Some of the kids wanted me to get a new jigsaw puzzle for them, but they said they wanted one of you. I didn't know it at the time until they said you were an idol, which kind of made me really against it. I had to bargain with them to get them to agree to forego that and now I'm on the hook to get "the biggest cutest cats, with jeweled sparkle collars and fancy outfits" puzzle I can find.
...But if it's not dangerous for you and can fit into your schedule, you should come with me to visit them. I think they'd like to meet you as some of your youngest fans and do some puzzles with you. Not to mention, maybe it's good exposure for kids to learn that their favorite celebrities are normal people, too. It might even hopefully help them learn to notice the signs of when having a parasocial relationship is dangerous and help them stop that behavior before it becomes a bad thing.
✅ * finished or could be considered finished. may or may not continue if tagged back depending on the response. ✔️ * cupcake eaten, last tag is not able to be considered a natural finish. will continue if you picked up. ✨ * new CR
[ nods, listening intently and taking mental notes. Also wondering why there are umbrellas for cupcakes those should be in umbrella boat drinks... Which sounds delicious right now, yikes.
Okay! So Graeysteel, Brocade, Lithium, and Ore.... They're like the four musketeers or something, totally got. ]
You all grow up together or something like it? Lithium and Brocade are engaged, I know. You think they're gonna wanna get married on this boat or that they'll definitely wait? [ this also makes sense with what Lithium was saying about cumin and Graey. They're part of a group of besties!
Also not surprising Ore and Graey are close because they're the two people the made the best first impression on Sam in terms of making him feel comfortable around them and that they were just nice people with nice intentions. This is a big deal for someone like Sam so he is definitely taking notes.
(Actually the first 3 nicest people he's met have been Forge, probably not a coincidence. ) ]
Also, what kinda wedding gift would I get them? Even if they have it after we get out of here, I feel I need to at least try and send a gift.
[ How much info can Sam wrangle out of Graey before he catches on, let's find out. ]
Knew Ore before, but never really got close ta Lith an' Brocade 'till I came back to the city. Ain't heard much 'bout their plans though, reckon I should ask sometime but don't want 'em feelin' rushed in any sense.
Wedding gift, huh? Ya sure are thinkin' ahead. Probably depends on if they decide ta move in with each other or not after this.
[ It's the best day of his life on this boat? or, well, this day is about to get worse later and most of his cupcake scenarios have been disasters, but this one has been very pleasant for him! Top 3 would do again.
he did not expect her to be able to bite so hard, cupcake influence or not. Sam's jaws tightens as he hisses a little at the pain as his heartbeat spikes, but he absolutely enjoys pain like he shouldn't as is. So her biting that hard gets him to stop talking and be good, but definitely not because he's intimidated or dislikes it. That is most easily seen by how he continues to run his fingers through her hair. His hold on her doesn't loosen (but he will immediately allow her and and all freedom to shift and move as she pleases.) his breathing comes in a few small barely-there gasps of air mostly from the surprise of being bitten.
also definitely trying to remind himself this must be cupcakes (WTF is up with these cupcakes?) even so, he's still enjoying it immensely, regardless, thanks. He likes attention especially from cute girls, he's just Like This. Even moreso when they know how to take charge. ]
[ she pulls back to admire her handiwork, the indents of her teeth already red and raised on his skin. The hand in his hair loosens and she brings her thumb to her mouth, biting at the pad until she breaks skin and shoves it in his mouth.
While he might be familiar with the taste of blood, the feel is completely foreign, prickling like needles and shards of glass in his throat. The sensation intensifies at the bite, and even after the swelling and bruising fade into pristine skin, the stabbing pains linger and will remain for a few hours.
After the wound is healed, she rises to her feet, and ruffles his hair like he was a big, fluffy dog. ]
[ Sam smiles coyly, crooking a gloved finger towards Cash to invite him closer before leaning in himself to flick his tongue out against the other's lips. ]
The Spiral Serpent of is a mesmerizing constellation that captures the essence of the deep ocean's mystery and allure. This constellation consists of 28 stars arranged in a spiral pattern, resembling the coiling body of a mythical sea serpent. Each star represents a pivotal point in the serpent's body, creating a dynamic and flowing shape that appears to move through the night sky.
