the mastermind meme

[monomods]

 

You asked for it, we're finally giving it to you! Say hello to the mastermind meme!

What does this mean exactly? It means your character is the one responsible for everything! They've been controlling Monobear from the shadows (or maybe they have an assistant to help them, possibly even one of your classmates!), they've been putting forth the motives, running the trials, all of it! And now they've finally chosen to reveal themselves and their true motives.

What are their motives? Why do they want to spread despair? Are they somehow connected to the late Junko Enoshima? And most importantly what is their snazzy Monobear-themed look like? You decide!

Threading reactions is highly encouraged and feel free to AU things up to mix up our current survivor pool as much as you'd like.

Comments

[prefersevilgenius]

Jumba did it for the lulz and because despair goes hand-in-hand with chaos. His new look includes a Monobear-themed Hawaiian shirt.

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[....huh.

Honestly, Veronica was not sure what she was expecting.]

Uh... nice shirt, Jumba. It's almost as tacky as your other one.

[holocast]

...You know, I really shouldn't be surprised, should I?

[Just. Dear lord, he has no idea how he's alive but thanks to the magic of Psychotic Alien Science, here he is and blessed Arceus, he's facepalming already.]

Both that you're behind all this, and that you're actually wearing that wretched shirt.

[yourpiecenow]

You put my fucking hand on backwards.

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Following her bloody execution, Veronica was taken deep down into the bowels of Jabberwock island. Surprisingly, her organs had actually survived the explosion, and every part of her was still whole, despite being removed from her body.

Dying had been her plan all along of course. Why else would she have done it?

Of course, it had been all too simple for her to pick out the right host for the job. Sam had already proven himself to be an abomination. What was stopping anyone from just killing him and doing whatever she pleased after that? Course, right now she was being put back together for her real purpose: to become the new shsl despair.

She was repaired quite haphazardly by the looks of her, blood trickled from a few stitches but she didn't seem to notice or even care.

It was a simple lesson for her to learn during her time on the island. While a quick and painless death is best like she always believed, leading people to want that death to come to them is even better, and making them wait, was even better.

Her old cloak has been disregarded entirely now, it's likely you've seen it in a trash bin somewhere. Instead, she's decked out in a formal red and black suit, lined with bits of white. Her new jacket has the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing many more of the girl's gruesome scars, and had been left unbuttoned showing the bright red undershirt. A monobear button and stop button are pinned to the brim of her fedora, and a monobear tie hangs loosely around her neck. She's been put back together following her execution by the hands of the previous mastermind so her terribly scarred skin is highlighted, of course, by bright red surgical thread. She'd look almost classy if it wasn't for the fact that she was basically a living corpse.

All of her clothes share the distinction of already having been stained by pink blood. Whether it was hers or that of someone else was hard to tell.

There was probably someone that expected her, but did they expect her like this? Of course they didn't, they trusted her. They thought that this girl would be different.

They were wrong. She was here once again, staring down all the people that were once her friends. She knew, somewhere in her mind, that they would probably try to kill her for this. But how could they kill someone that was already dead?]

[voidedrogue]

[ Roxy stares baffled at Veronica. Oh, man, what the fuck. She feels dumb for not suspecting the other girl to be this, but. Who could have known? ]

You look like shit.

[ It's all she can think to say, when Veronica reappears alive. Er, undead? Whatever, fuck it, who even knows what's happening at this point. ]

heeere we go~

[suncrushed]

[Juniper had seen her girlfriend's execution; of course, she had, how could she not? Monobear was so persistent on that: the remaining students watch their convicted classmate be killed before their very eyes, and no matter how loath they were, they could do nothing but watch. Of course, this execution had hurt the gardener greatly, rendering her to spend inordinate amounts of time mourning in her cottage over the girl's loss.

So, of course, when she sees her... alive and well again, she's initially overjoyed, but it doesn't take her long to realise that something is amiss. It's especially the Monobear merchandise that Veronica's suddenly donning. It's very uncharacteristic of the Veronica that she knows, so she can't help but think this as some sort of prank that the mastermind of this island killing life is playing on her. After all, there's no way that Veronica could be on Monobear's side; she refused to believe it.]

...R-Roni?

[yourpiecenow]

[As my powers grow, yours fade away.

