen the like before. "Kind of reminiscent of the luau we came here for," Somebody muttered to Shadow. Shadow nodded. "Just enjoy the concert," she murmured back. "We'll all be dead soon so it doesn't even matter." Somebody grinned evilly. "Or maybe not." Shadow sighed. "Quit it!" The strangest thing that happened during that concert wasn't the dark. It wasn't Somebody's attitude. It wasn't even the singing pineapples. It was when it started raining cats. No dogs, only cats. Black cats. "Oh no," Aquina whispered. "This is bad." Glancing at the cats' flashing claws as they poured from the ceiling, she added, "Very bad." Everyone fled the room, covering their heads in a futile attempt to protect themselves from the relentless tide of cats. Soon, only Aquina was left. And someone else. . . .

The murderer slowly crept out of the shadows. Aquina stood alone in the room, save for the cats. A perfect target. She was bruised and battered from the downpour, which has stopped. The murderer would barely need to do anything at all. Casually sauntering up to her, the murderer waved and said, "Hi, Aquina." Aquina gasped. The murderer cackled, picking up a cat. It twisted the cat into a missile shape, despite its painful yowls. The murderer politely nodded to Aquina, then took aim and shot the cat off at Aquina. It was frightened, claws outstretched, and buried itself into her. She collapsed, the cat dying with her. . .

•~• `~` °~° ^~^

R.I.C. Aquina. Rest In Cats. 

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Where are the diaries? This doesn't feel like a real ski lodge without the diaries!

Day Fourteen (Ooh, only like eleven days left! Yay!)

The next day, some strange custodian army cleaned up the wreckage of Day Thirteen and Chateau d'Prismarine was restored to its prior state. The day progressed as normal, or as normal as it can get with a hotel full of five CBers, two Æs, and four CAPTCHAs. So pretty chaotic, especially with Somebody and Shifting Sands still alive. But moving on: today's activity was π wars. Not pie wars, π wars. How this happened was very confusing, and probably completely CB fueled. The occupants of Prismarine were throwing tangible math equations at each other, and if the recipient of the equation couldn't solve it in exactly 3.14159 seconds or less, the equation exploded with a nasty surprise onto the recipient. Some were pleasant, however. Meox was splashed with a cherry pie filling.

This activity took place in a canvas covered, self cleaning room somewhere in the east wing of o Prismarine, so whatever things happened in it wouldn't stain. Scylla was particular about the Prismarine tiled floor, so they did their best to not get it messy. Cho tossed 5+7 at Taxicab, who quickly answered, "12!" The equation, solved, disappeared in a puff of silver glitter. The CAPTCHAs had been given "free chat" for this game. Now Ditty reached into her bag of equations, pulling out 1+3. She lobbed it at Sir Galahad, who faltered for 3.141591 seconds too long. The equation exploded in a burst of a smelly, brown liquid. "Eww, what was that, Ditty?" Sir G. complained. "I don't know," Ditty answered. "Maybe Grandma's bean soup?" She laughed.

Day Fourteen, continued