Masquerad3 Mayhem: Life Edition. 18 Students trapped on a boat with no idea of anyone's identity, including their own. Currently at the end of Chaper 1! Death Edition
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Don’t Be So Pathetic, Just Open Up and Sing || Chapter 4 Event
“This might be the worst possible chain of events.”
Futility’s voice rang clear at the back of the theater, him having followed everyone down to find the body. His voice was overwhelming with disappointment and disgust. The monitor nearest to him clicked on with a familiar laugh.
“Well well, better get to work, rammy-boy! A tarot card won't clean itself!” AnoNv2.0 cackled. Their laughter was cut off quickly.
“No.” Futility said plainly.
“Excuse me?” AnoNv2.0 demanded.
“I refuse. I will no longer be aiding you in this silly game, and I will make sure that Deadline joins my side.” Futility adjusted his hooves as if he were wearing gloves, and tapped a foot patiently on the ground.
“You?” AnoNv2.0 burst into a fit of giggles. “You think you can just deny me? You think you can deny your destiny?”
“This is no destiny of mine.” Futility said, with a tone equivalent to having spit on AnoNv2.0’s screen.
“You will always belong to me.” AnoNv2.0 said, seemingly unphased. “You will always be my servant. You are my butler, isn't that right, Dojima-chan? Oni?”
Futility grit his teeth, silent.
“I’ve killed you before, sweetheart. Don't forget I can do it again.” AnoNv2.0 said. “Your makeshift life is in my hands and I could have you replaced within a second. Now. Get. To. Work.”
AnoNv2.0 shut off, leaving Futility in silence. He shuffled forward, standing by the students, once again ready to assist.
But Without You I’m Afraid I’ll Fall || Chapter 4 Motive
It was in all ways, a lovely day out. The sun shone through the windows on the ship, and the waves were gently crashing against the hull. However the majority of the occupants of the ship failed to be at ease. It had been a few days after the unlocking of the new floor, the time at which AnoNv2.0 would normally arrive to announce whatever motivations they wanted to give to cause a murder. More than enough people were nervous.
Still, life had to go on somehow, which was how Lenny managed to gather a group of friends to go swimming, or at least hang out around the pool, on Floor 3. It was a jovial procession, thinly veiled as an attempt to keep everyone's minds of off things. This attempt of course, was futile.
It wasn't clear who spotted it first, Trident’s body slumped over the railing at the side of the ship, with a splotch of red spreading over his back, but regardless, everyone rushed over to see if he was okay.
Trident was motionless, unbreathing, and irrevocably deceased.
Before AnoNv2.0 could even take a breath everyone was already investigating, which is to say, looking in front of Trident and seeing the rope tied to the same railing he leaned on, with an unidentifiable object hanging from the end.
A selection of the group quickly rushed down the stairs, all the way to the landing of Floor 6. The largest window on the ship was that at the back of the newly unveiled stage there, and it would surely provide a better vantage point for the suspended object.
As soon as the door to the stage was opened, the salty breeze of the sea hit the party in the face. The window at the back of the stage had shattered, and in clear view outside of it... was Chai.
Blood dripped from his head, as he spun slowly on the rope he was tied to by the ankles. There was no need to check his pulse. Chai was dead.
Shiba's head shot up at the sound of Anon v2 over the intercom, and if they were a real Shiba puppy, it was clear their ears would be flattened down against their head. They were visibly terrified.
It happened almost too fast to register at first. In a span of mere seconds Shiba had gone from hastily punching in wrong names and talents, to being dragged through the hallways to their impending punishment. They reached out pitifully for their best friend, shrieking and writhing as the metal clamps of doom hauled them away.
Anyone who didn't see Shiba's body being jerked around in a ragdoll-like fashion towards the cinema would hear the announcement that followed, and know what was to come.
"Looks like Shiba has entered three wrong names and talents into the Pandoora! Everyone come into the cinema to witness their punishment!"
Filled with a new sense of dread, everyone slowly begins to file into the cinema. It was only a matter of time before someone entered in three wrong names, although many still saw this as an unexpected, and horribly unwanted occurrence.
Shiba was nowhere to be seen. The atmosphere in the cinema grew tense, but before anyone could speak up, Anon v2's familiar smirk was made visible on screen.
"Tsk tsk. Despite all these warnings you lot still can't get it through your thick skulls. Three strikes and you're out, got it? Maybe a little demonstration will make everything clearer~"
With a short flash of static, the image on screen changes to show a trembling Shiba, standing alone on what appears to be some sort of stage. The rest of the room is fairly dim, besides the spotlight illuminating the student in question.
