Take Responsibility.

[wordsmithery]

Again, the elevator is waiting for you after the allotted time for investigation is over; it idles almost patiently at each floor, waiting for everyone to be on board before sending all of you up to the courtroom high above. Over a third of your original number is dead. The losses are made all the more apparent by the addition of several greyed-out portraits around the podium circle at the center of the room; Kira, Mercy, Judy, Nick, and Kimbley have all joined the ranks of the deceased, their podiums draped in black. Meanwhile, the lectern above stands empty. The Wordsmith waits for everyone to find their place in the circle before he speaks; once that much has been done, his voice can be heard easily throughout the room. "Welcome back, Apprentices. The past several days have been troublesome indeed, and I need not point out that your number has dropped significantly. But a matter even more pressing requires your attention at the moment. In accordance with Rule Seven, the guilty seeks to leave the university and rewrite history. If you wish to prevent that, hold them accountable and have them take responsibility for the fate of Incendiary." Nineteen Apprentices remain. However many leave here at the end of the day is up to you.

Comments

[uncouthhatcher]

Hey, just 'cause I'm dead doesn't mean I'm gone.

[... Generally that's what it means, but-- if those letters are the real deal, Silver can bet he's getting them from him.]

And you're not gonna fall back just because I'm not here, Silver. I believe in you. You're my best friend, my partner, and...

[...]

I mean, dunno what it is, but I do love ya. You're my family and you always will be.

[He'll pull away from Silver a little. Takes off his hat, fits it onto Silver's head.]

So take care of them for me, okay? Take care of all of it. Live, and kick Smitty's ass.

[feistytrader]

...I'll beat him up. Definitely.

[If he's not dead by the end of the week.]

I'll take good care of them.

[He gently touches the hat with his hands and. Tries to cry a little less. It's not working out, but he's trying. Gotta look strong for Gold and all.]

[uncouthhatcher]

[... Okay, he's gonna wipe Silver's eyes for him, but that's as sappy as he's getting. This is embarrassing.]

Thanks. I owe you one.

[feistytrader]

[...Don't smile when you're afraid, asshole.

Silver keeps quiet and nods his head, then pulls something out of his pocket.

Matches.]

Give that thing hell, okay?

[uncouthhatcher]

Plannin' on it.

[And he'll pocket it before heading off.]