trustfell | Accountability.

Perhaps there's an expectation of a grand entrance here – something over-the-top and loud and flashy, something that speaks to either ego or a desire for a certain kind of presentation. But the fact of the matter is that nothing like that comes. There's just a light tapping in the direction of the stairs that lead back up to the dorms, like something's entering the room, something small and light and as it comes closer, there's an enthusiastic little jingling noise that comes with it.

And then there is catfriend, making its way down the last of the steps and coming to a stop near the door, where it sits casually and calmly until something, inexplicably, seems to shift.

It's difficult to say what it is, but it's apparent that something in the room has bent in a way that it shouldn't – it's the sort of jolt that comes with a sudden earthquake, a brief shock down the spine and then there's someone here that quite simply wasn't before.

And whatever those in the room were expecting out of Jericho, it...likely isn't the person who's standing in front of them, near the thirty-sixth podium where Rachel has moved easily out of the way to allow the woman who's appeared from seemingly out of nowhere to take her place.

Her hair is long and brown, similar to Alena's, done up in a thick plait that she's got pulled over one shoulder; she isn't particularly attractive, and not pretty in the way that Alena and Hilda were. She's just kind of plain, with eyes that are a little too large and wide-set for her head, and though she's fairly tall and well-built for a woman it's not in the same way that Sigrun was – its softer, in a way that doesn't suit the hardness in her expression. She's dressed simply, in the way that the clothes in the closet upstairs were simple – a dress that's well-fitted but plain, with brown knee-high boots under it.

She glances over at the cat, which makes its way over and jumps up onto the podium in front of her, where it proceeds to curl up and set its head down as though asleep – though it's very clearly watching the rest of the room.

The woman sets her hand atop the cat's back lightly, smiling a bit to herself before looking back up at the group; the smile doesn't leave her, though it seems more than a bit forced – but when she speaks, while her voice sounds different (it's higher, lighter in pitch) it's incredibly obvious that the cadence and delivery are exactly the same as what you've been hearing over the public-address system for the past ten weeks.

"Hey, guys – well, I guess you got what you wanted. And congratulations, it's going to be a complete waste of time! Let's not pretend that we're here to make friends or play nice with each other; Rule Five's still in place, but damn if I don't expect to hear you guys whine at me for the next couple of hours until we decide that this is pointless, face-to-face meetings always kind of suck, and the universe is a cold, unfeeling place.

But you know what, while we're all here and staring at each other – my name is Lisbeth Larimore. Though I guess for the past two and a half months, you've been calling me Jericho.

Let's see what you guys have to say, and how things look coming out the other side."

That odd, overly-bright smile still hasn't left her face.

"And as always, do your best!"

Your hostess for the evening, everybody. Let's begin.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Nah, let's not do that later.]

Why do you think he is not responsible?

Holy fuck, I'm impressed at how much you don't listen sometimes! I said we're going to handle the basic things first, the cataclysm later. Don't worry, you can yell at me about my shitty taste in boyfriends later.

It's not 'not listening' if I hear you and decide if I want to go ahead with my questioning anyway. You're avoiding talking about him on purpose.

...What you just described is literally the definition of "not listening."

I said I would talk about him later, that isn't avoiding anything.

[Since he got yelled at the last time he pushed anyone on a specific point, he's not going to do it again.]

Expect me to ask again later, then. Because you're not getting out of answering that question.

Luca. You said you trust me, so let it drop for now.

[ Like seriously, we're going to agitate the woman who if not kill us could probably make his mouth sew shut with a bullshit power if she can delete the Scopes. ]

[He already is, and he really wants to say something to Elda now too, but he's holding his tongue for now.]

[ I mean he's free to say it. She knows she's not performing well here and her nails digging into her podium, probably breaking it a little, does betray that. ]

[...well okay. But he does stop and breathe before saying it, because Elda doesn't deserve to be snapped at.]

We're going to have to push her on a point eventually. If you want to be the one to do it then I am fine with that, but someone has to push.

Do you really think this is the time to push? We're the ones cornered here, still.

[ At best, they have a stalemate on the loose idea that "her friend" won't kill them all. ]

If you want to push later, then I will accept that. But this point here is important to all of this.

[His gave flicks back over to Rachel again. Lisbeth might not be the person they need to convince here.]

No, you'd be better for it. But go for it once we have some basis in logic. [ She... pauses, but then speaks slowly to Luca, quietly: ] I have no doubt that emotions will win the day for us, they have every single time. But Kimblee couldn't be beaten until we worked out the trick. Celia couldn't be revealed until we proved she wasn't Fern. Kyrie couldn't be talked down until it was clear she didn't have other options. Let's see if we can't get [ A nod to Lisbeth ] on the other foot a little with the facts.

[Ah, that's right. They didn't give up until they were thoroughly beaten, didn't they?

Luca nods to Elda, but says nothing else for the time being.]

Accountability.

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