PROLOGUE : TRIAL

[themodsgrimm]

The Story Continues... PROLOGUE - WEEK 037 Narrators Remain ; Wakey wakey, naughty murder children. It's a lovely Saturday, after all. Breakfast is served piping hot at its usual time and all of the evidence has been removed from the scenes of yesterday. No matter how you choose to spent your morning though, the clock will begin to chime the moment both hands reach the large, ornate twelve. Before your eyes materializes a door...but not just any door. Unlike the door leading to the festival, this door sits primly and properly right in front of the foyer. Whether you exit the castle on your own or you feel a friendly, invisible push, you begin to walk under an arc of wisterias. Behind you, the clock continues to chime with every step you take. By the time the time the clock strikes twelve, you've entered a beautiful garden. In front of you is a long table, 19 seats on each side. Around the garden are several glass cases containing evidence collected yesterday. As noon intensifies on the sun-shaped clock, you'll find Dragon at the head of the table, a glass-covered rose near her right hand. Tick tock, Narrators. You have nine hours to deliberate. Welcome to your first trial post! Please see here for the OOC summary of events from yesterday's investigation. In addition, please be sure to vote! Please see the voting page on how to vote, as we will have two special things to vote for. Voting will close at 9pm EST/6pm PST! If you have any questions, please ask on our Discord server or ping us on plurk. Please direct pings for the NPC to Dana (decals), as she will be taking point for today's NPC, and the moderator team will be on deck for all other questions. full navigation. locations taken (statuses) stories (profiles) info & faq wishing well private conversations

Comments

[disclosures]

[She raises her hand.]

I'm five foot three.

Does anybody really think height is a good indicator of the culprit?

[sanguinairy]

If one was nearby, but I don't suppose there would have been much of a point jumping from there... At least not in terms of ambush.

[spondulix]

[GONNA CHECK OUT A DEAD BODY anyways, he's going to be peering closely at the puncture wound on the neck - how big is it?]

[faceripper]

[ Fane brings a hand to his chin/jawbone thoughtfully ]

...And what does a lawyer do, exactly? I can assume it has to do with your system of justice naturally, but I've not heard that title.

[ in medievalish fantasy land if you commit a crime you're just fucked ]

[thesettingsun]

That's true... But it takes years of training to stand like that, you can't just slip on ballerina shoes and balance perfectly.

[resumed]

[A Look from someone shorter than Ion.]

Did anyone memorize everyone's heights from those tapestries in the dining hall? That would have helped.

[thesettingsun]

...You're even shorter than I thought.

[alttitude]

Ah, so you came to someone with experience?

[ - it lacks the usual lightness of his tone, but at least he's getting closer to joking.]

It's too thin to be a knife or a sword wound. It isn't wide enough to be either.

[toughchoices]

[stares at varian]

When did you take it?

[concasse]

And all you bastards better put that shit back later...!

[alchemenace]

[ wow don't pigeonhole him he could be a ballerina if he wanted to. and if he wasn't terminally clumsy ]

No, you're right, I don't think they stood on their tiptoes in a puddle of ink to knock out Ion. He. He probably doesn't need that much to knock him out, either.

[randori]

[ He'd been so focused on the food stalls during the festival when he should've spent more time looking at everything else...

Is there anything distinguishable— ink splatters, colors or words? Decorations from a food stall or game stall? ]

[asswipe]

I haven't seen anything like that in my dorm, but the knives aren't the only thing that went missing. Someone took a letter opener from the tailor, and — some clothes? For whatever reason.

[toughchoices]

Looks that way.

[faceripper]

Oh, yes. Naturally. I committed all of their contents to memory.

[ because of course he fucking did ]

I would have recorded them, but as there is nary even some parchment but the one that I would wish to keep unblemished, memorization it was.

[unromanceable]

Is that something you can say definitively? There really could be any number of reasons to go in that direction depending on the circumstances Thursday night. And, if you absolutely had to walk through ink all over the floor with no time to clean up, you'd at least do what you could to obscure your footprints as you went, right?

[thesettingsun]

Then unless you hid clinging to a tapestry, which I doubt could support anyone's weight, I doubt there's much reason to jump.

[asswipe]

No.

[DRYLY.]

[alttitude]

[Thanks Fitz!!

But nah, Jae-ha's here for answers just as much as anyone else.]

She bled red and it smelled of iron, not ink, before we came here - if that's what you're asking.

[concasse]

[SIGHING]

I'll tell you a story later, kid. Let's focus on the trial for now.

[randori]

Smudgy too, if the ink... blood? [ he's not going to think about it ] was wet. But that means it happened after all that with Gi-Gan, right? Why would somebody mess with other people after that?!

[function]

[ ugh!! at least they don't sass her back :/ ]

Fine.

[ she's gonna double check the armory. we know weapons have been rearranged, but is anything missing? ]

[randori]

Fine, I'll hold you to it!

[unromanceable]

I'm really not sure what's more concerning... if the knives were used for the murder, or if they weren't, and someone stole them for a totally unrelated reason.

[thesettingsun]

He might not be that short, but he is that fragile, which... basically anyone who encountered him breathing heavy from just walking around would have known.

[Sorry, Ions.]