pleased to meet you

[sailmods]

CW: murder

[it is the morning of the 17th when the usual morning announcement is replaced with the sort of tentative, nervous tone that Friday takes on immediately before something insane happens.]

Good morning, passengers! It's, um... Well, I sure hope everyone had an interesting time on their shore excursion! The Captain sure did! In fact, he had such a good time, he's asked me to inform you all that, tonight, he's going to be hosting his usual captain's formal in the main dining room, but with a twist! This time, it's going to be a, um... victory party! For Natsuno! Because he won! [small laugh] And also to celebrate the opening of a new shop on the Promenade! Gosh, and that really is something to celebrate; I haven't seen that happen since he--

[LOUD STATIC NOISES]

-- Yes, well! The dress code will be cruise formal; everyone can find a new set of clothes in their cabin to celebrate the occasion! I-- Oh, right, we'll see you all tonight! 8PM sharp!

[the connection cuts off. today, for the first time that anyone can remember, Friday can't be found in the atrium. or any other room. smoke 'em if you got 'em.

at 8PM sharp, the door to the dining room swings open. it is mostly empty: the only tables left are a dozen or so under the main chandelier. there are name cards at each table setting, written in Friday's neat script; the seatings seem mostly random, except for everyone who was on the island, who will find themselves at a table with their killer and/or victim(s). except Natsuno, of course, whose name is displayed proudly at the head table, next to an unnamed place. once they are inside, all of them find themselves under the same sort of compulsion that they felt during the muster drill, and their legs will stop working until they have gone to their assigned seats.

Friday enters the room first, dressed up nicely, but with hunched shoulders and her hands clasped firmly in front of her. the door shuts behind her. she says nothing, and acknowledges no one, not even Natsuno, as she takes her spot behind the chair.

a few fashionable minutes pass. it starts as smoke pouring out from under the door, moving towards the table as it slowly solidifies into the form of... a rather normal-looking man. he sits, cross-legged, in the chair that Friday pulls out for him. he looks over the assembled crowd, visibly considering something... there is a flash of silver in the light, and the knife he'd had in his sleeve is across Friday's throat quicker than she can react, and she falls bonelessly to the ground, a spray of arterial blood across the table setting.]

There, perfect.

[he looks out at them again. and he smiles. the knife is placed back in his sleeve, and he holds his hands out, palms up.]

Well. Here's your chance. [he waves a hand lazily, and the compulsion keeping them seated fades like pins and needles.] Try not to embarrass yourselves.

Comments

[techniques]

[Reigen makes a slight face at that--and then quickly tries to pretend he didn't, lest he get called an "old man" or something upon having that reaction to the mention of heavy mental.]

Given the chaos, I suppose it would be fitting in this particular instance, as much as I hate to say it.

[opheliac]

Yeah, see!! We just some nice head bangers and we'll be cookin' with gas. Actually, I bet some music oughta calm all of us down.

[techniques]

That's... actually not a bad idea.

[The music could at least work as a distraction to break up whatever nonsense is going on right now... speaking of which--]

Do you think they'd even notice right now if someone managed to get ahold of the equipment needed for that?

[opheliac]

I think everyone's too busy killin' each other to notice what we're doing. — If the doors weren't locked, I'm sure no one would even see us waltzin' on outta here.

[techniques]

... Come to think of it, they might be distracted enough right now that they wouldn't even notice someone attempting to pick the locks on the doors either.

[opheliac]

(now she grins even wider.)

— Waaanna give it a go?

[techniques]

Why not? What's the worse that could happen?

[Aside from potentially getting caught and punished for it, but hey... he experienced death already once now. He isn't going to encourage other people to do things that might get themselves killed, but that courtesy doesn't extend to himself.]

[opheliac]

We somehow combust?! That would be pretty freakin' rad if that happened with everything else going on!

[techniques]

... Well let's maybe try to avoid that at least.

[But Reigen is setting his drink down now on some table nearby to head for the door. Let's see if we can try to pick the locks and get out of this room while the Captain is distracted...]

[opheliac]

Ladies, first.

(and she is addressing to him and not her.)

[techniques]

[Reigen for his part actually takes it in stride rather than be offended, already examining the door as he starts checking his pockets for something he can potentially use to pick the lock with. He seems to find what he's looking for as he soon starts fiddling with the door.]

Give me a heads up if he starts looking in our direction.

[opheliac]

Aye aye. Just don't do it so loud, either.

(how can it when there's so much communion going on already? but as instructed, she stands near by with her hands on her hips -- watching over everyone. huh, there's a table flip over there.)