SECOND TRIAL

[bathymetric]

[ Once enough time has passed to gather the appropriate information, Davy Jones once again moves to collect any stragglers who don't make it back to the theatre. ]

Step lively, same procedure as the last time!

[ Before long he plays that same complicated song on the organ and, crowded into the elevator, you all descend once more into the depths of the ship. But you might notice as you head down... there's more room in the elevator than there was before, with three of you gone now. Not much, but still. It's noticeable.

The sound of another shanty echoes from the Dutchman below as the elevator reaches its destination, that same foreboding glass room at the very base of the vessel. The sea is dark about you.

The circle of podiums is largely unchanged, though Shard and Adeline's have joined Carmen's in looking nigh hundreds of years older than all the others, rusting and covered in bivalves and seaweed. ]

Ye all seem to have caught on quick to what to do. I be here if any inquiries burn too fiercely.

[ The Captain is late again, it seems, but things are set to start anyway.

Welcome to your second trial. ]

(too late) you're at the party

[scouserer]

[Well, it's safe to say that trial fucking sucked. Therefore, some sort of afterparty is in order. Constantine is admittedly not good at throwing parties without some sort of liquor or other drug involved, but that's where Data and Sylvando guide him.

First order of business--invites. Upon returning to your rooms, crumpled pieces of paper have been taped to the doors. Written in poor handwriting is the following:]

meet at the lounge
bring whatever you want
[Simple, but effective. The lounge itself has been livened up a bit with Sylvando's help. Some nicely patterned fabric has been draped around on the tables to liven up the place a little, and snacks from the café and vending machines have been placed out for people to peruse.

A few supplies from the first aid room have been gathered, as well, for those who may need it. But perhaps the help is unnecessary, as tomorrow will likely bring another New Years Eve. And with it, another week of despair and frustration.

But for now, they can forget about that and pretend that all that matters is the present.]