Anon's voice can still be heard through the monitor,
"Bad dog! Let's do something that'll teach our little rule breaker a lesson, huh? Something that will keep you from being naughty ever again~"
A harsh giggle,
"How about a makeover? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
A startling whirr causes Shiba to jump, and numerous mechanical tendrils begin slinking towards them, clamps ablaze. Shiba cowers, letting out a few distressed cries.
The clamps all appear to be holding different objects- scissors, needles, some sort of bottle?... as they finally enclose on Shiba, they begin to get to work.
The tendrils work fast, but everything is still visible: Shiba is twisted and spun as their hair is chopped and dyed, and their clothes are ripped and mangled. Shiba's expression appears to be a look of horror as their image is decimated before the class.
After a few minutes, the tendrils pull back, and Shiba collapses on the stage. The colorful, exuberant Shiba is replaced with a dull, tattered shell. They don't make a sound.
The monitor shuts off and Shiba is thrust out into the opening, slowly pulling themself to their knees and running quivering fingers through their new brown, straw-like hair.
"That's what you get! Anyone else wanna have a go at the Pandoora now? Heheh!"
AnoN v2.0 shuts themselves off, leaving the silent cinema, only broken by the cries of the once flashy and eccentric Shiba, now in rags and tatters.
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"And Ahead Of The Halt On All Thinking, The Rats Have Died" | Asclepius | Ch.3 | Execution Reaction
And so yet another trial had concluded. The murder of Blade- Nobu Yamamoto, SHSL Street Fighter, whose death, while a tragedy, hadn’t hurt the man much, for after all he didn't know the guy well- and of Trois- Azami Otomachi, SHSL Competitive Napper, a death that had shook him somewhat more, as he knew that she was a nice girl, and that she'd been a friend of Medusa's. At the thought of the girl- of how he would never see her again now, of how she was truly and entirely gone- he cringed a little, laying on his room's bed as he was. He needed a second to rest and reflect on everything, after all. Because if that had been shocking and sad, what had happened later was even worse. Because losing someone you love, or even just a person you know was good- even if that was bad, at least they still lived on in your memory as good people, and grief brought a smile as you remembered them. However, that day at the trial, something else entirely had happened. At first he hadn't wanted to believe it. He had stayed silent, listening but not intervening as he entertained the possibility. But it was when he heard Phantom confess to the murder, that it happened. He had respected him, even envied him somewhat, but... He had betrayed their trust. His trust. No, worse. Seraphina's trust. The girl who had loved the both... It is funny how it always came back to her. But it did. The girl who had always supported them, who had always been so nice to them... Who, surely, wouldn't have wanted either of them to take another life, who would've despised the act. And even so, Phantom had decided to. Even if he explained himself, claiming he had been attacked, even so, Asclepius couldn’t find it in himself to forgive him. He wanted to. He wanted to, as he had even looked up to him. But now that he had, in the man's eyes, betrayed his trust so, now all that was broken. The man he had admired and wanted to be friends with was now nothing more than a killer to him, and one that probably wouldn't have had to kill, and that perhaps could have avoided another death, but he didn't know that. And even if Asclepius had forgiven the person who killed Medusa, he couldn’t feel the same towards Phantom now. They had both loved her, and yet Phantom had insulted- it was an insult, that was the only possible definition- her memory by murdering someone, and trying to mislead the trial. In doing that, showing a weakness he couldn’t believe he had: the weakness to not only kill someone even after seeing the person he loved be killed, but also to make an attempt to hide it. Asclepius shook his head, as he thought. He had asked him what Seraphina would have thought of him when they met, but... Those two probably would go to very different places.
[tw: choking, general stabby times, references to face and eye trauma, mild gore]
What do you see when you look in the mirror? “Myself, of course,” you reply. But what is yourself? Strictly speaking, when you look in a mirror, you only see a face that you recognize as your own, or perhaps you see someone or something else entirely. Maybe you don’t see yourself, even when the rest of you screams that the person looking back at you is, well, you.
When Akito Himemiya wakes up again, his eyes land on the mirror set on the floor in front of him, and he only sees a monster staring back at him
He gets up and backs away. The setting is a very familiar stage - didn’t you all bear witness to Umi Sugimura’s execution on this very stage not one trial ago? As if to confirm your suspicions, a pair of familiar blue ribbons lie discarded on the stage floor, but they’re far from the only implements that seem eerily familiar. Next to it is the large cheval mirror that captures both your attention and that of his own, and on the ground is a medley of past imperfections: the skull hammer that killed Medusa, a single crystal ball that looks like it’s about to break, and a knife you could have sworn was back in the kitchen where it belonged, its blade dulled by the crate and the weight of the life it stole. Adorning the back of the theater are a wide selection of masks, some pristine, some bloody, all etched in ghostly smiles as they stare down upon the Maskmaker. You recognize some of them as your own, and even as your eyes linger on the masks of the dead, their own eyes open.