{ Story }
Legend has it that the Spiral Serpent was once a guardian of the ocean's treasures, tasked with protecting the secrets of the deep. Sailors and fishermen would often tell tales of seeing the serpent rise from the waves, its body spiraling gracefully as it swam through the water. It was believed that those who caught a glimpse of the serpent's celestial form would be blessed with safe passage and bountiful catches.
It serves as a reminder of the ocean's power and the mysteries that lie beneath its surface. Its spiral shape symbolizes the endless cycles of the tides and the eternal dance of the sea's inhabitants.
Duration: 7 Rounds Board Completed?: No Crown? No Other Accessories:Hairpins (x 2, charm); Perfume ( x2, fox ears + Blessing malfunction), Ring ("Codependency - Satin")
[ Sam will peek up at Snow, his brow creasing in slight concern but he will shake his head a little at the question. He's not even sure what Snow is referring to, but it's easier to just shake his head a little than anything else. ]
A younger version of Sam, somewhere between 17-19. Sam is a Cirrus Network Repo, a type of agent that is specially dispatched to retrieved compromised information and/or clean up those within Cirrus that have done specified illegal crimes deemed a "danger to those in society" through Cirrus's predictions.
Coincidentally, Sam is tasked with fishing out the right-hand man of the leader of sex trafficking ring that Sam and his family have been after for a while. Alright Sam isn't the head of his family yet, he takes full responsibility in spearheading this operation takedown by using a "black widow" assassination approach. he targets those that lure and round up victims for the ring and takes them out. it's become unhealthy though as the memory watcher will sense themselves without it needing to be explicitly expressed, beyond the general degrading nature of it. Sam has started to see it as much as his only choice to feel anything with anyone, and he's been called enough derogatory and derisive things before, during, and after these sessions that along with the acts has affected his already warped sense of self-worth even though there is someone who's trying to help him.
Things become difficult for Sam when he's compromised only to realize that he's been betrayed (in different ways) both by his employer and by someone he thought he meant something to.
CWs { NSFW, sex trafficking. implications of kidnapping, potential underage drinking, illegal use of drugs, violence & abuse, self-loathing, objectification, dubcon/noncon, sexual assault. }
You're here because you want to be, you remind yourself. No one made you come, but you're feeling the pressure and consequences of playing the game and luring them in. At times like these, you have to work extra hard to not drop the act, to not let your anger and disgust get the better of you. these types of people are the worst because they prey on the helpless.
And they're preying on you all the same.
— but, unlike all those other victims, you're far from helpless, and they're really not preying on you at all when you have each one of them tightly strung about your fingers, are they? You just have to play the part for now, just like you play parts every waking second of your life. They're all just for show, of course, or a means to an end, because the rest is empty.
You smile, laugh, flirt, concede, tempt even as with each second that passes, internally, you want out of here more and more. And then you're being invited to the back of the club, to the private lounges and are given an offer to have 'a good time' with them.
You go, and you steel yourself for it (what you'll see, what you'll hear, what you'll do.)
It's a debauched scene of alcohol and sex, and your eyes scan the individuals involved as the pleasers (like you) compared with the ones in the expensive suits. You're looking for hints of duress, of pain, of fear, of no choice— anything you can use to take this place down a couple notches and make the monsters running this ring pay where it hurts them the most. Before you can do that, though you have to play along a little more, get your hands dirty, let them think you're the one they can play with and not the other way around.
It needs to be convincing enough that, when you're with them intimately, you have them so obvious and unaware of your intentions that, when blood spills from you sitting their throat during climax, the only expression there is still pure ectascy.
It's the third individual tonight, and you're left feeling exhausted, hollow and numb. You don't particularly care about taking these lives, but the scummy feeling that cakes on your skin invisibly never goes away.
( But it doesn't matter: the best tools are well-used and dirty because they get the job done best.
And you— used goods beyond any hope of being valued as anything even semi-worthwhile and absolutely filthy— get this job done better than anyone. )
You sink back against the door to the room in the dark, needing a moment to rein in your thoughts from spiraling. You briefly wonder if you're helping anyone in the long run, if anyone is really being saved, or if you've just made yourself a whore with a cheaper-than-free price tag in some disallusioned campaign for justice that's faker than your own smiles.
You know it doesn't matter, either. You've come too far to just come this far. The only choice you have is to keep going. There's no one to turn to, no one to save you from what you've agreed to accomplish. Besides, at least you're useful to someone in the moment, even if that someone is the person you're tempting and luring to their death for their crimes.
