#aach2

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

at least he can lift || Rafaël || [RE: Execution, Saki & Takara]

The truth had been revealed at last, it was all he could ask for, honestly. Well, now he had a new opponent to watch out for-- to him, Alphonse's confession was crystal clear and he should have been executed, but the tables have tabled and the end result was completely different. It was a thing to expect in a courtroom... The absolute truth couldn't always be found with a mere snap of fingers, as long as there was not enough evidence and one idiot insisted to take a criminal's place. For fuck's sake, if things could be a whole lot easier... well, there was a reason he didn't want to become a lawyer to begin with.

Whatever happened on screen next was none of his business, he was not there to assist to the death of a high-schooler. He just wanted to possibly get out of there as fast as could be (mainly to avoid seeing unpleasant things to his eyes on screen and have yet another embarrassing time)-- but he was stopped in his tracks immediately after hearing a childish complaint coming from the nearest table neighbors, the voice was particularly familiar.

"What did you jus--"

And he was cut off when the vocaloid producer started yelling something outrageously loud on her way out, not only was she making a huge ruckus with her high-pitched voice, but she was roping his other roommate in the mess. She was like a live ambulance, pushing him around on the office chair and literally-- oh, Christ, this was so unpleasant, they were going to hurt themselves badly while he still had a chance to prevent that, so why was he standing idly on the doorway, mouth slightly agape as if he was waiting for them to just crash into something?

"Bon sang!! Pourquoi personne ne me paye pour m'occuper de cette enfant mal-élevée?!"

"Reviens ici-- Nnngh-- Get back here!!"

He immediately stormed out of the room and put an end to the ride with a hand on the chair's backrest, and another on Saki's shirt collar so she wouldn't brutally fly out of the armrest. He was giving a stern look, as if he had to start lecturing them on the policy of hallways (even though there were none) or just looking like he had decided he needed to take the role of a father within this absurd trio. That was possibly the most accurate role he would get, or maybe just Big Brother. Either way, being on the lookout for the safety of two children (mostly the girl) was what he had been unconsciously assigned since he learned he'd be rooming with the two of them (better even, considering the two other roommates had been brutally murdered).

"You sure know how to handle an individual in the midst of suffering from panic attack! Do you want him to have a stroke?"

Huffing, he let go of her clothes, still keeping a hand tight on the chair so she wouldn't attempt a sly escape.

"Let me take care of it. How about you get off there if you don't want he chair to snap and make two victims? Maybe even three?"

But perhaps, letting this child have her two feet on the ground was already threatening enough for everyone on a nearby radius, he quickly remembered a few weeks ago on their first meeting about how he had turned her down on a piggy-back ride, and he wondered if it was an acceptable solution at the time...

"... Listen, I'll let you ride on my back. Piggy-back ride. I know you like those, just stop traumatizing that infant."

Yes, definitely a good idea.

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Execution | Alphonse [Horse Steppin'; Pt. 2 {AKA i forgot to write this part}]

♫♫♫

It was, in that time, in that place, that Alphonse finally shed his skin. The tears that had been present [against my will, against my will] during the trial finally spilled out. The hand pressed against the wall turned to a fist- and the clenched hand was slammed against it, leaving a mark.

His frustration didn’t just ebb away. It came back in waves, in high-rising nausea that clutched his chest- guilt that stabbed at his heart like a chorus of little angry devils, each with their own pitchfork parked with ‘SELF-PITY’ and ‘GUILT’. [How poetic. And utterly trivial.]

When Al had first met Sei, he mistook him for another- another redhead who had once occupied his life. And now, another ginger boy was lost to the flames- and try as he might, no stop came to it. … [Did you really try? Of course I did. You sat back down. Cut me some slack.]

Alas, no slack came to the furious boy. His hatred was brimming to the point of an overflow, and he took it out best he could- by letting out a yell, and punching the wall. An indentation was made from this fist of fury, to which he stepped back, face contorted in pain. It wasn’t so much that his hand hurt (it had withstood so much more), but the fact that it didn’t stop his heart. Hadn’t he already proved that he was a being capable of empathy, without having to be reduced to tears? [Oh well.]

