Watch your feet!

[carcerare]

"I vote for Honda. Don't care about his sob story or his bullshit culprit ideas. See you later, Noodle Samurai."

[carcerare]

Orino | Stress | Re: Abel, Min-yun, Yukio

Orino looked back and forth between the group, her hands resting on the podium. Her fingers were bunched together to form two tightly woven fists. She was in a nightmare, she told herself. There’s no way that this was happening. From the waterworks of fencer boy to the increasing possibility that everyone was going to spill the beans on their secrets, things were not looking up for the stagehand. Hopefully since Yukio gave them a somewhat accurate description of the mysterious Noodle Samurai that she didn’t have to speak up. She couldn’t help but to crinkle her nose at the godawful name. Noodle Samurai, the guy who thought of that must be incredibly uncreative or a complete moron.

"Yeah, I’m a girl and pretty much the shortest person here, so I couldn’t have done it. Besides, my shoulders are completely exposed, so any bruises would have been seen easily. I’m with Pop Star on the secret thing; I’m not saying squat. Besides, one of us could easily lie about what their secrets are and cry crocodile tears to seal the deal. Sorry Baudin for taking away your spotlight, but if we trust someone who freaks out and cries at being accused to be innocent, we’re all gonna die.”

Still, there was still one thing that bothered her ever since the fencer showed off his wrists. The stagehand was still pretty suspicious about the guy, but she had to cooperate with him in order to make sure everything added up. Grimacing, she focused her gaze on Yukio and tried to calmly talk to the mourning boy.

"Yeah, it has to suck that you killed your brother because of your own carelessness. Buuut, we have more important things to worry about now, so stop rolling around in self-pity and give me some information. Okay? Alright. I think I saw that you had some scratches on your wrists when you showed us earlier what damage the murderer did to you, am I right?I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that the killer has long fingernails. You know, because nails equals scratching or something. Which is kinda weird if you ask me, since guys don’t usually have long nails. Maybe the Noodle Samurai digs manicures.”

[carcerare]

Orino | Leaked Information | Re: Yukio, Abel

The hand that was holding the sword drooped down even further, her eyes wide and staring at the fencer. She glanced at the blade for a few times silently, a bead of sweat sliding down her forehead. She felt like laughing off the claim for some reason, that and chucking the blade at the boy. Had she messed up again and nearly gotten someone else killed? Yukio was hesitating as he spoke though, so maybe he was lying. Either that or he was freaking out and having a hard time thinking. Better question him about his testimony though, just in case.

Oh, uh… yeah, that could explain why there’s a bent sword, but that doesn’t explain why would it be in the convenience store instead of your room. But, for the sake of not killing an innocent person, let’s look at the mysterious masked murderer you said earlier. Like what Baudin said, what did the guy look like? Basic details like how tall he was and stuff. Since you used ‘he’, I’m gonna guess that the killer’s a guy, right? Also, since the guy shoved you to the floor, I bethe might’ve left some bruises on you from the impact or his grip. You mind showing them off to us?”

[carcerare]

Orino | Chop That Statement to Pieces | Re: Min-yun, Yukio | ATTN: Midori

Thankfully, Orino managed to shake off her drowsiness by the time she stood at her podium. There’s something about a shaky, more than likely unstable elevator to snap someone to attention. That and some condemning evidence.

Her eyes brightened as Min-yun spoke up, finally seeing her chance. Chuckling darkly, the stagehand acted like she was pushing up imaginary glasses before speaking up in a lower pitch.

"Yi, you clever, clever girl. Not only did your laziness help our case, but as a matter of fact you might have just proved who did it. Look what I found in the convenience store. Zip-POW!”

With that, she held onto the sword and thrust it up into the air. The blade wobbled at the force of the motion. Smiling smugly, she looked at the crowd.

"See, it’s a bendy sword! It’s got a small bend in it from something. Maybe it’s from, oh I don’t know, a failed attempt at killing the witness?!”

Orino moved the tip of the blade to point at Yukio, staring him down. She thought of herself as a tiger staring down at her terrified prey. Delicious.

