colorfuldreamsmkg

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Karaoke Nite | Chapter 3 Norm Event

Early in the afternoon on Day 3, a series of messages in the group chat appear, but not before a bit of a struggle as the messenger appears to try a universal ping but to no avail.

:Ozzy: @everyone 

:Ozzy: fuck i don’t have perms for that

:Ozzy: @all

:Ozzy: @here

:Ozzy: fuck it 

:Ozzy: @ whoever’s reading this listen up

:Ozzy: Karaoke Nite at the Bar SEKAI tonight

:Ozzy: I’ll pick everyone up for it in the bunker at like 6 or so

:Ozzy: B there or b square :ozzy_groovy:

Huh, a karaoke night? Wouldn’t that be better suited for being hosted in the karaoke room? Seems like Ozzy doesn’t think so as by the time 6:00 pm rolls around, he’s in the bunker as promised with his phone in hand, ready to head out to the Bar SEKAI. As soon as everyone shows up, he grins and holds his free hand out. “Aight, here we go, let’s baby chain ‘dis shit, folks.” Once everyone’s holding onto said baby chain, Ozzy plays his Untitled song on his phone, whisking the group away into the inside of the Virgin Thorn. 

Ah, a bar! The sign denotes this one as being named Virgin Thorn, through its only occasionally flickering neon sign, though there’s a few other notices on the outside as well. And once inside… it actually seems to be a much better quality bar than the outside might imply, with an abundance of inner decor that gives both a strong music and floral-punk theme to the place. There’s some rock music playing over some speakers in the background to set the mood, though there’s also a sizable stage in the corner that’s currently unused for presumable live performances. The bar counter here has plenty of seats open and stock ready, as well as a chalkboard next to it that notes the specialty drinks being served. There’s a door in in the back that seems to lead to some other small rooms behind, too.

The bar for the most part looks the same as it normally does, though there have been some additional things set up alongside the usual decoration. Red solo cups filled with soda are arranged in triangular formations with are spread across a few of the tables, forming spots for games of (non-alcoholic) beer pong. Multiple flights of premade mocktails from the menu are present on the bar countertop for anyone to take, as well as a mini fridge filled with various slightly dented soda cans off to the side. Various snacks from the store have been set up on the counter next to the mocktails, including several large bags of Lays chips in various flavors, a bag of pretzels, a bag of tortilla chips with a bowl of guacamole on the side, a pack of Oreos, a container of Twizzlers, and a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

The stage seems to be the focal point of the night, however. A spotlight shines down on a single microphone stand on the stage, though a few others can be seen off to the side that look ready to be used if needed with all of them and the one under the spotlight being connected to the speakers. At a table next to the stage, Ozzy’s laptop is open, though whatever’s on his laptop screen can’t be seen by the crowd. 

Next to the laptop is his phone which has been both plugged into the speakers and put inside one of the DIY projectors from On the Rocks’s previous performance in order to project what’s on the screen onto the wall next to the stage, with what’s currently on display being the YouTube homepage of someone who clearly watches a lot of Vtubers and gameplay videos based on the recommended feed. Additionally, three chairs have been set close to the front of the stage and have paper stuck on them marking them as reserved.

As the group gets a good look at the party space, Ozzy shrugs and slips his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know we got a straight up karaoke room back in ‘da real world, but ‘dat shit’s all Evil Miku themed and I’m pretty sure we’ve had enough ‘a ‘dat bitch’s shit, yeah? So I figured we outta have a karaoke night ‘dat’s more our style!” He claps his hands together with a grin. “Got a whole game set up for it and everythin’! But yeah, feel free ‘ta get settled in, have some snacks, get a drink, whateves. Just gotta finish settin’ up ova’ ‘ere. Let’s fuckin’ party, dudes!”

Shooting finger guns at the group with a hoot and a holler, Ozzy then heads over to hunker behind his laptop, looking over something intently on the screen as the party kicks off. Whatever could this game he mentioned be about?

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Lucid Dreaming - BoB Ch3 Theme

April 17th, 2:45 PM. Most people had finished up their investigations at that point and were winding down, though those of you who had started later might have been interrupted by the notification to your phones.

🎵 Ok everyone! I hope you’ve had some good time to rest and think this time you’ve had off. However, now is the time to hear the Battle of the Bands theme! Come and see me in the Computer Lab within the next 15 minutes! So excited to see you!

Less than 24 hours since the latest death was hardly enough time to process anything, especially with how visceral the last death had been. Hitome’s almost seemed kind in comparison. Not to mention, the kind of death that poor Takuma had gone through. Who knew how long he’d been suffering before his end, given neither Miku nor Johann had answered many questions.

Still, the groups dispersed, heading towards the largest room on the new floor, the computer lab. Reconvening, surrounded by light-up screens in every which direction. Some took seats while some stood in preparation for the least stressful of these mandatory meet-ups she set up. At least these weren’t the results. The unkind judgements and critiques she often created.

The digital clock within the room flickered on, as Miku Prime glanced down among the crowd, clasping her hands together with a toothy grin. She seemed plenty pleased with the turnout, clearing her throat to speak.

“Good afternoon, everyone!! It’s wonderful you all showed up. The perfect attendance you’ve all had… I’m so proud of you! Try to not let everything happening lately keep you too down, ok? You have so much ahead of you, and so many friends to make! So let’s get started on talking about your next battle, ok? I have something very interesting for you this time!”

