ES10: AKENO KUDO CONTINUED FROM When Betting On High Card Pays Off
The tears didn’t come until she was alone.
It wasn’t that Akeno was ashamed to cry in front of others, though she wasn’t much of a crier to begin with, it was just that it wasn’t until she was away from everyone else that everything really had the chance to catch up with her. She’d managed to hold it together as she walked across the jetties leading away from the clipper ship by focusing her thoughts on where she was headed, but once she’d reached the yacht and sat down there was nothing left to distract her. The tears came easily after that.
Her grief was a quiet thing; no great sobs or overt displays of emotion. Akeno just sat slumped over a table in a dining room with a décor two decades out of date, head resting on crossed arms as she took deep, but shaky breaths. The yacht had a kind of quaint anachronism to it, bullet holes aside, which felt a little at odds with her current emotions, but since see couldn’t see any of it that fact didn’t bother her for the moment.
She stayed like that for a long time.
You Think You Know How the Game is Played, Until You’re in it
Private
((SB05 continued from We're Back In The Swamp))
When she entered the dining room where ES10 was busy being alone with her grief, her body language notably softened. It hadn't been particularly menacing or confident in the first place, but SB05, upon visually confirming the perhaps familiar source of the emotive breath, suffered the loss of yet more of her nonexistent game face, the ambition and drama exuding from her pores like a particularly rigorous facial treatment.
(Lucille had definitely seen Akeno this vulnerable before. Once, twice? Or like, definitevly infrequently enough that it still didn't seem like a familiar sight. It wasn't, like, so often that her friend showed that kind of deep and intimate frustration. Between the two of them Lucille was definitely the one more likely to be accused by some creep of PMSing, obviously, but Akeno was a badass specifically because she didn't feel the need to pretend stuff like this exact moment playing out before Lucille's eyes in kinda not particularly high-definition didn't happen. No need for excuses, this was just happening. It was a thing, and Lucille was a friend, and)
honestly- and she felt a bit tangentially guilty for this one- she felt admittedly more comfortable in this particular moment in time than she had for like... everything, so far. More or less? Maybe she hadn't been this aware of what she had to do since she'd first woken up and like, done that whole cool thing with the picking through her bag and inspecting her assigned gear (before losing the most singularly important piece of it to some femme cat boy idiot). She wasn't trying to make a TV moment out of Akeno! Lucille had always hated these quieter moments when actually watching. Like, she obviously hadn't cared about the emoting of the random backdrop characters who were going to inevitably get killed a couple of days in. Just as obviously as she obviously cared about Akeno now.
(SB05 announced herself gently. Even waved, even though ES10 wouldn't be looking her way at quite that precise moment. She had her hands up, open palms. Doing her best to not pose a threat, as she took a seat at the table closest to her friend from school and proffered a hand. For the shoulder, hand-in-hand. It could have still, of course, ended with that hand shaped like a fist and knuckles scraping bone)
"Who was it? Akeno."
Bit presumptive, but Lucille knew how these things went down. She allegedly had sixty-some plus lifetimes worth of experience.
When she entered the dining room where ES10 was busy being alone with her grief, her body language notably softened. It hadn't been particularly menacing or confident in the first place, but SB05, upon visually confirming the perhaps familiar source of the emotive breath, suffered the loss of yet more of her nonexistent game face, the ambition and drama exuding from her pores like a particularly rigorous facial treatment.
(Lucille had definitely seen Akeno this vulnerable before. Once, twice? Or like, definitevly infrequently enough that it still didn't seem like a familiar sight. It wasn't, like, so often that her friend showed that kind of deep and intimate frustration. Between the two of them Lucille was definitely the one more likely to be accused by some creep of PMSing, obviously, but Akeno was a badass specifically because she didn't feel the need to pretend stuff like this exact moment playing out before Lucille's eyes in kinda not particularly high-definition didn't happen. No need for excuses, this was just happening. It was a thing, and Lucille was a friend, and)
honestly- and she felt a bit tangentially guilty for this one- she felt admittedly more comfortable in this particular moment in time than she had for like... everything, so far. More or less? Maybe she hadn't been this aware of what she had to do since she'd first woken up and like, done that whole cool thing with the picking through her bag and inspecting her assigned gear (before losing the most singularly important piece of it to some femme cat boy idiot). She wasn't trying to make a TV moment out of Akeno! Lucille had always hated these quieter moments when actually watching. Like, she obviously hadn't cared about the emoting of the random backdrop characters who were going to inevitably get killed a couple of days in. Just as obviously as she obviously cared about Akeno now.
