Of course Elliott would try to inject himself at the worst fucking moment. Where was he at the start of all this? Things had already escalated and now he wanted to take the reins? Not a chance.
“Not now Elliott, I-!” Gabriela’s growl was cut short by movement from out of the corner of her eye. Her body shot to attention, pistol raised once again, aimed directly ahead. But there was no attack, not even any sudden moves. Hannah dragged herself out of the shadows as a formality, crossing the finish line in a race that had long since ended.
It was pathetic to look at. And to listen to.
Hannah asked her, said please, and Gabriela knew what was meant. Hannah wasn’t begging for her life, that wouldn’t make any sense, didn’t line up with how she looked or acted or how she seemingly couldn’t stand and could barely speak.
After all the bullshit, Gabriela had won out. She was right about the game, about Hannah’s chances, and Hannah’s plea was an admission to that fact. Wisdom was rewarded with a kill laid out before her, literally asking for it.
“Wha- uh wa…” Her mouth was dry as dull nonsense tumbled out of it.
Gabriela’s whole body locked up with the barrel of the gun pointed exactly where it should have been, where it needed to be. She told her hand that it needed to fire, and her hand replied with a distant numbness, a stillness she could not overpower.
The One Where You Are Crying And I Don't Do Anything At All
Morning following the fourth announcement, Private once more
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Catche Jagger
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RetroVenus
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Catche Jagger
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All at once,
A jolt.
Pressure applied to the trigger.
Gunshot.
A jolt.
Pressure applied to the trigger.
Gunshot.
A gunshot. A loud roar.
And it was then when she could not feel anything at all.
All the pain. All the desperation. Gone.
She was free. One way or another.
Perhaps death wasn't as scary as it seemed.
MM10, HANNAH CHOI: DECEASED
And it was then when she could not feel anything at all.
All the pain. All the desperation. Gone.
She was free. One way or another.
Perhaps death wasn't as scary as it seemed.
MM10, HANNAH CHOI: DECEASED
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RetroVenus
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And there it was; that deafeningly loud gunshot.
The bullet went between her eyes. Unlike with Carol, Elliott-Blair got to watch the bullet tear it's way through skin and muscle and bone. He could observe how the flesh rippled in it's wake, how blood and bits of brain matter flowed from the newly formed crater.
The force of the gunshot was enough to push her battered frame over, sending her sprawling onto the floor. There was still movement from her, spasms. The human body is hardwired to avoid death at any cost, and will fight to keep itself alive even if said fight is useless. Perhaps as a result of taking a bullet to the brain, the spasms swiftly ceased, and she was still.
Elliott-Blair took a step forward.
Blood continued to bubble up from the hole, joined occasionally by small chunks of flash and brain. Most rivers of blood ran down the sides of her head, but some flowed to the top, disappearing into her hair. Others flowed down her face, into her unblinking eyes, or further still onto her mouth, set with a smile.
A teal bandana was tied around her left arm.
She was smiling.
Elliott-Blair could feel bile rising up his throat. What a sick joke. Hannah was dead; she couldn't go home and do all the things she enjoyed, instead her fate was to rot here in some lonely corner of a cruise ship. Another nobody dead for the entertainment of the masses. What was there to be happy about?
Glancing down, he saw that she was wearing a teal bandana around her left arm. Another dead teammate. That's, what, four members of his team dead? Three at the hands of Gabriela.
All four died in different ways, what would he be like when his time—
No. He wasn't going to die. Gabriela would get the ten kills so that he could go home, then her team would win and she gets to go home. That's how it works, that's how this goddamn show works.
Elliott-Blair rolled the corpse over, then got to work removing the daypack and sorting its contents. Three down, seven to go.
Seven more times he'll be forced to confront his own mortality.
The bullet went between her eyes. Unlike with Carol, Elliott-Blair got to watch the bullet tear it's way through skin and muscle and bone. He could observe how the flesh rippled in it's wake, how blood and bits of brain matter flowed from the newly formed crater.
The force of the gunshot was enough to push her battered frame over, sending her sprawling onto the floor. There was still movement from her, spasms. The human body is hardwired to avoid death at any cost, and will fight to keep itself alive even if said fight is useless. Perhaps as a result of taking a bullet to the brain, the spasms swiftly ceased, and she was still.
Elliott-Blair took a step forward.
Blood continued to bubble up from the hole, joined occasionally by small chunks of flash and brain. Most rivers of blood ran down the sides of her head, but some flowed to the top, disappearing into her hair. Others flowed down her face, into her unblinking eyes, or further still onto her mouth, set with a smile.
A teal bandana was tied around her left arm.
She was smiling.
Elliott-Blair could feel bile rising up his throat. What a sick joke. Hannah was dead; she couldn't go home and do all the things she enjoyed, instead her fate was to rot here in some lonely corner of a cruise ship. Another nobody dead for the entertainment of the masses. What was there to be happy about?
Glancing down, he saw that she was wearing a teal bandana around her left arm. Another dead teammate. That's, what, four members of his team dead? Three at the hands of Gabriela.
All four died in different ways, what would he be like when his time—
No. He wasn't going to die. Gabriela would get the ten kills so that he could go home, then her team would win and she gets to go home. That's how it works, that's how this goddamn show works.
Elliott-Blair rolled the corpse over, then got to work removing the daypack and sorting its contents. Three down, seven to go.
