The Coordinators (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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trustfell2017-10-07 12:07 pm
trustbound) wrote in trustfell2017-10-07 12:07 pm
Take Responsibility.
| And once everyone has done what they need to do and gathered at that bottom of that stairwell in the dormitory, the door before them once again seems to unlatch and swing outward, lightly and of its own volition. It's the fourth time in the span of about a month; perhaps there's some strange, dark sense of familiarity in it. Perhaps, too, that stairwell leading further down is beginning to feel familiar, dark and unwelcoming though it is; the courtroom is still illuminated at the bottom of it, sending a slight amount of light up the stairs and guiding everyone down to that stark room made of concrete and steel. The podium circle stands still and silent in the center, waiting for everyone to take their place around the darkened pit below; once again, there's been a change in the circle itself in the form of three more podiums joining the ranks of the deceased. Fern, Tabby, and Sigrun all have their places in the circle marked with black cloth and a photograph in greyscale, keeping watch over all of you in a manner both unseeing and vaguely judgmental. As always, the thirty-sixth podium stands blank and unoccupied among you. Once everyone has found their place in the circle, Jericho can be heard over the public-address system; he seems to have collected himself at some point during the investigation, it shows in his voice, as little as anyone really wants it to. "For better or worse, Boundless is no longer among you. I'm sure you guys all know what that means by now, what you're here to do. And before you ask, because I know it's going to come up eventually and now's as good a time as any - yeah, we'd have you down here if someone tries to be a big damn hero for the group, because someone's still dead because somebody fucked up. It just means the dead person and the guilty person are the same person. So you know what, the game's the same, no matter what happened here - innocent against the guilty, fourth time, let's go! And as always, do your best!" Twenty-six Participants remain. However many leave this place is up to you. |
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I examined Sigrun's body. [Just to start that off.] Before continuing with that, however, I'd like to hear what else was found first. How did the rest of your investigations fare?
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It seems to me Eide-san may have done it herself.
[A suicide, in other words]
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I opted to check out the big gal's room. For one, I found this thing in there.
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Handwriting check
[Estelle is going to go around to each podium check people’s handwritings. She’s going to note how they hold the pencil and everything and if they’re hesitating, etc. Don’t worry, Estelle has her check on top of the paper in her hand writing as it reads:]
And we will live happily ever after – Estellise Sidos Heurassein.
[It’s clearly there as an example and while the handwriting looks nice and educated it does not match their note they have in evidence.]
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Turn the chessboard around -- Kyrie Ushiromiya
[It doesn't match the note]
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[his handwriting is nice and educated, but it doesn't match the note.]
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[Her handwriting is very neat, and very unhesitating--she's left-handed and holding it like she was taught to, but her writing also does not match. It's also the same kind of handwriting she used for the first afterparty.]
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There are no meaningless things. - Kirei Kotomine
[It does not match.]
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[He writes in his neat handwriting, right-handed. It doesn't match.]
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Ask someone else.
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Well I dunno if this is going to work but here. - Yuri Lowell
It looks pretty plain and simple. It doesn't match the note. ]
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This official document certifies that the nation of Amestris, prefecture of the Generalissimo, appoints the name Red Lotus to Solf J Kimblee, in the name of Fuhrer King Bradley.
[...And it's really clinical, um. But you know what, it's something. It also doesn't match the note - educated and generally clean, certainly, but not a match for what's there.
He's also apparently right-handed, since Kyrie specified and that's probably a decent detail to know?]
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[Apparently Rideaux's thoughts on this line up with the others saying any potential culprit would try to mask their handwriting, especially if there's no evidence of existing handwriting to call them out on it. Also, he has pointedly left out the rest of his name in his signature.
As for the handwriting itself, it's...what you would expect from a doctor, honestly. It's not indecipherable, but it's a bit hasty and chicken scratch-y. That said, it doesn't match the note.]
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Everything is cyclical. It begins the same way, and it ends the same way. - Luca Valentino
[It is certainly formal enough, just as formal as Luca usually is, but the handwriting does not match. He also wrote with his right hand, if it matters.]
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Mini-catherd?
[Two ideas come strongly to mind, but yes, why don't we get back to discussing things and leave poor Frank alone.]
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clothing check
So, given that the killer likely had little chance to clean up after themselves, I'm thinking if blood from that blade dripped onto their clothing, they wouldn't have the time to do anything about it.
