1. Bromeo Must Die

[decryptic]

Characters: 9S | The Scholar, Alfyn | Johnny Appleseed, and you!
Campaign: Hollow Christmas Carol, Act II, Scene 5
Format: [ brackets ]
Open!
Summary: Ebegeeser and the Horseman of Christmas Present debate the life and death of Bromfred. Also, 9S kills time around the manor.



[ A: Scene 5 (closed to Alfyn)

9S's journal lights up red, which means it's time to play the part. He straightens from where he's been leaning on the second story banister, watching the couples dance below. He straightens out the coat of his modified outfit before scribbling out a message to Alfyn. His handwriting is uniform, almost text-like. ]

Hey, Alfyn. It looks like you're my Horseman. Can you meet me upstairs or is your horse going to be a problem?

[ Because 9S hated his own pony enough to start feeling prejudiced about all ponies, apparently. ]


[ B: Warming up (open)

Lacking a sword, 9S equips himself with a floor candelabra almost as tall as he is. It hovers a foot off his back, because magnets. Inside the manor, he finds an empty-enough space and practices with his new weapon.

He doesn't swing the candelabra as much as let it flow from him. He moves in staccato bursts, his form a study of some ancient martial art. With his every punch and twist, the candelabra swings out untouched -- a trick of magnetic levitation he adapted to this unintended use. Though his limbs are shorter and weaker than a combat model's, his entire body's momentum goes into the freewheeling spin of the candelabra as it whirls before him, around him, and stabs at imaginary opponents.

He grunts with exertion, making his presence obvious to anyone passing nearby. ]


[ C: Manor defense (open)

9S's interest in song and dance is purely observational, so there's that much less for him to do around the manor. He defaults to standing outside with his not-very-menacing floor candelabra, extremely prepared to clobber any blots who seem a little too rowdy.

If anyone steps out to join him, he'll mutter: ]

Have you seen that old bearded creep wandering around? I just know he's plotting something.


[ D: Cabin fever (open)

Time is doing something strange and messing with his internal clock. It feels like they've been in this manor forever, and 9S can only fiddle with code and practice his candelabra skills for so long before restlessness catches up with him. Desperate, he picks up his medallion and complains at it. ]

I'm starting to go nuts in here! What do you guys do for fun? I'm willing to try anything to beat this boredom.

Comments

A: Scene 5

[apothecarry]

[Alfyn, struggling with the logistics of getting into his own costume, offers a consoling pat to his horse and considers the stairs. His handwritten message back is quite legible and a bit spindly - not at all like what 9S might have heard in his legends of doctors' penmanship or anything. Alfyn has to be able to read his own notes and so do other people!]

The horse is fine. Getting me up there, now that's a trial.

[He's wearing a box.

Badly, too. By the time he gets up to 9S's level, the box is kind of rumpled and some of the wrapping is torn and dangling, but Alfyn himself bears enough cheer for several festive spirits.]

[decryptic]

... Uh.

[ 9S stares up at Alfyn, his journal still open in hand. His 120th century processor seems to blip for a long second, uncomprehending. Then he snaps his journal shut. ]

You're looking festive. Did you need help getting out of that?

[apothecarry]

I think I've got to stay in it. [He just beams.] I'm the Horseman of Christmas Presents!

[Which! He has read about! The holiday and its traditions. From somewhere inside the box, he produces...

...a brilliant red apple! With a green ribbon carefully tied around it and secured in a festive, lopsided bow.]

And I've brought one for you!

[decryptic]

I don't think that means what -- oh, thanks.

[ 9S is successfully distracted by the apple! He takes it and... holds it. What else is he supposed to do with it. ]

Anyway, listen, Alfyn. I've been thinking about the scene we're in, and I think I -- that is, Ebegeeser -- should go ahead with killing Bromfred.

[apothecarry]

What?

[If he had something in his hand to drop he would have dropped it. As it is, his jaw drops instead, and he shakes his head fast and looks around to make sure no one's overhearing.]

You can't just...do that!

[decryptic]

Well... why not? It's just a story, right? I'm not really killing anyone.

[ He tucks his journal away and sets the apple on the banister. ]

Every story gets a little juicier when murder's involved. And the contrast between Ebegeeser when he was a schoolteacher and Ebegeeser when he's willing to stick a fork in someone would be a lot more thought-provoking, if you ask me. Who likes safe stories, anyway?

[apothecarry]

[Alfyn likes safe stories!]

First of all, what if that means you really do have to...to attack and hurt the person who's Bromfred right then?

[He looks down at the whirl of festive blots and how easy it is to pick out others like him among them. The plea for mercy is plain on his face when he turns back to 9S again.]

What if he still has a chance to do some good in this world? He just doesn't know it yet. What if both of them do?

[decryptic]

If that's the case, then I obviously won't kill him. I'll... tie him up and stuff him in a closet, maybe?

[ Oh--!! ]

Do you have any of your apothecary-type concoctions on you? Like something to make someone go to sleep?