(SB05 announced herself gently. Even waved, even though ES10 wouldn't be looking her way at quite that precise moment. She had her hands up, open palms. Doing her best to not pose a threat, as she took a seat at the table closest to her friend from school and proffered a hand. For the shoulder, hand-in-hand. It could have still, of course, ended with that hand shaped like a fist and knuckles scraping bone)
"Who was it? Akeno."
Bit presumptive, but Lucille knew how these things went down. She allegedly had sixty-some plus lifetimes worth of experience.
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Akeno’s head snapped up, body pulling taut as she heard the voice suddenly sounding out from only a few feet away. The tension lasted barely a moment and she slouched back in her seat once she recognised the familiar face.
It was a bitter sweet thing to find out Lucille was here as well; more bitter than sweet really. Her friend’s name had been absent from all of the announcements so far, which had allowed Akeno to wonder if maybe she was still at home, watching the season from the safety of her couch; forever pissed about missing her one chance to be on SOTF. She hadn’t missed out though and Akeno was just a little bit glad that she was here right now.
Shame about her colour scheme though.
As Akeno was thinking about pink t-shirts and black armbands Lucille approached the table, moving out of sight as she passed behind her, before taking the seat next to her. Akeno looked at the hand that was extended conspicuously in her direction and after a moment’s pause straightened out her arm and slid it over the table until she bumped elbows with Lucille. Their hands lay next to each other, not quite brushing but close enough that contact could be made if either of them moved even a little; not accepting the invitation but instead offering another invitation in response.
With her other hand she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes in the process.
“Jasper.” The name came out in a croak, a light hoarseness to her voice. “I let him die.”
It was a bitter sweet thing to find out Lucille was here as well; more bitter than sweet really. Her friend’s name had been absent from all of the announcements so far, which had allowed Akeno to wonder if maybe she was still at home, watching the season from the safety of her couch; forever pissed about missing her one chance to be on SOTF. She hadn’t missed out though and Akeno was just a little bit glad that she was here right now.
Shame about her colour scheme though.
As Akeno was thinking about pink t-shirts and black armbands Lucille approached the table, moving out of sight as she passed behind her, before taking the seat next to her. Akeno looked at the hand that was extended conspicuously in her direction and after a moment’s pause straightened out her arm and slid it over the table until she bumped elbows with Lucille. Their hands lay next to each other, not quite brushing but close enough that contact could be made if either of them moved even a little; not accepting the invitation but instead offering another invitation in response.
With her other hand she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes in the process.
“Jasper.” The name came out in a croak, a light hoarseness to her voice. “I let him die.”
Invitation instantly accepted. The fuck did you think Lucille'd do, bitch? Never a wrong time to steal some of that sweet body heat. No homo. Unless it was Bethany, in which case all the homo.
(A passable ship bait moment, for the most zealous of fanfic writers, drawers, animators. SB05 wasn't shy about the gregariousness of her affections, so the gesture had that element of grabby theatricality, at the very least. Fingers met with maximal surface area and tension)
Akeno sounded terrible. Not, like, absolutely so. No disproportionate hysterics, it looked like.
Well... what was supposed to be the correct proportion of completely losing your shit? When you watched a friend die?
(Pronounced dead May 18th, 2015, 3:46 PM at Memorial Regional Hospital)
"Oh my god. Akeno."
(Her grip tautened a bit. The shape, the form, of a stressball)
Lucille didn't know, in a way she was feeling that deep pit of sympathy pain, with all the gravity and drag of the Earth itself trying to sink her into the crust... wherever that metaphor had come from. See, consciously, she also at least sort of understood that both girls in this awkwardly Gatsby scene dressing room understood that people died on this show. That was the way it worked, the pain was just another bit of coding for the screen NPCs as they waddled around to become kill statistics and podcast blurbs. They both knew it, but they could still... feel it, too. The sting of the loss, and sting wasn't the right word because it was too few syllables and not strong enough to describe... this. The gnaw on Lucille's brain, the chill nesting in her spine. Stronger feeling than she imagined it to be when she'd gamed out how she'd have reacted if a friend had died while she'd been going for the win.
