#ds2 ch3

“Spicy. Let’s get this thing booted up then.” Onryo acknowledges Bullseye’s choice, and the Wheel starts to hum as it warms up, the lights beginning to flicker on while all of you react and discuss.

And several minutes that probably feel much longer than they are later, Onryo raps their cane sharply against the side of the Wheel for attention.

“As much fun as all this is to listen to, we should probably finish up here. Cue, I think you know what to do.” They step back, making a vague little waving gesture towards the wheel.

Bullseye wants to cry. He wants to scream, honestly, but a room full of people out for his blood (on various stages of metaphorical to literal) isn’t safe. There’s not really anywhere safe to express emotions like that.

“Can I at least…?” He holds his hand out towards Cue. He’s not worthy, in any way, to walk the person he loves most to the pain he’s sentenced her to, but he’s selfish. It’s a last hope of comfort.

She can’t help the small huff that escapes her. Her hand was already reaching for his before he’d finished speaking. “Y’think that after all o’ this, I’d say no?” She says as she twines her fingers in his. “I told y’b’fore, y’ain’t gettin’ rid o’ m’s’easy.” Cue squeezes once, then lets herself be escorted to her fate.

She grabs the edge of the wheel and pulls down, sending it spinning.

Cue stands there quietly while the wheel turns and turns, just watching the colors at the top flash. What would it land on? What would her punishment for deceiving everyone and defying her own code be? There were so many horrible potentials that each of those colors could bring. She holds her breath as the wheel slows down, each lingering flash sending another jolt of fear through her.

All too soon, the Wheel coasts to a stop, the wedge that catches at the top lighting up… Magenta. And the silhouetted symbol on it is clearly a stylized eye.

“Magenta. Eye.” The mechanical voice of the wheel reads out in confirmation.

The shining pink light makes her heart leap in her chest. Yet, the symbol is one that she recognizes. “Eye fer an’ eye, huh?” She mutters to herself. “S’fittin’, all things considered…” It could be worse. It could be far, far worse. And it wasn’t like she could refuse--

“No,” Bullseye protests weakly, his voice barely a whimper. The relief that it’s not white is huge, but an eye… he knows that’s one of the worst results he could think of. And yet.

“I know you won’t, I know, but please, Cue, I’m begging you, you shouldn’t have to do this. You’ve done so much, too much, for me. Please, please, please don’t take a punishment, too. None of this was your fault, I should have just owned up to everything, framed someone else, please just let them do it to me, I’ll only be getting what I’m owed. A fraction of it.”

No, he won’t cry. He can’t, not now, not like this.

A sad smile tugs at her lips as she shakes her head. “This was the price fer m’help, remember?” She replies quietly. More than anything, she knew what a burden a debt could be for him. She’d make sure it was repaid in full. “An’... S’what I want.”

If this hurt enough, maybe it’d cancel out her guilt. She doesn’t say that, in a way, this is just as much a punishment for him as it is for her. But it was a punishment that she’d weather better than he would, should their roles be reversed, and she knew that.

She glances back to the wheel. “B’sides, this ain’t that bad. S’just an’ eye. Not like I got amazin’ vision t’begin with an’--” She pauses, hearing the robots starting to clank forward. “Wait, should I take m’contacts out fer this?” Judging by the metal appendages grabbing her, it was likely too late for that.

He knew it. Cue is far better than Bullseye will ever be, and they did promise. And he got what he wanted, in the end, although whether he’s glad or not… Well. It’s not something anyone needs to know.

Slowly, he pulls away the medical mask, revealing the redness around his mouth, the imperfection on his otherwise impeccable complexion that he’d been so desperate to hide, even though it had already been seen by everyone. His lips are trembling, and as the robots close in, he clicks his tongue.

“Give us another fucking moment, won’t you?”

Although he’s snappy, it doesn’t seem Bullseye’s willing to push his luck any more today. He squeezes his eyes shut and leans in to give her a swift, but tender kiss. “I love you,” he chokes out, and he is crying now, as he backs away before the robots can force him to do so, to a coward’s safety.

Oh, and she was doing so well. The kiss leaves her shaking, her eyes going glossy with held back tears. “I love y’too, y’big f-fuckin’ idiot.” Cue sputters back as the robots finish yanking her into place.

[CW: Eye Trauma]

The robots at the back of the room are already moving forward to seize hold of Cue and take their places around her. They are indifferent to the heartfelt display of the couple, and matters proceed in the horrific routine that is becoming all too familiar.

Her head is held still by metal hands. Another robot lifts an arm, a small scoop-like blade extending from a finger, moving towards Cue’s left eye. Closer, and closer. It isn’t in slow motion but for the gang leader it may well feel that way. And then the blade sinks in, a single smooth, calculated cut. Another sharp motion, a metal arm swinging around with an open compartment to catch the eye as it falls…

[END CW]

There is screaming, and blood, quite a lot of blood.

And then the robots are picking Cue up fully and rolling out of the room with her, through the panel that opens in the wall to admit them. Frost pivots on her heel as they pass and follows them, moving in to get close to Cue. The panel slides shut again, leaving you all in the Wheel room, Cue’s blood on the floor.

