May the odds...

[justabignobody]

Characters: Minglelog for anyone not involved in the event
Setting: During the first part of the event, in the media room or near any terminal
Format: Whatever!
Summary: As Ruana's chosen dogs set out to hunt and/or run, the rest of the tower watches.
Warnings: very possibly mentions of violence and character death? Will update as needed!

[Sometimes in the morning, strange events start to be broadcasted to the screens of the media room and the terminal, showing familiar faces, though some maybe in not quite so familiar get-ups. Looks like Ruana's game is just about to start!]

Comments

[doctor_dismemberment]

"Of course I'm not," he snapped. He spoke too much in haste, though, because he looked to be second-guessing himself as soon as the words came out of his mouth. "...Okay, well, perhaps a bit. All right, more than a bit. I'm very jealous, stop looking at me!"

Was Nesir even looking at him? It didn't matter. He gave her a cautious up-and-down glance, though he had no reason to be wary of her at that moment. All of that progress he was trying to make in the "acting like a decent person" department didn't much seem to exist any more.

[culbutiri]

Nesir's smirk grew as he got more and more annoyed at her. "I can be looking at whoever I do be wanting to be looking at." She got up and moved closer to him. "It do be being a pity you did no be being chosen."

[doctor_dismemberment]

Richtofen tensed, but didn't move away as she drew closer. His lip curled in a sneer, a sharp contrast to her (stupid, smarmy) smirk.

"I see your manners have not improved since we have last spoken," he said, regarding her with a look of disgust. "That is the real pity here."

[culbutiri]

"My manners do be being perfect." She grinned at his look, "They do no be needing to be improving."

[doctor_dismemberment]

"Your manners need as much improvement as your grammar," Richtofen said.

In a huff, he turned his attention back to the monitors. His bad mood seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it had appeared. His sneer turned to a grin, and he gave a nasally chuckle.

"It is a pity we have no money," he said. "We could make bets on what is going to happen!"

[culbutiri]

She rolled her eyes at that. And watched him as he watched the monitors again, "We can be betting with other things."

[doctor_dismemberment]

Richtofen quirked an eyebrow.

"Really?" He sounded intrigued, but he didn't spare another glance in Nesir's direction. "And what would you suggest we use as an alternative?"

[culbutiri]

She thought about that, "Food perhaps, or favours. Or we could be doing dares." Warrior acolytes didn't tend to have any money, so she was used to playing gambling games without it.

[doctor_dismemberment]

"Favors? Dares?" Richtofen's eyes shine with interest. "I like that. It will give me something to do to entertain myself in this damned place, while everyone else has all the fun."

He scoffs and waves a hand toward the monitors. Of course, he doesn't care a lick about Nesir's fun, but he doubts she expects him to at this point in their friend(?)ship.

[culbutiri]

She grinned, "Then we will be doing that then." She really didn't expect him to care, it was something that was a constant.

"What do you be thinking then?"