Final Trial

[bathymetric]

[ After a long while of investigation in areas that she definitely did not authorize you being in, the Mayor speaks up over the loudspeakers throughout the entire city. She's not using distortion at all, for what it's worth. ]

If you're all done rifling through my past and looting my things, there's a show that we really ought to get on the road, don't you think? Don't worry, I'm not going to come to you. You'll come to me.

[ And, one by one (along with your evidence), every single one of you is teleported into, rather than the underwater dome, a sectioned-off area of the Hall of the Founders. The walls around you are thick glass, and you can see beyond them that the Sparrows have begun restoring the statues. Massive stone renditions of the original Founders of New Rapture surround you, though some are still covered in cloth. A series of podiums have been set for you.

And within your final trial box is another box of frosted glass, ominous before you, just transparent enough to see a figure inside, sitting at a desk, her feet up as she lounges in a rolling office chair. ]

I love the dome, but there's nowhere for me to sit, you know? I was going to reveal this to all of you, it was going to be a whole big thing, but then you woke up early and ran off to do God-knows-what in a bunch of places I didn't need you in! Almost as if someone tipped you off to my plan.

[ Inside the glass case, the figure leans back in the chair further. ]

So you know what? Go ahead and talk amongst yourselves. Air my dirty laundry. Maybe I'll even join in in person. See if you can figure out what happened here, for starters.

[ Welcome to the final trial. ]

Comments

[specialyellthing]

She's just been waitin' to put on her whole evil villain speech...

[bathymetric]

You'd like to submit some answers?

[honeyedtea]

That depends. Do you feel like joining us in the discussion?

[bathymetric]

[ A chuckle. ]

Are you familiar with Choice Theory, Saintess? I don't know if either you or your girlfriend looked at it after you stole my copy of the book from my office, but when he's not being wrong about mental illness, Glasser does manage a truth: every person is fundamentally alone, and the only thing we can really offer to each other is information.

So you're going to have to justify me giving you any.

[honeyedtea]

Very well.

We're far from the first of this sort of "game", aren't we? Its rules and formula was conceived of by you and some of your fellow founders at the behest of Fontaine. And then it was used against you. Am I correct so far?

[bathymetric]

Correct. And fair is fair: the files from my office were the only other games like this I know of. Besides whatever that... Junko Enoshima did while yelling about despair and the end of the human race or whatever.

[honeyedtea]

That raises another question, though. Why were they running these games? After all – according to your very own files none of them remembered this place.

[ She tilts her head. ]

Did they lose the game?

[bathymetric]

You know what's funny about erasing memories? It's a stupid, tricky practice. You can put someone into autopilot pretty easily and keep them from gaining memories, but erasing them, especially if they're memories the person wants? The brain keeps pieces. A memory is stored in so many places - sight, sound, touch... do you know how much of your memory is scent-based?

Those two lost more than anyone else. I made sure of that.

[honeyedtea]

Did they do anything in particular to earn your ire? Or were you just feeling particularly spiteful that day?

[bathymetric]

If you want an answer you have to give me an answer, Miss Roscent.

[inaclearing]

[Well. Brett's sort of terrified of the Mayor, but he was also fairly nervous of Howl when he first went to interview the man. So...interviewer hat on. Do not be a regular person who is talking to his murder-kidnapper; be a voice on a tape and nothing else.]

Is that what happens on Saturdays? Autopilot?

[bathymetric]

Correct. I just have you all go to sleep, mostly, so the Sparrows can do their work. That and, again, it's unsettling, isn't it? Losing a full day every week?

[sastruga]

Was it yours? I didn't see your name on it.

[Pointedly... not giving the girlfriend part attention.]

[bathymetric]

...Really, Marionette? Are we in grade school?

[sastruga]

So says the person who gave us all titles specifically to get under our skin...? "Marionette"... You're ridiculous.

[bathymetric]

Well, yes, that was the main reason for them. An innovation in this whole exercise you have Gunnar to thank. Well, his assistant, technically.

[onemillion]

How exactly is it an innovation? It hardly seems necessary.

[bathymetric]

Oh, Rossiu... surely I don't need to talk to a former citizen of Adai about the value of a little dehumanization? Why you drew lots instead of calling names?

[sastruga]

I got that part from your files.

Hm... "All we have to offer each other is information", huh? I guess that's why you just copied everything from the other games. Is any part of this your own idea?

[specialyellthing]

Poster Girl did seem super bitchy...

[specialyellthing]

[leaning over to whoever will listen--]

They're not even gonna deny it--

[inaclearing]

Haven’t they been dating for like six weeks?

[specialyellthing]

Well, yeah, but I don't think they know it--

[inaclearing]

Really?

[like, he knows, but also come on]

[onemillion]

Precisely. We may as well let her do it and see where we go from there.

[sometimes you just gotta give the villain speech so mood, mayor.]