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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 6, 2021 23:36:18 GMT -5
WelcomeTo The Room To End All Rooms(A Paradox House Oneshot)
Contestants: Zuko (rped by Stri) Sal (rped by Hawk) Noah (rped by Stri) Ronan (rped by Hawk) Nico (rped by Stri) Juuzou (rped by Hawk) Newt (rped by Stri) Varian (rped by Hawk) Wylan (rped by Stri) Spook (rped by Hawk) Hunter (rped by Stri) Kenma (rped by Hawk) Hinata (rped by Stri)
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 0:15:35 GMT -5
Juuzou blinked in, skipping with his hands behind his back, black hair blowing behind him as if in a wind. He hummed to himself, looking at the sky as the clouds moved...and then there were no clouds at all. He looked down, startled into stopping, and stared. It was a room. A living room, old but not old by his standards. It was in incredibly good condition actually. He began to spin slowly, taking everything in at once, his arms still crossed behind his back.
Sal appeared a moment later, sitting still, hands held out in front of him as though he’d been holding a book. He blinked as it vanished and looked up, his mouth falling open at what he saw. He stood up slowly, looking around, his eyes wide. In most worlds, he might have had his prosthetic, but not in this one...his scars were fully visible, and his right eye was missing. He backed away, crossing his arms over his chest. Best not to be visible, probably. Until he figured out where the hell he was.
Ronan appeared, yet another moment later. He was pacing, fists clenched at his side, but he stopped moving the moment the ground changed from dead leaves to carpet. He turned around, looking behind him as though he thought he met find a door he had unintentionally walked through...no such luck. He took a breath, letting it out in a fierce huff. “The hell...?” He muttered, not much caring if he was heard. Let them hear him. He tensed a little more as he spotted Juuzou, his eyes narrowing. It was one thing to capture Ronan Lynch. It was another thing entirely to capture a member of Ronan Lynch’s family.
Varian blinked in, holding a pencil in one hand and a notebook in the other, writing as if his life depended on his word count. He didn’t notice his blink right away, despite the fact that he’d been sitting on a rock before and was now sitting on a couch. When the change did make it to the front of his brain, he looked up, uncurling from his uncomfortably curled up position. “Woah…” he said, sitting up and abandoning his notebook to the side. He stood up, staring around the room in open awe. “I thought no one was working on teleportation anymore…” he whispered finally, excitement beginning to slip into his tone. “Hello? Whoever just kidnapped us...can I please talk to you? I’m a huge fan of your work. I think. As of a minute ago.”
Spook blinked in, and his eyes immediately flew wide, his whole body tensing. He had been walking next to Wylan...he froze in place, looking around the room wildly, searching for threats and explanations alike. He wasn’t alone here. There were others...his family. Some of them were here too. It didn’t soothe the terror spiking inside him, but it did mean that if they had to fight, it wouldn’t be alone. He didn’t speak, just watched as they appeared out of nowhere, not drawing his knife just yet. He was glad he’d decided to carry it with him everywhere, though he hadn’t expected...this.
Kenma blinked in, sitting as though off to one side. He didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular, but when he appeared he looked up, eyes widening a little at the sight of…a living room? No windows, either, so he couldn’t see what was outside it. it actually looked like it was in fairly good condition, too. At least, the walls were in one piece, and there were books and the chairs looked decently okay. And he wasn’t actually alone, either. More people were appearing, just as he had. He waited, half expecting everyone from the group to end up in the room, though it really wasn’t technically big enough for that.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 0:34:14 GMT -5
Nico appeared, his arms crossed over his chest as he stood, eyes narrowed and expression set, searching for… a room? Almost immediately Nico’s sword was drawn and he scanned the area for any sign of what had just happened. A trap? A hallucination? Was it possible that Kelsier was right, that they’d never escaped Hades? Only… this wasn’t anything like Hades’. It was too run down, for one, not nearly as sterile and frightening as where he and Kelsier had been kept. And he wasn’t alone. Nico’s sword fell to his side again as he noticed Juuzou and Ronan. Good. Good, at least whatever had happened, they could all face it together. Unless Varian got them into trouble by directly addressing whoever had taken them...
Newt was walking, animatedly gesturing with his hands as he spoke to someone who was no longer there. “-asking if you met anyone like that when you… Sweets?” Alarm flashed through his expression and he took a few nervous steps backwards, blinking at how dim the lights had gotten. Had someone turned out the sun? No, they were indoors now. It seemed that whatever had taken them had… taken most of the people Newt would have given anything to protect. But not Sweets, which was odd, as he would have killed to protect him, too. He shrugged – he supposed that was different, especially since he didn’t see Kelsier there either. So it was just them… the original group. He frowned a little bit, then took a step towards Varian. "We should... probably be careful about talking to whoever brought us here. We don't know what they want."
Zuko almost kicked Juuzou in the head. He didn’t mean to, but he’d been practicing, and then the grass was gone and there was just ugly green carpet and he was just barely able to redirect the force of the blow to a couple inches higher, hopefully missing Juuzou entirely. “Where’d you come from?” he demanded, arms crossing over his chest. It wasn’t malicious, just… uncertain.
Noah appeared not moments later, his eyes locked onto a cloud that had somehow managed to become a very ugly popcorn ceiling. He sat up almost immediately, searching for some sort of explanation. If he could have turn and run the other direction, he would have… but he couldn’t. Instead he forced himself to his feet, dusting himself off and bridging the gap between himself and Ronan, blue eyes desperately searching for some sort of explanation or way out. Hopefully he was just being stupid and Ronan would know exactly what had happened.
"-know L said that explosives at the border are a bad idea, but - woah, where are we?" Wylan frowned, looking around as though that would be enough to give him answers. It seemed, however, that there weren't any answers. Just that his family - all of them, it seemed - were here, and he didn't know where here was. He took a deep breath, eyes narrowing just a little bit. He didn't have any weapons on him, except a couple of the supplies he'd need for a bomb. That would take time, though...
Crutchie appeared a few moments later, bent over something with his leg splayed out in front of him. It didn't look comfortable, but he couldn't feel it, so he didn't think he cared much. He looked up, about to hand the vial he was holding over to Sherlock, but very quickly found himself confused. Had Sherlock given him another poison and not told him? Annoyance flickered across his features. It had been about a year since he had last done that... frankly, he'd thought he was going to stop.
Hinata appeared as well, midair as an excited yell escaped him. “-we were like ‘kabOOM’ and they… huh?” Hinata’s feet touched the ground and he looked up, eyes wide in surprise as his surroundings changed. Rue wasn’t there anymore, and the little village of tents they’d set up over the past few weeks had turned into a relatively small room. It had been a while since Hinata had actually been in a building. They weren’t the safest places – tents were much better in the case of a zombie attack. You couldn’t be crept up on. Hinata may have been fast enough to escape, but if the entrance to a building was blocked… he shook the thought off, looking around. It was everyone else… huh. A dream, maybe? “Hey Kenma!” Hinata called, immediately moving towards his first friend in the group. They were all family, but they all had people they gravitated to.
Hunter blinked in, gaze cast downwards as he wrote something in the dirt. Or rather, the carpet. Carpet? His eyes widened and he stood up, stumbling back a few steps in shock. How had that happened? He had grown up believing that there might be magic, but the only magic that existed had brought the dead back to life. It couldn’t teleport people. His eyes narrowed and he reached to pull out his staff. It may not have done anything magic like he had hoped it would when he was little, but it was effective for hitting people. At least he wasn’t alone, though he thought he might’ve preferred that. He wasn’t a fan of everyone he cared about in danger. It felt like a great way for them all to get hurt.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 0:51:26 GMT -5
Juuzou blinked as the blow went over his head, missing him by less than an inch. He didn’t move, though...his reflexes were incredible, but unneeded. Zuko was a friend and obviously wasn’t going to hurt him. He considered the question, unbothered by Zuko’s tone. “That depends…” he answered after a moment. “Where did you come from? Because you weren’t there a moment ago and neither was I. I was going for a walk and then I was here.”
Sal hesitated, starting as more people appeared out of nowhere. And not just anyone. These were all the people he loved most in the world, the people he’d pledged to protect with his life, even if he hadn’t said it out loud. His family. He slowly stepped back out of the shadows, joining them in the room, his hand on the knife he carried. He didn’t like the thought that they were in danger, but they probably were. He found himself next to Nico, and he glanced at the other boy, his remaining eye wide. “You don’t know how we got here or anything, do you?” He asked quietly,
Ronan met Noah’s frightened gaze, and his own eyes narrowed. They were all here...oh, not everyone in the group. Not that he wanted Sherlock there. Or Kelsier the Unhinged. But the original group...they were all there. And Noah was searching his eyes as though hoping to find the answer in their shark like depths. No answers to be found, though. He swore internally, hands in his pockets as he looked away. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have a clue what this was.
Varian turned as Newt approached him. “Oh. Right, sorry,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just…teleportation is one of the things I’ve been trying to figure out my whole life. This is a big moment for me. But no, you’re right, we just got kidnapped, we don’t know what they want, and that’s...not good.” He made an effort to clamp down on his excitement. Barring that...he did his best not to be overly exuberant about his excitement. Maybe just a few whispered “wow”s here and there as he looked around the room they’d appeared in.
Spook jumped and glanced over as the familiar voice of Wylan joined him, still saying the same thing he had been before. Well...at least they were all here, wherever that was. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t going to panic, not yet...maybe they could break out. Maybe they could escape before whoever had done this could come back...that was possible, right? “I don’t know,” he admitted softly, narrowing his eyes at the room as he joined Wylan again.
More people appeared. So far, it only seemed to be the close knit group of boys that had formed something of a family within the group, but whether that would stay that way or not… He’d need to wait until people stopped appearing to find that out. They had all been doing things when they’d appeared, it seemed. Kenma didn’t move, just watched. Maybe… “Oh, Shoyo,” he replied as the other boy approached, glancing up at him. “You’re here, too.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 1:07:43 GMT -5
Zuko took a step back, eyes narrowed as he looked around. Well… whoever had taken them had done something extraordinarily stupid by taking them all at once. Zuko would have fought like hell to get himself free and back to his family, but… he would fight even harder if it meant protecting them. And if all of them were here, that probably meant they were in danger. “I was just outside of our temporary camp,” he told Juuzou, casting a quick look around. “I was practicing. Hence the uh…” he awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m glad I didn’t hit you.”
Nico glanced up at the feeling of someone approaching, only relaxing once he realized it was Sal. So… they were all here, now. Something in every cell of Nico’s body was telling him to run, telling him that sticking around to see what they had ended up here for wasn’t worth it. Get out quick. That was the best – no, the only – course of action. His gaze drifted down, catching on the way Sal was holding the knife. Good. At least if anything happened they’d be prepared. And whoever had brought them here hadn’t even disarmed them. It was pitiful. “No,” he replied softly, shaking his head. “No idea. I was… I was keeping guard for my dad, and now we’re all… here.” Yep, that sounded a lot like a hallucination.
Noah wasn’t used to Ronan not knowing things. Not that he thought Ronan was a genius, just that… he usually had some sort of solution, even if it was just to punch something and make everything worse. But there was nothing to punch here. Almost without thinking, Noah slid his hand into Ronan’s relying almost entirely on the strength this best friend could lend him. Wherever they were… they would be okay, as long as they were together.
“There’s a door,” Newt pointed out, watching the others more or less buddy up. He supposed he had gravitated more towards Varian, if only to make sure the younger boy was okay. It was nice that they were all together, but… less ideal knowing he had absolutely no idea where they were. "Maybe the door will give us some clues as to how we got here," he added, hoping that would appease Varian for now. If they wanted to get out… he grit his teeth, walking a few feet forward and placing a hand on the doorknob. “I guess… we should probably try the obvious first, right?” the nervousness was evident in his tone, but there wasn’t really another way. And he would rather take the risk than let anyone else do it.
Wylan hid a smile as he overheard some of what Varian was saying to Newt. They were friends for a reason. Varian may have been a little bit more idealistic as Wylan, but they shared the same enthusiasm about science. Even not knowing where they were... Wylan couldn't help but be at least a little bit curious. He shook the thought off, turning a bit so he could see Spook a little better. "If none of us know where we are, then it's probably a good thing we're all together," he supplied hopefully, a tiny smile touching his lips.
Crutchie levered himself up into a standing position, gaze sweeping over his friends. His brothers. He hadn't thought he'd be able to find that again when he'd been forced away from the group he had joined just after the apocalypse had hit, but he had gotten lucky. Hopefully, he wouldn't be met with bad luck again any time soon. He frowned a little bit as his gaze met the others. Why had he been chosen to be a part of this group? He hadn't been with them when their group had merged with Crutchie's. Sometimes he felt like he didn't belong with them as much as they belonged with each other. But... whatever had brought them all here must have disagreed.
Hinata gave a solemn nod, tilting his head as he looked around. “I think all of us are,” he noted, waiting a few moments to see if anyone else appeared. Hunter was there a moment later, and after a few seconds passed, Hinata seemed to decide that nobody else was coming. “No adults!” he announced, a grin flashing across his face. “As long as there are no zombies, we can do whatever we want! Maybe we can… do a race or a game or something again! We could do that one where I was on Spook’s shoulders and Nico was on Ronan’s and we were fighting! You could probably get on Newt’s, I bet he’s strong enough to carry you!”
Hunter looked around, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This didn’t make sense. The room was already filling up with quiet conversation, then building to something louder. It always did when they were all together. They split up into groups and began talking, and then they had to speak louder to be heard… he edged a little bit closer to Nico and Sal, doing his best to remain alert in case there was anything amiss. Nothing… seemed to be. Somehow, that made him more nervous. At least both Nico and Sal seemed as uncertain as Hunter felt.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 1:27:13 GMT -5
Juuzou nodded a little, taking that information in. Well...if they were in danger, there was no one he’d rather be in danger with. Surrounded by his family, most of whom was armed? He wasn’t concerned. Whoever had taken them had messed with the wrong group. Unless no one had taken them. Which was...not likely. If only because he didn’t have any other explanation that even came close to explaining this. “I’d have dodged,” he assured Zuko, offering him a small smile. “But I didn’t need to. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” He turned a little as he nears Newt, and he narrowed his eyes a little. Exploring was definitely a good plan. Still, better to do it as a team, probably.
Sal caught on the way Nico was looking around, and he paused. With everything he’d been through with his dad recently, well...Sal couldn’t blame him for being a bit more on edge about whatever was happening. It had to be one of his worst nightmares, finding out he was the one who was hallucinating. That Kelsier had been right all along. “Hey,” he murmured, managing an encouraging smile. He was getting better at those, even if no one could quite convince him they didn’t look horrific. “We probably just got...I don’t know, taken by another group of survivors or something. A really dumb group who didn’t even separate us. We’ll be out of here in no time.” He glanced over at Hunter, giving him a small nod as he approached the two of them, then Newt, tensing a little. “Everyone should get to the side before he opens that,” he called. “It sounds stupid but better to look like an idiot than to get stabbed the moment the door opens. And Newt, jump to the side, okay?”
Ronan would have happily punched something, had there been anything to punch. He could always try the wall, if it came to that, but if hadn’t just yet. He glanced over at Newt as the other boy pointed out the door, and he tensed a little, then relaxed as he felt Noah slip his hand into his. He didn’t like the idea of Newt going alone, but he didn’t want to leave Noah here, either...he went back and forth for a long moment, then glanced at Noah. “Need me to kick it down?” He offered, looking back at Newt.
Varian nodded, falling silent as Newt approached the door. It could definitely be a clue, or even just the way out, but somehow he doubted it was going to be that easy, If it was? He might petition the others to let him stay for a while. There was no way he was just walking out of here. Not when someone had finally learned how to teleport people, and Varian didn’t yet know the secret. He needed to know before he left, and he would do almost anything to talk to the people in charge. “Boobytraps,” he said at the same time Sal spoke. He glanced appreciatively at the older boy before he moved forward, handing over the rubber gloves he’d managed to keep in decently good condition. “It could shock you,” he explained. “We don’t know how this works yet.”
Spook glanced around at them all, noting Crutchie as he stood up and hearing the quiet conversations as the others reacted to their situation. He tended to get very quiet when he was nervous. Quiet and invisible. Though...his family being in trouble definitely changed that a little bit. He was still terrified and he wasn’t going to stop wanting to hide under the table, but he wouldn’t abandon anyone else, either. “I guess…” he said it a little doubtfully as Wylan spoke, looking back at his friend. “I don’t know...I think I’d rather I didn’t have to worry about everyone else.”
