1.9 — VOTING OPEN
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Kari felt wrong to be clean. To see their skin under their fingernails. To have soft, flowing hair instead of a tangled mess of knots. The condemned had no business trying to wash hands of their past, yet here Kari was, transfixed by the dirtless space between their toes.

Tarquin, that pest of a man, kept trying to obligate Kari into some kind of alliance. At least he smelled like cologne now instead of corpses.

"You must have some proposals you want to put forward, no?" he asked.

DEATH TO ALL, whispered the Djinn.

Kari clutched their head, trying to shut the thoughts out. The wanton violence of this place made it difficult to suppress them.

"Goodness, are you quite alright?" said Tarquin, reaching out his hand—

BEGONE.

And Kari blacked out for a second. When they came to, they saw Tarquin had stepped well back, clutching his hand behind his back where red bite marks had set in.

"Huh?" Connie was quick to rush over, Faust in tow.

"Sounded like a hyena," said Faust. "You okay?"

"Of course." Tarquin grimaced while he turned to hide the dripping wound. "Kari seems enthusiastic about our proposals, now isn't that wonderful?"

Where before Connie had sounded like her lungs were drowning in ash, her voice now resembled honey.

She said, "I just wish I could say the same, man. I don't trust Eirlys to not cross us."

Faust shrugged. "What is democracy except poor compromises and broken promises?"

"Co-operation," said Tarquin. "Hope!"

They laughed.

A procession of footsteps announced the return of Haralda and her troops, who were hunched over in a way intensely familiar to Kari. Make yourself small. Stay out the way, and you won't get slugged.

STAND TALL, said the Djinn. REPEL THEM.

"To your podiums," instructed Haralda, her back straight as a lightning rod.

While they got into position, she asked, "Have you finalised the agenda, Tarquin?"

Tarquin picked up a clipboard from his podium and handed it to her. "The meeting will cover four proposals, shall we say? Proposed by Eirlys, Saheel, Haralda, and Connie."

"Good," said Haralda. "I expect everybody to follow the agreed methodology. Time-outs will be administered to those who fail to stick to the topic."

— MOTION ONE

Eirlys glanced at the others, fiddling with something in the pouch of her hoodie. She promptly found herself blushing.

She said, "I propose that in future motions, we implement a majority rule. We've already seen what happens when a rogue agent has the power to stop everything — we wasted almost 10,000 words on a diversion, as well as losing Greer. I will not let that happen again."

"Thank you," everybody chorused.

FOOL, whispered the Djinn, and Kari grinned. The way she talked as if she could stop any of this. Herding together wouldn't change anything, and Kari couldn't wait to see the look on her face when everything fell apart.

Haralda nodded. "Would those against the motion please exchange your arguments and nominate a speaker?"

Connie, Faust, and Beck grouped up near the 70,000 door and whispered furiously at each other. Faust ended up having to hold them at arm's length before it came to blows. After the most intense game of rock-paper-scissors in history, wherein rock was thrown dangerously close to faces, Beck came out on top.

"Suck it, you fucking losers," he jeered, rolling up his sleeves. "Alright, first, as the audience representative, I'd like to correct something. We didn't waste those words, we spent them resolving conflicts and developing character — exactly what those bloodthirsty fuckers behind the screen wanted to see. If you think more than one of us is walking out here alive,  then you need to get your head out the clouds and stop being such a fucking space cadet."

"That is not the subject of discussion here," barked Haralda. "Do you have a specific objection to the motion or not?"

"Uh, yeah, because I'm not a dumbass?" he said. "Eirlys' plan is gonna be something like: 'Beck is a douchebag, why don't we just turn him into a blind, deaf, mute paraplegic and make him have the IQ of a vegetable. Not like he can say no, and the audience will kill him next!'"

"Hear, hear," said Faust. "Except me instead of Beck."

Beck slapped him on the back. "That's right, buddy. Once they do me off, they'll pick and choose somebody else. I can't allow that, because the people who are meant to choose who dies and lives — that's the audience! Booyah!"

"Thank you," chorused everyone, though much more quietly.

Haralda clapped just once, pushing the air through her hands with all the quietude of a sonic boom.

She said, "Can anyone in support of the motion overcome this objection? What is to stop us from turning this tool into a weapon?"

Eirlys raised her hand, and, when given permission, said, "That's not a good enough objection. That's paranoia. The fact that they have the power to reject an obviously good motion proves that we need it."

"You're just preaching to the choir!" shouted Connie. "You know you're supposed to be convincing us, right?"

"You're inconvincible," declared Eirlys, folding her arms. "You're acting in bad faith."

Haralda slammed her fist onto her podium, causing a shockwave of biblical proportions.

"Order," she ordered. "Although speaking out of turn, Connie was right. If you resort to ad-hominem once more then I will see this motion thrown out."

"Alright," said Saheel, raising his hand. "What if we were to allow individuals to opt-out of motions that are passed? In Beck's example, we could pass an inhumane motion as a majority, but he would be able to reject the parts that affect him. It would put pressure on us as policy-makers to only pass motions that benefit everybody."

"Hear, hear," said Tarquin. "It would still mean bad actors couldn't stop us from passing motions to help people who need it, wouldn't it?"

"Alright," said Connie.

"Sure," shrugged Faust.

"...Fine," spat Beck.

8 Y — MOTION PASSED

— MOTION TWO

Saheel leaned on the podium naturally, projecting his voice with practised authority.

"Mine is a timely proposal, considering how few words we are from losing another one of us. I ask simply that we abolish the wordcount altogether. It should be clear enough why that would benefit all of us."

"Thank you," an enthusiastic room repeated.

Haralda nodded. "Although we are now under majority rule, I would still like to give the opportunity for anyone against this motion to speak out."

The word count was close enough, now. Kari climbed on top of their podium, even as Beck raced over to the 70,000 door alone. They couldn't keep the Djinn down any longer.

DISGUSTING, they said. IT IS TIME TO EXPLAIN WHY YOU ARE CONDEMNED.

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