AL-2955 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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cradleproject2016-07-09 01:54 pm
al2955) wrote in cradleproject2016-07-09 01:54 pm
WEEK 5 - Trial
| the pygmalion. . . ONLINE  CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (5) |
saturday TRIAL DAY ONE (32) survivors  At 9 AM, a klaxon alarm begins blaring in every area of the ship. The alarm will continue to go off until everyone has gathered in the conference room. Should anyone be running late or avoiding the trial for whatever reason, a robot guide will appear wherever they are and gently but firmly escort them into the room. Once all the living players are present, the conference room doors will lock shut; anyone who wishes to leave for whatever reason will need to ask AL-2955 or one of the robots. Anyone leaving for non-investigative purposes, such as bathroom breaks, will be accompanied by a robot escort. The large round table in the center of the conference room has been set up to help the trial run as smoothly as possible. Three holographic screens hover above the center hollow of the table, visible from every angle. The first screen displays the pictures and profiles of the suspects and victim; the second displays the autopsy report; the third displays a blank word processor. Each of the chairs comes equipped with a virtual keyboard which can be used to type information directly into the third screen, such as theories and updated information; they can also be set into privacy mode, which will transfer whatever notes someone writes directly into their datapad instead of on screen. There's also a tablet function for those who wish to draw charts or pictures on screen. The keyboards will detect the DNA of whoever's using them and record who's typed what - simply press an area of text and the name of whoever wrote it will pop up. The area to the right of the table has been temporarily sectioned off with a glass partition and sliding door for hygienic issues. Inside, the victim's body has been laid out on a metal autopsy table, covered by a plastic sheet. Above it is a holographic screen that displays a close-up color photograph of the body when it was found. A hand sanitizer dispenser has been considerately attached to the wall nearby for anyone getting up close and personal to the body. To the left of the conference table is a display case. Any evidence found during the investigation will be carefully collected by the robots at some point the previous day and placed here before the trial starts. Beneath each piece of evidence is a small tablet where players can type up information, such as a short description or where it was found. There are also empty areas left over for any evidence that may be found during the trial. The shelf at the very bottom of the case has been reserved for an extra rulebook in case anyone needs it. Food will be served throughout the day by the robots, who will take individual orders whenever you're feeling hungry. The trial will end at 9:00 PM, at which point all players will have been expected to cast their vote. |
Setting
Rulebook
Voting
Hancock
or at least not without him]no subject
Looking around the room with the ladder first, though. Is there anything to see around here, or is it just a boring room with a boring ladder? Will there be marks on the walls or door frame? Gotta be thorough after #calypsogate.]
So. Any reason you asked to specifically search this room? I don't think there are any heavy drugs for you to incinerate in here, if that's what you're looking for.
[This is a good way to start a conversation. Really. The best way. Amazing.]
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If Jason is content on looking at the room for the ladder, she climbs up - luckily that skirt is so long there's no eye candy there. Sorry, Jason. But, forreal she stops mid-way and looks down. ]
Um... He's a friend.
[ She doesn't mention the towel, not wanting to make it an active effort right off the bat. ]
He deserves someone who is thorough with their searching. If he's innocent or guilty, the justice of it should be revealed. Call me arrogant, but I believe I can help find that answer a lot better than others.
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Getting up to the actual room though - well first off, the floor will have a few empty bottle kinda toppled all over it. None of them are broken, they're just there because Hancock is a messy sort who forgets to bring his bottles into the trash.
Other than that, his room isn't too much of a horror. Time to search.]
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But getting to the actual room—]
You believe this because you know something we don't? Or is that your bias talking? You called him a "friend". Not really easy to be objective when someone like that is in the hot seat.
[He'll leave the bottles exactly where they are. One man's trash is not another man's treasure, in this case. He will, however, go take a look at Hancock's clothes. What will he find there? He's not afraid to take one for the team and sniff them if he has to.]
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It's my bias. [ Sorry, Jason. She lies pretty coldly right there. ] He took it upon himself to ensure justice during the paranoia week. We've discussed quite often his ideals and while I may be naive in some regards, I'm not blind. He has never made threats or shown any ulterior motives except for the killer.
[ A pause as she finally starts looking around. The first thing she does is go for the bathroom. She checks the sink, any cabinet and anything on the floor. ]
I don't believe he would kill unless it was killing a killer. Someone who earned it. If... that makes sense.
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Inside the bathroom isn't anything too fascinating. However, Elizabeth will find a used towel swung over the pole of the shower door. It has only a slight damp feeling to it, as it's nearly finished air drying now, but there's no colored spots on it.]
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You do realize people lie, right? That's a thing people do. Lie. Anyone can pretend to be an upstanding citizen, while being a murderous freak. It's not like it's hard.