Hunter did seem to be the last one to appear. They’d been coming in fast, and after he made it in…that was it. So it was just their group, then. Why? A better question was probably how. No, he decided, why was more important than how. Hinata seemed to be taking it in stride, at least. Kenma wasn’t certain he was exactly worried, but he did want to know where they were, and how to get back. Then they could decide what to do from there. “I think we may want to figure out where we are, before that,” he replied mildly, his voice quiet. “People don’t usually just appear in new places like this.” he glanced up as they all began to look at the door. Right…exploring. Probably the best first step.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 1:51:00 GMT -5
Newt looked over at them all, holding Sal’s gaze for a long moment before he nodded, waiting for everyone to get off to the side. He frowned, hearing Ronan, then met his eyes for a long moment. Ronan, offering to take the risk. Ronan, willing to put himself in harm’s way. But he was faster than Ronan was, more used to evading than he was to throwing punches. If Sal was right… if there might be someone on the other side of the door… he was probably the best bet for not getting hit. Except perhaps Juuzou or Nico, but judging from Nico’s expression… “I’m fine,” he said, offering a tense smile. His eyes widened a little bit as Varian offered him the gloves, and he hesitated for a long moment before taking them. "Thanks," he murmured, very carefully putting them on before he reached out to touch the knob. “Ready?” he asked, making sure everyone was out of the way before throwing the door open and immediately racing towards the nearest wall. Trying to get out of the way of anyone on the other side of the door. But nobody came.
Zuko glanced at Juuzou, brow furrowing just a little bit. Of course he wouldn’t have hurt Juuzou intentionally, but with how close he’d been when kicking… “I could’ve hurt you on accident,” he said after a long moment, trying not to sound like the thought bothered him. He knew Juuzou was fast enough to dodge, but still… he shook the thought away. There wasn’t time to dwell on it as he did was Sal had advised, moving to the side so he couldn’t be seen from the door. He made sure Juuzou was safe besides him, then winced as he waited. For nothing, apparently. Tentatively, he stood back up and approached the door. “There’s… no one there.”
Nico glanced back at Sal, taking a deep breath. He was grateful to have someone to ground him, especially in situations that didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense that he was hallucinating, because this… this place didn’t fit. The fact that his family was here… that didn’t fit either. But… he had gone after Hades. He had gone after Hades and almost died, and… and he hadn’t met Ronan or Noah before he had been tossed back out. Maybe he was being kept, maybe Ronan and Noah and the rest were all just Hades, messing with him. For perhaps the first time, he thought he understood what Kelsier felt. He shook his head of the thought. He was real, they were real… this was probably just a nightmare. Sal’s smile brought him back to reality and he tried to match it with an uncertain one of his own. After a few moments Nico pushed his doubts away, carefully following Zuko’s lead and taking a step towards the hall.
Noah didn’t like this. At all. He was grateful for Ronan there, holding his hand, reminding him that they weren’t alone, that the seven of them together could probably do anything. He was scared, but… but he was as safe as he ever was. Although if he turned now… no. He wasn’t going to turn. If he was, it would have happened by now. He tightened his grip on Ronan’s arm, blinking a bit as Zuko announced that there was nobody there. “I guess whoever took us really is stupid,” he piped up, his voice edged by more fear than usual.
Crutchie ducked out of the way as quickly as he could, well aware that he was more of a target than the others were. When in doubt, attacking the weakest was the best way to go. And though Crutchie had worked for years not to be the weakest, he knew he was the slowest of the group, and he needed to hide the fastest. Even if he hated the idea of any of his friends getting hurt trying to protect him. If it came down to it... he would rather go after an enemy than have a friend be hurt by one. He met Spook's gaze, trying to offer him a reassuring smile as the rest of the group reacted to whatever was out in the hallway. Or rather... the absence of anything in the hallway.
Wylan frowned at that, biting his lip as he glanced at Spook. "We're all competent people," he replied, though he wasn't really considering himself as he said it. "But it's a lot easier to get ambushed if you're alone. I'd rather face an enemy with friends any day. Because... well, if we weren't together, then we wouldn't be there to help if anyone gets into danger." Okay, so maybe he was idealistic, even if he wasn't quite as idealistic as Varian was. And it seemed like they didn't need to worry about any enemies after all. Somehow... being alone here felt scarier.
“Right,” Hinata replied, tilting his head a little bit. He knew they were somewhere new and undoubtedly strange, but… he saw no reason not to take advantage of it. They could do something fun now that they were here. Or they could worry and set about doing something to figure out where they were. There didn’t seem to be any zombies around, but there was the door to the hallway… the door that Newt was approaching. Hinata bit his lip, half tempted to dart in front of Newt and open it for himself. But Sal was right. That was dangerous, and now probably wasn’t a good time to be reckless. Being reckless was what had cost him a lot of his team. He had run ahead, and… and he’d gotten lost. And he hadn’t been able to find them again. He had thought he’d heard Kageyama finding him and calling him a moron for weeks afterwards. It had never actually happened. Shaking off the thought, Hinata grabbed Kenma’s arm and pulled him towards the side of the room, just as Sal had suggested. He took a moment after the door was open to look at it, but he was up and approaching almost immediately after.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t… knock first?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms and standing resolutely in place. Trying to open the door didn’t seem like the best idea. He wasn’t sure knocking was a great idea either… maybe kicking it in would be better. That way they were still getting through but they wouldn’t lose the element of surprise. Not that they really had the element of surprise in the first place. He shook his head, giving a small sigh and waiting to see what the others were going to do. If they all got to the side so Newt could open the door, he would join them. There wasn’t much time to wait. Newt pulled open the door, only to find… nothing?
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 2:08:59 GMT -5
Juuzou simply shrugged at that, unconcerned by the idea. He didn’t actually believe he’d been in any danger. His reflexes were much better than that, he could have gotten out of the way in time if he’d needed to. But he didn’t say all that. Then the door was open and he leapt nimbly to the side, staying out of the way of...nothing? He stayed where he was, pressed against the wall, until Zuko checked and gave the all clear. Then he moved, joining Zuko at the door. “There may be no one, but there are a lot of doors,” he said after a moment, voice laced with surprise. He hadn’t expected that...he hadn’t really known what to expect, but this still managed to surprise him. He stepped into the wall, moving light on his feet, his knives still safely tucked away in his coat. He’d draw them when he needed to, not before.
Sal was relieved as Nico seemed to shake off whatever thoughts his brain was supplying him with. Not pleasant ones, he guessed. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to have a dad like Kelsier was now, a dad who had lost his mind almost completely...he was getting better, slowly, but still. Sal knew it hurt Nico more than the other boy said. He turned, looking towards the door, then quietly moving towards it with the others, they definitely needed to stick together...separating was just going or end in someone getting hurt. He kept his hand on the knife he carried. Better safe than sorry.
Ronan narrowed his eyes a little, not happy as Newr took the risk of opening the door. He should have been faster. Gotten to the door first. He promised himself he’d be the one to take the next risk. He waited, tense, but no one came through, and nothing happened. “Anticlimactic, much?” He muttered, even though he definitely didn’t want anything to happen to them. Still...this was so stupid, it was starting not freak him out a little. And that made him mad. He glanced at Noah, then began to move, letting his best friend stay where he was. He didn’t want to drag Noah into anything...he hesitated as he stepped into the hall, eyes widening at the doors. “I’m gonna go through one,” he decided out loud, tensing as he prepared himself for it.
Varian nodded, stepping back as Newt took the gloves. He had no idea what was safe here and what wasn’t...he would have thought they might be inside the machine itself, maybe, if it didn’t look just like a living room. But wherever they were, and whoever had taken them, Varian knew the best way to find out was to escape and then come back when they weren’t trapped anymore. Besides, he would have wanted to explore regardless. He got out of the way as the door opened, pressing himself back against the wall. But nothing happened. He leaned his head forward, then headed for the hall with the others, eyes curious.
Spook tried to smile back at Crutchie, though it didn’t quite come out as reassured as he intended it to. He was trying, but he was also worried that this was some sort of...well, death trap. He didn’t know how this was even possible, he didn’t understand, but he wasn’t going to just...let it go. He glanced at Wylan again as he spoke, and he frowned a little, too. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re all trustworthy and competent…” he murmured, blushing just a little as he realized how it might have come across. “It’s just that...sometimes that’s not enough.” He shrugged a little bit, uncomfortable. “I’d rather be here alone.”
Kenma knew how reckless Hinata could be sometimes. He just acted. On the team, it was part of what made him so formidable…he was willing to give everything he had, all the time. He was willing to trust that the ball would always be there, even if he wasn’t watching it. Not that it always worked that way out here. But it was still a part of him, and Kenma had to hope he wouldn’t lose it. It was more valuable than he probably knew. He let himself be pulled to the side, eyes moving to the door, and Hunter’s comment. They could have knocked, he figured, but he was also pretty sure this wasn’t something they could make safe. It was about minimizing the risk, more than anything else. And then the door was open, and he waited. And waited. “A…hallway…?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 2:30:28 GMT -5
Nico was surprised by the doors. Surprised, and immediately wary. Yes… this seemed like exactly the kind of thing Hades would do, if he had the opportunity to. An endless hall full of doors… Nico shrank back just a little, then glanced at Sal. This was real. He had to keep believing this was real, otherwise he would falter. Otherwise he would be no better off than Kelsier was. If he let himself believe this was a hallucination, would he really try as hard to get out of this with everyone alive? He shook the thought away. The seven of them were going to survive this, and he was going to get home to see Kelsier. To keep watching to make sure he was okay. Nico took a careful step forward, letting the strange sight wash over him. His gaze caught on Ronan, and he froze. He supposed opening a door was the best they could do, but something about it told him it was a bad idea.
Zuko wasn’t sure he had ever seen that many doors in his life. There were hundreds, and that was only as far as he could see. There were probably more. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a building this big,” he commented, brow furrowing. He had been in mansions before. Had grown up in one, in fact. But this wasn’t anything like this. This was large and sprawling, and it made Zuko want to draw his swords. But he’d been practicing fighting without them… they’d been within arms’ reach before he had been taken, but he had no idea where they were now. He frowned, settling instead on standing a couple of feet behind Ronan, trying to let him know that he was there, that anything that could try to attack Ronan would face the two of them together. And there were very few things that would want to risk that. “Go through one,” he echoed, eyes narrowing as he looked at the door. He didn’t have any valid objections, but he kept where he was, making sure to position himself at Ronan’s shoulder.
Noah shook his head a little bit, skittishly backing up a few steps at the sight of the hallway. He almost worked up the courage to keep holding onto Ronan’s hand as he ventured in, but eventually he let go and shrunk back. It was large and it was unknown, and the doors… they could all be traps, they could all have zombies… but Noah wasn’t sure he liked the living room alone very much either. He hesitated, then tagged along with Sal and Nico, trying his best to stay towards the back.
Newt wished he could take all of the risks for his family, but he knew them too well. They were all stubborn – nobody was going to be allowed to take all the risks. They’d probably be scrambling over each other to take them so everyone else was protected at least until they got back home. It was odd, how home had stopped being a place so much as it was just… this group here, so long as it was safe. This group and Sweets. He shook his head. Sweets was probably fine. He didn’t need to be worrying about him on top of everything else. “Ronan,” he cautioned, glancing at the door. “Maybe we should do what Sal suggested again. Just… to make sure that nothing comes out of the door that we aren’t prepared for. Just… all of us get to the side, and Ronan get back as soon as you can. And then… maybe we’ll be able to find a way out of here.” He hesitated for another moment before taking off Varian's gloves. He glanced at the boy for a second before handing them to Ronan. "In case it shocks you."
Crutchie stared at the hallway, trying to keep pace with the others as they moved forward. Going through a door seemed... well, it seemed like a very, very bad idea. But they didn't really have any other options, did they? As long as they didn't get lost. His eyes narrowed just a bit and he moved forward, stopping just a few steps behind Zuko. "Hold on," he murmured, shifting his grip on his crutch and whipping it forward to create a dent in the wall by the door. "This way we'll know what doors we've gone through so we won't get lost." He knew it could also lead anyone else there right to them, but... it was likely they'd have security tapes anyway. And they'd know the building much better than the eleven of them did.
Wylan hesitated, looking at Spook for a long moment. His brow creased as he took in his friend's opinion, then gave a small nod. "Well... I trust you, and I trust what you can do, but I wouldn't want you here all by yourself," he said after a moment, hoping that Spook wouldn't take that the wrong way. "I mean... you're a lot better at fighting than I am, but if I could have your back, then I'd feel a lot better about that then just... knowing you were in danger somewhere without anyone to help you." Wylan knew he would have died a million times over if he had been left all alone. His father had tried to kill him. He'd failed, of course, but... did that matter, in the grand scheme of things? He had tried. And so had the zombies. The only reason Wylan was still alive was because he had friends who looked after him, and friends he looked after in return. He wasn't useless. He wasn't.
Hinata trusted easily. It had served him well in the past, and it had also gotten him into trouble more often than he could remember. It was what had led him to this group, of course. It was the reason he trusted his family with so much of himself. It was the being part of something. It was the knowing you belonged and knowing that other people were counting on you. It meant, however, that he didn’t tend to get suspicious when other people did. He wasn’t entirely suspicious of the place he had ended up now. Maybe he should have been. Everyone else seemed to be, but… this seemed like a neat opportunity to explore. They were all together, it wasn’t like any of them could get hurt without the others having their back. “Cool!” he gasped, tugging Kenma closer to the hallway.
“Nice,” Hunter commented as Crutchie destroyed some of the trim at the base of the door. It was a smart idea… they could easily get lost in here, and Hunter knew that not all of them had a great sense of direction. He was pretty decent with directions himself, and he knew Ronan had driven for long enough that he knew his way around most places pretty well, but a lot of the others… he had his doubts about them. He wasn’t sure even he could keep his bearings in a place like this, with so many identical doors, though. It was eerie. He was almost certain he didn’t like it, but… he didn’t want the others to know. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust him as it was that they weren’t certain it was dangerous yet. He didn’t want to be a coward. It seemed part of him still felt he had to prove himself. He’d always had to prove himself to Belos, and that was the only way he knew how to think of family.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 2:59:09 GMT -5
Juuzou walked quietly along with the others, then broke away a little, heading down the hall. He didn’t go far, but he was trying to see whether there was an end anywhere...Zuko was right. Juuzou had never been anywhere like this, either...the endless doors drew him in, sparking his curiosity. If he’d been alone, he might have just gone for a long walk down the hall, until he found something unusual or got bored. As it was, though, he wasn’t going to leave his family behind. Not in this place. He was needed here. He rejoined the others after a moment, still a bit off to the side but not as far. He considered speaking up, but he didn’t have much to say just yet. There wasn’t anything but the obvious to state, aside from Crutchie’s wall attack, which he didn’t quite see the point of before they’d checked to see what was inside, though he didn’t say that out loud. He moved off to the side a moment later as Newt suggested it. He figured it was probably a good idea to do or quickly. The longer they were here, the most danger they were in.
Sal caught Nico’s eye. He could see the fear in the other boy’s, he could see the worry. And, well? Who could blame him? This was a very bad situation for anyone wondering if they were hallucinating, even worse for someone who’s parent kept insisting that it was all fake. Sal wished he could help more, but he offered another encouraging smile, trying to help ground him a little. He blinked as Crutchie hit the wall and looked at the dent, paling just a little at the idea of the anger that could cause, but... ”Good thinking,” he said with a small nod. “Yeah, I think we should be as careful as we can be,” he agreed, looking at Newt. Then he moved to the side, gesturing for Nico to come too.
Ronan felt Noah let go, and he felt a twinge of guilt for charging in when his best friend wasn’t going to follow, but Noah would be okay. He needed to be at the front. He needed to be here, ready to take on anything. Noah would be okay. It didn’t stop Ronan from shooting him an almost apologetic glance. Almost. He looked over as Crutchie hit the wall, raising an eyebrow at the almost Ronan-like action before the other boy explained. It was a good idea too, he supposed. “Right, okay, everyone get back,” he said, and backed up, readying himself. He glanced up, then shook his head a little at the gloves. “I’m gonna kick it in...faster than opening it.” He explained. “And if anyone’s there, I’ll take them down.” He grit his teeth. Then after a glance to ensure everyone was safe...he stalked towards it again and only hesitated a split second, before he kicked the spot under the knob and threw himself out of the way as it snapped open, revealing…. Nothing. Darkness. “Oh what the f(oops)?” He muttered, staring.
Varian entered the hall, moving a little bit ahead of the others, his eyes widening at the endless doors. “Wow…” he whispered, awe written on his face as he stared. It was huge...he couldn’t imagine why anyone would need that many doors. He looked up, smiling a little as Newt gave his gloves to Ronan. That meant it had been a real risk he’d prevented...which made him happy for some reason. Not because he wanted it to be a risk. Just because he wanted to help his family, and the knowledge that he had managed that made him feel warm. “What was that for?” He asked as Crutchie hit the wall, his blue eyes wide. Then he understood and nodded a little. “Oh. Riiiight. Good idea.”
