Yet again I find myself in the middle of a murder case, yet this time I find myself in the rather miserable position of someone who spent time at the crime scene. Wonderful.
Truthfully, I simply left my room at the beginning of the night and set up a camera in the Kitchen Set. Why? Well, I trust someone else can explain it to you, I'm sure someone had the experience of viewing what I recorded here, and likewise I hope that they were truly enlightened by the experience. Nonetheless, this was strictly a recording, and I showed it off far later than I actually recorded it.
I passed by Luthier as I went upstairs to Broadcasting, where I...
Well, I suppose it's time for a roleclaim, isn't it? I have no reason to lie, nor do I wish to obfuscate the rudimentary, intentionally theatrical parts of my actions, so against my better judgement, I'll be honest. I have the password to Gordon Ramsay's broadcasting equipment, I can broadcast to any screen I wish. Good thing too, I highly doubt he's capable of even the most rudimentary of broadcasts himself. I set up my video to show on every screen in the building, strictly to showcase my superior content, of course.
I left after that, and went to record a speech in the recording booth. This was interrupted though of course, by that girl who prepared cod for me on the previous night. She unnerved me, you see. I'm not typically wont to care about such matters, but she resorted to throwing entire chickens over a balcony, which seems to be a waste of perfectly good poultry, honestly. My role group reads "chef", so unfortunately I am obligated to pay attention to these things.
When I leave, I see her now fishing off the edge of the stair railing, presumably for the very much dead chickens she had formerly thrown over. Such pathetic redundancy does nothing to convince me of your worth, you know.
After this point, I meet up with my fellow monarchs for a night of drinking at the nearest inn, accompanied by Diona, who compels me to continually consume mug after mug of increasingly unpalatable ale. Afterwards, I was in no such mood to further engage with anything of note, so I went to bed alongside the other kings.
Anyone is welcome to inspect my footage, by the way. I trust they'll find nothing amiss, as I did not commit the crime.
Truthfully, I simply left my room at the beginning of the night and set up a camera in the Kitchen Set. Why? Well, I trust someone else can explain it to you, I'm sure someone had the experience of viewing what I recorded here, and likewise I hope that they were truly enlightened by the experience. Nonetheless, this was strictly a recording, and I showed it off far later than I actually recorded it.
I passed by Luthier as I went upstairs to Broadcasting, where I...
Well, I suppose it's time for a roleclaim, isn't it? I have no reason to lie, nor do I wish to obfuscate the rudimentary, intentionally theatrical parts of my actions, so against my better judgement, I'll be honest. I have the password to Gordon Ramsay's broadcasting equipment, I can broadcast to any screen I wish. Good thing too, I highly doubt he's capable of even the most rudimentary of broadcasts himself. I set up my video to show on every screen in the building, strictly to showcase my superior content, of course.
I left after that, and went to record a speech in the recording booth. This was interrupted though of course, by that girl who prepared cod for me on the previous night. She unnerved me, you see. I'm not typically wont to care about such matters, but she resorted to throwing entire chickens over a balcony, which seems to be a waste of perfectly good poultry, honestly. My role group reads "chef", so unfortunately I am obligated to pay attention to these things.
When I leave, I see her now fishing off the edge of the stair railing, presumably for the very much dead chickens she had formerly thrown over. Such pathetic redundancy does nothing to convince me of your worth, you know.
After this point, I meet up with my fellow monarchs for a night of drinking at the nearest inn, accompanied by Diona, who compels me to continually consume mug after mug of increasingly unpalatable ale. Afterwards, I was in no such mood to further engage with anything of note, so I went to bed alongside the other kings.
Anyone is welcome to inspect my footage, by the way. I trust they'll find nothing amiss, as I did not commit the crime.