( It's hardly the worst way they've ever died. )

Day

[It doesn't take long to collect their belongings and do as their tablet instructs, shuffling their way up the stairs to the first floor, where they finally realize they know where they are. And once they're there... they pull out their tablet, and slowly move to make a post.]

Hey. I'm... [here? back?] I'm okay.

[What else should they say? They feel like they should say something, but there's no real desire to. Still, they should try at least.]

I'm sorry.

[It doesn't really sound like their heart is in it though. Their unease still grows and they punch the button to end the post.]

Evening, post-lockdown

[Of course, they eventually realize what's going on, an unhappy realization that sends them fleeing from the Hospital they woke up in as fast as they can. Once they've finally stopped for the night and exhausted themselves digging around the shed they're staying in, they remember something. It'd completely slipped their mind in trying to catch up to Quark and then... everything else, but...

And so a second post goes up that evening.]

A few days ago I talked to somebody, um... about writing down all the different monsters that've people've seen here. To see if we run into the same ones ever. I still want to do that, for the monster guide thing.

[... they're probably going to get people trying to talk them out of that, but for some reason they don't... really care. In a different way than normal.]

i didnot want it to e n d like t h i s

*After that cheerful message the post switches over to video. Its notably dark and lit only by the tablet's backlight and starts with a shot of Brian's masked face. The red frowny face might seem more fitting than usual. After a few moments he swings the tablet around to show a piece of rubble that he's written "GOODBYE" on in blue crayon. It holds there for about 5-10 seconds before the post switches back to text.*

F)Q)>Gl

((ASCII85 code at the end translates to "sorry." Brian'll respond in text until he becomes too weak to do so.))

Most of you probably don't know me — I thought I'd remedy that. My name's Hawke. And since I've got barely anything to my name here, I have a proposition.

[ a pause. Hawke smiles in a way reminiscent of a used car salesman; here's where the sales pitch comes in. you've been here like 72 hours bruh... ]

I happen to be very skilled at... doing things. For money. And from what I hear, it shockingly isn't sunshine and daisies here. [ cheerfully: ] Are you tired of having to walk fifteen miles, uphill both ways, in the snow? Afraid you'll die here, alone and a virgin? Do you have an embarrassing rash you're too shy to get a cure for? I'll send would-be lovers your way, settle arguments, do anything you don't want to do yourself. Getting involved in other people's petty affairs is one of my strong suits.

I've picked my fair share of locks, and I'm good at finding things. And killing things. And... generally doing things to things. I'll do anything for a price, no matter how morally bankrupt!

[ best slogan ever. there's a missing disclaimer, though: might double-cross you. maybe. 1 out of 10 times. ]

One rule — I don't do anything involving something small, cute, and furry, and I won't cross children. And no refunds. [ whoops, that's actually three rules. ] I'll take payment in whatever passes for coin here. Any valuables you have, I'll be happy to take off your hands! Especially if it's sharp or shiny.

Don't all rush me at once.

[ HAWKE OUT. ]