foolishmortals | 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Everybody knows all Scrooge wears is his worn red coat, and he never leaves the house without his spats. He's half-dressed for every occasion, but anyway. His coat is a match in terms of color and texture.]

[ Alright well, the important part: is it torn? ]

[Not that they can see, no.]

Edited 2017-12-09 23:55 (UTC)

[ ...Between the color and the feathers... ]

Mr. McDuck, how do you feel about taking off your coat for me? I'd like to get a complete look at it.

As a matter of fact, I wouldn't feel comfortable exposing myself in the middle of a trial.

...But.

You're already not wearing pants.

[That's just how it is on this bitch of an earth]

We're from different cultures with different customs. I don't have to wear pants if I don't need to. It isn't a sin if you're a duck without bottoms. But asking a fellow to strip completely naked in front of a jury? I think not!

[ IT'S WEIRD, OKAY. LIKE, SHE HAS FRIENDS WHO DON'T WEAR PANTS AND THIS IS WEIRD. ]

...Sir, you have to realize how bad this looks.

[If you don't wear pants you! are! valid!]

I don't care, I didn't kill the girl. And I don't have to listen to the lot of you implying I had something to do with it!

Edited 2017-12-10 02:58 (UTC)

Until we find the guilty party, yes, you do. None of us leaves here before this is solved.

Would you feel more comfortable in front of me than her? [He jerks a thumb at Annabeth, then he reaches around his back to rip the remainder of his cape off so he can hold it up like a cover.]

This.. ah.. I don't want to sound too forward, but it would be much easier if you just took your clothes off.

[...]

Then perhaps I can assist?

[ Loki conjures up the illusion of shower curtains. ]

We can keep roving eyes to a minimum and still satisfy the needs of evidence.

[...

He sure as hell can't get out of this one. Might as well.. give the people what they want.

Scrooge sighs behind the fake curtains, and gingerly rids himself of his coat before handing it to Annabeth to examine. She will notice the cuff of his left sleeve is torn and missing.]

[ ...Yeah, here it is. By now they've had the Bill nonsense so she just...sighs. Does the torn piece of fabric match?

She's gonna guess yeah. ]

[It does.]

Do you want to explain how your coat got ripped, Mr. McDuck?

...

You...you gave me pancakes!

[He doesn't seem to know whether to be angry or upset. Probably both.]

I trusted you!

...You automatically trust anyone willing to provide food.

[ More commentary than question, really. ]

Well, in my experience, people who willingly share and prepare food for others aren't murderers! I, I--

[By now his anger is winning over his shock.]