2nd Lie [Text]

[shslliar]

[Sometime during the first day of the event, a text message appears on the network.]

Okay, this forced truth thing is getting to me. As a self-proclaimed liar, I find that not even getting to say little white lies to make things better or, I dunno, actually lead to a better truth, is a violation of free speech.

So in protest, I'm just gonna duct tape my mouth shut and not speak for the rest of the event. Good luck getting anything out of me!

[A little more information than he would have liked, but he felt fit to send it anyway. If anyone responds, he's gonna reply on video. With duct tape on his mouth. Like a stubborn brat.]

Second Consensus Redux (Video, early morning)

[forwearemany]

(So who's up for another accidental video? Because Legion very obviously did not intend to start broadcasting just as they got back from a long nighttime stroll in the gardens, early on the first morning of the event.

They open the door to their room.

The exact angle of the recording device, the general weirdness of machine architecture and communication, and the sheer panic that seems to be occurring make it difficult to even parse what is going on, but the sounds of unhappy geth chattering are-

The door slams shut.)

No.

(They reach down to pluck their device from where they had it stored in their chesthole, and notice it's already recording. They chatter, mildly and not pleasantly surprised, before continuing.)

If you are not within your rooms at this time, we do not recommend returning to them. Additionally, we will not be in our room for the duration of this event.

Requesting that others do not attempt to enter.

voice

[directed]

[It's been—hell if he knows, truth be told. Minutes or hours or a bloody eternity sitting outside his own door, hearing the sounds of a battlefield in his memory, seeing the sight of them every time he closes his eyes. But the better part of him, the smarter part, the one that demands he be better has had the time needed to reason through what he knows. To recall the strings pulled to make the deaths of his family a reality, the betrayals and the lies, and the manipulations allowed by a machine Rip should be able to name, but can't.

The forgotten word.

There can be no one else responsible for this. It's simple logic, really. Three from their world, an experiment in the room done--nothing much; just long enough to punch one of Savage's troops but no action beyond that. He doesn't go down the path that only ever leads to one end. Just stays there long enough to be sure, before going back out, dropping into his spot, meaning to pick up his phone.

It's not a broadcast he cares to make. And he doesn't have to, the selfish part of him reasons out. But this event isn't just about the memories at play; it's far worse.]

By now I'm sure everyone's aware of the—alterations that have been made to our rooms. [Voice only; Rip doesn't feel like showing his face on the network. He's tired, though; that much can't be hidden.] Some of you may also have surmised that you can effect some manner of change to those events. Alter how they play out, and to that end you might well be tempted to try and change their outcomes.

Don't. [Steel finds its way into his voice now; resolve, though not for the sake of the warning.] No matter what you do, the end results will remain as they are. This event comes from my world, and one lesson: time wants to happen.

[And it's such a funny feeling, as he told Raymond once, to know the universe itself wants his family dead.

There are more details. Ones on the tip of his tongue and that's odd, that compulsion to say them. He doesn't really make note of it, however, instead uttering out one more thing before the feed abruptly ends.]

I am sorry.

video;

[noble_son]

[In short order, Nathaniel had decided that trying to help other people would be better than sitting around and feeling sorry for himself.]

It appears we've all been turfed out of our rooms for the most recent circus that Wonderland is running.

[Do any of them really want to hang around in their rooms with the worst thing that's happened in their life playing over and over? It's an exercise in frustration at its best, and psychologically breaking at its worst.]

There are unaffected rooms, but I... don't know if we can guarantee that what we're seeing won't shift to them if we try to move. [A sigh.] And I'm not going to be the one to offer to experiment with that.

I'd suggest we move into public spaces, until this is over. We should be able to get the supplies we need for that. ... I hope.

[The rogue pauses, then pulls in a quick breath and lets it out just as sharply.]

If anyone needs help... don't hesitate to ask.