Work Text:
Author’s Note: A “/” indicates that this is being said by another character overlapping the first.
(You find a second dusty tape lying under the bed in the same room, and place it into the player.)
LUCKY GUY:
-and it’s like, you can’t really tell… your teammate to piss off, but what if I want to, you know? What if I want to be alone while I decode? What if I’m fine being a little banged-up? But you’ve got this… a so-called medical professional breathing down your neck, telling you to let her heal you.
...Maybe I don’t want to be jabbed with that crusty syringe for the millionth time, okay, Ms. Dyer? I’ll just... suck it up. Or heal myself, for god’s sake. I know my veins better than you... Oh, is it on?
LUCA
Yeah, it’s, (laughs) it’s been on for like a full minute.
LUCKY GUY:
Oh, it’s fine, we’ll just remove it later. Is that possible?
LUCA:
Uh. I don’t think so. Wait-
(The sound of crackling, then six seconds of silence as the tape forwards to its next recording.)
LUCA:
-okay, it’s on.
LUCKY GUY: / LUCA: (Yeah, it’s “Lucky Seven.”)
...Alright, welcome, everyone, to, uh, I guess we were calling it “Lucky Seven?” Luca came up with it. I’m your host, Lucky, and today, we’re here with some survivors that live in the East Wing. To my left, we’ve got the “Barmaid,” Demi Bourbon!
DEMI:
Hi, everyone!
LUCKY GUY:
I see you’ve brought some drinks for everyone at the table. That’s very thoughtful of you. Before we continue, Ms. Demi, I have to ask: is “Bourbon” your real last name?
DEMI:
I’ll tell you if you tell me yours!
LUCKY GUY:
Haha, I, uh, would gladly take that trade if I still… remembered my last name. You don’t mind if I take a “Mango”… What is this?
DEMI:
“Mango Pep-Sei.” Something I came up with here at the manor. Careful! It’s a bit strong.
LUCKY GUY:
Oh, nice. Cheers. Next up, to my right is Murro! I mean, how can you even introduce - everyone knows Murro. Welcome to the table!
MURRO:
Hello!
LUCKY GUY:
I see your partner isn’t here with you?
MURRO:
Not right now, no. He’s taking a nap, and I’d hate to wake him.
LUCKY GUY:
I see. Well, maybe he can join us later, if he wakes up. I’m sure he’d have a lot to say!
MURRO:
Oh, no, I doubt it.
LUCKY GUY:
Ah, I- *cough*
*cough* *cough*
-Wait, is this drink spicy?! Demi, *cough* Why is the drink spicy???
DEMI:
What’s the problem? Are you a lightweight?
LUCKY GUY:
No! Holy hell, I can’t finish that.
LUCA:
Hey, pass it here. I want to try the spicy drink.
LUCKY GUY:
Jesus christ. Here, take it. Uhh, up next is the “First Officer,” Mr. Jose Baden! Thanks for joining us today.
JOSE:
No problem. Hey, everyone.
LUCKY GUY:
So, I’ve seen you use that pocket watch of yours magnificently in the manor games, and it’s saved a lot of people. The big question, though - does it still tell the time accurately?
JOSE:
Yes, it does still tell the time. I do have to reset the time quite frequently, because it tends to get stuck when something bad is about to happen.
LUCKY GUY:
Oh, man. That sounds useful, but I think I’d be scared out of my wits if it stopped on me.
JOSE: (lightheartedly)
Well, that’s why I’ve got the watch, and not you, yeah?
LUCKY GUY:
Haha, definitely. Last but certainly not least, Kurt Frank, the Explorer! Welcome, Kurt!
KURT:
Hey! Good to be here.
LUCKY GUY:
Kurt, I’m really glad you came on for this one in particular because I think you, more than anyone else in the manor, really, have so much to say and talk about.
KURT:
Oh, for sure. Hell, you should have seen what it was like for me just getting over here. That’s a story in and of itself.
MURRO: / JOSE: (Here we go…)
Oh, I do love your stories, Kurt, can you tell us what happened?
KURT:
Well, while I was walking through the hallway next to the boy’s bathrooms, there’s that one broom closet, you know?
DEMI:
The one labeled “A-2?”
KURT:
Yes, exactly, it’s that one, and I realized that I’ve never actually been inside this particular broom closet. So I peeked inside, as all brave-hearted explorers such as myself simply must do when there is an unopened door, and I heard a hissing sound, like steam coming out of a faucet.
LUCA:
...Have you heard steam coming out of a faucet before?
KURT:
Well, no, but it certainly sounded that way. And when I looked inside, there was a golden lamp, pouring steam out of its snout like a great angry boar, like Murro’s boar, even, and out of the lamp came a great green genie!
LUCKY GUY:
Wow. What did the genie say?