Spook started a little as the crutch hit the wall, head whipping around to see what had happened. He managed to relax a little as he realized it was just Crutchie, but still...his heart may or may not have been beating very fast. He looked at Wylan, nodding a tiny bit. “I don’t mean that I wouldn’t want you here, just that...I wouldn’t want anyone here, and the fewer, the better,” he tried to explain, hoping he hadn’t said the wrong thing somehow. He didn’t mean to...he was just trying to say he would rather die than let anything happen to anyone here, without actually saying it. He knew he, too, would be dead now if he hadn’t had help. He’d nearly been killed by his father, too, his mother had barely shielded him...he knew how Wylan felt. He felt useless often enough, far more useless than most of the members of his new family.
Kenma looked up as the damage was done, watching Crutchie for a moment before he figured it out. It was a good plan, and he didn’t think anyone really cared too much about damaged buildings anymore, so there wasn’t really a downside to it. They seemed to be moving in, though. Kenma wasn’t sure he would have done that if it had just been him, but he wasn’t going to try and talk anyone out of it. They might never her out if they didn’t figure something out. He stared into the opening as Ronan kicked it open. That looked…not very inviting. He glanced at Hinata, trying to see what he made of it. “Should we toss something in before we go?” He asked, keeping his voice down. He didn’t know if that would make it safer, but again…it wouldn’t hurt, right?
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 3:22:59 GMT -5
Nico forced himself to look up and meet Sal’s gaze, forced his heart to stop pounding into overdrive, forced himself to look straight ahead and face what was in front of him. It was real, as real as he was. As real as his memories of Kelsier before Hades. As real as Sal was, standing next to him. He could have reached over and taken Sal’s hand, but they were moving off to the side to make room for Ronan to kick the door open, and Nico thought hand holding would probably get in the way of running away, if that was what it came to. He let his eyes close for a long moment, then forced himself to open them as Ronan kicked the door open. Curiosity won out. He looked at Sal for a long moment, then moved to Ronan’s side, staring into the dark room. He didn’t have a flashlight. He didn’t even have a thing of matches or a lighter. But he’d let others take the risks before, so now it was his turn. Nico stepped in, eyes widening a little bit as he realized he didn’t step into complete darkness. It was… brighter than he expected, the walls adorned with weapons. Nico reached for his sword, cursing loudly as he realized it wasn’t there. He moved forward, taking a similar weapon, trying to figure out what this place was. An armory? Good. That meant that Zuko and anyone else who was unarmed would be able to grab something to protect themselves with. The better armed his family was… and then Newt stepped into the room and Nico’s thoughts broke off completely, his feelings rewriting themselves in his head. Danger, his thoughts screamed, anger flooding him, They aren’t your friends.
Newt watched Nico go in, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t like that they kept needing to take risks. He didn’t like that he couldn’t even see Nico’s shadow moving. He didn’t like that the younger boy hadn’t called out yet, hadn’t given any indication of what he had found. He set his jaw, pushing past Ronan to follow him. It was like being hit by a bus, his mind calm and collected and then suddenly torn apart. He almost staggered backwards but managed to keep his feet. The way Nico was looking at him… well, it was typical, wasn’t it? He glared, backing towards the wall of weapons to find a baseball bat. Good enough. He hoped this didn’t come to a fight, but… actually, no. Maybe he didn’t mind if it came to a fight. Maybe there were people bad enough that they deserved to die with the zombies.
So apparently they were all going in without questioning it. Zuko wasn’t complaining. He would rather rush into things than have to overthink them, but it surprised him how quickly some of the others had gone in. “Juuzou, you coming?” he asked, a small smile crossing his face as he gestured to the other boy, then moved towards the door. They were all together. What was the worst that could happen? Like everyone else had said, it was stupid to bring all of them here… he crossed the threshold and the control he’d managed melted away. Nico. The traitor who had caused all of this in the first place. Sal… who had convinced him not to go after Nico… Ronan… he’d never trusted him, and Newt, who was probably a spy, probably out to get him… Varian... he had to be planning something, he was always planning something... and Juuzou…. Zuko tensed, eyes catching on a pair of dual swords all the way across the room. If he was quick enough, he could get them. Or maybe… maybe he could just saunter right over. Make them attack first. Show who they really were.
Crutchie breathed out, following the others into the room. He cast Noah a sympathetic glance, trying to let him know that it was okay. But he wasn't going to wait for him, not when his family could be in danger. After all, what good was a family if they didn't look out for each other? He took a deep breath, glancing behind him once more before he crossed the threshold. Anger wasn't unfamiliar to Crutchie. He experienced it less than Ronan and Zuko, certainly, but beyond them... he thought he was probably the angriest. He just... didn't show it the same way. His anger was directed at the world, not specific people, and he dealt with it by trying to make the world a better place. Now, though... he felt his anger turn towards the others in the room with him. The... the traitors. He backed up, eyes narrowing. They needed weapons, but Crutchie had one already, technically. You could do a lot of damage with a crutch.
Wylan impulsively reached over to grab Spook's hand, giving him a reassuring smile. "Nobody's going to get hurt here," he told him, feeling more confident than he felt. He thought of the Crows, thought of his life before he had joined this group... he bit his lip. No mourners, no funerals. Nobody in his new family had ever heard the phrase, but it rang just as true here. Nobody was going to die. There would be no need to mourn. Not again. He waited a few moments to be sure Spook was ready, then crossed into the room. Chemicals could make you hallucinate. They could get in your head, make you see things that weren't there... and stepping into the room felt like that, except... more real. Like his life before, whatever had compelled him to take Spook's hand... that was the hallucination. He wrenched his hand back, a low growl building in the back of his throat as he tried to get as far away from the others as he could.
Noah hesitated outside the door. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like being here, didn’t like his family disappearing through a door that led who knew where? One that was dark, and…. And he was alone. He couldn’t afford to be alone. No matter how scary the room was, it had to be better with family. With… with… a hard shove. A kick to keep him down, wild screams that had come from somewhere, that had come from him… teeth, sharp against his cheek… and kicking and screaming and crying and then not moving. Not moving at all for at least a week. Waiting for them to come back, because Noah Czerny’s life was over. And the boys in this room with him… the boys moving to grab weapons… they were just like Whelk.
Hinata glanced at Kenma, giving a small shrug before he let go of his friend’s hand and practically bounded into the room after Ronan. It might have been a good idea, but since when had any of them followed ‘good advice?’ They were all the sort to jump into things wildly. Well… almost all of them. Kenma wasn’t. Sal wasn’t often. Spook seemed a little bit reserved at times, but Hinata knew he was just as reckless as the rest of them when he was trying to prove himself. Besides, Hinata didn’t think a place like this was likely to be dangerous. There was nobody in this giant hallway, and the room was probably something boring. He had heard of mansions with hallways like this, once. And there had been hotels… their hallways looked like this. He was expecting just to find a normal room. What hit him as he crossed the threshold was anything but normal. Hinata thought he had experienced hatred before. He had hated Kageyama for beating him. He had hated Kageyama for looking down on him and insinuating that he had wasted his life. He… that hadn’t been hatred. What consumed his mind now was hatred. Everyone here… they were constantly underestimating him. They… they didn’t think he could do anything, just because he wasn’t as practiced at fighting as they were. They were wrong. They weren’t teammates, not real ones. Real teammates would have your back.
Hunter followed the others in, uncertain about this whole plan. He wasn’t usually an uncertain person. He just… was used to having a little bit more control. He liked it when he was in charge. He liked it when he understood enough about a situation to be the one giving the orders. It made him feel like maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay. This was not that kind of situation. He stepped through the doorway and the paranoia came flooding back. All of the suspicion he’d had before he’d joined this group. The never ending need to be the best, because if he wasn’t the best, was there any purpose to being alive? He had been saved when he was young for a reason. If he wasn’t the best, then his life meant nothing. But if everyone here was alive… a hiss escaped his lips and he scrambled backwards, hands clenched on his staff. He had to beat them. He had to beat them all.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 3:56:53 GMT -5
And just like that, they all began to file into the dark. Juuzou watched, eyes wide as they all walked in. It wasn’t a bad idea, really. To just face whatever this was head on seemed like it was probably the best way to go about it, actually. He looked at Zuko as the taller boy gestured to him, and he moved to follow, taking his place by his side. Which meant, of course, that he was right next to him when he stepped through the door. It was rare to catch Juuzou Suzuya off guard. Even rarer to knock him off balance. This room did both those things. He stumbled, hands flying out to his head as something filled it. Something overpowering, and unfamiliar, something that made him look at Zuko with none of the calm assurance he had had moments ago. This...this was… Oh. Oh, this was anger. He straightened up slowly, hands falling to his side, eyes very wide. He didn’t really...get angry. Not the way other people did. Which was why he hadn’t recognized the emotion. It made him feel weak, and shaky, and like he wanted to cry or scream or both at once, and he didn’t like it, he did not like the feeling invading every inch of him. He turned very slowly and looked at Zuko. Zuko...enemy. They were all enemies. No better than the zombies. Though, perhaps a bit more entertaining to kill. He reached for his knives, and found them missing. His eyes immediately turned towards the wall...there were knives there, as many as his heart could desire. Juuzou lost no more time. He ran towards the wall, sprinting away from Zuko at top speed.
Sal stepped through the door, taking his turn with the others, though he didn’t like it. He didn’t like not being able to see what was on the other side. It resolved itself into a bright room...startlingly so. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t been able to see it from the other side. - and then he wasn’t wondering about that anymore. Because suddenly, no one here had his back. No one here was to be trusted at all. They were all...they were all wrong, messed up, they weren’t them anymore. Sal backed away from all of them, reaching for his knife...but it was gone. Okay, fine, he could just...no, the weapons wall was where everyone else would be. He needed to be strategic, he needed to keep himself alive and fight back at the same time. He didn’t trust them not to attack him, he knew they would. And he was half blind, not to mention not nearly as good of a fighter as a lot of them. Well...he’d just have to be good enough, wouldn’t he?
Ronan was near the last to go through. He wasn’t hanging back because he was scared, but because he was watching their backs, making sure no one snuck up on them. If they did, they’d regret it. And then he, too, was through. It hit him like a train at full speed. Seething rage. Hatred, it boiled over inside him, making his fists clench into tight balls at his sides, his eyes narrow as he studied the others. One of them was already running at the wall...he snorted. Showing their true colors already. He couldn’t say he hadn’t expected it. He wasn’t close enough to grab a weapon yet. He glanced around, and his eyes fell on Noah. Oh...he hated that one most of all, it seemed. Stupid. Spineless. Useless. Cowardly. Look at him...pathetic, his thoughts assured him. “What’s wrong? Can’t find a hiding place good enough for you?” Ronan spat the words like venom, breaking the moment of tense silence that had fallen over them all. “Better find one quick, before all the good ones are taken.”
The warmth dissipated the moment Varian stepped into the room, replaced by something else. Something he hadn’t felt many times in his life, maybe, but he felt it now, stronger than he could have imagined it. He looked around, studying the others...he’d thought of them as friends. Family, even. How could he have been so stupid? He hated them. He hated them all. He backed away from them, wishing he had a weapon with him. They were going to attack, he knew they would. Worse than zombies, zombies were easily defeated unless the problem was the virus inside you. Hence his weapon ideas. Which he didn’t have with him… His back hit a wall. The wrong wall. He wasn’t close to the weapons...he couldn’t get there before anyone else. He took a breath, thinking fast, trying to figure out a way out of this...but he didn’t have anything to work with. Nothing to hurt them with, nothing to protect himself with. He turned a little to look at Crutchie, eyes narrowing at the crutch he knew would work as a weapon. Well...he’d just have to avoid him, then.
Spook looked over as Wylan took his hand, trying to smile a little. He didn’t know the phrase, but the people he had been with before...well, he hadn’t exactly had a family before this, actually. Just his uncle, who had probably saved his life mostly out of pity. Not exactly the most uplifting of stories. He shook his head a little at that, and tried to believe what Wylan was saying, even if his own head said otherwise. And then he stepped into the room and went still. Wylan needn’t have pulled his hand back. Spook would have done it for him a second later, his own racing heart suddenly filled to the brim with burning fury, an emotion usually choked by fear for him. Not now. Now, it scorched the fear away, leaving only him alive in the fire. “Traitor,” he said softly, stepping toward him. “Traitor.”
“Shoyo - “ It was too late for anything more. They were all going in, and the fact that they couldn’t see anything inside didn’t seem to be enough to make them think better of it. Kenma knew this could easily be fine, but he also knew that, whatever had happened here, it wasn’t normal. He gave a small sigh and stepped in after the others, leaving the door open behind him. It didn’t matter, though. The door was gone the second he stepped inside. And something else happened. What was that…? He stood still, trying to process it. Trying to decide why he felt like these people were…not his friends. He watched the others as they all seemed to feel it, too. Something about this room was changing them. Something - Then Juuzou moved and Kenma backed away, keeping his mouth closed and staying as quiet as he could. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like this. He didn’t want any of these people to notice he was there. He just wanted to be invisible until he could figure out what was going on.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 4:33:39 GMT -5
Nico no longer cared if it was a hallucination. He wasn’t thinking about that anymore. The people around him… he trembled, hand tightening around the unfamiliar sword. He wouldn’t have much time to learn how it was weighted, he would just have to get used to it. Maybe Kelsier was right. Maybe…maybe he did care if it was a hallucination. Maybe his dad had been right the whole time. Nico’s jaw tightened and he looked between the people he had been foolish enough to call friend. The lies he had believed. He hated them. He hated them with the passion with which he hated Hades. He hated them for messing with his dad. He hated them for messing with him, for tricking him. And though he wasn’t there, he even thought that he might hate Kelsier, for teaching him to try to trust in the first place. It wasn’t worth it. It led… it just led to this. To being preyed upon and lured into trusting people who didn’t even exist. Eyes narrowing, Nico turned on Sal. How could he have thought he was real? People weren’t kind. They weren’t. Yet he had believed that Sal might be. A low growl built in his throat as he adjusted the sword in his grip. He glanced briefly up at the sound of a voice, but he could deal with them later. At least most of them had the decency to pretend to at least… have human emotions. In retrospect… yes, Sal was the most obvious fake. And Nico would kill every fake in his mind if it meant he would see Kelsier again. If it meant getting out, for real. “What?” he managed in a low voice, eyes narrowing, “You’re the one who’s so averse to conflict, aren’t you?” he managed to keep his tone even, though the anger in him was threatening to snap. “Given up your little charade, huh? Realized you weren’t going to fool me anymore? I don’t think you’re kind. I think you pretend. And I think you manipulate.” and I hate you for it. He kept that part to himself, very carefully stepping forward, trying, if he could, to back Sal into a corner.
Newt was more grateful than ever for the baseball bat in his hands. His eyes narrowed as he watched Juuzou make a run for it. There was no cover here, and he knew… he knew how good Juuzou was with knives. Maybe Newt would be able to block those with the bat? He’d never be fast enough to take Juuzou out. He cursed his stupid, broken leg. Cursed his limp, cursed that he would have been fast enough to beat Juuzou, once. Not anymore. His eyes narrowed and he held the bat out, ready to attack anyone who came too close. A small smile appeared on his face as some of them began to turn on each other. Good. The more they tore each other apart, the less work Newt himself was going to have to do. If he could just stay here… he could watch as they all picked the others off, one by one. And when there was only one left… Newt would take him down. His gaze flickered towards Varian. He could take him out, if he wanted... he was backed into a corner, alone... unarmed... he started moving before he was aware he'd made the decision to. If there had been any rational thought behind his eyes, it was gone now, and all that was left was a calculating eye, waiting for the boys he’d entered with to rip each other to threads. Fun was the wrong word for it. But the sooner they were all dead… the sooner more people were safe.
Zuko backed up, aware of just how close Juuzou was. Aware that, if it came to it, he could fight without weapons. Against swords, though? Against knives? He bared his teeth, launching himself into a roll in the hopes of avoiding anyone looking to attack him, and came near enough to the wall of weapons to grab the dual swords. It put him right in the thick of it, but he didn’t attack, not yet. If there was one thing Iroh had tried to teach him, it was patience. The lesson felt as though it was being outcompeted here, but he knew better than anything that if he were the first to strike here, he’d also be the biggest target. It was odd, thinking about things before acting, but he knew how skilled some of these people were. He knew drawing their attention… well, he could beat them. He had to beat them. And then he would take Nico to his father, just like he had planned to all along. Before Sal had tried to distract him. Before he had been forced to lay his pride down and apologize. They had stolen their honor, and Zuko knew he had to survive long enough to make them pay. Now that the swords were his… his brow creased with determination. It wouldn’t be easy, but Zuko had nothing but the bullheaded conviction that he was going to win.
