Bread, and all variations of the aforementioned

Media puts a hand up to start his declamation. "… Alright, so—"

The Curator interrupts him, a dark shadow over her face. "Such populaces you've fooled with your demeanour, Media," she begins, her voice mildly distorted. "Your priorities are maladious and you permit the molder of your World in exchange for a morsel of Living liaisons… one after another—nay, your oversights overlap. This gall you have… to gallivant from our kind's necessitated of nihils. Also you're ugly."

Media pauses, his expression softening into one of timid hurt. "… Well, that isn't a very polite thing to—"

Before Media can finish his sentence, one of the Gallery's empty frames descends in front of him. Media and Two stare at it in confusion. "Uh… What's all this for."

"Bloody hell!" Media screams out as a spear launches from out of the frame, going through his hat. Two can only respond with wide-eyed shock.

The spear lands behind them, piercing the ground. A pink Wire is wrapped around it, and it flashes and glitches intermittently. Media and Two look back at it, clearly shaken up.

Media looks back at Curator, all pretenses of politeness gone. "Real responsible, Curator! Use my own Hands against me! Do you have any idea how many worlds had to die before I learned how to make these?!"

Curator stares him down, arms crossed over their chest and legs placed on the podium in a display of casual denigration. "Responsible! Big word from the one who puts forth his own hedonism before the Council's Sense of Ethics! I'd brook your brazen behaviour on a sunny day but times are dire with me under lock & key so you need to, in the simplest of terms, get your shit together!"

Two addresses Media. "… Anyway, I'm going on paid leave starting tomorrow."

Media protests, "You're supposed to write a permission letter two days in advance!"

"I'm not asking for permission. I'm just letting you know."

"Whatever… Let's get this over with."

The scene shows a glimpse of the three parties: Charlotte and One nervously facing off against the painting monsters, Media and Two preparing for a potential fight with Curator, and Jacques holding Speep defencively while Three manifests their chainsaw.

Reception is revving up for the battle when—

Ring ring ring!

An alarm plops above Two's head. The sound reverberates across the Gallery. "Yooo!" One and Three excitedly greet each other as they use the sound to find one another, jumping through the painting frames to reunite in Two's location.

One of the temp-bods looks through the frame One goes through, saying "Oh good, I'm back together. I'll be taking my leave now, then!" Charlotte follows soon afterwards, a confused "What is… going on…" escaping her.

"Reception…?" Jacques follows through the frame Three went through, carrying Speep with them. Media lights up when he notices Jacques, exclaiming "My Judge!" as he excitedly hops on his tippy-toes.

Reception embraces themselves, exchanging baps on their cheeks. "I've never been so happy to see the worst parts of myself," Two says.

"Get hit by a train, Two," Three responds with a smile.

Media, too, wraps a less-than-reciprocal Jacques in his arms, the Judge's bored expression only slightly betrayed by a barely noticeable blush as he pets Speep, refusing to hug Media back. With a bap, Media asks "Did you miss me?"

"For about five seconds, yes," Jacques answers.

"Four seconds longer than usual!"

Reception lets go of themselves, casually pleased to be reunited. "Well. My shift is over!"

They manifest different summer outfits for themselves as they make their way to leave. "See y'all in two weeks, bitches!" Three shouts behind them. Media is too distracted hugging Jacques to pay attention, while Charlotte only watches on in confusion. In the background, a tendril pulls the spear—the Hand—out of the ground.

Jacques says, "Reception's leaving," then repeatedly bonks Media on the head with his mallet when Media does nothing about it. "You will simply permit them to leave, just like that?"

Media ignores Jacques's attempt to push him away. "No choice! The Receptions are unionised." One waves goodbye from a painting frame, while Three only gives a thumbs up.

"They're one person!" Jacques retorts. "That is not a union!" Speep hops off, unwilling to get caught in between their shenanigans.

Media places a hand under Jacques's beak in an intimate gesture. "We can have our own union—"

Jacques interrupts him, tensing up in irritation. "So! About the Curator?"