Interesting good or interesting bad? It could be hard to tell with this woman, who was applauding in delight. With another breath, she continued.

“This time… You will be performing two songs… separated into two groups per band! Each group must contain at least ONE member standing in this room, but the exact number of virtual singers separated into those teams is up to you. So for example… Those of you with three living band members, one of your band’s groups should have two of you, and the other should have one!” 

“Each of your miniature groups will perform one song for us within your own SEKAI, and this time, we would like every living member of your band to perform on the stage in some way. That can be dancing, or just sitting down and singing or playing something for the few of you who’re struggling health-wise. Not to worry, I won’t be grading your current physical capacity against you! For the one group with four people left, you can split two and two or three and one if you want to. But for everyone… choose whichever composition of virtual singers you want in each group, ok? I WILL grade based on how you choose to split off and how you round out and balance your respective skills, and you can’t have any member be in more than one direct performance.”

Oh dear… So literally spitting you into factions amongst yourselves. Wouldn’t this cause more division than it would bonding? What an odd change in motivations compared to her past proposals.

“Just because your groupmates can’t be in more than one performance doesn’t mean they can’t HELP with the other ones, though! Let’s say you only have one costumer in your group, right? That costumer is MORE than welcome to design and make the costumes for both performances, as different or as similar as you would like! Same goes for set design, composing, choreography, and pre-recorded tracks. All pre-performance tasks can be shared amongst you, so you can still bond through that! As long as the final performances are done separately.”

Oh, alright, so that was where is fell back in line with her usual emphasis on collaboration and making friends. As many had noted, however, it was difficult to want to play nice with everyone when you had some kind of archfae watching your every movement and encouraging it to happen.

“As for the songs you will be performing… As you have two songs to perform, I would like one of them to be a complete original in its composition! You can perform a traditional pop song OR an instrumental only, as long as some element of it is live, be it playing an instrument, dancing, or singing. The more of it that’s live, the better! For your SECOND song, however, you have free choice! Go for an original, a cover, a rearrangement… whatever you like! It doesn’t have to be a cover of a virtual singer song this time either, if you’d rather branch out. Pick something that represents the theme and connects with you!”

An… original? Many of you had little to no experience in composing, so that posed a rather unique challenge in comparison to the past, but it more than a little bit left some units at a disadvantage compared to others.

“Oooh, but you must be wondering what the MOST important part of all of this is: The theme!! Wait for it…. Prrrrrrr…”

She imitated the sound of a snare drum roll to build anticipation.

“Da-daaaaa~ Dreams! Sleep dreams, goal dreams, your own dreams, or the dreams of others! What do you think? That might be open-ended enough for you, right? There’s SO many ways you can interpret this, so I’m excited to see what you have to say!”

Oh, thankfully that should be easy enough. Not quite as easy as ‘love songs,’ sure, but there were still a lot of things to opt for, especially with an original and a more open-ended second song.

“Get to discussing! I’d love to see what you come up with. That’s all from me, if you have any extra questions, you can ask them in the group chat. So long, friends!”

Miku’s visage disappeared from the clock, leaving it showing the time and nothing else behind. So much to do, so little time, huh?

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Alone at the Edge of the Universe | Sonny Post-Trial ???

Once the trial came to a close, without missing a beat, Sonny made a quick exit and hurried off to grab a few cleaning supplies. Some paper towels, mop and bucket, gloves, just about everything she needs. Her hair is thrown back into a ponytail, glasses pushed back, and she’s ready to clean up.

Well… almost. She can’t find a respirator. Is she looking in the wrong place? The one that Johann used is available, but Sonny isn’t sure how safe it actually is considering its use. She considers waiting till she can find something, but it’s just paint thinner. Right? The body being gone means some more of it is gone. She’s not getting covered in it either, no, so…

…’what’s the worst that can happen?’, says the unkind part of her brain.

Rolling up her sleeves, she busts into the performance hall and gets to work. She’d forgotten just how strong the stench was. Was it really that bad before? She’s coughing, sure, but she’ll be out before it’s too bad. Just incentive to work harder.

(CW: ACCIDENTAL SELF HARM, MINOR GORE)

And then the thinner is dry in some places, so Sonny is getting on her knees to clean and— *shit*, those were her favorite clothes, weren’t they? That doesn’t matter. She doesn’t feel a thing when her clothes are discolored, or when she occasionally gets too careless and gets thinner on her skin. Her arms, her legs, they form small burn marks up and down as she scrubs and mops and cleans, but it’s really fine!

And then the coughing, the wheezing, she’s suddenly bent over and hacking her lungs up, but that’s no excuse. No, she’s a tough girl. She can handle a little pain. She pushes it aside, 

mopping,

scrubbing,

cleaning,

Until her mind feels funny. It’s okay if her body gets beaten up and battered, or if her clothes are messed with, because what good is that to the world? Her body, that ‘ugly thing’ as she calls it, doesn’t matter in the long run. It’s the mind that does. The mind that got into MIT, studied engineering, worked a respectable job. The mind that made the decisions, kept her afloat, and

then everything feels like it’s spinning. But, it’s also light? And the lights, speaking of, they’re far too bright. And the noise, Lord, it’s so loud and yet it’s silent all at once. Her hair feels too heavy, too light, and she’s reaching to tug on it and the pain she feels is both not enough and oh-so-painful. Panting, coughing, wheezing, the pain is too much for her to steady herself, and she looks to the exit 

and remembers where she is and what happened here. 

