productions | graveyard

the theatre

You awaken in a darkened theatre.

In front of you is an enormous cinema screen. On it plays everything that's currently happening in the castle, accompanied by appropriate sound effects and background instrumentals when fitting. The seat you're sitting on is large and plush, and while there's many of them, there's enough room in the theatre for you to fully recline the seat into a comfortable bed if you wish. Under each seat is a sleeping mask and noise-cancelling headphones, in case you'd like to take a break from watching the show.

Follow the stairs up and you'll reach what should be the projection room. There are no projectors in here, however; it is simply a large and well-lit room above the main seating area, and a good place to hang out with your fellow eliminated contestants if shouting at each other across the aisles proves too much to handle.

If you leave the theatre through the door in the back, you'll find yourself in a hall. On one end is a concession stand. It's stocked with standard movie snacks - popcorn, candy and the like - but if you're feeling the urge for something else, you'll be able to find it stocked somewhere in the back. On the other end is a table with thirty wrapped bags and a placard reading 'A star for our stars! Please accept these lovely giftbags as a token of appreciation for your hard work, sponsored by [illegible smudge]'. Each bag has a tag bearing the name of someone in the mansion; you will only be able to open the bag with your name on it. As soon as you open it, any memories that have been taken from you, including those of the other people in the mansion that you may have forgotten, will be returned in their entirety. Within the bag are also objects from your home that you may want for your stay here, though you will find no weapons.

Past the hall is another door, this one wooden and seemingly decayed. If you go inside, you'll find a fairly simple, wooden room, that is empty except for a very large machine. It is difficult to tell what the machine is for; it has a touch screen that appears to be a control panel, as well as a large open space that seems to be part of the machine, but the machine is dead and won't turn on no matter what you do.

Still, at least you aren't alone here. You have your fellow players, as well as a few guests to keep you company.

Oh, and one more thing. At midnight following each execution, once all those who've died that week have woken up, a video will begin to play on screen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Some time passes while affiliates of various killer cliques in which Kuzuryuu has been involved affirm that they still exist, still love him, and are safe for the time being, just like the hostages. Apparently the consensus has been to shock him in several separate slightly gentler jolts. Kanaya is ready to provide the first sighting of an outright stranger, with a special ingredient to make the swallow a little sweeter: Sour patch kids.]

Hey, I'm Kanaya Maryam, that friend of Feferi's. [Designated killers tell each other everything this season, she's sure her reputation at least patially precedes her]

[...gold star for trying, Kanaya, but Kuzuryuu can't handle sour things for vague, unexplained canonical reasons. He will at least be polite and take them without comment though.]

You don't say? Shit, I never would've guessed it was you. [He's clearly trying to be jokingly sarcastic here. Don't hold it against him too much, he's just messing with you, Kanaya.] So tell me then, Maryam, how long have we got till "the time is right?"

I keep saying "soon" because I get a kick out of being mysterious but in all seriousness we're on the order of seven days or so at this point. Nobody likes the number of weeks to get into double digits, it ruins the alphabetization schemata everywhere.

Shit, I got here just in time then. That's barely enough time to even get used to this place. [It seems...somewhat claustrophobic. God, how have you guys dealt with being stuck here so long?] So what exactly happens in seven days or so? Or is that part of the mystery too?

[IT WASN'T SO BAD WHEN THEY WERE THE ONLY PEOPLE HERE...]

Of course it's part of the mystery - do you think we'd all be together on such a nice set if we were off camera? Drama is a non-renewable resource. I'm frankly surprised it took you so long with the utterly undisguised pattern of sponsorships for the first five weeks.

[She glances at Peko, very deliberately, before returning to Fuyuhiko with measured calmness.] You had better be very grateful for that sword of yours.

Hey, I got the pattern! I just...assumed the wrong thing about it... [He thought the audience was voting for people they felt sorry for...or something. BECAUSE DEAD IS DEAD. Look, he at least gets half credit for noticing the pattern, even if he attributed it to the completely wrong source.]

[He follows her deliberate glance with his own eye, though he has to turn his head a little to actually see Peko.]

'course I'm grateful. Why wouldn't I be?

I don't know. The yakuza way of life is very... [She pauses, and makes a taxing diplomatic effort to form the right word around her fangs.] Difficult to understand from the outside.

I've been making an effort, but the merit of designating certain members as non-persons or "tools" still escapes me.

[Peko makes it sound like Fuyuhiko isn't the person to hold this against, sure, but her testimony about his character is not necessarily to be trusted given their situation.]

[That actually prompts a scowl out of Kuzuryuu. He thought the fact that he didn't agree with the whole tool thing was obvious to everyone before Peko was even executed. He hadn't exactly hidden his disdain for it whenever the subject was broached. He'd even straight up told Austria he found the practice deplorable.]

If you're lookin' for somebody to make a case for that, you came to the wrong guy. People aren't tools.

[There is no merit to that system, in his opinion.]

[Her eyebrows rise. She hasn't been able to pluck them for weeks. She sees herself in the mirrors through the same thin layer of gauze that covers her entire epidermis when she has to interact with these people who are each other's comrades, the co-stars she has to help from behind a thick wall of glass and secrets. Developing attachments is so dangerous at this stage for an interloper. They're not her own companions, the ones who had coaxed her out of the original kid glove cocoon from which she emerged a reality television star. The gist of all these elaborate metaphors is that through the barrier between herself and Kuzuryuu, she hears what she wants to hear, and "there's nothing I could do about my position" is an unreliable argument in her experience.]

That's a compelling semantic statement which you have to know by now has very little immediate effect upon the situation at hand. We've reiterated that message for weeks like bullets into an armored vehicle. What do you intend to do? [Actions speak louder than words, Mr. Kuzuryuu.]

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