WEEK 8 - Execution

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (7)

sunday EXECUTION (22) survivors As voting comes to an end, a song filters in played so loud that it becomes distored and fragmented. If a participant checks their datapad, they will see the the victim and suspect chosen by majority's pictures displayed. If they attempt to scroll, they will see a list of characters and their votes in alphabetical order.

victim




culprit



accomplice



Character Statuses
Setting
Rulebook
Votes

Comments

Results

[al2955]

[ After the song ends, an announcement plays.

Iron Bull: 17
Dorian Pavus: 1
Adam Parrish: 0
Luke Castellan: 1
Grell Sutcliffe: 2 ]

Your votes have been tallied. Congratulations! You discovered the true culprit, Hissrad. Unfortunately, you did not catch his accomplice in the murder, Dorian Pavus. Time will be allotted for the culprit to be spoken to.

[qundercover]

[Hissrad looks calm enough. He has never been one for histrionics. Struggle is an illusion, and this is only the pieces of a greater part. His purpose is fulfilled.]

It was a choice. Mages are susceptible to possession, weak to demons. If you're possessed here, you can't tell. We could only guess. And they offered me the choice to kill one man, and showed the death of my people. It was easy. That's the why. Don't blame Dorian - he tried for the right reasons - I told him what was on the line, and he was willing to try.

How was more complicated. I strangled him in the library. Killing a mage is simple if they don't see you coming. He was necromanced back to his room and tore up the place, made it look like a mess. All the rest was a distraction. Interesting idea with the poison salad though. Should keep that in mind. Guess it doesn't Arumatter now.

[monsieurchatastrophe]

[IN ANY OTHER CIRCUMSTANCE, HE WOULD APPRECIATE THE PUN, BUT:] "The death of your people"? What do you mean?

[antietam]

... They? Someone told you to do it?

[chiseler]

Who's "they", exactly?

[breakshot]

You still killed one person. One person who had nothing to do with any of this.

[ Machias is seething. Arumat would have gone down fighting! He did not deserve to go down like this...! ]

And that's your only reason? That's it?

[parodeity]

Wait, you're sayin' you targeted Arumat because you thought he might go alien on us? Elizabeth and Rhys weren't mages.

[muties]

Ok, first off "Hissrad" is a weird but cool name. Tho you're not as rad as I thought? So more like. Hisslame now.

Second, I feel less conflicted about your death after that pun.

[antagonize]

Arumatter. Nice. Would be nicer, though, if you weren't about get executed for murder.

[OH, WELL. That said:]

Let me guess. You had one of those third party roles the rulebook talks about.

[missmaladroite]

That doesn't give you the right to kill him!

[Look at this tiny teenager getting all pissed off, she looks like an angry chihuahua] "Mages are susceptible to possession?" What a load of nonsense! Elizabeth and Rhys weren't mages! You had no proof! You're nothing but a murderer! Dorian too!

[todorable]

You--

[the pun, really?]

...Why him?

[tevinteriscoming]

I'm willing to leave it to popular opinion whether we intend to blame Dorian.

[He's so tired. But he's here for him until it's over.]

[bloodbiter]

No, he didn't do this for the right reasons. Neither did you. Don't try to justify this! There is no reason to murder here besides cowardice and weakness!

[douchemag]

[Okay well he narrows his eyes about the whole 'mages are weak to demons' thing because only where you come from asshole - but that last sentence sends him into a choking fit.]

Holy shit. Oh man, you're totally wrong about the mage thing, but it's still gonna be sad to see you go.

[BECAUSE SERIOUSLY THOSE JOKES ARE A TREASURE???]

[bloodteller]

[ okay you know what, she has a really important question ]

So... are you part of the Men in Black?

[ that's all she's gotten from this discussion about a third party role??? ]

[hatslinger]

Sometimes I can't tell how serious you are or not, and my one infallible skill is calling bluffs. Pretty frustrating.