"Since Pop Star over there said that there’s an empty sheath in your room, explain where you were during the time of the murder! Why is your wobbly sword in the store?! Answer the questions, ‘Monosheri’!”

She gazed at him intently for a moment before lowering the blade for a moment, her confidence subsiding. The stagehand smiled sheepishly before speaking up in her normal voice.

"Also, uh… tell us who your roommate is too. I don’t wanna repeat of what happened last trial. Sorry for going off at you and nearly killing you off last time, Imawamu. Hopefully bygones can be bygones, right? Ha ha… haaaa….

[shsl-stagehand]

"Stop right there." Haru has quite suddenly approached Orino and is holding out his hand, reminiscent of a pop diva. "I just went into the convenience store to look at that evidence and it is nowhere to be seen. I presume you have taken it. You are a rascal. Let me see that blade at once. It must be available for public inspection if we are to investigate this crime most effectively." His tone defies disobedience, but what will Orino do?

When Haru spoke up, a stream of random syllables flew out of Orino’s mouth as she fumbled with the blade. She managed to finish of her gibberish with a loud “GUH?!” and one of  her hands firmly grasped on the sword. Facing towards the source of herheart attack moment of surprise, the stagehand pursed her lips. Slowly, she lowered and unclenched her free hand.

"Never do that again. Ever. Seriously, I could have given you a concussion or something. That would have sucked ass.

The girl used up precious time to give the psychologist a stern look before puffing out a sigh of both relief and resignation.

But anyways, I wasn’t stealing this… weird sword thingamajig or anything. I was gonna show it off at the trial and be like some kind of cool detective, sorta like how Blue Hair did it last time. But fine, take the thing. Be the hero or whatever.

The girl proceeded to push the blade onto Haru’s chest, frowning deeply all the while.

[carcerare]

Any evidence in the karaoke building or the convenience store?

There is nothing in the karaoke rooms.

In the convenience store there is a discarded foil fencing blade. It seems to have been bent into an unusable state.

[carcerare]

Orino awkwardly investigates the body, trying not to touch it too much. How big are the wounds on the corpse's neck and chest?

The hand-shaped marks on their neck are about average size; it’s difficult to tell who they might belong to. The burn marks indicate quite a large splash but do not spread any further than the chest.

[carcerare]

Orino | Half and Half | Re: Body

Orino shuffled towards the crime scene, struggling to keep her eyes open. Wasn’t it too early for someone else to die? Not because of the time now, but in relation to the last trial. After what happened with that actor, she had figured that no one would be eager to kill after that. At least, she wasn’t eager. The stagehand didn’t want to be blown up in a TV or something wackier than that shit, but who knows? Maybe some kid thought it’d be cool to die like that. Shunsen clearly didn’t think so. It was until that damned motive came along that she could see the temptation of doing so. Fortunately, one of the cats cheerfully told them that yet another student had been killed. Relief swept over the stagehand. Her secrets were safe.

It was pretty selfish of her, she admitted to herself, to be thankful for someone being killed, but so far she didn’t really care all that much. Besides, the person who died was someone she didn’t know all that well, so why should she feel bad for them? All Orino knew about the victim was from the file on her ID card and watching them cry like a five-year-old when they first woke up here. The eyes that were once filled with tears were cloudy and dull, staring into the world above. The stagehand avoided looking at them for too long once she felt chills rippling across her skin. Trying to stifle her shivers, Orino began to investigate the area for any clues on the culprit.

[carcerare]

Time to Panic | Orino | Re: ALL THE THINGS | Hotel -> Ramen Shop

Orino had ditched the others as soon as the elevator doors had opened. Those scrunched, sniveling faces they made did nothing to help the queasiness that settled into her stomach. The execution was pretty awful, she knew, but wasting their time mourning over the guy wasn’t going to help them get out of there. The stagehand managed to smuggle some salt to the hotel that night from the convenience store, barely questioning why such a thing would be located in there. She poured a small amount of the substance into her hand and lightly covered herself with it. Given that the gravity of the whole “murder as a Get Out of Hell free card” situation had finally hit, Orino needed all the luck and cleansing she could get. She stepped inside her dorm and washed off all the grime she had on her before collapsing onto her bed in exhaustion.

