Sixth Trial

[bathymetric]

[ After a time, as always, your investigation is interrupted by the Mayor's now-familiar voice, calling out to you over the loudspeakers. ]

And that's gonna be time. Pack it in, everyone, bring what you're gonna bring because it's trial time.

[ There are so many bathyspheres missing, you cannot help but notice, as you all pile into the station for your standard trip down to the trial room. Your number has dipped to about a third of its original size - a fact that becomes even more evident when you reach the circle of podiums at the bottom of New Rapture's ocean trench. ]

You all know why you're here. Someone killed Pillage Idiot, and it's your job to figure out who. This is your sixth one, I sure hope you have the procedure down by now.

[ Welcome to your sixth trial. ]

Comments

[inaclearing]

...that thing was tight, you've got some marks here. Are you...okay...?

[The way he's phrasing it is still...somewhat at odds with his tone.]

[visiblepattern]

...I'm fine, Brett.

[He takes a moment. Breathes.]

I promise, I'm fine. No going out of the suites on Thursday nights, remember?

[honeyedtea]

You've already admitted to all of us that you did, you liar.

[specialyellthing]

… Goldie’s right.

[visiblepattern]

I told you that I stayed out later than usual. Not that I ventured out at some hideous time of the night.

What am I supposed to do, return to my room at six o'clock every Thursday evening to avoid a technicality?

[capreelcious]

What about your shoulder then, huh? It looked real tense just then, Axolotl.

[visiblepattern]

Perhaps so.

[He doesn't really seem inclined to say much else about it.]

[howveryglib]

...

Please. Do not make this more difficult than it already is.

[prove them wrong somehow at least--]

[capreelcious]

Ehhh? What's that answer? You could at least try to give us an excuse.

[ Floyd is tired. And annoyed. And that usually translates to impatience for him. ]

Or is it hard to cover up the fact you were hoisting a big mace?

[visiblepattern]

[He's got you, babe.]

[sastruga]

[Excuse, what is happening over there--]

What kind of marks?

[inaclearing]

Like...well, like I said, like the lace things on the corset were too tight.

[Which...he doesn't like it, but he also doesn't entirely know what to make of it either. Not exactly the kind of injury he had in mind.]

[sastruga]

...Was it on too tight?

[inaclearing]

That side was tighter than the other one? I don't - this is the first time I've ever really seen one of those up close.

[People don't wear them anymore and also his experience with traditionally feminine clothes is a little limited for multiple reasons!]

[sastruga]

One would think someone like Forrest, who wears them regularly, would know exactly how to put them on without being too tight or too lose.

...Having marks like that... tying one side tighter than the other... That seems odd to me.