She hadn't known Jasper that well? In a way he'd been too cool for her to handle. She'd always wondered if Akeno x Jasper might have been a possibility, but just as like, an idle thought kind of thing. She wasn't a nosy creep like that, otherwise.
"... I guess I can't imagine that it could possibly be your fault. You're both too good for that. Ideal contestants, in a way. I dunno."
(A passable ship bait moment, for the most zealous of fanfic writers, drawers, animators. SB05 wasn't shy about the gregariousness of her affections, so the gesture had that element of grabby theatricality, at the very least. Fingers met with maximal surface area and tension)
Akeno sounded terrible. Not, like, absolutely so. No disproportionate hysterics, it looked like.
Well... what was supposed to be the correct proportion of completely losing your shit? When you watched a friend die?
(Pronounced dead May 18th, 2015, 3:46 PM at Memorial Regional Hospital)
"Oh my god. Akeno."
(Her grip tautened a bit. The shape, the form, of a stressball)
Lucille didn't know, in a way she was feeling that deep pit of sympathy pain, with all the gravity and drag of the Earth itself trying to sink her into the crust... wherever that metaphor had come from. See, consciously, she also at least sort of understood that both girls in this awkwardly Gatsby scene dressing room understood that people died on this show. That was the way it worked, the pain was just another bit of coding for the screen NPCs as they waddled around to become kill statistics and podcast blurbs. They both knew it, but they could still... feel it, too. The sting of the loss, and sting wasn't the right word because it was too few syllables and not strong enough to describe... this. The gnaw on Lucille's brain, the chill nesting in her spine. Stronger feeling than she imagined it to be when she'd gamed out how she'd have reacted if a friend had died while she'd been going for the win.
She hadn't known Jasper that well? In a way he'd been too cool for her to handle. She'd always wondered if Akeno x Jasper might have been a possibility, but just as like, an idle thought kind of thing. She wasn't a nosy creep like that, otherwise.
"... I guess I can't imagine that it could possibly be your fault. You're both too good for that. Ideal contestants, in a way. I dunno."
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Lucille’s hand felt warm in hers, even through the cheap fingerless costume gloves she was wearing, and it was enough to put the glimmer of a smile on her face, short lived as it was.
It wasn’t the first time they’d ever held hands like this, despite the fact Akeno wasn’t usually the type to be that intimately physical with anyone; that was the good thing about being friends with Lucille though, she had no filters for that kind of thing whereas Akeno was a lot more reserved, or maybe just uninterested, most of the time. The more effusive girl made moves where Akeno might hesitate; something about the way she was raised maybe, where she’d learned to stop expecting such moments. Accepting it when given was something she could do however and Lucille had gotten good at recognising when Akeno needed something like this without her having to ask, even if she sometimes felt bad for making others do all the heavy lifting in those areas.
After a moment it occurred to Akeno that this was the first bodily contact she’d made with someone since the game started that didn’t have violent intent behind it. She closed her fingers tighter over the warm hand.
Akeno let out a shaky breath at the damning praise her friend was giving her; the misplaced faith. Ideal contestants. She’d thought much the same thing before the game started, still did really; Jasper was strong, so was she, so was Lucille. Right now that endorsement felt more like a recrimination than anything, though she was sure it wasn’t meant that way.
“You’re right; there’s no way Jasper and I could lose a fight like that. If we worked together we would have won.” That implicit assumption that Akeno was there with Jasper, fighting alongside him, so there must not have been anything more she could have done. Where else would she be? Lucille hadn’t considered any other option.
She clenched her unoccupied hand into a fist as more tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.
“He wasn’t on my team though, so I… didn’t help.” Akeno kept a steady grip on to her friend’s hand, as if afraid the admission would be enough to make her let go. “I just… stood there and watched… and hoped he would win by himself. He almost did.”
Jasper stood victorious over three people who had tried to kill him. He cast his eyes about the deck looking for something and if his eyes hadn’t found hers then things would be a lot different.
“And then he didn’t.”
The moment’s distraction was all it took for the broken shard of glass to find his neck. His last word was a whisper that she was dearly hoping she was misinterpreting, because she really didn’t deserve it if she was right.