I'm going to just come around and do a quick clothing check.
[ For the record, even though Yuri's clothing is mostly dark, there are no blood or stains of any kind on them. ]
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Re: clothing check
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Catherd Comment
Okay, listen up! I'm not the smartest person here, so I'm just going to break down what we know by room here. That seems easiest to me.
First and foremost, we've got the bar, where Sigrun's body was found. Mage-girl was the one who described our body for us, but the gist of it was that there was a single clean cut which ran up her left arm. The cut was from the forearm to the wrist and didn't have any hesitation marks. She also had her dagger in hand.
The whole thing looks like a suicide, up to and including a suicide note which I read aloud earlier but you can check it again if you want. Estellise's been running handwriting for a while, but that hasn't seemed to get us anywhere. The other weird thing is that Kyrie found whiskey and a glass with something dissolved at the bottom of the glass. So we've sort of been assuming poisoning too.
[ Exhale. ] Phew, okay. So that brings us to the infirmary. Luca reports there that some pills were moved around and some sleeping pills were missing. [ Specifically barbiturates, but Elda doesn't remember the word ] Which'd probably be the poison?
... Anyway, then we've got Sigrun's room. The thing was locked up, I had to get the key from Rin earlier to get it open. Inside there, the woman's etched some runic things in the walls around the door which Rin seems to think are some Nordic protection spells. There was also a crudely carved out VERN written out above the door... whatever that means. Only thing we've gotten from that is the writing for it doesn't match with the suicide note. Also, we've got a crossbow in there [ Which she pats, it's still on the podium ] Which Sigrun carved some custom sigils things into which kinda seem like the ones on her dagger.
[ A dramatic shrug ] Then finally, we've got the shooting range where Estellise noted a crossbow missing... and a target pummeled with a lot of well aimed bolts.
Plus, of course, there's the thing hanging all over all of this: the murder happened ten minutes after Tabitha was killed because of the time limit. Or at least, that's when Sigrun died.
... That all seem about right? This is all so tiring.
[ SIGH. ]
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[...He has nothing of value to contribute here, just. A general "good job."]
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This has gone on long enough. All of you are haranguing me for various reasons and making me admit to things that are really none of your business – and furthermore, none of which have to do with the death of Captain Eide. That's all a little vulgar, wouldn't you agree? To say nothing of highly disrespectful toward the dead - both of us, for that matter.
You've all admitted multiple times that you don't have any evidence to connect me to the murder. Of course, there's also the matter of how I'm already dead, and I suppose I can see where that would make you believe I had a reason to do all of this – but it's as I told Councilman Tarrlok. I regret nothing about the way I lived, and I regret nothing about the fact that I'm dead now. My whole life has been spent on one battlefield or another; one can't take death as a mistress and expect her to never claim you in the end. As far as I'm concerned, my death was honorable. I put my soul on the line and paid the ultimate price, and that's the way things have to be.
I don't think like the rest of you, and I'll thank you to stop assuming that I do. Perhaps this motive may have tempted someone else in my position, but things work a little differently for me, I'm afraid.
So I'll ask you to kindly step back from this farce of an interrogation, and get on to what really matters – either prove to me how and why I killed Sigrun Eide, or get back to finding the actual culprit so all of us can live another day – because while I have no problem with my death back in Amestris, I do quite enjoy being alive here, for as long as I have that option.
[LET'S MAKE IT BEAUTIFUL!]
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[Oh god why. Why this.]
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Normally that sound would be concerning, given the sort; fortunately, his alchemy isn't working here.]
That was all lovely, you know - even if you really are terribly convoluted in how you think about things. I'm not nearly as sophisticated as you're all making me out to be, though I suppose that's flattering, in its own way.
I can tell you where you're wrong, if you'd like. Answer questions if you have any. If you have nothing further to say, then that's likewise fine. I understand that you're angry, and you'll likely want to cause me some sort of harm now that this is out there. But as I've said before, you receive what you earn, and I believe I've seen enough.
I suppose as Councilman Tarrlok has been saying, "Congratulations, you solved my insanity puzzle." I'm proud of you – I've no doubt that you'll do well going forward from here. All I ask is that you do continue to go forward. Your work isn't done here, nor will it be for a while.
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[Time to pull out the guts of this mystery]
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SELECTION.
