SECOND TRIAL

[whimsicalism]

SECOND TRIAL

THE CONTAINMENT CENTER

((CW implied cannibalism from monsters, clowns.))

Once all of the relevant rooms have been searched, it's time to dry tears and gather up evidence. The sheep, whirring dully and many of them hanging their heads, gradually round the remaining children up and begin herding them to the elevator doors. Even with only two extra people missing, it's much roomier inside once the doors are closed. Once everyone is loaded, the car begins its shrieking descent, lights and sounds grating equally as the students are once more shuttled down to the containment area.

Some of the cells on the way down contain familiar charges, but other denizens seem to have been moved. Or perhaps the layout of the containment area changed recently? Today, a large cell is home not only to an elderly woman but her large rickety home. She sits on her porch with a certain grace, even if there's a glint in her eye that feels more malicious than kindly as she beckons at you with a gnarled finger. The sudden scrambling of her home's talons might startle the unprepared. Another cell contains nothing more than a constantly roaring fire, the blaze stretched wall to wall and pulsing rhythmically at its core every so often, as it if it had its own beating heart.

For anyone worried the clown wouldn't be returning: Have no fear! The gang's friend is here again, though there are two fewer intact balloons now gripped in his hand. He's even taken efforts to look beautiful for everyone observing through the cell doors, and the red makeup around his lips is bright and freshly applied. Beautiful! Until he draws the flat of his knife across his mouth, and the source becomes obvious, just as bright as it was a week ago.

In the courtroom--the depressing, angular nightmare that passes for one--the stone podiums stand waiting for their respective students once more. With a couple more empty than the last time the group was down here, they're looking more and more like gravestones.

The desk is still down here, albeit empty this time. But the projector screen is exactly the same, the ram's head looking out at the sick entertainment on offer. For someone who's turned all of this into his own person theater, one would think he'd sound delighted by the death and destruction. Instead, his strong voice is just as clipped and angry as it always is. He barks out a command.

"Time to actually use those minds of yours! I guess this witch hunt is about to begin. Find out what happened to Thomasin or it'll be your necks on the line!"


Investigation | Podium Layout | Locations | IC Profiles | IC Rules | IC Evidence Presentation | Evidence List | NPC Questions

OOC NOTES

Welcome to your second trial for Round 2! As we know that trials and any afterparties can get busy, we'd like to quickly remind everyone to make sure their Week 1 AC is squared away by tomorrow's weekly post and to start collecting their Week 2 threads to submit. Make sure to get your regains in by tomorrow night as well!

As a clarification for what evidence can be brought in, a rule of thumb is that if you can carry it you probably can bring it. We mainly want to discourage corpse desecration, if we can, so while the body itself isn't allowed into the trial most things are. If your character has access to a piece of evidence and you don't know if you can bring it in, you can either ask the mods privately if that's possible or by pinging them in the post itself. If a piece of evidence is forgotten, you can either assume retroactively that someone did or that the sheep brought it in to make sure that everything is tidy.

As always, just put MODS in the header of your comment to get our attention for any clarification.

Good luck!

Comments

WORKSHOP

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

[The monsters are just as terrifying to witness the second time as they were the first, at least to Dylan. It makes things feel even more wrong than they already are, and if there weren't a murder to focus on he might just cower in the corner.

But, Thomasin is indeed dead, and with Reika's empty podium right beside him, he can't forget what happens at this point. So when he get's to his stand, jumping up onto it so he can be seen, he doesn't hesitate to pull out the baggie with burnt cloth scraps and an empty bottle of paint thinner.]

W-Went to the workshop. Someone-someone burned a uniform in the kiln. Only some scraps were left. A-also, pretty much all the paint thinner was used, and...the most noticeable place was-on Thomasin herself, with it used on mostly the back side of her. The back of her arms, the back of her knees, her back, and a little bit on her face. O-only a little bit of paint, was left. Almost couldn't see it.

[britbrat]

You're not meant to use paint thinner on skin.

[ Valmont actually knowing something about household objects? Will wonders never cease. ]

[hashtagwoof]

No, duh. The culprit was trying to murder her, remember?

[britbrat]

Then why try to clean the paint off her? Why not just douse her in the stuff?

[hashtagwoof]

Because, I'm assuming someone was stupid enough to think the paint would look enough like blood to throw us off. Either that, or we have a weirdo who wanted to clean up her body after she died.

[violence_ensues]

...Can the killer not smell?

[hashtagwoof]

... Probably not?

Then again, last time we figured out who the killer was by smell... So that might have factored into it.

[ He thinks for a moment. ] Maybe we could get Dylan to smell everyone to see who smells the most like paint?

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

[Reluctantly:]

I...can do that again, if it seems like we need it.

[temmapathy]

So someone who's not used to blood, then.

[hashtagwoof]

Exactly!

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

Well, they kinda...didn't do much, if they wanted to clean her. Her entire front was covered in paint. Like they only got the parts immediately available and didn't try to turn her over.

[hashtagwoof]

... Good point.

[ See, this is what happens when you don't actually participate in investigating and make a last minute prep kit instead. You miss out on details. ]

[keyringwitness]

That's odd... [Yasu murmurs. She taps her chin, rearranging all the pieces that Dylan, Adorabat, and Emma have presented in her mind... and snaps her fingers.]

Maybe...

If you were splashed with a bucket of paint at an angle where it would make a silhouette against the wall, almost none of it would get on your back. Right?

Thinking about it this way, I wonder... was the culprit trying to make it seem like Thomasin somehow made the silhouette? There aren't many other reasons I can think of to clean the paint specifically off her back, but that just raises more questions.

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

I...think that makes sense? But-it depends on the kind of silhouette. If it's the absence of paint in the shape of a person, yeah, that sounds right. If it's the presence of paint in the shape of a person, it would only work if someone pressed their body against a wall or floor to create the silhouette.

[Da Vinci continues to help in art based evidence.]

[violence_ensues]

nnnnn... If they were pressing up against the wall, wouldn't they press their back up against the wall as if they were trying to avoid someone falling? Or... maybe panicking at what they did...

[keyringwitness]

But if that's the case, the paint would only be on their back, right? Otherwise it would've been tracked across the floor, too.

[violence_ensues]

I don't get why the paint would be on the killer's back, either. It's super weird.

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

That...would make more sense...

How-how tall was this silhouette, again?

[temmapathy]

[Emma holds out an arm at around the 3-foot height.]

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

...hm...

[Hm!]

[violence_ensues]

Watcha thinkin' about, Dylan?

[keyringwitness]

...I think we're making a fundamental mistake here, in assuming it was made by someone's back or whatever. The silhouette doesn't look anything like any of us, or even remotely human. Or, um. Dog, bat, hedgehog, duck, et cetera.

I mean... hm, I guess those would squash... and that would fit the profile too, if it got on the tips... and the structure might prevent paint from falling to the floor, too...

[violence_ensues]

What would squish?

[canreallymove]

Well, um. It could be a short person or someone kneelin’. Right?

[keyringwitness]

...no, there's a pretty big hole in my logic here.

Er. Sorry for suspecting you, Sonic, but you don't fit as the culprit either. After all, I've never seen you wearing the school uniform, and there were scraps of it burning in the kiln. So it can't be you, right...?