The moisture in her eyes brimmed over and a single, dramatically appropriate tear rolled down her cheek.
“Because of me.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d ever held hands like this, despite the fact Akeno wasn’t usually the type to be that intimately physical with anyone; that was the good thing about being friends with Lucille though, she had no filters for that kind of thing whereas Akeno was a lot more reserved, or maybe just uninterested, most of the time. The more effusive girl made moves where Akeno might hesitate; something about the way she was raised maybe, where she’d learned to stop expecting such moments. Accepting it when given was something she could do however and Lucille had gotten good at recognising when Akeno needed something like this without her having to ask, even if she sometimes felt bad for making others do all the heavy lifting in those areas.
After a moment it occurred to Akeno that this was the first bodily contact she’d made with someone since the game started that didn’t have violent intent behind it. She closed her fingers tighter over the warm hand.
Akeno let out a shaky breath at the damning praise her friend was giving her; the misplaced faith. Ideal contestants. She’d thought much the same thing before the game started, still did really; Jasper was strong, so was she, so was Lucille. Right now that endorsement felt more like a recrimination than anything, though she was sure it wasn’t meant that way.
“You’re right; there’s no way Jasper and I could lose a fight like that. If we worked together we would have won.” That implicit assumption that Akeno was there with Jasper, fighting alongside him, so there must not have been anything more she could have done. Where else would she be? Lucille hadn’t considered any other option.
She clenched her unoccupied hand into a fist as more tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.
“He wasn’t on my team though, so I… didn’t help.” Akeno kept a steady grip on to her friend’s hand, as if afraid the admission would be enough to make her let go. “I just… stood there and watched… and hoped he would win by himself. He almost did.”
Jasper stood victorious over three people who had tried to kill him. He cast his eyes about the deck looking for something and if his eyes hadn’t found hers then things would be a lot different.
“And then he didn’t.”
The moment’s distraction was all it took for the broken shard of glass to find his neck. His last word was a whisper that she was dearly hoping she was misinterpreting, because she really didn’t deserve it if she was right.
The moisture in her eyes brimmed over and a single, dramatically appropriate tear rolled down her cheek.
“Because of me.”
Well that was how it worked.
(Honestly even the whole teams gimmick was a strategic misstep to play into... allegedly? Supposedly. The Lucille watching Akeno on the big screen with @hautelemode open on a tab of the phone in her hand would have in no way been troubled by the revelations that Akeno had watched a friend die. Akeno the character, the familiar face in a familiarly boring outfit. Akeno the bundle of statistics, the blurb written up by her mentor that'd be passably funny)
SB05 looked nauseous. Subtly, but clearly, the green of her gills communicated by the reticence of her eyes.
"I... would have done the same thing. It's complicated. We both know that."
(Lucille listened to herself in the third person)
"I mean, I don't know what to say. I can't believe he's gone."
She ran a thumb over the bony back of Akeno's hand, the side inverse to her palm, flesh tracing a small rut in the red.
(Shitty, cheap-ass fabric. Has to be part of her fanservice costume)
"But it's not your fault. It's kind of just... you know. How TV works, I guess."
She shrugged, half of half-heartedly.
"No one can blame you. No one we've ever cared about the opinions of, at any rate... y'know?"
(Honestly even the whole teams gimmick was a strategic misstep to play into... allegedly? Supposedly. The Lucille watching Akeno on the big screen with @hautelemode open on a tab of the phone in her hand would have in no way been troubled by the revelations that Akeno had watched a friend die. Akeno the character, the familiar face in a familiarly boring outfit. Akeno the bundle of statistics, the blurb written up by her mentor that'd be passably funny)
SB05 looked nauseous. Subtly, but clearly, the green of her gills communicated by the reticence of her eyes.
"I... would have done the same thing. It's complicated. We both know that."
(Lucille listened to herself in the third person)
"I mean, I don't know what to say. I can't believe he's gone."
She ran a thumb over the bony back of Akeno's hand, the side inverse to her palm, flesh tracing a small rut in the red.
(Shitty, cheap-ass fabric. Has to be part of her fanservice costume)
"But it's not your fault. It's kind of just... you know. How TV works, I guess."
She shrugged, half of half-heartedly.
"No one can blame you. No one we've ever cared about the opinions of, at any rate... y'know?"
