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[Fin] The Murder-Free Hotel
Ranma just eyes Busey with a deadpanned expression. ". . . Sad thing is, that's not the weirdest training exercise I've heard/been in. . ."
You know what they say. All toasters toast toast.
An enormous pile of miscellaneous items spills out of a closet, bringing with it... presumably a person. They're wearing multiple layers of armor, so it's kind of difficult to tell whether there's something under that armor or not. Rings, belts, necklaces, amulets, and brooches all hang from one another across the figure's body. Most of them are glowing faintly. The figure speaks. A monotonal, somewhat low pitched voice, made tinny by the helmet, but somehow unmuffled by the heavy scarf around her face.

Alright, this place is awful. I'm restricted from killing you. But at least you're all stuck here with me. Yeah. No escape from me until I find the exit to this place. And presumably, I can break your joints. It doesn't say "assault-free". Also, greetings other, new people, Name's Kellensea. Professional adventurer, government-toppler, social-contract forgoer, etcetera. And don't touch my stuff without permission.

She gestures to the pile of miscellaneous stuff.

If you do, I may not be able to kill you, but I will rip your leg bones out, sharpen them, and then cut out the rest of your bones and internal organs with the sharpened leg bones.
I am the They who says it!
"Oh, fuck..."

Whether this was a reaction to hearing about people being put in games even after dying, a reaction to seeing Kellensea, or both... isn't clear. (It's totally both.)
Stupid doomed timeline...
As soon as Kellensea entered, Ranma facepalmed and pulled his face down with a groaning "Oh god damn it, just as it was getting peaceful. . ." He looked at the others with a sigh. "That's Kellensea. All you need to know is she's an asshole who's more talk and thinks she's better than she really is."
You know what they say. All toasters toast toast.
Wow, you gotta tell me about these training exercises sometime. Love to take part in them.

Gary then eyeballs Kellensea.

You all know her? What's with all that armor? She hiding something under there? She too afraid to show herself because she doesn't think she looks good, even with make-up?
I like bananas. They're yellow.
"Pretty sure you'd die if you did my training. And no. She wears it because she's a paranoid asshole who loots people's corpses and throws a whole fit about how she doesn't want to die yet thinks it fair when she tries to murder us. She spent most of our game either hiding in her office or poisoning stuff."
You know what they say. All toasters toast toast.
She drove ME insane, too.
I don't understand any of this... I'm in a world of complete insanity...
That's their judgement of me, correct. In practice, it's closer to "why the fuck doesn't everyone wear all these layers of armor it's like you're inviting an assassin to jump from the shade and shoot you". Which, I know this place is "murder-free" but again, not "assault-free". And again, not cowardice that I didn't attack you directly. It's because I believed in you. I believed in you enough that you would find evidence of my presence at a scene, so I chose to stay away from the scene... though my next plan was poison free, incidentally. I figured I had built up a reputation as the "poison lass" and thus you would be like "no way would Kellensea bludgeon someone to death, she's the poison lass". Well... until I got that idea right before we were released. I would have tried that first.

As Ranma speaks, her vocal tone shifts to a more erratic one which fluctuates wildly in pitch.

FUCKING VELS RANMA, Of course I don't want to die, and of course you don't want to die! That's one of the things people generally DO! I just don't care about your feelings on the matter, and the game was about KILLING PEOPLE, so of course I was going to KILL you!
I am the They who says it!
"Yeah yeah, missed you too Kel. Don't you have a body to loot, or a doorknob to poison?" Ranma wasn't in the mood to listen to another one of Kellensea's longwinded tangents.
You know what they say. All toasters toast toast.
I mean, not here. Murder-free, remember? And I'm not trained in roguery, so I don't loot alive people very well.
I am the They who says it!
Don't underestimate me. Not only did I survive on that damn island, I also survived a motorcycle crash when I didn't wear a helmet.

And after listening in on Kellensea's rant.

She sounds paranoid as hell, too. And who wouldn't be? Is the CIA here? Is this why we're in these murdergames? Is this all a government conspiracy? I'm sorry you all had to share that place with this crazy old bitch.
I like bananas. They're yellow.
Vivi walks over to Kellensea. "Hello there. Kellensea, is it? I'm Vivi Elakha." She summons a cloud of pink smoke around her right hand. "And I run this place. Whether I want to or not. There will be social order. Understood?"
nya
Alexis looks at Kellensea. "You leave me alone, I leave you alone. Deal?"

She really didn't want to put up with long-ass egotistical speeches about adventuring.
Stupid doomed timeline...
Ranma just rolled his eyes and looked back at Busey. "Trust me, you really do not want to do my training, I've been doing it since I was like two. You will probably die."
You know what they say. All toasters toast toast.
Dookie rolls down the stairs.

“Hello, new people!”
why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food
Kellensea turns to Vivi.

Yeah, you can SAY that, but I forwent the social contract by becoming an adventurer. You can't force me to re-sign now. I will not allow it! A powerful spellcaster you may be, I don't doubt it. Okay maybe a little. But the point is... social order is too loosely defined to be helpful. I don't know what you want from me when you ask for it, I need an explanation of what you want, and if it involves complying with the standard social contract, I'd like to opt out. I'm not going to arbitrarily break peoples limbs, only if they touch my stuff. Or get really annoying. Or continuously insult me.

