[When the court room empties out the shaking in the chandelier lessens and lessens until it finally stills. With the lights downthe atmosphere could almost be mistaken for peaceful if not for the thick smells of blood and smoke in the air. Seconds trickle by in deafening silence until it starts.
The slow, deliberate click of heels on the wooden stage. Ten steps, ten long strides until the sound stops and there's another sound, a click of snapping fingers . Almost immediately a spotlight shines on center stage to illuminate the Balladeer's prone body and the showrunner herself standing beside him. She looks from him to the mess that the bullet made of his head and heaves a heavy, exasperated sigh.]
Good luck cleaning up this mess, Bialy.
[She gives the corpse a small, firm kick in the side, a scowl twisting her immaculately made-up face, before lifting her hand and snapping her fingers a second time. This time she crouches next to the body, at eye-level if he were sitting up.]
Post-trial 5 shitshow
The slow, deliberate click of heels on the wooden stage. Ten steps, ten long strides until the sound stops and there's another sound, a click of snapping fingers . Almost immediately a spotlight shines on center stage to illuminate the Balladeer's prone body and the showrunner herself standing beside him. She looks from him to the mess that the bullet made of his head and heaves a heavy, exasperated sigh.]
Good luck cleaning up this mess, Bialy.
[She gives the corpse a small, firm kick in the side, a scowl twisting her immaculately made-up face, before lifting her hand and snapping her fingers a second time. This time she crouches next to the body, at eye-level if he were sitting up.]
Now, let's talk about what you did wrong.