#mm3l

A kitchen on every floor? Some would probably call that much food extra, especially given the events of the first motive and its subsequent turnout. But perhaps it was for the better - people tend to congregate and cook in places most familiar or visited by them before, which would explain why the fourth floor kitchen and dining hall were in a more frequent state of use than not. Even with the whispered rumors that Kyou's spectre may or may not be haunting the place in search of more coffee grounds hasn't deterred most of the ship's inhabitants from the kitchen that started it all.

Which helps if you want to be alone to cook. No one, it seemed, felt like visiting the third floor kitchen despite the more luxurious setting of the attached dining hall. So that was exactly where Phantom found himself, chopping away.

As far as the universe was concerned, it was wagered that nobody quite knew what to make of the blond. Very few people understood what drove the masked man to do what he did, and the one who could explain it the best had found herself meeting quite a painful end at the end of a hammer. Was companionship cursed for Phantom? Did someone have a grudge against him and his way of life? It didn't seem like he wanted to think about it, but the look on his face-

"Hhrk!" Phantom drops the knife on the cooking board, pulling away. A careless thought and a distracted mind go hand-in-hand, and the result is a grazed finger that he immediately shoves in his mouth. Seconds later, that same finger is now being exposed to the cold running water of the kitchen sink, its owner leaning against the countertop, a morose expression on his face.

At the sound of the announcement, Trois rolled out of bed and onto the floor, letting out a measely grunt on impact. She took a breath in and stretched her limbs out on the floor in a cat-like manner, before glancing up to Phantom still laying down.

".... mmmmorning..."

Phantom shook his head. "I knew I should have offered to sleep on the floor to begin with."

Seemed like she couldn't just sleep through this one, since it was... a motive, probably? Bleh. These motives were a load of horsehockey, really. People were already suffering enough, and tacking on an added stressor was... too much, for sure.

She didn't bother changing out of her pajamas. Pastel pink with softly colored stars... it rather clashed with everything else. She snagged her hair ribbons off the dresser she'd left them on, and tucked them in her pocket. She could put her hair up later, when she didn't feel like her soul was being sucked out of her body.

Slipping her pink bunny slippers on, she pushed the door open and trotted out to the usual meeting place, yawning loudly. She glanced at the giant AnoN on the screen and waited patiently to get this over with.

... What? How did that even work? ... Why would this make anyone---

She turned around as she heard a familiar sound, an apparition fading into existence before her eyes.

and let out a throat-destroying scream.

"H͠͏̕͟͡H̸̸̕͜͝H̸̛͘͠͠Á̧́͘͞Ą̸́͏̸A͘̕͡͠A҉̶̵̡͘A̶͟A͜͏̴O͟Ó̷̵͜O͡҉̷͢͟H̡͞ ̀̕͘͡G̨͞O҉̵D̀́!̶͡!̛̕͠͡!̷̡̢͡"

She froze, petrified in absolute horror, tears streaming down her face. If it weren't for the fact that she was already beginning to hyperventilate, she might have stayed frozen there. Instead? She bolted out of the room and ran anywhere. Somewhere. Somewhere safe, and guarded, where they couldn't find her. Somewhere she could... climb or something dear gosh literally anywhere would work.

Okay first, ew. Second, ew. Third, ew ew ew ew ew-

One would not normally expect someone like Phantom to be the overly prissy kind of person, but when you wear three layers of clothing and have the brightest kind of hair, you'd do well not to get any grime or dirt where they don't belong. Sadly, exploring the newly-opened floor was...well, he certainly hoped there would be a spa room in the next one. There just wasn't enough shampoo in the world to get the feeling of cobwebs out of his hair, or enough detergent to get the stains from his super-special-awesome-very-goddamn-important jacket.

Which is why he can currently be found in the Laundry Room, pacing around and occasionally checking a laundry machine. His hair is still slightly wet from having been in the showers, and while it can't be seen, there are dark circles in his eyes from all the sleep he's never getting back from being unclean. Gods damn the filthiness of the fifth floor, lord knows someone will have to drag him back up there again. Sadly, there isn't much to do while waiting for your signature jacket to be funky fresh, so...

Well, no one was watching. Might as well sing a little.

The whole new floor was a dump. Absolute garbage. Outside of the empty room she and Shiba were now using as an art project, the place was... useless, really... there wasn't any reason to wander around outside of the initial looksee.

A handful of the doors were locked, to what presumably would have been more bedrooms. Still, knowing that so few of them were unlocked, Trois still rattled the doorknobs of each one, as if something would give her a new result.

Bunk beds, though, huh? She'd always kind of wanted to sleep in one... specifically the top bunk. Someday, maybe? Leaving the door open to the room she'd popped into, Trois climbed up to the top of a bunkbed and placed a hand on it.

It was... expectedly gross. But not beyond Trois's ability to sleep in it, of course. Was someone allowed to sleep here? Did this count as a private room? ... Good questions she didn't really care about asking.

Tip tap limp tap tip... With a bit of an awkward limp, Trois piddled her way down the stairs into the middle class areas. For being middle class, they seemed more like low-income spaces than mid-grade. The thought struck her that an even worse floor could exist. She frowned in response to the idea.

In one hand, she carried a small bucket filled with paints, paintbrushes, colored and regular pencils. If this floor was going to be terrible, then no one would care if she made an art project out of it, probably. She swung the bucket in her hands, the supplies jumbling around with each limp.

Aaaand she eventually found herself in the empty room. This was the place. Not only was it a crappy room... it was just so EMPTY. and depressing... and kind of exhausting, in it's own way. She set the bucket down and began pulling supplies, starting with the plain pencils.

And rather than stars, like the personal project in her private room, she drew flowers. Most flowers, anyway, but there were also designs and shapes and... things.

And it was all pretty.... below average, but it was at least better than stick figures. And it added SOMETHING to the dull room. 

After filling up a decent section, she began painting and adding color... yet, she dropped her brush when familiar "wan"'s were shouted and quick, heavy footsteps ran down the hall.

[TW: Mild Alcoholism]

Slow, wavering steps...putting his hands against the nearest wall to support himself...A slight mumbling about how he really should have double-checked the alcohol content of that bottle before he had finished the whole glass...Phantom was definitely feeling a little more light-headed than usual, and despite his nominally average alcohol tolerance, whatever had been in that brandy was really pushing it.

He groaned. This wasn't exactly the most dignified way he wanted anyone to come across him...But he didn't think he could make it all the way back to his own room before he would collapse. Curses for being on one corner of the ship.

So he looked around. A hazy voice at the back of his mind indicated that Medusa's room was two away, but then another voice argued that Trois was only one to the left and thus much easier to get to. Besides, he liked Trois - a little less than he loved Medusa, but still enough to trust her to allow him in. Hopefully she would be agreeable...

Knock knock!

You were all still shaken up by the sight of War, bled to death in the box backstage. Despite that, everyone did the best that they could to try and find out the killer of War. However, after an hour or two, the intercom sparkled to life once again, AnoN’s cruel yet playful voice flying through the halls.

DING DONG DING DONG

Hello Passengers, You should know its not nice to make someone this bored, so Its time for the Trial! Please meet outside the doors to the Banquet hall.