[ Not even addressing the last part because.................... frankly 9S doesn't care sorry ]

[apothecarry]

[Good thing Alfyn's whole point here is to make him care.]

I would if I had my bag with me. I've been studyin' what's available in town, and-

[He's getting distant from the thing he came to do.]

Listen, if you agree to just put him in a closet somewhere, that'd be really great.

[decryptic]

Only if going through with the kill would actually hurt someone.

[ He lifts a hand to punctuate his points, getting more animated now. ]

Because think about what leaving him alive would mean for the story: Bromfred eventually escapes, then snitches on Ebegeeser. Even if Bromfred didn't actually have visual confirmation that it was Ebegeeser, he'd probably raise a stink and make Ebegeeser suspect number one. Killing Bromfred is way tidier if you think in the long-term.

[apothecarry]

I am thinkin' long-term.

[Alfyn doesn't believe killing is ever the right answer; he was confronted with it once and struggled for weeks afterward over what he really believed, and what was best for people. Some of that same cutting desperation edges back into his heart.]

All you'll do is make the worst come true; Beltrina'll have no one and she'll hate the guy who really loves her. What good would that do? At least if it's a prank or something the misunderstanding can get explained.

[Giving 9S a still-negative out wasn't in the plan. Alfyn shifts uncomfortably inside the wrapped box.]

You'd be taking the futures from more people than Bromfred.

[decryptic]

[ Alfyn's way of thinking is... very foreign to him. Puzzling, actually. To 9S, Ebegeeser and Bromfred and Beltrina are all just hypothetical people. Furthermore, no android he ever spoke to seemed so genuinely distressed over the fate of a complete (hypothetical) stranger. Is Beltrina's happiness really that important?

9S is still certain that his argument is sound, but he isn't callous enough to think he should get his way for the sake of it. He prefers to support, not lead, after all, and a small part of him doesn't want to upset his first human. He continues more slowy, relenting. ]

Of course, the key would be making the death seem like an accident. But... if you feel that strongly about it, I'll just ditch the plan. Anything short of killing him wouldn't make much sense.

[apothecarry]

[He...thought he'd have to argue harder. The relief washing over him is as evident as all his usual delight, and he holds onto the balcony rail a bit, just in case. Alfyn is overcome. It's not that unusual.]

Really? Shucks, that's great to hear, Nines. Er, uh, Ebegeezer?

[He looks down at the party again and rubs his chin.]

If you wanted, for the sake of the story, I'd help you out with a different kind of prank, though. Nothin' too serious! But something the likes of what you were looking for during the school scene. [He shrugs, open-armed.] Can't take away all the fun, or I wouldn't be a great Christmas Spirit.

Cee

[starseeing]

[ She's only come out to get a breath of fresh air after enjoying the festivities. And, perhaps, having a bit too much of mulled wine, but shh.... ] 9S, whoemever are you talking about?

[ She hasn't see this shady-ass Santa Claus knock off yet. ]

[decryptic]

Oh, good evening, ma'am.

[ He stops staring into the abyss to look at Ophilia. ]

I swear there's someone slinking around out there. He's dressed in red and got this white, ratty beard. Little beady eyes, intense look? Once you spot him, you won't be able to get him out of your head.

[starseeing]

[ . . . ]

--Oh-- oh. I know him! Er, that is, I know of him. [ She seems excited enough to be able to identify who he's talking about. ] He's... part of a fairy tale! Not part of this one, I do not think, but of something else. [ She's done her research, having spent a lot of time in the library when she had first arrived in the realm. ]

Santa Clause, they call him-- although he is supposed to have gentle eyes, not beady ones.

[decryptic]

Santa Claws?

[ He repeats the name doubtfully. He hasn't run across that story yet. ]

What's his deal? And why's he gone all rabid?

[starseeing]

[ She brings a hand to her mouth, gasping. ] Rabid... with gifting presents?

[ ? ? ? ]

[decryptic]

[ A shrug. Rabies or some other weird affliction. ]

So he gives people gifts? What for?

[starseeing]

[ She brings a hand to her chin. ] To make others happy, I presume.

Why else would you give gifts?

[decryptic]

Well, sure, but it doesn't sound like he's your average friend trying to brighten up your day. Does he just give them out to anyone? What's the catch?

[ the S in 9S currently stands for SUSPICIOUS ]

[starseeing]

A catch, for giving gifts? [ A pause.... this boy. Really doesn't understand, does he? The idea of gift-giving! Even out to anyone on any day of the week!

DEMONSTRATION TIME. ]

9S, hold out your hand, please.

[ She says, undoing a single ribbon from her hair. ]

[decryptic]

[ He blinks (invisibly) and obediently holds out his hand... ]

Um, okay.

[starseeing]

[ She places the ribbon in the palm of his hand, and then curls his fingers over the cloth as if he might grasp it. ]

Now. [ She says quietly, closing her eyes. ] Tell me what is in your palm.

[decryptic]

[ He closes his hand over the ribbon, but carefully so as not to crush it. ]

... This seems like a trick question. It's your ribbon?