Ghost Host (
yourghosthost) wrote in
foolishmortals2017-06-24 12:14 pm
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Trial 1
[After everyone has finished their investigations, everyone finds themselves gathering in the stretching room once more. The door shuts behind them. The corpse swings above the proceedings, ominously, and wandering eyes can't help but draw their attention to it.
It especially draws attention when it appears to move upward.
The whole room seems to move downwards, as the walls get longer and the ceiling gets further away. A snide comment from your Host echoes throughout the room:]
Tell me. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it just your imagination?
Find your place in the graveyard. I will be with you shortly.
[After a few moments, the room stops. A new door opens.
It appears to be an outside area, covered in overgrown plants and moss. An incredibly high gated fence surrounds the whole area, and perpetual darkness (accompanied by a bright full moon) sets the mood. A cobblestone path goads you on through this area, leading to a circle of 25 tombstones, each labeled with a participants picture, name and their birthdate. They're arranged to face each other, ominously enough. On top of each tombstone is a small typewriter-esque keyboard.
The only unique tombstone here is the only marked for Karolina. It's adorned with a red rose and a glass of cognac, and her tombstone is marked with a limerick:
Here Lies Karolina Dean
She might have had a rough life
But she really didn't deserve that knife
As everyone finds their places, the Host speaks.]
The keyboard on your tombstone shall be used for voting who you believe committed this crime. Due to the...nature of some of our participants, I will be forgiving misspellings and accidental presses, but each guest shall only receive one vote, and we go by majority rules.
Take all the time you need, please. There's no turning back now.]
It especially draws attention when it appears to move upward.
The whole room seems to move downwards, as the walls get longer and the ceiling gets further away. A snide comment from your Host echoes throughout the room:]
Tell me. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it just your imagination?
Find your place in the graveyard. I will be with you shortly.
[After a few moments, the room stops. A new door opens.
It appears to be an outside area, covered in overgrown plants and moss. An incredibly high gated fence surrounds the whole area, and perpetual darkness (accompanied by a bright full moon) sets the mood. A cobblestone path goads you on through this area, leading to a circle of 25 tombstones, each labeled with a participants picture, name and their birthdate. They're arranged to face each other, ominously enough. On top of each tombstone is a small typewriter-esque keyboard.
The only unique tombstone here is the only marked for Karolina. It's adorned with a red rose and a glass of cognac, and her tombstone is marked with a limerick:
Here Lies Karolina Dean
She might have had a rough life
But she really didn't deserve that knife
As everyone finds their places, the Host speaks.]
The keyboard on your tombstone shall be used for voting who you believe committed this crime. Due to the...nature of some of our participants, I will be forgiving misspellings and accidental presses, but each guest shall only receive one vote, and we go by majority rules.
Take all the time you need, please. There's no turning back now.]
EXECUTION: A Life For A Life
[A large stage appears at the edge of the graveyard, and Mulan disappears. The lights come on on the stage, and she is there, kneeling before the proceedings. She hangs her head low, allowing her natural hair to flow freely. Barbed chains fall around her knees and hands, drawing blood in the process. Even with these, she doesn't look like she wants to run anytime soon.
All of a sudden, hazy voices come through, as figures rise up above her. Skeletal figures, decaying and wearing traditional clothing, judge her from above. One carries a staff, appearing to be the leader, and their voices rise as they speak of her with disdain.]
"She is a failure!"
"She has brought dishonor to us all!"
"Dishonor on her whole family!"
"She couldn't even kill the girl properly!"
A cacophony of voices rise all around her, each offering their own disdainful opinion of her. Yet, despite this, she does not react. She hears you, Reverend Ancestors. She hears you all.
Admist the own conflicting advice to their "descendant", a ghostly steed appears from the back of the stage. A silhouetted soldier steps off of the horse, his gait more resembling the slow shuffle of the undead than the honorable swagger of a soldier. A sword is loudly pulled from a sheath on the soldier's side, carrying with it it's own distinctive sound. His cape floats about in the wind as he approaches Mulan from behind, dragging his sword on the stage below.
Loud boots mark his arrival, and although Mulan might hear the sound, she kneels and does not react. She must die a soldier's death. For herself. For her family. For honor. There might be tears in Mulan's eyes as the cachophony of voices reaches their highest peak, as the sword is raised up.]
"A woman!"
"High treason!"
"Ultimate dishonor!"
"Deception!"
"Disgrace!"
[The sword finds its mark. The voices go silent.
