“Cherish, you’ll go second. Your last chance to impress us.”
I wonder how many of these turns we’ll get per Arc, if the idea doesn’t fall apart. Two, maybe? That would keep us busy for four more Arcs, though, which might be too much.
Cherish nodded, as mute as her headless teammate.
“Good. Two days, Mannequin, then three for our Cherish. To be fair, we should have a rule that says you cannot take out a candidate until they fail your test.
That seems reasonable, since there’s a rule that encourages taking out candidates.
So each prospective member must be informed about the test and what it requires, they must fail, and they must be eliminated or punished, until one remains. For those of you who want to show how superior they are over their teammates…” he cast a sidelong glance at Shatterbird, “There are several paths to success. Remove several candidates, conduct a full round of testing, see that your candidate succeeds above any of the others, or all of the above.”
Of course Shatterbird would care about that.
“I like it,” Bonesaw said, “It sounds fun! But what about Siberian? How is she supposed to tell them the rules?”
Oh yeah. She’s not fond of speaking, and as far as the Slaughterhouse Nine probably know, she can’t.
The same goes for Mannequin, but he at least can write. I would not be particularly surprised if Siberian can’t, or refuses to.
“We’ll help her out on that front. Same test as usual, Siberian?”
I guess someone else could just write it down for her.
Siberian nodded. She reached out to Bonesaw’s face and used her thumb to wipe away a spatter of blood before licking the digit clean.
Same procedure as every year, James.
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