Someone died and you’re coughing. Someone was killed and you’re in pain.

Sensitive. Crybaby. Get out. Don’t die.

Grow up.

Panicked, she scrambles towards the door on all fours, ignoring how her hands now burn without gloves and how she continues to slip in the puddles of thinner. Once outside, she wants to cry, she wants to yell, but all she can do is lean against the wall limply and cough as her lungs and skin burn up and her mind continues to play tricks.

Where is everyone else? Was she alone? She can’t remember anything as she then falls to her side, slumping over and coughing up more and more. And maybe if she keeps coughing, it’ll get the inebriation out of her system, ignoring how her lungs scream in pain. She’s locked in place, yet she feels like she’s spinning. She’s between the real world and another place, beyond SEKAIs, and her body doesn’t feel like her own. She’s removed from it and yet trapped inside, breathing turning shallower and shallower as she loses her grip.

This episode, no, this tantrum was long overdue. Because that's all this is, she thinks, just a dumb tantrum. She passed the point of no return even before coming here, and it’s all finally caught up to her.

And she doesn’t know if those that find her will help or hurt her.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Reversed Judgment | Witch | Execution Reaction

Witch suddenly found herself back at her podium, confused and disoriented. In a matter of seconds she understood what was happening: Johann was about to die, and she was required to witness the event. All walking away had done was kept her from saying goodbye to her doomed friend. But maybe she could still say something, before—

It all happened so fast. Without any time to react, Johann sank into the water, and Kanji was left holding…

part of Johann’s arm.

Before she could process what this meant, the screen above lights up with a new image. Witch looks up to the screen reflexively, but once she realizes what’s happening she immediately squeezes her eyes shut. She doesn’t want to look. She doesn’t want to watch. She doesn’t want to see.

But she can still hear. The shrill whine of a saw, the nauseating squelch of spinning metal against flesh and bone, the dull thud of something falling away… she pulls her hat down and presses the brim against her ears with her hands. Anything to make the horrible noises stop. It’s not enough. Nothing would be enough to drown this out. Beneath the cacophony she hears Johann’s voice for one last time, begging for Miku to stop. His voice cuts out mid-sentence, and then….

…Witch doesn’t dare move or make a sound. It’s not actually over. She’s sure there will be more. And more does come: Miku’s voice, telling them all… something. It’s hard to process what’s being said with the noise of Johann’s execution still reverberating in her head. Something about trust? Then Ozzy’s voice cuts in, loud and furious. It’s the first sound that Witch actually welcomes, because someone has to say something. Someone has to make it clear that this isn’t right—

The world shifts around her. Even with her eyes closed and her hands held rigidly against her head, Witch can tell she’s back in the bunker. It’s over. For now. For a few days.

It won’t be enough.

Haltingly, she lowers a trembling hand from the side of her head and reaches into her pocket to retrieve her phone. Her hand brushes against something plastic and hard— Miku’s gift— but she pays it little mind. Witch opens an eye, taps on her phone a few times, and returns to the one and only place she feels safe: her cottage in her SEKAI.

Safe and alone, Witch crumples to the floor face down. There were tears on her face before, she could feel them, but only now does she let herself really feel them. She sobs, loudly and intensely, in a way she hasn’t in several years, and she wishes she hadn’t run away. She wishes she had stayed. She wishes she knew why this had to happen, she wishes she could have been brave enough to talk to Johann, she wishes she had tried to help him avoid his fate, she wishes she had joined Ozzy in defiance...

Her eyes drift to the spot under her bed, where a jar full of honey and other ingredients lay. The escape spell. The one Johann had helped her charge. The one that was supposed to save them all. The one that did nothing.

…above all else, she wishes…

…that magic was real.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Scapegoat | Erika Singer | Execution Reaction

As the remaining minutes tick down to the moment of execution, Erika looks down at their podium. They said their piece, and have nothing more to say to Johann. Anyone else can help him with the payment for his last request. She doesn't want to so much as acknowledge it. Instead she just focuses on keeping that sick, molten feeling in her core from being noticed again. She's not allowed to be angry in public. They just have to stay quiet another ten minutes.

Five.

Two.

Less than one-

And then Johann is gone, and everyone present is forced to see another bloody spectacle. She isn't sure what she expected really, if it would be something similar to Hitome's dramatic performance of a death, or--

Oh.

CW: Emetophobia mention, dismemberment mention

For a moment, Erika's fury is nearly forgotten, as they have to bring a hand to their mouth, that molten anger feeling in their stomach now replaced with proper nausea by the display. She very nearly fails to keep her food down, posture sagging a bit as her knees nearly buckle. It would've been one thing had he died and then was taken apart, but to force him to live through it? It's awful, especially as he begs to live, begs for her to stop. Erika's eyes shut tight at the final moments, as if they could just ignore it.

It's like they said. No matter how angry they were at Johann in the moment, he didn't deserve what Miku did to him.

Eventually it's over, and they're left back in the real world. She should clean, but.... She just goes and sits on one of the beds in the bunker, stomach still nauseous, forehead against one hand as she stares at the floor.

She saved him. She saved him, and he killed Takuma. They didn't think he could be involved at the time, and just did what they thought was right. Hasn't the world taught her by now that she will only be punished for doing that? Why did they think it'd be okay?