"Oh, she threw a timey-wimey spear at me," Media answers as Jacques pulls Media's hand away and bonks him on the head one more time. Speep climbs up Jacques's tail and starts biting Media's forearm.

"Augh… I wish I had died at 16 like a normal Bird."

Media keeps talking, paying no heed to the Curator seething from her podium. "Well, technically, "normal" Birds don't die either because everybody is more-or-less im..."

"Blah blah, I get it, your technology is genius and your brain is huge, can you lift your own bench later..."

"Is this a joke," Curator says, more an observation than a question, as she watches the two get distracted with their inane conversation.

Charlotte concurs, dumbfounded. Is this it? We're leaving the governance of the Living to these guys? she thinks to herself. And we still can't beat them... Heaven's more incompetent than I thought...

Curator stares in quiet rage upon noticing Jacques.

"Jacques Emfoi."

Curator's right eye is shown. Instead of being permanently shut as it is for most Marginals, it appears to be a clock.

Media continues yapping around Jacques. "... It'll be very fun and there will be a lot of hypothetical cheering and you get to gloat about it all day."

Jacques slouches, exasperated. "... And here I thought my job was to 'sit in the lobby and look cute.'"

"Oh bollocks!" Media shouts in surprise when a giant hand suddenly apprehends the Judge.

The Curator pulls Jacques up toward her level. "Your 'relationship' with the Media is distressing."

"Tell me about it," Jacques agrees. "He doesn't even remember to lock the doors in the morning."

"I remembered today!" Media interjects pathetically.

The Curator continues litigating Jacques. "Do you know why you are the High Judge?"

"I know."

"Do you know the consequences that come with disrupting the acquiesced nature of how a Living being and a Marginal are interned to interact?"

"I know."

"Do you know the intransience of your Universe must rely on your intransigence on our Laws?"

"I know."

"Do you know, if it were not for your interference, you would not have passed the standards for life? Do you know how shaky your Soul is? How little your ideas contribute to the cosmos? Do you know your mere existence exhausts the Wires of the World? Do you know the Media only permits you to persist out of his own self-serving sympatheticness?"

Jacques stares blankly after listening to her rant, before apathetically responding, "That sounds like something my mother would have said."

"You must commit to your covenant and terminate whatever this is you're doing."

"But we are not really doing anything. That's kind of the point."

Curators eyes narrow. "Hmmf."

She shoves Jacques towards one of her picture frames. Large tentacles come out from it and apprehend Jacques. "Objects! Hold on to this dullard!"

"Oh, merde," Jacques scowls. "Congratulations! This is somehow worse than last year's anniversary!"

"I'll make it up to you!" Media responds with a frantic nervousness.

"You say that every year!"

The tentacles take away Jacques's mallet (and his bonnet), and Jacques can only pout in response. The Curator turns to face the Media, now holding a spear-a Hand of Time-with a Wire the Curator wound around it.

"Cripes," Media says.

Jacques's mallet fidgets around, trying to escape. Jacques un-fidgets around, not trying to escape. Augh... What an anticlimactic end to my career he thinks to himself.

I didn't even get the chance to abuse my power and have a bunch of innocents guillotined. Final words... regrets... Won't get to move on and forgive my parents. Won't get to find out how 'The Magnet Archives' ends. Won't get to visit Bon for their birthday.

The Curator jumps off her podium and chases after Media with the spear. Jacques stays immersed in his final words and regrets.

Won't get to have dinner with Media.

God, I hate Tuesdays.

Media screams at Curator as he tries to dodge her. "Curator, I'm so sorry! Sorry you're such an utter twat!"

"You really think I'm some kind of pillock who'd just throw myself into situations without any regard For the consequences?"

Jacques seems apathetic to the screaming around him, still stuck on his train of thought. When he announces my death on the radio, surely there shall be much hypothetical cheering...

Jacques closes his eyes, motionless like a doll, contemplating. Media continues his argument with Curator, although Curator's responses are unheard.

"You know, if some happening were meant to happen then in the span of two decades, you'd figure it would have begun its happening-ing by now, hmm?

"What? Whatever it is that's interfering with the radio has nothing to do with the Judges.

