CHAPTER SEVEN ; TRIAL

[themodsgrimm]

The Story Continues... CHAPTER 7 - WEEK 711 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. The garden is strangely silent and there are no snacks today...it seems as though you'll be left to your own devices. Welcome to your 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 or sooner if the game ICly elects so. 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

[themodsgrimm]

[As soon as Ion speaks and makes his choice out loud, the other two options vanish, and the scroll disappears. Something happens. In front of the crowd the winds begin to blow, warm and dry as a large sandy pit appears before them.

Ion and Souji will feel themselves being marched forward toward the pit and as they get closer they'll notice the thick sand shifting slowly, pulling downward on itself and anything close by.

Arabian nights are filled with many dangers, especially out in the desert. Ion's hands begin to itch the longer they look at the pit.

He knows what he must do.]

[sanguinairy]

[To Dragon's statement, he just offers a smile, soft in turn, and dips his head gently.]

...Thank you, too. [He's grateful, even after this.] I don't have any requests.

[Ion, on the other hand, gets a more apologetic look. But Souji doesn't say anything until after he makes his choice, and it's only when they're at the edge of the shifting pit that he opens his mouth again.]

I'm sorry for leaving this on your shoulders.

[fonlines]

[ He does know what he has to do, yes. Despite this being a willfully chosen death, the atmosphere different from how it had been for their other two Happily Ever Afters, there is still a solemnity around the moment, and it's one Ion won't draw out for longer than necessary.

... well, first. Even as his hands itch and begin to raise, to reach out for Souji's back, his head only tilts, and-- ]

Don't apologize. Simply answer this: are you satisfied with yourself, and all you've endeavoured to accomplish?

Have you been sincere with yourself, and all the others here?

[sanguinairy]

[It's a solemnity he doesn't allow to weigh him down, to hook into him in any meaningful way. He's facing the pit without any fear. Can he say that he's going to leave this game without any regrets at all? ...Of course not, no.

But as he thinks over Ion's questions carefully, he finds that his honest answers are a little kinder than he might have otherwise expected them to be.

So it's with a certain sort of lightness, and no small amount of relief to be done with this all, that he looks over his shoulder and beams.]

I am, and I have. I don't have any regrets. ...Thank you.

[That, at least, if he can't offer an apology.]

[fonlines]

[ Softly, as his hands fist briefly in the back of Souji's haori: ] Then... know that it was returned in kind—

[ Because Souji is looking back over his shoulder, he'll see that there's a smile on Ion's face, something both sharp and strangely kind in its own way. He'll hold eye contact with Souji for a moment-

before shifting his footing and stepping forward in an abrupt movement, half pushing, half shoving Souji into the yawning pit lying before them. ]

—and go in peace. [ he calls, standing gingerly over the edge. He'll watch as it happens, at least, with a mixed expression, something warm yet wan, playing at his visage. ]

With any luck, we'll meet again soon.

[sanguinairy]

[To go in peace, even after everything...

Honestly, this is easier to accept than his looming death from illness. At least this way, he can die knowing he actually contributed to something bigger than himself and helped those he'd come to care for. With that smile still in place, he lurches forward easily when pushed, no resistance at all. No resistance as he's pulled down with the sand toward the pit's center, where it folds in on itself, taking everything below the ground.

And being pulled below, crushed and suffocated in such a slow way, is disconcerting. It reminds him a little too much of the heaviness that weighed his lungs down until that morning and tugs at his survival instincts in a way that he has to work to resist. But even as it gets harder to breathe, and as the sand creeps up past his waist, chest, chin - gets to the point where he can't clear his mouth or nose - he's still remarkably serene. It takes a bit, but soon he's been pulled under entirely, and the shifting sands leave not a trace of a person behind.

This is the path he'd chosen to walk. He'll walk it until the very end.

Okita Souji is dead.]