#maltet

so how ‘bout that feh channel huh

((CW: attempted hanging)) After the trial was over, Maltet had waited until everyone else had gone wherever they planned on going. Most to bed, probably - they were all exhausted. Maltet was as well, but she didn't go to bed. Despite her exhaustion, she trudged to the golf course, practically dragging her feet across the ground. She looked pitifully tired. Her eyes were empty, and her movements were like a wooden doll. If one didn't know better, they could mistake her for a shambling zombie. She immediately entered the golf shed, and began to search through it. She had no regard for keeping the place organized, and several things ended up tossed around before she found what she was looking for. A coil of rope. God only knew why the golf shed had rope, but it also had javelins, so who was she to question it? And besides, it only made everything easier for her. Rope in hand, she exited the golf course and began to walk to Kevin's as quickly as she could. If she remembered correctly, there were ceiling fans in the restaurant - that would work nicely. She quietly entered the restaurant, and grabbed one of the nearest chairs. She pulled it up under one of the ceiling fans, having to get on her tip toes and even stack another chair on top in order to reach the fan and successfully tie one end of the rope around it. She took a deep breath as she began to tie the other end. Soon. It would be over soon. She could almost see Mouthpiece when she closed her eyes. [not describing the attempt itself bc I'm a weenie] Maltet hit the floor with a loud 'thump'. Apparently, she wasn't as good at tying knots as she thought she was. The rope had come undone over her weight, causing her to fall to the floor below. She didn't even have the energy to get back up. She just lay there with the toppled chairs and failed noose, numbly crying and rubbing at her now-very-sore neck. She barely registered the sound of footsteps, and when she did, her only response was to half-mumble a sentence. "Suicide 's a private matter...."

Partially in a fit and partially because she realized talking to a corpse was useless, Maltet stomped out of the room. She didn’t want to be around anyone. She knew she would have to investigate soon enough, but for now she couldn’t stand to be near people. Someone might try to make her trust them again - and besides, one of them was a filthy fucking murderer who didn’t think about anyone but themselves. She stormed to her room, punching the wall on the way - not enough to damage it, lest she face Del'Arte’s fury, but enough to show that she was mad. She came into her room, and slammed the door behind her. She took her rabbit plushie and sat against the door with it, praying no one would knock. She needed some time to be alone from the world - after all, she had just been slapped in the face with the reminder that she couldn’t ever trust anyone. If she did, they would always hurt her, intentionally or not.

Maltet had been half-listening as Del'Arte went on about answering questions. She was a bit more interested in the flashlights she and the others had been provided with, and why they would need them. After all, they would only need flashlights if it was going to be-- Oh. The dome immersed every inch of the country club in darkness almost immediately. Similarly, Maltet's face went sheet-white almost immediately - not that anyone could see it. Oh god, oh god. Maltet had had enough panic attacks lately - she needed to calm down. She needed to go back to her usual stoic nature, all these meltdowns were weakening her. She could feel her stomach turning and her chest tightening as she fought to calm down. It wasn't working. It wasn't working, she wasn't calming down - why wasn't she calming down!? She started yanking on her pigtails, tugging so hard that small chunks of hair came out. It wasn't working, she still felt terrified and she hated the dark and she couldn't see anything except for what the flashlight illuminated. She was painfully aware of the fact that she was hyperventilating and whimpering loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. She jumped as someone touched her shoulder, falling over and scrambling backwards, fumbling for her flashlight so she could see who it was. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screeched, already in tears.

Oh, fucking fantastic. First they were trapped in this dingy campsite with barely any reliable light, and now the plague was catching. Because this was definitely what Maltet needed in her life right now. She groaned, not wanting to even think about dealing with this. "What's next? You're going to starve us if you don't see bloodshed?" She turned on her heel and stormed off, clutching her plush rabbit to her chest. Well, where else to go but her tent? Looking a lot like a pouting child, she crawled into her tent and sat in the corner of it. She was probably acting like a little kid, but she didn't care - she wasn't in the mood to deal with Del'Arte's bullshit. Well, she was definitely noticeable while storming to her tent. Anyone interested in bothering a small child?

Maltet did not appreciate many things. She did not appreciate the pool party, she did not appreciate Papillon's prank, she did not appreciate the negative burst of emotion she was going through, and she most certainly did not appreciate 'getting dunked on' or the motive. She had left her ElectroID on the bench, and grabbed it as she left the scene of the motive announcement. As she tried and failed to put it in a pocket that didn't exist, she realized that they could leave the water park. She grabbed the closest towel, wrapped it around herself for extra coverage, and ran towards the hotel - and more importantly, her room - as fast as her little legs could carry her. As she ran, she checked the message on her ElectroID. Her face only grew paler. Not over the secret she had been given - it was bad, sure, but she could handle knowing it. But the fact that someone knew her secret. Someone knew. She began to run even faster, feeling more exposed than ever. There was no way the person could know it was her, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter that she wouldn't have been able to change even if Papillon hadn't thrown her clothes into the water, she was still upset. Oh, sure, she had managed to retrieve them, and she was thankful she had a virtually identical outfit in her room, but it didn't make her any less mad. As her room came nearer, she focused herself on it. Don't think about the motive, don't think about your secret, don't think about Papillon's childish prank. Focus on the next objective, that was advice she had heard somewhere. It was great advice, until you slammed directly into someone and fell back onto the floor. "Ow! Ow, fuck, fuck, ow!" Not noticing people and slamming directly into people - truly, she was on a roll today.

“What’s going on with you?" 

Well, did it even count as swimming? None of the water seemed to get deeper than five feet. Really, the only people who would be doing any swimming were her and Athena, and Maltet herself didn’t plan on it. Instead, she sat on the edge of the lazy river, only dipping her feet into the water. She had gotten a bit occupied mulling over the new area and the trial they had just escaped. She didn’t really want to talk to anyone - she was irritated about more than a few things. And now, the new area was completely ridiculous. She was so caught up in all this overly bitter thinking that she didn’t notice someone approaching her.