Too late. There were tears, and they were plentiful, being occasionally rubbed away by an arm in a vain attempt to keep them away.

His heart wasn’t stopping in racing, still beating in his rib-cage, trying to flee- too wounded by the sight of a youth’s demise to want to stick around, it seemed.

For good measure, he kicked the wall as well. Might as well get all your anger out before resorting to something potentially useful, for ways to spend your time. Right?

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

For your high goals||Akemi||Monokuma Theater [Re: Execution]

Well, that was that.

Akemi had been so dazed in the aftermath of her little incident that she hadn't even gotten the chance to vote. But, alas, even without her help, the vote pulled through the correct culprit. The perpetrator or justice. The evil. And so, that was that. Justice had been dealt, evil once again removed. It relieved some part of her inside to know that that was that, at least for now.

[Later I'd like to have a few conversations. I'd like to know who is on the side of good in this place, or at the very least, who is for now.]

She shook her head as she stood, still dizzy from the earlier oddity. She looked around, her eye subconsciously catching onto a few key people. Then consciously catching onto Takara being dragged away by Saki. Oh dear, that couldn't end up well. Nyooming a the speed of rolling chair, the two exited the conference room. After a minute of inner debate, she followed suit, but made no attempt to trail the pair, wherever they might've ended up crashing. No, she pushed onward to the outdoors, taking a seat on the cold ground, observing the beauty of the nature outside. The fresh air might help her get her bearings again.

But sitting out there, solitary, draped in silence with no sound but the rustling of leaves in the soft breeze, the calm only lasted a minute or two.

It started with a feeling in her throat, then a shiver, an attempt to hold back, and a failure as hot tears began to spill from her eyes.

Four people were dead. For what? For greed, for fear, for all these things that shouldn't matter. So, she cried, burying her face in her arms and weeping for those who had been lost for no reason, and for those who had died for every reason. The innocent. The injust. Dead is dead.

[Better of dead than killing again. Better off dead than committing injustice. Better off dead than wrong.]

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

cause i'm barely here at all || takara || re: execution, saki

{ warning for panic attack implications! }

"I t-told... y-you..."

Wait, had that been an attempt at speaking among those wheezes there? 

Honestly, Takara had barely watched the execution. He couldn't have even if for some crazy reason he'd wanted to- the panicking boy was resigned to remaining slumped at the table, tears swiftly rolling over the hands covering his mouth as though he could try and hold the wheezing breaths back. He was shaking, violently so, the noises of the execution mere background noise in comparison to the echos of that 'conversation' just now. Hopefully Alphonse hadn't taken Rafael up on that offer of fighting; that would just be the right finishing touch wouldn't it? 

Noise around him. The execution must have finished. Seishirou must have died. Still trembling and gasping Takara managed to lift his head, only to see his current greatest fear was currently missing from his seat. Okay, okay so there wasn't going to be any immediate consequences... unless he was waiting outside. And there was no-one in this damned office block to scoop him up and tug him away from the first hints of danger, was there?

Not that there would be anymore anyway. 

And whose fault is that?

Really, if it wasn't for a certain vocaloid producer, Takara probably wouldn't have been able to physically leave that table. Perhaps he'd been wrong about that last thought. Though the 'taking him out of danger' part ended up... questionable.

"W-WHA-"

He barely had any time to kick in Saki's arms before he found himself sitting down again, Takara seeming to roll over the seat like an animal might once suddenly placed in order to right himself. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision of tears Takara still felt rather numbed from panic, head swimming even before he was suddenly pushed out of the room.

"S-SHIMODA-SAN-!"

For a kid in the midst of a panic attack who never normally entered something before deciding it was absolutely safe, this was quite the turn of events. 

A rather terrifying one too. 