KURT:
Well, it offered me a wish, as genies typically must do. And I thought, well, what could I possibly wish for, now? There’s nothing an explorer like me needs that badly. So my wish was for the genie to come back in 10 years or so, and give me a wish then.
JOSE:
But wouldn’t that mean you had already fulfilled your one wish?
KURT:
The genie admired my patience and worldliness, I think, so it called this one free. And so, after that, the lamp went up in smoke along with the genie inside. And after that, I came here. So that’s the ending, I guess, the broom closet ending.
MURRO:
Do you think I could get a wish, too, if I went there?
DEMI:
Yeah, I want one. Where’s my wish?
KURT:
Probably not, unfortunately. But if you stick around for ten more years, I could put a good word in for you next time it shows up.
LUCKY GUY:
That’s neat, though I think you were right not to take the offer. Wishes aren’t really, uh, all what they’re cracked up to be, I think. But what about the rest of you - what would you wish for, had the ‘broom closet genie’ shown itself to you instead, and not Kurt?
MURRO: / KURT: (Hey, Ms. Demi, can you pass me more of the drink…)
I think... I’d ask for a lot of food, so much that I’d never be hungry, for me and my partner. And for everyone else too! I think that would be very nice!
JOSE:
We already get food here, you know? You can think a little bit bigger than that.
MURRO:
No, I don’t think so. Because we’re not going to be in this manor forever, so I’d like to always have something to eat. Don’t you agree?
JOSE:
What? Definitely not! I’ve got too much else to worry about than what’s on my plate at the end of the day. I was under the impression that everyone else had problems bigger than anything to end up here. Problems that you’d kill to have solved with a snap of your fingers like that.
DEMI:
Eh, I dunno. I came here to solve a problem, but I’m kind of past it at this point. Having a wish to spend only for yourself and what makes you happy would be pretty nice.
MURRO:
What about you, Lucky? What would you wish for?
LUCKY GUY: / JOSE: (You’re joking-)
Uh… nothing. I’d wish to forget that I met the genie and move on with my life. -Well, no matter what you wish for, you’re just going to regret it later, right? So it’s better not to get the wish at all.
JOSE:
That’s ridiculous. Utterly mad, really.
KURT:
Alright, then, what would you wish for?
JOSE: / KURT: (That’s three wishes.)
To find my father, get back our ship, and restore the Baden family name- Okay, just to find my father, then. We can figure out the rest... when we’re together.
MURRO:
I think that’s admirable of you, Mr. Baden. I wish I had something big like that to spend my wish on.
JOSE:
Ah, but I envy you, Murro. Would that I could spend my one wish on food…
DEMI:
Well, I mean, if I spent my one wish on reuniting with my brother, that wouldn’t be so bad. But at this point… I dunno how I’d be able to go back to just living life, you know? I kinda like the people here, too. So I think I’d spend my wish on...flying.
LUCKY GUY:
Flying?
DEMI:
Yeah! You see Ms. Anne gliding around on her wings all the time, why can’t I do that? Except I’d wish for real, actual wings, of course. So I could fly around whenever I want. That would be tops.
LUCA:
(Tops???)
LUCKY GUY:
I never really thought about that. Flying, huh. Honestly, I can imagine spending my wish on that.
DEMI:
Exactly! Birds have it good, Lucky.
MURRO:
Flying, I would love that! Though I guess my partner wouldn’t be able to come with…
KURT:
Well, if you made the boar fly, then you could fly on top of him! Haha! A flying pig!
MURRO:
He’s not a pig, he’s a boar!
KURT:
Is there a difference?
MURRO:
Of course there’s a-
JOSEPH:
What is all this racket?
(Beat.)
JOSEPH:
“Lucky.”
You invited me to your… table so that you could ‘document’ my ‘artistic talents.’ Why are there four other survivors with you? Why are they… inebriated?
DEMI:
You know, you look waaaaay shorter when you’re not trying to kill us.
JOSEPH:
You. I hate you.
LUCKY GUY:
Uh, welcome Joseph the Photographer to the table, everyone!
(A spattering of claps.)
JOSEPH:
Is that the alcohol?
DEMI:
Yes.
(Beat.)
JOSEPH:
Give it to me.
DEMI:
Here you are!
JOSEPH:
Thank you- it’s spicy. Why? Why is the drink spicy? What is wrong with you?
LUCKY GUY:
-So, Joseph, can you tell us about what you do as a photographer?
JOSEPH:
...I take pictures.
LUCKY GUY:
Yeah?
JOSEPH: / LUCA: (Oh, he’s going.)
Well, I doubt you’ll understand, but many things go into capturing an image. The lighting must reflect the mood you wish to present as the spirit of the scene. Every minute of the day, no, every second has its own spirit which is reflected in the final picture. But even this is mere decoration in the end when compared to the photograph’s true purpose.