“Well, that was an exciting, dramatic little scene.” Onryo says flatly. “I think we’re done here. Good luck making it through the night alive, Hikaru, I don’t think anyone in this room is happy with you at the moment, and your protector is going to be locked in the Infirmary until tomorrow at the earliest.”

They turn and leave through a different panel. The elevator doors slide open at the other side of the room, ready to take you all back to the floors below.

It’s over…

“And that’s all the time we have for today. So let’s tally up our votes, shall we?” Onryo speaks up again, this time standing from their seat and making their way to the center of the room to stand next to the inert Wheel. 

“Here we are, then… there were Ten votes for Operative Cue. One vote for Operative Labrat, One vote for Operative Maestro, and One vote for Operative Paradigm. Finally, Thirteen votes were submitted for Spin. And yes, those numbers are correct. Someone used the 2x Vote Card. And wow, some of you are really gluttons for punishment, aren’t you?”

Onryo pauses for a beat, just long enough for that to start to sink in.

“Too bad you all got it Wrong. Operative Cue is not our killer, I’m afraid. While slitting the throat of a dead body is kind of a dick move, it isn’t murder. So, Operative Bullseye, congratulations. You really put in the work on this one, those days of planning paid off for you, as did your girlfriend deciding to help cover for you even after catching you holding the smoking gun. Or smoking belt, rather. Funny how you convinced everyone that Mitsuzaki-san attacked you first when she wasn’t even willing to hurt you during the struggle for her life. A pacifist to the bitter end.”

“Now, why don’t you tell us who exactly will be spinning in your place? And don’t try to get cold feet now. You can’t choose yourself. Give me a name, or two others will be picked for you. If it’s any consolation, you and Cue pulling off your little gambit actually saved those three idiots who voted for themselves from having to spin. Why don’t you choose one of them, since they wanted it so badly?”

-

Several hours have passed now since the body discovery, and yet only one body info file was ever delivered to your ElectroIDs, which has likely clued most of you in to what others discovered during the course of their investigations - that Bullseye is in fact still among the living. Will he have any information to give regarding his roommate and motive partner’s untimely demise? You may well be about to find out, because your ElectroIDs begin to buzz and beep with the summons to the elevator.

It’s trial time.

Once again you all gather at the elevator, some arriving more slowly than others - the injured are understandably in no rush. Selene arrives in a wheelchair, looking a bit paler than usual even. And yet even with the chair, the elevator is notably less crowded as you all ride up… Nightfall’s absence is a chilling gap among you. It’s even more evident as you disembark in the trial room and make your way to your podiums. Four of them are empty. Four of you gone… and who knows how many of you will be going back down this time.

As usual, Onryo and Frost are positioned at the back of the room with an entourage of robots. The Wheel sits, quiet and foreboding, in the center.

“I shouldn’t have to explain this again. You’ve all had the opportunity to investigate, now’s the time to put whatever you managed to find to use. Present your evidence, discuss your theories, and vote for whoever you decide murdered Yoshika Mitsuzaki. The clock is ticking, so you’d best get started.” Without further ado, Onryo taps their cane sharply on the floor, in the manner of a judge with a gavel. And just like that, you’re all free to begin.

[TRIAL START]

-

It was Bullseye lying in here. Labrat was too overwhelmed over the news of Nightfall's death to process that he was also possibly in danger initially, but finding him here, at the murder scene…

That wasn't the first time this happened! He was just passed out again, that made sense. With a sigh of relief, he walked over to the other man and lightly nudged him, hoping he'd at least stir a little. He'd carry Bullseye out soon.

"H-hey….you're alright...don't worry Bullseye. Th-the blood...it's scary...and this isn't good...b-but I'm here. Cue is too...this time"

Something didn't seem right here; he couldn't pinpoint what was different from the last time this happened, aside from the rash, but that uneasy feeling quickly returned. No, he couldn't lose his best friend, one of his friends had already died in this bathroom. Bullseye was just passed out...he had to be...

It was best to check his pulse, just to be safe. Labrat spent a good minute or two in the bathroom checking up on Bullseye, and when he finally did come out, he decided to go right up to Cue, finding a way to break the news

[ Victim Name ] Yoshika Mitsuzaki | Operative Nightfall [ Body Location ] Locker Room - Yellow Level [ Time of Death ] 10:29AM (Day 4 of Motive) [ Time of Discovery ] 10:40AM (Day 4 of Motive) [ Cause of Death ] Asphyxiation [ Body Discovered By ] Cue, Paradigm, Labrat

---------------

Shortly after Nightfall’s body is discovered, everyone’s ElectroIDs beep and buzz with the arrival of a new file, containing a photo and some basic information regarding the murder.

There’s also a pop-up window instructing everyone to gather at Locker Room 1 on Yellow Level to begin investigations!

