The past several weekends have been an unrelenting barrage of death in particularly disturbing manners; either the method or the number of people, sometimes both, have been particularly extreme. This week has seen fewer dead than the last; however, the way that that one kill seems to have happened...
It's not a particularly good tradeoff.
Either way, however, expectations still need to be met and investigations still need to be carried out; once the allotted time has passed, those doors in the center of the second corridor slide open once again, the sight managing to be at the same time familiar and unwelcoming. The fluorescent overhead lights of the operating theater beam down, flooding the room with bright and steady light as soon as the first person walks in; the seats surrounding the podium circle in the center of the room remain as empty as ever. Four more are gone, their absence notated by their portraits joining the others in watching the proceedings through greyed-out and unseeing eyes, Kogami, Madison, Sakura Matou, and Osomatsu's podiums all draped in black.
Once everyone has found their place in the circle, the public-address system comes to life once again in a light crackle of static; the Transmitter can be heard throughout the room shortly thereafter.
"Fraternal is dead. You guys...you know what to do. Put together what you've found and try to seek out the guilty. You know what'll happen if you can't.
Good luck."
Eleven Patients remain. We'll see how many leave at the end of the day.
[Okay, the trial is starting. It's a particularly vexing murder, that's for sure. May as well start]
So...there was a fire, so I went to check the storage room. There were matches missing. And someone also broke many, many bottles of rum there. Without the rum, I mean.
If you want to make a fire, you need fuel. Rum has a large content of alcohol, it'd be--that'd be good enough. You can light up the rum. I think. I haven't seen it myself, but it makes sense, right?
Perhaps it's because he was ordinary. Because he'd survived so long. Because he still had some measure of hope and held on for love of his family, in a place like this.
Sounds possible. Was Matsuno a fan of rum, does anyone know? I spend a lot of my time in the bar but I'm not there all the time; never had him come by while I was working the bar.
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So...there was a fire, so I went to check the storage room. There were matches missing. And someone also broke many, many bottles of rum there. Without the rum, I mean.
If you want to make a fire, you need fuel. Rum has a large content of alcohol, it'd be--that'd be good enough. You can light up the rum. I think. I haven't seen it myself, but it makes sense, right?
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[ She takes a sip from a tall glass. ]
But someone did leave out one bottle and most of a glass of it.
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[ Osomatsu was a coward, if he's putting it bluntly. ]
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[ Except he's no Corrin, so what's up with that? ]
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It ain't something most people here would do. Not when half the rooms are in disrepair.
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[ Thank goodness Wheatley was the one who investigated there then. Teamwork! ]
But wouldn't that ruin shoes? If that bad, maybe culprit has glass bits on their shoes. That stuff flies everywhere.
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[And there's a catherd post where that could be proposed, so onwards Wheatley goes to do that]