[Why are all these clothes look like they were taken out of a historical catalog......... Why.................
But, alright. Have any of Hancock's clothes been recently cleaned? And do any of them smell like chlorine or anything else? He'll also be looking through the pockets because why not, and keeping an eye out for any suspicious marks or what-have-yous.]
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[ Shes more stern with her voice as she finds the towel. If there's nothing noticeable, she sighs in relief and leaves it. But she does give it a look over just in case.
Elizabeth leaves the bathroom, looking towards his bed. Is there anything tucked under the mattress? Anything near the pillows? ]
What do you expect me to do? I'm looking for evidence that could incriminate him - not hide it. I ... I just need to find it myself.
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Upon closer inspection, most of the shirts have very light stains that smell of liquor. Most of the shirts won't really smell anything past that. A couple though...sorry Jason, but they'll smell a little foul. Hancock hasn't really washed any of these clothes.
The shirts and vests have no pockets. One of the pants will have a couple of white round tablets, imprinted on them the word "MENTATS" in the middle.
There's nothing out of the ordinary about the towel aside from dampness.
Nothing is tucked under the bed. However if Elizabeth looks under the pillows, she will find some folded papers. On top of the fold reads "THE LAST WILL OF JOHN HANCOCK" in a fancy script.]
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[His nose? It's never unsmelling that. Ever. Ugh. He'll leave the Mentants where they are. He was curious about the item listed on Hancock's profile, but not enough to, you know. Steal it. And possibly get high using it. The fuck is a Mentant.]
I don't expect you to do anything. But, like you said, you could be lying to me. What the hell do I know?
[Anyway, time to leave his smelly clothes alone and go take a look at his desk. Is there anything immediately visible on it? He'll check the drawers, too, in the interest of being thorough.]
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But, the fancy will is. ]
Jason.
[ She says his name pretty sternly. Her fingers flip the pages, looking for excerpts or anything outstanding. Noteworthy.
Needless to say her heart is racing. ]
Come here.
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There's nothing very visible on the desk. A few crumbs, implying he ate something there, but they're quite stale. The drawers have paper and pen...and one of them has a dildo...unused, don't worry Jason.
The will is at least two pages long and they're full of text just from cursory flipping. The first page mainly talks about "Goodneighbor", mentioning someone named Fahrenheit receiving it and some remarks about the "Minutemen." The second page talks about possessions, and there's a paragraph mentioning some familiar names on the ship. Elizabeth's is one of them.]
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Going over to where Elizabeth is, he's going to take one look at the document she's holding and then raise an eyebrow.]
... Huh. [Well.] I know we're expected to kill each other, but I didn't think anyone would prepare a will. Do you think he wrote it for this week, specifically?
[Because if he did, that's kind of... suspicious? Not really, but. Hm. He's going to go ahead and trample all over Hancock's privacy, reading the whole thing if he can. Is there a date on it?]
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I don't know. I've written letters but not a will. I don't think writing wills in this setting would yield any results...? There's no jurisdiction here to ensure it is honored.
[ but She totally is going to snoop with Jason. ]
1/2
If you're reading this, either one of two things happened.
1. I am dead. That fucking sucks.
2. I am alive. And you're a goddamn asshole, so put the will down and cut the shit out.
Either way, I feel it only obligatory to leave a will when I have a whole town back home that will need a new Mayor. Goodneighbor is a home by the people, for the people. I liberated it from a real piece of shit and I'll be damned if someone tries to undo all the good that's been done because I'm a corpse. With that said, I'd appreciate it if this will makes it back to Goodneighbor in one piece. Though I'm positive if I'm gone for too long, my favorite bodyguard will be able to handle things.
Speaking of which: Fahrenheit, guess what? It's time to put on a fancy tri-fold hat and become the new Mayor. You've stuck by me since the day we decided to take Vic down, and I can't think of anyone in the Commonwealth I trust more to run Goodneighbor.
I know you're the cool, silent type, and maybe being Mayor isn't your thing. I get it and it's not like I can fucking command you to do anything when I'm dead. Shit, this is just paper. If that's so, just make sure you find someone who would do a good job keeping the spirit of the town alive. I trust your judgment.
(But don't you dare give it over to the Minutemen. I don't care how many times Preston Garvey keeps on knockin', don't let him come in or come back tomorrow to try again. I love the guy and what he does, but Goodneighbor is its own settlement with its own way of life.)
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-My art gallery will be going public for everyone to stare at, with the new Goodneighbor Gallery being made to my dedication. If you need a place to put it, take a safehouse from one of those piece of shit gangs in town.
-Weapons and armor stay where they are. Fahrenheit can take care of it. Any surplus can be sold to the stores for resale. Sure our lovely clerks will appreciate it.
