#monotheatre

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 5 | The Wheel of Fortune’s Last Laugh

( tw: knives, stabbing )

The time in between executions never got any easier, but knowing that yet again, an innocent party would be killed, it definitely felt worse than all the times before. It was a shame, going from quite the win streak to being wrong twice in a row…

Luckily, there wasn’t much more time to dwell on it, as Takaku is suddenly dragged away. Just like those before them, they were being sent to death because of your decision in this twisted game. 

As the monitor turns on, the first thing that catches your eye is Takaku, their bright and colourful appearance clashing with what seemed to be a wheel behind them. They seem to be strapped in by their arms and legs, unable to move anything but their neck. As for the wheel, it seems like something out of a circus act, without any sort of symbols or words that hold any meaning. 

And then, without any sort of warning, the wheel begins to spin, as if an unseen force were pushing it. The wheel spins at a dizzying pace, moving faster and faster until Takaku is nothing more than a blur. 

When the first knife hits the wheel, it narrowly misses its target, but whoever is throwing them doesn’t seem to want to give up as another dagger follows behind it. Soon, there are dozens of knives littering the wheel, and you can’t seem to tell if any of them have hit their mark or not. 

And then it all comes to a stop. 

The wheel finally halts, revealing that your suspicions were correct and that they had remained untouched. Knives and daggers surround their form, inches away from causing any physical harm. However, despite the fact that the projectiles have since ceased, the jester remained in their restraints without any sign of being able to escape. 

Moments pass by without any change, and you wonder for a moment if something unexpected will happen, just as it had in the past. Anticipation fills you, in a way, though it comes in the form of something at the bottom of your stomach. Everything is building up, staring at the jester as you wait...and wait...and--

Your only warning was the look of horror on Takaku’s face before all you could hear was the wet sound of piercing flesh, dozens more knives flying directly at their still body. 

As usual, the feed cuts during the impact shot, but when it returns, you are left with the image of the floor with Takaku’s feet dangling lifelessly, blood pooling beneath them.

Takaku Kurukuru, the Super High-School Level Jester, has been executed.

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 5 | Trigger Happy Havoc

( tw: blood )

When things register again, you can smell the strong scent of fresh blood in the air.

“Please-- don’t...don’t hurt them…”

Monomi doesn’t manage to stay standing for very long, lurching and losing her balance as she collapses onto the ground. She glances back to the theme park actress, now clearly shoved from the spot where she would have been shot, and all of you, a smile on her face; it’s hard to tell whether she’s forcing it or if it’s truly genuine, but it’s a morbid contrast with the bright red stain blooming against the space beneath her collarbones.

“Minami! Minami…!!”

The male chaperone cries, all signs of vibrant life coming back into him as the impact of the last few seconds hits him. He’s on his feet in a flash, moving faster than he ever has in front of you. He reaches his companion’s side, falling down to his knees, the fear visibly gripping him as he trembles before her body.

“Don’t look so sad… I liked seeing that grin of yours...”

Turning to look at Monokuma, the same smile on her face, she manages to pull herself up and weakly move a hand to caress his cheek. Though she normally spoke in a lifeless monotone, her still quiet voice holds a mixture of emotions-- it was hard to make out just how she was feeling.

“Then again...you always were a crybaby…”

“Minami… Nnn… No… You can’t… We’re not supposed to… hic… n-not yet...”

Despite her earlier show, Monomi’s strength is drained of her at last and she falls forward against Monokuma.

Heedless of everything else, Monokuma collects the still breathing body of Monomi, pulling her into a bridal carry. The sweetness or fantasy of such a move is long dead when one sees the utter desperation in the male’s face, how horrified his wide eyes look staring at her, and he’s dashing towards the elevator with her. He’s jabbing the elevator button impatiently to open up as if it’ll make it open faster, though in all honesty it’s barely a second of waiting time.

His impatience is even worse when he’s in the elevator, kicking up his foot against whatever button it looks like their destination is to be. He turns his head up towards a corner of the lift, yelling at the top of his lungs as the doors begin to close in on him.

“Suwabe-kun! You… Y-You better-- Pl-Please wake up Toujo-san!! Pl--!!!”

With that, your view of the two is cut off completely, and you all are left to yourselves in the aftermath.

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 5 | The Tale of the Jester

Monomi returns the card back to the deck and it is at this point her companion Monokuma draws from it, repeating the process that’s been done before just now in the flesh as opposed to by being separated by a screen.

There once was a fool.

Most would kill for the life The Wheel of Fortune was born into.

Never worrying about the necessities.

Parents who pushed for success.

The perfect life to make something of yourself.

And that was the only life they knew.

They were a child their parents could be proud of.