Your father could have figured out how to take this operation down if he were still alive without degrading himself. Duran could have done this so much better that even if he had to use tactics like this; he would have managed to take out the heart of the ring already and watch it die from the inside.
You're just you, though. Who are you, anyway?
Who are you?
A derisive chuckle escapes your throat at your mind's own momentary lapse into naivety.
You're nobody and you're nothing— other than what people in the moment demand you to be.
Your blood runs cold, your heart clenches so hard in your chest it's more painful than the blow to the head that knocked you unconscious and got you into this mess. You don't understand: this wasn't in the information, this wasn't part of the objective, this person shouldn't have anything to do with this—
"I should have known when they said it was a whore with some of the bluest eyes they had ever seen," he says with a layer of ice coating it smoother than silk. "Pity. Should have just kept your head down, Sam. We could have been good together."
"You..." you choke trying to say their name, your jaw aching as you clench your teeth, trying to swallow the overwhelming feeling of anger and a pain you can't quite describe feeling (you think you did once, though, with Vira, but the memory of that day was taken from you along with all the others of your life, so you can't be sure.) You did so much for this person, you opened your dead heart to this person thinking maybe something could come of it because they came from the same world as you, didn't care that you had no memory or recollection of being who you are supposed to be. This is the son of a another prominent Mafia don, afterall, and he had shared your desire for less exploitation of innocents in the underground for monetary gain. (Supposedly, anyway.) So why ... why is he here in this place sitting with you being forced to kneel at his feet? What kind of fucked up situation is this? How did you not know when you work for fucking Cirrus and they provided you the files on this case? This wasn't even your own botched thing. You aren't acting on your own right now, you're simply acting as an agent for the Organization— and yet...
How has this become so disgustingly personal?
"Why did you come here, Sam?" he asks softly, almost tenderly as if it pains him to be in this situation. You stiffen and refuse to answer, causing him to use his foot to lift your head a bit higher until it's uncomfortable and he can catch your gaze with his own. "Don't look at me like that. You're being unfair using that face of yours against me. I didn't ask for this to happen."
You don't believe him. You will never believe him or anyone else again. You will never ever trust anyone again for as long as you live. If you couldn't trust this person, then there's no one in this world that is safe to trust, especially not with what you are.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he continues, one long gloved finger tapping slowly and idly against his jaw as he watches you. "I can have them untie you, we can go to my room and... talk this out like we have so many things before."
How could you be so stupid? How could you fuck up like this? How could you ever think this might have been someone you could find something with in this empty void of a world?
"...Or, we can do this the hard way. And I guarantee you will not feel good after I'm done with you if we do it the hard way."
Seconds of silence stretch to infinity between you both, your heart pounding like thunder as much as like a bell's death toll.
"...Last chance, Sami," he exhales, using the nickname affectionately (it only makes your skin crawl now when you once felt a warmth in your chest,) still controlled and gentle as he uses his foot to tilt your head one way or another uncomfortably— as if he twists you the right way you'll start functioning properly to his liking.
"...Sam."
"Go fuck yourself, Ren," you growl venomously before you can even stop yourself, your voice raw and laced with pain with a hurt you've never even heard from yourself.
Ren's expression darkens before he sighs, as if exasperated by a child's tantrum. "What am I going to do you with you and that mouth of yours?" He uses his foot to push painfully into the soft skin under your jaw before moving it and kicking you across the face. "The hard way, then."
And as he gets up from his chair, as his men hold you down, as you spit blood from your mouth, you know you'll block this from your memory because it'll be too much to deal with. You'll compartmentalize it so well, block it out so it never can cross your mind even by accident— but you'll remember the only thing that clearly needs to be remembered:
You can't trust anyone (ever again.)
They'll leave you. They'll betray you. Or they'll do both.
( You choke back a scream, not willing to give the other the satisfaction. Ren's voice brushes against your ear, hot as he whispers, "Don't hate me for what's your fault." )
They always have. They always are. They always will.
( Of course it's your fault. It's always your fault. These people leaving you, betraying you, making you vow to never give anyone the smallest chance to hurt you again is and always will be your fault. )
[ ooc note: spoilers for Genshin Impact 4.0, Fontaine.
this world is inky and black, with the incessant singular sound of an echoing drip, drip... drop that plummets down like falling thunder.