"Well, I don't know what it is, either! Some technical problem? I'm quite certain all five of the Courts have been apt at making sure the Judges don't consume any Outsider media so whatever the issue is, it's coming from something else.

"I am perfectly capable of reading the High Judge whatever he wants me to without that thing finding out."

Jacques opens his eyes, bored of his daydreaming. "Well, I'm over it. Death is an interesting scenario to imagine, but I believe that it's time we move on."

Media and Curator's argument continues, becoming fainter in the distance. "Yes! I am aware! Of the danger that comes! With the Living! Knowing! Too! Much! I'm not an idiot, Curator!" Everything is under control, you're just paranoid because you can't be outside to see it. we do our Weekly Broadcasts, we make the citizens remember the Codes as per the Responsibilities, and things are in excellent order without any sign of the Living going into exis... What do you mean you've 'remembered' something new? There's nothing new left to remember, if there was then I would have remembered it by now myself!"

Jacques lifts his tail up, revealing that Speep had still been attached to him all along. "I don't suppose you could be of some use, hein?"

Charlotte watches this entire mess from the distance, stuck with ruminations of her own. They're arguing about the radio... I know the Judges' media consumption is limited because the Council's Sense of Ethics restricts their hobbies, but I've always wondered if there's another reason...

Should I help...? Help who, though...? I don't know which of these two are in the wrong...

They're probably both wrong? The Marginals always have been questionable. Oh no, there I go judging them for their jobs again Stay in your lane, Charlotte! "Marginals can do what they want with the Living, Angels get their turn with the Dead."

She turns towards the ceiling, watching Jacques still apprehended by the Object from the picture frames. Should I help him? She contemplates for a moment before turning away with a frown, distracting herself with her notepad. Nah, he's demonophobic. Better of taking down notes of whatever these two are fighting about.

(Actually still mad at how Project Maldevaran ruined Angelkind's rep)

Speep scuttles up the tentacle holding Jacques in place. "You can do it, abstract paint creature!" Jacques cheers, somewhat apathetically. "Or maybe you can't. Who am I to decide."

Speep bites the tentacle holding up Jacques's mallet, freeing it, and it morphs into a large knife, slashing the Judge free from the monster's grasp. The Marginals don't notice him escape, still distracted with their argument.

The Curator thrusts the Hand near Media's face, and he panics. "Look, I can explain!"

Curator relents. "Okay then. Explain."

Media smiles awkwardly.

"I can't explain. I just think he's cute."

The Curator slams the Media into the floor face-first, the force splitting the ground apart.

Meanwhile, Jacques's mallet shifts into an umbrella, Jacques grabbing on to it floating down slowly in a soft landing. He holds Speep with his other hand, praising the creature with a simple "Excellent."

"Now then," Jacques says, landing gently on the floor and putting his bonnet back on. "Time to look cute."

The Curator steps on Media's chest, pinning him to the floor. They point the Hand right at their face once more. "The Sense of Ethics is rudimentary. No personal names, no personal interests, and no personal relationships."

Media laughs nervously. "I mean, two out of three isn't bad—"

The Curator stabs the floor right next to Media's cheek, Media gulping in fear.

The Curator stares him down, her body glitching apart. "You let your stupid boyfriend convince you that anyone could be Alive and now you decide to attempt it for yourself. You are not one of the Living. What do you not understand of this?"

Media smiles softly. "Oh wow, you don't get it at all, do you? The High Judge isn't my 'boyfriend.'"

His smile turns more condesccending.

"And he isn't stupid."

Stab

[ Annotation initiated. ]

A different Hand is stabbed through the Curator, straight through their right eye. She looks back to find Jacques, grabbing hold of the device and pulling it out. Speep's eye widens at the sight of its Marginal getting attacked.

[ Specify configuration. ]

Jacques looks apathetic throughout the whole ordeal, his right eye conspicuously shut. "The same as last month's."

"Golly gee, this sure was an adventure!" Media gloats as he gets up, standing next to Jacques and wrapping his arm around his waist. "I didn't want to have to waste one of the Hands on something as trivial as your monthly maintenance, but oh well, c'est la vie."

