fifth trial

[stagemanagers]

[When the investigation finishes, the lights begin to flicker on and off as that low, gentle rumble echoes through the opera house.

Your intermission is ending. Please return to your trial room.

The court room looks just as it always has for you: the grand chandelier glittering above your heads, the dusty red velvet seats. In the orchestra pit your circle of wooden podiums are waiting. Jeremy and Steven's podiums are draped in black crepe with their grey scale funerary portraits, just like your friends before them. The ghost light glows softly behind the podiums.

The curtain is closed, waiting to open when a decision has been reached and the execution can commence.

When everyone is in their places, the Phantom's voice echoes loud and clear through the theatre from his place in box 5. His tone is even, with none of the distraction or terse notes in the weeks before. He almost sounds curious for how this all will play out.]

You must now determine who was responsible for the death of Steven Universe. Submit your vote on the podiums when you are certain of your choice.

[Gather your evidence and let's begin.]

Comments

[garbageface]

[ Santana’s back at it again, looking disgusted that she even has to be here and that someone murdered a very nice dude who wasn’t even like five feet tall!

Whatever, time to get started. She sets a bottle of medicinal ether on her podium. ]

Stephen and I found this in the infirmary, and knowing you people, I’m guessing this stuff wasn’t poured down the drain where it belongs. Apparently it causes asphyxiation. Gross.

[musacal]

[ Nana's got two little clear plastic baggies with her, because sorry Steven your pieces are too sharp and she can't just carry you in her hands forever. She places them both down on the podium, so hopefully everyone can see them. ]

In... in the trashcan in the kitchen I found... pieces of a pink gem that was previously Steven's. Like Spinel-san... Whoever did this learned from her murder and made sure to smash it...

[ The fucking trashcan though... just throwing him away... she can't forgive that. ]

But I also found a weird rag in there too. It has pink dust on it and a... strange chemical smell. I bagged it for safety and I don't think it's safe to smell it too closely.

[garbageface]

Maybe the Phantom could smell it for us? If he dies, no big deal, and if he doesn’t, that’s cool too.

[madgiganticfeelings]

Do you think that was used to knock him out so they could... smash his gem?

[37773972]

The trashcan? [That's...not okay.] So were they trying to hide evidence?

[madgiganticfeelings]

[Christine was mostly out of commission the whole investigation, so she doesn't have much to offer besides grief and anger. She narrows her eyes in the Phantom's direction.]

You don't sound too upset this time around. Are you seriously just watching this like it's a game? These are people we love! Why can't we just end this?

[heathencall]

According to him, it's all a necessary evil. One he intends to rectify in the end.

[But maybe more on that later?]

[inside_yourmind]

I am not enjoying this.

[Just because he's not rending his clothes in grief doesn't mean he's having a fun time - and indeed, his affect generally seems pretty neutral.]

cw overdose description

[heathencall]

[Mephisto is here, and he has collected RiRi. As much as he doesn't want the cat to witness death, we need therapy.]

We found him in the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, as if nothing was wrong. He was cold, dead for awhile which only makes sense, considering the kitchen hours. There were no signs of struggle

His lips and nails were blue, and flecks of foam on his lips. There was also blood beneath his nails, but nowhere on his person that might indicate that it was from himself.

[and now for the weird part.]

His stomach was completely smooth. I know most of you humans usually have a navel, so this was... odd. Odder still is that Christine mentioned there was meant to be some sort of gem there. It was missing.

[But the others can get into that.]

[37773972]

Blood? [That catches Stephen's attention] So- that means he fought back against whoever did this, right?

[likemypicture]

[Anne's just kindof looking at all the portraits. Then she sighs, giving Richard's a little pat.]

Does anyone else think these portraits are a little off?


[ANNE THIS IS A MURDER TRIAL. She's got a hammer here- she drops it on the podium]

This was in the storage closet, not where it belongs. Did... [She looks at the people around her. Nana, who had been so brave during the motive, standing up to the phantom, and made sure that they were provided with enough baked goods. Santana, who is everything Anne wishes she had been as a young woman-- and may just be the coolest person in the opera house. Christine, dear, sweet Christine, who has a heart bursting with emotion and a passion for theater. Stephen, who worried so much, but wanted to believe-- who still had laughter and smiles behind that tired exterior. And Mephisto, a demon who had befriended a Catholic, and promised her a better life at the end of this all-- This could only mean.... one thing]

Did The Phantom use it to smash the gem?

[heathencall]

What?

[37773972]

[...glancing...up...towards...the Phantom...]

[madgiganticfeelings]

The Phantom did it? I-I thought the...

[You know what? Anne has the right idea. Christine clenches her fists and nods.]

Yeah! Maybe someone knocked Steven out but the Phantom was the actual killer!

[musacal]

[ ...

