Daichi: At this point, one should remember that going friendless for nine years, making a friend, having said friend die that same day, and going without friends for five to six more years cannot be good for you.
Verity: We just own a large number of characters. You'll notice them because they aren't in the game.
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Trixie wasn't sure what to make of this new side of Ib. Before today, she'd known the other girl as quiet, somebody who blended in to the background perfectly, never spoke unless spoken to, and let everyone else push her around. Quite a difference from what she saw today.
Today, for the first time, she had seen Ib stand up for herself. Actually the first time she'd seen Ib do anything but go along with whatever anyone else did. Certainly, she'd never taken the lead like this before. She'd have been forced from the position near immediately, without a backbone. It was quite impressive, actually.
Not that she'd known Ib all that well, all things considered. For all she knew, this new side of her could be the normal one. She doubted it, though. The other girl seemed too tense for it to be normal.
"Do you think we can find Miguel soon?" She asked the question, but wasn't paying as much attention as she should have been, too busy taking in the world around her.
"I certainly hope so," Ib replied. "I saw a few petals back there, so I'm pretty sure we're headed in the right direction… and we have to hurry, before the others wander off without us, assuming they haven't already, and that's probably not a valid assumption." Trixie certainly couldn't disagree with that statement.
The fact was, while Ib's clear determination could be somewhat intimidating… she also had to be physically there for it to really take effect. Trixie wouldn't be entirely surprised if the others were all long gone.
"We probably should find him, but… maybe we could rest for a bit? Everything hurts." She tried not to think about the various slashes on her legs, or what was sure to be a sizable bruise on her side. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if something was broken at this point.
"You're the one that ran down that hallway. You deal with the consequences," Ib responded, automatically. "I did give you fair warning. I swear, none of my friends hold any regard for their own lives..." This last bit was mumbled, as though Trixie wasn't meant to hear it. But she did.
It surprised her that the other girl was willing to consider her a friend. But that, also, was not an unwelcome change.
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Puppet did, eventually, find the vase that he was looking for. Supposedly. Miguel still wasn't entirely sure that the doll was trustworthy, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. And Ib had, earlier, mentioned that they should look for vases.
Still, it was a surprise to him when placing his rose in the vase undid all earlier damage. Well, at least, the rose had all of its petals again. His leg was still a bit sore, but that might have been more from the force of the fall than any actual damage.
"That's better," The painting sighed in relief. "So, what have you decided?"
"What would you need me to do?" Miguel replied. He wasn't going to make a decision until he knew exactly what he was getting himself into.
Puppet turned to some odd shapes in the shadows. "You remember that room we found the other day, right? With the paintbrushes and empty canvasses? I need you to get some and bring them here, just to be sure it will work." There was a nod, and two dolls ran out of the shadows and in a specific direction.
"What are those?"
"They're my friends. Don't ask me where they came from, I have no idea. Some of my other friends might know, but they aren't telling me." And Miguel supposed that this was as good of an answer as he was bound to get.
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"I can't believe you actually came after us," Hannah sighed, helping David off of the ground. "That was a terrible idea, and you know it."
"And get stuck with the teacher, Jade, and someone who doesn't always talk? No way. I want to have fun while I'm here."
Chris groaned. "You think jumping through a hole in the ground is fun? I say it's painful. And we don't even know how to get back to the others, so our only hope is that they'll find us first. If they even want to."
"Why wouldn't they?" Hannah asked.
"Well, think for a moment. The only person in this whole deathtrap who knows what she's doing is the same person you've relentlessly tormented since elementary school. Now, would you honestly be surprised if she decided not to even bother?"
"She's not like that, though," David pointed out. But Chris had brought up a very valid point, and a few seeds of doubt had been sown with his words.
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Ib had been rather harsh with Trixie when she'd been asked if they could rest, and she was regretting this now. The fact was, she knew how painful claw marks could be, from harsh experience, especially those given no medical attention. There was a reason she would never be able to run cross country.
The fact was, no matter how many vases she used, the damage done to her right leg on her first visit was permanent, and still acted up at times. She didn't see it as that big of a deal, as it only caused her problems when she ran. Or like now, when she hadn't had time to check, but could swear that those old wounds had somehow reopened.
It wouldn't even surprise her all that much if they had, given where she was. But she couldn't stop now, couldn't rest, couldn't even check to make sure nothing that had been damaged couldn't be repaired. It wasn't like she could help if it did, anyway. Besides, it wasn't like the pain was anything new, and despite the years that had passed… nothing had really changed, had it? The names and faces might be different, but it was still Ib and a precious few allies against a world that wanted them dead.
"Hey, what's that?" Ib turned in the direction Trixie pointed, to see a door that almost blended in to the wall itself. "Do you think there's anything interesting there?" It likely wouldn't be required to go in there, but at the same time… Well, there weren't any nearby windows, and if there was anything there, they could just close the door.
"...I suppose it couldn't hurt," She finally stated, already wishing she hadn't, because to encourage Trixie was a mark of doom. But it really couldn't, or she at least told herself that, any more than blindly searching the main path could hurt.
Because if she didn't know where she was going, either way, did it really matter which path they took? She'd already lost Miguel's trail, and while she still hoped he'd turn up, he could be anywhere. There wasn't really a reason to choose one direction over another.
Ib tried to open the door. It wasn't even locked. She supposed that not every door could be. There certainly wasn't a shortage of places to hide keys in an art gallery, but it would also make getting around difficult. More difficult.
Honestly, she was mostly concerned with the fact that nothing had appeared and tried to kill them yet. At least that would be something she could anticipate, and deal with accordingly.
But the room had nothing in it, aside from empty frames. No scorch marks, which said something about the kind of foot traffic it normally got. It was just empty. Well, mostly.
"Lighter fluid? In an art gallery?" Trixie sounded incredulous, and Ib would be, too, if she weren't laughing in relief. Finally. Something she could use. She remembered the flicker of light that had, once, kept her nightmares away, and now, she finally felt like there was actually some hope left.
"This is… this is perfect," She stated, and Trixie was looking at her like she was crazy, and Ib realized that she very well may be, at least by the standards of the outside world. Well. Sanity was overrated, anyway. "We can do something, now."
"Ib, what are we supposed to do with lighter fluid?" And perhaps Trixie asking the normal, rational, reasonable questions should have been a warning sign that things were bad, but Ib had gone, in five minutes, from completely panicking to having some amount of hope, and she wasn't about to ruin that with logic.
"What does anyone do with lighter fluid?" Was her reply. "Sure, it could take some time before we need it, but… fire is a very potent weapon here. Trust me on that." She knew it. All too well. Being unable to get proper medical treatment had repercussions on more than just her ability to run. It had taken roughly a week for the burns to fade when she had tripped, and she was still surprised her parents had never asked how, exactly, her outfit had gotten so ruined.
She'd just written it off as them being unobservant, just like everyone else. But it didn't matter to her, she didn't care what people thought about her anymore.
At least, she kept telling herself that. And, perhaps, if she did, it might one day become reality.
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Daichi: The thing about Ib's injuries… well, the vases did heal her, but it was just as well as she could be healed at the moment, and not quite as well as if she'd gotten actual medical treatment.
Tsukaimon: I'm just surprised she can convince people she's normal.
Daichi: It helps that not very many people pay attention to her. And given the circumstances, I'd say she turned out relatively okay. Relatively being the operative term here.
