trustfelled | Take Responsibility.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He shrugs. ]

It ain't something most people here would do. Not when half the rooms are in disrepair.

The bar isn't, though, if that's where he was going.

QQ didn't see any signs he could have gone in other rooms. [ Besides the obvious one. ] Did anyone?

There were drops of blood in the entrance of the sewing room, leading from the infirmary.

And a bloody dagger on the floor. [ He pulls out an azoth dagger that he wrapped in cloth. ]