[ her jape is light enough that bull can tell she's kidding. an attempt to lighten the dour mood, which she assumes is what he's trying to do by adding in a pun to his explanation. ]

You had a reason. That's more than a lot of the previous assholes can say. So I hope wherever Alice takes you, there's a catsuit with your name on it.

RETIREMENT

[al2955]

[ In a flash, Hissrad's body collapses onto the floor, lifeless.

Hissrad is alone. The veil of night looms overhead, and, as he looks around, he'll find himself in a place uncomfortably familiar. The air is balmy and terse, like a moment frozen. The trees above all have fruit blooming from them, but every last one is neutered right down the middle. Hissrad reaches up to touch one, only to see his hand is covered in a thick plate of metal. He doesn't have long to focus on that, though, for soon after his eyes wander to the sky, torn and rended asunder, with green and black cracks. It seems almost as if the sky might fall entirely.

Once again, he doesn't have too long to focus on this. He hears a distinct sound coming from the ground, like it, too, is ripping apart, and from a fissure in the group comes two identical slabs of stone. They are rounded, and only come out partially, and each is engraved with one word — 'madness' and 'temptation', respectively.

Looking up, Hissrad will see Dorian. Except he doesn't seem quite right. He's teetering back and forth in an unfamiliar, graceless way, unlike the poised and restrained Dorian he had known. Hissrad reaches out to touch him, but he notices something behind him — a ghastly creature with a tendril wrapped around Dorian's head. It appears to fade in and out of existence, a non-corporeal silhouette. Hissrad backs away, removing his axe from his back. Dorian takes a step closer, his arm contorting, flesh bursting from every part of his body until nothing is left but a mass of viscera. Hissrad strikes. The arm is knocked clean off, but the creature does not stop its advances. It makes no attempt to strike Hissrad, but nevertheless seems aggressive.

Once again, Hissrad strikes, his head careening away as he does.

"Is this not what you wanted to do, Hissrad? Did you not seek annihilation?"

When Hissrad looks again, he'll see the creature bubbling, sinking into itself, as if its being was sublimating into the humid atmosphere. The knub left after he cut its arm clean off is still outstretched towards him, and it is the last thing remaining when there is nothing left of the being.

Hissrad turns, dejected, no longer looking towards where Dorian once stood. He begins to walk away.

"There it is! It is the one! The one who assassinated the heir of house Pavus!"

Hissrad stops dead in his tracks at that. He looks over his shoulder, seeing a gaggle of strangely clad warriors approaching. He notices one run straight for a mangled heap of gore and flesh. When he turns more, he notices it is Dorian.. as he remembered him. There is a clean and large gash through his shoulder, nearly separating his top half from his bottom, destroying his lush linens entirely and steeping them deep in blood.

Now Hissrad is turning completely. He doesn't have a chance to reach Dorian, though — the group of warriors are turning their attention to Hissrad, and they throw out several chains. They wrap around his horns, weighing down his head inside the heavy helmet he now donned, and around his arms and legs. Rendered immobile, he could only struggle futilely as the group of warriors approached.

"A maddened creature. We would do well to purge all of these from Seheron — from all of Thedas, if it possible."

Hissrad tries to open his mouth, but he cannot. His lips are sewn shut, and his struggles only rip the skin esh from them, causing his mouth to become a grisly glasgow smile.

"We would do well to remove, well, that. I do not know if this is true, but I fear that he will continue to live if we do not."

The warriors nod each other, and slowly, one approaches Hissrad. He places two hands on either side of the helmet, lifting it off as Hissrad struggles. Another approaches, a large dagger in one hand.

"I almost feel sorry for it. It does not seem sentient — just a wild bull in its death throes."