Do you have any idea how much juju you need to not only bring someone back from the dead, and propel them to the higher level of existence that is the Supreme? And starting from the absolute bottom of the ladder-- i.e. being dead? Really, everyone should be impressed. She doesn't understand why everyone is so mad about it. It wasn't like they wouldn't do the same to her.

She's the White Witch, white dress, white hat, white shoes and long, elegant gloves-- all but for the streaks of black and red, the red scarf covering the scar on her throat. And the shawl, like the one she took off Misty's body, all black with a winking Monobear stitched onto the back.

Her cigarette stick is silver and black. But the smoke that comes out of it is red.]

[notahappyending]

Looking good, Madison.

[He says, casually. Well, now, this was actually sort of a surprise. By the way she acted about her friends, he was thinking she couldn't be the one...but it made sense, in a way. He lets out a laugh.]

Hahaha, I can't believe it...we were playing each other, weren't we? Unless that crush you had on me was the real deal.

[awesmazings]

Bet this was the last thing you or anyone else on this island was expecting, huh?

Jimmy did it all because he's obsessed with misery, not quite unlike Junko's rather unhealthy obsession with despair. Everyone on the island were and continue to be his best friends after all, and what better way to show your friendship by spreading such glorious misery? And after all, he can't just let his new friends leave! No, no....they've all been dying, one by one, to live in Miseryville for all eternity so you can be his friend..

Forever.

He wears a bit of a loose fitting black-and-white suit with one tail perpetually untucked, a long tie around his neck to match with a Monobear insignia on the front. Those stark white gloves of his are somehow always pristine, no matter how much blood has stained them in the past. Two long wings stretch out from his shoulder blades with red feathers that occasionally fall off as he moves, but they never seem to disappear completely. They might be the only thing indicative of his true emotions...and even then you really just don't know.

Oh, and those friendship bracelets you've all been wearing? Try imagining them being used as snappy garottes, the perfect weapon that has been showing up in nearly every case since the murder game began.

[yourpiecenow]

[This hurts.

More than Roni. More than Sam even, this hurts. Her arm is pressed against her chest, hand covering her bracelet. She's not taking it off-- but, that's only because she's worried what he would do with it if she did.

She's worried about Jimmy. Not for, about. Fuck this crazy world.]

So, what? You just drag us all to Hell with you? That's your big plan?

[notahappyending]

[He blinks. Of course, this doesn't hurt at all. Jimmy never meant that much to him anyways. But still, Jimmy? Jimmy trapped him and the rest here? Wow, he really didn't give as much credit to him as he should have.]

[He claps his hands. Applause for you, Jimmy! From one monster to another.]

Never thought you'd have it in you, you know.

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Veronica was... dumbstruck.

She could literally not think of anything to say, so instead, she just stood there looking extremely confused.]

...

[voidedrogue]

[ w h a t

Confusion is Roxy's main emotion. Why? What? How??

Her secondary one is definitely misery. Jimmy, of all people. The positive sunflower amidst their garden of weeds.

The misery and confusion leave no room for the anger she should probably feel, that she wants to be feeling. She wants to deck the little liar in the face, but. She can't. She just can't. Maybe it's because she, in some small way, understands wanting to have friends around. Though having your friends kill each other so they can go to some hell planet forever is JUST A BIT EXTREME, JIMMY.

Instead she fiddles with her friendship bracelet like it burns her wrist, but not daring to take it off. ]

Well, fuck.

[ WHAT CAN EVEN BE SAID ]

[holocast]

...So that's it, then.

[Lysandre probably should be surprised - that Jimmy's betrayal should sting, that it should cut him, that he should be angry at being lied to and angrier still at being manipulated, but if any of that is registering in his mind, it isn't showing in his expression. His features remain impassive, though perhaps carefully so; the coldness spreading through his body is deliberately inflicted.

He has to wonder if the boy can tell; he supposes it doesn't matter.]

Of all people, mon cher, I had hoped that it wouldn't be you we were facing here today.

[notahappyending]

Two faces. He's always had them from the very beginning, though he only showed one. Now, you get to see them both in all of their glory.