Noah’s eyes widened as he stares at Ronan, every thought in his head freezing. Maybe, said the thoughts in his head, maybe it was his fault there was a virus inside Noah’s body. Maybe it was his fault he’d been bitten. Maybe it was Ronan, Ronan who hadn’t looked for him, Ronan who hadn’t once asked about the bruise on his cheek, Ronan who should have been able to pick up on it all… Noah staggered back a step, tears burning at his eyes. He had no retort. What Ronan said was true. He was scared, terrified. He didn’t want to die, and he couldn’t help but rub at his cheek, trying to back away from anyone and everyone at once. His words froze in his throat. He hated them, hated them so much it felt like his soul was shattering into two, because Noah Czerny didn’t hate. Even in life. Nobody hated him, and he didn’t hate anyone in return. But here… now… yes, he felt hatred burning like a flame he couldn’t control. It was the only thing that kept him moving backwards, that kept his eyes locked on Ronan, trying to find somewhere, anywhere to hide. Noah helped as his back came in contact with something moving and he staggered to the side, almost tripping over Juuzou. He was going to die. He was going to die, and his life hadn’t mattered not even once.
Crutchie's eyes narrowed just a little bit at the look Varian gave him. He raised his crutch threateningly, trying to get Varian to back off. He wanted to kill these people, but the impulse was so unlike him that it gave him pause. How could he want to kill them when he didn't want to kill zombies most of the time? But... but zombies weren't his family. They hadn't betrayed him by plotting to kill him the whole time. He breathed out, trying to hide his leg as best he could. What had he just been thinking about people wanting to go after the weakest? Like it or not, that was him. He needed to be more on edge than anyone else, especially as they were all grabbing weapons. Crutchie hissed, trying to get anyone looking at him to back off.
Traitor? Wylan's heart pounded in his chest, and he took another step away from Spook. He reached into his pocket, trying to breathe as he figured out how to make an explosive with the few materials he had. He needed a fire of some sort. He didn't have matches or anything... if he was careful, he could blow all of them up at once. A painless death, mostly. So long as they actually died. It was kinder than they deserved, but Wylan felt cornered. He didn't have the choice to give them exactly what they deserved. All he had was half the materials he needed to blow things up. Half was better than none. "How am I the traitor?" Wylan hissed, glaring daggers at Spook. "You're the one advancing on me. You're the one who wanted to be here alone. Maybe we should have just left you here alone."
Hinata heard Kenma’s words behind him, but it didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered anymore, because these people… these people were the enemy. They were worse than opposing teams. That wasn’t a good example. Hinata had always managed to make friends on opposing teams. That was how he had met Kenma. Opposing teams weren’t enemies. They were worse than zombies, at least. But Hinata had wanted to give zombies the benefit of the doubt, too. It wasn’t their fault they acted the way they did, and there must have been something human about them, way deep down. Hinata had never had enemies before. Not real ones. Not in this way. He’d certainly had people he didn’t like, but… but that was very, very different than this. He had never before wanted a living, breathing person to die. Hinata shoved his hands over his ears, doing his best to block out the noise of the room. Doing the best to block out the feeling that overwhelmed him. He needed weapons. He needed a way to defend himself. Luckily, he was the fastest one here. Juuzou was a close second. Newt was fast, too, but… over short distances, nobody could beat Hinata. At least… that was how he saw it. He was at the weapon wall in a moment, eyes wide as he tried to decide what to pick.
Hunter watched everyone scrabble for weapons. His staff hadn’t been confiscated by whatever this place was. Apparently, it counted more as a walking stick than it did a weapon, if the fact that Crutchie had been allowed to keep his crutch was any indication. He thought he might be offended by that, but… it was hard to tell. The other emotion in his mind was making it much harder to think. Hunter had been angry before. He was no stranger to hatred. He had felt it for many people before… before he had understood how to channel it into something more productive. Before he had learned that maybe not everyone was out to get him, maybe life wasn’t a competition to get to the top. That was what this group had taught him, but… they were wrong. They had just convinced him of that so they could take advantage of him. He stepped forward, eyes narrowing as he looked between the others. He didn’t know who to target first. Maybe Juuzou. Take the strongest out first.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 5:13:47 GMT -5
Juuzou made it to the wall in seconds, and he grabbed the knives he’d seen, ripping them off the wall as far as he could. He didn’t know how to be angry. Oh, he could be determined, and he could be deadly, but rage? He wasn’t even angry with his other family, and they were the ones who had hurt him so badly, even if he hadn’t understood it at the time. He - A body passed him. A body got to true wall first. How…? It was only an instant. But that was all he needed to grab the knife and stab forwards, right at Hinata’s heart. This was not a feeling that could be reasoned with. And Juuzou was far from the most logical of souls, anyway. It fueled him. Made his movements quicker, rougher, stronger. He wasn’t used to the feeling, but it did have a place inside him, once it was there. He was about to turn when a body hit him, and he reacted instinctively, whipping around and slicing at the throat of whoever had touched him. Blood hit his face, warm and wet, and he didn’t flinch. His aim was true...he was under no impression that the boy would get up again. He didn’t consider the body for more then a moment before he turned, throwing a knife at Newt and whipping around to face Zuko. Zuko, who had managed to get the swords. Juuzou’s eyes narrowed. He wanted to take them all out...right now.
Sal wasn’t close enough to get a weapon. His knife was gone, he couldn’t figure out where it had gone...and there was Nico, closing in on him. Sal was forced backwards, his steps careful as he moved, his eye darting around and trying to find a weapon. Nico was forcing him away from the wall...he breathed out, calming himself. Panicking wouldn’t help. Nico wasn’t a friend, he’d been stupid to think he could have friends...no one had ever really liked him at all. Well, he hated them, too. They were all wrong. He couldn’t see Nico anymore. He just saw a thing with Nico’s face, cold eyes looking out at him. It was his job to kill them all. “Yeah,” he replied quietly, his voice steady in spite of the pulsing rage he felt. “Like you’d have any idea what kindness is. Like you even know the meaning of the word. You’ve never been kind..,you’re not capable of being kind. And if no one else will take you down...I will.” He was forced backwards again, and he chanced a glance over his shoulder. He was being forced into a corner...and if he hit a wall? Nico would kill him. He had no doubt about that whatsoever. But he didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Ronan snorted as Noah backed away, and he moved towards him again, his movement almost lazy. “Coward,” he spat. “You’re just a coward. Go run away, like the pathetic piece of sh(oops) you are.” He needed a weapon. He needed to make them all pay. He hated them. He hated them. He - And then the knife connected with flesh and something much, much stronger than hate surged in Ronan, deafening him, almost crippling him. And then Noah was dead. Ronan Lynch had never been angry in his life before now. What he’d felt before was annoyance. Frustration. Mere drizzles. What he felt now was a hurricane. A scream erupted from deep, deep inside of him, filling him and overflowing into the air as he stumbled, falling to his knees, white hot tears burning his eyes. Noah was dead. No...Noah was murdered. He had been the first. He would not be the last. Ronan was up in less than a second, moving before he could think, running at the wall and grabbing the first thing he saw, which happened to be a fire axe, before he turned on Juuzou. Standing there by his best friend’s body, daring to let his blood touch his skin...Ronan didn’t hesitate. He ran at him, axe held high over his head, rage blinding him to everything else. Juuzou was going to die. Ronan couldn’t find it in him to care what happened after that.
Varian saw Newt coming the moment the boy moved, his blue eyes snapping to his face, then narrowing. So he’d been spotted already...he’d have scolded himself for not hiding better, but he didn’t think he could have. He turned and ran, hating himself for it even though he knew he didn’t have a choice, this was the wrong time, the wrong place, he didn’t have any weapons, what could he do? No, he had to run. It was his only option if he wanted to live. Besides...they were all doing a pretty good job of killing each other, anyway. He made a break for the weapons wall, trying to evade Newt before he could be grabbed. Newt had a bat, but that didn’t mean anything. Varian was smarter, smarter than all of them, and he wasn’t going to let himself get hit by it. He grit his teeth, leaning into the run, even if he wasn’t actually that fast. It would have to be fast enough.
Spook stepped forward a little more, reaching for his knife. His hand met air...nothing. He knew he’d had it before, that didn’t make sense...he shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate. He needed to be careful here, Wylan was far from harmless and now that he’d been found out? He would be desperate, willing to do whatever was necessary to kill Spook and everyone else. Not that that mattered. Spook was willing or see them all go down, they were all just traitors here, he was all alone again… “Maybe you’d should have,” he admitted softly, moving forward slowly. He didn’t need a weapon to kill. It just made it less messy. “Too late now. You’re a traitor. And you’ll die like one.”
Kenma could think fast. He was very, very good at thinking fast, and he could analyze everyone. He could observe. But that wasn’t the same as moving fast. That wasn’t the same thing as being able to make it to the weapons wall in seconds. Hinata… ”Sho…yo…” he managed, watching the boy. Watching as the boy died. And just like that, the feeling went away. Towards him, anyway. Hinata was just…Hinata, again. And he was dead. And then so was Noah. It was happening so fast, and he didn’t have any weapons at all, he had nothing to defend himself with. Nothing. He began to move towards the wall, very slowly. He didn’t want to be seen, but he knew he needed something, now.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 11:38:07 GMT -5
Newt saw the knife coming. He saw it coming, and though he tried to get away from it, he couldn’t quite manage it. The knife sliced along his side, embedding itself into the wall and taking Newt’s shirt with it. He let out a sharp cry of pain, his hatred boiling to a point as he tried to pull against the knife, tried to pull it out of the wall. He wasn’t sure he could do that without making his injury worse, and it was already staining his shirt crimson. He winced, then fell deathly still as his gaze moved towards Noah’s body. Noah. Noah, who he didn’t hate. Who got scared easily but stuck it out anyway, who dragged them into old convenience stores sometimes just to see if they still carried souvenir snow globes. Who got upset when they did because he couldn’t always help… Gentle, soft, Noah. Noah, who was now laying in a pool of his own blood. And it wasn't just Noah. It was Hinata, too, dead less than a moment later, his body falling... it was odd, that two lives could end so quickly. Two lives that were so very different. Both reckless, but both... both kinder than Newt had understood. There was so much blood. Newt had to look away, and his gaze locked on Juuzou. It was his fault. It was all. His. Fault. Newt roared, paying little heed to Ronan’s grief-stricken cry. Why the hell did Ronan get to feel like that about Noah? Ronan was… Ronan was the enemy. Ronan had just called Noah a coward. His eyes narrowed, and he found he thought he might want Ronan dead a bit more than he wanted Juuzou. He tugged at the knife again, trying to find a way to either tear his shirt to get free, or else to pull it free from the wall. He needed to be able to fight. He yelled in frustration, dropping the baseball bat and concentrating his full effort on getting free. Varian had managed to evade him. Fine. Let him get a weapon... someone else could take him down anyway.
Something sparked in Nico’s eye as he moved forward, continuing to advance on Sal. He had been lied to and manipulated and trust was a gift he was never, ever going to give away again. This was punishment for ruining the world, he knew it was, but… but Kelsier had taught him that maybe it didn’t matter. That maybe he’d been young and foolish and maybe people had gotten hurt, but it wasn’t entirely his fault… no, it wasn’t his fault. It was Hades’… and Zuko’s, but he’d get to that later. For now… Sal was right in front of him, and he was completely unarmed. And if Nico killed him… a cold, determined smile touched his features. Then maybe he would stop seeing him. Maybe he would leave the hallucination forever. And if he came back, if he came back when his blood coated Nico’s hands, then it was proof that Kelsier had been right the whole time. That this… that escaping, that being capable of friends… it was a lie. “Your words don’t work on me anymore,” Nico hissed, ignoring the sharp tug at his heart as some of his memories righted themselves. It didn’t matter what he had felt for Noah or Hinata. It didn’t matter, because they weren't real either. None of this… none of it was real. The knowledge was like a crushing weight. How much more pain had he caused Kelsier, trying to convince him that this nightmare was the truth? “You’re nothing but a puppet,” he hissed at Sal, his steps forward getting quicker. “I won’t let you fool me any longer. You can’t kill me. You know why? Because my father wants me alive. But I can kill you as many times as it takes until you’re gone!” the last word was a scream, and his sword arm went up, the blade balancing right underneath Sal’s chin. “You want to tell any more lies before I kill you?”
Zuko’s eyes narrowed, emotion rocking through him and cutting through the hatred for a second… just a second. He grit his teeth against it, eyes locking on the blood spattered across the floor. Noah, dead. Hinata, dead. And their killer, still streaked with Noah's blood, approaching. Zuko closed his eyes for a brief moment, centering himself before he got in position. Juuzou was fast, faster than Zuko could hope to be… but they had similar athletic ability. The issue was the knives. Zuko would have to be careful, would have to make sure he dodged them… and then Ronan came hurtling out of what felt like nowhere, and Zuko stepped back, almost satisfied. If Juuzou killed Ronan, so what? But… he’d partnered with the enemy before. A thin smile touched his features and he leapt in after Ronan. They weren’t working together so much as… well, defeating the greatest threat. And then Zuko fully planned to turn around and take Ronan down. Ronan was in his way. But Juuzou was a murderer. Zuko swung out with a sword, not much caring if it hit Ronan, though the strike was aimed at Juuzou. Outnumbered… that was the only way Zuko saw for them to win. Though he didn’t give Ronan so much as a second glance. He was a means to an end, that was all. And then he was right back to being an obstacle.
Crutchie let out a sharp cry, his heart pounding at the feeling of Noah and Hinata, gone. What... what was this? He breathed out, his hand shaking as he looked at the bodies. He was no stranger to death, but... those were his friends. His friends were dead now, and he hadn't had to face that since he had joined Sherlock. He had gotten too comfortable, too safe with the idea that his friends were safe, somehow. he knew that wasn't the case. He knew that everyone he loved was still in danger, but this wasn't even from zombies. This was from Juuzou. From the people Crutchie had thought might be family, the people he had come to see as friends. People he trusted. He was wrong to trust them. Without thinking, Crutchie pulled forward, eyes narrowed as he tried to go after Juuzou. The other boy would be too fast, but if enough of them attacked at once... well, Crutchie didn't trust them not to stab him in the back. But if he couldn't avenge his friend, then what was the point? He had been murdered. He hadn't done anything wrong.
Wylan stumbled the explosive pieces falling from his hand as the realization of what just happened slammed into him. Hinata was Dead. Noah was dead. Noah, the least qualified of all of them to be here. Hinata, who was half the reason they were so close to begin with. Why hadn't Wylan realized that? Why hadn't he tried to protect them? A frustrated cry rose in his throat, but he didn't have time to mourn. So much for no mourners, no funerals. It wasn't entirely wrong, though. Wylan was going to mourn Noah and Hinata, but... they wouldn't get a funeral. Wylan had no way to get their bodies out of here, no way to protect them from the people who were probably going to desecrate them. But there was no time. No time at all, because Spook was still approaching and Wylan had lost the only thing he had to defend himself. He wondered why Spook wasn't using the knife he always carried with him. Maybe it was enough to buy him time. He tried to stumble back to his feet, tried to crawl forward to retrieve the broken pieces he had been trying to make into a bomb. He just needed a few more minutes. Well... a few more minutes and a whole lot of fire.