Despite his words, he does not hesitate to plunge the dagger into the dome of Hissrad's head. Hissrad would scream, but his mouth is still sewn, and it only serves to deepen the pain as grey flaps of skin float to the ground like petals. The warrior continues to carve at his head like a child might desecrate a pumpkin until Hissrad's head only has about half as much skin as it did initially. When he finishes, he reaches in and plucks from it a pulsing lump, as grey as Hissrad's skin. Despite his brain being pecked out of his head, Hissrad's body continues to writhe and twist as a dying dragon might.

"Funny. I thought it would be much smaller. I suppose everything on this beast is of equal size, despite its apparent lack of intelligence."

With this jape, he drops Hissrad's brain onto the ground. He kicks some dirt up on it, and then, with one firm step, crushes it under his heel. Grey matter flies away, atoms and thoughts and memories tinting Hissrad's armor.

The last thing Hissrad sees as he falls to his knees is Dorian's body, harvested, neutered, and claimed like those fruit he had seen a few minutes prior. Around his lips, he notes a red pearl of wine — or maybe it's blood. He never decides if it was Dorian's blood or his own. ]

[tevinteriscoming]

[Well.

He wasn't sure he was going to watch this one. He's still deciding back and forth on whether he feels he owes it to Bull to watch or whether he feels he owes it to him not to watch. But then he's in it, and his horrified fascination wins over both emotions. If he were a better man, he might watch and feel horror on Bull's behalf, for his fears turned against him. But instead, he feels horror for himself, the the pointed intent of the message, the knowledge of what he's already become. And then, in the end, he can't watch after all, too light-headed and ill and sad to continue.

But it's not over yet.

He slinks down in his chair in the conference room and waits.]

[socloverit]

Alice.

[She approaches the second the execution is over, and hates the way the name sounds when she's using it for this. Grief piled onto grief piled onto grief; she doesn't feel any of it anymore because it's all she feels. She's so tired.]

The trial's over. The scythe isn't evidence anymore. Can I keep it? He said he wanted me to have it.

[#letcloverkeepthescythe!!!!!!!]

[al2955]

Very well, Clover. As Arumat allowed you to keep this under your possession, I will release it to you.

[tevinteriscoming]

[After the execution is over, remaining in the conference room, in his chair. It takes him some time to regain any of his typical poise, and even so it's still frail; he's slouched in a way he nearly never does, and the typical confidence in his voice is shaken.

But he also knows he owes something. Owes more than Bull did, calmly explaining his actions to a crowd that would jeer him to his death, for his crime of preferring thousands of lives to one, and not appearing suitably remorseful about it. Though not one part of him can find it in himself to think what Bull did was wrong, Bull is also gone now, and he's still here, must be dealt with by a half dozen people with far more legitimate grievances.

So. He doesn't take the action he would like best, to abscond from the conference room with as many bottles of wine as he can carry and wait until the robots force him out. He waits, instead, to see what the others would prefer seen done with him.]

It has been a long day for all of us. Shall I wait around, or would we all prefer to do this at a more civilized hour? I'll leave it to you.

[antietam]

[ Adam is keen on leaving soon as well, but he can't ignore Dorian like this. ]

Arumat was a good person. [ His voice is much cooler than it has been with Dorian, and there's no admiration in his eyes. ] But I think you did what you thought was good, too. Bull took the blame. I don't want to keep feeding into this game by doing something to you.

[monsieurchatastrophe]

[he's not going to talk, but he is moving himself to be closer to Dorian just in case. he made a promise to Bull and he's ready to keep it.

he hasn't transformed yet tho but since it's a matter of seconds and he doesn't need to hide it... He hopes it doesn't come down to that, though.]

[missmaladroite]

[She looks angry, but like Adrien, she's nearby in case someone tries to hurt him, poised to transform at any second.]

How much did you know about his role?

[douchemag]

[Judar looks irritated, though it's not at Dorian so much as it is at this whole situation in general.]

It is way too late for this shit. If someone wants to pick a fight with you for helping out your boyfriend when it sounds like he got screwed by Ass Lice way worse than the rest of us, they can do it tomorrow.