LUCKY GUY:
Which would be your… ‘special ability’, correct?
JOSEPH:
You are... very dull to refer to it that way, but yes, in the absolute most simplified, diminished sense, it is a ‘special ability.’ One that all you 'players' are made subjects of. Even so, if you knew the truth of my camera, you would gladly give up your lives for my pictures. But no. You tackle me.
MURRO:
Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry.
JOSEPH:
And shock me.
LUCA:
Oops.
JOSEPH:
And shoot me.
LUCKY GUY:
...Ah. Sorry. But what is this, uh, ‘truth’, as you call it?
JOSEPH:
Hmph. Tell me, dullard - have you ever read “The Portrait of Dorian Gray”?
KURT:
Ah! I’ve read that one. It’s about a man who lives his life doing awful things, all while he stays young and attractive, and a painting of him becomes more hideous as it takes on his age and misdeeds! Splendid novel!
JOSEPH:
...Yes. The photo captures a moment in time, the very human soul, pristine and unconcealed - and then I am forced to tarnish my beautiful work through violence. I capture your sins, survivors. And force you to collide with them. But the spirit of my art is worth so much more than the pointless rage that this ‘game’ has revealed.
(Long pause.)
...Give me more of the spicy drink.
DEMI:
Here you go.
JOSEPH:
My god, it’s like lighting a match in your throat. Who would produce this? Or consume it willingly? You will give me a bottle.
DEMI:
Sure thing, gramps.
JOSEPH:
Oh, I hate you.
LUCKY GUY:
-Anyway, does anyone have any questions for, uh, Joseph here?
JOSE:
Yes. What do you know of the sword?
JOSEPH:
Pardon?
JOSE:
You swing it wildly. More like a baton than a blade. Who taught you such dreadful swordplay?
JOSEPH:
Why, you insolent wretch… Had I brought it along, I would show you firsthand just what kind of ‘training’ I have received in the sword.
JOSE:
So, I’m guessing none at all, then?
JOSEPH:
...I am an artist, not some brutish combatant. I would never use such a witless tool had I a choice. As a navy man yourself, I doubt you would fare any better in swordplay. Your measly kind is more at home sinking to the bottom of the ocean than crossing blades.
JOSE:
Oh, so that’s how we’re having it, is it? I bet you can barely hold that sword, what with your hands shaking so much, you codger-
MURRO:
-Please don’t fight! This simply isn’t the time or place…
JOSEPH:
You miserable guttersnipe. I’ll know who to visit first next time we meet in the games.
JOSE:
I’ll run circles around you, old man.
LUCKY GUY:
Uh. Let’s continue with questions.
DEMI:
Yeah, I have one. What do you do when you’re not stabbing us?
JOSEPH:
Hmph. I go on walks when the weather is good and sleep when I can.
DEMI:
Don’t you, like...take pictures outside the games?
JOSEPH:
Take pictures? Take pictures? Bar-maid, I have captured every inch of this manor in print. I have been here so long, and crafted so many images, I could recreate the entirety of this accursed place with my photo collection laid out side-by-side. Twice.
DEMI:
What about pictures of, you know, people?
JOSEPH:
Ha. If only I could. I am forbidden from capturing the likenesses of others in the manor, survivors and hunters alike.
MURRO:
Oh, that’s a real shame. I was hoping you could take a picture of me and my partner!
JOSEPH:
‘Partner’? You mean… Ah. Actually... I do not think there is any restriction on animals, though the thought has not particularly crossed my mind.
(Beat.)
You. I like you. Let me collaborate with your… ‘partner.’ For the sake of art.
MURRO:
Oh, you want to take a picture of him? That’s splendid! I’ll come find you when he’s up from his nap.
KURT: / JOSEPH: (Do not call me that.)
Hey, Jo. Have you taken any pictures you’re particularly proud of?
JOSEPH:
Your hideous choice of address aside… I am glad you asked. I did bring with me a collection of my favored works. Had I only known such genius would be wasted at this gathering of neanderthals... But perhaps I will show you one or two. As a treat.
(For a few minutes, the recording is quiet, with only enthused audience reactions to Joseph’s works breaking up the silence.)
LUCKY GUY:
...Incredible pictures, Joseph. Thanks so much for coming on and sharing. I think we’re just about out of time for today, and that seems to be all of the questions answered, so-
LUCA:
Hey, do you have fleas?
(Beat.)
LUCKY GUY:
...he’s leaving. Oh my god, Luca, you made him leave.
LUCA:
I just wanted to know! He’s old and French, he could have them… I’m only asking the questions the people want answered-
LUCKY GUY:
-Okay, thanks, everyone, for joining us for “Lucky Seven.” I’m, uh, going after Joseph to smooth things out a bit. Good luck out there, all you listeners! See you next time.
DEMI:
Bye!~
(The tape cuts out. End transcription.)