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“I blame me.”
The words came out in a thin whisper, but in the quiet of the room with just the two of them in it, they were still audible.
“It is my fault.”
She had a feeling that Lucille thought so too; or at least that her friend wasn’t as understanding about this as she claimed to be.
There had been the slightest amount of hesitation before Lucille had answered, which have could have meant anything really; good or bad. What Akeno had just admitted to was pretty heavy after all so it was understandable if it took some time to properly digest. It didn’t have to mean anything.
It probably did though.
If she turned to look her friend in the eyes she might have been able to find out for sure. She didn’t.
Akeno chose instead to believe she was reading too much into things. That she was only imagining it because it was what she was expecting to hear, after her admission. She wasn’t someone who usually picked up on those kinds of subtle cues anyway; not verbal ones anyway. The only reason she did this time was because she was listening for them.
Their hands were still joined; Lucille hadn’t let go yet, instead running a thumb over the back of her hand, just below the knuckles. Akeno took that as a good sign.
“Maybe that’s how TV works; maybe it was the right thing to do, if all I cared about was winning. But I still chose to put winning over… every other thing that matters. Over Jasper’s life. I did that.” Her voice was a little bit stronger now, gaining strength with each word. Still hoarse, still wavering, but building in anger towards herself with each syllable.
Akeno glared at the table in between her hands, like it had personally affronted her. “And I regret it.”
The words came out in a thin whisper, but in the quiet of the room with just the two of them in it, they were still audible.
“It is my fault.”
She had a feeling that Lucille thought so too; or at least that her friend wasn’t as understanding about this as she claimed to be.
There had been the slightest amount of hesitation before Lucille had answered, which have could have meant anything really; good or bad. What Akeno had just admitted to was pretty heavy after all so it was understandable if it took some time to properly digest. It didn’t have to mean anything.
It probably did though.
If she turned to look her friend in the eyes she might have been able to find out for sure. She didn’t.
Akeno chose instead to believe she was reading too much into things. That she was only imagining it because it was what she was expecting to hear, after her admission. She wasn’t someone who usually picked up on those kinds of subtle cues anyway; not verbal ones anyway. The only reason she did this time was because she was listening for them.
Their hands were still joined; Lucille hadn’t let go yet, instead running a thumb over the back of her hand, just below the knuckles. Akeno took that as a good sign.
“Maybe that’s how TV works; maybe it was the right thing to do, if all I cared about was winning. But I still chose to put winning over… every other thing that matters. Over Jasper’s life. I did that.” Her voice was a little bit stronger now, gaining strength with each word. Still hoarse, still wavering, but building in anger towards herself with each syllable.
Akeno glared at the table in between her hands, like it had personally affronted her. “And I regret it.”
Lucille wondered if this was one of those cases where the other person she was talking to was already assuming Lucille was hating on them quietly more than she actually was? Nah, she was, like, open and forthcoming about when she thought something was shitty, she liked to think. Talking behind someone's back was probably a thing she did because she talked shit, y'know, but it wasn't like she intended it to be any sort of backstabbing? Never had been. She was like, too cool to really dislike people. Even folks like Anthony, they were annoying sure, but it wasn't like they ruined her life or anything.
Like, somewhere in Akeno's head Lucille bet that Akeno thought that 'does Lucille really understand me here'? And Lucille really didn't, sure, but because she literally wasn't sure what was going on?
She'd always thought that guilt was one of those things that happened to people that weren't her. It was like, sure, someone could feel sorry for the consequences of their actions? But the actions had still happened. She'd always been leery of folks on SOTF who got emotional about what they chose to do, because they were hypocrites and, even more importantly, because it accomplished nothing? The emotes were real and valid, but who were they even for?
(SB05 sighed, and kept looking for Akeno's MIA eyes)
("What would you do, if you could do it again?")
Lucille glared at the table as well. Bit of solidarity there, at least.
("Like, if the Akeno from that timeline also ended up dying, would she forgive you for what you'd done instead? Kinda weird hypothetical, but...")
(The tenor of her voice was just casual enough that she could have been abducted for the season all over again and have been just as surprised the second time around)
RIP in peace, Jasper. If he'd been here he probably would have kicked both girls asses' for sitting around like this.