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Super Hero || Saki || RE: Execution || ATTN: Takara & Rafael

Sitting quietly in her chair (spinning around as usual,) Saki wasn't really sure how to react to the mess this trial caused. People voted for one person, others voted for another...Personally, she didn't give a single shit about either of them. Hell, she couldn't even bring herself to vote for...Well, herself. If they killed, they must have wanted death more than she did...After all, her only action ended up getting her injured, but she was far from dead. Maybe if she wanted the sweet relief, killing someone would have to be in order. A sad truth....

She began to tear up, rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hands and letting out a disgusted sigh. Why couldn't they just kill her already!? Was being silent just no good? Well fine then, maybe she had to become louder than she ever was before! 

"God FUCKING damnit...! Why couldn't that be me!? Augh...! I hate yoooooou all so much...One of you just kill me already! Kill me kill me kill me!"

Kicking her feet back and rolling herself out of there, she stopped for a moment and looked around. The only people she honestly had a tiny bit of care for were Takara and Rafael...Even if one of them was such a sour puss! Oh well...They were still probably the nicest people here next to Akemi, but she didn't really know her well enough.

So, she decided to roll herself over to Takara...Who didn't seem to be doing so well after all. Maybe he needed help coming out of shock...She did hear what that other super tall guy was saying earlier (faintly,) and that might've...Caused a bit of discomfort. Hell, he probably wouldn't be too happy if he heard her whole "I hate everyone! Let me die!" outburst considering they were right near each other in the trial.

Putting on a smile, she got out of her chair and picked him up without even explaining what was going on. She quickly plopped him into the chair and pushed him out, looking back to call Rafael over.

"WEE WOO! WEE WOO! WEEEEEE WOOOOO! OUTTA MY WAY SUCKERS! LET'S GOOOOOO TAKAKAKAKAKAKARA!"

She gave the chair one last good push before jumping and sitting on the arm of the chair...How was it possible? I don't know let's not question her anymore. The point is, they were now nyooming by with no chance of steering...

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

Execution | Alphonse [Horse Steppin']

♫♫♫

It was, as if though, the world were coming to a stop. His heart plummeted into his chest, still racing, still beating at a pace he couldn't keep up with. With his vision spinning, he watched as his friend's light was...extinguished.

[If only.]

If only, what? He couldn't answer. His head was turning, vision swimming, as he stood from the table to leave. Utterly disoriented [a weight is off my shoulders], he pulled himself away [and yet my legs are lead] and left the assembly.

Someone's life had just been taken. One that he could have protected, up until the very, very end. He could be sick. He would have been sick, had there been anything but a few stray sunflower seeds every few days.

At some point, he had to breathe. One hand pressed against the wall as the other ran up to brush away any wayward hairs that could have fallen.

[Shirtless for nothing, eh?]

His heart was hardened, and his head rested against the wall. Disgust and frustration swept his heart away. Time to rest for a minute, Alphie-kun.

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

monobear theatre - hell's kitchen

SEISHIROU SONEGAWA HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY

COMMENCING EXECUTION…

HELL'S KITCHEN

[ ♪♫♪ ] [ tw: cannibalism and eye strain for the music! ]

With his final confession and a sharp gasp, a clasp locks around Seishirou’s ankle, tossing him to the ground- him in control of his body little more than a ragdoll is of its. Though, it doesn’t seem as if he’s got much fight in him, hardly protesting as he’s dragged away.

The curtains pull apart, and the scene opens of a kitchen- all cool steel surfaces and shining equipment- clean and safe and beautiful, with Seishirou standing behind the counter. A conveyor belt rises from the floor slowly, and Seishirou begins to realize exactly what's happening. This is one of those conveyor belt restaurants, and he's the chef. He's never been in one before, but he cracks his knuckles and steels himself anyways. He's the Super High School Level Bento Maker. He could figure this out. The conveyor belt begins to pull, vibrating noisily, and exact copies of their captor Monobear step out of the wings and shadows to line up to order. A bead of sweat rolls down his face as he stares his enemies down, eyes flicking to the bento boxes he's to cook for and prepare before him.