A ripple lights up beneath your feet like its water before it rushes out in a burst of blinding light sprayed all around to reveal anoperahouse. There is a situation playing out inside:
the scene will repeat as it ends, and although Jewel can freely wander through the courtroom/stage area, no one in the courtroom seems to notice him or react. Once the recording repeats at least once in some fashion, a shadowy figure will be found stalking around the outer perimeter as the words from one of the audience in the trial echo:
...Have you ever heard of an innocent Fatui Harbinger? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jewel.
Two weeks? Wow. I was expecting at least months, impressive.
This might sound off topic, but do you have anything against visiting orphanages?
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...But if it's not dangerous for you and can fit into your schedule, you should come with me to visit them. I think they'd like to meet you as some of your youngest fans and do some puzzles with you. Not to mention, maybe it's good exposure for kids to learn that their favorite celebrities are normal people, too. It might even hopefully help them learn to notice the signs of when having a parasocial relationship is dangerous and help them stop that behavior before it becomes a bad thing.
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D.11-D.20 ‧ MINGLE { cupcakes.
MINGLE CR
✔️ * cupcake eaten, last tag is not able to be considered a natural finish. will continue if you picked up.
✨ * new CR
TL no overflow:
✅ Sparrow
✔️ Hex
✅ Friday
✔️ Cashmere
✅ Heron
tag-ins no overflow.
CHIFFON: from here.
✨✅ FLAMINGO: from here.
✔️ JEWEL: from here.
✨✅ RAVEN: from here.
✨✔️ GINGHAM: from here.
URIEL: from here.
✨✅ ROSE GOLD: from here.
✅ MORAY: from here.
✅ BROCADE (+ SPARROW): from here
FORTE.
Not a bad idea, actually. Gives you unlimited privacy to your music as well as being as loud as you want when you want.
By the way— [ motioning for Forte to lean in like be has a secret. ]
Re: FORTE.
What's up?
[Something private?]
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NICK.
[ nods, listening intently and taking mental notes. Also wondering why there are umbrellas for cupcakes those should be in umbrella boat drinks... Which sounds delicious right now, yikes.
Okay! So Graeysteel, Brocade, Lithium, and Ore.... They're like the four musketeers or something, totally got. ]
You all grow up together or something like it? Lithium and Brocade are engaged, I know. You think they're gonna wanna get married on this boat or that they'll definitely wait? [ this also makes sense with what Lithium was saying about cumin and Graey. They're part of a group of besties!
Also not surprising Ore and Graey are close because they're the two people the made the best first impression on Sam in terms of making him feel comfortable around them and that they were just nice people with nice intentions. This is a big deal for someone like Sam so he is definitely taking notes.
(Actually the first 3 nicest people he's met have been Forge, probably not a coincidence. ) ]
Also, what kinda wedding gift would I get them? Even if they have it after we get out of here, I feel I need to at least try and send a gift.
Re: NICK.
Knew Ore before, but never really got close ta Lith an' Brocade 'till I came back to the city. Ain't heard much 'bout their plans though, reckon I should ask sometime but don't want 'em feelin' rushed in any sense.
Wedding gift, huh? Ya sure are thinkin' ahead. Probably depends on if they decide ta move in with each other or not after this.
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JEM.
[ It's the best day of his life on this boat? or, well, this day is about to get worse later and most of his cupcake scenarios have been disasters, but this one has been very pleasant for him! Top 3 would do again.
he did not expect her to be able to bite so hard, cupcake influence or not. Sam's jaws tightens as he hisses a little at the pain as his heartbeat spikes, but he absolutely enjoys pain like he shouldn't as is. So her biting that hard gets him to stop talking and be good, but definitely not because he's intimidated or dislikes it. That is most easily seen by how he continues to run his fingers through her hair. His hold on her doesn't loosen (but he will immediately allow her and and all freedom to shift and move as she pleases.) his breathing comes in a few small barely-there gasps of air mostly from the surprise of being bitten.
also definitely trying to remind himself this must be cupcakes (WTF is up with these cupcakes?) even so, he's still enjoying it immensely, regardless, thanks. He likes attention especially from cute girls, he's just Like This. Even moreso when they know how to take charge. ]
Re: JEM.
While he might be familiar with the taste of blood, the feel is completely foreign, prickling like needles and shards of glass in his throat. The sensation intensifies at the bite, and even after the swelling and bruising fade into pristine skin, the stabbing pains linger and will remain for a few hours.