His right side is still human shaped, his expression twisted into a sad frown, as if ready to cry over the atrocities he is willing to commit. His left side, though, is a different matter - his hair on that side whips and curls lazily on its own, as if alive, and his skin is dark as night. His left eye is as yellow as the devil's and his grin is sick as sick can be- occasionally, you can even see eyes open on his left hand, blinking lazily before sinking back into the flesh.

A literal Two-Face, dressed in a well-fitted suit that also splits down the middle, dividing white and black. His tie and his shoes (still sneakers, he's not all class) are as red as blood. Why shouldn't he put on this little game? Humans are jokes to him, little insignificant insects that use words like "love" and "hope" to cover up their true nature. He's doing this for sadistic purposes, of course, but meanwhile, he tries to resurrect the victims of his game, trying to find a way to bring back his dear deceased sister without consequences...

However, so far? All of his experiments have been for naught, for all he has created out of your dead friends are hideous, violent monsters.

Just like him, really.

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Veronica's back was to a literal wall. She griped her remaining sword in one hand, and her other hand was somewhere else entirely. Sam's experiments on her had been.... bad to say the least. She'd been turned completely violent by Sam's hands, sewn back together but left a real monster.

The sad things was, she retained a small bit of herself still. Call it Madaraki ingenuity, but she remembered how much she hated Sam.

She glared at Sam. Hard to do little else.]

[mirage_diver]

Somewhere, someone hecked up. That's all it boils down to.

Everyone was picked with the utmost care. Scientists the likes of which his world had never seen in Lysandre, Maya, Heloise, and Jumba. Masters of magical powers like John, Roxy, Aradia, and Madison. Folks meant to remind him of his old failures - Page, Juniper, even Dahlia and Irisu. Someone upbeat to keep them all going instead of falling apart, that was where Jimmy came in. Someone to keep order, that was what Fransizka, Veronica and Coulson were for. Someone to disrupt that order occasionally - Archer, though Uuji would work in a pinch as well. Even Sam could be useful, if the only way to do what he wanted to was to appeal to a darker power.

Why else would Locke want other people dead, unless it was to try to research ways to bring them back to life?

That's why the murder games started. It was easy enough to convincingly become Monobear - he wasn't much different from someone else Locke knew, at the end of the day. It was even easier to write himself out; after all, nobody would suspect the person stupid enough to "attack" Monobear head-on.

It might come as some surprise that Locke's outfit has no two-toned Mono-motif to it; no, instead, he's sporting something even more garish than normal, though his face remains blissfully free of clown makeup.

But they had found him out, and he was no closer to the goal of bringing Rachel back to life. Someone hecked up.

[notahappyending]

You look really ugly, you know that, Locke?

[Says Sam, giving a casual shrug as if this was a thing he had seen every single day of his life.]

I mean, get rid of the makeup, it really doesn't bring out your eyes.

[sweetlynasty]

There is no Mastermind Heloise. THERE IS ONLY JIMMY.
But of course, where would he be without his girlfriend and right-hand woman? Pulling off something like this would probably be a lot more difficult without a trusted mad scientist on board to assist. She'd built the Monobeasts practically in her sleep.

And much like Jimmy himself, Heloise in reality is not quite as human as she initially, deceptively appeared. Her true form is a red-skinned, clawed, horned, and sharp-toothed snake-like demon.
Still, in the end she was hardly the real brains behind this revolutionary new Misery Inc. project. She was more the hired, but extensively willing and supportive, help.
She couldn't be more proud of the Super High School Level Misery~

[voidedrogue]

[ It's all a game, isn't it? And any good game knows to have more than one boss for it's heroes to bravely defeat (or tragically die trying).

When it seems Monobear is defeated, everyone who died suddenly returns. None of them know how it happens, but it does. It's the miracle ending they hoped for. And with Monobear gone, Jabberwock Island appears to be perfectly safe-- even if they never did find the mastermind.

The next morning, their happily ever after is cut short. The Monocats appear in droves, part robot and part genetically engineered clones, all with Monobear's same black-and-white coloring and cheshire grins that haunt your nightmares. But it was the eyes that should have given them away-- four eyes, similar to a certain logo they've never seen, though the colors are different (and backwards, from Monobears-- red eyes on white, white eyes on black). If they had, they would have found their disc two boss before it was too late. (Though perhaps there is one certain windy blue goober who recognizes the mutant cats' design.)