Hopefully you guys are all satisfied with what you've heard here, because God knows you've heard a lot. It's like I've been saying from the beginning, it's the innocent against the guilty - maybe now more than ever, yeah?
Throw your votes in for who you think was responsible for Boundless' death, and we'll see what happens coming out the other side.
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What a pain in the ass.
[ God, what a trial. He's just about done, along with everyone else. ]
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ACCOUNTABILITY.
The amount of that former color is impossible to ignore now; a quarter of the lights are shining red, three more joining the six from before. The other thing that's impossible to ignore is the fact that as the lights come on and the room brightens a bit, it's immediately evident that Kimblee is no longer among you – he's disappeared entirely from the circle with no sound, no outward indication that anything has happened despite the fact that something clearly has.
As with the previous times before, Alena is waiting in the pit, down below Podium Five; she's drenched in red light where it's shining off the white top of her uniform. As always, she's keeping her eyes across the circle, though she looks rather dead behind them – there's no emotion there, nothing to indicate that she's thinking or feeling anything at all about this compared to the general upset that she was displaying when Tabby died. This is just cold, and blank, and jarringly empty.
And when the door beneath Podium 26 slides open, she tips her head back to address Jericho, in that quiet manner that she always has before an execution; when Kimblee makes his way out into the pit it's with no hesitation whatsoever. He's keeping his head held high, and he doesn’t hesitate; he simply makes his way to the center, and he seeks Alena out with his gaze, and he tips his head to the side a bit when he notices her, as though waiting to see what she's going to do.
She reaches out, stretching her right hand to her side again as though searching for something in open air; after a moment a sword flickers into being, a large silver broadsword, glittering and reflecting crimson off the lights.
Kimblee shifts a little at that, folding his arms low across his body, the gesture strangely casual despite the situation; he seems to ask her something, though it's difficult to say what – he's never been a terribly loud person, all things considered, so perhaps that's unsurprising.
Alena is quiet, but she seems to be listening despite her dead-eyed state; after a moment she nods, and as she readies the sword in both hands Kimblee kneels down on the ground, shifting his ponytail over one shoulder so it's out of the way before bowing his head, exposing the back of his neck easily to her.
She raises the blade. Begins to bring it down.
And immediately cries out as Kimblee quickly reaches up and around to grab her wrist on the way down, using the purchase he's got on her to slip up and around, out from under the blade, wrenching her arm back as he does so.
She loses her grip on the sword, sending it clattering to the ground as he kicks the back of her leg, forcing her down onto one knee on the ground as it buckles hard; he keeps her arm twisted hard behind her, using it as leverage to force her head downwards, and for a moment he just holds her there – he may have been out of commission for several years but he still remembers how to fight, he's been a soldier for years, and like hell if he isn't going down putting up a decent fight.
Alena squirms a bit under his grip, reaching out with her free hand and finding the handle of that sword; she can't get up easily but she does have ways to make him move, and for a moment a brief burst of blue fire swells up near her as some unseen force seems to shove him off for her, sending him staggering back, though he doesn't fall.
And once he's off, she's quick to stand up, sending more of those blue flames skittering across the blade and lighting the sword on fire as she lunges at him.]
Good night, Observant.
[Jericho's voice can be heard a split second before Alena makes contact with Kimblee, grabbing him by the lapels of that white suit with her free hand and sweeping his legs out from under him, dropping him hard; she doesn't hesitate before raising the sword, taking it up in both hands again before she brings it down hard, striking him in one of the eyes before raising it and bringing it down again. And again. And again.
Fun fact: It takes 2300 newtons of force to break a human skull.
(That wasn't very fun, but it was factual.)
And after a while of just...stabbing him for a while, Alena seems to just...suddenly deflate; she lets the sword fall to the ground again at her side, and the flames disperse, and then she just kind of...drops, herself, kneeling next to his body and trying very, very hard to not look at what she just did to his head.
Jericho can be heard after she's done with it; he sounds elated.]
Good job, everyone – you did an absolutely fucking great job today! I'm really proud of you, you have no idea...
For now, though, you guys go upstairs and rest up; there's nothing more for you guys to do today. Maybe soon, but not now.
One down. Three more like him to go.
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[...he thinks he's going to make Alena something nice for that.]
Well, I don't know about you all, but I'm feeling like doing something that has nothing at all to do with being pointlessly cryptic and ominous.
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