What is this place doing to her?

Why does she have to feel hope, just to have it dashed again?

She doesn't know what to do with hope.

...

They certainly know what to do with anger, though. Not here. Not in front of people. But it's a familiar kind of hurt to wrap themselves in. 

Erika Singer is a survivor. They have to be. Even if that means their insides stay hot and molten while they live through the things this place puts them through.

They made a promise to live.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Pitter-Patter | Ozzy Driscoll | Execution Reaction | RE: Cecilie

CW: Mentions of dismemberment, gore, and suicide

From the moment he sees Johann strapped to an operating table, Ozzy turns around and slumps to the floor with his back against his podium, unable to watch. Jesus, he knew Miku Prime was a sick and twisted individual, but to go so far as to dismember someone while they were still alive? Sure, in a way, she was just doing what Johann wanted. His body would be able to be sent to Maria this way. But fucking hell, did it really have to be in pieces? 

His stomach churns uncomfortably at the horrid soundscape that is the execution, the whirring of the saw, the thunk of limbs falling into coolers, the pleas for mercy from the one under the blade. Fury mixes with the shock and terror in Ozzy's guts. That man really had the nerve to beg for his life like that after so cruelly taking away Takuma's and then attempting to take his own?! God, what a fucking hypocrite. He really did deserve this death, as cruel and unusual as it is. That doesn't mean Ozzy wants to be witness to it, though.

But clearly not everyone did as he had done and averted their gaze. Another thunk hits his ears, this time one much closer to him. He looks over to his left, eyes widening as he sees Cecilie fall to the floor. He moves without thinking, rapidly crawling over behind her podium and wrapping his arms around her to pull her up so that her head is laying on his lap rather than on the ground. God, he hopes she didn't hit her head too hard. How could he be so careless to not have held onto her sooner?

At Miku Prime's sly concluding comments to the group, Ozzy scowls, turning and flipping her the bird with one free hand while holding Cecilie closer with the other, forming a barrier between Miku Prime and Cecilie with his body. "Oh, fuck you, ya connivin' bitch!! It's cause of yer fuckin' game 'dat we can't trust-" Aaand in a flash of light he's back in the real world in the laundry room, arms empty and the splatter of blood on the washing machine looming over where he sits on the floor.

He grits his teeth, trembling with rage as his hands clench into fists. "Son of a fuckin'- AGHH!!! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!" He lets out a scream of frustration as his knuckles meet the floor. He's mad. He's so fucking mad. But there's more important things to worry about right now. Namely, the safety of the blue-haired goddess he's been separated from.

Scrambling to his feet, Ozzy takes off like a bullet, frantically running around the first floor until he spots Cecilie in the kitchen. As soon as he finds her, he rushes to her side, slipping off his trenchcoat and wrapping it securely around her already bandaged wound before hoisting her up to carry her piggyback style while he speedwalks to the elevator to get her up to the infirmary.

Ozzy may know next to nothing about first aid, but hopefully he can do a better job of patching her up than María Dolores did. Sure, Bar Miku already treated her, but he's not exactly privy to that yet. All he knows is that he needs Cecilie to be okay. He promised her he wouldn't threaten anyone anymore, and by god will that promise be easier to keep as soon as he's sure she's not about to become another casualty. Lord, give him strength.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

It all Falls- | Cecilie Erdon | Execution Reaction

Blue circles fall through - splashes of triangles. A twisted smile, a half circle pointed up as the eyes sharpen and look about. The chest rises and falls to the sound of a heartbeat, as Cecilie watches on. Unable to look away from this twisted puppet show.

The sound of whirring, more sharp shapes dig in - cutting away rectangles with a sickening sound.

Was she supposed to see something like this? Was this what the world wanted her to see? 

The heartbeat quickens. The chest rises and falls.

And words come out; written out in front of her eyes as she feels as though she could see hurried speech bubbles coming out of Johanns mouth.

"Stop. Please Stop. I don’t-"

He was so complacent even as every shape got morphed into something else, packaged away.

He was so ready to die.

And yet now he pleads?

He was so willing to conform, so willing to do what was right for someone else- yet where did that leave him? Begging in only his last moments. Cecilie’s eyes filled with panic, sinking back down to reality.

They were no longer just shapes, or pencil sketches, she saw it all.

Blood, bone, flesh, viscera- all of it. 

She saw all of it. 

Then the world faded to black. Before the words of Miku Prime sank in, before any of it, she fell.

The events had finally taken her, as Cecilie Erdon lost consciousness. 

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

ADDENDUM - Ch3 Start 2/2

Takuma’s body has been removed, but the blood and mess from his death (and other incidents) in the performance hall and elsewhere remains.

The elevator and stairs now allow access to the THIRD FLOOR!

The first floor has been unlocked once more.

Living characters have received activity reward crystals!

There are 4 days IC before the motive, and roughly two and a half weeks OOC!

It rains from about 11 AM to 3 PM on day 2. The ceiling in the Admin Office leaks.

The store stock has been updated!

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Uncooperative Screws and the Rain - Ch3 Start 1/2

April 16th, 6:03 PM. Horrifying. Horrifying was the best way to describe that entire affair. The details were much more gruesome than the last, and Miku herself had yet another hand in finishing him off personally. It was hardly a comfort knowing that he’d be delivered to his family in such a state, but at least the fact that something was wrong would be communicated to the world at large like it presumably hadn’t just yet.

