(Pre-Show) The Barracks

[Violet]

She didn’t make it to the dojo, after all. Once leaving the park, Violet was assaulted by a plethora of reporters and media, and she spent the next several hours doing her best to talk about nothing. They pried into her personal life with questions and she did her best to reveal nothing at all while giving them the answers they sought. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to do such a thing: being a commander of a prominent militia, she had regular practice at bullshitting her way around media.

Once she made it into the greater corridors of the lobby, she spotted the guard by the barracks talking to a group of contestants, ushering them forward into the elevator he was so insistent about guarding earlier. Perking up, Violet saw this as her chance to finally get some sleep, and didn’t think twice as she jogged towards that glorious elevator.

This time, Mr. Doucheguard didn’t stand in her way as she entered the elevator and made her way up to the top. She could smell the fresh linens. As soon as the doors swooshed open, she pushed her way past the crowd and made her way to a rack far in the back, jumped inside, and closed the curtain. She didn’t bother looking for her duffel bag, or change out of her clothes. Sleep found her like a Mack truck on a dark highway.