After the wound is healed, she rises to her feet, and ruffles his hair like he was a big, fluffy dog. ]
JUN.
[ there's a grumble of appreciation from him as he grabs the damp towel and slides it under his face between it and the table. ]
My cupcakes are so much better...
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BOOKER.
[ gllllaannnccciiiinnnnnng over in the same direction as Booker before tilting his head. ]
Any reason you're always so down on yourself?
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1/?
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Done
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BROCADE.
I'm really distressed that I am using premade cupcakes, to be honest... I'd rather bake them myself.
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CASHMERE.
[ Sam smiles coyly, crooking a gloved finger towards Cash to invite him closer before leaning in himself to flick his tongue out against the other's lips. ]
Re: CASHMERE.
D.44 misc • JEWEL
1st Constellation - Jewel
The Spiral Serpent
{ Story }
D.47 Pretty Pretty Princess
D.49 Snow
[ Sam will peek up at Snow, his brow creasing in slight concern but he will shake his head a little at the question. He's not even sure what Snow is referring to, but it's easier to just shake his head a little than anything else. ]
Re: D.49 Snow
Was your throat damaged...?
[Coming closer, looking at him with increasing concern.]
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D.25? (shore leave) { Night of Reminisce: Jewel
Smiles a bit at that before leaning forward to take a bite. ]
It's pretty good.
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memory. (cws below)
You're here because you want to be, you remind yourself. No one made you come, but you're feeling the pressure and consequences of playing the game and luring them in. At times like these, you have to work extra hard to not drop the act, to not let your anger and disgust get the better of you. these types of people are the worst because they prey on the helpless.
And they're preying on you all the same.
— but, unlike all those other victims, you're far from helpless, and they're really not preying on you at all when you have each one of them tightly strung about your fingers, are they? You just have to play the part for now, just like you play parts every waking second of your life. They're all just for show, of course, or a means to an end, because the rest is empty.
You smile, laugh, flirt, concede, tempt even as with each second that passes, internally, you want out of here more and more. And then you're being invited to the back of the club, to the private lounges and are given an offer to have 'a good time' with them.
You go, and you steel yourself for it (what you'll see, what you'll hear, what you'll do.)
It's a debauched scene of alcohol and sex, and your eyes scan the individuals involved as the pleasers (like you) compared with the ones in the expensive suits. You're looking for hints of duress, of pain, of fear, of no choice— anything you can use to take this place down a couple notches and make the monsters running this ring pay where it hurts them the most. Before you can do that, though you have to play along a little more, get your hands dirty, let them think you're the one they can play with and not the other way around.
It needs to be convincing enough that, when you're with them intimately, you have them so obvious and unaware of your intentions that, when blood spills from you sitting their throat during climax, the only expression there is still pure ectascy.
It's the third individual tonight, and you're left feeling exhausted, hollow and numb. You don't particularly care about taking these lives, but the scummy feeling that cakes on your skin invisibly never goes away.
( But it doesn't matter: the best tools are well-used and dirty because they get the job done best.
And you— used goods beyond any hope of being valued as anything even semi-worthwhile and absolutely filthy— get this job done better than anyone. )
You sink back against the door to the room in the dark, needing a moment to rein in your thoughts from spiraling. You briefly wonder if you're helping anyone in the long run, if anyone is really being saved, or if you've just made yourself a whore with a cheaper-than-free price tag in some disallusioned campaign for justice that's faker than your own smiles.
You know it doesn't matter, either. You've come too far to just come this far. The only choice you have is to keep going. There's no one to turn to, no one to save you from what you've agreed to accomplish. Besides, at least you're useful to someone in the moment, even if that someone is the person you're tempting and luring to their death for their crimes.
Your father could have figured out how to take this operation down if he were still alive without degrading himself. Duran could have done this so much better that even if he had to use tactics like this; he would have managed to take out the heart of the ring already and watch it die from the inside.
You're just you, though. Who are you, anyway?
Who are you?
A derisive chuckle escapes your throat at your mind's own momentary lapse into naivety.
You're nobody and you're nothing— other than what people in the moment demand you to be.
Your blood runs cold, your heart clenches so hard in your chest it's more painful than the blow to the head that knocked you unconscious and got you into this mess. You don't understand: this wasn't in the information, this wasn't part of the objective, this person shouldn't have anything to do with this—
"I should have known when they said it was a whore with some of the bluest eyes they had ever seen," he says with a layer of ice coating it smoother than silk. "Pity. Should have just kept your head down, Sam. We could have been good together."
