It felt incredibly uncomfortable, to have his face smooshed and pressed around by the toxic chain. Grigori was still not entirely awake, and his stomach grumbled from hunger. His mind was clouded from the experiences of yesterday too. His back ached from his terrible sleeping spot, his neck sore from an awkward.

All of this, to say, that he wasn't sure what the point of this was. THe people laughed at him, laughed their pretty little faces off. It stung, surely, yet he couldn't trust their reactions as genuine. Especially when the figure he recognized as jayden cross laughed alongside the rest of the crowd. Why would they laugh at him for such a silly face? Isn't that the point of them anyway?

But it did hurt. It rocked his already precarious position of self-doubt and loathing, and he barely managed to cling to the ledge. "Alright, alright... you can all stop it now..."

Except they didn't. Couldn't? Didn't want to? All his bosses laughed, and laughed, and the chant started in earnest. Their eyes all focused on him and the other two enchanted to perform. Did they all need to focus on him? Their eyes, the ones that could see right through him, all intently squared on his body. His face.

Fear built up in the mind and replaced and shame or self-degredations. "Stop it... please, look away..."

THey must not know. Could not know. If any of them found out what he'd seen in the mask...

He closed his eyes, and hoped they all laughed for his looks rather than what lie beneath the surface.

---

Tl;dr
 - Not much here, Greg will NOT join the suffering builds character arc of howard slayte and Shred.
 - Doesn't like the act, but doesn't think much of it
 - Until he realizes all his bosses are staring at him, and he remembers his vision from the chamber of desires
 - Is then afraid and scared and needs mom to come pick him up

The morning, perhaps, takes Ettie by surprise. She yelps a bit as she's awaken by Andrew Fisher 's shout and scrambling - and it takes a second for her to regain her bearings.

But, as things click and she glances to Andrew, she cocks her head in clear confusion. "What wrong..? Floor is cold, cold makes hungry faster," Ettie spoke, in an attempt to explain herself. "Didn't want friend to be cold." There was no reason to force him to bear with that, and there was no saying whether the mochi would keep being provided forever...

But, at least this time, it is. Food is eaten - Ettie wrinking her nose at the sickly-sweetness - and then, comes the Laughter.

At first, Ettie is a bit taken aback in seeing Andrew's laughter at their wardmates' struggle. Was it really that funny? It didn't seem like it to her - and yet... Before she knew it, she'd find herself being made to laugh as well. Against her will, little chuckles hiccupped up from her chest - and this loss of control sent a chilling feeling through her. She didn't want to do this. Why was she doing this?

She digs her nails into her arms, as if in an attempt to stop herself - but to no avail. It hurts. But all she can do is laugh. It's all Munkidori!

...

... For the most part, the days would pass in an almost auto-pilot blur. Ettie was still the supportive pup, always backing up and seeking the company of friends such as Andrea Vaneau , Johanna Joy , and even Tempest Quinn . But, wardmates she didn't know quite as well - but still considered friend - like Eris Halla , Isaac Merlo , Thea Naito , Knight Naito , and more, had her support. Noone would be alone in this, and she'd make sure of it best she could.

Though, the smiles and encouraging words she passed them always hid her own growing pains - a growing depression, from being separated from her family. From having not had so much as a glimpse of the sun, or a chance to run and play as she pleased.

(The dreams ended up being a place where she could find some place to hide away, and let out the despairing feelings she had pent up.)

But, with the passing days, came some respite. Because soon, the Ward's turn to visit the Chamber of Desires. To have the mask off, to breathe freely, to be able to see her wardmates... There was comfort in this.

Ettie also couldn't help but find something dazzling, about the strange mask they had lined up for. It shined in beauteous colors, not unlike when her pokemon would terastalize (though the thought of them made her heart twist a little.) Was this related, she wondered?

All the same, as she was beckoned forth...-

---

SPOILER: Click to show

-... She would find herself in the wilds, moving through the woods at a breakneck pace, faster than she'd ever been able to move on her own. The wind rushed past her, the sun shone upon her through the gaps in the canopy above - breaths puffing fast and heavy through her fangs out of exertion and excitement alike. She did not need to look to know that a handful of her packmates were moving with her - working hard to keep pace.

This was a chase. This was a hunt, something at the back of her mind whispered. The signs of it were there - hoofprints, broken foliage, the smell of blood intoxicatingly filling the air past the familiar smells of moss and earth. Their prey was injured - it was likely to tire long before the pack would, and the pattern of the tracks implied a limp.

Even if it hadn't been injured, though... The thrill of the chase would've been enough to keep Ettie going for as long as she wanted. She knew these woods like the back of her claws - nothing could elude her, and she was every bit a persistence hunter as her kin were.

And there - not far ahead! She could hear it before she saw it, but a Stantler was in full run; or at least, as close to one as it could manage with the deep claw-gash in one of its legs. Catching glimpses of it through the trees, Ettie grinned - eyes wild with excitement - before barking wordlessly to her packmates. She saw out of the corners of her eyes as the fastest of the hunting party would split off to either side and run ahead - the black and gold of Duchess, and the pale blue of Maria.

Their prey was as good as caught, Ettie knew. Because before long, the Stantler cried out with alarm as Duchess and Maria suddenly burst out from the foliage ahead of it, bringing it to a sudden stop. Not about to go out without a fight, it would initially attempt to Bulldoze through them...