Thinking on Miku, she raised herself up from the waters once more, arriving perfectly dry as if the puddles had not touched her at all. Her eyes fluttered open, and she flashed a shark-toothed grin, fresh from the carnage without a singular bloodstain harming her outfit. She looked unnaturally perfect, not a hair out of place.

“Well! Our business here is done now. Once again, you’ve done an excellent job at employing logic to solve this mystery! I’m so proud of you all. In fact, I’ll be rewarding you once again. When you leave, I’ll be granting you more crystals based on how much effort you’ve put into making friends, just like last time, and tomorrow morning… I’ll be opening another floor for you to explore!”

At times, exploration could feel like WORK, what with all the puzzles and information to process. But information was often too vital to pass up. There were maybe 12 hours before then to get food, clean up, and rest before any business needed to be taken care of, at least.

Miku opened her mouth once more, displaying her sharp teeth as she continued to address the group as a whole. It sent a shiver down your spines.

“I'll give you the rest of the night off to relax, and we can consider tomorrow morning the first day of your four days. We can reconvene tomorrow afternoon, also, so I can tell you ALLL about the next Battle of the Bands, ok? I think you’ll like how much freedom this next one will give you. Also, just know that I’ve really been thinking about all the suggestions everyone’s given me! I appreciate the feedback, and I hope this next round of murder is more pleasant for everyone, ok?”

“But you know… if you all trusted each other a little more, only ONE person would have died this case, instead of two. Or at least, if Takuma had~ Fascinating that people’s first instinct when seeing someone do something a little unusual is to attack first, isn’t it? Be careful about how you react to others, or you could end up dead, too! That’s all I have to tell you for now, so… You can leave now!”

With a wave of her hand goodbye, a bright light filled your vision, triangular particles floating this way and that, until you found yourselves back in the irl room you’d been in prior. Those who had previously been in the OtR SEKAI were in irl, as well.

All of it left a bitter taste in your mouth. The case. The loss of two lives. Miku’s laissez-faire attitude about it all. There was still quite a bit of time left until bedtime, best use it wisely.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Self-Rejection || Chapter 2 Execution

More expressions of disappointment, more offers to take care of his sister. (Who knew all he had to do to get help was kill somebody? ha.) Johann could only nod along, the tightness in his throat refusing to ease. Finally he turned to Emile, while stifling the flicker of the same old frustration. What would you like? What do you want? What’s your opinion? Questions wasted on the dead. And Johann had been as good as dead for a while now.

But, as always, the asker deserved an answer, some kind of closure. What would make Emile feel better about it? Or—

A ghost of a grin crossed his face. “Just make a huge mess.” Representative of his usual style, or of himself as a person, or who knew? At least it was an answer.

Questions, condemnations, sympathy, and promises were all exchanged upon the condemnation of Johann’s guilt. 15 minutes flew past, filled to the brim with exchanged words and chatter. 15 minutes was not long enough to say goodbye, and it never would be. Truly you shouldn’t have to say goodbye at all. At least, not for many years. Yet there you were, Miku Prime glancing at the clock on her phone, lips pursed.  She snapped her fingers, and the Witch who had been walking in the now far distance away from the final goodbyes disappeared, only to reappear back at her podium within a few seconds. There would be no time to get back out of range now.

“Time’s up, everyone! It’s time for Johann to move on to reincarnation, yes? I’ve collected 115 crystals from your account to send you home after this. So long, Johann!”

Miku Prime waved as Johann began to slip through the water beneath his feet, no longer standing atop it solidly. Johann, still making a few last-second swipes on his phone, jolted in panic and tossed it in Swan’s direction. Even Kanji’s tightening hug could only keep Johann upright for so long. He slipped and sank and, in a final desperate bid, flung an arm up for help.

Kanji answered, seizing Johann’s right hand. The florist’s expression only had a moment to shift before the hand and half of Johann’s forearm came off with a pop. The water engulfed the rest of him, leaving Kanji holding a lifeless piece of silicone with a stab mark just below the wrist.

Once Johann fully made it through, Miku Prime stared at the spot he once stood, and offered a wave to the group. She, too, willingly slipped through the water and down below… The screen showing the voting results shifted, displaying the events of the execution.

—

CW: Dismemberment, Implied Gore

Johann was splayed on a white table, nothing but a sheet draped over him. Machines hummed in dark corners as a very different overhead spotlight shone on him. He winced but had no chance to do more before a needle dug into his arm beneath the sheet.

The tension in his limbs faded even as a fully scrubbed and masked up Miku approached the table. She dragged a marker along Johann’s remaining forearm, then followed the line with a scalpel. Johann swallowed, his eyes twitching, but he didn’t seem to be in overt pain. Even as a bone saw whirred to life, its shrill pitch dropping when it cut, he stayed still. Blood soaked into the sheet as something clunked into a cooler box below, its lid shut swiftly before it was sent away.

Miku clamped something shut beneath the sheet, then moved around to Johann’s ankles.

Johann remained still as the process repeated, his breaths starting to hitch. Another bloodstain creeping into the sheet, another cooler box sent away. At least everything was being saved. That was good, right? That was supposed to be good. If it could be used, if it stayed ready for her, then it didn’t matter if it was attached to him or not. This was good.