--

Cue’s head swivelled back and forth as she ran through the halls. She was alone, something that had become more and more unusual as the motive had continued. And considering her almost breakneck pace and the frantic glances she gave open doors, it wasn’t for a pleasant reason.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of movement, a familiar swish of kimono sleeve. The heels of her cowboy boots skidded across the floor as she ground them in to a halt. “Para!” She cried out, catching herself on the edge of the door frame with one hand in an attempt to steady herself. “I can’t-- Fuck!” She swore, stumbling over her words. “I can’t find Rack anywhere, an’ Nightfall s’dead-- Locker room, downstairs-- Help?”

Paradigm was not letting Labrat out of her sight. Heck, she's even been sleeping in that unfortunately empty bed that used to belong to Lyric, that should tell you something about how personal she's treating being given Rat Mom status, because dear god, Labrat is Precious and he needs it. She's frowning when she hears her name, looking back over her shoulder to see Cue.

"Bullseye-- Nightfall's dead?" She cottons onto the most urgent point of that, followed by, "Well, they were partners, right? So-- they can't be that far away from each other. We both know how he is about blood, Cueball, so it's likely he's passed out in some inconvenient place."

The polyglot has a grim tone to her voice, glancing Way Up at her own partner. "Labrat. You don't have to interact if you don't want to, but you're sticking with me." She informs him, not giving him much of a choice. She slides out of her geta, bending down to pick them up, leaving her in just tabi on her feet. "Let's move."

With that, Paradigm takes off at speed, surprisingly quick for being as encumbered as she is.

Labrat was beginning to feel comfortable with the motive. Initially, he was scared that things would be awkward between him and Paradigm but she was actually really nice! It took a little thinking, sure, but he couldn't see too many downsides to the motive, especially if it kept him from isolating himself

It was this positive outlook on everything that made Cue's news even more devastating. All he could do at first was approach her and put a hand on her shoulder, trying his best to help the panicked girl while processing what happened for himself. He liked Nightfall a lot; maybe there was a glimmer of hope Cue was just wrong

"It...It's alright Para….I can handle it...I-I think….Let's go."

Without so much as another word from her, Cue took off running after the polyglot. While Paradigm might be quick, the gang leader overtakes her just as they reach the elevator. She spams the button for the yellow level, waiting impatiently for the metal box to descend.

The moment it dings to a stop, she’s off like a shot, running straight for Locker Room 1 with the other pair in tow.

Elevator is full of Paradigm wheezing. She doesn't run a lot in full kimono. Hell, she doesn't run a lot in general. So she takes a chance to regain her breath, but she and Labrat quickly follow after Cue to the locker room. Where they see…

[CW: Throat/Neck Trauma, Blood, Drawn Gore]

Labrat emerges from his newly created blanket fort after hearing the announcement, not noticing the new accessory until Onryo spoke about it

“H-half an hour….makeup…takes longer than that…” he mumbled, peering at the robot near him. It was times like this an empty bed was actually a slightly okay thing, cause he needed to drag his new partner in here pretty soon. For now though, Labrat continued to listen, shaking at the idea of another murder happening here. That couldn’t happen, the first one already took enough out of him. He couldn’t lose anymore friends…

The robot was still here. Labrat glanced at it, then wiped his tears, only to find that more quickly followed.

Suffering Games have become alarmingly routine, and as such, Bullseye’s developed his own little routine to go with them. For anything other than a yellow, he turns away, closes his eyes, and covers his ears. He privately wonders what others’ reactions would be if similar misfortune befell him. Would they look on in horror, or is the constant gore beginning to lose its impact? Or would they perhaps take some satisfaction in seeing him in a situation he can’t weasel his way out of?

…No. Hypotheticals. Don’t think about them. The Yellow that is doled out this round - Labrat’s - catches his attention. It’s not ideal, but, there’s something…

“You’re saying that the robot’s got connection to the internet, then?” he asks, voice even in tone despite its curiosity. “You’re completely fine with information being given to the outside world?” He looks across at Labrat and something slightly more amused than a smirk crosses his face. “…Just carry around a big sign with ‘Help, we’ve been kidnapped!’ and the details of this ‘game’ on. I wonder if they’d publish those.”

Selene’s result is something rather different, though. Again, turn away. Eyes closed, ears covered. Some sound still makes it past, but what else can he do? Hum? That’s just inappropriate. Bullseye has some measure of propriety.

He stays that way until he hears Onryo’s muffled instructions for their departure. His face is set calmly as they depart. Any thoughts about what Selene could be going through - if he’s thinking about that at all - aren’t at all readable.

-

Waking up in his own room is not reassuring for Bullseye. Partially because he doesn’t remember falling asleep, and he knows he’s sleeping in Cue’s room anyway right now, and partially because that means…

His gaze snaps sharply across to see that Nightfall is indeed there too. Hh. Great. This is… fantastic, sure. Only the beeping of the ElectroID stops him from hotfooting it out.

08:00 each morning? Seriously? He’s expected to be awake to do anything then? What is this, school?

Wait, the distance reduces?

…Physical contact?

He grimaces. “I can only assume whoever came up with this motive forgot that us mere humans need to do things like shower, and go to the toilet. …Ugh.”

Of course that would be Bullseye’s main concern. He looks incredibly disgruntled. It might be pushing the line of discomfort, even.