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suitedreams2022-06-12 08:30 am
guestservices) wrote in suitedreams2022-06-12 08:30 am
Entry tags:
WEEK 0 - EXECUTION
W̴͍̎E̴̝̊E̸͚͝K̸͕̿ ZERO: EXECUTION
By now, you've all got to be expecting it. Time marches on, and as Sunday morning arrives, you'll find yourself rising from your bed around 9. It starts off as a gentle suggestion, a feeling that you're going to be late for something. Aren't you going to be late for something?
Whether you answer that call or not, eventually, you'll find yourself walking directly down to the lobby, to a room that has so far been locked. All of you stand in front of a pair of golden doors, blocked off by a red velvet rope.
There's a moment of silence, and then a strange clattering noise. The doors fly open, and you'll find that you're standing in a darkened room where rows and rows of blue velvet seats lead up to a stage. The stage in front of you is covered with a pair of matching, rich blue velvet curtains, emblazoned with the logo of the Starlight Hotel.
Welcome, everyone, to the Starlight Theater.
You'll find yourself feeling like you must sit. You can choose your seat, but every seat in the house in the Starlight Theater guarantees a perfect view of the stage - there's no hiding. Should you try to merely stand, you'll find a pair of hands on your shoulders, and your body will move along without your permission into a seat. For those of you looking at your less cooperative friend, you might see the figure walking them to their seat is skeletal in nature, almost dancing behind them as they're ushered into their seat.
In fact... The empty seats in the theater are already filled. Skeletons sit in each empty seat, but make no mistake, audience: they clatter and move around, excited. Some of them are holding popcorn. Some of them look at you, then at the screen, eager. Others raise their arms to flag something, or someone - shadowy ushers burst from the floor and provide refreshments - and skeletons pour drinks down their nonexistent throats and stomachs, slurping at straws in a way that should be impossible.
Eventually, the bone clattering stops, and a hush falls over the crowd. Looking around, you might have noticed that one of your own didn't make it to the theater - Sheila Hammond is not among you.
Perhaps she's backstage?
You don't get much time to think about it, though. The lights dim, and a pair of spotlights spin arches across the curtains, as somewhere, a drumroll plays.
Lights, camera, action!
N̸A̵V̴I̶G̶A̶T̴I̴O̸N̷.̷
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This again... [ STOP KILLING WITH PENS!!!!! ] Whether he deserves this or not, I cannot stand this place.
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[ ... ]
I doubt this is how she would have preferred this happen, but that does not matter now.
[ she's dead. sieghart will be too. and then sheila goes for an unfortunately gruesome killing blow, all things considered. ]
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...I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I'm starting to feel a little bad for him.
[ (all it took was the tip...) THEY HAVE TO JUST SIT HERE WAITING FOR HIM TO DIE FROM A PEN...? ]
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We need to stop using pens as murder weapons.
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[ wtf ]
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Once. Once was enough.
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These things really are just as humiliating and distasteful as possible.
[ says zuko, shirtless. ]
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You do not have permission to speak to me until you put on clothes.
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...Pens. [ WELL, OKAY THEN. ]
[ he visibly grimaces when sheila picks up the chair, and then... the typewriter... ]
I can't bear to watch.