Mugsi Tocatta and Kate Durango (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hijackers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
foolishmortals2017-12-09 11:59 am
hijackers) wrote in foolishmortals2017-12-09 11:59 am
MOCK TRIAL
"Alright, mooks, everybody make youse way down to the trial room, pronto!"
[There's certainly no trial room on the map. No trial soundstage, no trial room, where oh where could they be talking about. You might spend a long time looking for it, or only be thinking about it for a single second before it comes over you.
Whenever you close your ears, or even blink, you find yourself there.
The room is a cartoony laboratory, filled to the brims with scientific equipment and beakers beyond wondrous, almost impossible to imagine being utilized in any sort of actual scientific context. A large monitor is mounted on the ceiling, playing a single clip on repeat along with the words "IMAGINEER THINK TANK". There is a large stage underneath that television, which your two hosts take their places at quite readily.
A circle of metal podiums is set up on the ground floor, 26 in total. Each is marked with a name and a photograph of the individual who's supposed to take their place there, as well as a keyboard for inputting...something. The 26th podium is marked with a grayscale photograph of Gwenpool.
Your fellow participants appear in the room one-by-one, seeming to "digitize" out of nowhere. Once everyone has appeared in the room and taken their place, the air around them seems to go deathly still.
Mugsi holds a cigar between her lips, lighting it from a stick of dynamite lit by Kate. With Mugsi taking a deep inhale, Kate speaks, the dynamite somehow fizzling out.]
Each of you has a place you oughta be sitting, and your job is to solve the mystery that's been put before ya. Once you think you know who did it, input their name on the keyboard in front of you. Majority rules, participation is mandatory, and if ya vote wrong you're not gonna see the light of day ever again!
So, get on with it!
[There's certainly no trial room on the map. No trial soundstage, no trial room, where oh where could they be talking about. You might spend a long time looking for it, or only be thinking about it for a single second before it comes over you.
Whenever you close your ears, or even blink, you find yourself there.
The room is a cartoony laboratory, filled to the brims with scientific equipment and beakers beyond wondrous, almost impossible to imagine being utilized in any sort of actual scientific context. A large monitor is mounted on the ceiling, playing a single clip on repeat along with the words "IMAGINEER THINK TANK". There is a large stage underneath that television, which your two hosts take their places at quite readily.
A circle of metal podiums is set up on the ground floor, 26 in total. Each is marked with a name and a photograph of the individual who's supposed to take their place there, as well as a keyboard for inputting...something. The 26th podium is marked with a grayscale photograph of Gwenpool.
Your fellow participants appear in the room one-by-one, seeming to "digitize" out of nowhere. Once everyone has appeared in the room and taken their place, the air around them seems to go deathly still.
Mugsi holds a cigar between her lips, lighting it from a stick of dynamite lit by Kate. With Mugsi taking a deep inhale, Kate speaks, the dynamite somehow fizzling out.]
Each of you has a place you oughta be sitting, and your job is to solve the mystery that's been put before ya. Once you think you know who did it, input their name on the keyboard in front of you. Majority rules, participation is mandatory, and if ya vote wrong you're not gonna see the light of day ever again!
So, get on with it!
no subject
That whole teleportation thing wasn't startling in the slightest, no sir!
He scrambles over to his designated place, trumpet clutched in hand. After glancing over the rest of those here, it suddenly occurs to him that
ChrisGwen's murderer is here in the room with everyone else.He doesn't need any of this right now. Nervously, he clears his throat and begins to speak.]
W-Well, um, I know we haven't really known each other for very long, and, um, we only knew G-Gwen for...a few days. But I think we should take the time to...to sort of remember her. She...she seemed like a real nice lady, that's for sure. I only wish we could've gotten to know her more.
[He pauses, silently fiddling with the valves on his trumpet. He's not sure whether he should play or not to relieve the tension in the room.]
So, ah, um, anyone got any leads on anythin'? I found a few things in the restaurant....
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Between everyone's arrivals and the way the ladies casually treat a stick of dynamite like a conventional lighter, he's reevaluating his belief on these two being low-level thugs.
.....
He clambers up his podium. ]
What was in the restaurant?
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As for evidence, he lays the bloody towel of his podium, really not wanting to touch it.]
Um, I found a towel in the bathroom. It was...bloody. I think they might've cleaned themselves up, or something.
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Really, the atmosphere of gloom is way more uncomfortable than any other part of this. The need to lighten the mood itches his skin...or whatever constitutes as it.
There are no jokes here though. His mind is blank. He nervously laughs.]
