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murdergame voicetesting with nin!
[The room you wake up in is not your own. In fact, you may not have been sleeping at all before you're suddenly waking up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The bed isn't terribly uncomfortable, but it certainly isn't the nicest thing either; it's a standard cot, surrounded by the towering stone walls of your room. There's a wooden desk with a plain key on it, a simple chair, and a mirror, but absolutely nothing else. No decorations, nothing to indicate where you are or how you got here, and certainly no answers.
Should you leave the room and start exploring, you'll find that you're in some sort of fortress. A medieval one, from the looks of it, given that there's no technology to be found anywhere and the laundry room involves no actual laundry machines. The front doors are sealed off with some sort of magic sigil and guarded by two hulking suits of armor that stand ominously in the way. They won't react if talked to or poked, but you get the distinct feeling that they're watching you...
The other rooms are about what you'd expect - a kitchen and dining room fit for function rather than fashion, an armory that is strangely empty aside from some training dummies, a war room that is really just a round table and chairs, and a small library. Not the most exciting thing in the world, but that's likely intentional.
After all, in the foyer there are two very important pieces of information behind unbreakable glass: the first are the rules, written in a flowing hand and dark ink with the usual rules - including one notable one about killing for your freedom. Beside it is a second set of information and pictures: profiles of all the Soldiers brought into this little game, it would seem.
Enjoy your stay in the Fortress; the General will be watching you.]
Should you leave the room and start exploring, you'll find that you're in some sort of fortress. A medieval one, from the looks of it, given that there's no technology to be found anywhere and the laundry room involves no actual laundry machines. The front doors are sealed off with some sort of magic sigil and guarded by two hulking suits of armor that stand ominously in the way. They won't react if talked to or poked, but you get the distinct feeling that they're watching you...
The other rooms are about what you'd expect - a kitchen and dining room fit for function rather than fashion, an armory that is strangely empty aside from some training dummies, a war room that is really just a round table and chairs, and a small library. Not the most exciting thing in the world, but that's likely intentional.
After all, in the foyer there are two very important pieces of information behind unbreakable glass: the first are the rules, written in a flowing hand and dark ink with the usual rules - including one notable one about killing for your freedom. Beside it is a second set of information and pictures: profiles of all the Soldiers brought into this little game, it would seem.
Enjoy your stay in the Fortress; the General will be watching you.]
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[He'd framed it like there wasn't another option, like Sayaka would just keep coming at him if he hadn't killed her. Like maybe she would have targeted someone else even if he had gotten her to stand down. But is that really the truth? There's no way to know for certain.
Yeager could argue that Sayaka was desperate to get home, that she'd been anxious and upset the entire time she was here, that she'd told him that she was worried she'd be left behind and forgotten by the time they managed to find a way to escape. She was a desperate kid too, just one who went to extremes right away. She didn't deserve this either.
But that brief flicker of anger dies easily enough; after all, Sayaka truly isn't comparable to Gauche and Droite. They would have been smart enough to sit down and take stock of the situation before committing to killing someone to try to escape. The only reason he's annoyed with this at all is because Sayaka reminds him a bit of his own girls.
Instead, Yeager shrugs.]
I do agree, though I don't believe our captor has any interest in "justice". This is a game to him, ja? He puts us in a situation where our lives are on the line, and we've no choice but to play along.
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[It's hissed, not shouted, though he gets a few stares all the same.]
All the more reason to find the bastard.
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[The outburst doesn't seem to startle him at all. As always, he's remarkably calm about the whole situation.]
But who knows. He did say we would be... "rewarded" for our efforts.
[We're getting a new floor tomorrow, but no one knows that yet.]
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[There's so much disgust in Harry's voice.]
How long will this go on for? Until there's no one left?
[It's clearly a rhetorical question, because he continues before Yeager can answer.]
This is someone well-funded. It's not some one-person act. If he's not stopped, he'll probably do it again. Him and his collaborators.
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[He doesn't mean to be cryptic when he says it, but it certainly is a cryptic thing to say.]
I've been in situations when the odds are bad, Yeager. Life and death kind of shit. I was in one of those situations five days before I woke up here.
There will be an opportunity. It's just a matter of minimizing casualties.
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[He doesn't believe the General would be stupid enough to allow something like that, but then, who knows? It's a possibility he can't rule out entirely, and it is better than thinking that he's going to die here. So Yeager nods at that.]
I don't mean to be such a downer, though it is rather difficult to think like that after [handwave] everything today has been.
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[No doubt this so-called "General" is counting on people continuing on with the killings.]
Before I was here, I was in my city. Revachol. Capital of the world.
[A city-state in other words. Anywhere that isn't Revachol is somewhere else entirely.]
It's... [he pauses] a long story, but the short of it is I was investigating a murder in a no man's area called Martinaise. It doesn't fall into the jurisdiction of any precinct, so two ones were called in. The 41st, me, and the 57th, Kim Kitsuragi.
[There seems like there's a lot more to it than that, but he's trying to keep it as brief as he can.]
The man who was killed was a merc. The union covered up the real cause of death to cover for a woman the merc was... er, intimate with.
The merc's friends got drunk some days into our investigation. Decided to hold a "tribunal" with the intention of executing every single member of the union who was part of the cover up. They didn't believe the real cause of death was a sniper's shot.
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[He can follow along easily enough, this sounds like Standard Guild Nonsense, tbh. You see all sorts of crazy things in Dahngrest.]
What happened?
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Maybe it was stupid. The union men weren't exactly forthcoming. Their lawyer argued that it was a hanging even after I showed them the bullet I pulled out of the deceased myself.
But I'm not really the sort to watch innocents die.
[Even remembering next to nothing, he's not the sort to walk away from a bad situation.]
She was nearly killed by the leader, but he was drunk. Missed her. I kept him talking until he was distracted, and then shot him in the face.
[He's very, very dead, in other words.]
All hell broke out after that. I was shot twice. Don't really remember a whole lot after that. I came to long enough to see Kim in danger and warned him. After that, two days passed and I don't remember any of it.
It was an utter shitshow. The leader of the union's militia lived, but his brother and three others were killed. As were all three mercs.
Civil war is absolutely coming, it's just a matter of when.
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Oh dear, that does sound quite dreadful. I wonder how much things have changed in your absence...
[It hasn't been that long, but... well, it's something he's been thinking about a lot.]
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I don't know. I don't really want to think about it.
Jean's probably had a stroke.
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[Feel free to misinterpret that, if you'd like! He doesn't elaborate right away.]
Because of my... memory issues, I don't remember much about him, but I know we've worked together for at least two years. He spent most of that scraping me off the pavement.
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I see, I see... And you think he'll be doing poorly without you there?
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Honestly, I don't think it's possible for me not to sound like a raving drunk describing what's happened here.
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Ja, I can't imagine trying to explain this to anyone...
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[But for now...]
I'm going to retire for the night, but thank you for the conversaion!
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[Like he hasn't realized what time it is.
After everything that's happened, he's not going to be sleeping. Though that's not new.]
Take care.