At first, the pace is manageable- even a bit slow for a pro like him. All the food has been provided and prepped- he just has to cook it, and that's the easiest thing he can do. He can cook. He's good at this. Back and forth from the stove, gas flames licking up at the bottom of the wok, to rice, steam heating his face uncomfortably but familiarly, filling the air with a soothingly sweet scent, to prep, where he just has to serve and drop the plate on the conveyor, he's on his feet, fast and able. In his element. Confident, even. This is the only place where Seishirou Sonegawa has ever felt confident. This is the only place he'd ever feel at home.

It's a shame they have to destroy that, isn't it?

As he works, the line moves faster. The conveyor chokes and groans at the strain, but Seishirou's doing his best to keep up the pace, dropping the food out virtually at the speed of fast. Sure, the quality's lessening- it's messy, some of the food is slightly burned or overcooked maybe, but it's the price to pay for speed, isn't it? Wiping sweat off his brow, he truly feels the heat of the situation for the first time. This is dangerous. This is how he will die.

- "I'm fine," he laughs to himself. Maybe he is. He probably isn't. Either way, he's carrying on like he is, and his classmates can only watch in horror as he continues to slip up and fail as the pressure's being cranked up. The voices of the Monobears grumble and groan as the heat rises in the kitchen, and Seishirou does nothing to comfort them- they put him and themselves there. He doesn't much care about customer service anymore, does he?

As the conveyor belt speeds up even faster- it's amazing that he can even get those dishes out in a timely manner, however terrible looking they may be- he turns the heat up on the stove. Flipping the food in the wok with a careful flick of the wrist, he hardly notices the blast of steam shooting up beside him. He knows this is it. His finale. Turning to face his class, he gives a slight bow, smiling. Tears are filling his eyes, but they steam off as soon as they begin to roll down his cheek and never his the ground. With his final goodbye out of the way, he turns back to the wok, flipping the food again as a flame licks out of the stove, massive and consuming. As the bright blue-and-white light engulfs him, the curtains close.

SEISHIROU SONEGAWA, SHSL BENTO MAKER, HAS BEEN EXECUTED.

[Art credit goes to Leo! Thank you!]

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

monotheatre - fire burning

"It looks like the winner is... SEISHIROU SONEGAWA!"

"I didn't know if you suckers would get it right this time!! I was 'vewwy wowwied'!! But you got it, and I'm proud!!

..."

"That's a flat-out lie. Let's just get on with the execution."

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

VOTES REGISTERED…

-VOTED-

Seishirou Sonegawa - 5 Alphonse Yoshioka - 2 Orpheus Edler - 1 Shirou Sonozaki - 1 Izumi Iwazaru - 1

-DEFAULTED-

Seiki Chiba, Hiroto Shibata, Akemi Sekai, Natsuno Okubo, Remi Shijou, Saki Shimoda, Emiko Akiyama, Miyuki Arakaki, Yang Li

THE WINNER IS…

Seishirou Sonegawa!

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

trial end || every rose has it's thorns (but this time it's all thorns. just a bucket of thorns. thanks, monobear)

"Alright kiddos! Trial's over, and let me tell you- that one was a doozy!! Were you excited? Were you pumped? I was!! It was like a tennis match, except I actually cared!!! Plus, murder.

Sorry, Rosberg-chama.

Anyways, let's tally up those votes, eh?"

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[Shirou] Monobear? If we vote and we're wrong... what happens?

"That's for me to know... and for you to find out!!"

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No Easy Way Out || Reisuke || Trial #2 [Re: Sei]

Well this was kind of awkward. Two people were confessing? Who was the killer? Seishirou or Alphonse? It wasn't like it really mattered in the end, anyway. Regardless of what they did, someone wouldn't be walking out of this courtroom at the end of the day. In the end, someone was going to die, did it really matter who? So what if the killer got away with it, it only prolongs their eventual demise, right? No matter what, somebody would be losing a friend.

