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Betrayal 3: sensitIV
[ You spill out of the elevator into the Photoshoot Studio—the elevator is gone when you look back.
It's a huge room, and… so white it practically feels prismatic and glowing, from wall to wall, with a large drape of backdrop covering one end of the room to make it as formless and featureless as possible. A sea of endless possibility… or maybe a discomfiting void. But here, you can be anyone a photographer cares to dress you up as. A rack of rental costumes sits behind the camera, out of sight but key to putting together the illusion. Sequins and beads glitter under the bright light, like they’re so ready to be photographed that the flash bulbs of cameras are already going off.
There's a small vanity area with makeup—both conventional and with some exciting options, like full metallic body paint—and a mirror, for getting ready for your close-up. And as you walk around, the lighting rigs across the ceiling seem to… follow you? It's no surprise, right? After all, you're the star of the show while you're here, and everything in this room seems to focus on you.
You almost expect the white here to be spattered with red, and your clothes as well—like when your friend turned to you, with a strange expression, axe in their hand. They smiled a terrible, wrong smile, and said to hold still, as you backed up, arms raised, looking for some means of escape, something to help you. And then, the solid thing your hand found purchase on, in your time of need—
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 :)"
A friendship bracelet hangs loosely from your wrist.
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 (Friendship Bracelet). Only once you leave your starting room does your phone update to display your role's traitor goal (to kill someone who attacks you first). It looks like nothing is stopping you from committing the traitor goal even while you're sane, if you wish to.
There is an exit to the South. ]
It's a huge room, and… so white it practically feels prismatic and glowing, from wall to wall, with a large drape of backdrop covering one end of the room to make it as formless and featureless as possible. A sea of endless possibility… or maybe a discomfiting void. But here, you can be anyone a photographer cares to dress you up as. A rack of rental costumes sits behind the camera, out of sight but key to putting together the illusion. Sequins and beads glitter under the bright light, like they’re so ready to be photographed that the flash bulbs of cameras are already going off.
There's a small vanity area with makeup—both conventional and with some exciting options, like full metallic body paint—and a mirror, for getting ready for your close-up. And as you walk around, the lighting rigs across the ceiling seem to… follow you? It's no surprise, right? After all, you're the star of the show while you're here, and everything in this room seems to focus on you.
You almost expect the white here to be spattered with red, and your clothes as well—like when your friend turned to you, with a strange expression, axe in their hand. They smiled a terrible, wrong smile, and said to hold still, as you backed up, arms raised, looking for some means of escape, something to help you. And then, the solid thing your hand found purchase on, in your time of need—
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 :)"
A friendship bracelet hangs loosely from your wrist.
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 (Friendship Bracelet). Only once you leave your starting room does your phone update to display your role's traitor goal (to kill someone who attacks you first). It looks like nothing is stopping you from committing the traitor goal even while you're sane, if you wish to.
There is an exit to the South. ]
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
Kind of... just covered in dried blood I guess. Like maybe his throat was torn out. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Resting in a corner. He is so tired is it over yet. ]
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
dropping his axe and baseball bat.]
Have your pick.
[he is still alive but his previously bitten hand uh... sure got a new thing]
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
Lifting his eyes. ]
Susanoo...?
[ Again... ]
Are you sur--
[ He blinks. ] You're hand--
[ FRET FRET FRET ]
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
[nudges a foot against the weapons on the ground.]
I had items I probably could have used more cleverly. So... in repayment. Let's get to the secret passage and get downstairs to get some strength.
[there is. very little inflection to his tone, tbqh. just very fact-of-the-matter.]
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
I do not blame you for what that man did. He... everyone here--
[ He clenches his fist, fangs grit. ] We need to remember them as they were. Though I am angry, I... will not let them take any more from us. I will do whatever it takes.
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
WEAPON: Very sharp.
You roll 1 additional die (max 8) when making a Might attack with this weapon.
You can't use another weapon while you're using this one.]
... I'm not angry.
[apparently he's just. wired wrong.]
Then you should probably also take this--don't worry, I have another one of it.
[and he tosses over a CD]
Last time, we were caught off-guard and I didn't think about the traps I had. If we both have a trap, then one of us will remember to use it.
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
[ He will take it and pocket it even though he has no idea what this item is. ]
Thank you, Susanoo. I will be sure to use it if we look like we are in trouble.
[ He glances toward the door. ]
Should we head out?
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
[he has so many...]
Mm, let's go.
[LEAVING ROOM]
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
Re: SESSION 16 DISCUSSION
There is little else we could lose by this point. I admire your decision to use it wisely, though. I agree.