... This distraction and pause was enough for Ettie to act. With a rush of speed, she charged at her prey from behind - striking it with an Accelerock that sent it stumbling, and allowed her to leap upon it! Sharp claws dug into its hide, as the Stantler thrashed and bucked beneath her. Its antlers began to glow with psychic power, clearly another attempt to fight back--

-- But the rest of the hunting party was upon it, teeth sinking into limbs to pull it down to the ground. The Stantler cried out once more, keening and desperate - but its struggles were to no avail. Ettie's jaws closed around the Stantler's throat... And it soon fell still.

Ettie was filled with satisfaction, over yet another successful hunt. Her pack would be eating well. The taste of the blood on her tongue had her salivating at the idea of a meal - but that would wait. First, they wanted to get this meal home. And so, Anne and Zeit both took a hold of the Stantler, carrying it with them as they began returning home...

... Though, it's partway into the trek back to the den, that something catches Ettie's attention. Passing along a pond, she sees something strange in the reflection - and pausing to gaze at the reflection, it's almost startling, what she sees staring back.

A Lycanroc, some form of bipedal variant - though not quite the same as a Midnight Lycanroc. Its fur was white as snow - save for the black fur around its prominent claws - with bright red eyes, and a pale pink nose. The white is soft, almost cloudlike - whereas the black is sleek and shiny, almost as if it were onyx metal. Its tail - not curled, but straight like a Midday or Dusk Lycanroc - gives a slight twitch, before it begins to wag as the beast's ears perk.

Ettie truly was kin now. She was closer to her pack than ever before. She cannot help an almost raspy laugh, smiling bright. "Am... Different." She murmurs to herself, happy, filled with an almost strange sense of euphoria in seeing what she had become. "Am... Me."

And... Was it to do with the chain? She sees the purple Toxic Chain now, hidden in the mane of fur around her neck, curled around like a collar. It has long, prominent spikes that jut out from her mane - darker colored and hardened, like that of a Lycanroc's spikes.

Hearing a bark from of of her packmates though, Ettie glances over - and she moves to catch up with them...--

---

-- But almost as quicky as she had been drawn into this experience, she is shunted out of it. Ettie stumbles a bit, dazed by the sudden shift back to reality. She already missed the sun and breeze, the smell of the woods, everything that had embodied freedom.

Alongside her wardmates though, Ettie takes solace at least in the warmth of the shower. A comfort that she didn't realize she needed, really.

But still, the dreamlike experience that that shining mask had given her lingers in her mind - even as she is soon brought back to the ward to laugh, eat, and sleep. Perhaps, if she endures, she'll be able to be like that..? Deep down, she wishes to be able to be with her pack - to run and play freely again...

It had been hellish from the repetitiveness of dreams to the hellish beatings from the chained creature below them to the torture of simply being ridiculed by others. It became a cycle, waking up in almost the same degree of cold sweats, and enduring the rest, the only prayer from the doctor being that he’d be the only one he knew having to go about it.

It had started simple, Laurence having to scarf down the mochi with as much regret as possible, hoping it would at least subdue that growing and demanding feeling of sludge going through his body. It’d been a week now, and it had seemed like clockwork the toxic chain would do as much damage to his system as it could before the first meal would be given. Sometimes if he hadn’t eaten what he could without having it come back up, it’d linger, like a hangover that refused to be cured, having him silently wish for death to come and sweep him up like the mochi they’d pick up from the basement floors.

Today, however, would be different. That repetitiveness would be broken right after he’d eaten his “fill” of mochi. A tightness would surround his throat, playfully teetering on the edge of crushing his windpipe and leaving him gasping for air, before he’d find himself going towards the center of the ward, his destination. Right towards that damned Baboon of a Warden. Munkidori hadn’t been gentle with its incoming person, dropping him quite haphazardly onto the ground with a thud as Laurence gripped his chest for a moment, almost hoping that the lighter pressure would trick himself into pulling in some sort of air. But the monkey had little care of how long it’d take him, the game would begin…It raised a hand in the air.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

A megalopolan would ask, the translator looking at the writhing doctor and the Warden with such a stoic expression. Laurence continued to clutch his chest, trying to bring life into his already stressed lungs. A second passed…Then two. Then three. And once Laurence could get an actual breath in, he gave the paw a look, spotting only 3, but when it came to his lips…

“Four.”

“The answer is three.”

The megalopolan responded almost immediately, the monkey snickered in glee before its eyes glowed a proud purple, the aura tensing around Laurence as well before he was sent flying toward the group of prisoners watching. Hurdling into a few, who were unlucky to catch the hurtling man.

“Come back up and take another guess. We shall do it until you answer correctly.”

The interpreter said once again, waiting for Laurence to stand up. The doctor took a moment but found that there was little reward in provoking it, rather he walked back to the center. This time, the monkey raised 2 fingers. Laurence sighed, fixing his lips to say the answer, but once again it came out wrong.

"Five."

And in almost the same manner, he found himself being flung again, this time, towards another direction. 

"Come up once again", the megalopolan said again, his blank tone only bringing a wary wave of fatigue through the doctor. This would be a long hour. 

---

W62q4ZHi

TLDR:
* Laurence goes through the motions 
* Laurence is then chosen for the Laughing Hour 
* Laurence gets fucked over multiple times in the number game