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Bozo
@BrokenPromise and @FamishedPants?
Everything passed in a blur.
Marianne Roche found herself up early the next morning with dark lines under her eyes, standing by a washing-machine at the first floor laundromat and tapping her hospital slipper-clad foot as she waited for the clothes to finish tumbling round and round in the washing machine. She wore a hospital gown which was the only thing she found in her(?) room, and it lay fresh on the edge of her bed when she awoke. So, naturally, she changed into it and the first thing on her mind was to get her bloody sundress into the washing machine. Even though everyone knew where the blood came from, it was a grizzly sight nonetheless. Her few belongings and other noteworthy things of interest to her were scattered on a nightstand by her(?) bedside and she had quickly stuffed them into the pockets of the hospital gown.
Of course, we weren't going to talk about the fact that she woke up and found herself in a completely different room to the one she fell asleep in. She would later learn that this was one level above (was that bear trying to kill her?) the old quarters. This meant more stair climbing, and more exercise for the Infinite Herbalist. Maybe that's just what she needed. Besides, this room was a lot more to her style. There were fresh plants sitting by the windowsill and a humidifier and special temperature control. It was warm and wet in her room, just the way she liked it, and just the right temperature and moisture for the few flowers to grow on her windowsill. There was a cleaner desk too housing two terrariums with what looked like almost ancient mossy plants and another with succulents the herbalist had never even seen in person before. Of course, it also had several small pieces of personalised equipment, such as her preferred ink (black) and type of pen—as if someone had set the room up just for her.
Well, that made looking around the Mono Shoppe some more the night prior quite pointless...
She did find something interesting, however. Was it really pointless after all, then? Hmm hmm.
---
What happened? Everything feels like such a haze...
The herbalist found her head spinning as she tried to recollect the memory of the trial. At some point, the tables turned on her in her fitful rage, and both Davis and Bliss mouthed off at her. In hindsight and with a clearer head, she deserved it. Bliss was not the murderer in the end, after all. It would be best to make friends, not enemies, in this place. It would be the safest.
Speaking of friends and enemies, a new development arose: Lucas was the killer and Davis was a traitor.
Marianne could only remember her head spinning at the revelation of the killer, and the feeling sick to her stomach after the rollercoaster ride, after just finding out Davis' true identity as the mastermind. She regretted biting back any and all insults she had wanted to hurl towards the man. He deserved them all, for trapping these innocent people in here. Even Lucas. Even though he was...no longer as alive as he used to be, anymore.
Was she going crazy, she wondered? The very most that happened watching his execution was a steely coldness that did not go away until Marianne Roche slunk away from the group, happy to be on her own for a spell and finish what she was in the resort area for in the first place, and got some rest. Some responded with anger to the night's events. The Infinite Herbalist was merely disappointed. Mondatta was a good person, and...Lucas got what he deserved.
It was a dog-eat-dog world out there, after all. It's too bad it was Mondoggo that bit the bullet, so to speak.
As she got bored of waiting and went to exit the laundromat, hospital gown and all its revealing glory be damned, she caught sight of a very unfamiliar individual, who it took her a bit to identify (if only thanks to the little skit-video Monokuma had for all of them.) It was a curious, groggy Infinite Archer, prowling the premises in search of...breakfast, most likely. She saw some other figures roaming around, but most looked indistinguishable from the rest; a lot like current-day zombies.
The events from the night prior really had hit everyone hard.
Still, there was something Marianne had to do, before anything else.
She clutched the decorative box in her hands tighter and grit her teeth. There was someone who deserved an apology.
Trailing the wispy strawberry blonde locks of the male (he was most definitely male, right?) Infinite Archer, she made her way to the break room, and there was both happy and a mixture of other emotions at seeing the Infinite Nanny, looking very haggard, at a table. There were some new characters in the area too, and what was scrappily titled an Affection Booth that Marianne could appreciate. She would introduce herself to new characters later; this problem had to be solved now.
"Good morning." the Infinite Herbalist spluttered, still standing a few feet away from Bliss Buckley. One hand held the decorative box and the other was balled into a fist so hard that her nails left little red indents even on her dark skin. She bit her tongue.
"I did not have the chance to give this to you when I received it." she continued coldly, almost robotically. No, coldness like that wouldn't work. But what else would you expect at this point? It wasn't like the two were best friends. Or even friends. Or even acquaintances anymore.
"I thought you could take it and make better use of it than I. Here." she placed the box on the table, still not getting too close to the Infinite Nanny. Maybe it was the inner frenchwoman in her but she still clung onto a sense of pride that made her hold her head high—but it drooped nonetheless.
"Bliss Buckley." she began, her voice a little softer, "I am sorry for the things I may have said to you yesterday. You were not the killer of Mondatta, or the one who hurt Krista. I understand that now."
She began to turn away, fiddling a little with the pendant of her cord necklace and biting her lower lip hard enough to make the dry skin come off in flakes. Unnerving and awkward, that's what she felt.
"Do not take it to heart or anything," she began, coughing a little so that the rest of her words were only semi-audible. Somewhere she hoped the infinite nanny heard them. Somewhere else, her proud self, was hopeful she didn't.
"You dress nicely for someone s- I mean. You dress nicely. This hat will look nice on you. It is a nice hat."
Quel soulagement! (What a relief!) It...it is still over.
"And t'es une belle dame. You are a pretty woman. I hope this gift will improve your morning. Adieu. I leave my distinguished apologies and sentiments with you."
And with that the Infinite Herbalist skulked away, into the thick (not many were present, but still) of the breakroom. She found herself eyeing the Infinite Archer at the espresso machine, a quick pang of déjà vu gripping her as she recalled that was the exact same place where she first properly saw Lucas Carsen: Infinite Paranormal Investigator.
She did a double take. Was she able to approach him where he was?
Perhaps he would notice her standing blankly by a counter where she could get some food (cold breakfast sandwiches, a staple diet) and staring shamelessly in his general direction.
Ah! Still, she hoped he did not.
It would be bad if he did.