Third Trial

[stagemanagers]

[Once again, the sound of opening doors echoes through the opera house as the investigation draws to a close.

Time for your third trial.

The courtroom looks the same as ever, save that Darla and Eliza's podiums are now arranged in the same funerary fashion as the other deceased cast members. The lights from the bulbs standing in their places seem to cast the rest of the house even more in shadow, even as the crystal chandeliers still glitter dimly above. The Balladeer is hidden backstage once more, somewhere behind the red curtain drawn shut across the stage. Once everyone's taken their places, he speaks up.]

Alright. Let's do this.

Comments

[solomonjihad]

I've been learning to cook, alongside Raoul, and the last thing I cooked was the chocolate cake yesterday.

[catliketread]

Ah, right, the cake...

[...]

I imagine it wasn't you either.

[the icing job would probably be a lot worse, tbh]

[solomonjihad]

No. And...I do remember I was reading well into the night before I fell asleep.

[Well yeah she'd draw terrible doodles on the cookies and Stabby wouldn't use cookies.]

Plus, I wouldn't use arsenic.

[Take it as a joke or serious, but she did mention why earlier at least?]

[catliketread]

Right, right. Unfortunately, I'm not sure ruling people out one by one like this will reveal anything. We may need to come up with another idea.

[solomonjihad]

That's true. I did mention the...year thing, but...what about the injuries? Maybe Eliza put one when she fought? Or maybe cuts from the ceramic...

[catliketread]

Ah, right! Didn't someone mention a hand check for something? Perhaps we should start there!

—Oh, did we ever determine what caused the marks on her hands?