[ week one: execution ]

[murderhost]

EXECUTION

There's the sound of that handbell again, sometime Sunday morning when the sun gets high in the sky. It's PB in the front yard of the manor. He's looking as chipper(?) as ever and is riding the high of yesterday's trial. Voting for Tamon? That was good television. He's living it up, babey!

Which means when everyone gathers, he will beckon them to follow. Onto the beach, that invisible wall gone for now and instead PB leads them to a circle of tiki torches, lit despite the daytime hours and surrounded in a circle by mannequins. The sound of the waves are loud near the water where they stand and it's actually a little cold. The crew is there, filming the circle and the contestants as well as they're encouraged to stand around it. If they try to go into the circle itself, they will be stopped — except for one person.

Tamon will be carried out of the house by mannequins, all the way to to the middle of the circle and dropped in the center of the sand. The mannequins will leave then, going back to their place among the circle of crew. This is feeling very Survivor, isn't it? Which is when PB pipes up —

"Don't worry, everyone. It's distinct enough that we won't get sued!"

Bastard.

Anyway, now that you're all here, what's going to happen next?

♥

Comments

[fixtures]

[ She just... bluescreens when Tamon nods at her and says happy birthday. She didn't even know it was her birthday?

How can he say that to her? She didn't even... say goodbye to him, or visit even once... ]

........

[dresscode]

[ quietly, from where he's curled up in a miserable ball in the sand: ]

Ha... happy b-birthday, Giselle-san...

[fixtures]

.......

[ The happy birthday wishes... Tamon and Tsukasa arguing with production in the background... the impending dread of something horrible about to happen....

She sinks to her knees in the sand, clutching both hands against her chest. ]

Tamon, I... I didn't...

[dresscode]

[ Well, if anything can get Haruaki to set aside his own crashout, it's someone else he cares about crashing out too. He picks himself up from his miserable sand ball to scoot over and sit next to Giselle, an arm wrapping around her shoulders.

He doesn't say anything. What is there to say? ]

[fixtures]

[ She curls in while his arm goes around her shoulders, shame and disgust towards herself reaching all new peaks. Quietly, almost like it's to herself: ]

Why...?

[ She wants to plug her ears — she can hear Tsukasa suffocating, but she won't raise her head. ]

[dresscode]

[ With how cowardly Haruaki has been with so many other things that have happened this week, perhaps one might expect him to turn away–

But there's something heavy in his stitched-together soul that tells him he has a duty to not avert his gaze. Tsukasa's life is a precious one, and he must honor it by watching its end. If there's some way he can help gentle Tsukasa's spirit into a more peaceful afterlife...

He does try to shield Giselle from it as best he can, though there really is no escaping the sound of Tsukasa struggling for his last breaths. ]