Less than a day had passed when the white cat called them back up. As the cat squawked at them, Orino looked through her ID card to look at all of the new changes. Well, what do you know, there was a new area. More importantly, there was a restaurant with actual food. She would finally be able to chow down on something moderately healthy for once, something full of beef and vegetables and spices… The thought was making her drool. She heard a slam and Kawaneko’s screams fade away, causing her attention to focus back on the tracks. The asshole must have ran off somewhere, since the cat was gone and replaced with a Kuroneko-driven train. Ah, Kuroneko, the lesser of two evils. Thankfully she was able to return back to the hotel relatively unscathed.

The week was mostly spent sneaking about the hotel, hording food and drinks into her dorm. Orino wasn’t sure why, but her nausea didn’t seem to quit after what happened. It didn’t help that she felt tired and wanted to stay in her bed morning until night. The stagehand managed to go out to the park a few more times before abandoning the idea entirely. Fuck the shrine for now, she had thought, the things were all over the place; there was probably one in an area around there. They just had to unlock it or some other “stage clear” bullshit. But that would mean having another trial, and that mean killing someone else off. Orino shook her head, picking up her ID card to look at what the cats were rattling off now. Kawaneko was still throwing a hissy fit over not getting respect. She grinned. Looks like the the kitty still has his diapers on.

As the stagehand amused herself with the mental image of Kawaneko sulking in a tree, the screen suddenly filled up with words. Her curiosity peaked, she looked over them eagerly. It was a new motive or something, right? Maybe it was something like a riddle, or a story about one of the other students!

Her smile faltered at the first entry on the list. Huh, that was a bit… personal. Orino gripped the card tightly as she read downwards, her expression morphing into one that was much more intense. Each word seemed to burn into the back of her brain. By the last entry, she had to force herself from chucking the godforsaken card against the wall. It wasn’t funny for them to drag up that kind of personal information. She’d thought she kept a tight lid on those details, but then again being kidnapped does weaken homeland security. Orino wanted to believe that they knew all this because they were spirits, but the entire spirited away idea was starting to lose its edge. Maybe it was that she thought death was impossible in the land of the dead or that the motive was hitting too close to home. It didn’t matter right now. With a shaky hand, she slipped her ID card back into her pocket.

The stagehand’s stomach gurgled soon after, the effects of eating so little over the past few days starting to effect her. Unfortunately, her nausea didn’t die down from the change in appetite, the conflicting sensations making her shiver. Orino tried to shrug it off as she made her way down to the ramen shop to no avail. She arrived after a few minutes and scrambled onto one of the high seats. Ordering a beef and broccoli ramen bowl covered in ginger, she cracked open her chopsticks and chowed down the minute her order was put down. The stagehand’s mouth stung from the sheer heat of it, but the fact that it was the first actual meal she had eaten after waking up in the city made her not care one bit.

[carcerare]

Kick it Into High Gear | Orino | Re: Hisato, Kuroneko | Attn: Midori

"No medicine?! Then how are you gonna keep us here forever if—!"

A small thump caught Orino’s ears. She turned to look at the source and immediately stepped back. Hisato was on the ground. Whether or not he was unconscious she did not know nor care. Her mouth gaped open for a few seconds, staring at the display before bursting gritting her teeth. Orino whipped her head to Midori and yelled at her, her hands gripping at the sides of her podium.

"Fuck you and your blame game! Fukuyama could be dying for all we know and here you are trying to drag him under the damn murder bus! We just went over that the killer dragged the body to the room, of course there wouldn’t be a struggle! And don’t call Anai an asshole, asshole! She literally died hours ago while you were ‘not at the hotel’! Just where the hell were you anyway? Tell us exactly where you went last night and when if your so confident that you didn’t do it!”

She looked at Hisato again, her angry expression faltering. The stagehand seemed to realize this, so she shook her head and looked back at Midori.

