Take Responsibility.

[trustharder]

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."

Comments

[wokeupdead]

You always have a say in what you do.

[There's still that determined undercurrent but she sounds pretty beat up right about now.]

[happysweets]

Then our say right now is our lives against his.

...You heard him before, didn't you? Misa-Misa doesn't think that someone's walking out of this courtroom now without someone else dying. It could be one person, or it could be twenty-five people. That's what our say is, right now.

...I'm sorry. No one wanted everyone to leave here alive more than Misa-Misa. Honest.

[wokeupdead]

[She just shakes her head. She understands that this is something that Misa wouldn't understand. It's a detective thing and even then it's pretty uniquely Her.]

I can't look at it like numbers. If there is someone I can save, I will save them. No matter who they are.

[Except she can't save him and it's tearing her up inside.]

[happysweets]

...You're a good policewoman, then.

[ But in her eyes, there can't be crime without punishment. ]

[wokeupdead]

...Thank you.

[If only there was a way to make it so this situation never had to occur in the first place. Even if it was caused by two weirdos who were bored and wanted a fight to the death.]