[ Initiating tethering process. Attempt #: 1]

Media's grin widens, raising two fingers up in a backwards V-sign "Pull another stunt like this and I'll just leave you to suffer in that pathetic excuse of a body you're stuck with."

Curator's body glitches and dissolves away, unable to speak, only glaring at the two. Speep desperately scuttles towards her, unable to do anything but watch as she tumbles down and vanishes.

Media and Jacques step over her body as she disappear. "Well, regardless of how unwelcome you always treat us, it's always a pleasure to visit,

"Mary."

Reference sheet: Curator

Appearance: The Curator appears as a feminine humanoid resembling an abstract painting. Their skin is split into two colours, pink on the left side (viewer's left) and green on the other. Their entire appearance has paint-like textures of screentones and brush strokes.

Their straight waist-length hair flares out at the ends, and is similarly split with the left being black outlined in green and the right teal outline in pink. She has teal eyelashes with two prominent long ones, like the hands of a clock. Their left eye is green and their right eye looks like a melting clock. Their limbs can stretch and "drip" like other Marginals.

Their main outfit is a short form-fitting sailor dress with long sleeves. The dress is indigo with two white stripes on the hem and sleeves, and the collar is a white, square oversized collar designed with two teal stripes on the hem and an embroidered pink smiley-face. She wears a pink pearl necklace. Her left sock covers her entire leg while the right one only reaches up to her knees, both striped black and white. Her left shoe is teal and her right shoe is black, both of them looking like rectangular blocks.

Her illustration is labelled the following:

• Keep your Mind's Eye open (pointing at her clock eye)
• Somehow looks both 2D and 3D... 2.5D? (pointing at her hair)
• Black eyelids (accompanied by a drawing of her with one eye closed, her black eyelids making her look eyeless)
• Inconsistent appearance, just looks like whatever (accompanied by a drawing of her facing different angles, her appearance shifting slightly)
• Outlines are thicker than inner lines (pointing at outlines)
• Patterns look flat and pasted on (pointing at socks)
• Mix of curves and straight lines (pointing at legs)
• Can break anatomy (pointing at stretched out arm)

• Species: Marginal
• Status: Questionable
• Gender: Abstract (she/they)
• Age: Old (physical age indeterminate)
• Occupation: Curator, Artists, Rememberer of Things

Once active in official Living-Marginal affairs, Curator has since been trapped within the confines of an old Gallery. Why she's stuck there and how to get her out remains a mystery.

Her previous position in the government mean she harbours many secrets of its inner workings, including the less... nice parts, and because of this protecting her from outside harm stays a major priority of the Court of the Living and the Council of the Marginals.

Living with herself by herself for herself as herself for extended periods has brought her both a clarity of memory and a confusion of reality. She has no idea what is going on anymore.

A danger, quality unknown, is posed to those that interact with her, so she is kept secluded from the Living. Such a torrid existence I currently lead but t— of the end is a privilege both undeserv— unachievable. In hope of the existenc— —orrow, I'll continue to remember, anyth— —an be of

• Cassandra Lee Morris - Angie Yonaga (Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony)
• Sofy Aldeguer (Bita & The Botflies) - Peklat Cream

[xyz]Pimver: Kunebon

There's already a record of the name we gave this somewhere, but it's currently inaccessible. For the time being, this will be given the placeholder label [xyz]

[xyz] is an Inhabitant-type Object. Resembling a cross between a *rabbit and a *peacock, a typical [xyz] is 40 to 60 cm tall and weighs 12 to 15 kilograms.

Their vacant eyes, soft coat and endearing motions gives the impression of a harmless creature, but [xyz] are easily spooked and will attack at the first sign of danger. [xyz] are obligate carnivores and have the sharp teeth to show for it.

[xyz] are protective of their young and it is common for [xyz] to stay with their brood lifelong. Outside of their own offspring/parents, [xyz] do not seek out other [xyz] outside of their breeding period during the temperate seasons of the year.

---

Droso (plr. Drosoes)Pimver: Bengungot

Drosoes are an Inhabitant-type Object. A popular mascot-type creature due to their resemblance to *bears (or, more specifically, toy bears as compared to real bears). A typical droso is 60 to 70 cm tall and weighs 20 to 25 kilograms.

