END OF CHAPTER FIVE ; EXECUTION

[themodsgrimm]

The Story Continues... END OF CHAPTER 5 - WEEK 523 Narrators Remain ; It's execution day, naughty murder children. Breakfast is served in the dining hall, all the better to fortify you for what is to come. Wherever you might wander in the castle, you will find yourself drawn to the foyer when the clock strikes not twelve, but ten. In the distance, there is the sound of clanking armor. Osamu Dazai appears, flanked on either side by suits of armor, escorting him to his punishment. He takes each step forward as he's prompted to, and unlike yesterday, he isn't crying; perhaps knowing that his Sensei is safe has given him some peace of mind. A moment later, the Dragon appears on the foyer's staircase. Her hand trails down the banister as she descends, and she takes her place at the head of the group, standing in front of what appears to be a wall. "Come," she says. "The execution awaits." You blink, and then it's there — a door leading to the outside. The Dragon steps through it. You have no choice but to follow. Welcome to your fifth execution post! Please see here for the results of yesterday's voting. In addition, make sure you fill out your CR Chart for Chapter 5! If you have any questions, please ask on our Discord server or ping us on plurk. Please direct pings for the NPC to Dana (Discord DMs preferred, then 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

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(frozen comment) EXECUTION

[themodsgrimm]

osamu dazai ; to be continued. When the group steps out the door, they find themselves in the woods again, though this time they find themselves near a patch of what looks like some kind of wild lettuce. They are urged to step aside by the suits of armor that usher Dazai forward, and as he walks past, he is engulfed by swaths of glimmering white light. When it fades, he is transformed. His usual attire is nowhere in sight. Instead, he finds himself clad in a simple, homespun dress. His feet are bare. At first, the Narrators watching may think that they are simply imagining things, but with each step he takes his hair gets longer - longer and longer and longer, until by the time he comes to a stop at the edge of the patch of lettuce, it's so long as to be piled up onto the ground. His clothing also seems to grow tighter and tighter - to the point that anyone listening closely will hear his laborious breathing as he struggles to get enough air past the squeezing of his dress. There is a long moment where it seems like, perhaps, nothing will happen. And then his hair moves, of its own accord. It winds himself in circles, obscuring his face, settling itself against his neck, draping itself over his body until Dazai is trapped in a cocoon of his own hair. Another moment, then - and then the hair begins to tighten itself around him. There's a choked, wheezing sound; he struggles to keep his balance and stumbles. The hair grows tighter and tighter, as if catching him in a vice grip - what little they can see of his face makes it clear that his eyes are bulging. It's as if the hair is attempting to press something out of him, and after a few seconds more, what that is becomes obvious - he coughs and golden ink seeps out of his mouth, out of his nose and ears, whatever opening it can find. It forms in a puddle around him, and he struggles to break free. Until, finally - when there is no more ink left to gather - he goes still. The hair loosens from around him, somewhat, but does not fall away. Instead, the roots of the lettuce patch ripple the ground as they move beneath the surface and come to a stop under him. They force their way upward through the dirt and wind themselves around him, dragging him back down into the earth a moment later. Silence falls over the group, and you can't help but wonder: The story of Osamu Dazai has come to an end... or has it?

LOOSE ENDS

[themodsgrimm]

[ Following the execution of Dazai, everyone will be led to the grand foyer. The ornate clock opens beneath the face, revealing a compartment in which a large glass container is unveiled to the eyes of everyone present. Two spouts lead from the interiors of the clock into the glass container. From one side comes a stream of gold ink and from the other, a little less than half as much purple ink ink. Once the stream of purple ink stops, there is a pause - and then a stream of crimson ink comes from the same spout, an amount a little less than twice as much as the purple. When all three colors mix into the container, it appears to be black. The Dragon watches the ceremony with the ceremony with reverence and sadness alike.

Lord El-Melloi II and Evan Hansen will find themselves overcome with a sudden burning sensation. Many phantom feelings pass them all at the same time: their feet undergo a sensation like they're being ignited with flame, their hearts are going to be pulled out of their chests, and there is the faintest feeling as though a blade is cutting across their necks - the roulette wheel spins for how their death is going to be carried out as partnerless until—

It stops.

They feel perfectly fine, like everything is slotting back into place. A flicker of red string is seen connecting the two of them before it is gone - almost a trick of the light.

The Dragon, having surveyed over everything hums a soft note, for once sounding.... pleased. ]

... they came through for you. [ She turns back to the rest of the Narrators and announces. ] The partnerless have been spared.

[ There is a pause - if the Narrators were expecting to receive tokens for the Wishing Well, they'll be disappointed; no such thing happens. Instead, she speaks to dismiss them. ]

You may take your leave.

[ The Dragon will remain for questions. ]

[alchemenace]

[ well somewhere in between the trauma of that execution, varian will remember to ask-- ]

Where's Pod? Could I-- I'd like to take care of him if possible. In their stead.

[ maybe pod ownership is cursed but the little robot shouldn't be left alone :/ ]

[themodsgrimm]

[varian's a good boy]

... it's possible.

[She'll make a gesture with her hand to conjure up a tiny little door. It will open and Pod will fly out, moving to join Varian.]

Take care of each other.

[alchemenace]

... Thanks.

[ gives pod a few pats. ]

AFTERMATH

[themodsgrimm]

[For your reactions and subsequent threading for Sunday.]

[selfinserting]

[Evan watches most of the display with rapt attention. There's a growing look of anguish and panic as the proceedings continue, and he keeps staring on in horror until the ink starts to flow. That's when he abruptly looks down, unable to watch any longer. After a few long seconds, his eyes slide closed, trying to halt a sudden flow of tears. He looks like he's fighting not to be sick.

He doesn't make a sound or a movement as the sensations start up, just stays frozen in place, waiting until... They stop, and he's safe. He lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, and then immediately turns to leave, reaching up to push away the tear tracks on his face. He doesn't say a word to anyone. He needs to be anywhere but here.]

[londonstar]

[ waver...looks as bad as expected.

by the morning, the side of his face that's been punched is obviously swollen and the other eye is swollen-- but from crying.

that said, he doesn't cry now. he forces himself to watch. this was his fault, after all. his incompetence and haughtiness caused dazai to give his own life up so that he could live another week.

he looks on, forcing himself to stare as the ink is squeezed out of dazai. it's disgusting, it's horrifying, but he forces himself to watch until the end.

the feeling of death consuming him is barely registered. in fact, if waver died right now, he might even be happy. but of course, he knows that won't happen. as soon as it's over... waver sighs. his shoulders shake, but he won't cry. not in public. ]

[discardia]

[ Hi, Waver.

There's a palm on your back, but Cardia won't say anything. ]