That being said, he had to make a decision. Seishirou... Alphonse... Seishirou... Alphonse...

"I see how it is... A choice then?"

Two friends fighting to save each other, was that really all this was? Two people who are willing to die in order to protect one another. How... strange.

"Fine then. If you insist you're dying anyway, Sonegawa-san, I shall vote for you. However... May I make one request?"

He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. When he resumed talking, his voice was a lot more harsh and for once had a small semblance of emotion, compared to before.

"Would you kindly stop acting like you're helping anyone out here. You're not. Acting as if you're 'saving' your friend... Do you even know how it feels to know a friend died in order for you to live?"

"It hurts. It kills you on the inside and causes your humanity to bleed out until there's nothing left but a hollow shell. You spend years thinking about how you should have been the one, but no matter what, you can't change the past. There's no good option for either of you here. You say you'll feel worse off if Alphonse-san dies instead? Well how do you think he'd feel?"

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That Is Not a Proper Burial Rite (Shirou, RE: basically everything, ATTN: Sei, Alphonse)

Shirou had managed to drag himself into the trial room, being made ambulatory and nominally conscious mostly by virtue of caffeine. It was readily apparent to anyone looking at him that he hadn't been sleeping well or at all. What could have possibly gotten to him...? He certainly wasn't saying.

He was used to long nights and getting little to no sleep, but not under these conditions. And so his contributions consisted mostly of blinking blearily whenever evidence was presented and shaking his head during lulls in the conversation to try and keep himself awake and alert, or at least something close to it.

So when the yelling started, he had exactly zero ideas as to what was going on. He groaned and rested his head in his hands, making very sure he didn't close his eyes because he might not open them again if he did.

"Oh, for fu--"

'Language, Shirou!' He could hear his father scolding him already. If only he were actually here. Then maybe things would be different.

"...pity's sake."

Better. He let out a sigh, blowing a few stray strands of hair out of his face. What to do...? Things had started out quietly enough and then complete pandemonium had broken out. The culprit apparently had an accomplice, there was an abnormally tall person said he did it and then the red-haired guy who spoke English said he did it and then they were arguing about murderers and it was all too much for his poor sleep-deprived brain to process.

After a few moments of trying to piece together what was going on between the arguing and shouting, he finally managed to come to a conclusion. Okay. They had a coin flip's chance of getting the right culprit, it seemed, unless something new came up very soon. He didn't like those odds. Not that he liked anything about this situation, but still. Unfortunately with how little he had investigated, he had next to nothing to contribute. What would happen should they be wrong...? Nothing good, surely. Perhaps he should ask Monobear about that...then again, there was something else at the forefront of his mind. He sat up as straight as he could manage, looking the two potential culprits straight in the eye. For a few seconds. He couldn't manage that for long. It's okay Shirou, you tried.

"...Perhaps one of you would care to explain something for me. The note. What was the purpose of that?  Why did you...desecrate her body that way? It's...senseless."

He could be asking things that might actually settle this, but hey, he had standards! Odd ones, but they were there.

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

Izumi has questions for Monobear, apparently. The note he passes over reads

"There's no way out that doesn't end in death~!"

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韋編三絶 | Izumi | School Trial [RE: Monobear?]

It was happening again. Izumi could very plainly see where the trial was going, and every word uttered by Alphonse and Seishirou just reminded him of Maemi Oshiro. Now there was a confession of sorts, and soon there would be another death. The calligrapher found himself desperately wishing that there was more time to figure out what was going on -- more time to hear the both of them out. But 'time' was a resource he'd never had much of in the first place, and he certainly wouldn't be getting any more of it now.

The one thing he did know was that if he so much as considered voting for anyone besides himself, he would be doing the world a disservice. With that thought in mind, Izumi began writing something in his notebook again before carefully tearing out the page and sliding it down to where Monobear was seated.

"... ... ... ... ... ..."

[arcadia-abattoir-blog]

waht tegh guvck ?thans for the wasted vote. rafael changes vote to seishirou.