Hunter flinched back from the feeling that forced its way into his skull, strong enough to strip away the hatred he'd felt for both Hinata and Noah. They were dead. Hunter had joined the group later than most. He had, at times, questioned his right to be there. But he still loved his friends. He still cared about them, had wanted the best for them... he grit his teeth, getting into a defensive stance. He was used to having the upper hand, but he didn't have the upper hand here. He just... he had to survive. For Hinata. For Noah. Slowly, he began to edge towards Kenma. He wasn't sure what he wanted with the other boy, but being near someone was better than being near nobody. If he could get rid of Kenma, maybe he would be able to get rid of Juuzou, too. It would be better to kill Juuzou while he still had energy, and a kill would get him on Juuzou's radar. A kill would be enough to make him seem like a threat to the other boy, and then he'd have Juuzou's attention for a real fight. Yes. That would do it. He just... needed to figure out how to kill Kenma, first.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 12:19:48 GMT -5
Sal swore internally as he was forced further backwards, his steps as small as he could make them, though he knew he was only stalling. Nico could kill him at any moment. Nico was only dragging it out. Why? Sal didn’t know. He supposed there was probably a reason in that sick head of his, but he didn’t care what it was. Then something shifted in his head and his eyes flicked to the dead boy, blood staining the floor around him. Noah...no. No no no not Noah, not kind, gentle Noah. He couldn’t be… But he was. And it was these monsters who had done it. Hinata, too. Hinata was dead too. It had happened so fast, Sal hadn’t even seen it coming. Dead. His back hit the wall and he pressed against it, but he knew he couldn’t back away another step. The only way out, as it usually was, was right through. His eye narrowed as Nico spoke, anger boiling inside him and stabbing outward. “You want lies?” He said quietly, his eye steady as he glared right back at Nico, refusing to back down. “How about your friendship. Nico? How about everything we’ve been through together, all of us? Our promises? What about Noah? What about Hinata?” He spat the words, his voice steady somehow, in spite of the cool metal brushing his skin. “Was it all a lie? All of it?” He was asking himself as much or more as he was Nico. It all made sense. They’d played him, he’d thought he’d finally found a family and they’d all played him. Him, Noah, and Hinata. His only ally was dead. But he was not going down without a fight. He moved, trying to slap the sword away from him and roll to the side, the way Zuko had shown him. Nico had gotten the sword too close to him...he thought so, anyway. If he could just get a weapon…
Juuzou watched the two boys run at him. He may have been unfamiliar with anger, but he wasn’t stupid...it was a tool. It made him stronger, much stronger. He grabbed yet another knife, replacing the one he’d lost when he’d thrown it at Newt. He didn’t have time to check to see what damage had been done, Ronan and Zuko were both running at him at top speed, driven by something as fierce as what he felt. He turned, running a couple steps up the wall and kicking off, sailing over Ronan’s head and spinning to kick him in the head as he went. He landed, light on his feet, and faced the others, eyes narrowed and focused. He didn’t stay still foe any amount of time, moving the moment his feet touched the ground, dodging to the side and slashing at Zuko’s leg, then spinning to stab at Ronan’s shoulder. He slid between them for a moment, trying to get them to injure each other and do his work for him. “So…why did you guys have to turn out bad, anyway?” He asked conversationally, spinning away for half a second before he launched himself back into the fight. “I thought...we...were...friends!”
Ronan hissed as Juuzou soared over his head, his foot connecting, but not as hard as it was supposed to be. Ronan stumbled but he didn’t fall, his attention turning half to Zuko as the other boy joined the fray - what right did he have to Juuzou’s life? How dare he think he deserved to end Noah’s killer? Noah had been Ronan’s best friend, and the rest of them were just traitors. They didn’t deserve to say his name. He didn’t deserve to say either of their names. Juuzou had killed Hinata too, faster than Ronan could react to it. He attacked, aiming a punch at Juuzou, that didn’t land as the shorter boy dodged between them. Making him face Zuko again. Seeing his face...Ronan just kept getting angrier. “Back off, asshole! He’s mine!” He screamed at the other boy, wincing as the knife connected with his shoulder. He stumbled back, hand flying to the wound for a split second, coming away stained red.
Varian made it to the wall, crashing into it and catching himself as he knocked a spear free. He breathed a quick self-congratulation and began to scan it, searching for...aha. He ran, snatching the crossbow from the wall and whipping around just as Noah’s and Hinata’s deaths crashed into him, throwing him off balance. Hinata…Noah...no no no no no they couldn’t be… But they were. And Varian knew who had done it. He raised the crossbow, aiming at Juuzou. He just had to hit him...he just had to… He fired. And missed completely. He cursed quietly, struggling to reload. Why he hadn’t practiced fighting, he didn’t know, but it was too late to go back now. This...this had to work. It just had to. The crossbow failed to reload properly. “No, no, no!” He shouted, frustration burning in him as he struggled with it. He didn’t know how to work it, but he could figure it out, fast. He knew he could. For the dead. Noah deserved that much. Varian hadn’t been as good a friend as he should have been, but he could do this. he looked at Crutchie next, eyes narrowing. He could take him...he had to, he had to take someone, he could not come away from this empty handed.
Spook gasped as both Hinata’s and Noah’s deaths rolled over him, stabbing deep in his chest and shattering something he wasn’t sure he could fix. Noah...Noah, gentle, daredevil Noah, who wasn’t quite what he seemed in the best way possible, who was braver than Spook was and didn’t even know it. Hinata, intense Hinata, who cared, who was so invested in everything he did. They were dead, now, dead and lying on a puddle of their own blood. Juuzou had done it. Another traitor, another killer. They were all killers, here...how Spook hadn’t seen that before, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t too late to end this. He watched Wylan fall, his own heart beating fast. He was jumpy, and nervous, and right now none of that mattered because he was angry. He moved forward, kicking at Wylan’s face as he tried to retrieve the supplies, a vicious thrill coming over him. He was so very, very tired of being weak and useless. Now...for once in his life, he has power, enough power to destroy Wylan and everyone else, too. All he needed to do was listen to the tiny voice in his head ordering him to end this, quickly.
Kenma couldn’t grieve yet. He wasn’t sure he could at all, to be fair, but if he could, it wouldn’t be now. He wasn’t going to survive this. That was just….a fact. If Hinata hadn’t been fast enough, what did Kenma think he could do about it? There was no where to go. No way out. He turned a little as movement caught his eye. Hunter. So he wasn’t quite invisible after all…it was easier to be ignored when he wasn’t a target, naturally. But he didn’t have a team to back him up here. So he just looked at him. Hunter…would he do it? Under the circumstances? Of course he would. He considered speaking. But he didn’t have much to add to it. It was less that he was giving up and more that he could see that running wouldn’t help. Was it giving up after you’d lost?
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 13:24:55 GMT -5
“Shut up!” Nico yelled, eyes narrowing as Sal continued. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. It was all a lie, and Noah and Hinata… he couldn’t quite reconcile them. Because he cared for them, he didn’t think… he didn’t know if they were a lie. He didn’t know about any of it, only that if he was one, he hadn’t been nearly as malicious about it as the others were. The rest of them… the rest of them were liars and manipulators, and they just existed as Hades’ puppets, stringing Nico along to make him believe that maybe he could have a family. Maybe, just maybe he deserved that. “You’re a lie,” he yelled, hating how his entire body trembled. “I believed you, and you enjoyed it. My da…” no.. no if this was all fake… then Kelsier wasn’t his dad. Then he didn’t care that way, or if he did, he had never confirmed it. And with them both trapped in Hades grasp… no, he wouldn’t do Kelsier the disservice of tying the two of them together. Nico was not his son, no matter how much he wanted to be. “Kelsier,” he continued, voice hard, “was right. About all of this. About you.” He couldn’t look at Noah or Hinata. He couldn’t do anything other than back Sal in the corner, because… “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare drag them into this. And remember I’m not the one who broke those promises. I’m not… I’m not the one who’s been lying!” Nico’s cheeks felt wet, but he didn’t dare reach up to wipe the tears away. Instead he pulled back just enough to avoid being caught off balance as Sal slapped it, then launched himself forward, aiming the blade directly at Sal’s heart. It was fitting, he thought. That was where all of this had stabbed him, too.
Zuko felt the knife make contact, hissing in pain as it sliced through skin. His eyes narrowed and he tried to turn on Juuzou, only to find himself face to face with Ronan instead. There was no reasoning with him, no convincing him that it was best to take Juuzou down together. Well… Zuko wasn’t a fan of being outnumbered either. The anger dredged itself up even deeper, eyes narrowing at the red on Ronan’s shoulder. Good. He was weakened, that would make him easier to take down. Juuzou was all but forgotten as Zuko stepped back, ignoring the shot of pain that travelled up his leg, and faced Ronan. “Really?” he hissed, levelling the dual swords in front of him. “Because if I remember correctly, it’s as much your fault that Noah’s dead. Who was it that sent him backing away? Why should you get the glory of taking down his killer?” He launched himself forward, feinting left before ducking down and kicking his leg out in a wide arc meant to sweet Ronan off his feet. Better to end the fight before it could really begin. Ronan may have been bigger, but Zuko had more practice. And he was going to take Ronan down if it was the last thing he did.
Newt’s eyes flashed as he heard the exchanges between them all. If he could get himself unpinned, he was in the best possible situation here. They were all fighting themselves, which meant they would be tired and hopefully injured by the time they got to him. He tugged one last time at his shirt, then cursed, deciding it would be easier to just take it off than try to rip the fabric free. He took a few precious moments to worm his way out of it, having to grasp the wall for support when he was finally free. He was breathing hard, his head feeling heavy and impossibly light at the same time. Blood loss? He grit his teeth, daring to glance down at the wound. That… wasn’t good. He leaned forward, managing to pick up the baseball bat. Nobody was coming for him yet. And he wasn’t going to attack unless they did. Let them all tear each other apart. It was no more than what those traitors and liars deserved. His eyes narrowed a little bit as his gaze caught on Varian. He was armed, now, but he was aiming at Juuzou. Newt had a feeling Juuzou could take care of him more easily than he himself could.
Crutchie hesitated, eyes widening as he skidded to a stop, looking between the others in the room. They were all armed now, armed better than Crutchie was. He breathed out, trembling as he realized his crutch might not be as good a weapon as he thought it would be. He clenched his jaw, deciding to press forward anyway. Until he looked up to see Varian aiming the crossbow at him. He stared at Varian, half daring him to try to shoot. He could try to use the crutch as a shield, but... well, he was vulnerable. "Do it," he hissed, face contorting with rage. "Prove that you're a traitor! Prove that you're a killer! You pretend not to be, but you know you are! We all know you are!" He glared at Varian for another several moments, turning to look at the others. Juuzou was getting away. Juuzou was going to get away with killing Noah and Hinata. Nobody here seemed to care that they were dead. Nobody here deserved to get revenge for them.
Wylan screeched in pain as Spook's foot connected, and his hand moved up to his now-shattered nose. He hissed, trying to force himself back up as quickly as possible. His vision swam for a few long moments, too long. Spook had a hold of the explosive supplies... which meant... Spook was going to blow all of them up. Why should he get that satisfaction? Why should he... Wylan grunted as he forced himself the rest of the way back up, throwing himself at Spook and trying to get him away from the device. It was his. He should be able to detonate it, not Spook. Even if he died, too... but he was an expert in explosives. He could get it to go off without killing himself.
Hunter eyed Kenma, immediately put on edge by the fact that Kenma wasn't doing anything to defend himself. He hadn't gone for any weapons, he wasn't even fighting back! It didn't make sense. Then again... Kenma had never made sense. "Even now, you can't bring yourself to care?" Hunter spat, trying to keep his voice light. Trying to make it sound like he was enjoying this. He told himself that he was. He... wasn't sure that was the truth. Two people he cared about were dead, but... he couldn't afford to care about anyone. "I hate that about you. I hate that... that Hinata's dead, and you don't even care! He thought you were his friend, you know that? But you're not anyone's friend. Nobody here's a friend. And here I was thinking I was the only one who didn't know how to be a friend. The only difference is you all are a bunch of hypocrites."
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 14:33:56 GMT -5
Sal narrowed his eye, trying to think, to find a way to make this make sense. He hated Nico, he hated all of them except Noah, they were all just… Lies. That was what Nico had called him, right? A lie? Well...maybe he was onto something. Maybe they were all lies, everything...not a hallucination, no. But a lie all the same. Not one of them, except Noah, had ever been a friend. They were all enemies. All just trying to hurt him. What had Zuko said? ‘Everyone is only out for themselves’, right? He’d been stupid to think that it could possibly be different, to think that that wasn’t the truth. At least Zuko had been honest about it, once. He was the only one who hadn’t lied to Sal’s face from the start. Not that Sal didn’t hate him, of course, but at the very least he’d been honest first. “You think I can’t kill you? Think again,” he hissed, and moved, but Nico was faster. His hand missed the sword and he didn’t have time to even begin his roll before it came at him again. He didn’t have time to so much as blink. Then he was looking down, his remaining eye wide, at the dark stain spreading from his chest. It was over before he could understand what had happened. He fell to his knees, scarred face a mask of confusion as he tried to process it, then crumpled like a puppet and was gone.
Ronan let out a wild hiss, eyes narrowed and fierce and burning with the need to hurt. He wanted Juuzou dead more than anything, but Zuko...Zuko was a close second. “Shut your mouth,” he snarled, jabbing a finger at him. “You shut up. Don’t you dare, don’t you f(oops)ing dare say that to me, you traitor. Who the hell do you think you are, asshole? Some teen who wants his honor, right?” He spat the word ‘honor’ with as much contempt as could fit on his voice. “You know what? F(oops) you. F(oops) your honor, like you even had any in the first place.” He tried to dodge back as Zuko attacked, but he was too slow. He hit the ground hard as his legs were swept out from under him, and he grit his teeth, trying to roll back to his feet before Zuko could end it. He was not going to get killed. He refused to die at Zuko’s hands, refused to let some traitor take him out. Not before he had his revenge for Noah’s death. And then something else shifted in his head and he gasped a little, eyes widening. Sal...
Juuzou abandoned the two boys behind him as they began to fight, his interest slipping elsewhere. Nico was preoccupied, it seemed. Newt, now shirtless, was injured, and not as much of a big deal anymore. He might even die on his own, with a wound like that...Juuzou knew how much it took to kill. And it looked bad. Right, then. Let the wound do his job for him. He slid behind Nico, light on his feet, and aimed. And then Sal was dead. And Juuzou’s eyes widened. Then narrowed. Murderer. Sal was his friend. And Nico had just ended him like it was nothing. He didn’t speak. Didn’t call attention to himself. Just took aim and threw one, two, three knives at the other boy, face set with unfamiliar rage. He didn’t care, he didn’t care about the others, or he hated them but not nearly as much as he hated Nico. He just wanted Nico to go ahead and die now.
Varian felt Sal’s death next, hitting him too hard, making it hard to breathe. Sal...he hadn’t been a part of this. It hadn’t been his fault, none of it. He whirled, trying to see who had done it. Nico. Of course it was Nico, he’d always been a traitor. Varian yanked on the crossbow, finally managing to reload it, more out of adrenaline than actually strength. He raised it, arms shaking, and fired at Nico. And missed again. He yelled, almost throwing the useless weapon aside. The kickback was too strong, that was the problem. He didn’t know how to aim it, didn’t know how to adjust for his own small size. Then Crutchie’s words washed over him and he turned back, eyes narrowing and fists clenching around the weapon. “Fine,” he said quietly, taking aim. “I can be a killer. A traitor to a traitor is just an ally.” And then he fired. He turned back to the wall, looking for...well. A sword was better than nothing. He grabbed it, wincing at the heaviness, then turned back to the others. And then Nico was dead, too, and Varian dropped the sword. “No!” He yelled, pain sharpening his tone. Another family member, gone. He hated the rest...he did, but...he’d hated the three who were dead, too. Hated them so much it hurt. So why did he love them again now?
Spook picked up the explosives, turning them over thoughtfully in his hand. So these were the weapons Wylan had been allowed to keep. He considered them, then grunted as Wylan collided with him and went down, trying or hold them up out of reach as much as he could. “Get...back…now…” he hissed, and tried to hit Wylan’s already shattered nose with the explosive, tried to make him hurt as much hurt as he possibly could. It was all he could do, now. The feat the only fueled his rage. He wouldn’t let go, he wouldn’t let any of these people escape...he needed to do this, didn’t he? Who was he doing it for? He shook it away. Noah. Nico. Sal. He was doing it for them.
Kenma stared back, not looking away as Hunter spoke. Hunter wasn’t armed either, was he? He still had his staff, though. He could use that, most likely. It wouldn’t take more than a solid hit to knock Kenma out, and then he wouldn’t even have to fight him to take him out. He gave a tiny sigh. He cared. About Hinata, and Noah…he cared that he’d just seen them both die. But Hunter wasn’t entirely wrong, either. He hadn’t been able to save him, or be there for him, so what right did he have to call him a friend? Hunter was angry. Why wasn’t he attacking? Did he want something first? What could Kenma possibly have to offer him? Unless… Kenma backed towards the wall. It was probably what Hunter expected him to do, but as long as there was a little bit of distance between them, it didn’t matter. A sick feeling rose in the pit of his stomach as the plan took form in his head. Hinata… You couldn’t always get past the wall. Sometime, you had to find a way around it. That was what he’d learned. He ignored the pain as more deaths rang out like a shout. He just needed to keep going.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 15:06:40 GMT -5
Zuko’s mouth twisted into a sharp smile as Ronan went down, and he approached, swords out and ready to do the damage that needed to be done. He had thought Ronan was a friend, once… pathetic. Ronan was just in the way, and he’d had the gall to insult Noah for being the only person here who hadn’t attacked, the only one among them that wasn’t a traitor, that… “What do you know about honor?” he replied, voice hard, “What do you know about anything? It’s your fault! It’s your fault as much as Juuzou’s that he’s gone! I heard you, you think that was honorable?” His hands didn’t shake as he moved forward. He didn’t doubt his path, just kept moving forward, fury boiling up in him. “Don’t you dare talk to me about honor. I may not…” a sharp gasp escaped him and the swords dropped a few inches as something seemed to fill his head, pushing everything else out of the way. Everything else was unimportant, because… “Sal!” he turned, eyes wide and horrified at the sight of the boy’s body on the floor, the blood pooling around him, staining the tips of his bright hair red… Zuko felt like he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but stare, because this… this wasn’t supposed to happen. He felt one of his swords drop to the floor, but he couldn’t even bring himself to care. What… what had… he blinked, gaze locking on Nico. It was his fault, just like the rest of this was. Just like everything else. He had destroyed the world, why wouldn’t he kill one of the only truly good people Zuko had ever met? Blood rushing in his ears, he finally managed to pick up the sword he had dropped, stalking wordlessly towards Nico.
