In Trip's Pad...
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![[Image: ZDKzwkJ.png]](https://i.imgur.com/ZDKzwkJ.png)
"Trust me, dudes. I'm glad I'm not dead too. I thought it was all over when that clown whacked me, but... I woke up in the attic all tied up and... without my clothes. Glad I remembered to bring extras because like, I woulda been screwed.
Who was it that tied me up again? The rat chick? Not cool, man. Not cool."
![[Image: DCkl95s.png]](https://i.imgur.com/DCkl95s.png)
"But... my plan worked, right? Looks like the bear's not active anymore.
Does this mean that that Archivist dude is gonna survive? I mean, I know he's a killer but like... He killed the chick who's been trying to mow me down for days, can I really complain?"
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As if on cue, the Archivist suddenly begins to keel over in pain. Blood explodes from vessels all over half of his body, and his eye begins to cloud with crimson. On his hands and knees, he crouches, panting and coughing. He pauses to wipe blood from his mouth, before retching and vomiting up an obscene amount of the red fluid.
He raises a hand weakly, then collapses to the ground in his own bloody vomit. Looks like he's died.
Execution or not, a forbidden action has been broken.
---
His role was
The Archivist
You are Jonathan Simms, head archivist at the Magnus Institute, but you knew that already, didn’t you? You know a lot of things, many of them you probably shouldn’t, including the fact that coming out to this island is a bad idea. Still though, you feel an irresistible compulsion, a hunger. So, off to the haunted island you go. Wonderful.
You are a partial avatar of a strange and otherworldly entity known as The Eye, an embodiment of the primal fear of being observed, of having your secrets exposed. Once per night, you may harness this power to draw a Statement out of someone. This statement will fully reveal their plans for the night, although not the results of those actions, as their plans are still in motion as you speak. This is a slow and painful process (for the one having the statement drawn out, anyway), and it will be recorded in full for posterity and evidence on a tape recorder located in the room.
Don’t worry about the fact that you didn’t bring along a tape recorder. There’s always a tape recorder.
As an avatar of The Eye, you also have a strong sense of premonition, and a healthy heaping of luck, the latter of which might honestly be unrelated. As a result, it is hard to die to an area kill or a trap, unless there is no other possible outcome.
Despite all this though, something about this place just feels… wrong, and not like the kind of wrong you’re used to. You sense something unnatural, something evil. A presence on this island that should not be. Oh well, you’re sure it’s nothing.
"Well, that sucks. Not sure I could've done much about that, though. But wait, that role description... there's no Forbidden Action there?"
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Meanwhile, in the workshop, a shadowy figure looks down at the disassembled pieces of Monokuma. They reach down, and pick up the power meter in his head. The meter begins to spike uncontrollably, maxing out the readings. After a couple seconds, it shuts down with a fizzling pop.
The figure sighs, and tosses it over his shoulder. Worthless piece of shit.
This was almost EASIER with that fat fucking King of Town. At least he had... stability. Well, in the physical sense, anyway. Mostly.
Oh well. The Project Terror Actualizer worked as well as it was going to with only a small chunk of crystal to draw power from, and while the Emulator was... probably fucked, none of that was the real focus.
Maybe it was time to try a different course of action. Perhaps throwing animatronics at people and sneaking around assaulting people who get in your way isn't as effective as it once was. A shame, but that's how it goes, he supposed.
As he walked outside into the twilight, a thought crossed his mind. He turned his gaze over to Trip's pad, and the gears began to turn.
It's time things got a little more personal.
