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Betrayal 3: LiliS
[ You spill out of the elevator into the Conservatory—the elevator is gone when you look back.
The room is flooded, knee-deep, a liquid that feels too thick and viscous to be water. It ripples and emits light, casting wavy shadows across the walls and glass dome above. Above the surface of the liquid, lotuses in hyper-real hues rise up from below, opening their blooms up to the unstable starry heavens. Water hyacinth and creeping jenny grow in thick tangled mats, encased in crystalline nets like razor wire, slicing away at all roots that try to reach out of their appointed area, sharp enough the slow drifting of the water is enough force to shear them away. These hang from above from translucent glass butterflies resting on the underside of the ceiling, the blown glass of their wings both fragile and monstrously large.
Topiary islands form in the room as the only dry land, occupied by figures made entirely of blooms and branches. Like the lotuses, they’re all reaching upwards, arms outstretched wide. They face inwards towards the center of the room, where a waterfall of water and crystals pelts down into a plunge pool, a sudden deep drop off into deep water.
There's something wrong with the garden, though, isn't there? You remember… you do, don't you? How the flowers bloomed in your own garden, after what you buried there, how the petals unfolded just this bright, this vibrant, how the vines grew just this thick. How when you showed your visitor the garden, they marveled, clapping in delight, and you were… happy. That even you could bring something good into the world—
It's in the script someone's written for you, in your hand. Now, you have your own history, your own words and you can give those to the audience instead. But enough pain, enough destabilization, and you don't know if you'll want to keep sharing. They've set the stage for someone else, given you a prop, and you feel that. Reality isn't wanted here—no, you need to be larger than life, in this place, to not be devoured by the narrative, reduced to an extra. The script whispers for you to lock that troublesome self away, and try on this new role for size, and you'll be a star.
...but there's no point in casting a top-tier idol like you if you can't put your own spin on it, of course. At the bottom of the script, there's a note someone's written with a smiley-face: "just ad-lib, you're gonna be great :)"
Draped over one of the bright lotuses sits a locket.
A readout on your phone tells you the rules and displays the basic goal (explore the rooms of the casino) as well as the item that you've been given (Locket). Only once you leave your starting room does your phone update to display your role's traitor goal (kill someone out of view of those you consider to be innocents). It looks like nothing is stopping you from committing the traitor goal even while you're sane, if you wish to.
There is one exit: West. ]
The room is flooded, knee-deep, a liquid that feels too thick and viscous to be water. It ripples and emits light, casting wavy shadows across the walls and glass dome above. Above the surface of the liquid, lotuses in hyper-real hues rise up from below, opening their blooms up to the unstable starry heavens. Water hyacinth and creeping jenny grow in thick tangled mats, encased in crystalline nets like razor wire, slicing away at all roots that try to reach out of their appointed area, sharp enough the slow drifting of the water is enough force to shear them away. These hang from above from translucent glass butterflies resting on the underside of the ceiling, the blown glass of their wings both fragile and monstrously large.
Topiary islands form in the room as the only dry land, occupied by figures made entirely of blooms and branches. Like the lotuses, they’re all reaching upwards, arms outstretched wide. They face inwards towards the center of the room, where a waterfall of water and crystals pelts down into a plunge pool, a sudden deep drop off into deep water.
There's something wrong with the garden, though, isn't there? You remember… you do, don't you? How the flowers bloomed in your own garden, after what you buried there, how the petals unfolded just this bright, this vibrant, how the vines grew just this thick. How when you showed your visitor the garden, they marveled, clapping in delight, and you were… happy. That even you could bring something good into the world—
It's in the script someone's written for you, in your hand. Now, you have your own history, your own words and you can give those to the audience instead. But enough pain, enough destabilization, and you don't know if you'll want to keep sharing. They've set the stage for someone else, given you a prop, and you feel that. Reality isn't wanted here—no, you need to be larger than life, in this place, to not be devoured by the narrative, reduced to an extra. The script whispers for you to lock that troublesome self away, and try on this new role for size, and you'll be a star.
...but there's no point in casting a top-tier idol like you if you can't put your own spin on it, of course. At the bottom of the script, there's a note someone's written with a smiley-face: "just ad-lib, you're gonna be great :)"
Draped over one of the bright lotuses sits a locket.
A readout on your phone tells you the rules and displays the basic goal (explore the rooms of the casino) as well as the item that you've been given (Locket). Only once you leave your starting room does your phone update to display your role's traitor goal (kill someone out of view of those you consider to be innocents). It looks like nothing is stopping you from committing the traitor goal even while you're sane, if you wish to.
There is one exit: West. ]
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
-- do you know how to use a gun.
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
...How many times have you been here since I saw you last?
[ also does she have any new items or apparent injuries ]
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
also some blood on her sleeves, but not much and no injuries. ]
... twice more, I think.
[ pep doesn't remember. ]
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
[ voice lowering ] I will make our captors pay for this someday. I swear it.
This is only my third time through—I haven't been here since you last saw me.
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
[ a pause ]
Jason on Future is Now died in my last round. If we see him, I need to take him out.
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
But not alone. He's a highly trained combatant, and for his sake too, it's better to be certain.
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
I’ve never used a gun before.
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
We'll find something for you, then.
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
I can run very fast at least?
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
[ ARE YOU OK ]
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
Did you-- were you okay?
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
[ there's like.
still some gold paint on his face. ]
How about you?
Re: SESSION 15 DISCUSSION
rubs it off with her sleeve ]
Fine... I just got locked in a room.
I'm glad you're okay.