It is in horror that Akito realizes just what his punishment will entail, as the five phantoms melt out of the shadows, each one wearing the mask that once hid who they were in life, and now represented what was left of them in death. Speaking of Death, the large, muscle-bound man is the first one of the apparitions to materialize fully, one eye brown and the other bloodied pink. Akito only has a moment to step back in shock before the large man you previously knew as Ricardio Sánchez barrels towards the blonde. In one swift motion his hand grabs the Maskmaker by the neck, hoisting him up in the air while simultaneously choking the life out of him, but it isn’t without resistance. Akito’s legs fight the battle his hands cannot, delivering solid blows to the Spaniard’s punctured chest and arms with solid ‘thuds’ that only perpetuate the haunting melody that echoes about in the background.
“For whatever reason, he put on a mask symbolizing the leading role he yearned for in the past.
And from the next day onwards, the kind boy's smile didn't falter, he loved everyone.”
A lucky strike brings the heel of Akito’s boot across the skull mask, and as it breaks so does the apparition behind it. But as Death disappears with a bloodcurdling yell, a knife breaks through the fragments of dissipating shadow. Another horseman has come for the Maskmaker, and as War continues pressing the advantage, it is all the blonde can do to dodge their strikes. Hasami Serizawa may have died defenseless and pitiful, but it is clear they were anything but.
“Laugh and sneer, you prisoners, at the good fortune that came to those who smiled, and its messengers too. Slander and criticize, and then, I won't need anyone else.”
But the will to live proves stronger as Akito wrests the knife away. He adds one more wound to Hatsami’s embittered body by slicing it across their face, severing their mask in two. As they fade away into the shadows, the pattern continues when the Maskmaker has to duck in order to avoid the thrown crystal ball, which shatters against the far wall. Spectre, Kyou Hamasaki, the ex-Super High School Level Medium, holds a symbol of her profession in each hand, all too ready to let the glass disfigure more of Phantom’s already-blemished face - and kill him in the process, why not.
“Perhaps if I dizzily wait as much as one thousand years, I'll forget how to smile along the way.”
But even as the skull hammer obliterates what’s left of the second skull mask, everyone knows what will come next, and he is no exception. Slowly, he turns around, and there she is, and just like her namesake the sight of Medusa stops Phantom in his tracks. His grip on the hammer tightens ever-so-slightly, and for a moment you think he will continue to swing it, but...he lets go. It falls to the ground as Akito’s legs give way as well, and as he continues to stare at the phantom of what was once Seraphina Nieves, the look on his face conveys what his words will not. This is as far as he will fight; he will not raise a hand against his beloved, not for all the life in the world.
“For whatever reason, he put on a mask symbolizing the leading role he yearned for in the past. And from the next day onwards, the unhappy boy's smile didn't falter, he was even loved by someone.”
And something, someone, somewhere acknowledges this, for the mask of snakes fall even as Medusa, her eyes wide and purple, rushes forwards to embrace him. This gesture is not repeated by the last phantom, and as Princesse picks up the ribbons that she last held not one trial ago, Akito embraces Seraphina back in return. The two don’t move as Umi Sugimura starts to dance, and the ribbons appear to elongate almost magically as they encase the duo in a bind. Round and round the ribbons go, wrapping them up in a bundle of blue and yellow and white, and for a moment everything is perfect.
“Dance, dance, it's a dance number. I act spitefully in disgust and force a smile. Even an inventor at wit's end is tedious, deceiving and instigating.”
As one, the hanging masks explode, taking the back wall with them. Without support, the ceiling of the ruined theater starts to collapse, and as chunks of concrete and wood start to rain from the heavens above. A particularly large piece crushes Princesse beneath its bulk, and as the rest of the theater starts to fall, you watch as one moment, the two star-crossed lovers continue embracing. The next, Seraphina is gone forever, blinking out of existence as Akito opens his eyes. They are filled with a hundred different emotions before they disappear too, out of sight in the collapse.
But AnoN hasn’t dismissed you yet...why?
“I can hear it from far away, choked up tears stained by angry roars. Just stop it everybody...”
