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Mapuye Puchen

“Yeah. That was me.” Puchen remarked, glancing at Kursha. She cleared her throat and focused in on Eostre and the postcard. Puchen’s lip twitched. She watched it flick back and forth “I’ve been wearing the things to cover my wound because it’s goddamn embarrassing, and taking 'em off and on hurts like hell. Not rocket science.”

She shifted uncomfortably, breaking her stare away from the card. She flatly stated, “This has nothing to do with Kewrei’s murder. I’ll trade gloves with you if you shut up about the subject and move on. I’ve got nothing else to say.” She seemed resolved. There was no use getting more information or opinions out of Puchen now.

She removed herself from her chair and stalked over to Eostre to exchange gloves. Once Eostre had made her move she quickly slipped off her own gloves and exchanged them. There was no doubt they were Gerard’s – they smelled vaguely floral.

Puchen sits back down, still as a statue.

Sarcel had remained quiet for the majority of the discussion, seated in the back with her hands in her lap. She was quite content watching the discussion flip back and forth between the adults and the others, as she really didn't have a whole lot to add to the discussion anyway. She had the evidence she had found, but it had already been well passed off to Alifax, which speaking of...

Had he always been like this? Sure they were friends (she thought anyway; they were right?) and they had this FLARP.... thing.... and she always considered Alifax smart, but the way he was taking charge of the situation was sort of... she couldn't place it really, but she was cheering for him in silence. Of course, it was a group effort and all; Kursha had his share to add to the equation too, and Eostre as well. Maybe she was just biased. Actually, that was a pretty logical conclusion. She was pretty biased, but still...

Anyway, it didn't really matter. Leaning back in the chair, Sarcel gave a sideways look at the wall, reaching to remove her mask. Though it only covered half of her face, it still felt a little stuffy, and given that the party was well past it's expiration date, there was hardly a need for it. Actually, hey.

"Erilyn Awassi," Sarcel's voice was rather calm and composed. Actually, she felt pretty damn collected. "E-Earlier you said s-something interesting... r-regarding Comedi; you mentioned t-that you had suspicions t-that he was the true target. Why?"

All of the evidence thus far seemed pretty incriminating for Erilyn, but Sarcel was still trying her best to with hold final judgement. Her gaze was rather trusting, imploring. She had no idea if this had any sort of connection with the actual murder, but maybe hearing Awassi's side would shed some more light on the entire situation.

Tamiya had had enough. First of all, the horrendous and totally unloveable Leeroi Furore had said a piece possibly implicating someone other than Awassi (namely, a particular Clown Ambassador), and now she realized that he might in fact be in grave danger.

“The Major is right! Erilyn is ding dong dead anyway; we could have a greater squirtwrithing bleeder issue on our hands. Gerard and Brother Comedi may either be dead, in mirthless danger – certainly not undead, but if that is a concern then we should set off at once and stop this gog-awful excuse for lacey-a** debate. It is time to tally the votes of ******** judgement, I say! Let Awassi suffer for their crimes and may justice reign again.” Tamiya brought her hand down on the table, glaring heatedly at Awassi. There was no excuse for a rebel sympathizer, and their potential poisoning and framing of Comedi made her blood boil.

Ҕᾁʐɱᾁʂ Ҏӫςɧῒɱ
xxxxCentral Hivestem || Rumpus Block
The young greenblood laced his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands. He hadn't been able to see much from his vantage point in regards to Puchen's hands, but he did see the way she watched the post card flip to and fro in the blueblood's hands. Kursha seemed to be on top of it though. If that postcard and info on the rumor surrounding Puchen, then it could either land her on the chopping block or save her hide.

Hoping Kursha would put those together, along with all the other evidence the teen had gathered on Puchen, Hazmas turned to his attention to Awassi. Leeroi was right. There was way too much stuff that would get Awassi killed if it were found, stuff any sane troll would want to keep under lock and key - which either meant someone was trying to expose her or she had a death wish. But she honestly seemed far too calm, all things considered. After all, she was the prime suspect.