Kellensea shrugs.

Look, I don't know what you can do with your control, but frankly, pretty much no matter what, I'm going to be me. I'm not changing who I am to suit your presumably weird norms. So you should either accept me or... yeah, that's pretty much your only option. Because as much as I'd like to get out of here, get back home, etcetera, it's been made clear that there's no way out. So you could abuse me, torture me, whatever. It's REALLY not going to work out for you if you do that, and I'm not capable of stopping being an adventurer, any more than you can stop having those cat ears.

Suddenly, distracted by Alexis...

Uh, yeah, place is murder-free. Just don't bother me ever or touch my stuff, and I won't make your life a living hell.
I am the They who says it!
"I'm going to ignore your presence entirely, if that's all right with you. As long as you don't touch my stuff either."

The insane adventurer lady was probably easier to ignore in a large hotel where nobody could kill one another, at least she hoped so.
Stupid doomed timeline...
Vivi blinked. "Define my terms, is that all? I can do that."

...

...

"... I might need some time to work that out in complete detail. For starters, let's say no violence, or threats of violence, towards other guests, except as a proportionate defense against threatening or aggressive behavior on their part. And no thievery." She looks around at the others. "These rules apply to everyone, by the way. I doubt anyone is going to steal your stuff, Kellensea," she says, turning back to the other adventurer, "but if we're going to formally define social order, we might as well put it on the list, right?"
nya
But without the credible threat of violence, how can I enforce my security? By forgoing the social contract, I became more like an semi-autonomous nation, and thus, I need credible threat of violence because I'm not under the social contract, I'm not forgoing any of my self-granted privileges to to the state in exchange for security, so I need credible threat of violence. I don't think proportionality is necessarily valid either, are we talking eye-for-an-eye proportionality? Or are we talking a more vague proportionality determined by the parties involved, or are we talking "I'll know it when I see it" proportionality? Because if it's the last of those, I don't know if I can trust all of you to have good judgement of what is proportional. That system would oppress my definition of proportionality. I will keep thievery to a minimum, of course, I'll only strip public property, I don't take stuff from people who aren't dead or soon-to-be-dead in the plane where I'm looting the stuff from normally. Well, aside from every time I went to a rich person's house. They couldn't stop me.

Kellensea tilts her head slightly.

Though, at least, unlike the others, you seem open to actually define what the fuck you're talking about. Not like this respect for the dead bullshit or this "my specific kind of life is just better than other life okay" bullshit.
I am the They who says it!
Meanwhile, Alexis wanders into the kitchen to finally get herself some kind of nice big nutritious meal. Some kind of protein, some sauteed vegetables, maybe some rice or something, the works.
Stupid doomed timeline...
Gary begins snacking on some of his peanuts from the crate.

Dig in if you all want some.
I like bananas. They're yellow.
Vivi frowns. "Hmm, that's a good point... I know I prefer to act on the assumption that everyone involved is well-intentioned, but what happens when someone comes in who isn't?" She seems lost in thought. "This is harder than I thought. Maybe... threats of violence are permitted... but you can't go beyond what you spelled out? Like, if you say 'don't touch my things or I'll break your joints', you can't break people's joints for looking at your things, or break their neck for touching them." She frowns. "But that kinda encourages disproportionate threats... then again, would that be a bad thing? If they don't cross your boundaries, why should we be bothered by what you're using to set them?

"Though as for my definition of 'proportionate', yes, I mean eye-for-an-eye. I admit I don't like fully equal retaliation, but social order only breaks down when people try going past that point. I think. I guess I've never tested that."

She groans, sounding exasperated. "Althyk save me, when did I become the leader of this little culture? When did this hotel become a culture for me to lead?"
nya
Those terms are acceptable. Though I do have an issue with retributive justice of an Eye-for-an-eye variety, but really, that issue works out in my favor in most cases of which I can think, so I won't contest it. I accept the terms of your... not really a social contract, I ditched that. Though in a way, this and that are both ToS agreements. So... Like, a more artificial social contract.

Kellensea makes a gesture with her hands, presumably meant to signify agreement.

Anyway, you're the leader of the society because you have power. Whether you seized that power or came by it by other means, you lead because you have the power. Naturally, I'd expect a coup to start fomenting every minute, but you people don't seem to have much initiative in power-seeking, so never mind that. Look, theoretically, your terms are fine, and I'll abide by them to the best of my ability to, and expect others to do the same.
I am the They who says it!
Ranma, ignoring whatever argument Kellensea is having with the boss lady, looked at the peanuts a bit cautiously. ". . . I'm. . . good, thanks."
You know what they say. All toasters toast toast.
Vivi looks at the cloud of pink smoke she's gathered around her hand. "A coup... well, you're right that most people around here don't seem interested in that, but... even if they were, I'm not sure it'd be physically possible for them to take this from me."
nya


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