The answer is made clear as Akito drags his bloodied, battered body out of the rubble that surrounds him, having escaped a messy death in favour of a painful life. But he isn’t the only thing that has survived the fall of the theater - the cheval mirror stands tall, even as it starts to spin. Even as the Maskmaker continues to pull himself away, his handsome face marred by cuts and bruises that do nothing to mask the ugliness of the right side of his face, what appears to be the last phantom steps out of the mirror.
“Don’t leave me alone...”
It’s Blade and Trois. Or if you prefer, Nobu Yamamoto, Super High School Level Street Fighter and Azami Otomachi, Super High School Level Competitive Sleeper.
The tall man looks terrifying even in death, and as he strides forwards the wounds on his head and chest continue to bleed. In only a few steps, he catches up to Akito, who can only turn his head slightly to look at his victim with a look all too familiar with you by now: resignation. The tired eyed girl only watches
His death comes without any further fanfare as the foot comes down, driving the blonde’s head into the cold, unforgiving floor. The amount of blood spilt makes it clear he won’t be getting back up as Blade and Trois disappears, his revenge complete.
Fuck. God damn it. All sorts of foul words built up in the boy as he stared down at the body of Trois, a widened eye visible through his mask as he clenched his fists. He had previously seen Blade’s body too. Two. Two god damned bodies. What the hell?
Moon turned around and stormed off, angrily punching the wall as he went. He muttered to himself as he moved to the bar, grabbing the nearest bottle he could and prying the top off before chugging down as much as he could handle.
Once the room had blurred, the tears came. Pouring out of the gaps in his mask, he sunk to his knees and sobbed miserably. He hid behind the bar so that nobody would see straight away if they were to enter, gripping the half empty bottle in his hand with a steel like hold. It wasn’t fair. He had spoken to Trois before, and she seemed like an okay gal. A little tired and antisocial, but damn it, she didn’t deserve to die. Not like that.
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Last Night’s Love Affair Is Looking Vulnerable in My Bed || Chapter 3 Body Reveal 2
It had been a decent ammount of time since you all discovered the body of blade, or as you knew him, Nobu Yamamoto, the SHSL Street Fighter. However, something still felt off, as if someone wasn’t there, as you were walking through the halls, wondering this, the intercom crackled to life again, and the nightmare you were thrown into began once again.
Ding Dong Ding Dong! A Body has been Discovered! After a brief period of Investigation, we will hold a class trial!
The sounds of chaos came from down the hall, you all ran there only to find a doorway that most of you swore was not there before, you all rushed into the room...
♫♪♫♪
As the rest of the class rushes in towards the area of commotion, a peaceful body comes into view, pressing her form into the mattress supporting her. A soft, yet pained expression on her face. The bags of permanent exhaustion…
It’s Trois.
The scene of peace and death, permeated by a stink of burnt flesh mixed in with rose air freshener, it contrasted the mood of the room. How ironic, for a girl so motivated by affection to perish in a room literally built for love.
The stars that had glittered and reflected in her eyes once faded entirely, never to view her source of emotional support again. Never to paint on the walls of the empty room again, never to hold the hands of her friends, Never to add more star drawings on her ceilings, never to smile or laugh or cry or worry about her future… It was all gone.
With one hand stretched out to the side and the other curled up beside her face, she remained still. Blood splatters are speckled over the front of her shirt and arms, and her knees are visibly scraped. Well… where to begin on this ending?
Baby I’m Gonna Leave You Drowning, Until You Reach for My Hand || Chapter 3 Body Discovery
You all had woken up, rather peacefully actually. For the first time in a long time, you woke up to nobody trying to bother or pester you, nobody to speak into your ear, you truly were alone.
you shot out of bed, you knew what this meant. It had happened again, somebody couldn’t take the pressure and killed. You knew it to be true, you only had a couple seconds to get out of your room before hearing some shrill screaming, before that cursed tone played throughout the ship.
Ding Dong Ding Dong! A Body has been Discovered! After a brief period of investigation, we will hold a class trial!
Heading for the source of the scream, you made your way to the third floor’s deck...
♫♪♫♪
Drip.
A single drop of water slowly oozes it way down the sides of the pool, as it finds its way back to its source.
As the water slowly melds back in, one could look outward in the direction it was heading. As those who gaze along the small ripples of water, one could tell the pool’s color darkening… Changing… Converting to a filtered pink color.
The source? Haha… None other than the laying corpse of a deceased man… The one known as Blade. His torso was upheld from the water, lower half floating in the wake. His face was one of pain, as his eyes were glazed over, and his whole body having been drenched. A puddle of blood was leaking from underneath his soaked stomach. To those ever vigilant, his forehead’s skin had been cracked, yet no blood lathered his face…
What did this man mean to anyone? He was no one’s friend. He was no one’s post to lean on. He was no one’s lover. All he had ever been was the man you knew who spoke idly to himself, always wishing he could attain peace and harmony for himself. The man who never took a side in an argument. The man many have detested through their encounters.
