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ph_logs2026-03-15 12:14 pm
Event Annex - The Senate Room
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
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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?
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"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."
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"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?
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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."
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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
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. ]
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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?"
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After all, she already was.
Her frown deepens, and she doesn't make eye contact. "...Whatever happens is fine."
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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."
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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.
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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?"
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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?"
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"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?
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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."
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(not here)
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"Who else? If there's some bullshit going on. Somehow he gets pulled in. Fundamental nature of the bloody universe."
Caring for the bastard is a battle in itself. He's like the central orbit point of a galaxy of dangerous nonsense. And he's— did he just wave at them? Oh my god.
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(Having knowledge, it seems, says nothing of how to use it.)
"As long as he keeps it to himself, it'll be fine. But if his word has any merit, we'll have to see how that actually goes." She sighs. "I don't--- I don't want to avoid consequences for what I've done. It was wrong. But I had to. I'll answer for it as best as I can without throwing myself on the sword. Just back me up if things get too bad."
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"I believe him." And if he proves her an idiot for it, she'll smack him up the head later, so long as they both survive. "He— told me to take it, if someone gets to him first. But I'm not letting that happen if I can help it. Just like I'm not letting anything happen to you."
She'll back her up. Like she always has. Horrible as it is that she had to kill a man, Daisy doesn't care. Her people come first.
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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.
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