Newt was beginning to feel the blood loss. He tried to put pressure on the wound, tried to grab the remains of the shirt he had left behind, but his thoughts were garbled, oversimplified. He hated everyone in the room. Hated them so much it ached, wanted to kill them… but was more than content to let them all kill each other first. As long as he was the one to get out of here alive… he tugged once more at the shirt, then immediately pressed a hand to his forehead as the feelings shifted. Sal… no. He gave a sharp cry at the sudden shift in thoughts. At the memories of talking to Sal, of Sal convincing the rest of them to let him join… it had been misguided, Newt realized now, but it wasn’t Sal’s fault. None of this was Sal’s fault. Newt forgot about the shirt, instead tightening his grip on the baseball bat. He wanted to kill Nico, but it seemed the others had beat him to it. He didn’t much like that, but… but as long as he was dead, he supposed it didn’t much matter who killed him.
The moment the sword hit, the moment Sal’s eye widened, the moment the light in them died, Nico knew he had messed up. Because even if Sal was fake, even if all of them were… Sal had been kind. He had tried to help, he’d understood, he’d… he’d been family, and Nico wasn’t going to throw away family even if it was fake. Even if it wasn’t what he thought it was… he gave a soft gasp, pitching forward and lightly shaking Sal, though he knew he was gone. No… no he couldn’t be gone. But the others were approaching, and that meant Nico’s life was in danger. No… that meant they could hurt Sal still, try to disturb his body before it could be properly buried. Before Nico could make certain that his friend wasn’t going to become a zombie. He ducked, wincing at the sound of a crossbow bolt hitting the wall several feet away. They... they couldn't hurt him. None of this was real. But they could hurt Sal's body, and he couldn't let that happen. He hissed, looking back at Juuzou and trying to block Sal from his view as much as possible. And then it didn’t matter. Nico’s mouth formed a tiny ‘o’ of surprise as the knives ripped through him. His body lurched forward and he latched onto Sal’s body as best he could, trying to protect him from more harm, though he knew he was gone. Nico was trembling. His mind was fighting to sort through what was real, what was false… he thought he understood Kelsier, when he attacked. The regret he felt afterwards. And then Nico didn’t understand anything at all. He fell still, dark eyes wide, hands falling limp where they’d been clutching at Sal. And his heart stopped.
Crutchie didn't have time to react to Sal's death before the bolt from the crossbow plunged into his chest and he was thrown backwards. He gave a soft whimper, knocked off balance as his crutch flew away from him. He tried to reach for it, but found that his body didn't want to respond. He tried to push to his feet, coughing as his arms gave out as well. He hated them... he hated them, but... but he'd be with Sal and Nico and Noah... and everything would be okay. Everything... he glared at Varian, trying once more to get to his feet in order to bring him down. The bolt was getting in the way, but there was nothing he could do. He had spent enough time with Sherlock to know that taking a weapon out of an injury was a terrible idea - it would just make dying happen faster. But... that wasn't an issue anymore. He noticed his vision go black, felt his body go limp. And he was gone.
No... no! Wylan let out another shriek, this one both in pain and in mourning. They were... they were all going so fast, he was losing his friends, his family, quicker than he possibly could have imagined. A sob wracked his body... he had experienced death before, he knew what it was to mourn, but... this was different. This was a massacre. And he hated everyone that was left, hated them enough that he was almost tempted to just grant Spook the honor of killing them all. Almost. Wylan's head jerked back as the explosive slammed into him, and he stayed back for a long moment before he lunged forward again, trying to get the explosive out of Spook's grasp. "You idiot!" He screamed, trying to ignore the pain in his face enough to grab at it. "You don't even know how to set it off right!"
Sal gone. Nico gone, too. They were all dying so quickly… Hunter didn’t have time to think about what it meant that the people he hated became people he loved again. It didn’t matter, anyway. They were dead now, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t the one who had killed them, but he certainly would be the one to end Juuzou for it. He was going to make sure Juuzou died, and it wasn’t just so he could prove himself now. It was to get revenge for the lives that had been taken. Lives that deserved to keep being lived, because… because they had been people. Good people, people that Hunter had been friends with, even when he hadn’t thought himself capable of having friends. Even when he had thought having friends was weakness. If anything… this proved his point. He wasn’t focusing on Kenma because he was too busy dwelling on the lives of his friends. The lives that had been stolen. Hunter breathed out, moving towards Kenma at much the same pace Kenma was backing away. He could do it quickly, or he could corner Kenma at his own pace. It wasn’t’ like the other boy was going to fight back. It turned out he didn’t even seem to care about his own life. It was pathetic how apathetic Kenma was about anything. It would be the reason he died.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 15:33:06 GMT -5
“Shut up!” Ronan yelled, fury burning inside him as Zuko spoke. “Don’t even talk about him! You don’t get to talk about him, you don’t get to pretend you care he’s gone! So just shut up!” He didn’t really care about honor, not now. He just wanted to hurt Zuko in every way he could. He wanted Zuko to hurt the way Ronan hurt, the way Noah’s death writhed inside him, smothering everything else. Sal, too. But Noah had been Ronan’s best friend for so long, and his loss felt as sharp and deadly as any sword. He’d failed to protect him. He wouldn’t fail to avenge him. He couldn’t quite reconcile his words to Noah with how he felt, so he didn’t think about it. He pushed it away as best he could, pretended it wasn’t real, he wouldn’t...he wouldn’t have called Noah a coward. He would never have done that, so he hadn’t, it was that simple. The very thought was just stupid. He got to his feet, breathing hard as Zuko turned away. “What?” He yelled after him, rage lending venom to his words. “You gonna make sure he’s dead? Sad you didn’t kill him first? I thought you were gonna kill me. You scared?” He let out a yell, turning towards the weapons wall. There were things there...maybe he could grab something. The fire axe hung limp in his hand. Maybe it would be good enough. Then Nico was gone. Nico. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. He was so young...Ronan grit his teeth, turning on Juuzou again. He was the killer here. He had taken Noah, and now he’d taken Nico, too.
Juuzou smiled a little as Nico fell, his knives doing their job almost too well. Good. Good, let him die, let him… He blinked a little. Nico...Nico, dead, bleeding from multiple wounds. And Juuzou didn’t understand what had happened. He’d killed Sal..but he hadn’t been a bad person. He was… He was family. And now, he was dead. Just like Noah and Sal. He didn’t have time to process that. He moved forward and retrieved the bloodstained knives, straightening up in time to see Zuko stalking towards him again. Zuko was the most dangerous one left. Juuzou’s eyes narrowed, hatred seething in him. Maybe...somehow...this was all Zuko’s fault. He moved, throwing a knife Zuko’s way, then dodging to the side and running, fully expecting to be chased if his knife was blocked. And it would have to be blocked. Juuzou didn’t miss. Zuko, Ronan, Varian, and Newt. They were the ones left, if Newt could be counted under the circumstances. Juuzou knew better than to count him out until he was dead, though. He’d been underestimated far too often himself for that.
Varian didn’t understand what was happening. He’d thought...no, he was right about hating them. They had to be the bad guys here, he didn’t want to even think about it. But it didn’t actually make sense, did it? He hated them...why? What was his reason for hating them? Crutchie was gone a moment later, and he stumbled, shock piercing him. He’d...he killed him. He’d killed him. He couldn’t think of anything at all. They hadn’t hurt him, they hadn’t hurt anyone he loved...he just hated them for no reason. Was it possible that…? “Guys, stop!” He called, voice high with panic. “No! Don’t kill anyone else, please...just listen to me!” He ran at Zuko, ignoring the weapons now. He hated him, he wanted to hurt him, but he shoved it away as best he could, sucking in breath after frantic breath. “Nico killed Sal, right?” He began to speak, his voices almost too last. “But you don’t hate him now, right? It stopped, Zuko, why would it stop? Come on. Think.” He didn’t know who else to turn to. Juuzou...Juuzou had killed the others. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk to Juuzou, or even if he really could. Newt was hurt...he didn’t know whether he’d survive that. Ronan might listen.
Spook nearly broke as the deaths crashed over him. He tried to move, tried to hold the explosives back out of reach, but he felt them being torn from his hands before he could. He screamed in fury, trying to claw it back, the pain of the others’ loss stabbing deep inside of him. “Just do it, then!” He screamed back, stumbling back. “Set it off! You want to, don’t you? At least it’ll be taking them down too.” He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to die...but he would, if it meant they’d go down, too. That would have to be good enough for him. The knowledge that they wouldn’t survive this, either. He wouldn’t make it, but he would rather die than leave these people alive a moment longer. They all deserved to die, except the ones who were already dead...how could they be dead? They’d been fine. They’d been fine and then...
There was probably something Kenma should have figured out, by now. He didn’t understand how he felt about anyone, or why they seemed like themselves again the moment they were gone. He didn’t know. He wasn’t good at figuring it out. He just knew that he was the weak link in their group. He always had been. No one said anything about it, but just like before the apocalypse had struck, he had lacked the same spark they all seemed to have. He didn’t think it was because he didn’t care, but maybe it was. How odd, that it was their anger directed at him that bothered him more than what he thought of them. It wouldn’t matter that much longer, but…he owed it to them to stay alive as long as he could, didn’t he? He let his eyes flick towards the wall for a split second, long enough to seem like he was picking a weapon, but short enough that he didn’t seem like he was doing it intentionally. As long as Hunter positioned himself to run the wrong direction…Kenma wouldn’t need to be fast. He’d just need to be accurate. He tensed, poised to spring into action, giving it a second so Hunter would know he planned to run. Then he whipped around and changed the position his feet were in, rapidly changing course and making a beeline for Nico’s body.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 19:54:13 GMT -5
“And you do care?” Zuko retorted, eyes narrowing. “You don’t care about anything but yourself!” But that wasn’t what mattered now. What mattered was that Sal was gone, that he was laying there and Zuko wanted to run to him and shake him and scream at him to wake up, because he didn’t want to live in a world where everyone was out for just themselves. He wanted a world where he could be fighting for Sal just as fiercely as he fought for himself… but that world was dead. The world in front of him… it was like the day when he had opened his eyes and figured out that maybe he didn’t want to do what his father wanted. Maybe he would leave behind the family name and just… continue on and forge his own path. It felt like that… like striking out into the unknown and knowing that everything you had ever held true was false. Because he had trusted these people with his life. He would have died for any one of them, but now…? Now they were just like strangers. Enemies. “Shut up.” Zuko’s voice was low and dangerous, and he turned to glance at Ronan for a long moment. “Don’t you dare talk to me about Sal. He should be here right now. He should still be here!” His rage exploded, and he tried to channel it, turning to face Juuzou. Just in time, too. His dual sword moved up, blocking the knife that had just missed hitting his heart. As it was, the force of metal against metal sent Zuko backwards a few inches, and he roared in frustration, spinning to see where Juuzou was. He didn’t have time to process Nico’s death. Pushed down the knowledge that he was too young for this, that Zuko had given up everything to ensure he stayed free. So what was there to live for now, other than Juuzou’s death? He leapt forward, aware that someone was screaming. He couldn’t tell if it was him, just that he wasn’t going to rest until Juuzou was dead. He heard a voice, but it was little more than a fly buzzing in his ear. It could be taken care of just as easily. He swung one of his swords back in the direction of the voice, not caring if he hit or missed. He hated the others in the room, but he hated Juuzou most of all. And he wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of Juuzou's demise.
It was like someone was turning switches on and off in Newt’s brain. He hissed in pain as another one was pulled, and his eyes snapped towards Nico’s body. No. No, no no no this didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He had hated Nico just seconds ago, had wanted to see him dead, and it was… it was Juuzou’s fault that he was. Juuzou, Newt’s thoughts screamed, Juuzou who needed to die now. And Ronan and Zuko… they all deserved to die. But so had Nico, if his head was to be believed. But not Nico anymore. And not Sal, not Noah… which meant… “Shit.” He sighed, pressing at the wound on his side. It was still bleeding heavily, but that wasn’t what he was worried about. Hatred aside… well, he couldn’t set it aside, that was the issue. He hadn’t set it aside for Nico, and now there was no hatred to be found for him. Newt winced… he couldn’t look at Ronan without a surge of disgust and hatred boiling up in him, but he had to. He had to, or else he was going to have to mourn him. “Ronan,” he said, his voice hoarse as he stumbled in the other boy’s direction. “Listen to me… listen to me…” best not to mention Noah, probably. He trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts even as they seemed to be failing him. “Nico… you hated him, didn’t you? You remember hating him. So why don’t you now? Think about it, why don’t we hate him anymore?” He was distantly aware that Varian had yelled something. He turned slightly, watching him try to plead with Zuko. To... to explain the same thing? Which meant... which meant he was right!
Wylan felt the others deaths, felt the despair threaten to stifle him, but he didn't let it. He swallowed, eyes narrowing as he tried to focus past the pain. At least he wasn't being targeted (by anyone but Spook, at least). It seemed that the rest of the room had managed to look past them, for the moment. He supposed that was one good thing about being practically invisible. He didn't like it most of the time, but it meant he had survived this long. But... what was the point of surviving if his family was all dead? A tiny, desperate tone escaped his lips as he tried to press the thoughts away, doing his best to set up the explosive. There weren't enough pieces to get it to hold together on its own. He could save himself if he set it off correctly, but... he couldn't get it set up and ready to blow without help. Some nasty thoughts filtered through his head as he realized that either the explosive wasn't going to work, or he would need help. Reluctantly, he raised his gaze to meet Spook's, only just becoming aware of what exactly was happening in the rest of the room. He heard Varian and he heard Newt, but their words didn't hit home, not yet. They were just desperate to save themselves. Typical. "Spook," Wylan said, voice hard. "You want to take them down too, right? Then help me. It... it won't work if I do it alone."
Hunter tensed, his eyes narrowed as Kenma poised himself to run. Of course he was going to run. Hunter didn’t know why he felt a small flicker of satisfaction at that. It wasn’t that Kenma was scared of him, it was… well, Kenma cared about his own life enough to at least try to save it. Hunter wasn’t sure why he was grateful for that. It also pissed him off, so maybe he wasn’t grateful so much as… he had never been good at feelings. It had always been easier to shove them down deep, because then they couldn’t bother anyone else. He didn’t have the time or the energy to even begin to sort them out here. He shoved the feelings down again, springing in the direction Kenma seemed about to run. And then Kenma ran another way. Hunter cursed under his breath, springing forward in an attempt to catch Kenma before he could get too far ahead. He wasn’t as fast as Kenma, but even if he was, he couldn’t have caught him. Kenma had gotten a good few moment’s head start, and with a distance as short as this, that was everything. Besides, Hunter had needed to turn himself around, and that had taken a few more milliseconds. He was feet behind Kenma by the time the other boy got to Nico’s body. He wasn’t paying attention to what was happening in the rest of the room. It didn’t matter. His target was Kenma, and he was going to take him out as quickly as he could. Once he did that, he would fight Juuzou.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 20:29:05 GMT -5
Juuzou ran, risking a glance over his shoulder as he hears the knife hit the swords. “Too bad,” he said softly, and dodged to the side, trying to circle around to Newt and Ronan. Newt, of course, was injured. He would probably die soon. Ronan wasn’t hurt yet, but he wasn’t as good as Juuzou was. All Juuzou needed was to end Zuko. The other two would be simple. He had to think fast. He was small, nimble, stronger than he looked...a tiny smile crosses his features as he decided what to do. He was angry, yes, but it had settled into the decision to kill. These were enemies. He was going to destroy them all, one by one. When he crashed into Ronan, it was calculated. One knife stabbed deep into his side, mostly to weaken him, and then they both spun so Ronan was between Juuzou and Zuko. That being done, Juuzou shoved Ronan at Zuko and followed it with his own body, using his small stature to hide behind Ronan as a human shield until Zuko got close enough for Juuzou to throw a knife over Ronan’s shoulder, then strike fast from the side.
