SIXTH TRIAL

[bathymetric]

Alright, same as every week before this - gather at the Vault Door so my Assistant can let you in. And I can start hoping to salvage at least the aquarium.

[ The Assistant, nee Failsafe, stands in her armor at the ready when you arrive, not saying a word and simply unlocking the door and elevator for you to head on down to the trial room. Second verse, same as the first five verses, but a whole lot quieter and a whole lot meaner.

The elevator is a lot emptier now, isn't it? Your number has fallen yet again since the last time you were here. Feels like yesterday, or maybe forever ago? Time's feeling pretty weird right about now, but trial days are for getting locked into the moment. You're here, you're present.

You're running out of allies.

The screens are the same as ever, though, and lower as you enter. ]

I see you haven't decided to continue to increase the number of bodies this week. Perhaps something to be thankful for, in all of this. Hotshot is dead, and the responsibility of finding his killer falls to you. Hopefully this is all old hat to you by now, no?

[The screens rise.

Welcome to your sixth trial. ]

Comments

[bolderfell]

We don't see the scorch marks anywhere but the garden, and we don't know what exactly caused the massive damage between the main part of the museum and the weapon show. Could an explosive have done that?

[blackmass]

An explosive would leave shrapnel, especially considering the high likelihood one would have to be improvised in a place like this.

[bolderfell]

...Then all I can think of is a powerful blow.

[blackmass]

I would be more inclined to think the explosion based in someone's powers, all things considered.

[fivestagegod]

We're assuming that Vincent was just...leaking corrisive, I guess, and there were no wounds on the culprit.

Since we're just finding out all sorts of fun shit about each other today, I don't suppose anyone here bleeds corrosive when their powers are on.

[blackmass]

That would be ridiculous.

[fivestagegod]

Tell that to the subjects I've worked with that like to bleed acid all over the place.

[bolderfell]

...How do they not eat through their own bodies.

[This is almost as horrifying as germ theory, thanks!]

[fivestagegod]

...This is really not a conversation for polite company.

[LIKE. DO WE REALLY WANT HIM DERAILING THIS TRIAL WITH SHIT THAT WILL ENSURE YOU NEVER SLEEP AGAIN.]

[bolderfell]

All right. So that's a possibility, apparently. Has anyone else heard of that in their worlds?

[nothingcanstop]

[ ... ]

Angel was leaking those radioactive rocks when the Professor nabbed her. I think we should be careful, just what we call ridiculous.

Mods?

[bolderfell]

[Actually, while we're talking about ACID BLOOD, Therion will open that bag of corroded material he took and sniff at it. Was that sharp, metallic smell it had the scent of blood?]

[bathymetric]

[ Not exactly? It's not dissimilar, but it's not blood. ]

[bolderfell]

It doesn't... quite smell like blood. No damn idea what this is. Hey, Birkin, you wouldn't know the smell of that corrosive blood you were talking about, would you?

[fivestagegod]

...I hate that this is a question you're asking me. I...do, yeah.

[bolderfell]

You mind?

[He waggles the bag of melted rocks at him, then walks over to hand them off, if Birkin chooses to accept this mission.]

[bolderfell]

Huh.

[He closes his eyes, thinking back on what he saw.]

Nothing was burned, as far as I remember. It just seemed like something burst there, closer to the floor than the walls or ceilings.

[blackmass]

In other words, a concussive force instead of a true explosion.

[bolderfell]

There was nothing left behind to hint at what it was.