[teenager in a murdergame, more like free grandchild]
[Honestly it's not totally unexpected to Daggar that she might have ended up in a prison, given some of things she and her party have done. Ending up in one alone is a bit more worrying. The rules about murder are definitely so.]
[That there was a non-zero number of kids here? She might be down for a little murder herself, once they managed to find the people actually in charge of things.]
[Things didn't get easier once the actual trials started, and made it clear more than once that these kids weren't above involving themselves even more deeply.]
[This had been a rough one.]
[But there were other people who obviously needed help more than Daggar did at the moment, and very conveniently they'd gathered en masse in the canteen. This is definitely not any kind of coping mechanism.]
[Regardless of who is unhealthily shoving down their trauma for the alleged sake of who, the end result is Arven having a large tray of simple but nourishing foods pushed across a table at him by a hardwood stump of an old woman. Yellow eyes peer at him seriously over the top of darkened glasses lenses. You know, the kind they definitely had in medieval fantasy settings, it's fine.]
You should at least drink the broth from the soup. Rehydrate.
no subject
[Honestly it's not totally unexpected to Daggar that she might have ended up in a prison, given some of things she and her party have done. Ending up in one alone is a bit more worrying. The rules about murder are definitely so.]
[That there was a non-zero number of kids here? She might be down for a little murder herself, once they managed to find the people actually in charge of things.]
[Things didn't get easier once the actual trials started, and made it clear more than once that these kids weren't above involving themselves even more deeply.]
[This had been a rough one.]
[But there were other people who obviously needed help more than Daggar did at the moment, and very conveniently they'd gathered en masse in the canteen. This is definitely not any kind of coping mechanism.]
[Regardless of who is unhealthily shoving down their trauma for the alleged sake of who, the end result is Arven having a large tray of simple but nourishing foods pushed across a table at him by a hardwood stump of an old woman. Yellow eyes peer at him seriously over the top of darkened glasses lenses. You know, the kind they definitely had in medieval fantasy settings, it's fine.]
You should at least drink the broth from the soup. Rehydrate.