Their cute appearances and calm personality has made them a popular choice for zoos in the past, but drosoes do not do well in captivity and are known to Die within a few months, the longest surviving droso living only two yearsA female droso dubbed Kokomo at the [to be verified] Zoo, (dated - ???), died of infection.

As drosoes do not fare well outside their natural Habitats, it is common to instead remodel areas surrounding urban municipalities to attract droso populations. Popularity aside, their presence is desirable for a variety of reasons such as pest control, weather prediction and, based on local legends, their ability to convey visions through dreams.

---

Echo Shroom (plr. Echo Shrooms)Pimver: Intrimi'e

Echo Shrooms are Environment-type Objects. As their names suggest, these are *mushrooms that echo noises in their environment. They may have particular use-cases in archival research.

These *mushrooms are typically 10-12 centrimetres tall with a wide cap about with a matching circumference. They glow an iridescent pink, and their echos can be heard when the *mushrooms release their spores, either naturally or upon agitation.

They are a common food item among Inhabitants, and are safe to eat raw or cooked. The most popular form of preparing them is through breading them and deep-frying to a crispy texture. The taste resembles squid.

---

Flamango (plr. Flamangoes)Pimver: Ti'rabay

Flamangoes are an Inhabitant-type Object. It's a *flamingo that smells like *mangoes. A longer description is likely warranted, but nobody has had yet the fortitude to approach more closely. It seems invulnerable to most things, or it might as well be, since it's a flamingo, or it might as well be, since it looks like one.

---

Kat (plr. Kats)Pimver: Pusakar

Kats are an Inhabitant-type Object. It's basically a *cat, but with more eyes.

They are affectionate but value their personal space. These characteristics make them suitable pets, and research into their potential positive effects on the mental health of Court Inhabitants may be worth pursuing. Granted, this would require a permit to possess the creatures, and I'd have to argue for it, which I don't really feel like doing.

---

Ketoeras (plr. Ketoeras)Pimver: Ketoeras

Ketoeras are an Inhabitant-type Object. Resembling a small *raptor, these large lizard-like creatures are often around 90 to 100 cm tall and weigh 25 to 40 kilograms. Standing upright on two feet, their primary mode of motion is through walking, but they also have large wings that allow them to glide from high places (but, due to their weight, they are unable to fly).

Ketoeras are one of the most intelligent Objects in the World, capable of Living-like cognition such as the usage of tools, interest in non-predatory motivated aesthetic behaviours, and seemingly an ability to learn speech comprehension (but nothing to evidence ability for speech production, although this may be more a physiological limitation than a cognitive one).

Ketoeras are dangerous Objects that take amusement in maiming and killing other Objects, and should be avoided by civilians and immediatelly culled by any authorised party.

---

Speep (plr. Speep)Pimver: Ispip, Gampa

Speep are an Inhabitant-type Object. Resembling a cross between a *bug/*spider and a *sheep, a typical speep is 30 to 43 centimetres tall and is lightweight at only 5 to 7 kilograms.

A speep's legs can extend to about four to five feet. Its most notable characteristics are a singular large eye and large pincers.

Speep are generally a docile creature and make good pets. They are loyal and have a tendency to bite strangers or other threatening figures. While the size of their pincers may make the bite painful, they have not been observed to carry venom or transferable diseases, making most attacks non-fatal.

Speep reproduce through unknown means, being able to multiply without the need for procreation. Infant speep look similar to their adult counterparts, aside from the size, being small enough to fit on the palm of one's hand. Speep are social creatures and typically live in colonies.

---

Tive (plr. Tives)Pimver: Tib

Tives are an Environment-type Object. These majestic *trees tower over much of the local wildlife, reaching up to 35 metres tall. They are characterised by a wide canopy of up to 20 metres and bright white and yellow flowers, making them suitable decorative trees for shade and aesthetic.

A tive has a typical diametre of one metre and its timbre is often used for furniture-making due to its durability and pleasant purplish-mahogany colour.