Mulan's head rolls off to the side, her experssion a terrible visage of pain. It bounces along the ground with sickening terrible thuds every time it lands. A river of blood begins to pool up around the scene. Her body goes limp and falls forward, blood soaking the rusty chains that bind her.
The scene goes silent. All the onstage actors freeze.]
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There's a great big beautiful tomorrow
Shining at the end of every day
There's a great big beautiful tomorrow
And tomorrow's just a dream away
Man has a dream and that's the start
He follows his dream with mind and heart
When it becomes a reality
It's a dream come true for you and me
So there's a great big beautiful tomorrow
Shining at the end of every day
There's a great big beautiful tomorrow
Just a dream away
[...and the stage rotates away, as though it were in a rotating theatre. Mulan's head sickeningly rolling along the stage as it moves away, and blood begins to move around with the rotation of the stage. Eventually, it rotates into a brand new stage.
The carousel of progress rolls on.]
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It's horrific. It's dramatic, and it's tasteless, and he'll never, ever get the image of Mulan's head rolling around so grotesquely out of his head.
They can't let this happen again. They just can't.]
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N O P E
O
P
E
NOPE
Star had only just resigned herself to the fact that Mulan was going to die, but she never in a million years thought the ghost would turn it into such a ridiculous spectacle. Mulan is kind and honorable and does not deserve whatever THAT was. She starts to tremble, her hands balling into fists, and then she screams at the top of her lungs.]
WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?
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I am gonna PUNCH A GHOST.
And I am gonna THROW UP.
...not necessarily in that order.
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[Kiara tried mauling a ghost. It didn't work.]
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But its been a long day of emotional turmoil and the sight of Mulan's head, in pure pain, breaks the camel's back.]
JE-SUS CHRIST!
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I concur, Mr. Cricket.
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That is what makes everything awful.
And then that music. It's disgusting.
He tightens his grip, glaring at the happy display.]
You can't just force happiness like this.
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She growls softly, a protest and a complaint and a way to drown out the noise.]
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She's seen worse, heard worse, but this still sickens her right down to her core.
Mulan's head hits the floor, and she winces, hoping that would be the end of it, but then the singing starts. Really? Something about it just makes her blood broil. Her fists clench white until it's all over.]
.... [She's got a number of things she wants to say, but now she's mad.] I can't... I just can't.
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Ford leans over toward Fiddleford's tombstone, still giving him plenty of space.]
It's over. It's gone. It's safe to look.
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I am goin' to die in this house, Stanford.
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Like hell you will. I won't let that happen.
[But it's a promise even he's not sure he can keep.]
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He wants to. He wants something to ground him, and Ford is the only person here that he really knows that well. They used to be best friends. If anyone could be an anchor here it would be Stanford Pines, but... but what if he gets that anchor dropped on his head?
This metaphor's gotten away from him a little. It's fine. He'll ground himself. He's done it before. It's fine.]
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The moment she realizes where this is going, she does the only thing she can think to do: rush over and cover Wander's eyes, even though does it in a rush and is so glued to the scene that she can't even bother to check if Wander's eyes were properly covered.
As the stage rotates, she starts muttering to herself, loudly enough for her to be easily heard.]
There has to be a way out of here. There has to be a weak point in this building somewhere...
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[She definitely doesn't want to die in this house.]
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[That really was crass, ghost host. Demyx turns around, having watched everything. He really doesn't want to keep watching, so better try to go away, covering his face.
This mansion and its game is the worst thing ever]
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He doesn't register the dewy grass beneath his knees, cold through his stockings, or the way that the coarse stone of his headstone scrapes his palms. There's only blood, everywhere, and he might as well be up there with her because he can't breathe, she was just a young girl and yet she'd bowed to the blade so readily.
He's as pale as death itself, each breath a struggle to draw with the effort it takes not to scream and wail. But he pries his gaze away when the stage begins to move, leaning with his back against his own headstone, head tilted back and a look of agony on his face.]
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She can hear the commotion. She can hear that song, but she focuses on the sound of her heartbeat thundering in her ears and her own rapid breathing until she can't hear anything else anymore. And even then, she still keeps her ears covered.
A dream, a dream... that's all this is... it has to be nothing but.... she and Anna will wake up back in Arendelle any minute now, and everything will be okay....]
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Mike finds he can't tear his eyes away until Mulan's head goes rolling--then he justs, balls a fist, and turns, walking off and looking away until they're allowed to leave proper.]