("This doesn't change my opinion about you, by the way. You're not getting rid of me that easy.")
But realistically speaking, without a gun, without the actual nerve to act? It would be pretty easy for whoever chose to do it, probably.
Like, somewhere in Akeno's head Lucille bet that Akeno thought that 'does Lucille really understand me here'? And Lucille really didn't, sure, but because she literally wasn't sure what was going on?
She'd always thought that guilt was one of those things that happened to people that weren't her. It was like, sure, someone could feel sorry for the consequences of their actions? But the actions had still happened. She'd always been leery of folks on SOTF who got emotional about what they chose to do, because they were hypocrites and, even more importantly, because it accomplished nothing? The emotes were real and valid, but who were they even for?
(SB05 sighed, and kept looking for Akeno's MIA eyes)
("What would you do, if you could do it again?")
Lucille glared at the table as well. Bit of solidarity there, at least.
("Like, if the Akeno from that timeline also ended up dying, would she forgive you for what you'd done instead? Kinda weird hypothetical, but...")
(The tenor of her voice was just casual enough that she could have been abducted for the season all over again and have been just as surprised the second time around)
RIP in peace, Jasper. If he'd been here he probably would have kicked both girls asses' for sitting around like this.
("This doesn't change my opinion about you, by the way. You're not getting rid of me that easy.")
But realistically speaking, without a gun, without the actual nerve to act? It would be pretty easy for whoever chose to do it, probably.
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The ghost of a smile flit across Akeno’s face. Yeah, of course she wouldn’t get rid of Lucille that easily; when had the girl ever done anything quietly? This wouldn’t be any different. Still, Akeno hadn’t thought she’d been that obvious with her worries; then again, guile was never her strong suit. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Lucille was better at reading her than the other way around.
“I know.” She gave Lucille’s hand a little squeeze. “Thank you.”
There was a pause as Akeno considered how to word the rest of it. The questions Lucille had given her weren’t easy ones, so she wanted to give them the thought they deserved. “If it happens again I’ll fight.”
Not if she had another chance, but if it happened again; it was an important distinction. Akeno had other friends, there would be other fights and she could very well find herself in the same position days or hours or minutes from now. She knew what to do the next time.
“If I died I think she would understand… if she died I would… whatever.” Akeno shook her head before she could tie herself in knots wondering which pronouns she should use. “It’s not like I’m prepared to die or anything, I’m not, but there’s always going to be a risk right? I won’t let that risk stop me from acting. The other me would understand why I did it; I’m more surprised that I didn’t do it this time.”
She’d frozen. That was the answer she’d eventually come to, for why she’d just stood there like an idiot. Akeno didn’t know what do to, help or leave, so she’d done neither. Before all this started, when she’d been sitting there watching Emmy cry and apologise Akeno had wondered if or when she would freeze up. If it was going to happen, she thought, it would be during her first fight, or failing that when she was about to get first kill; she’d cleared both of those hurdles early on though and thought that was it.
That it would happen the first time she would see someone she cared about in danger wasn’t something she ever expected. How disappointing that was.
“It’s… I think it’s about more than just surviving here, it’s about being able to live with yourself afterwards, you know? I came to terms with the fact I’d have to kill people to go home, but I never thought about letting someone else die.”
The latter should have been the easier of the two, she thought. But then, she always did regret the things she didn’t do more than the things she did. “I killed someone yesterday, but I feel worse about not being there for Jasper than I do about that.”
“I know.” She gave Lucille’s hand a little squeeze. “Thank you.”
There was a pause as Akeno considered how to word the rest of it. The questions Lucille had given her weren’t easy ones, so she wanted to give them the thought they deserved. “If it happens again I’ll fight.”
Not if she had another chance, but if it happened again; it was an important distinction. Akeno had other friends, there would be other fights and she could very well find herself in the same position days or hours or minutes from now. She knew what to do the next time.
“If I died I think she would understand… if she died I would… whatever.” Akeno shook her head before she could tie herself in knots wondering which pronouns she should use. “It’s not like I’m prepared to die or anything, I’m not, but there’s always going to be a risk right? I won’t let that risk stop me from acting. The other me would understand why I did it; I’m more surprised that I didn’t do it this time.”