After all, she couldn’t play the pieces she did without a left hand. Couldn’t press the pedals as well without a foot. 

Clunk.

Both feet. 

Clunk.

Couldn’t reach them without a leg. 

Clunk.

Or two.

Miku folded in the sheets as she went. 

Couldn’t reach the keys without an upper arm. Both arms. Best to be prepared if something else happened. This was good. This was all he’d ever wanted.

The sheet was completely red by the time the seventh box was sent away. Miku prepared a new scalpel and moved in again. Johann was breathing too quickly. This was fine. Plenty of things in the middle were necessary to live well, things she could need someday, things she’d make better use of than him. This was fine. This was for the best. This is exactly what he wanted. He wanted this, he wanted this, he…

More boxes filled, and Miku tucked the bloody sheet up one more time to reveal more empty space. Moving onward. Johann was still breathing too fast. Wouldn’t be breathing much longer. This was fine, these things were definitely necessary for life and he could never let her die if something happened so this was fine and it was better to just keep them on ice anyway in case he messed them up worse because it was more important that they’d be ready for someone who’d use them well so this was for the best this was right this was exactly what he wanted–

Miku drew a blade along his collarbones, then down beneath the sheet.

“Stop–”

Bone saw.

What was left of Johann shuddered. “S-stop–!”

This was exactly what he wanted he was never good enough to keep these it didn’t matter he wanted this he wanted this he wanted–

“Stop please stop–I–I don’t–!”

Something severed, and what little color remained drained from Johann’s face. 

A few more boxes were sent away, and Miku finally set the folded-tight sheet aside, the table empty.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

When the Tidal Waves Comes Crashing Down | María Dolores Aguiar | Trial 2 Results Reaction

For a stretch of time, María Dolores had truly believed the next execution would be her own.

She had been wrong, obviously - unable to commit to the act, despite all her prior intentions - but how much had really changed? Somebody had still died. A member of Low Tide still was the killer. An execution was still going to happen, no matter what anybody tried to do.

“... “

At the end of the day though, this trial - this upcoming execution - was no longer about María Dolores. It was about Johann. Johann, who had been motivated to stain his hands with blood in the name of his sister. Johann, who had willingly wrapped a bag around his head and let himself choke on paint thinner as part of his plan. Johann, who despite his best attempts, was going to die anyway.

She thinks back to when they last talked - really talked - face-to-face. She was perched upon the stage - and he was . She thinks, maybe, she had offered for him to come up onto the stage - and Johann had vehemently refused. He had said something about lacking potential - something he had treated as an objective fact.

So why now was Johann the one in the spotlight - the one to be sent off with a grand farewell - while all María Dolores could do was watch from the sidelines?

What a twist of fate.

“I can assist with cleanup. It’s… some things likely should be cleaned by me anyways.”

She thinks of the laundry room, stained with blood. She thinks of the infirmary, now housing scattered supplies and a bloody dress.

(She thinks, once again, of Takuma, leaning against the plywood, eyes closed and mouth bloody.)

Inevitably, however, she finds her eyes drifting over to Johann again. While she had wallowed in her sorrowful thoughts, it seems everybody else had already swooped in to help. True, Johann had decided to pay for his sister’s rescue himself, but other people had also agreed to act.

Swan will deliver a message. Sonny will take care of Johann’s sister, assuming any of them get out of here alive. Emile will even paint something for Johann - should Johann let that happen.

What else is there to offer?

“...I can offer your sister monetary support, once she’s managed to find a better place to stay. I already send money to my mã. It shouldn’t make a difference if I support another person too.“

It’s a paltry offer - one Sonny could likely cover alone if needed - and yet, it’s one María Dolores had to make all the same.

Because, at the end of the day, it’s impossible not to feel a twisted kind of understanding when she looks at Johann.

They don’t share the same background, and their personalities are different in nature. Johann’s home environment had clearly not been a kind one - and that was not something the judge was capable of fully comprehending. And for all María Dolores made an effort to shine on the stage, Johann was determined to remain a background fixture, convinced he had nothing to give. And yet, despite it all, María Dolores couldn’t help but see herself in him.

After all, Johann had not been the only one willing to stain their hands with blood in the name of family.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

washed in memory || emile dupont || trial 2 results reaction

Ever since more parts of their SEKAI had opened, amidst the remains of a damaged shipwreck where the passage of time overstays its welcome, Emile had his fair share of speculations. Records that had been kept out of sight, a cause for concern if not for the trepidation that had burdened his own heart.

It’s horrid then, how this has slipped by as it had. Just another that you had failed to reach. Another avoidable loss, but inevitable now all the same. The results won’t change, as one person has died, another must follow.

He doesn’t realize he’s held his breath until he feels his lungs burn, and eventually, he lets out a long sigh. There are pieces of him that tell him to recompose himself, because get it together, but he can’t quite bring it in himself to smile. It’s exhausting to try, so he doesn’t bother. So he starts with what comes more naturally to him.

“I’ll assist with cleanup afterwards as well, or at least prioritize another room. It’s the least I can do. Besides, it’s… something I’d prefer to do as well.”

‘Preferring’ is a bit of an understatement - but it's more beneficial in this manner, he thinks, before he turns his gaze to Johann.

