airlockedmods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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theairlock2017-11-18 12:07 pm
airlockedmods) wrote in theairlock2017-11-18 12:07 pm
fourth trial
[With the announcement and the evidence, the Champions are free to decide amongst themselves what order the groups leave in. Once that's done the process of teleporting is automatic and happens in the blink of an eye. Once second they're in the center of the cafeteria before a soft blue light surrounds them and then they're standing in the middle of a circle of podiums.
The room itself it the same shiny, chrome-covered atrocity as most of the rest of the ship save for the sections of floor that aren't the teleporter: those are thick clear glass that show nothing but empty space and stars beneath the Champions' feet. As for the podiums they're the same sort of garish chrome with a digital screen facing toward the center of the circle. More portraits and names in blaring red have been added this week. Karamatsu Matsuno, the Champion of Painful Secondhand Embarrassment That's So Cringe Inducing, Narcissistic, And Eye Blindingly Glittery It Makes You Wish He'd Go Away, Korra, the Champion Avatar, Yuri Plisetsky, the Champion Figure Skater and Max Olguin, the Champion Portrait Artist.
The Overseers are waiting when they all arrive, standing on a floating platform just high enough to be out of reach and back far enough toward a far wall to have a full view of the courtroom. Both are dressed well, Rox in a pressed grey dress jacket and skirt and Blaze in a black suit with the sleeves rolled up to expose his numerous tattoos. He's also sporting a black eye patch with a flaming snowflake embroidered on it over his left eye. Rox is smiling like that cat who ate the canary while Blaze is standing a little farther away than normal and looking uncomfortable.]
Welcome back, Champions! There are ten of you here but, if things go correctly, only nine of you will leave. I don't think I have to explain at this point what will happen if you choose wrong.
As usual there's no time limit but be sure to keep things interesting. [She folds her arms across her chest, looking down on the Champions with a grin.] Let the trial begin.
The room itself it the same shiny, chrome-covered atrocity as most of the rest of the ship save for the sections of floor that aren't the teleporter: those are thick clear glass that show nothing but empty space and stars beneath the Champions' feet. As for the podiums they're the same sort of garish chrome with a digital screen facing toward the center of the circle. More portraits and names in blaring red have been added this week. Karamatsu Matsuno, the Champion of Painful Secondhand Embarrassment That's So Cringe Inducing, Narcissistic, And Eye Blindingly Glittery It Makes You Wish He'd Go Away, Korra, the Champion Avatar, Yuri Plisetsky, the Champion Figure Skater and Max Olguin, the Champion Portrait Artist.
The Overseers are waiting when they all arrive, standing on a floating platform just high enough to be out of reach and back far enough toward a far wall to have a full view of the courtroom. Both are dressed well, Rox in a pressed grey dress jacket and skirt and Blaze in a black suit with the sleeves rolled up to expose his numerous tattoos. He's also sporting a black eye patch with a flaming snowflake embroidered on it over his left eye. Rox is smiling like that cat who ate the canary while Blaze is standing a little farther away than normal and looking uncomfortable.]
Welcome back, Champions! There are ten of you here but, if things go correctly, only nine of you will leave. I don't think I have to explain at this point what will happen if you choose wrong.
As usual there's no time limit but be sure to keep things interesting. [She folds her arms across her chest, looking down on the Champions with a grin.] Let the trial begin.
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[But- nope. Can't look. After everything else, this is the one thing she can't watch, can't stop, has to cover her face for.]
cw: gore, suicide
[Thomas crouches behind his podium to make this as difficult to watch as possible. he'd gone to see the rest of Max after he and Penny took care of the pieces; he at least deserved that much before his body went before the Overseers sent it somewhere. he was alone for a second, but just long enough to find a scalpel.
he'd really made this choice Sunday, if he thinks about it. he woke up and saw how his life was about to end - buying a few more hours of time for George, long enough that he could do to one more woman what he'd already done so many times (and he knows, when he thinks about it, that it has to be Carol, Carol's the only one who might give in to him) - and all he could think was "not like this".
"like this" still isn't what he'd have chosen on Sunday, but it's that or force seven other people to make the decision for him, and- no. that isn't right. so instead, it's this. He unwraps the scalpel, and it's shining and bone-sharp, so unfamiliar in his hand. And then he takes one heaving breath-]
Thanks. For letting me do this instead.
[And his hand grasps it as he makes, fist to throat and neck to blade, and he cries out as the scalpel drives in and finds an artery. he has just enough presence of mind to drag it further, and even though it hurts and he can see his own blood spraying the wall, he still pulls it out-
it doesn't take as long as he expected.
Thomas MacLaine is dead.]
no subject
For someone like Thomas, this was the bravest thing he could do, honestly]
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[You want some robosis hugs?]
[Too bad, Penny time.]
[WAH]
no subject