Intelligent.

Ahead of everyone at such a young age.

But pride doesn’t win you acceptance.

Their interests lied in a subject their parents didn’t approve of.

Regardless of accomplishments, they weren’t good enough.

But, that was okay.

They didn’t mind.

That was just how things were.

...But what if there was more to life than just what they were told?

What if they weren’t who they thought they were?

And soon, everything they knew was being challenge.

Growing to despise the fate they chose for them.

Realizing that society only cared about how useful people became.

They hatched a plan.

One that would get back at everyone.

But especially their parents.

All it took was a few lies.

No matter how big they were.

Their parents agreed to send them to a prestigious school in America.

One they said had scouted them.

But it had all been a lie.

Faked.

They were given permission to attend a performance art school.

And though they learned quite a bit for that year.

Things weren’t perfect upon their return home.

Enrolled in the school of their parents’ dreams, they couldn’t keep up.

Their grades slipped.

But it didn’t matter in the end.

Not when they had smiling peers, laughing at their jokes.

A fool for all to ridicule. 

They treasured the spotlight.

Over time, they grew more and more rebellious.

Confident to a fault.

To the point where they announced they’d be running off for the night to perform.

It was a success.

They defied fate.

And perhaps, because of them, others would follow along and do the same.

But...what if it were all for nothing?

The Wheel of Fortune continues to spin.

Without any sign of where it may land.

The arcana is the means by which all is revealed...

Do not allow outside forces to take control of your fate. The future is your own, and you must find a way to take back the reins. 

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 3 | The Tale of the Streetfighter

It is at that point you see Monomi appear on the television screens, and she seems to pull out a card from a deck just as she had done before.

She speaks aloud at this point, lilting tone carrying her through:

There once was a fiery maiden.

Many people are blessed with fortune or at least safety, something that The Chariot did not get.

The Chariot's blessing you could say was then her family.

Though they could not provide for her, they could not fulfill the lower tiers of the hierarchy of needs, they could bestow the higher ones.

The Chariot's young brother was her everything.

There was a distinct difference between them.

Growing up in the slums, The Chariot learned what it meant to be strong.

She needed to be strong to survive.

Her brother, however, could not be like her. He was soft in every sense of the word.

He could not survive on his own. He wasn't made like his peers.

They were like mountains, like walls of steel against any force that nature could toss their way. Sports, manliness, and toughness dictated the streets and their games.

If that was what the rules were, then The Chariot would simply just play by them.

For every boy who insulted her little brother, she would give them a whupping.

Words hurt, so sticks and stones shall break your bones.

One of these defeated boys is the third son of the head of a boryokudan. They hold anger and contempt in their blood at the sight of their poor, beat up boy.

The Chariot must pay.

Not too long after, she gets a knock on her proverbial door; her guest is a fighter-in-training sent ribbon-wrapped by the boy's family.

Within seconds, it's over. The Chariot is victorious and with no injuries to call home on.

The locals herald her, put her on a pedestal for having the courage to stand up to such a threat to their lives.

This limelight could've been brief, but the yakuza sends more and more people after her and her family. They create more and more of her legacy with more and more of their defeats.

To shield her family, she learns more and more tricks to keep up against the people they send after her.

This is the path of a hero, but it's hard to stay a hero forever.

She loses sight of when enough is enough, and one day defeat turns into death.

The Chariot stands over the corpse of a man, the blood on her hands create a greater target on her back.

She tells herself that it's okay to kill a bad person, she tells herself these were definitely bad people.

She makes herself the arm of justice, convinces herself that she is helping the world.

So long as things remain a fair fight, she would never be in the wrong. So she continues thinking she's not wrong and continues to paint the dark streets red.

As things get more serious, so do the consequences. If this family finds her home, then they have the right to take her head as well.

Her family's not a part of this. But how can she save them? Was her answer only to keep killing?

Hope's Peak Academy becomes her savior.

They extend their hand, tell her they'll move her folks across the sea if she joins their roster.

It sounds too good to be true. All expenses paid!

The Chariot takes their hand, takes her path to a hopeful future.

The arcana is the means by which all is revealed…

Though we all must strive for our ambitions, one should never sacrifice the greater good for them. To fixate on one and only one goal will lead to your downfall.

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 5 | The Tale of the Ambassador

Though you expect the television screens to show something, they break the pattern. Instead, both of your chaperones remain at their end of the trial room. Despite this difference of them being there in person, there is a deck of cards shared between them and Monomi pulls out one of the cards, showing it all to you in its reversed fashion.

She speaks aloud at this point, lilting tone carrying her through:

There once was a troubled prince.

Since birth, The Emperor’s throne had been built on lies.

