[It's the dents in the pipe that point to her, in the end. No one quite believes at first that it's a handprint, but once everyone gets on that train of thought- well, even if it's not common knowledge what exactly the "human-passing" in her profile means, everyone's seen how strong Penny is in one capacity or another. From there, the damage to her hands -at first ignored due to the lack of blood, the tiny, obviously mostly-healed nicks and scratches- lead to focused questioning. Which lead to the numbing, gut-dropping realization that she didn't remember finishing her patrols the previous evening.]
Please, don't- just vote for me! You have to!
[The people that believed her- in any other circumstances it would have been a blessing, that so many did- tried arguing that she wasn't at fault, that this wasn't even an accident, that by the rules of the game it was the Warden who was responsible, that they'd reduced Penny to just a weapon. Maybe they were right, ethically and in any sane court of law. But here? Well, the Warden could add and interpret rules as they saw fit.]
I can't let anyone else die because of me!
[Penny had voted for herself, with only an instant of hesitation. Doing otherwise meant a mass execution, she was sure. She couldn't let that happen. She'd raced against the others, slamming the button marked with her title on as many podiums as she could- how many had she gotten to before she'd been stopped? Grabbed, pulled into a hug by Mr. Burnsides, Champion of Raven's Roost... she could've broken away easily, but. Not without hurting him.]
[And if Penny was being honest with herself, she didn't want to die.]
[She felt like a coward.]
I'm- ...when you get out of here. Please. Ruby, my father- don't tell them what I did. Please.
[The execution didn't hurt. It couldn't, after all. You had to be real to feel pain.]
[And then her eyes snap back open. Penny sits up, abruptly. She registers gray, dust-laiden carpeting. An un-manned, mahogany desk covers most of one wall. Dim chandeliers overhead. And a tarnished brass sign-frame, holding a plain white sign with black lettering in Times New Roman Font.]
Hopeless Peak Hotel Now Hosting Ex-Con Con The Convention for Ex-convicts Enjoy being in attendance.
What?
[She was alive? Or functioning- she felt as alive as she ever had, at least. But the only way she could possibly be alive was if the others hadn't listened, hadn't voted for her. If they had died in her place.]
No, no no no- NO-!
[Penny doesn't get up. She pulls her knees up to her chest, burying her face into her arms, and wishes she could cry.]
cw: me paying for my deeds while looking at the camera and asking who could hurt me so and why
Please, don't- just vote for me! You have to!
[The people that believed her- in any other circumstances it would have been a blessing, that so many did- tried arguing that she wasn't at fault, that this wasn't even an accident, that by the rules of the game it was the Warden who was responsible, that they'd reduced Penny to just a weapon. Maybe they were right, ethically and in any sane court of law. But here? Well, the Warden could add and interpret rules as they saw fit.]
I can't let anyone else die because of me!
[Penny had voted for herself, with only an instant of hesitation. Doing otherwise meant a mass execution, she was sure. She couldn't let that happen. She'd raced against the others, slamming the button marked with her title on as many podiums as she could- how many had she gotten to before she'd been stopped? Grabbed, pulled into a hug by Mr. Burnsides, Champion of Raven's Roost... she could've broken away easily, but. Not without hurting him.]
[And if Penny was being honest with herself, she didn't want to die.]
[She felt like a coward.]
I'm- ...when you get out of here. Please. Ruby, my father- don't tell them what I did. Please.
[The execution didn't hurt. It couldn't, after all. You had to be real to feel pain.]
[And then her eyes snap back open. Penny sits up, abruptly. She registers gray, dust-laiden carpeting. An un-manned, mahogany desk covers most of one wall. Dim chandeliers overhead. And a tarnished brass sign-frame, holding a plain white sign with black lettering in Times New Roman Font.]
Hopeless Peak Hotel
Now Hosting
Ex-Con Con
The Convention for Ex-convicts
Enjoy being in attendance.
What?
[She was alive? Or functioning- she felt as alive as she ever had, at least. But the only way she could possibly be alive was if the others hadn't listened, hadn't voted for her. If they had died in her place.]
No, no no no- NO-!
[Penny doesn't get up. She pulls her knees up to her chest, burying her face into her arms, and wishes she could cry.]