-Any cheap liquor will go to the bar. The good shit that's like over two hundred years old stays where it is. Have a toast in my honor!
-Chems will be offered to anyone who wants them at a small fee. Those caps will be funneled into our trade network. Just make sure no one gets more than two. Don't sell to any of the addicts.
Also instead of a funeral or anything depressing like that, throw a goddamn party for the whole town at The Third Rail and our state house. Pay Magnolia extra to sing all the hits. Celebrate my fucking life and what it was. I wouldn't call myself perfect by any means, but I lived as I wanted to and helped people out along the way. Think I'd call that a success. Make sure Piper Wright is there to report on me too. Even if you got to bribe her into writing a story about me. Apparently she kind of hates me? Guess because I'm not the strict moral type like her.
Ok that aside, rest of this is for the ship. Yeah, YOU ASSHOLES READING THIS NOW. Good work letting me die! You really did it now!
Nah, just kidding. Look, I don't think I have to tell you all that the killings are gonna keep on happening. I'm writing this during the one weekend where no one has died so good work, but it won't last. This sick experiment is going to go on until whoever the fuck is running this shit wants it to stop.
Here's my message: Make sure any asshole who murders someone hangs for it. The only time murder is excusable is if you're murdering the asshole who attacked you. Otherwise, there's no good reason to do it. No motive, no promise, nothing said should be used as an excuse.
Iron Bull, you keep being you.
Dorian, you're kind of a dick but you're a helpful dick. Love the mustache by the way.
Judar, I admire what a little shit you are but you really gotta tone it down or no one is gonna wanna have you around.
Adrien & Marinette, just fucking make out already and get it over with. You're like, what, 14? That's old enough.
Yuno, I'm naming you Mayor of the Teens. Keep everyone in line. Especially Emily, Roxy and Dave.
Jessie, sorry I voted for you that first week. Seriously, my bad. I'm glad you're alive and not a killer.
Shelley, you're my favorite drunk and you can have the rest of the liquor in my room. Just don't lock yourself up again.
Finally Elizabeth. I'm not sure about what happened in your life, but clearly something did. Now I'm not one to give really cheesey speeches, so I won't even in death. Know this: you're strong, and you know it. I'm sorry I won't be around to the end of this, but I know you can face whatever's ahead. Don't let anyone talk you down for who you are. You got the biggest heart in this group, and I know you'll do great things in life. So please, stay alive and stay safe.
(Oh and if anyone else but you reads that part, fucking break their nose. You got my permission.)
To the rest of you - stop killing each other over petty motives. This is an experiment, the only part of it that's real is all the damn corpses. Understand? You're not going to get ANYTHING you want out of the people running this or the A.I. that keeps dunking on us. Don't play into their hand. No one has to hold hands through all this, but we can't be killing each other over promises that won't be kept.
Peace out, assholes. I better be the last person to die on this damn ship.
John Hancock / John McDonough
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It says this was written during "the one weekend where no one has died", which means... It wasn't written this week, obviously. Probably last weekend.
[Also, wow? Don't tell Elizabeth to break his nose? He's not offering any commentary about the part mentioning Elizabeth, but he's just. Kind of. Absentmindedly rubbing his nose here for a second. Doesn't even notice he did it until it's too late.]
It's not evidence, so we can put it back where you found it. Think he might appreciate if we pretended we didn't read it, too.
[That said... is there anything else of interest on the beds or the shelving space? Probably not, but. Gotta pretend he didn't read someone's will.]
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Like the girl she is, her eyes are watering and she's going to have to sign a bit to catch her breath. It's morbid to read and while this is just a lot to consume, it's not evidence. It's not incriminating. Definitely shuffles the papers back under his pillow. ]
Right... Right. It's invasive of us and I won't mention it.
[ Elizabeth isn't good at crimes unlike Jason!!! So she forgoes it and instead sits on the edge of the bed to catch her barings. ]
There was nothing so far on my end.
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ok no, jk y'all, nothing of interest.]
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He'll check the trash, too, just in case, but... There's probably nothing there? Looks like Hancock might be in the clear as far as obviously incriminating items go.]
Nothing so far on my end, either. Guess your friend didn't do it. Or he's just smart enough not to stash anything in his room.
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[ But, she's going to stand up and give Jason a serious look. ]
Thank you for assisting me with this. It means a lot.
[ Her eyes had dried up (mainly by her own rubbing) so its back to business. ]
If there's nothing else, let's head back.
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ANYWAY. Pointedly ignoring that thank you and moving away from the trash. Because he is an adult. Who handles getting thanked for things like this like an adult does. Ugh.]
Yeah, doesn't look like there's anything else. Let's skedaddle.