TRIAL I

[faentasy]

Trial V

investigation

profiles

voting

The sounds of Hamelin's flute reach you, wherever you are. No matter the melody (light and whimsical today) it always seem to signal the start of something unwelcome. Whether you resist or not, eventually you'll find yourself drawn to the origin of the song.

The lush greenery of the palace courtyard greets you at the end of your journey, atmosphere heavy like the party from last night was simply an illusion. And at the center of it all, Hamelin smiles, his mouth curved, as he gathers everyone to one side of the palace grounds. With a short note from his flute, the quiet is broken with a small tremor that only grows and grows until the ground itself seems to erupt with chaos.

There's practically no time to react as roots and branches pierce through from the dirt in a wide circle around the group, limbs entwining around each other densely to create a thick wall of branches that obscure any sight of the outside world. And in that pitch black cage, the rumbling continues underfoot, bringing with it the strange sensation of moving up. When the shaking finally seems to die down, what awaits when the branches loosen and unwind is--

The hollowed inside of a grand tree, its size large enough to be comparable to the palace's ballroom. As you look around, you'll see several oversized toadstools (thirty-one for those inclined to count) growing about the place, and a small wooden table where ballots and quills are laid out, in addition to a hard-covered book with the profiles of each and every one of you. Directly behind the table is a particularly large knot, wide enough to stick your hand into.

A glance to the 'windows' in the tree trunk only show thick branches with their foliage and the wide blue sky; those who approach these windows and look down will also see that anyone who tries to escape this way is going to be leading themselves to a very, very long drop. No other exits are visible anywhere in the tree, either.

As absurd as this entire place was, as absurd as this entire situation was, the only way to get out was to play the game.

It was time. The trial for Samidare Asahina's death had begun.

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Comments

[sempiternel]

I'm afraid I've only used ovens to dry paper and such, never shoes. Drying a soaked leaf of paper in an oven at low temperature takes about five minutes I would say.

I mentioned shoes, but I imagine we could be looking at clothes in general. I'm sure my lady would have fought back. If she had kicked the killer, for example, it would have left a print or smudge on their clothes would it not?

[libirdian]

She would have. They could have cleaned off in the kitchen's sink, since it was used.

[sempiternel]

Then are we looking for someone whose clothes or shoes smell faintly earthy?

[ Ummm, does anyone else want to do the smell check? Because she's already embarrassed thinking about it. ]

[heroicact]

That may include everyone who was on or near the roof or the attic during our investigation. There were tiles and debris and the such inside the attic as well...

[sempiternel]

Would there not be a difference between a smell baked into the clothes as opposed to simply being around that area?

[heroicact]

I'm afraid I've never tried to bake clothes... but it may be something we'll have to keep in mind if we go down that road.