"Hmmm, you seem pretty calm for someone in your situation, Awassi," Hazmas remarked coolly, "like someone who's already come to terms with the possibility of being culled. Looking at Leeroi's evidence, it would seem to my think sponge that Comedi was the killer - if I didn't see him so on edge in the dining hall while I was poking around and when he was talking to you. Also, after talking with him and seeing the damage he's done to your hive, poison doesn't seem to fit his personality. That leaves me thinking that Gerard's more than likely the killer, what with him having poison in his bag and all. But what really gets me, is that there's evidence that you had clues planted in your hive that you probably knew would lead right up to you."

He paused, giving Awassi a look that was more concerned than accusing. "Why would you do that? Are you trying to get yourself culled on purpose or.. are you trying to protect someone too?"

He frowned and unlaced his fingers before continuing, "I heard a rumor that Epratt wasn't really dead and I found a pill of unknown contents between his seat cushions. There's also evidence going around of him hunting lusii and orphaning trolls, trolls who might be out to get him. With you more than likely being in a blackrom with him, I wouldn't consider it above or beyond you to stage all this-" He gestured vaguely to the hive and everyone around them. "-to keep him safe by faking his death. That would give you a motive to plant evidence while explaining the pill and Comedi's rage towards Epratt - as seen in what he did to the high art the old sea dweller gave you."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Of course, I never got the chance to see Epratt's body, so I can't say yay or nay. But it would make sense, wouldn't it?"

Azrael looked thoughtful at the suspects. As far as he'd seen in lerroi's notes, Erilyn was the most suspicious person, but it was too convenient and the last thing he wanted was to help condemn an innocent person. The young blueblood folded his arms as he thought over the evidence. "The evidence is stacked against our host and as much as I hate to say it, I don't think it can be overlooked," Azrael clicked his tongue a bit as he chose his words with an attempt at indifference. Erilyn was probably dead anyway with all the votes against them. But could he bring himself to write a tally? Be another blow towards the greenblood's death? Azreal felt his head spin. No, he couldn't do that, he didn't want to do that. Azrael rubbed his arms and thought about what he'd said to Hazmas about facing fears.

In the end, he couldn't vote on anyone and took a seat to watch what would happen next. Someone else who knew better than he did was going to figure it out no doubt.

Erilyn Awassi
Sitting quietly, a small smile on their face, Erilyn declined to comment immediately on all the questions that had been flung back at them following their initial statement. They watched each troll that went up to mark on the wall, and they watched as the score count under their name grew. And then, abruptly, they stood up. "It seems that you all have worked very hard to present a lovely case against me. You've also got a lovely collection of my handwriting - I applaud your strenuous efforts and rampant theft of various private and sentimental objects from my hive." Drawing their shawl close around them, they began to slowly walk around the room as they continued, turning to face the crowd as they did. "I can see everyone's become quite confused though - what with bits and pieces of the truth being overlayed by lies. You're all too young to realize that though, and seem to be trying to piece together a reality that never existed. Most trolls your age would make the same mistake though, and would only learn to be more discerning with age and experience."

Pausing in the centre of the room, Erilyn produced a few small vials from inside their shawl and showed them to the crowd. "Here are the only drugs I have handled tonight. They are sedatives, taken from the medical chest and administered to Comedi. He was displaying signs of agitation, and was beginning to act out violently. It is encouraged by his faith, but sometimes he has a hard time channelling it properly - this is a procedure I have done many times before." Tucking the vials away again, they turned to different specific trolls in the crowd, addressing them specifically.









As they talked, they continued on their slow pace around the room. As they reached the end of their address to the last troll, they drew up beside a long curtain, hanging from the wall with the questions the queen had scrawled on it. "I suppose it doesn't matter what I say at this point. If we look at things objectively, I am the only one it all points to. Epratt seems to have been poisoned. There are two sources of poison in this hive. If it's true that the same white flakes you all seemed so eager to discuss quietly - we could hear you from the table, you know - were in the glasses of faygo my dear... friend ... Comedi was drinking, and were what caused his outbursts and physical reactions, then it seems to be quite different from the poison used on Epratt, which produced no physical reactions whatsoever. Apart from death. Therefore we are left with the bottle in the cupboard, along with the lovely note, which links them quite firmly to me. And as dear Schrad said, what troll truly needs a proper reason to cull another?"