There’s a lot he could say here, a complicated stirring of emotions that he hasn’t quite felt in a while. Because certainly, he can understand him, doing everything to protect the people he loves. He understands that so much. And yet, Takuma had still died by Johann’s hand. In fact, this trial had gone about in circles because of Johann’s refusal to answer properly at all. 

But Johann is still here. And above all else, he still deserves kindness, no matter how much the other will try to deny it. He still deserves it.

“Back then, when we were in that classroom and painted together… you were painting something in memory for Hitome and Dahlia following the last trial. What would you like yourself? I won’t just do something for Takuma, but I want to do something for you as well.”

Something among the shrine, another spot of dedication. If Johann doesn’t think he’s deserving of being remembered, then at least, he’ll do his best for him.

“I’ll keep your pointers in mind. You were a wonderful instructor.”

He just wishes there was more time. No matter what, it’s always about time. 

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Low Tide, Lower Odds | Sonny Desiree | Trial 2 Results Reaction

For someone so obsessed with perfection, for someone who always needs to get things right, Sonny for once wishes she was wrong. And that's not to say she thinks anyone else in the room should be punished either- it's a completely unjust situation. Hearing Johann's story, his requests too, those cause her to stop and think...

...none of this was a surprise, really. When looking back, she's able to put the pieces together. Because to give something up so vital to yourself seemed to be the hidden membership clause of Low Tide.

What was it she said to Johann, earlier?

I think everyone here, in Low Tide, has []. It's the fuckin' qualifier to get here. Welcome to Low Tide! Check your Lexapro at the goddamn door.

What a waste.

Sonny can feel the exhaustion settling in again. That same damn sense of doom that's been with her since the start and eating away. Four down, and then what? How many more? She doesn't vocalize that. She's too afraid to know.

"God damn it, Jojo. God... God fuckin' damn it."

She wants to yell, get mad, scream, but that's not doing any good here. She stays confined to her little box, her little podium, arms folded over and holding herself together because the Lord knows nobody else will help her when she spills over.

"I'd make the same offer I made to Hitome, but... it seems ya got it covered. Just..."

The words hang off the tip of her tongue. She's frozen in place. Then, she wipes at her eye suddenly, forcing on a smile.

"I'll take care of ya sister, alright? I'll make sure she's got everythin' she needs once outta here. So... hopefully, ya can go knowin' someone will handle it."

"Also... I can clean up the scene when we get outta here. I'm better off workin' than lettin' my thoughts get to me... so... that's one less thing to worry about."

By this point, her brain has rushed to cover all loose ends and wrap everything up. No time spent to feel, to mourn- all that matters now is what has to be done and what will come in the future. And it's better this way, Sonny knows, for everyone including herself.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Less Than the Sum of Your Parts | Johann Reiher | Trial 2 Reaction... 2!

Burned, but not the only option. Okay. And thanks to Cecilie's and Inazuma's checks, Johann was well aware he could afford the fee.

Useless as it may have been. Of course he'd known that, after all the hours in the dead of night scrolling through webpage after webpage on the topic. This is exactly why you weren't supposed to screw this up.

He let out a hoarse breath and bared his teeth at Miku in a not-grin. "Well, since you so kindly fucked up her medication today, she just might!" He wasn't going to look at Ozzy, this wasn't Ozzy's fault, it was just—Probably nothing, anyway! If anyone caught it, or it wasn't that major a mix-up—or most likely it hadn't even been refilled yet and wouldn't be until he'd expired. But if there was any chance, he had to...

Pretend he could still make a difference. Pretend he'd ever been able to make a difference.

At first, Lau Fei just got a blink—of... course? Why wouldn't he?—but then the question. Well, ah... Johann rubbed his forearm.

"Not... really?" Technically correct! Depending on how you defined certain words. "I mean, I'm the older sibling! So 's not like I was born to be spare parts or anything that messed up, ahah."

No, he'd been born to be a great composer.

Failed that.

At least a great pianist.

Failed that.

Anything.

Failed that.

In the end he'd done nothing to earn any part of himself. Why wouldn't he want it all put to better use?

Then Cecilie—well. Maybe Johann couldn't create anything worthwhile, but he could always listen. Hard as it was to focus right now, he certainly owed her that much. This was clearly important to her, as absurd as it was to keep promises made to an illusion of a person.

"Thank you," he finally said before wincing. "I—I'll pay the crystals myself, 's okay." Not like he'd be using them for anything else. 

And more testimonies on how much Takuma meant to his bandmates. What could Johann say that wouldn't ring horribly hollow after what he'd still gone through with everything? It wasn't as if killing someone else would've been okay. He just gave Erika a thin smile.

"You shouldn't."

Swan got a nod—Witch had mentioned his sister before, so maybe he was the closest to really understanding. Hopefully not that close.

Final messages coming up again. Was he really supposed to have something to say? What could possibly get his feelings across without just making Maria feel worse? What could possibly give her closure when she already knew him too well?

How could he possibly help her be who she was meant to be if he couldn't be there?

"I'll... see if I can come up with something." He owed Swan that much for the offer, at least.

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Claustrophobia | Swan Song | 2.4 | RE: Results, Cecilie | ATTN: Johann

And in a heartbeat, a blink of the eye, a flick of a switch, it’s over. Johann was the killer after all. For his beloved sister. Swan’s as baffled by the choice as much as he completely understands it, shaking his head in sickening wonder. Both of them, sister’s keepers in some way, weren’t they? If Alette had been the person his doll was attached to, he didn’t know if he’d be able to control himself. So he doesn’t resent Johann for his animalistic actions. Raw and primal, the need to serve and protect and prove oneself.

