Locked Rooms (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guillotineroom) wrote2022-06-11 11:42 pm
guillotineroom) wrote2022-06-11 11:42 pm
Entry tags:
Tarot memory share [Kraken]
The room you enter this time is an ostentatious fortune tellers tent. Colourful silks drape the walls with intricate golden constellations embroidered on the ceiling. Various crystals, candles, magic 8 balls, and other superstitious sundries are scattered throughout the tent.
In the centre of the room is a table with ten chairs around it, and three cards laid out for you:
FORTUNE, JUSTICE, HERMIT
[ RULES | TURN-IN ]
In the centre of the room is a table with ten chairs around it, and three cards laid out for you:
FORTUNE, JUSTICE, HERMIT
[ RULES | TURN-IN ]
TURN IN
JUSTICE
GUARD: Both of you may go in now.
GIRL WITH DRAGON TAIL: Thank you. Let's go, ######.
######: [V], I still don't know… Where are we? Who are these people?
[V]: We're in the Hall of Justice of the Lumopolis Gardens. The lady on stage with the staff should be Chief Judge [I]. And the stoic man next to her...
#####: Oh, I remember, that's [C]'s father, right?
[V]: Yes, that's the Lord of Lumopolis, [S].
#####: I'm shuddering for some reason...
[V]: Shhh...
#####: ...
[S]: You're Captain [C]'s companions, I presume?
[V]: Uh, yes. How do you do, my lord. I'm [V], from the Illumina Federation. This is #####.
#####: How do you do, I'm #####.
[S]: Pleased to meet you. I understand you delayed the enemy's assault and fought valiantly to be a key part in defending the city. I shall express my gratitude to you both.
[V]: It's our honor, sir. We only did what we were supposed to do.
[S]: How are you recuperating from your injuries?
[V]: Thanks to the doctors you sent to us, we're feeling much better now.
[S]: Good. Lumopolis will never forget that the Illumina Federation sent assistance to alleviate the crisis. Please pass on my appreciation to the people of Illumina on behalf of Lumopolis as well.
[V]: I shall do so, sir.
[S]: Alright. Well then, Chief Judge, you can go ahead and announce the commencement of the court session.
[I]: Yes, My Lord.
[I]: The court is now in session. The party involved please take the stand.
Lumo Guard: Yes!
[a young woman with white hair takes the stand.]
[I]: White Night up high.
On behalf of the Hall of Justice, I shall render the judgment against [C]. [C], incumbent Captain of the Lumopolis Guardians...
Has been found during her tenure to...
Neglect the three-party resolution, force entry into the Control Room with a knight commander as a hostage, and initiate Damocles without authorization.
Which was directly responsible for the failure of the shield, subsequently exposing Lumopolis Gardens and Courtyard to attacks.
Leading to one hundred and eight wounded nobles and countless servants injured or dead, plus an immeasurable loss of property.
These actions have violated the laws of Lumopolis and must be punished accordingly.
However, in consideration of her effort in driving off the invaders, the Hall of Justice has decided to suspend [C] from duty for 1 year...
[O]: What? How ridiculous! How could you arrive at such an absurd verdict!?
[I]: ...
[O]: What she did was a blatant disregard for the lives of all nobles in Lumopolis! She only got lucky this time! If we let her off with just a slap on the wrist, who knows what she'll do next time? You're not in cahoots with the Hall to protect your daughter, are you, [S]?
[S]: Do you question the Chief Judge's verdict, [O] Troy? That is unbefitting of a noble.
[O]: Hmph!
[S]: Please continue, Your Honor.
[I]: The Hall of Justice has decided to suspend [C] from duty for 1 year. In the interim, she must uncover the truth behind the incursion and provide a satisfactory finding to the nobles.
If she cannot, we shall strip [C] of her post, title… and residency in Lumopolis. White Night up high. May the Light bless all in Lumopolis.
The Crowd: White Night up high.
HERMIT
Day 6,055.
"Primary Control... normal"
"Biological modules... in hibernation."
"Life support... operational. Current capacity: 1 person."
"Generator... normal. Attempting to start..."
(8%... 3%... 1%...)
"Failed to start. Failure Count: 3921."
"Power level below normal. 7% remaining."
"Maintaining energy-saving mode."
"Please sign and confirm."
#####: ⬛⬛⬛⬛...?
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Yes, #####.
#####: Anything out of the ordinary in the periphery?
