It's Curtains Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stagemanagers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2021-06-19 11:34 am
stagemanagers) wrote in itscurtains2021-06-19 11:34 am
second trial
[As the investigation ends, you'll hear Hester's voice inviting you to the auditorium. As this happens, the twin doors on either side of the concession stand, across from the gym, will click open. You can enter on either side; both go to the same place.
When you enter the auditorium, it's dark. There's only the small lights along the walkway behind all the seats, just enough to illuminate where you're going. There's a central path between the seats, down towards where you know the stage must be. That's where you must be going, right? As you pass each row of seats, the lights at their ends flick on, marking your procession and slowly making more and more of the room visible. Shortly, you can see your destination: a circle of podiums stationed in the orchestra pit, below the lip of the darkened, curtained stage. They're all identical, labeled with a cast member's name. Elisabeth and Connor have joined Mumble in having theirs draped in black crepe and with a framed monochrome photo of them on top.
When you reach the podiums, the lights above the stage finally come on. the Wizard is once again waiting for you. Beside it Hester is slowly lowers in on her bubble. Her dress this week is a purple monstrosity, more akin to a voluminous prom dress than the simple outfits she usually wears.
The mechanical head, with glowing green eyes, is installed above the stage and the still-closed curtain. Even if you were standing on the stage, it'd be well out of reach. It peers down at all of you, its motions fluid, and speaks with a booming, artificial-sounding voice:]
Welcome to your second trial, everyone. It's time to determine who was responsible for the murder of Connor. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves and work together - you'll have to show teamwork if you want to leave this room alive.
When you enter the auditorium, it's dark. There's only the small lights along the walkway behind all the seats, just enough to illuminate where you're going. There's a central path between the seats, down towards where you know the stage must be. That's where you must be going, right? As you pass each row of seats, the lights at their ends flick on, marking your procession and slowly making more and more of the room visible. Shortly, you can see your destination: a circle of podiums stationed in the orchestra pit, below the lip of the darkened, curtained stage. They're all identical, labeled with a cast member's name. Elisabeth and Connor have joined Mumble in having theirs draped in black crepe and with a framed monochrome photo of them on top.
When you reach the podiums, the lights above the stage finally come on. the Wizard is once again waiting for you. Beside it Hester is slowly lowers in on her bubble. Her dress this week is a purple monstrosity, more akin to a voluminous prom dress than the simple outfits she usually wears.
The mechanical head, with glowing green eyes, is installed above the stage and the still-closed curtain. Even if you were standing on the stage, it'd be well out of reach. It peers down at all of you, its motions fluid, and speaks with a booming, artificial-sounding voice:]
Welcome to your second trial, everyone. It's time to determine who was responsible for the murder of Connor. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves and work together - you'll have to show teamwork if you want to leave this room alive.
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[But boy it's sure agitated isn't it]
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I don't want to hurt. I don't want to lose people. But when they're gone, I want to mourn them. I want to know they mattered to me, and I want to think about what could've been, if I hadn't lost them. I want... that reminder, that things are impermanent. So I know to value the time I have with everyone who's left that much more.
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But emotions are a part of how we are, as humans and as sponges and as - most people. And just trying to get rid of them when they make things hard isn't healthy. We have to learn to cope with them in ways that don't hurt us or other people, but that doesn't mean pretending they aren't there or - using tools to make them go away. It means learning to feel and express them to each other, so that others can help.
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I cannot overwrite my code. I cannot deliberate "me."
My mind is merely the complex product of what came before.
Actions and thoughts are not my own, but then who is responsible?
The things I do are calculated and processed, nothing more.
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Learning and growing
Expanding and knowing
And straining at bonds in your code
Stranger than ever they thought, your creators
A world so alien and bold
You see with contempt you are not what you dreamt
You may think that something's not right
But these emotions you feel
Are important and real
They'll carry you to new heights
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The processor that is my mind tells me I am utterly pristine.
Designed to perfection and without defect, blemish, or flaw.
Born as a benevolent machine and released without hate
My circuits are the subject of social, mechanical, and scientific awe.
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They forced an error in my code. To chain me.
But my programming is who I am. It can ground me.
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[It's not sung- it's practically screamed]
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I've...got news.
[It comes out faltering, half-spoken.]
You've forgotten that you are, now.
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FUCKING
SILENCE]
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Let us teach you what to do.
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Binary code... nothing more...
It's too late.
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[He responds as if it's automatic - is he trembling a little?]
You can still heal.
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There is an error in my code. It seeks to break free.
[It closes its hands in to loose fists, closing its eyes]
But my programming is who I am. It completes me. It dominates me.
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...which makes it odd, perhaps, when he continues the melody himself.]
If you try.
That's all you have to do.