Ronan gave a harsh, humorless laugh, his expression sharp and deadly. The laugh died a moment later, and he moved after Zuko, axe swinging from his hand, back and forth, back and forth. He stopped when he reached Noah’s body. It was still, limp and abandoned where it had fallen...and it lacked everything that made it Noah. It was just a thing, now, nothing more than a zombie. A zombie. Noah might come back. But he wouldn’t be him. Ronan knew he should make sure that couldn’t happen. He was supposed to make sure Noah couldn’t come back like that, this was the bit where he did his part, as Noah’s friend. He raised the axe high above his head...and stopped. And he tried to let it fall. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. He stood still like that for a long moment, then turned away and swung the axe at the wall as hard as he could, embedding it deep into the hard material. He glared at it, breathing hard, then turned as he heard a voice. Newt. Hatred burned deep inside of him. Newt was an enemy. He hated him, he wanted to hurt him more than anything… “What?” He asked harshly, narrowing his eyes. It was a lie, of course. But...it was also true, wasn’t it? He had hated Nico, wanted him dead. And he couldn’t reconcile that to how he felt now. He hesitated, every muscle in his body tense, as he - He gasped as the knife pierced him, and stumbled. Before he knew what was happening he was being shoved to the side, off balance and trying desperately to regain it.
Varian didn’t have time to back off. He didn’t have time to think. Maybe if he’d been expecting it he would have been able to dodge back in time, but for whatever reason, he wasn’t. The sword came at him. His eyes widened as it made contact, a deep red gash appearing across his gut. He lifted his eyes to Zuko, his expression hurt, betrayed, even angry, but not as angry as they had been. He was on the ground a moment later, staring at the ceiling. He must have fallen backwards, he assumed, must have hit his head, was that why he couldn’t think? He hoped the damage wasn’t too severe. He needed to be able to think. He heard shouts erupting from around him, but it faded into background noise. The last though on his mind was that he was glad he didn’t have to grieve anyone when this was all over. And then there was nothing on his mind at all.
Wylan wasn’t the only one who was mostly invisible to the world. Maybe that was why they got along so well, actually. Both of them insivible, both afraid they didn’t really belong, even with their family. Yes…that was probably why they’d gotten along before now. It didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered because they couldn’t get along now, they hated each other and Spook didn’t care if it hurt, as long as he managed to kill them. He didn’t think about why this had happened. He didn’t imagine why it didn’t make sense, and it really didn’t make any sense at all. But…who cared about that? Spook didn’t, not when there were traitors to kill. He watched Wylan try to set it up, his eyes narrowing as the other boy seemed to pause. Was he rethinking it? Spook didn’t want to have to learn how to set it off, but he would if Wylan didn’t do it. He’d kill him and take it if he needed to. Then he stopped as Wylan looked at him, his eyes widening a little in shock. It didn’t make sense…or maybe it did. An enemy of an enemy was a friend, right? And they could kill each other plenty after the others were gone. Yes. He understood what Wylan was thinking. He hesitated, then dropped down next to the other boy, swallowing his anger for the moment and focusing on the bomb. “What do I do?” He managed to ask through gritted teeth, his attention focused away from the others. He didn’t hear Newt or Varian. He just heard noise.
It worked, which was all Kenma had been hoping for. It was only a moment, but it was enough to throw him off, and that meant he had a chance. He made it to the body, which was already beginning to cool. Three knives seemed excessive, but everything in this place seemed over the top, everything was concentrated, and Hunter wasn’t going to give up that easily. Why did he care about Kenma? Why not someone else? Surely there were bigger targets in the room. He didn’t have time to figure it out. He pulled the closest knife from Nico’s body and turned to face Hunter again, holding it steady out in front of him. And once again, he didn’t know what to say. Hunter didn’t need a speech. It was what it was, and Kenma was tired already. He wasn’t nearly as good at this as the others were. So he stayed quiet, and waited for Hunter to make his move. He wouldn’t attack. But if he had to kill to save his own life, then…then he’d try. He owed Hinata that much.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 20:54:43 GMT -5
Newt, though distracted by the blood loss, saw what was going to happen before it occurred. His eyes narrowed, a gasp escaping him as Ronan was stabbed and pulled around… a human shield. Maybe it was too late to save him. Maybe he didn’t want to. Newt pushed the thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t believe them – his thoughts had told him he had hated Nico, and Sal, and Noah… and he didn’t. He knew he didn’t, and he had watched as Ronan realized, too… it was hard to keep his balance. He didn’t trust anyone here. They were likely to stab him in the back, likely to kill him and laugh over his dead body… but the suspicious voice in the back of his head told him they would mourn him. And maybe that wasn’t so bad a fate after all. He didn’t have much time. He didn’t have much strength. He picked himself up, running at Zuko as fast as he could, barreling into him with every last bit of strength. He gave a muffled whine as Juuzou’s knife embedded itself in his back, his arms wrapped desperately around Zuko as they both went down. “Stop…” he gasped, trying to push himself up to his elbows. His arms gave way and he winced, trying to clear the hatred from his head. “Stop, this… there’s something going on here.” He didn’t know what it was. His mind said not to trust the others here. His thoughts didn’t lie. But instinct didn’t make him pull away from Zuko. It didn’t make him turn tail and run. Not that he could have, even if he’d wanted to, but… His vision was going dark around the edges. Nobody could blame anyone else for his death. Sure, it had been Juuzou’s knives, but this one… it hadn’t been meant for him. “Stop,” he said again weakly, protesting as he was thrown roughly off of Zuko. He had failed. And the feelings flooded him as Varian's spirit flickered out. They both had failed. He took a moment, eyes locking on Varian's body. He could... he could get to him, he could protect his body, he'd tried to do the right thing... unable to get to his feet, Newt began to try to crawl towards his friend.
Zuko’s eyes narrowed. His target was Juuzou, but the other boy was just so damn hard to track, quicker even than Zuko was. He had to catch Juuzou when he didn’t expect it, then. Deliver an attack when he wasn’t expecting one… and then Ronan was in front of him instead of Juuzou, and Zuko found he didn’t care. He roared, bringing his swords apart to slice at Ronan from both sides. And then he wasn’t facing Ronan anymore. He was on the ground, dual swords clattering out of his hands as a weight landed on him. He heard Newt’s words, but they didn’t process. He was an enemy, why should he listen to him? He pushed him off not taking any care to be gentle. He tried to ignore the feelings crashing into him, because the voice hadn't been a fly, it had been Varian. And it was Zuko's fault he was dead. He couldn't... he couldn't afford to dwell on that. He was going to settle this with Juuzou, once and for all. And if he had to do it with Ronan in the way, fine.
Once again, Wylan was grateful to be out of the way of the majority of the bloodshed. He saw how the others were tearing each other apart, saw how one after another of his family fell, slaughtered by the enemy. Varian's death rocked through him and he gave a low, pained sound. He didn't want to deal with more deaths. No mourners. Was the only way out for everyone to die? If they did that... there really would be no mourners. Nobody would even know what had happened to them. He glanced at Spook, hesitating for a long moment. "Hold this," he said after a long moment, showing Spook how to hold it steady so he could finish setting it up. He breathed out, then glanced at Varian's body, hesitating. "Spook," he murmured, unable to quite tear his gaze away. "Did you hear what Varian was saying?" He'd hated him when he had overheard Varian's words. But now... now there was an empty, ragged hole torn in his chest. Varian was family. He'd hated him, and now he didn't.
Hunter’s eyes widened as Kenma grabbed a knife. Shit. That meant he was armed and Hunter was unarmed. Did Kenma even know how to use the knife, though? Hunter took a step forward, his body tense and the staff held out in front of him like it could serve as a weapon. It could, technically. He didn’t know how strong the knife was… was it strong enough to cut wood? It had been strong enough to pierce Nico’s heart. Was it the same knife that had been used to kill Noah? Hinata? There was no way of knowing. All of them were soaked in blood. The whole room was soaked in blood. Varian was gone. It weighed heavily on Hunter, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He just… he had to kill Kenma. He had to kill Juuzou next, but the only way to get his attention now was by killing someone. If Hunter killed the person who had killed everyone else in the room… he won, right? And then he wouldn’t have the blood of his friends on his hands, just the blood of the enemy. He pushed the thoughts away. They weren’t going to help him win this. With a sharp shout, Hunter moved forward, swinging the staff like a bat and aiming it directly at Kenma’s head.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 21:12:29 GMT -5
Juuzou’s eyes widened as his knife hit Newt instead of Zuko, and the two of them went down. That wasn’t at all what he had expected to happen. Why would Newt try to save someone else? Why would he die for Zuko? It didn’t make sense...unless… No. No, that wasn’t possible. These were enemies, he couldn’t let himself forget that, not for a moment or they’d kill him. He needed to end them all, one by one. He shoved Ronan away from him and moved forward, trying to kick Zuko’s swords away from him before he could get up. He backed away quickly, hoping to avoid being grabbed if he could - he may have been stronger than he looked, but he was still the smallest one there - and threw another knife, hoping to get a hit in before Zuko could retrieve his swords. He felt Varian’s death, but he shoved it off, ignoring it as best he could. He didn’t have time to feel it now.
Ronan grit his teeth, trying to ignore the wound as best he could as he struggled to shake Juuzou off. And then he was being shoved to the side and he stumbled, catching himself on his hands before he could fully collapse. He gasped for breath, the wound making it hard to collect his thoughts. What had Newt been trying to tell him…? Something...something was wrong. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he finally forced himself to remember the things he’d said to Noah. The insults he’d spat at him. Noah… Ronan’s last words to Noah had been insults. Calling him a coward. Calling him pathetic. And it didn’t make sense. And then Varian’s death hit him too. Varian...no. He hadn’t deserved this, either. He forced himself to his feet, swaying a little. “Stop!” He yelled as loud as he could, turning to look at the last two. He hated them. He wanted them dead, and Newt was right. It didn’t make sense.
Spook felt every death like it was his own. Every time another light went out, and another body fell, torn and empty, he felt it and his hatred turned to grief. He’d never heard Wylan’s no mourners, no funerals, but if he had, he might have asked if he really thought that was possible. If he thought no one would mourn them, if he thought, even if there wasn’t an official funeral, one wouldn’t be held in ever heart that missed them. He didn’t know if it was true, but he’d once heard someone say that you touched a thousand lives just by living, and when you died, you were mourned by a thousand people, even if they didn’t know your name. Or maybe that was all just wishful thinking. Maybe people like them didn’t get funerals or mourning. Maybe people like them just died. He gave a sharp nod as Wylan spoke and held the pieces in place, his expression hard as he looked up for the other boy’s next instruction. And stopped. Because he had heard Varian. He knew what he’d been saying...he shook his head, pain in his chest at the thought of him gone. “I heard him,” he muttered, eyes lowering quickly to the bomb. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make any sense at all.
Kenma took a small step back as Hunter approached, the knife clenched in his hand, though the warm blood made it slick. He wasn’t sure he could hang onto it, even if he needed to. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. If it had just been him, he wasn’t sure how hard he’d have tried. It wasn’t fair, but he didn’t expect it to be. What was he supposed to do? Varian was gone too. Kenma felt it. How many more? What could he say to make this better again? And then Hunter moved and Kenma tried to dodge, tried to get out of the way, but he wasn’t quick enough. The blow hit him squarely in the head and he dropped, hitting the ground before he could even process what had happened, He gasped, hard, trying to catch his breath again, trying to ignore the pain exploding across his head and blinding him. The knife was gone. He wasn’t sure whether it was under him or whether his fall had made it slide away, but he didn’t have it anymore. “P…please…” he managed, breathless. It was the first thing he’d said in this room. It would probably be the last.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 21:29:17 GMT -5
Newt lost track of what was happening. He could feel vibrations as the others moved around, though the knife had been buried deeper in his back from the way Zuko had pushed him. It didn’t much matter – he’d been about to die anyway. It just… meant that Juuzou wasn’t the only one left alive. It meant that there was still a chance, even if he was choking on his hatred of them all, for them to reach some sort of conclusion. For them to understand what Newt was failing to. He tried to force himself to his feet, tried to keep going, but his time was up. He forced his eyes open, wanting to stay alive, wanting to… to… his thoughts escaped him, torn away by what felt like wind. The last thing Newt heard before life slipped from his grasp was Ronan’s shout. He died smiling.
Zuko yelled, trying to get the swords back before Juuzou could throw the knife. He managed to get one up before he felt the knife whiz past him, nicking his ear. He let out a scream of rage, reaching for the other sword when two things hit him at once. Newt. Dead. And it was because he’d taken a knife for him… because he’d understood something, had tried to protect him against Ronan and Juuzou. Against the enemies. And Ronan, shouting. Newt hadn’t just saved Zuko, he had saved Ronan, too. Which didn’t make sense. Why had he done that? But he couldn’t afford to pay Ronan any heed. He couldn’t afford to look away from Juuzou for even a second, because that second could mean death. Yes… that was what Ronan was doing, trying to distract him, trying to get him killed so he could be the one to leave here alive. And Zuko knew that was the only way out – there was no world where two people were walking out of here. He ran at Juuzou, trusting that Ronan would bleed out, eventually. At the very least, he probably couldn’t fight as he was. In one heart there was only room for so much grief. And Zuko let his burn, let it fuel him as he ran, swords out and ready, aimed to stop Juuzou from getting away again this time.
Wylan didn't know for sure that nobody would mourn him. He thought that was the case here, where the only people left who might have were the very same people he hated. The people who hated him. Everyone else that had reason to mourn him... well, they weren't going to. They would never know he died. There weren't very many people in the world who cared about Wylan Van Eck. The number had just been decreased by more than he cared to consider, glancing at the bodies on the floor. He didn't want to think about them. he didn't want to grieve them anymore, not when there were only five of them left. Soon to be four, if Ronan was in as bad of shape as he seemed. Wylan forced his thoughts away, instead focusing on Spook. He didn't understand, but... but the fact that he didn't just added to the sense that there was something desperately, desperately wrong here. "I hated Newt," he whispered, staring at the half-set up explosive. "I hated him. And now I don't." He looked up, gaze desperate as he searched Spook's eyes, trying to push away the hatred that burned in his chest. "You wanted to be here alone. Tell me, Spook. Tell me why, again."
Maybe it was that Hunter had been the last one to join the group. Maybe it was that he had never thought he’d have friends, so he hadn’t let himself grow as close to the other boys as he might’ve otherwise. He still saw them as family, of course, but… he had never had a real family. He couldn’t count Belos, not when he had just been a thing for Belos to use. The truth was this: the others probably cared more deeply for each other than any of them did for Hunter. They probably cared more for each other than Hunter did for any of them, though he was still fairly certain he loved them all. He just… didn’t know as well what love was like. He hadn’t had as much time to see them as family. Whatever the case, the room worked on him, but perhaps without the strength it did on everyone else. Hunter hesitated, something in his expression flickering at the single word from Kenma. He didn’t want to listen. He just… he didn’t think he had ever heard Kenma say anything with that much emotion behind it. It seemed to strike something in him, something that freed him from the room’s grasp. Or maybe he was right about the room’s grip on him not being as strong because he wasn’t capable of caring as much. He had called the others hypocrites, but he was a hypocrite, too. Hunter pointed the staff at Kenma, hand shaking as he pondered whether to strike again. As something in him kept him from swinging.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 7, 2021 22:10:22 GMT -5
Juuzou ran, dodging away as Zuko managed to get his swords back. He circled around to the weapons wall again, snatching a few more knives from it before he ducked away again, determined to keep moving. Zuko was harder to kill than he’d anticipated...not impossible, but not easy. He heard Ronan, but he ignored him. He was trying to throw them off, probably because he knew he wouldn’t survive the stab wound and he didn’t want to lose. It wouldn’t work. Juuzou was blocking everything but the fight from his mind now. Then Newt was dead and he hissed, hating the pressure in his head at the next death. He’d died because he’d been trying to protect them...protect Zuko. This was Zuko’s fault. He didn’t care that it had been his knife. He hadn’t been aiming for Newt...okay, he’d also been the one to give him his original wound, but...he just didn’t have time for this, if he thought, he would die. Zuko was his enemy. He didn’t have time for grief. “Come on!” He called, turning to face Zuko as he danced backwards, knives splayed out like claws. His eyes burned, and he waited, daring Zuko to attack. “You’re so slow.” He needed to get Zuko’s swords away from him. He could just keep blocking the knives, unless… Juuzou ran again, darting away as fast as he could, then whipping around and throwing one knife at Zuko’s heart, then a second one at his leg. There, see if he could block them both.