There is one Monocat that appears to be the biggest, meanest, and leader of the horde. He announces the new rules of the Island of Mutual Killing Game:
1) someone must be murdered each week, or a random lottery will decides who dies.
2) following a murder, an investigation and trial will be held; whoever is voted as culprit will be executed-- no matter whether they are truly guilty or not. if a the true culprit succeeds in surviving the trial, they continue onto the next week, rather than "graduating". that shit's for kiddy games.
3) defeat the Final Boss, and you will receive the Ultimate Reward.

WELCOME TO DISC TWO, MOTHERFUCKERS

What seemed like the end of their hell was only the gateway to a deeper circle of it. And of course, people die all over again. It's always about the killing-- especially when there is vengeance involved. It doesn't matter, in the end. People are selfish, or stupid, or scared, or maybe just plain nuts. When a motherfucker says "kill", they whip out the knifes and drugs and bombs.

It's only at the end of "disc two" that the Mastermind behind it is revealed-- within a vast labyrinth of computers, unusual science equipment, an array of large assault rifles, and Monocats sits Roxy Lalonde, her largest Monocat purring in her lap as she oversees her kingdom of darkness. The Rogue of Despair, if you will. Who knows why or how sixteen-year-old Roxy has become this, but there's no doubt that she has been playing them from the very beginning.

Perhaps, somehow, she heard of this universe with it's SHSL Despair, Junko Enoshima, and the little game that girl played. And then decided it needed much improvement.

Her Rogue's outfit has become a tight white dress with an open-back and a plunging neckline, with her changed logo printed on the front; her hood has turned blood pink and has black-and-white kitty ears attached (they seem almost real-- they are real, they twitch and move with Roxy's own movements); her boots are the same blood pink, with sharp heels that click when she walks; her fingerless gloves in the same shade, her fingers covered in gold rings each with her heroes' names on them.

But there is no mask. She has always meant for her game to lead here, for her heroes to find her out and attempt to defeat her within her own fortress. Despair and the pitch black of the void will win here, no matter the outcome.

If they defeat her, they still live with the fact that one of their own-- one of their friends-- has been behind this the whole time, a cat's grin on her face behind every sweet-meaning joke. And how can they trust anyone when even an immature girl with a power for cubes can do all this?

If she defeats them, well-- what's more despairing than the heroes banding together against the big bad cat and losing, in spite of all their grandiose speeches and cheers of hope? Why, it's absolutely fucking delightful! ]

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[The executions and murders had gone on long enough for Veronica. All the weeks of death, all the falsely accused and the rightfully scared. She'd done a lot to get to this point, she'd actually murdered twice and managed to cover it up both times, and she was damn well going to make it all pay off.

Roxy would be sure that someone was on their way long before Veronica actually appeared. Sounds of destruction from far in the labyrinth echoed all the way to the rouge of despair. Computers were smashed, bombs were set off, rifles were snapped in half, there was a monster on the way.

And when said monster finally revealed herself, she pointed a bloody, dripping blade at the girl and said only two words.]

You... bitch.

[holocast]

Tonight, the elevator doesn't stop on its usual floor.

The more astute may realize there's something wrong immediately - that you've been descending a bit too long, that you're disappearing too far down beneath the surface; on the other hand, it may take a moment for you to realize it, because it certainly has been a long day. Surely it's just a trick of your imagination, surely you're just on-edge from the unsettling announcement from Monobear this evening -

Congratulations on nearly finding me - and to reward all your hard work, I've got a special surprise for you bastards! I've heard you wanted a chance to put the Mastermind on trial? Well, you've got it! Don't even think of not showing up - I'll see you in the courtroom!

- and surely, surely, this has to be the end.

But as it stands the elevator is still descending, like you're being dropped into the pits of hell itself, and when the doors finally slide open there's a courtroom and the usual circle of podiums, and visible behind it is a raised dais, the sort usually occupied by Monobear with Monomi bound and hung above.

Usually.

The courtroom is surrounded by machines, the air thick with the heat rising off of them and the ambient whirring and humming of fans and motors that aren't quite silenced; the throne has been replaced by something different, something decidedly more alive - a massive sea serpent coiled around itself like a snake, head raised and large eyes glittering as it watches the others file in, large mouth open, fangs perpetually bared. However, it doesn't seem about to attack, not yet; after all, it hasn't received any commands from its master.