What was this man to anyone?
Did he die knowing this?
Did he die knowing he was nothing?
Did he die knowing there would be no one to truly miss him?
None of those questions matter now… The motive might have made the dead speak once more… But there was nothing that could conjure the man’s voice back from the grave.
A Painting Says More Than A Thousand Words? | Ch.3 | Post-Motive | Closed | Asclepius + Lenny
Once again, a new motive had been given. Seeing people from your past, ghosts born from memories, friends or foe may them be. Asclepius had, at least that time, been lucky. His personal illusion had turned out to be none other than Seraphina herself, allowing the man to have one more chance to see her, and apologize- even though he knew it wasn't the "real" her, he felt he had to. But those are events that happened at a past, separate time and in another place. In the instance of time known as "the present", Asclepius was aimlessly walking around. He had gone to the third floor, apparently dedicated to entertainment, and had found himself in an art gallery. Many paintings and sculptures were present- even though Asclepius had never been keen on the classical arts, he did find some rather good. He even found himself looking at some of the most refined sculptures, wondering whether Seraphina had made any of those. The only piece he seemed to show ill will against was the model of the cruise ship in the center of the hall. His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, clearly hearable in the silent room. Alerted, he turned around, only to see Lenny, and sigh in relief. Approach the girl with a smile did he, and then greeted her, saying: "Oh, hey there!"
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And yet another word that rhymes with 'die' | Yvonne | Motive Reaction / Open
(cw: very vague reference to a car accident) Y'know, Yvonne had been so caught up in dealing with very recent deaths that she had almost forgotten about other things. Of course, it wasn't that she could remember most of her past, but she digressed. She still had memories of people who had ... just disappeared from her life. Her grandparents (how old were they again?), her cousin (she remembered her mother telling her to not learn to drive after he disappeared), and one of her old teachers she had been very close with (all those doctors visits she mentioned before going away - what had happened?). In Yvonne's past, she had always just assumed these people had abandoned her. It just made sense - they disappeared and no one ever really talked about them except as memories, in hushed whispers away from Yvonne. She didn't really understand until now. Apparitions, that program had called them. Phantoms, and not the manpain-having type. What did Phantom himself tell her when she asked about his alias, again? The dead come back as illusions. She hadn't had time to ask what that meant back then. But, Yvonne knew very well that these couldn't be real. She didn't care how realistic the reflections of her grandparents, cousin, and old teacher seemed. They couldn't even say her real name, whatever it was, how could it be real? She must have just had too much to drink - yeah, that was it! It was fine, they'd go away, they always did. Her drunken mind came to that conclusion (she had been pulled out of the bar by the motive), and so she stepped back and tried to wave the apparitions away - although, to anyone else, it looked like she was waving at nothing. She didn't want to face the apparitions. She didn't want to face the realization these people were dead. "F-fuck you!" she spat at what, to everyone else, was apparent nothingness. "Stop fuckin' with me, you ain't real! Stupid..."
Another day, another time to be alive. Blade had decided to wake up earlier that morning to just walk alongside the new floor. Everything seemed fairly nice compared to the last floor, which he appreciated.
It wasn't until his walk was disturbed by the ever annoying sound of the AI that kept them there. Blade just rolled his eyes as ANoN said to meet up at the usual spot.
"Let's see what it is today... Poison? Fire?" He groaned as he made his way towards the cinema.
Once there, Blade just crossed his arms, as per usual. A scowl lingered on his face, as like the rest of them, he wasn't happy to hear another bull crap motive had come along.
He listened to the AI's words with skepticism. Although it was hidden by his mask, he raised an eyebrow and gave a perplexed look. "Okay, you've said some pretty bullshitty things, but that's just freaking impossible." His tone was harsh and stern. He wasn't playing any games.
"Come on for cryin' out loud! Who'd believe-" His sentence got cut short when he saw to the side of him...
"What the hell...?" Blade mumbled. There is no way that thing wasn't lying. This couldn't be real. Ghosts don't exist after all, so why...?
Then the voices started. Blade just looked onward in the direction of his ghosts that only he could see. It seemed with each passing second, his face grew more and more with anger.
After a few minutes that felt like an entirety, Blade yelled, "Shut up already!" at the top of his lungs. "None of that matters anymore!"
After the outburst, Blade just shook his head and stomped off towards the new floor once again.
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