Anyone wanna confess?
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Hey Y'all, Thoughts?
The only way to win is to commit a murder and not be caught.
All of us must vote on who is to be executed for said murder. Anyone who votes incorrectly or abstains is also executed.
If the majority of us correctly name the murderer, the murderer is executed--and, most importantly: the game starts over.
There are no winning conditions.
If anyone has arguments for how this exercise is not simply wasting our time, I'd love to hear them.
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[He imitates firing a gun with his fingers.]
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Gwen was found murdered. She died with a look of pure terror on her face and appeared to be crawling away from the Western soundstage. Taking into account the blood trail, it appears reasonable to assume that she was attacked in the restaurant before making an escape to the science fiction room. I believe it can be assumed the killer "finished the job," so the speak, in there.
Additional items have been uncovered as well. In the restaurant, an unpoisoned, prepared dinner was discovered as well. Perhaps the two met there before conversations broke down at an alarming level. Prop guns in the western room imply Gwen or her assailant may have attempted to halt the other. The killer also hid the knife in the piano, covering their tracks as best they were able.
Finally, an item of interest I should have mentioned earlier. [She pulls out a piece of red fabric.] I found this incredibly close to the corpse of the deceased. This proximity indicates importance.
Does that cover most of the information we have acquired?
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...D'ya think she pulled that bit of cloth from her attacker? 'Cos we could inspect people's clothes, maybe.
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Mods?
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RED CHECK
[ Annabeth's going to be comparing the red fabric with people's clothes. ...Additionally seeing if the clothes they've been wearing aren't the ones they currently are, but there's no real place for them to get new ones so that's a bit of a moot point. ]
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I for one am completely dissatisfied with this whole experience. And you others? [ He looks around the room pointedly. ] Are any of you glad to have come here?
I demand to speak with the owner of this establishment! [ Tap tap tapping one foot. Hurry it up! ]
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- This is not real. It is some form of "virtual reality". An illusion. These might not be our real bodies.
- In order to leave, the culprit must be found.
- Our hosts cannot have planted, misled or framed anyone for the murder.
- We need a list of people who are present and their locations following the murder.
- We will also need a time when this . . . Gwen person was spoken to or seen last and where.
Is there anything else we need to add?
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As presentable as he could make it look, that is.]
I did not mean to hurt the poor lass... I truly.. I--
[Inhale. Exhale. He's braved through tougher predicaments, and boy howdy is he not getting out of this one. No matter how hard he tried convincing himself he could.]
I missed home. I missed me nephew.. I missed me money bin. I cannot and could not stand a single day- let alone an undetermined amount of time without them!
They need me!
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VOTING TIME
And here I thought you would be running into a brick wall for the next few hours.
[Mugsi and Kate look like they're about to say something, but Bill interrupts them.]
In case you forgot how this all works, now it's time to vote for who you think the culprit is, in case he isn't obvious by now.
[Looks over at Scrooge.]
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I'd like to hear what your helpers were going to say, if you don't mind.
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ROAST DUCK HERE IT COMES
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EXECUTION Duck Death, woo-oo 1/2
That’s it, I’m just going to finish this and call it a day.
[Mugsi and Kate call out to him, but it’s too late as Bill flips the lever, causing a trap door to open up from under Scrooge and he disappears from sight.
After a moment, a glass box emerges from the floor, with Scrooge McDuck inside of it, chained to the bottom with a golden shackle around his ankle. He tries in vain to wrench his leg out of the trap for about a minute before something hits his head:
A gold coin.
Suddenly coins start raining into the container, It starts as a light trickle, but it soon starts showering, many coins painfully hitting his head. It’s disorienting enough until it hits Scrooge that he could very well drown in this scenario. He tries digging a well for himself, but as the coins get up to his shoulders, it’s impossible to keep the coins at bay.
The coins are up to his bill now and Scrooge knows it’s only a matter of time before he begins to suffocate. He takes a deep breath and hopes to dear god that some miracle would happen.]
2/2
That’s enough.
[The coins suddenly stop raining down on Scrooge. Next to Bill there is a man standing in front of him, with his hand on the lever in the “off” position. Minus his strange gray appearance, he seems like a normal human man, and he seems strangely familiar to the guests witnessing him.
He stranger looks like he’s barely containing his anger as he speaks.]
Bill, I’m ashamed that you think you would even dream of doing something like this! This whole thing is tarnishing EPCOT’s name just by existing! Every single thing about this attractions sickens me and I don't know how you live with yourself.
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