His outfit is unsurprisingly unchanged; why should he alter it any? He's already styled after the god of death; to change it strikes him as tacky, unbecoming. In the end, Monobear was a front, something left to him by a teenaged girl with hairclips and bared cleavage and an embarrassingly short skirt, one of the chosen ones with the power to change the world; the real power is in the mechanical structure behind the dais, behind Gyarados, the tremendous glass cylinder containing the platform and the and the cables and the massive cocoon that he's drawn so often during his time here.

Yveltal sleeps for now; it deserves the rest, after what it's done to Kalos.

And so for now there's only the trial circle, and Gyarados, and Lysandre sitting on the coils Gyarados is forming with its body, the creature itself serving as a more powerful throne than man could ever make. Pyroar lies at his feet, positioning almost idle; his expression is bored, unimpressed, though Lysandre's own doesn't mirror it. Though his expression is often unnaturally blank, despite the conviction in his speech and the pressure behind his words, there's a bright, burning intensity in his eyes, his gaze alive.

He leans forward, folding his forearms over his crossed legs; he supposes it's a shame that it had to come to all this.

After all, whether you realize it or not, he tried so hard to save you.

[mirage_diver]

It's a good thing he'd gotten his frustration out after what had happened to Jumba... and to Archer. After all, he knew right away that there was no way two people pulled the trigger on the same gun, even as Monobear supposedly sent the duo to their "deaths". Plus, having avoided drowning in his own world several times - as well as surviving an almost-lethal jolt here - he knew that being tossed in the ocean was hardly a death sentence, and knew that there'd be no way Monobear would kill off the Pyroar while still leaving all those other pokémon alive. Lysandre never left, and it had been obvious, at least deep down.

Somehow, this was less painful than the first "betrayal".

He says nothing right away, though - he'd expected them to spell out exactly how Jumba's murder happened before he accepted blame, and Locke knows that they'd have to do the same here, or else he'd kill them all. This wasn't a time for silly derails or strip searches, every word counted.

[toheirishuman]

So if John were in any fit mental state right now, he'd probably be over the moon about what this reveal is doing to his Prankster's Gambit. Or at least he would if the Gambit meant anything to him anymore. Really? John Egbert? The harmless little nerd? The Mastermind??? No way!!

Joke's on you, suckers!

You know how doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is basically the definition of insanity? For John, falling into despair was a lot like that. There's only so many times you can fail at trying to stop despair from spreading before you start to realize that the world obiously wants despair. It craves it. And you may as well deliver it, even though spreading it to others does nothing to fill the void it's left in you.

John and Aradia's plan had gone off without a hitch. Despite a few mess ups that had left evidence pointing directly to John, all of his "classmates" had brushed it aside. Because of everyone, surely silly, harmless, easy-going John Egbert would never kill dear, sweet, precious Aradia Megido. In the end, a false conviction had won John his graduation and the right to try and fix things. But little did he know that this would condemn him more than it would free any of them. Watching his "classmates" be executed one by one in front of him had been harder than he'd ever imagined. But he'd made his way through it, telling himself over and over again that it was for their own good. That he'd make it up to them and fix everything. Not just their own game, but all the ones that had come before them.

Take out the source, stop the ripples. Pull the weed up, roots and all.

It would have been nice if it had been that easy. They hadn't counted on the fact that John wouldn't be able to bring others with him when zapping through the timeline. Which meant he couldn't snag a doomed RoboAradia, point, and have her do the killing. Which meant that killing Enoshima at her weakest (a baby because Aradia doesn't fuck around and trolls are Actually Crazy) was basically impossible. Instead, John had tried reasoning with her, which went about as well as one would expect. When that failed, well he just went back a little further and tried then. Maybe convincing a more impressionable Enoshima was the answer.

It wasn't. And the more John tried, the more things started getting out of hand. He'd had to start doing loops with no other purpose than to kill his past selves to try and undo the damage he'd wrought on this universe's poor timeline. It was just as he'd feared: if you fuck around with rule-free time travel too much, eventually nobody knows what's going on anymore. Perhaps the fact that these looped Johns died so easily should have been a sign of what he was already on his way to becoming. After all, there was certainly nothing heroic about any of their deaths.