And Johann’s pleas of desperation, Miku’s callousness. What if it was him, in this position? What if it was Alette? What if it always had been, and he’s steps and seconds away from damnation? What if it’s him, next, in Johann’s place?

That’s awful to think about. Too awful. And it’s terrifying because he knows he won’t say no. He knows exactly what he is, what he’d do, with the right push, the right lever. And it’s not human. It’s something lesser, something protozoan, all impulse and instinct and proves there was nothing beautiful or inspirational in survival. It was smeared in paints and chemicals, dizzying and toxic, monstrous and wild, and it raked its claws down your back, sunk its fangs down to the bone, and no one ever said you were owed anything more than that. Savages, the lot of them. Dress it up in a suit and tie, prim and proper, but there was nothing elegant about this. About them.

About any of them.

He doesn’t want to be a part of this. Yet he doesn’t have a choice. If not him, then it was her, wasn't it? The right push, the right lever. And he’s just as disgustingly human as the rest of them. 

Something mists and fogs his eyes, something he wipes away with his arm before it can accumulate to something more. 

He doesn’t belong here, in his own skin, and he never would. He doesn’t belong here, amongst them, because he can’t feel what they feel. The desperation, the love, the grief, the ache. He feels nothing even close. Empty promises and empty words were all he had to share. 

He can’t do what they can. He can’t comfort. He can’t care. Empty eyes trail to Cecilie, tracing the path that Witch had taken into the salt flats, pondering her request. He doesn’t not or give any sort of affirmation, but he’ll never say no to anything asked of him. If only just to avoid argument. If only just to pretend, for a second longer, that he’s human through and through. 

Pretending was easier than being. 

But Witch had requested not to be followed, so that could wait until things were over here. For now, there were more immediate, pressing matters.

“...I have a sister, too.” He turns to Johann, his eyes like marbles, a bird-like tilt of his head as he considers the taller man. “So. I get it. Doesn’t make it right. But I get it.”

He pats his pockets, pursing his lips. “Don’t have any paper on me. But if you want to write her a message or something on your phone, I have the money. I’ll make sure she gets it.”

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Over and Over | Erika Singer | Trial Results Reaction

"......."

Erika wants to scream, to rage and yell at Johann. They're so angry at Johann for what he did. They clutch the edge of their podium with enough force for their knuckles to turn white, poison on their tongue, and--

And then Ozzy snaps at them, diverting their attention. She hadn't expected him to hear those words, and she's aware as his break that they'd been overly cruel. But was it worse than anything else people here said on a regular basis?

"........."

Of course, how could she forget? She'd said as much to Takuma. The people here don't want the real Erika, with all her thorns and prickly parts. They want someone palatable, easy to ignore. Complacent. Everyone else can be angry or be mean, but It's a problem when she is. Being what people don't want in a place like this is just more likely to get you killed. They just want to call her pretty when she isn't herself, they want to call her nice for biting her tongue. They don't want the real Erika, they just want Erika the Retail Worker.

They loosen their grip on the podium, crushing that anger and fury into the bottom of a bottle they'd be emptying out once they're alone. They can be as upset as they want when they're drunk and alone. But now they don't have a roommate to worry about.

Everyone keeps giving words of comfort to Johann, just like they'd done Hitome. She doesn't get it. Just because he'd apparently had a fucked up upbringing? So had Erika, so had half of them, and they didn't kill anyone over it. Johann hasn't even so much as displayed a hint of remorse or guilt for killing Takuma, so why? Did that not matter anymore, once the trial was over? Did any of them know how it feels, to take a life?

".....Takuma was a good person. When my own SEKAI had given me a panic attack, he was the only one who stuck by me and helped calm me down from it. When jokes about what set that off were made, he checked on me to make sure it wasn't going to give me another one. Miku had us talk after the first performance and he helped encourage me more than anyone else to actually bother doing anything, to try and not hate the way I deal with things. And now he's gone.

".....I won't ever forgive you, Johann. But that doesn't mean you deserve what's coming to you."

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Trials and Trauma || Lau Fei || Trial Results Reaction || Re: Miku || Attn: Johann

Transplants...? Had Lau Fei heard right? Was Miku just making something up or...was that what Johann really wanted? The reason Johann desperately wanted his body sent home was for...?

No. Surely this was just Miku speaking out the side of her neck. Just saying something absurd to torment them all further.

...

Johann had mentioned once before that his sister was sick. It wasn't that far of a stretch to believe he would want to use his body to help her get better.

"...Jo...hann..." They swallowed harshly. "Is that...really what you want? What Miku's saying right now? You...want your body to be used as...spare parts for your sister?"

Organ donation was a noble thing. Using your own body to bring life to another. Most people would view that as a good thing.

But if that was truly the first thing Johann considered with his impending death, then...

What sort of life had Johann led so far?

This wasn't just a matter of being noble. Or good. If it were just about that, it wouldn't matter where the organs meant. Asking specifically about his sister, meant he'd thought about it before. It meant...

"Johann. Have they asked you to give your organs before?"

'They' meaning his sister, meaning his family, meaning medical professionals. Any of them.

Would that sort of idea ever come to mind independently?

Or...

Was this already an expectation?