Ronan stumbled, catching himself against the wall. They weren’t stopping...they weren’t going to stop. And why should they? Let them tear each other apart. No, Newt had been right. There was something seriously wrong here. Something he didn’t understand. And he probably wasn’t going to, he thought grimly, slipping down the wall, his hand stained red as he glanced at it. He needed to put pressure on the wound, or something… He was bleeding out, fast, but he wasn’t dead yet. He watched the other too run, and tried to get up again...that wasn’t happening. Juuzou knew how to hurt people, it seemed. “Newt…” more pain slammed into him. Newt, dead. And he was right. Ronan grieved him. Which meant he was right about the rest, too. “Hey!” He yelled as loud as he could, his voice weak. “Stop! Just...stop…” he knew they wouldn’t listen. He wasn’t even sure how loud he was actually managing to yell...he coughed, wincing at the stab of pain that resulted from the motion.
Spook didn’t want to think about the others, especially not the ones who were gone. He didn’t want to imagine them alive, remember all the things they’d done together. He didn’t want to think about mourners or funerals now, he just wanted to go back to a time where things had made sense. A time when he’d loved them and they’d loved him and they’d all been together. He stared at Wylan, his breath coming in too fast. He was scared, he realized after a moment, surprised at the discovery. He was scared and he shouldn’t be, he should be too angry to be scared. He stared as Wylan spoke, his eyes narrowing a little as the anger surged inside him, but...but wasn’t he right? Spook had hated them, and now he didn’t. There was just pain where anger had rested moments ago. “I wanted...to be alone,” he repeated slowly, frowning as the thoughts failed to work in his brain. Why couldn’t he think? “I wanted to be alone because...because I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.” He looked up, eyes wide as he met Wylan’s gaze. He didn’t know what that meant, only that it was true.
Kenma could understand that. He didn’t really know how to be close to people, either. He had Hinata…and he had everyone else, in a way. But he didn’t think he was quite like them. Not completely. He wasn’t as reckless, and he didn’t tend to care as much. They were just things. He tried, but most of the time he mostly wanted to be left alone. He missed his video games. He missed having things to do with himself when he was alone. His own thoughts weren’t always the best company. And he didn’t want to die. It was ridiculous how much he didn’t want to die. What was Hunter waiting for? He wanted this. He wanted him dead, didn’t he? Kenma closed his eyes. There was no way he was making it out of this. He didn’t want to see it coming. And it hurt. More than he’d expected it to. His head throbbed, and he couldn’t seem to think straight anymore.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 7, 2021 23:35:40 GMT -5
"Exactly," Wylan murmured, staring into Spook's eyes. He hated him. He wanted to punch him, wanted to make him hurt in every way possible. But he didn't. He just pushed the bomb to the side, grateful that it wasn't complete as he very gently forced himself to take Spook's hand. "I think... I think whoever brought us here isn't going to let us out until we all kill each other." He glanced at Juuzou and Zuko, shuddering a bit. They were doing a pretty good job of that, and once one of them died... well, they had heard Varian and Newt's words as well. It didn't seem to have had the same effect on them that it had on Wylan and Spook. Wylan took another deep breath, forcing his blue eyes closed for a moment before he made his decision. "I trust you. I hate you, and I think you hate me, but... but I trust you, right now. And I need you to trust me. There's something my old crew... er... my old friends used to say. No mourners, no funerals. It was basically like saying good luck... if a mission went well, then you survived to the end of it. And... and we've lost so many, but... but I think at least three of us can make it. Play dead with me. They'll look us over, and if I'm right, then they'll let all three of us out. You and me and... and whoever wins between Juuzou and Zuko." He hesitated for a long moment, daring a look around. "It's too late to avoid mourning. But a small victory is better than none at all, right?"
Zuko cursed under his breath, backpedaling a bit to avoid Juuzou’s next attack. If he followed… if he followed, he would die. He would make Juuzou come to him. He would have this fight on his own terms, not Juuzou’s. His mind felt as though it was working at a thousand miles a second, speeding ahead and circling back and trying to figure out any possible way to kill Juuzou and survive this. He hated Ronan even more in that moment. If he had allowed them to work together, Juuzou might already be dead, and then… then they’d be okay. He knew they wouldn’t be. He knew he would have had to kill Ronan after… but giving the other boy a quick glance, it seemed he was already dying. Zuko shook the thought away, stepping back just a bit as he watched Juuzou, trying to assess what he was going to do next. The knives were coming before he could process hem, and his swords were moving, one in each direction. He staggered back a bit as they ricocheted off his swords, and he ran full speed at Juuzou. If he could make him use up all of his knives… but no, there were more on the walls, and Juuzou could easily recover the weapons from his victims. All of them… all of them but Sal… were Juuzou’s fault. Sal… Zuko shook the thought away. He didn’t have time to mourn him, not yet. He moved forward, ducking and rolling and sweeping a leg out to attempt to catch Juuzou off guard. He heard Ronan. He heard Ronan and he was curious, curious why Newt had tried to save him, too, curious why Ronan was yelling at them to stop when surely he wanted them both dead as much as Zuko wanted Juuzou and Ronan dead… Zuko ran, attempting to get close enough to Juuzou to aim a strike at his leg. The sooner he could kill Juuzou, the sooner he’d be able to ask Ronan what he meant. But he couldn’t stop, not when Juuzou wasn’t going to stop. Not when stopping was going to get him killed. “Look at your body count!” he shouted at Juuzou, eyes narrowed. “Was it worth it? They were good people! Family!” In truth, he didn’t know why he was speaking. Didn’t know why he was wasting the energy. But he knew… he knew he had to win this fight. And he knew he couldn’t let whatever it was that Ronan had to say die with him. So he needed to win quickly.
Hunter watched Kenma for a long moment, his staff pointed at the other boy, his hand shaking in spite of his best effort to control it. He could kill him. He could kill him so easily, and… and… he scoffed, letting the staff drop to the ground. It bounced against Kenma’s leg, but it didn’t matter. He picked up the knife from where it had fallen, turning his back on Kenma and moving towards his real target: Juuzou. Kenma hadn’t hurt anyone. Kenma… he didn’t know how to think aobut it. He didn’t know why he hadn’t killed Kenma. He could have. He might, still, if he managed to kill Juuzou first. He took a breath, lifting the knife so he could see it just a little better. He didn’t use knives often, but… it was the weapon he had easiest access now. It also seemed like some sort of justice to kill Juuzou with his own preferred weapon. It wasn’t ideal that Juuzou was in the middle of attacking someone, but… Hunter’s eyes narrowed and he launched himself at the older boy. With some luck… he would catch him by surprise.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 8, 2021 1:12:03 GMT -5
Juuzou watched, eyes narrowing a little as Zuko blocked his knifes again. He needed to get his swords away from him, somehow...how? He knew he was going to have a hard time beating him like this. He needed a new strategy, and fast. He didn’t have time. He didn’t have any more distractions, and he couldn’t keep running forever. He could keep evading for a while, he knew, he was good at that, but Zuko..,he wasn’t a zombie. He had a brain, a working one, and he was using it. That made him a much more challenging opponent He ran, speeding past the bodies. Ronan was as good as dead. The rest were gone. It was just him and Zuko left. And it was stupid, but he wished it wasn’t. He missed them all already. He didn’t stop moving for even a second, couldn’t stop to think. Was he running from Zuko? Or was he running from something else now? His knives felt heavy, he couldn’t figure out why he’d done what he’d done to them...no, he couldn’t think about that. They were gone, and he needed to stay alive, whatever the cost. And somehow...somehow, he blamed Zuko for this. Somehow this was all Zuko’s fault. He jumped over the leg effortlessly, slashing at Zuko as he went by, trying to duck in and out before the taller boy could get a hit in. He was fast, he could use that. If he could just... He heard Zuko, and he turned, facing him. He was barely out of breath, just barely. And he didn’t have an answer. He remembered killing them. He had their blood on his hands, literally. His family...dead. All dead. Except the two traitors. Ronan would die soon enough. And then he was dead and suddenly he wasn’t a traitor anymore. He was just another family member, dead. “Why…?” He didn’t finish. He didn’t know how to finish, he didn’t know what he needed to ask. He needed answers. He just..had to kill Zuko. Maybe that would explain it all to him. Just…a couple more to go. He was so tired. He swayed a little. Then he threw himself at Zuko, letting out a cry of rage and pain, his knives ready. He threw one at the last second to try and make Zuko use his swords to block it (and therefore not use his swords to kill Juuzou), then followed it with his body, throwing his whole force into the attack, though he knew Hunter was there, too. Hunter would die in a moment. As long as Juuzou didn’t get distracted, he could take care of it. Two at once wasn’t a big deal. They were just enemies. Their job was to die.
Spook hated Wylan, and Juuzou, and Zuko. The rest…he didn’t hate them anymore. He had but he didn’t now that they were dead, and he knew Wylan was right. Newt and Varian were right. This didn’t make any sense. He breathed out, trying to think. It had to make sense, somehow. Even if he did care about the answer so much as he cared about getting out. He didn’t want to hate anyone anymore, except maybe whoever was responsible for this. He would probably still hate them when this was all over. Assuming he lived, anyway. So many dead. He felt like it was going to break him, felt the losses crushing him inside. He met Wylan’s eyes, and forced himself not to pull his hand away. A moment passed, and he didn’t answer. “No mourners, no funerals,” he repeated, committing the phrase to memory. It fit here. They could use the luck, and every one of them was lost from somewhere. Every one of them had a home that only existed in memories. They had each other. Or...they had before now. “Okay. I trust you,” he said quietly, and squeezed Wylan’s hand very gently. “We have to make it. So someone mourns.”
Kenma couldn’t tell who was left. He couldn’t see…he couldn’t seem to sit up. His head hurt. He felt dazed, and he thought maybe he was bleeding. But he could tell. He could tell who was left, couldn’t he? He closed his eyes. Zuko, Wylan, Spook, and Juuzou. Those were the ones he still wanted nothing to do with. Everyone else had to be dead. He hadn’t noticed it. He hadn’t noticed when they’d been killed. He didn’t move. What was he supposed to do? He was as good as dead. They’d come back and kill him soon enough. He opened his eyes and pushed himself up, slowly. Where were Wylan and Spook now? There they were. Not trying to kill each other, somehow. Had they broken free?
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 8, 2021 1:34:17 GMT -5
The leg Juuzou had hit the very first time he’d thrown a knife was beginning to give Zuko some trouble, but he couldn’t let it. He couldn’t go down, especially as he felt Ronan’s death like a crushing weight. He hadn’t… he hadn’t managed to listen to him, and there were so many things… so many things he didn’t understand. Ronan’s dying wish was for them to stop. Had either of them respected it? No… well, he expected that from Juuzou. From the boy who was just waiting for the right opportunity to kill them all… look at all the bodies. With one exception… with one exception it was all Juuzou. And Zuko had to avenge them. Tears burned at his eyes, but he didn’t have time for those. He needed… he needed to keep fighting. Needed to stay on his feet to tire Juuzou out. If he could keep him running, maybe? They could keep this going for a very long time. They were both skilled, and Zuko managed to duck down enough to evade Juuzou’s strike… why hadn’t Nico fought back? Of everyone he was the most skilled with a blade. He should have helped… he should have helped take down Juuzou. He shouldn’t have left Zuko alone, bearing the weight of the only people in the universe he cared about. Other than Iroh… and Iroh would never know that he had made the right decision. Iroh would never find out. Zuko glared at Juuzou, waiting for the attack, waiting for… ah. He positioned one sword to block the knife, knocking it out of the way with the dreadful clang of metal on metal, then launched himself forward to meet Juuzou halfway. He felt the force of Juuzou’s body smash into him, his swords moving quickly to slice at his leg, to try to incapacitate him and take him down. Perhaps it was stupid, not aiming for the heart. But he had trusted Juuzou, once. He had loved him, even… and he wanted to know why. He wanted Juuzou to look him in the eye and tell him why, exactly, he’d killed Zuko’s family. He was used to being the traitor, not the betrayed. And there, in the very back of his mind, was Uncle Iroh’s voice, telling him to try to find common ground with his enemies. Telling him that people… human people… they were allies. That he shouldn’t throw that away so easily… He just needed to get Juuzou down, unarmed. He could figure out what to do next later.
Wylan looked at Spook, a small smile spreading across his face as he nodded. He didn't much feel like smiling. The people he loved and cared about more than anything else in the world were dead, and he was holding hands with the enemy. But... if this worked, then he wouldn't have to mourn Spook, too. Then Spook wouldn't be the enemy at all. All they needed to do was avoid being noticed by Juuzou and Zuko. At least... at least it seemed like they were preoccupied, and Wylan had seen something shift in Zuko's expression when Varian and Ronan died. He hoped Zuko thought about it just a bit more. That way they wouldn't need to worry about Zuko using them as target practice. "Hold tight," he whispered, shifting his body so he faced the sky, letting his eyes close. He knew his chest was still rising and falling with his breath, but he tried to make it as shallow as possible. The only good thing about all of the blood was that some of it could easily be mistaken for theirs. All they needed to do was hold still. All they needed to do was survive. No mourners, no funerals. He would keep telling himself that until as many people as possible were out.
Hunter let out a grunt as Juuzou sped away from him. He was too preoccupied in his fight with Zuko. That above everything else made Hunter angry. It was like Juuzou was telling him he wasn’t worth his time. That wasn’t true. He… he was a threat. Hunter levied the knife, closing one eye as he did his best to aim at Juuzou. He oculd kill him even if he was in the middle of attacking. He let the knife fly, not caring if it didn’t hit its target. He just needed to get Juuzou’s attention. He just… Juuzou was the one he wanted to fight. Juuzou was the one who needed to die. Kenma hadn’t done anything. Juuzou was responsible for all of the blood coating the floor. He was the reason it was slippery and sticky and hard to walk on. Hunter felt his arm trembling as he began to approach Juuzou. “Face me!” he yelled, eyes going wide. “Just… just face me!”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 8, 2021 1:48:25 GMT -5
Juuzou was beginning to tire, slowly but surely. He wasn’t ready to collapse, he could keep fighting, he could keep going, but...but he was so tired. It wasn’t really a physical feeling. It was, probably, grief. He didn’t understand. He’d hated them when he’d killed them, he’d been convinced without a shadow of a doubt that they’d been enemies. So, why...why had he been wrong? He tried to push the thoughts away. The guilt beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach, the uneasy dread that came with knowing something was wrong and it might be your fault. He just...he just had to kill Zuko. Maybe that would fix it. Maybe everything would be okay somehow when he was dead. It was a poor excuse to his own ears. He hated Zuko, like he’d hated them all, but he knew killing him wouldn’t bring them back. He felt like killing him might make him feel better, somehow, but that was all. He needed to be stopped, because he was an enemy, but that was all it was, really. He was prepared to take him down. He didn’t know what would happen after that...he didn’t know and he didn’t want to know. The knife Hunter threw went past him. He dodged it, but he hadn’t really meant to. His reflexes were in overdrive now, he didn’t think he could be hit even if he had his eyes closed. This was a fight and he was going to win, that was all that mattered now. He ignored the shout. He had bigger things to take care of. He’d get to Hunter in a moment. He screamed as he met Zuko, and the sword cut deep gash in his leg. He pulled back, trying to speed away, but all he could do was limp backwards, trying to put distance between them. Distance...he had his knives. He could throw them from anywhere in the room. Closing the distance had been a mistake, he knew now. A deadly one. He threw a knife as hard as he could, pouring everything he was trying not to feel into the movement. Then he turned and tried to run, limping away as fast as he could.
Spook tried to smile back, but it wouldn’t come. He couldn’t make himself smile, not now...not when he was alone in a room of enemies, and all his friends were dead. But no, no that thought was wrong...because he knew Wylan wasn’t an enemy. He wasn’t sure he could stomach calling him a friend just now, but he could at least acknowledge that he’d once thought he was one. Even if none of those emotions were working here anymore. He lay down too, sprawling in what he hoped was a convincingly uncomfortable position, one he wouldn’t have taken naturally unless he’d fallen. It wouldn’t do to be in the exact same position as Wylan, after all...that would be immediately suspicious. Would they make it? He was still scared, he realized, under all the anger. He wasn’t at all ready to die, even if he was always in a position where he might. And he couldn’t even keep his eyes open to look for the danger...he hated this, and he was tempted to believe this was Wylan making him an easy target on purpose, but he stayed there anyway, trying hard to trust his friend. Trying to believe he wouldn’t die for it.
Kenma could tell it was ending. There weren’t a lot of heartbeats left. He was hurt, but he wasn’t as hurt as he had thought he was…his head was clearing. He could think again. He watched the fight carefully, one hand slipping back towards Nico’s body. There was another knife. He pulled it out carefully, then let out a small breath, trying to calm his nerves. He could do this. He had to be able to do this. It wouldn’t be hard. He just had to make it right. He lay down again and mostly closed his eyes. Like he had learned when he was little, as long as they didn’t see you close your eyes all the way, they couldn’t tell you weren’t. He positioned the knife under him, where it was hidden, but still free. And then…he waited.
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