Silvercat8900
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Stanley Pines wakes up on Monday morning, squinting his eyes in the sunlight streaming through the motel room blinds, and decides he's going to kill himself.
It doesn’t stick.
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Madame Odile came out of her tent and joined the group, Crafting book in hand. “What's happening?”
Isabeau smiled awkwardly. “I thought I saw something, but let me check again, I'm pretty sure it was nothing!”
“Wait, what do you think you saw?”
“It's kinda embarrassing, but--”
A darkless blur dashed out of the tent. Siffrin skidded to a stop in front of the party, spun on their heel, and unsheathed their dagger.
He was followed by Siffrin, Siffrin, Siffrin, and Siffrin.
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Having resumed their quest for the final Orb after Siffrin lost an eye, it seems the party can't catch a break. A group of strange Sadnesses are copying Siffrin, using the memories each party member has of him. Can everyone work through their false impressions and find the real Siffrin?
Bookmarked by Silvercat8900
12 Mar 2026
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Isabeau once joked that if he ever needed to get away with murder, he would make sure to ask Odile for help.
She didn’t mind the joke, in fact she tried to play into it. She was more ruthless than the others, scarier, and it was for the best to keep that comparison humorous. To limit her terrifying side to chilly glares and threats of spicy food. It stopped the others from dwelling on it long enough to ask questions, which in turn helped her keep certain things buried in the past.
Then Siffrin knocked on her door in the middle of the night and asked her for just such assistance. Suddenly it wasn’t a joke anymore.