It took him 39 failed attempts to finally realize that talking wasn't enough. Changing her life circumstances wasn't enough. Despair was quite literally her nature and there was just no reasoning with or changing that. And by that point, he was desperate enough to finally try killing her. He really should have listened to Aradia though. Killing her as a teenager unfortunately did nothing to stop that same terrible future he was trying so hard to prevent. The cogs still moved without her, leading to the same result every single time. Until magic attempt #52: when he was so entrenched in despair that he was finally able to do it Aradia's way.

And that had been the breaking point.

He'd laughed then, high and unhinged, devoid of any elation or humor. He'd saved them all, every last one of them and yet...this wasn't how it was supposed to go. But at least fixing it was easy this time. All it took was one final loop. One loop to undo attempt #52 and then... Well, then he became the very thing he'd set out to stop. He interfered with this universe's timeline one last time after that. One last time, just to ensure that he would be the one to implement round three. Everything outside of his own thoughts went exactly how he'd remembered it, with the obvious exception of the fourth trial. He was the victim this time, and the trial would rule it a suicide.

But that was just smoke and mirrors, of course he wasn't dead. After all, he's standing before you in the courtroom right now, isn't he? The bear is gone now, John never much cared for him anyway. But it felt wrong, like an insult to Queen Junko to just leave him out entirely. And besides, his Lovely Assistant (Mono)Aradia won't talk to anybody else other than him! How could she possibly have run the show in John's stead!

[voidedrogue]

John!

[ At first, Roxy's elated to see him. He was supposed to be dead, they were thinking it was a suicide, but here he was right in front of them. Alive. It takes a few moments for her brain to catch up with her eyes, to understand what she's seeing. She quirks her head to the side, peering at him in confusion.

When it hits her what she's looking at, that John is-- John is the Mastermind, he must be, that's what her eyes are telling her even as her head goes NO WHAT THAT'S ABSURD. All the air seems to be sucked out of the room. ]

You-- why-- what are you wearing?

[ That's not what she meant to say, but. It's a nice suit and all, but those colors really are quite garish and seem really odd on Mr Blue Eyes Blue Breath. ]

[rabbitscoughmed]

[The one truth of the world to Irisu is isolation, but maybe there was a reason for that all along. If all the world is a stage, then she's the spectator. She's the observer. She's the writer.

There's power in isolation, the strongest being Freedom. Nobody could tell you what to do. But you can move them. When you're strong enough, you can rock them.

And in time, this world will be your Wonderland. All Irisu had to do was write the pages of Utopia. This island had merely been yet another chapter in her magnum opus, her case against hope in old humanity.

Roles had been cast. Heroes have been corrupted. Everything beautifully escalated, sometimes beyond the writer's control. All masks had been torn off and everyone acted out their roles splendidly. No doubt with such few people left, the final words of the chapter will be written in blood.

The end of this farce called "reality" is inevitable. Reality is Despair. And Reality will be forcefed its own poison. That's all SHSL Despair amounts to in the end, to deliver it.

Irisu sits on an antique rocking chair in the courtroom. It's a glass room that appears to be suspended in the cosmos. It might feel a little like being inside a giant bird cage. Or maybe suspended at the center of a gem.

Her witch's outfit is colored white and black, monochromatic, and somewhat more regal, flowing. She has all the markings of a noble lady who could only exist in a place like Wonderland. She sat with a tome in her hand. She writes with an ink quill.

A brilliant shadow casts over her. Her face looks as if it's been caved in. Two brimming red moons stare into the pages she's writing in.

Everyone had reached her. As her story requires. She didn't intend on losing. At the brink of their life, she'll show them profound loneliness. She'll drown them in her hate. And she'll claim Utopia, a place where she'll finally be happy.]

[notahappyending]

Hey, little Alice in Wonderland, how long are you going to be up there? Do I need to find a white rabbit to make you notice little old me...?

[He waves up at her, grinning like...well, a Cheshire Cat. We're all mad here, huh?]

Or are you too busy writing?

[suncrushes]

[Court is now in session for the trial of... practically everyone here, really. After all, that had been the purpose of the murder games themselves; to punish the guilty. Though, where was the fun in simply executing those found guilty? There was none. No, no, the true fun came in watching the guilty parties kill each other! After all, murder was a felon, and that in and of itself was another felon added to their name. Another sin; a sin that they wouldn't be able to get rid of! A sin that would have to be punished properly, most definitely.