"You..." you choke trying to say their name, your jaw aching as you clench your teeth, trying to swallow the overwhelming feeling of anger and a pain you can't quite describe feeling (you think you did once, though, with Vira, but the memory of that day was taken from you along with all the others of your life, so you can't be sure.) You did so much for this person, you opened your dead heart to this person thinking maybe something could come of it because they came from the same world as you, didn't care that you had no memory or recollection of being who you are supposed to be. This is the son of a another prominent Mafia don, afterall, and he had shared your desire for less exploitation of innocents in the underground for monetary gain. (Supposedly, anyway.) So why ... why is he here in this place sitting with you being forced to kneel at his feet? What kind of fucked up situation is this? How did you not know when you work for fucking Cirrus and they provided you the files on this case? This wasn't even your own botched thing. You aren't acting on your own right now, you're simply acting as an agent for the Organization— and yet...
How has this become so disgustingly personal?
"Why did you come here, Sam?" he asks softly, almost tenderly as if it pains him to be in this situation. You stiffen and refuse to answer, causing him to use his foot to lift your head a bit higher until it's uncomfortable and he can catch your gaze with his own. "Don't look at me like that. You're being unfair using that face of yours against me. I didn't ask for this to happen."
You don't believe him. You will never believe him or anyone else again. You will never ever trust anyone again for as long as you live. If you couldn't trust this person, then there's no one in this world that is safe to trust, especially not with what you are.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he continues, one long gloved finger tapping slowly and idly against his jaw as he watches you. "I can have them untie you, we can go to my room and... talk this out like we have so many things before."
How could you be so stupid? How could you fuck up like this? How could you ever think this might have been someone you could find something with in this empty void of a world?
"...Or, we can do this the hard way. And I guarantee you will not feel good after I'm done with you if we do it the hard way."
Seconds of silence stretch to infinity between you both, your heart pounding like thunder as much as like a bell's death toll.
"...Last chance, Sami," he exhales, using the nickname affectionately (it only makes your skin crawl now when you once felt a warmth in your chest,) still controlled and gentle as he uses his foot to tilt your head one way or another uncomfortably— as if he twists you the right way you'll start functioning properly to his liking.
"...Sam."
"Go fuck yourself, Ren," you growl venomously before you can even stop yourself, your voice raw and laced with pain with a hurt you've never even heard from yourself.
Ren's expression darkens before he sighs, as if exasperated by a child's tantrum. "What am I going to do you with you and that mouth of yours?" He uses his foot to push painfully into the soft skin under your jaw before moving it and kicking you across the face. "The hard way, then."
And as he gets up from his chair, as his men hold you down, as you spit blood from your mouth, you know you'll block this from your memory because it'll be too much to deal with. You'll compartmentalize it so well, block it out so it never can cross your mind even by accident— but you'll remember the only thing that clearly needs to be remembered:
You can't trust anyone (ever again.)
They'll leave you.
They'll betray you.
Or they'll do both.
( You choke back a scream, not willing to give the other the satisfaction. Ren's voice brushes against your ear, hot as he whispers, "Don't hate me for what's your fault." )
They always have.
They always are.
They always will.
( Of course it's your fault. It's always your fault. These people leaving you, betraying you, making you vow to never give anyone the smallest chance to hurt you again is and always will be your fault. )
D.25 (shoreleave) DREAM POST
Rules
Sam's TOP-LEVEL
Jewel
this world is inky and black, with the incessant singular sound of an echoing drip, drip... drop that plummets down like falling thunder.
A ripple lights up beneath your feet like its water before it rushes out in a burst of blinding light sprayed all around to reveal an opera house. There is a situation playing out inside:
whole scene that plays out. (earliest Jewel can come into the trial.)
the summary -> the end
Verdict -> the end
Verdict #2 -> the end
Just the end cutscene
the scene will repeat as it ends, and although Jewel can freely wander through the courtroom/stage area, no one in the courtroom seems to notice him or react. Once the recording repeats at least once in some fashion, a shadowy figure will be found stalking around the outer perimeter as the words from one of the audience in the trial echo:
...Have you ever heard of an innocent Fatui Harbinger? ]
Oh...? When did you sneak in?