⬛⬛⬛⬛: There are weak signals approaching, perhaps another horde of (BLANK), as usual.
#####: Forget it then. I want to try restarting again.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: I must deny the request, #####.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: There have been simply too many attempts, and it is affecting your mental state...
#####: But we're almost out of power, and we must find a way out!
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Keeping you alive and safe is my top priority.
#####: We'll be dead when the power runs out!
⬛⬛⬛⬛: If there's a will then there's a way.
#####: It's been 17 years. If there was a way, we would have been out by now.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Sorry, #####, it is too risky to continue trying to restart. Please calm yourself first.
#####: Have you gotten a hold of them?
⬛⬛⬛⬛: The chances of contacting other (BLANK) are miniscule, but I will try again.
#####: If we can reach them, we'll be able to...
⬛⬛⬛⬛: According to my calculations, the odds of us leaving here without a functioning generator are close to zero.
#####: ...
⬛⬛⬛⬛: This is a test, #####. Only by honing your will in solitude can you become strong.
#####: Enough with the lecture, please. My ears can't take it anymore.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Do you wish to hear the history of the continent once more?
#####: Heard that 192 times already.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Battlefield commands?
#####: 246 times. Then again, I can't do that being cooped up in here.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Sorry, #####. I was only trying to cheer you up.
#####: ...
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Did you have that dream again?
#####: Yes.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Dreams are the visualization of the unknown brought upon by the mind. They are illusions. You have a penchant for overstating this psychological phenomenon, also known as...
#####: It's been 17 years, and I'm still not used to how you talk, Professor ⬛⬛⬛⬛.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: I am simply emphasizing that it is but a dream and does not reflect reality.
#####: But it was too real to be a dream. It was as though I was in Eraveil, experiencing the invasion in person… I could even feel their pain.
⬛⬛⬛⬛: Memories are always associated with emotions, and the truth gets distorted. The reality is that you are alive, and it is my duty to keep it that way.
#####: There you go again...
FORTUNE
They meet in a decrepit, abandoned warehouse somewhere in the city. He enters through a broken window from above, touching down with only the smallest of stumbles. From amongst the shadows, a taller man steps forth with a slow round of applause that echoes hollowly in the empty building. He wears a strange, three-horned mask and a long cape draped over his dark, tailored suit. The mask covers everything from above the mouth.
"My, that was magnificent. I was right to choose you. You must be blessed to have such luck..."
The shorter of the two tosses something over. A pair of small earrings that glitter briefly from the dim light spilling through.
"There. Take it."
The man catches them easily in one hand. "Oh? But the spoils are supposed to be split equally..."
"I took two things."
The rest goes unsaid: therefore, the earrings are theirs. The men trade words, though what they speak of one cannot seem to recall, only that whatever the shorter one says startles the other. The taller man suddenly brandishes a gun at them, yet they seem unfazed by the sight of it. For a heart-stopping moment, it seems as though the taller one will fire until--
A young, shrill voice pierces the silence, taking them both by surprise. The tall man swivels, and in doing so strays too close to the edge of the rusting walkway and its broken railing.
His foot slips.
He starts to fall.
The shorter man rushes forward, grabbing their hand with one of their own whilst bracing himself with the other. The tall man's gun tumbles and clatters far below. Their other hand continues to desperately clutch the earrings, unwilling to let go.
"Dro-- Drop them," the shorter one gasps. "Drop them and grab my arm!"
"No! This is for his surgery--"
The shorter man vents a frustrated sound. He tries to pull them back up but he cannot bear the weight of a grown man on his own. Their grip slips from the other's.
The man falls with the other's thin, silk glove clutched in their hand. The one above flinches from the moment of impact, turning away with his eyes squeezed shut. He hears shouts of alarm and rapid footsteps approaching. He has to leave before they find him.
But as he throws one last look at the unmoving body below, his stomach twists. No, he can't leave them like that.
He aims carefully with a gun of his own and fires it. Something small strikes the mask off their face and it spins off into the shadows, just before a young boy rushes up to the body and begins wailing.
"Papa! Papa!!"
Forcing down the urge to retch, he picks himself up, turns and flees out the same window he came through.
"When the nightmare is gone, the bad horse will leave his head," he mutters to himself, high up where few can touch him. The cold night air numbs him. "But was it worth paying with your life...?"
Stinging tears well up. He dashes them away with a sleeve before they can blind him. Unlike him, the little boy will grow up without ever knowing his father was a thief.