Turning, Awassi pressed their hand against the wall. A hissing noise gently began to fill the room. Turning their head back to look at the room, Awassi's voice, which had been cheerful and familiar up until now, was now as cold as ice. "While I thank those of you who felt enough pity for me to try and argue against my guilt, I don't need the assistance of other trolls, let alone children to survive. I think you will all find that I'm quite capable of outlasting all of you, especially as, as many of you pointed out, this is my own hive. Have a lovely evening." Brushing the curtain aside and stepping behind it, Awassi abruptly vanished from the room.

Erilyn has disappeared into a hidden door behind a curtain - and all the paintings in the room have begun to weep a thick, vaguely visible gas that begins to snake around on the floor, slowly rising into the air. Within the bowls of the hive, strange groans and creaks can be heard. The other adults have begun to rise quickly, beginning to make their way to the door. What will you do?

A.1] Help other trolls out
There's a lot of confused kids in the room, and friends and allies as well as mortal enemies. You find yourself calm and collected enough to consider making sure everyone gets out of the room safely - and decide to follow through on that idea.

A.2] Push your way to the exit
Whatever is leaking out of those paintings is something that you will not, in any circumstances, be breathing in. You resolve to be one of the first trolls out of the room, even if it means walking over the backs of others.

A.3] Investigate the wall
Your eyes stay focused on the area of the wall Awassi touched before escaping. If something there triggered the gas, maybe you can turn it off? You resolve to check that out first thing, rather than risk any more gas escaping into the house.

A.4] Investigate the curtain
You're not sure why everyone else is running away from Erilyn when they finally revealed themselves to be the culprit - or at least, done a run for it. You're not about to let four hours of muck-raking go to waste, and begin to search around behind the curtain for their exit.

A.5] Panic and run around the room
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! GAS! SHOUTING! MOVEMENT! You run around in circles, forgetting where the exit is in your panic. Good job soldier.

It's everyone's favourite game, the CYOA! Your troll will begin with 10 ✦sleuthsparks✦, the exciting new currency to represent their ability to give anymore ******** about this ridiculous party. During the cyoa, certain options and choices will decrease or increase your ✦sleuthsparks✦. If your ✦sleuthsparks✦ have decreased to zero, your troll is totally and utterly done, and will be unable to progress forward. Instead, they will either sit and wait for the madness to be over, go knock on the front door until someone opens, or taking any other option that involves them trying to retreat from the adventure. They will not be able to pick any future cyoa options.

Each post containing your option must also include min 100 words. Trolls must all move individually - if you do not take an option for a day you will lose 4 ✦sleuthsparks✦. You will also be able to select what your troll did the previous day from a smaller list of the previous options, as a few will become unavailable. The selected option must be noted in your post along with your current option, for a total of 200 words. Any decisions that result in lost ✦sleuthsparks✦ must be added on in addition to the 4 ✦sleuthsparks✦ loss.

Tamiya chooses path A.4]

“DECEIVER!” Tamiya shrieked. She stood with a whirl and screamed after Erilyn, immediately leaping over the table that stood in her way. A crash. The juggalo’s fingers scraped against the curtain as she batted against it, hoping to find the exit that the greenblood had taken. “YOUR AGENTS OF EVIL HAVE BEEN HARBORED FOR SO LONG THAT YOUR OWN BLOOD HAS BEEN TAINTED WITH THEIR SINS. The evil has a new host! The creature lives on inside of you, wretched fiend! Come here and I will deliver you… Come here…”

Purple spittle flung from her mouth as she scrabbled towards Erilyn. Tamiya’s breath was halted and her voice cranked low with threatening scripture. “Infused with yellow cowardice, antipathy, ambivalence, your songbird screech does not surpass your deliverance…. Wickedness follows wickedness. Let us get down to this. Sick. Business.”

**full sparkles**