A King on his deathbed.

And a Queen desperate to save her lineage.

He was said to be a miracle.

But, those close to the royal family knew better.

And, eventually, he would know the truth as well.

Regardless, he was brought up as the heir to the throne.

Really, they had no other option.

So he grew up to become a leader everyone would be proud of.

But the royal life was lonely.

He didn’t get to do things like other kids could.

Though his mother tried her best to keep him from being sheltered.

She couldn’t fill every need he had.

Every hole left there by loneliness.

The Emperor’s first friend was a boy his age.

The son of the captain of the guard.

A man who served those before him.

A boy who was meant to serve him.

And though it took some time.

They found that they didn’t have to be serious with each other.

They could just be themselves.

And were as close as close could be.

And soon, even closer than that.

Friendship evolves into love.

Star crossed lovers.

A relationship kept secret, fearing that the future would not allow them to be together.

It weighed him down.

Depression.

Uselessness.

He had to do something before it consumed him.

He knew that much.

It was on a whim, without much rhyme or reason.

The head ambassador was to attend the U.N. summit.

And The Emperor asked to follow along.

He was fascinated.

It was then that he realized that this was his chance to prove himself.

He was more than just an heir.

He was more than just his birthright.

He would be worthy.

Training under the current ambassador, The Emperor soon took his position once it was time for him to retire.

And this, of course, brought challenges along with it.

Few took him seriously.

Whether for his age or his country.

One solid agreement was all it took.

One good proposition.

An economic boom worldwide.

Including Japan.

He was a media sensation.

But that wasn’t what was most important.

The invitation arrived, and he accepted.

It was going to help him reach his goal.

But, he couldn’t help but think about his lie.

That The Emperor was less prince and more pauper than he let on.

The arcana is the means by which all is revealed…

The world does not know all. Sometimes, we only have ourselves to rely on for knowledge and power. Trust yourself over others.

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 4 | The Tale of the Linguist

It is at that point you see Monomi appear on the television screens, and she seems to pull out a card from a deck just as she had done before.

She speaks aloud at this point, lilting tone carrying her through:

There once was a young prodigy. 

 Death had always been a smart kid.

From an early age, he was taught different languages.

He was such a fast learner.

Even when he began school, he was always at the top.

They even said he could skip ahead.

But his parents didn’t want that.

They wanted Death to make friends.

Friends his age.

But, in the end, it was all for nothing.

Perhaps he was a freak in their eyes.

Or maybe they thought he was better than them.

Any excuse they could find to exclude him.

Leave him behind.

At least it gave him time to himself.

To improve.

To become something that others could be proud of.

His parents thought his fluency was admirable.

So he learns even more.

Books and programs.

Anything he needed.

A natural gift that he would not take for granted.

But being good at something really isn’t enough.

It doesn’t make Death happy.

Doubt.

Shame.

Hatred.

That’s what it makes him feel.

He didn’t want to be what everyone thinks he is.

A nerd.

Weak.

Different.

He had to fit in.

And he has his chance.

Everything came to a boiling point.

Getting punched at school.

He had no choice but to admit it all to his parents.

And it doesn’t take long for them to take action.

Not when he says how he feels.

That nobody wants him around.

They uproot the family.

A better paying job.

A change of scenery

A chance for Death to belong.

And it works.

He makes friends, he’s loved, and he is accepted.

But he isn’t really the one who belongs

From day one, he wasn’t the same boy.

Changing his personality to be someone everyone can love.

No longer being seen as a nerd.

He pretended to be air headed.

Carefree.

He didn’t want them to know anything but his persona.

So, when his skills are shown to the public eye.

He worries about what his friends will think.

And when they find out...

They congratulate him.

They’re interested in his abilities.

They don’t hate him.

Though he can’t drop his persona...

Maybe, just maybe, he can slowly be himself.

The arcana is the means by which all is revealed...

Change cannot be stopped, nor can it be forced. Let life take its own path, everything happens for a reason.

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 4 | The Tale of the Illusionist

Drawing from the same deck, the improper card reading continues. This time, however, the speaker is not Monomi but rather her companion Monokuma – just as it had been the previous times.

There once was a lively spark.

Born to a stage magician and a doctor, The Devil was destined for greatness.

But, from the beginning of her life, she hit a road block.

A disorder that made her unable to feel pain.

Worrying her parents, disallowing her from doing most things children do.

But, they didn’t want their child to be bored.

So they performed tricks for her as they watched over her.

And she loved it. 

She believed her parents were magical.

She wanted to be just like them.

Her interactions were limited.

Homeschooled and isolated.

But, she had one solace.

A young girl, the daughter of their neighbours.