That was the judge's job, after all. To listen to all sides of the story and pronounce a verdict wisely based on the evidence. What kind of judge would Juniper be if she didn't listen? If she didn't allow every one of the criminals here on this island to try and redeem themselves? To defend themselves. It definitely wouldn't be fair, and justice was something that Juniper valued foremost.

The elevator brings everyone to one of the courtrooms, though it certainly isn't anything like the courtrooms in past trials; the walls are a deep red, the floor black. It certainly holds a more serious, ominous air to it unlike the other elaborate rooms that Monobear had provided. A large judge's bench sits in the middle of the room, and a witness stand right in front of it a few yards away. There's a jury box located to the side, but there's no people sitting in it; no, in their place are thorny roses of various shades: red, black, and white.

In the judge's bench sits a young girl, around the age of eighteen, clutching a gavel and dressed in the judge's course outfit for her legal academy. Though, it's definitely not the same outfit; the alterations are minor. The outfit's logo has changed to that of Monobear's face; the ribbon replaced for a red one. Her gaze is stern as she regards those there in the courtroom, and she only speaks four words. Words that lack emotion as she enunciates them:]

How do you plead?

[Guilty or not guilty. The two possible verdicts of court.]

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[On the way down to the trial room, Veronica was overcome with a sense of dread. She hadn't seen Juniper around for a while, and when they were called to the trial, she still hadn't found her. There was fear slowly growing inside her that maybe another body was going to turn up this week.

And then the doors opened, and Veronica was both relieved and horrified.]

Juni! [Veronica ran into the courtroom and looked up at her girlfriend, strangely sitting in a judge's chair. And what was with those clothes?]

...Wha... what's going on?

[sadisticwarfare]

The elevator doors open to reveal the courtroom. There are very few decorations - banners with Monobear's face on them in a shade of red that looks far too much like blood, if blood here actually appeared red - but the stands are all the same, arranged in a circle with one missing. The missing one has been replaced by a throne set a little ways away from the circle. Seated in that throne is a man who's supposed to be dead for murdering one of their fellow classmates.

Frank Archer's hands are folded in his lap, elbows propped neatly on the armrests of the throne. He's sitting up straight, one leg crossed over the other and he's smirking.

"I'm so glad you all could make it. Admittedly, there were a few of you I believed would live to see this final confrontation - and quite a few I thought would have been picked off long ago - but I suppose that doesn't matter now, does it?"

His demeanor is much different than it was the last time he was seen. He's no longer laughing hysterically or completely manic, instead he's back to the usual self-assured smirk. Archer's outfit has changed, he's no longer wearing the Amestrian military uniform but rather a mockery of it. The uniform is half-white, half-black with Monobear pins replacing the buttons on the front and the emblem at his throat. He doesn't move from his throne, but he does lean on his left hand, still smirking.

"There are so few of you now. Rest assured, when this trial is over, none of you will be left standing!"

[voidedrogue]

[ Roxy takes one look at Archer and deadpans. ]

Fucking really, Colonel Frank?

[timelymaid]

[ The thing about time travel is this: the things that will happen have always already happened. Not walking the path of what is will only lead to a doomed timeline. All it takes is a single person not doing what they're meant to do; a single event not occurring how it's meant to occur. Even if the outcome is better in some way, it is no less doomed. "Better" isn't what defines the Alpha timeline. What defines that timeline is what was always going to occur.

Of course, sometimes doomed timelines were always going to occur. Sometimes they're necessary - looping back from them dooms the player, but, well - how many thousands of Aradiabots had there been by the end of the sgrub session? Every single one of those robotic Aradias had been from a doomed timeline. An ending that couldn't be permitted, which they had looped backwards to fix.

Exactly how many times had Aradia told people over the course of the game that the mutual killings had to be part of a doomed timeline? That they couldn't be permitted to exist? Oh, she'd mostly said it to John and Roxy, of course, but...it had come up once or twice, hadn't it?

