Event Annex - The Senate Room

[pumpkinhollow]

CRY HAVOC, AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR.

W

elcome, esteemed guests, to the Senate Room.

The rules of the game are simple. You have a word over your head that you cannot see, and the same word written on a piece of paper in an envelope that also contains a key. There is a door out of this room. Each key opens the door for only one person. You can see the words above others' heads, but you cannot say them, nor can you say any direct synonyms that might give it away too easily, nor can you spell the word or its synonyms. You must find other ways to describe it to allow the other person to guess. More abstract. Get creative with it.

If you believe you know the word, speak it aloud and open your envelope to retrieve your key. If you are correct, you can leave without incident. If you are wrong, your organs will immediately fail and you will die.

Here are the words each participant has been assigned. Players can use them to refer to other players' characters to help them guess, and you can use them to check your answers when you guess, but you can also OOCly know your answer provided you don't use it to ICly cheat. Good luck.

Agent Connecticut

Fickle

Agni Azimar

Traitor (there is an additional document contained in this envelope)

Aloy

Obstinate

Ancient Fuelweaver

Ruined

Anzu Menelikov

Deceitful

Artemy Burakh

Tainted

Capochin Bastone

Inadequate

Cassandra de Rolo

Cynical

Dahlia Leeds

Insatiable

Daisy Tonner

Merciless

Elias Coldwood

Discarded

Ethan Winters

Insufficient

Felix Gaeta

Imprudent

Hector Monaque

Covetous

Jonathan Sims

Hubristic

Lev/Lyubov Morgenshtern

Weak

Luo Binghe

Alone

Marik Ishtar

Megalomaniacal

Mr. Ant Tenna

Histrionic

Papyrus

Ineffectual

Sasavachi Chunome

Misanthropic

Shen Qingqiu

Pretentious

Simon

Selfish

Violet Vespertine

Cowardly

✦Return to Event ✦

Comments

[montyhall]

Tenna bides his time. He lingers just nearby, just distant enough to be plausibly minding his own business, and he waits. He waits to see if Dahlia has any luck at guessing her word... But, eventually, he can wait no more.

"H-Hey, there...!!"

Playing it cool, smoothing back his antennae like nothing's wrong (even though he only does this when something is very, very wrong) as he makes his approach, leaning in conspiratorially.

"Do you, uh... D-Do you have a second to talk? Just, one on one?"

[thethirteenthchild]

"Oh--- yes, of course."

Dahlia's been eyeing Tenna's word the whole time. It's very specific, and not very common. She knows the meaning of it, but isn't sure that most people here would even know the definition because it really is a hundred-Brass word, and even then, she hardly knows how to describe it to him. The idea's been making her nervous this whole time.

She takes him aside, behind one of the folding screen partitions. It doesn't really conceal them, given Tenna's height, but it's a modicum of privacy, at least. "Are you okay? This is--- it's a lot. Tense."

[montyhall]

"Oh, h-haha, sure! Never been better, you know!! Aha... Ha..."

Once again, he fails to fight his first impulse — but that's probably fine. Provided he gets to the damn point before much longer, anyway.

"W— Well." He leans in, hands wringing, still trying to be conspiratorial even though they're at least somewhat separated from all the others. "I just...wanted to check in, you know! See if, uh, if you, maybe... If you might, uh, have a good track on...your answer."

Even without eyes, it's impossible to miss the way Tenna glances up to the word floating over Dahlia's head. In truth, he doesn't have the first idea as to how to help her guessing it... But that's fine. It's all going to be fine. Right?

[thethirteenthchild]

"...Frankly, not really," Dahlia admits. "I've picked up on the fact that it's particularly harsh, but not much else. But it's fine, I'm good at things like this, I just. Need to be patient." A tense beat. "Have you had much luck?"

[montyhall]

"Ah, heh, well, not...n-not really." His antennae begin to droop for all of a second before shooting straight back up, as he attempts to rally himself. "B-But, you know! That's just...how games go, isn't it!! You can't expect to win 'em all, right? A-heh... Ha..."

Get to the damn point already, Tenna.

"But... W-Well..." He glances around, as though looking to make really, really sure that nobody is listening in on them. "Look... Somebody has to win. Right? I-I mean, not literally, hah, going by the rules, we could all end up dead in here, r-right—" Get to the point. "Ah... What I'm trying to say is... If any one of us here is going to win..."

As Tenna speaks, he reaches into his waistcoat with a hand that, to his credit, is only just barely beginning to shake.

"It... It's gotta be you. Yeah?" He keeps talking as he pulls the envelope from his lapel and presses it into her hands, not intending to give her a chance to interject. "You're the one who really knows what we're dealing with, here, you're the one who can put a stop to any of this... If any of us can, I know it's you. S-So..."