She's much in the same boat as Anne. She doesn't see how any of them could have done this, and she DEFINITELY doesn't WANT it to have been any of them. Whom among them would be so callous as to throw Steven into the garbage...?

But she can't help thinking back to her notes with the Phantom yesterday. "He likes you" "but he will not spare your life".

"He wants it to continue to its ultimate conclusion." ]

Or maybe... the patron?

Catherding?

[heathencall]

We're getting sidetracked.

[Mephisto takes a deeeeeep breath.]

The Phantom has confirmed that we are chasing the wrong angle. For right now, we should believe that, and focus on who we have here. I don't want to believe any of us would kill at this point, but this is what we have to go off of.

So far, we have discovered no wounds on anyone else. He was poisoned, presumably by the liquid Santana and Stephen found. His gem was removed and destroyed, possibly by the hammer Anne found.

Let's focus on what we know. We can come back to this logic later.

[garbageface]

There’s also the whole deal with the two mugs. Maybe figuring out who used them will help? Like, maybe whoever had coffee or whatever out of them still has it on their breath, or something.

[ it’s not. an ironclad plan but it’s? something? ]

[musacal]

Looking for grass helped us out last time... would there be a chance of any chemical smell still sticking around...?

after all the... checks...

[musacal]

Okay so... maybe instead we need to think about who would have the knowledge to do this?

Like who would know what the chemicals in the infirmary are and what one to use, and also who would know Steven had a gem that needed to be shattered to kill him?

I figured it out when I saw the gem, but I didn't know beforehand that he had one. And I didn't really go into the infirmary at all.

cw; suicide mention

[37773972]

...should we try to figure out whether or not it was a suicide? With the blood on his nails, and none of us being injured...

2/2

[37773972]

[And now? And now the music swells. As the electric guitar whips in to a frenzy, Stephen seems to be in one, too, stepping- no, leaping on to something and half-climbing atop his podium. Indeed, for someone who was once so disturbed by the music, he seems almost consumed by it now as he half sings, half-screams, throwing out an arm in emphasis-]

I stand before a line in the sand
The beginning's in sight, fate in my hands
Today, we change the end
One step and the future is torn
The road that we walk, it can still be reformed
Today, we change the end...!

[MTB; START]

[heathencall]

[Son of a --

He's putting an arm out in front of Christine if she's still nearby. Holding her back.]

Why?

[likemypicture]

No!

[What the fuck, what the fuck. Anne takes the hammer. And just slams it into -- oh, Tad's there. She smashes it into Richard's podium instead, and lets out a useless wail of a scream.]

VOTING

[inside_yourmind]

[The Phantom has had little reaction to all this talk of time travel and such. Once things seem to be settling a little from the immediate shouting, he speaks up.]

You may now submit your votes.

[37773972]

[It's become more or less clear that this isn't going to work. Wordlessly, he releases Christine's hand and moves to his podium.

>>THE WILLING PAWN

And now...now he lets out another breath, closes his eyes, and just...waits.]

EXECUTION: NEVER GIVE UP, NEVER GIVE UP

[stagemanagers]

[Again, when the lights go down, no one is there to note when exactly Stephen falls away from your number. Is this how it went when he saw all of you executed in the previous timeline? Who can say?

When the lights return, Stephen is standing alone on stage.

This time, there is no set. There is no music. There is not even a catwalk; the Phantom stands opposite Stephen, on the level wooden stage. He's watching him, but casting occasional glances out into the house.

Still, no music plays. No one comes out of the wings. No song begins.

After a moment or two of silence, the Phantom steps towards Stephen himself and starts to sing, unaccompanied, his voice steady despite the lingering bits of uncertainty in his body language.]

An everlasting farcical disaster
You play your part
You march the march
You don't complain
You find - what?

[He stops singing abruptly, turning towards the house. He only looks for a moment, before turning and bolting off-stage.

You were probably all focused on him and Stephen, the execution he was trying to find his way through. You didn't see what he saw. But you hear, moments later, a groaning of metal and a clattering of chains, following by a cacophony of crystalline crashing as the chandelier above your heads drops.

It falls in an arc, still restrained by several remaining chains. When it crashes, it crashes on the stage - and on Stephen, who did not flee when the Phantom did. Crystals smash, glittering fragments flying everywhere, and bits of twisted golden metal bounce off the hardwoods and down into the orchestra pit. For the second time in as many minutes, sparks and glass fly from broken lightbulbs, but this time, there's hundreds of them, surrounding by layers of fabric. The sparks quickly start to catch on the curtains hanging around the stage. You smell smoke.

You should go.]

[heathencall]

[Despite the anger, the betrayal, Mephisto isn't ready to see this. He stares at the floor as the lights go down, and doesn't look back up. It's only after the crash, when the smoke hits his nose, that he looks up.

It's all gone to shit.]

Move. Now.