Entry tags:
Pretty Pretty Princess Group 3
As predicted, the clock chimes ten--anyone who is still milling around will find themselves inexorably drawn to the seat with their name plate sitting in front of it. At this table, the plates, cups and food spread across the place setting vanish. In their places appears a board. Simultaneously, the locks of both chests pop and the lids creak open and players will find their phone screens populating with the game rules.
Game Rules
Items & Effects
Turn In & Winning Criteria
Items & Effects
Turn In & Winning Criteria

no subject
So is largely a game of chance. Well, let's get to it, then.
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no subject
Let's start, yes. I don't care about the order of play.
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no subject
Finally, I'm Thing 1 after all this time.
(no subject)
(no subject)
TURN 1
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[He pokes through the box for a minute before he selects a fancy hairpin, sticks it in his hair.]
Hey, not bad. It's even kinda my color.
[He reaches out, almost unthinking, to hold B's hand.]
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Nicely done.
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TURN 2
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[A couple of seconds later, a flower pops out of his hair. And then another. And another. Soon there are a half dozen.]
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TURN 3
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...uh. Did you guys see that?
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TURN 4
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[Right up until a sparrow lands in his hair. And a chipmunk comes over to hang out on his boot.]
...uh. Since when do we have animals that aren't horses?
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Turn 6
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[And you know what? He doesn't... know what any of those other things do, and with some of the changes some of these things are causing, he doesn't exactly want to risk it.]
[He grabs another hairpin.]
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1/2
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Turn 7
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[Collar time.]
[He reaches out a hand toward B, palm up.]
My turn, dude.
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Turn 8
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[This scene is another featuring his mother, though by the glimpse in the mirror here, he's about eleven, this time. Hurricane is folding laundry and making awkward attempts at conversation. His mother is trying to work; she tells him to gtfo of the apartment until eleven so she can actually get something done. Hurricane reminds her to leave the door unlocked, this time, before he goes.]
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Turn 9
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[...and he is not in the mood for more sharesy stuff after that last one.]
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no subject
What's done is done~
[ The words ring in your ears as though spoken behind your head and a shimmery haze (was that always there? Perhaps only now you can see it) prevents you from seeing any of the rest of the room beyond your own table); before you can move, there is the sound of a bell tolling--once, twice, three times… all the way to twelve. As the strikes continue, whatever damage has been done to you or the room around you, whatever oddities have occurred--it reverses. Furniture becomes unbroken, fuzzy animals disappear, jewelry, makeup, and strange compulsions--they disappear.
(So too, for the few of you who were hurt--
Or died--
The blood all creeps back whence it came, wounds sewing themselves together as though with invisible string, organs reanimating upon the twelfth toll. Only those who wore the crown and the collar will find visible effects left behind: a pretty gown for a pretty princess, and the tatto (and lingering urge to obey) for those servants.
Enter into Endgame ]