calloperators (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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1_800_hotline2019-06-15 12:00 pm
calloperators) wrote in 1_800_hotline2019-06-15 12:00 pm
Entry tags:
TRIAL 1 [DAY 4]
[The sound of rapidly approaching police sirens indicates that it's time to leave the crime scene.
When you reach the previously-defunct laundry room at the motel, you find that the door swings open easily. A wave of air carrying stench of rotting flesh immediately hits you in the face, accompanied the sound of flies buzzing incessantly, having finally being released from their disgusting prison. Two rotting corpses lay on the ground, both with gunshot wounds through their bodies. Curiously enough, these corpses are both wearing masks--one with a wolf mask, and another with a clown mask. From the general state of these corpses, their bodies appear to have been here for weeks. Some of you might feel a twinge of recognition at the sight of them, though you don't remember why.
Once you manage to look past the corpses, you'll find that there's an open door on the back wall with stairs leading down. Whatever washing machines that used to be here have been removed, leaving rusty impressions on the walls and floor. As you carefully make your way down the concrete steps, the air grows colder and mustier, and the sound of the radios fade. You eventually step into a dimly-lit chamber that only vaguely resembles a boiler room, as a series of pulpits have been arranged in rows, labeled by room number. Pyro's stand, of course, is conspicuously empty.
You realize that this has been the only time during your time here that you haven't heard any music at all.
Standing before all the pulpits at the front of the room, there's a CRT TV buzzing with static. As soon as everyone files in, the metal door swings shut with an abrupt CLANG and locks behind you. The static fills the silence for several minutes.
The screen flickers, and a face appears. His blonde hair is slicked back in an unnatural fashion, his plastic smile is almost permanently affixed to his face, and the suit he's wearing looks...far too shiny to be remotely real. His movements are jerky, occasionally changing completely in pose in view to the camera.
He opens his mouth and speaks in a stuttering, artificial tone, rising and falling with no sense of rhyme or reason.]
This IS M-M-Max HEADroom, and YOU are all all all HERE to catch a murderer! Your JOB is to find out who's g-g-g-g u i l t y, and I'm here to help move things along, in a sense. ense. ense. [A pause.] Then again, you're--all guilty of something, aren't you?
[And he throws back his head and laughs.]
< TRIAL START! >
When you reach the previously-defunct laundry room at the motel, you find that the door swings open easily. A wave of air carrying stench of rotting flesh immediately hits you in the face, accompanied the sound of flies buzzing incessantly, having finally being released from their disgusting prison. Two rotting corpses lay on the ground, both with gunshot wounds through their bodies. Curiously enough, these corpses are both wearing masks--one with a wolf mask, and another with a clown mask. From the general state of these corpses, their bodies appear to have been here for weeks. Some of you might feel a twinge of recognition at the sight of them, though you don't remember why.
Once you manage to look past the corpses, you'll find that there's an open door on the back wall with stairs leading down. Whatever washing machines that used to be here have been removed, leaving rusty impressions on the walls and floor. As you carefully make your way down the concrete steps, the air grows colder and mustier, and the sound of the radios fade. You eventually step into a dimly-lit chamber that only vaguely resembles a boiler room, as a series of pulpits have been arranged in rows, labeled by room number. Pyro's stand, of course, is conspicuously empty.
You realize that this has been the only time during your time here that you haven't heard any music at all.
Standing before all the pulpits at the front of the room, there's a CRT TV buzzing with static. As soon as everyone files in, the metal door swings shut with an abrupt CLANG and locks behind you. The static fills the silence for several minutes.
The screen flickers, and a face appears. His blonde hair is slicked back in an unnatural fashion, his plastic smile is almost permanently affixed to his face, and the suit he's wearing looks...far too shiny to be remotely real. His movements are jerky, occasionally changing completely in pose in view to the camera.
He opens his mouth and speaks in a stuttering, artificial tone, rising and falling with no sense of rhyme or reason.]
This IS M-M-Max HEADroom, and YOU are all all all HERE to catch a murderer! Your JOB is to find out who's g-g-g-g u i l t y, and I'm here to help move things along, in a sense. ense. ense. [A pause.] Then again, you're--all guilty of something, aren't you?
[And he throws back his head and laughs.]
< TRIAL START! >
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They said they were afraid someone would take their fire away.
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[...yeah, he could totally see that happening.]
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[...]
Not that it brings us any closer to determining exactly what happened here.
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[ He sighs, and in a somewhat hypocritical thing for the guy who hasn't been out in public at all this last few days to say: ]
Not that we really know shit about each other.
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[ He takes a drag of his cigarette. ]
Which is a shame, since if our vic's clothes were fine, we probably could have used those fibers you've got before they got torched. Unless there's somewhere else besides our killer they could have come from.
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[ He looks around the room. ]
Might be worth checking for burns, though, yeah.
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...hey! Hey, buddy... where'd you find that burnt stuff?
[He's pointing at the baggie of clothing fibers.]
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[He'll get right to it!]
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