There's something heavy in this envelope, weightier than a key alone.

"...Take this. Okay? I-It doesn't have to be right now, but... If you use this on me, then— then at least you'll be able to get out." That's how this all works, right? "Right...?"

[thethirteenthchild]

It becomes obvious before the envelope is even open what's inside. Dahlia's held enough of these, being a collector. Maybe it's the weight placement or the way it slides inside the package as it shifts between hands. Dahlia dumps the small, sharp blade into her palm and stares at it darkly.

"...You know I can't do that," Dahlia tells him. "Not to you. If death really is permanent here, then..."

Then she'd never see him again. She'd lose a very, very good friend. Kris would lose a parent. That strange man from the restaurant, a partner. The town, an emblem of fun and joy. And Susie and Ralsei... It would obviously hurt them, too. Susie adores Tenna, and Ralsei doesn't need any more reason to feel like Darkners should be discarded.

No, that can't happen. There's a shift in Dahlia's eyes as she casts her gaze around the room, shifting into a line of thinking that she hasn't needed to employ since she was well and truly under her father's thumb---- There must be someone expendable around here.

She locks in on someone. Not expendable, per se, but there's enough people around here that do the same type of work, and this is someone who would surely understand doing something like this for the kids...

"I think I have another idea. Will you trust me?"

[montyhall]

It's not like he actually wants to die, of course; that much remains ever true. But if it has to be a choice between him or them — if he has the opportunity to make that choice, then... Then...

But he doesn't want to die.

It feels cowardly, this spark of hope that flickers to life upon hearing Dahlia's reply. Nevertheless, he can't seem to stop himself from grasping it tightly in hand.

"I... I trust you." Tenna nods, as though he's convincing himself as much as he's convincing her. "I'll always trust you. Of course I will."

And that much will remain ever true regardless of whatever it is she's about to suggest — right?

[thethirteenthchild]

There is a slot in the right hip of Dahlia's nightgown that she has had sewn in to every nightgown she's ever owned since she was thirteen. She's stopped using it for the past year or so, feeling no need, but today... she's glad she has it. She slips the knife into it, and takes one of Tenna's hands in both of hers.

"I'm going to figure this out for us. The kids need both of us in one piece, and I'm going to make sure that happens. I promise."

[montyhall]

Tenna takes a breath — not one he needs, of course, but the gesture is grounding, even if only by the slightest amount — and gives her hands a gentle squeeze in turn.

"Okay... A-Alright! Alright." Another simulacrum of breath. "If... If you need me to do anything, then..."

Not that he knows what that might even be, at this point. But he has to do something more than this, doesn't he?

[thethirteenthchild]

"I'll call." One last squeeze for the road, and then she's off.

It takes about a half hour. She doesn't want to come off like she had this in mind from the jump. She meanders and mingles until she lands as organically as possible in the seat next to a quiet man who she is only somewhat acquainted with.

Could she have picked a weaker target, like the small person or the blonde man with an injured wrist who only recently arrived? Sure. Could she have picked someone less popular, like the teenager she knows Kris dislikes? Of course. But she's also heard rumors floating around that some people suspect there might not actually be permanent death, and---- well, it might not be true, but if it is, she has to hope she picked someone who'd understand.

Then, after all that build-up, what she finally does takes all of a few seconds. Isn't that strange? How horrifyingly quick and easy it is to end a whole life? Like cutting down a tree that spent decades growing--- all of that becoming, gone in an instant.

Once she manages to dodge the others, she shoves the key into Tenna's hands. "Go now. While no one is looking at you. Go find Kris and the others, now."

[montyhall]

Really, he has no business at all being surprised about it when it finally happens. What did he think was going to happen? What else did he really think was going to happen?

But maybe it's for the best, in spite of everything else, that he is surprised — that he can pass himself off all the more easily as a shocked bystander. At least until realization fully dawns upon him, somehow not fully sinking in until Dahlia is returned and pressing the key into his hands—

"You—"

What he wants to say is something brave, something like it should have been me. It should be you. But it's too late for that, isn't it? And it's hardly the truth, besides.

Tenna's mouth sets into a grim line before his screen flickers with static, before it goes entirely dim. More than anything else, he can't waste this chance she's given him.

"Be careful— Okay?"

He turns, before doubt has a chance to creep back in, and as quickly, as quietly as he can — if not especially stealthily; the act of not drawing attention to himself simply isn't in his nature — he's fitting the key into the door, and he's gone.

