trusthell | Take Responsibility.

And after all has been said and done and all clues have been found, those large steel doors at the end of the hallway open up.

The elevator both is and isn't a particularly nice one; it rides smoothly and quickly and it's obviously been kept-up, but there's nothing on the interior walls, lending a claustrophobic feeling to what's already a relatively small space, particularly with all of you in there. (Well. Almost all of you.) No distractions from what just happened, nothing to take your mind off of considering what might, just you and your fellow Survivors in an unadorned steel box. There's no visible panel for buttons, either; looks like it's pre-programmed; at least the ride is a relatively short one, though it's difficult to tell the distance traveled before the door opens again.

You would be forgiven for your initial thought being that it opens into a void.

It isn't complete darkness, but it's enough of a visual shift from the elevator that it probably takes your eyes some time to adjust; instead of the usual concrete and steel, the walls are a dark, heavy black, making the room look far smaller than it is. There aren't any corners to it, either; the room is tightly circular, complimenting the setup in the center of it.

In the center of the room is a circle of podiums, twenty-seven in total, arranged so that everyone standing at them can see each other. So everyone can look each other in the eyes, if they so choose. The podiums are interlocked - there's no cutting across the center of the circle, and for good reason, it looks like there's a lot of nothing down there where the floor should be, just a massive black pit in the center - and each is bearing the title of the person who's assigned to stand at it. No names, just adjectives, emblazoned across two brass panels on the very top and the front of each podium.

Affixed to the podium itself is a glass touchscreen panel; it's dark for now, but it'll probably be relevant later. At least the glass is shatterproof, in case things get heated.

In general, though, all of the podiums are identical, except for the one intended for Zagi. The podium that should bear Adaptable's title has had a black cloth draped over it, and a copy of Zagi's profile photo is sitting on top of it, framed and colorless, an image in greyscale.

It's hard to tell where the Kingmaker's voice comes from, when it does; it seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, like it's being piped in from someplace you can't see. But he's very definitely audible when he does speak.

"Adaptable has been taken from you. Looks like the guilty among you is attempting to end the exercise by carrying out Rule Seven. It's up to you whether they're held responsible for their actions or not."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Maybe the person he attacked was the one using the chair for self defense.

[Nope!]

Even if Zagi did ambush him, and he had no choice but to kill him, if the murderer was really someone who cared about the group, they definitely should have said something by now.

The fact that they haven't yet is way more telling of their intentions.

[ She hopes she sounds a little bit like Light here. ]

[Even Speedwagon is hot!

Hot under the collar, more like.]

I thought about just getting it out of the way, you know?

Then they better not expect us to hear them out when we figure out who it is.

Maybe.

A lot of gradual bleeding out could have killed 'im.

But then there would be some knife marks and not just claw marks on the chair.

Edited 2016-03-05 18:38 (UTC)

Do you think it really could have been, like, a fight to the death?

[Nope.]

It could have been a challenge of some sort.

[ That's a better alternative.

...except he's the idiot wearing a sweater, so he has to take that and his puffy vest off anyway. At least he has a white plaid shirt underneath it!

His scrawny nerd arms are injury free, thank goodness for that. ]

Well, if they were grabbin' it with their claws, it could get all clawed up.

Maybe. Maybe not. A lot of us like to fight! A few of us have said we'd fight people here if we got bored enough. So maybe a fight got out of hand for all we know.

On the other hand, it's like I told the detective. A lot of us like to kill things.

Maybe he just found someone else who likes to kill things.

[He shrugs.]

Who knows! It's hard to say for sure.

[ehh, that's fine.

Sigrun sheds her coat and pulls her black sweater off entirely, and while she's got her scars the only sliced wound is the stitching she had when she got here on her arm, which is looking better thanks to Bruce's treatment of it.

Additionally, her right shoulder is heavily bruised, because someone didn't put ice on it.

Enjoy?? She has nice muscles???]