Seven more times he'll be forced to confront his own mortality.
avatar by pan, sprite by the wonderful Yugikun
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Catche Jagger
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Failure laid sprawled out on the floor, it’s blood and brains leaking out across the cold metal, its lifeless sockets staring up at Gabriela, mocking her, knowing her.
And worst of all, it had the fuckimg gall to smile.
Elliott approached the corpse, seemingly deciding to examine it for himself. Well, it was about fucking time he decided to do something fuckimg useful. But he still looked like a little kid next to the thing, like he was about to faint or some shit.
Gabriela felt something boiling in her guts, a rage. It pointed itself towards Elliott, who could barely handle sitting pretty while she did all of the actual work, all of the actual killing.
She still remembered how he’d acted when they met on the first day, how he tried to manipulate her into this arrangement. Elliott didn’t care about her or what she was doing. Gabriela wasn’t his friend, she was his fucking tool.
She breathed in, swallowed, and the feeling spread out across her body, becoming something else entirely.
Gabriela’s posture slumped and her gaze fixed downward at her ruined sneakers.
“Sorry I locked up there.” She muttered, not sure that he heard her, not sure that she cared.
And worst of all, it had the fuckimg gall to smile.
Elliott approached the corpse, seemingly deciding to examine it for himself. Well, it was about fucking time he decided to do something fuckimg useful. But he still looked like a little kid next to the thing, like he was about to faint or some shit.
Gabriela felt something boiling in her guts, a rage. It pointed itself towards Elliott, who could barely handle sitting pretty while she did all of the actual work, all of the actual killing.
She still remembered how he’d acted when they met on the first day, how he tried to manipulate her into this arrangement. Elliott didn’t care about her or what she was doing. Gabriela wasn’t his friend, she was his fucking tool.
She breathed in, swallowed, and the feeling spread out across her body, becoming something else entirely.
Gabriela’s posture slumped and her gaze fixed downward at her ruined sneakers.
“Sorry I locked up there.” She muttered, not sure that he heard her, not sure that she cared.
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RetroVenus
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Gabriela muttered something to Elliott-Blair, and he gave a vague nod. He went through the motions of looting the corpse, almost like muscle memory; sort out what's useful, what isn't, pack up half of the useful pile, leave the other half to Gabriela.
There was a certain heaviness to his daypack, one that was noticeable when he first awakened on the flotilla. He could still move around with it, even run, but every bit of weight added slowed him down. His inhaler had enough dosage to last him a week, however the extra weight he carried would require more usage of it. And he's already used it twice.
At least he wouldn't starve.
Having finished packing away his half of the spoils, he turned to Gabriela, who was currently examining her rather tattered shoes. Though her posture was slumped, there was a certain tenseness to it, like she had just lost an argument and nothing could be done about it.
Was she mad at him? Or rather...
He glanced back at Hannah's corpse. At her taunting smile.
Well, whatever. Gabriela was always mad at something, and if it really was him they could sort it out. Or wait until she let's go of what offended her, whichever first.
Gabriela made no movement to leave just yet, so Elliott-Blair turned on his heels and made his way towards the nearest staircase. After that, she can decided on where to go, because she knew this game better than him. She always knew what to do.
((Elliott-Blair continued in The Paradox(es) of Heroism))
There was a certain heaviness to his daypack, one that was noticeable when he first awakened on the flotilla. He could still move around with it, even run, but every bit of weight added slowed him down. His inhaler had enough dosage to last him a week, however the extra weight he carried would require more usage of it. And he's already used it twice.
At least he wouldn't starve.
Having finished packing away his half of the spoils, he turned to Gabriela, who was currently examining her rather tattered shoes. Though her posture was slumped, there was a certain tenseness to it, like she had just lost an argument and nothing could be done about it.
Was she mad at him? Or rather...
He glanced back at Hannah's corpse. At her taunting smile.
Well, whatever. Gabriela was always mad at something, and if it really was him they could sort it out. Or wait until she let's go of what offended her, whichever first.
Gabriela made no movement to leave just yet, so Elliott-Blair turned on his heels and made his way towards the nearest staircase. After that, she can decided on where to go, because she knew this game better than him. She always knew what to do.
((Elliott-Blair continued in The Paradox(es) of Heroism))
avatar by pan, sprite by the wonderful Yugikun
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Catche Jagger
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Elliott didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t, probably couldn’t hear.
Still, Gabriela did nothing to clarify the situation, simply watching as Elliott did the work of collecting whatever goods Hannah had kept on her person. Then he just started away, saying nothing to her. Asshole.
Gabriela wanted to be stubborn, to root herself in place to force him to come back to her. That would fucking show him, get him to remember all that he fucking owed her with the work she was putting in. She was owed at least something for all that. Some fucking respect?
She should’ve been allowed to be a bit unreasonable. It was her that had just killed someone after all.
After a moment longer, she followed Elliott out.
((Gabriela continued elsewhere...))
Still, Gabriela did nothing to clarify the situation, simply watching as Elliott did the work of collecting whatever goods Hannah had kept on her person. Then he just started away, saying nothing to her. Asshole.
Gabriela wanted to be stubborn, to root herself in place to force him to come back to her. That would fucking show him, get him to remember all that he fucking owed her with the work she was putting in. She was owed at least something for all that. Some fucking respect?
She should’ve been allowed to be a bit unreasonable. It was her that had just killed someone after all.
After a moment longer, she followed Elliott out.
((Gabriela continued elsewhere...))
