Final Investigation

[bathymetric]

Good morning, New Rapture. You may yet see the sun today.

But before that, there's work to be done. The Mayor has sent you some sort of ultimatum, though as usual was reluctant to explain herself. You're going to meet her, to some end? It's unclear. But one way or another, you're aware that things are ending today. Spirits may be low, but at least there's that. After a night of bowling, you're probably ready for this.

As you wake in the morning, though, each suite will find something unexpected in the common area, something that absolutely wasn't there last night: an envelope, addressed to the surviving members. An attached note on the outside reads as follows:

Good morning, citizens of New Rapture. In accordance with new directives from Designations: Misfire, Space Dandy, et al. I have been asked to deliver this. Please use the included to lift your spirits, and feel free to use your new bathysphere access to gain what information you can before you face the Mayor. You know what the key does, I gather, and the card will grant you access to Fontaine Futuristics Headquarters, where the Mayor currently resides. If you do not gather information properly, you will be unable to do what she is about to ask of you. Your friends will be watching.

Included in each envelope is a silver key, a limited Hall of the Founders bathysphere access card, and a copy of this letter. Your friends are counting on you. Go rally in the Hall of the Founders and get ready.

It's time for one last investigation.

Comments

[sastruga]

That's... not...

[Her mom isn't...

...

No. No, that isn't important right now. She'll leave this be, for the moment. Let's take a look in that voice diary folder...]

[bathymetric]

[ We're all having a normal mental health day here.

There are five recordings in here, all recorded, by comparing the "Recorded X weeks ago" info on them, within the first few weeks of the murdergame. ]

And we’re off. Mayor Fontaine and Eleanor Lamb are the names on everyone’s lips, and yet so few of them have kind words for us. Big fan of Penelope, though. Girl’s going places. Technically she’s already been to them. Oh well.

Time to give them the same thing Gunnar learned to give his lot. One week to sweat it out, then hit them with a motive. It’s not exactly going to be hard.

You could have made Founders out of them in no time, couldn’t you, Frank? You old bastard.

— — —

And little mister kill-the-world-for-his-girlfriend is the first one to crack. Not the first target from this motive, but that’s what we’re doing this for, right? The surprise? The shock and awe? And hey, better this than Manfred shooting Sitwell and being a bitch about it for five hours.

— — —

Poor, poor Penelope. I was really rooting for her there. Amazing how much longer these things take when you don’t have two years of simmering resentment from being forced into being coworkers to drive you to demand everyone start stripping and getting into fights, hm? No wonder we devolved straight into violence. Well, it was what it was. But man, this must really be working if I could throw Jobu’s gaydar off that much, hm? I really have them going. “Oh, my bunko! Ah, my hep cat something something!”

— — —

They’re really going at it, aren’t they? I love a simple sad man like Vholran. Amazing how a little dash of classism can change the flavor of psychopathy. Sometimes it’s refreshing to play old games, you know? Just with a sword instead of guns. And to think there was a time when I was going to give all of this up.

[ There’s a contemplative silence, then the Mayor turns the recording off. She only makes one more. ]

— — —

The day I decided to kill Frank Fontaine was long before he actually bothered to betray all of us and send us down the river. Or… deep water current. It was a meeting with him, like so many others, and I looked into his eyes. I did my research on him. I did my research on everyone. And that’s the day I realized he was counting on that. But it was too late. The bastard had all of us. And this was a hell no one would say we didn’t deserve.

[sastruga]

[...Cool, cool, cool. She'll figure out how to unpack all of that in a second.

Also just because she'd try it out -- if she opens up some of that audio editing software, is she gonna see anything neat?]

[bathymetric]

[ Well, Mafuyu, you're the only one who could do this, but! There's a vocal filter for the distortion the Mayor puts over her voice, and you now have unfettered access to the Frank Fontaine utau. ]

[sastruga]

[..........]

...Mielle. Do you want to make Fontaine say anything?

[honeyedtea]

. . . Make him say something quite rude about his own hairline.

[ LIKE TO SLAP HIS BALD HEAD REBLOG TO SLAP HIS BALD HEAD ]

[sastruga]

...Okay.

[She uses her newfound power wisely. To make the Fontaine utau speak for her.

"My name is Frank Fontaine and the real cause of death for New Rapture's residents was having to witness my bare scalp."]

[honeyedtea]

Pff–

[ This really isn't the time to laugh, but there she goes giggling. ]

And– perhaps something about his horrid cigar habit, too?

[sastruga]

["My name is Frank Fontaine and I am a living reminder not to smoke, kids."]