Wrap with Tenna, OTA for continuation

[thethirteenthchild]

"I love you very much, my friend," Dahlia tells him just before he leaves. "I'll be behind you before too long. Good luck."

She has a good guess as to her word... if she doesn't get eaten alive by the abrupt boom in detectives first.

The door closes behind Tenna. It was for them. That's what matters.

No hiding. No excuses. No father to pass the buck to, nor dreary mansion to shield her. She turns to face her sin, to answer judgement.

[ Dahlia is OTA from here. ]

[not_the_last]

And as Tenna slips away -- in time to see Tenna slip away -- Cassandra approaches. No one else has turned away from the body on the floor yet; there's still time, if only a little.

Her face is set as she steps up to Dahlia, pale and verging on grim.

"We will have a discussion about this later," she says, flat and very quiet. "For right now, do you need me to back you up?"

[thethirteenthchild]

"No," Dahlia says. "I did that so that he could go find the kids. You saw his word, he was never going to get that. Let him find the children, and I'll be the monster."

After all, she already was.

Her frown deepens, and she doesn't make eye contact. "...Whatever happens is fine."

[not_the_last]

"If this turns into a free-for-all, none of us may get out alive. I'm not letting that happen."

She's clearly angry, but just as clearly putting that aside with almost visible force.

"Get your back to a wall, at least. I don't want to invite any sudden leaps of bravado."

[thethirteenthchild]

With a huff that is almost petulant, Dahlia takes a step back and presses her shoulders to the wall beside the door. "They can do whatever they want with me."

There's something dark to her demeanor now. Something cold. A version of her that hasn't been seen in nearly two years now, back before she met Daisy and Radar. The version of herself she was left with after Ianto. The version of herself she was before offworlders started coming at all. Aster's daughter, cornered wolf, hollow-eyed shark.

If Cassandra hates her now, fine. If the others hate her, fine. If they execute her, fine. Someone had to go to the children. She wasn't going to leave Tenna in here to deal with the consequences of giving her the damn knife, nor was she going to stab him.

[hadnoright]

Daisy's with her the second she's alone again for even a second, something innately protective in her posture despite her frankly ridiculous night clothes or the uncertainty in the whisper-hiss, "Blodyn what the hell was that?"

[thethirteenthchild]

"I let Tenna go," Dahlia says quickly. "He's sturdy and not interesting enough to Eligos to get sidetracked by more schemes, and he was never going to guess his word. I've almost got mine figured out, and yours is----" Dahlia purses her lips. "---somewhat expected. I'm not worried about us."

[hadnoright]

Daisy's gaze instinctively flicks up over her own head where she, of course, still can't see anything. You'd think it'd be reassuring to know it should be guessable, and yet.

She drags her tongue over her teeth. Thoughtful. "...and if he gets out. He's hopefully safe. And can find others. Yeah?" A beat. "...I'd be more worried about who else has one of those knives. Was that his, first?"

[thethirteenthchild]

A tight nod. "He told me to stab him. I... couldn't." Dahlia chews her lip. "The man I killed had one as well. He--- passed it to me. On the way out."

[hadnoright]

"Jesus christ."

She rubs her face. Lets an incisor catch her tongue. "...I know of one other. He said he shouldn't use it. I agreed."

She's not going to name Jon aloud, just in case, but Dahlia might well be able to figure it out on her own. Who else would show Daisy and not expect it turned back on them?

[thethirteenthchild]

"Heavens, no. Something like this could happen."

[hadnoright]

Daisy muffles a snort of laughter in her hand that she doesn't want others overhearing, then clears her throat and says: "He's got worst judgement than you. And he's worse with knives. Not sure he'd pull it off without getting it turned on him."

[mortifer]

One person leaves -- the murderer stays. She does not attempt to follow the other out, nor does she wield her knife to defend herself when she is approached. It's not the actions of a calculated killer acting to ensure their own survival, despite the brutal neatness of the killing blow.

Perhaps it's the fact that there are many bodies, living and perhaps soon-to-be-dead, packed into this room. Perhaps an arrangement was made in secret. Perhaps it's for another reason entirely. Sasavachi does not know.

This is why he despises living among people.

It is only because Artemy had helped him that Sasavachi approaches the murderer. He does not leave a debt unrepaid, even if he'd only spoken to the man once. He pulls up a chair. Hops onto it, so he may better study the woman's face.

"You're quiet."

A statement. Matter-of-fact.

[thethirteenthchild]

The murderer stands straight-backed and stone-faced. The dignified posture of a noblewoman, paired with the hungry, dark eyes of a shark. She arches a brow at Sasavachi. "Should I not be?" she asks. "Would you like me to sing you a song or something?"