"Hurry the fuck up. I don’t wanna know what happens if we waste time bickering over something stupid instead of getting him some help."

[carcerare]

Hold on a Second | Orino | Trial Start | Re: Haru

Holy shit, this had to be the biggest elevator she had ever seen. You could probably make a small house out of this much space. Why did they need it so big though? Orino had thought that the cats would get a kick out of cramming so many kids into a tiny elevator. Maybe they got a hold of one of those elevators that moved workers through a factory and they couldn’t afford anything else? But they were in the spirit world or something, the cats should be able to make a creepy small elevator that only seemed like it would fall and crash. Nothing was making any sense, if they had the choice of doing something unnatural than why wouldn’t they do it? As if not being able to clean herself off was bad, she now had to worry about the cats pulling off this malarkey. Orino stood off to the back, alternating between staring at the ground at staring at the dog thing in the middle because holy fuck it’s a dog thing.

She had never been in a court room before and, judging her surroundings, that will never change. The stagehand had watched a part of one of those “law shows” outside a television store once so she knew what one looked like. This was completely different. There was only one judge that didn’t sit on something so high and easily knocked over plus there were lawyers and benches for the jury. The podium she was at nearly came over her chest too. How was she going to get taken seriously if she was covered in dirt and tiny compared to everyone else? Especially since that guy just outright accused some chick of doing it. Looks like she was going to have to go with the good old-fashioned self-confidence to get a word in.

"Oiii. Name’s Orino Shimura, High School Level Stagehand. I dunno anything outside of what’s on my ID card but maybe Anai twisted the wire around her foot and tripped on it? The killer might of saw their chance and hammered her head into the table to finish the job. Also, why do you think Imamuwa offed her instead of someone else? Was there any evidence that she was there that the IDs missed or somthing?

[shsl-stagehand]

"Um, sorry, b-but, why're these c-clothes under here? And w-why are they dirty? And w-what's that book?"

"None of your goddamn—" Orino began, but stopped herself and shook her head. She lowered her volume and continued, "Those are the old clothes that I wore while running around in the woods. I’ve been checking it out for the past few days to, you know, get exercise? The book’s an old gift from my grandpa. Touch it and I’ll kick your ass. If your done sniffing through my panties, get out of here. You’ve looked at everything you needed to see, right? So go."

[shsl-stagehand]

min-yun checks the sink, under the bed, and the drawers. pbbt

As you look around the room, Orino stands somewhat close to you, looking back and forth to your hands and your face.

The sink looks pretty clean. There are faded dark brown streaks on a part of the sink, looking as if it were wiped off with a towel. Underneath the sink are soaps, sprays, and bubble baths. The majority of them are labeled on having floral or citrus scents.

Underneath the bed was another story. On the half that contained the foot of the bed, a duffel bag and a smaller bag sat. The other side of the bed, the one closest to the wall, had a pile of muddy clothes and towels underneath.

The drawers contained underwear and pajamas that appeared to be either thrown or shoved in there. The hints a book of some sorts was buried underneath the clothing.

[shsl-stagehand]

"Um, I'm sorry to b-bother you, but can I, u-um, look in your room? I w-won't take anything."

So close and yet so far. Orino slowly turned towards the voice, her dirt-covered arms and legs frozen mid-step. “Fwuuh—” Orino greeted the idol, her eyes wide. Out of all people, the pop star had to be the one to find her like this. Soon the taller girl would be bitching about the mud the stagehand was tracking in or how smelly she was. Unbelievable. Orino crossed her arms and glared upwards at Min-yun, scowling.

"Fffucking fine, why not. It’s not like I have anything to hide or anything," She grumbled, "But I’m going to watch you so you don’t forget what you said, alright? If I see you try to sneak out with a ‘souvenir ‘, I’m gonna break your nose. Got it, poster girl?"