Exactly how many times had she lied? Even before the game had started, she'd told half a lie to John.

but i am not nor will i ever be the monsters handmaid
Perhaps that's only a half-lie, though. In the end, Aradia's loyalties are where they have always been: to the alpha timeline, and to completing her role, regardless of the personal costs. Or of the costs to others. She is the Maid of Time, and if time dictates that she must work with the monster she'd spoken of, well. There was no use arguing with paradox space, and Aradia Megido knew that better than anyone. What was going to happen was going to happen. She may as well make the best of it.

For whatever reason, these games are required. For whatever reason, these players are required. The timelines dictate this much to be true, and so Aradia plays the game, quietly, perfectly calm and happy in her interactions with others up to her "death". That was never really required in order for her to manipulate events, however. However many selves she needs, she has. Aradia's Monobears can watch everything even as she moves about freely herself, and they do so as long as that is what time requires of them.

And eventually the truth will come out, won't it? As it was always going to; as she knew it always would. On that day her soulbots are everywhere, because what point is there in hiding them any longer? These are the thousands of Aradiabots who have, under cover of night and time, restocked all the locations around the island since the first day. They are the janitors, the caretakers, and they have cleaned up every murder and every crime scene after the fact, all unseen by the students. They are all committed to one thing: the preservation of the alpha timeline, and all that requires. None of them impede any of the students as they go to Monobear Rock, or enter the elevator. In fact, few of them seem inclined to acknowledge the students at all, though they will defend themselves if attacked.

It shouldn't be terribly surprising who awaits them in the courtroom below, given the soulbots and all the students have likely learned throughout the game.

This courtroom is bright and colorful - nearly garish, really, with neon green accompanying the black and white and red theme that seems requisite. The walls and floor are that green, the ceiling white; the streamers draped all over the room are twists of red and black, as are the clocks. There are many clocks. Standing clocks, hanging clocks, all around the room. All of them counting away the seconds, perfectly in sync. And all of them, upon entrance to the courtroom, will be at the exact same time: thirteen past four.

The most impressive of these clocks sits at the head of the room, across from the elevator. It is gold at times, and purple at others. It changes, every time the pendulum swings. The symbol shown is not that of breath, but rather a white version of time's gear. In front of this particular clock is a delicate crystal chair, reminiscent of a land none of the students - except one, if he managed that particular jump - had ever seen. And in that chair sits Aradia Megido, not so dead after all. Although she had said (repeatedly!) that she was rather done with dying. Gone are the brilliantly red time player's pajamas which she had worn during her time as a student and a player. As the mastermind, as the principal, she wears something else entirely, borrowed from an ancestor not quite in her past. Dark green skirt, bright green shoes and shirt; three buttons, black, white, black. The red aries symbol emblazoned on the right side, over her chest; that isn't rust-blood red any longer, any more than her nail polish or lipstick is. Now her reds are Monobear-red, though she's done away with all the bears. Instead she's flanked by more of her doomed selves, as she sits patiently with her hands clasped in her lap, waiting for the end of this particular loop.

Of course, she probably doesn't see this the same way any of her surviving classmates do. The sweet, calm smile - the same one she'd worn in the game, before "death" - is enough to imply that. And she's said as much before, although she'd been speaking of something else (or had she?).

they consider this to be a great clash between good and evil
but i prefer to look at the coming battle as a matter of housekeeping
in the end all loops must be tidied up
even his
And even hers. Tick tock, heroes. Tick tock. ]

[voidedrogue]

[ Tick tock on the clock but the party don't start till I walk in

Fuckin goddamn typical that the troll ends up being one who caused this all.

Now, Roxy's not a speciesist-- many good times were had laughing it up with Fefeta, who was made up of two dead trolls. But then you have the Batterwitch, or that Serket gal. Roxy knows that trolls have a violent streak right in their DNA, that they're of a different mold than humans. Much like her carapacian neighbors, but very different from them as well. It really shouldn't surprise her that Aradia had some sort of fucked up idea to do all this.

But it does surprise her. Moreover, it hurts. Aradia had been one of the people she was closest to, even if their conversations were never incredibly deep. Roxy trusted Aradia, like she did John and Jimmy. She'd been in the Top Tier of Roxy's ranking of how well she liked people.

Also, the green and red with the black and white is making Roxy think of a funeral at Christmas, and it's fucking with her head a little. ]

So, what the fuck is happening here?

[ It screams SHENANIGANS but Roxy would like an explanation before anything else, of course. ]