The Devil waited patiently for her to get home from school, or to finish her homework.

Just so they could talk.

So they could no longer be alone.

She felt envious of her friend, really.

Even though she had her own problems, she wanted that same freedom.

The freedom to go outside.

The freedom to play.

She wanted to be free.

The Devil’s friend made a promise to her.

That they would go outside together when they had the chance.

And it was enough for The Devil.

It was enough for now. 

Until they finally were allowed to go to school.

The same school as her friend.

And she wanted to spend all of her time with her friend.

And all of her friend’s time should be spent with her.

But, that isn’t how friendship works.

And it doesn’t take too long for her friend to snap.

“Get away from me.”

It’s a shock to The Devil. 

And she cries that night.

But doesn’t let it keep her down.

She can’t.

She grows more social almost immediately.

If she can’t have her friend back, then she would make more friends.

Show her that she was fine without her.

...Even if, deep down, they could never fill that whole.

But, her sadness doesn’t go unnoticed.

Her parents take her to her father’s magic shows.

And his assistant falls ill.

So The Devil takes their place.

And the audience loves her.

But not as much as she loves the audience.

From that moment on, she knew she wanted to feel this way again.

She had been practicing magic since she was younger, but now it was time to show the world what she was made of.

Chase the thrill of being adored by the crowd. 

Performing large scale stunts that shock the world.

And even when she gets hurt without realizing it, and her parents worry for her wellbeing.

She doesn’t regret any of it.

And continues, every performance bigger and more perilous.

Even if she gets hurt, or maybe even dies.

It doesn’t really matter.

All The Devil cared about was the spotlight.

Anything to feel good.

The arcana is the means by which all is revealed...

The horrible habits of the past must be forgotten, and toxic bonds must break. This is the only way one can move forward. 

[rewoundcircuit]

Monotheatre 4 | The Devil’s Final Show

tw: fire

You’re sure her exit would have been fitting for her, dramatic and over the top, if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’ve seen it all before-- perhaps even one too many times. It felt almost like a disappearing act with how she was there just moments ago and gone the next.

There’s a silence while you stare at the blank screen, waiting for it to come alive to show you 🌠’s fate. Finally, after a few more moments, the screen turns on, showing you her final scene.

A spotlight illuminates 🌠, who is stood centre stage, looking as calm as someone can be in her situation. looking around at her surroundings. She found herself on a stage-- but, unlike the one from the execution before hers, this one seemed new...almost normal, seemingly no danger present. 

The real abnormality was off the stage, as 🌠 glances over at the seats in front of her where the audience would be-- only to actually see people, their eyes glued to her as if awaiting her next move. They wore dark cloaks and clothes, though the rest of their features were obscured by the darkness. 

There was a slightly weary feeling as 🌠 turned away from the crowd, deciding to investigate backstage for anything odd. At first, she didn’t find anything interesting, just seeming like a normal, yet empty, backstage area-- until two things caught her eye.

A deck of cards on the floor...and a door that was clearly marked “EXIT”.

For a moment, 🌠 is still, almost as if she’s musing on what to do-- only to pick up the deck and turn away from the door, making her way back to the stage. Perhaps it was because she simply didn’t trust that the way out would be so easy, or maybe she had long since given up on escaping.

...Or, perhaps, she simply wanted to perform, and there was very little else motivating her-- only 🌠 knew her thought process, and all you could do was observe as she begins her magic trick, staring out at the ten or so people in the audience. 

At first, it seems as if the crowd is watching her intently...but after a few moments, they begin to get restless, getting out of their seats and walking towards the stage. Now in the light, it’s clear that their faces are covered by strange masks, making it impossible to tell who they were. 

🌠 has little time to react as a few of them grab her roughly, holding her back as the rest of the audience members go backstage, hearing the sound of a door opening and something being dragged across the floor. A few more minutes pass, and they return with what seems to be a wooden pole of sorts and some rope. 

Though she struggles, 🌠 is soon tied to the pole, beginning to look oddly calm. She was an illusionist, so you didn’t doubt that she would be able to escape free herself from such a dangerous situation. As she fiddles with the rope around her hands, a member from the audience taking the deck of cards that had fallen on the floor and scattering the cards at 🌠’s feet...while another one takes out a matchbox, lighting a match and throwing it down onto the cards.

The flames quickly grow, surrounding the illusionist, who stares calmly, no longer trying to escape. Even as the flames touch her body, she doesn’t move, nor does she seem to be in any sort of pain.

As the fire grows, beginning to climb her body, the curtains close...leaving you with a dark smoke that begins to pool underneath, filling the theatre as the feed is cut off.

🌠 Ryuusei Mochida, the Super High-School Level Illusionist, has been executed.