TRIAL XCI; PLAY BY THE FUCKING RULES

Adam rolled over much as a teenager avoiding school and responsibility; slinging one arm over his eyes and pulling up the covers with the other. Granted, there were no covers, and he found he had very little space to properly roll over. He muttered to himself, something to the effect of, five more minutes, please, fuck off already.

It was a trial, he already knew that much. Likewise, he knew how much he didn’t want to deal with the headache trials invariably brought. He did, in any case, still try and roll onto his side, seeking the comfort of bending his back even further out of shape, eyes still screwed shut to block out reality.

And of course, he had to be rudely dragged out of it by the feeling, and the noise, of something falling off from his torso, sliding down whatever his make-shift bed was, and away from him.

Finally, reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

Terrific. Awesome, really, he swears. Gotta love to be sent to wake up in the room you were meant to die in, it’s always a real treat. Even the same spot, he mused, gripping the sides of the cold metal tub for leverage as he pried himself upright. Less wet this time, he supposed, for all that was worth.

He leaned up, fully now, in search of whatever fell away from him. Let it be a key, let this be over quick. Of course, were there a key, it would’ve been too much like last time for his comfort. It would’ve slid down the drain again, anyway, wouldn’t it? Just to rub it in.

This new object was kinder in that regard. Too large to fall all the way down the pipes and away from him. Stuck by its hard corners, a small tape, suspended in the drain.

Adam sighed, deep, low, and tired.

He knows the tape recorder came from his pocket, he knew it was there somehow, but it’s path from there to his hand is fuzzy, blurred negatives as he fumbles with the tiny tape, slotting it into the player with little thought. Second nature.


He breathes out, slow.

Hey, Mandy.


...See you soon, I guess.


And hello to you, too, John.

John’s words mean precious little to him, just like the first time he suffered through the spiel. Pompous, obnoxious, things Adam was well accustomed to. They sting, of course, they always will. He lost a part of himself, here, in this shitty fucking bathroom. John’s voice will always be a reminder of that.

But that doesn’t matter so much, now that he’s lost… well, all the rest of himself, too. But, even still…

He flips the ejected tape over in his hands, examining the hard plastic, scrutinizing. It has no secrets to reveal to him, there’s no more puzzles for him to solve that can get him out of this. It’s just him, Amanda, and whoever unlucky bastards got stuck with the both of them.

He wants to roll over. Let whatever happens this trial, happen. He’s already done this, all of this, and he knows where he’s supposed to end up. Let everyone else figure out their own endings to this shitty game.

But it’s not fair, and he knows that. He won’t weigh them down, won’t make it harder on them than it needs to be, just because he’s got his own shit he needs to work through. So he lifts himself back up, slings a leg over the edge of the bath, and plants his feet on the tile. He’s psyching himself up, now. Scrubbing his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He stands, slowly, always mindful of his leg.

(He pockets the tape, and the recorder, as he stands. He might need something of a reminder, later, not to give up. Amanda’s voice will do well for that.)

He meanders to the gen, lowering himself slowly. The panel is already open, like always, inviting him in. Let’s just get this over with, he thinks, connecting the same burnt-out wires as ever, hoping they’ll hold a connection one more time.

---

Min’s head always felt foggy at the beginning of a trial. Once the fog surrounded her to take her to a trial where she could run for her life, the fog seemed to stay in her head. Her body ached, every bone and muscle seemed to creak and ache as she attempted to compose herself.

A nearby TV clicks on, a familiar face. A nearby TV clicks on, a familiar face. Amanda Young. She adjusts the camera, taking a step back. Behind her there’s more TV with static on them. She’s not wearing the outfit she’s normally in, the red shirt with cargo pants… The red stayed, but it’s a jacket now. Notably, there’s a hood on it. Not much more is visible in the video though. Amanda takes a deep breath, crossing her arms. There’s a long few moments of dead air, fussing with fabric, gathering her thoughts.

The noise alerts Min’s attention towards the TV. Her eyes become fixed on it. She always found it interesting how.. This all seemed to work. Her phone would rather blow up than work, but here she was staring at a fully working TV. She almost forgot to pay attention to the actual contents on the TV.

Finally, she looks up at the camera, with unbreaking eye contact.

She put her attention on the other woman, eyes burning into her through the screen.

”Hello, Feng. Time is a cruel mistress, isn’t it? You began playing online games, and it consumed you.you could have been so much more than that, had you focused on your school.”

Already to a bad start, Min could feel herself almost having a physical reaction to the words. They didn’t.. Hurt. Who was she kidding, of course she was already hurt. She could feel her anger levels rising as the tape continued.

Amanda shifts her posture, it feels like she’s recalling what she has to say next, what The Entity is supplying her about Min.

Min felt relieved when Amanda paused, though she knew it wouldn’t last long before she would continue to run her mouth.

You didn’t, though. You decided to go into ‘e-sports’. Disappoint your parents, become The Shining Lion. You’re everything on-line that you wish you could be in real life; adored, successful. You were free of the real world, for a little while. Until you pushed yourself to the limit, and miles past it. What did you get from pushing yourself? Could you not just relish in the feeling of success? You turned to alcohol, and self-destruction.”

Amanda goes through every mistake Min ever made, she drills them into her mind just as everyone else did. All her friends, family and even herself. Amanda was just reminding her of everything she already knew. She clenched her first, ready to turn away from the tape.

The first of a few times that Amanda breaks eye contact, uncomfortable with acknowledging the fact. Sharing something personal about herself. It was a necessary evil, would be her reasoning. She broke eye contact a few more times as she continued to speak:

You had an intention, in that way you and I aren’t so different. We latch onto something, and drive ourselves into the ground for it. The only difference is that once I was saved, and now I’ve saved myself. Maybe you can do the same.”

Min raises an eyebrow, almost impressed with Amanda for being able to share something so personal but before she could really force herself to feel bad. Amanda ruins it. This was just some sick and cruel therapy session for Min? Was that it? What a pretentious fucking bitch!

Not even seconds after the tape ends, Min (Using quite a bit of her strength.) pushes the tv. It makes a harsh, loud crash onto the floor. “What do you fucking know about me? We’re nothing alike! I’m not a psychotic bitch who tries to justify murder because I have daddy issues! What the fuck kind of message is that. Fuck this damn place and fuck you!” She yells towards the TV.

Before she storms off to find others, she kicks the TV. (A big mistake on her part cause OUCH!).

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Technican 1, Lithe 1
relaxed bun, day off wrap, soft track pants