[carcerare]

Orino | Late to The Corpse Party | Re: Body | Park > Hotel

She hadn’t heard the announcement at first. She was too focused on trying that shrine. Day in and day out she had looked there, ignoring everyone else in the process. Sure, she came back once it was Night Time or needed something, but she was going to find the damn thing no matter what it took. It was her only way out of dying in this place, at least that’s what she hoped. She had to sneak out a few times so none of the others would stop her and report her to the cats. The stagehand envisioned her death to be a little more honorable than being killed by a couple of stuffed animals over sneaking out. Mom and Dad would never hear the end of it.

Orino stumbled over a root for the third time today and crashed into the forest floor. Mud and leaves splattered onto the left side of her body. Groaning, she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, only to realize with horror as she fell on the side where she kept her ID card. Frantically she pulled it out, tapping the with her filthy hands. She sighed with relief as it was fine, deciding to check out what those cats were trying to say earlier. It probably wasn’t that bad, like they were yelling at them to kill someone already.

…Or it could be a confirmation that someone did indeed take the bait. Well then.

Unconsciously, Orino rubbed her hand across one side of her face, mud smearing across the skin. Immediately she stood up, spitting out the dirt that managed to get into her mouth. How she forgot that she looked like a walking flower garden, she’ll never know. She had to at least clean herself off at first but without water that would be next to impossible. Orino wasn’t going to take her chances with the potentially evil soul and fish shit infested ponds in the park either. Getting sick or dragged in to be drowned wasn’t on her to-do list today. Looks like she would just have to take her chances and wipe off with a towel at the hotel. After a few minutes of being lost, the stagehand managed to find the bus stop and hitched a ride to the building, jumping out when the vehicle was slowing down in front of it and dashing inside.

[carcerare]

Orino | What a Downer | City Hall

The stagehand was one of the last students to wake up. A strange predicament, given that she was becoming increasingly wet and cold. Her unconscious mind had chalked it up to having one of those “lucid dreams” she once heard about. When the images of her dream faded into the usual darkness that came with closing her eyes, Orino began to think that maybe something bad happened. After all, her bedroom wasn’t the most humid of places, plus her family couldn’t afford a sprinkler system in the case of a fire. She inhaled sharply and flailed to get on her feet. She snorted and coughed as she felt liquid shot up her nose, but she managed to not slip and fall on the slick… leaves?

Swerving her head around, Orino was dwarfed by the large trees towering above her and overwhelmed by the smell of dirt and vegetation. Some people around her age seemed to move off in a certain direction, and she toddled off after them. She wondered if she was in some sort of spirit world, taken by ghosts in her sleep for angering a god. She wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, to be honest. The spooky hotel in the middle of nowhere was also a nice touch. You got to have some place to house the damned, after all. The bus was a bit of a shocker though; either the spirit world was inaccurate or got an upgrade over the times. Wait a minute… how can a ghost driver be invisible if the rest of them were spirits t— Self-piloting vehicles exist, right. Or at least vehicles that run on a track. That is a very important thing to remember.

The city hall, as the mysterious letter put it, was rather familiar to the stagehand, but it couldn’t be what she thought it was. She said goodbye to her friends in Tokyo a day or so ago. Orino may not be the most knowledgeable in the growth cycle of trees, but trees took about a year to get a little bit bigger. She figured that the tree in the building was at least a thousand years old, maybe even nine-hundred. She stepped inside and was quickly surrounded by various teenagers, all of them confused and terrified. She felt like a sardine, but at least the body heat was warming her up. A voice came from out in front of her, and she squeezed herself in to get a closer look.

A frigging cat chattered off, stuttering and bawling like a little child as it tried to gain control of the situation. Orino yelled at it along with the others for why they were here, but it just blubbered at their demands. Who let such a baby in charge of this place? The animal was a stuffed toy that couldn’t even hurt a fly! What was going to stop her from punching some asshole? A timeout in the corner? Well, it was preferable to being tortured by spirits, so keeping quiet was the best option. But, that doesn’t mean she had to be happy about it. Grimacing, she trudged up to the crybaby cat and took her ID card. It was rather fancy compared to those laminated things business workers seemed to wear. Walking off to a corner, she shivered as she examined the contents of the card with mild curiosity.

[shsl-stagehand]

let the revamp commence

orinosakakibara -> shsl-stagehand