She’d frozen. That was the answer she’d eventually come to, for why she’d just stood there like an idiot. Akeno didn’t know what do to, help or leave, so she’d done neither. Before all this started, when she’d been sitting there watching Emmy cry and apologise Akeno had wondered if or when she would freeze up. If it was going to happen, she thought, it would be during her first fight, or failing that when she was about to get first kill; she’d cleared both of those hurdles early on though and thought that was it.
That it would happen the first time she would see someone she cared about in danger wasn’t something she ever expected. How disappointing that was.
“It’s… I think it’s about more than just surviving here, it’s about being able to live with yourself afterwards, you know? I came to terms with the fact I’d have to kill people to go home, but I never thought about letting someone else die.”
The latter should have been the easier of the two, she thought. But then, she always did regret the things she didn’t do more than the things she did. “I killed someone yesterday, but I feel worse about not being there for Jasper than I do about that.”
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The Honeless Beard
- Posts: 893
- Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2018 4:47 am
- Location: Got it? Good, now get inside.
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
((From here))
"Sounds like semantics," Ivan said.
He was just outside the dining room door. Voices - both sounded vaguely feminine to his busted hearing - wafting through the floorboards as he had crouched in the shadow of the Yacht's cabin, wringing out his white tank for the second time today. Now he held it to his side, a wet rolled up bunch of fabric, leaving him shirtless.
His bruises around his ribs and chest were blackening, spreading to a larger area, and his breath rattled in his lungs. On his left side, an oval of red and yellow popped against the bruising, matching the curve of his ribcage. As always, the F stood prominently, proudly in the center of his forehead.
"It's good to see so many people on our happy little fleet fully embracing what pieces of shit we all are."
Head nod to Lucille.
"Nice to see you again. Ditch the psycho?"
"Sounds like semantics," Ivan said.
He was just outside the dining room door. Voices - both sounded vaguely feminine to his busted hearing - wafting through the floorboards as he had crouched in the shadow of the Yacht's cabin, wringing out his white tank for the second time today. Now he held it to his side, a wet rolled up bunch of fabric, leaving him shirtless.
His bruises around his ribs and chest were blackening, spreading to a larger area, and his breath rattled in his lungs. On his left side, an oval of red and yellow popped against the bruising, matching the curve of his ribcage. As always, the F stood prominently, proudly in the center of his forehead.
"It's good to see so many people on our happy little fleet fully embracing what pieces of shit we all are."
Head nod to Lucille.
"Nice to see you again. Ditch the psycho?"
(SB05 had smirked a bit, finding some levity in Akeno's tripping over describing her hypothetical meeting with herself)
Akeno's frozen pause, tacked right there in the middle of her thinking emoji time... well like, the unironic version of that emoji. If it existed. Lucille felt pretty damn good. Lightest she'd felt in a while, in that sort of way where someone could somehow not notice they hadn't been breathing until taking a breath in a hot minute. Wasn't something like that happening cool? Weird? Happened to Lucille so infrequently, she guessed. Like, she hadn't noticed how shit she'd been feeling for... hm. She didn't know how long. Maybe she'd been okay up until Anthony had gone off being... Anthony-like. Or maybe it had been earlier, when Sylvain had attacked her? That one made sense, but, in theory wasn't Lucille supposed to be okay with being attacked? Whole point of the show, right?
There was always the potential that Lucille had been unhappy since time even more immemorial. Maybe Lucille hadn't liked what Sofia had been wearing all along and it'd killed the mood. Or maybe it was even earlier since that Lucille had been nursing an unknown contagion of discontent, but like... she didn't know if she was comfortable thinking that could be true? Like whoops, there her mood would promptly go, sliding south again as she tried to do self-analysis she was so totally not qualified to pull off.
("Yeah, I think that's it, isn't it? Even if you're ready to kill and to watch people die, it's like... you're not really ready, you know? I wonder if like, the survivors like Steph or Jewel get desensitized to it enough over time and that's why they can never really say just how big a jump it is the first time.")
Also, feeling a bit guilty here. Lucille wasn't purposely trying to commodify a good friends time and indirectly make it a moment for the self.
("It's been happening to me too. Here we think I'm going to go and make a big play for victory, like, that's what I've been saying all along. But it's like, living with myself afterwards. Somehow that's tripping me up. I dunno, I guess-")
(SB05's spiel promptly interrupted)
... Shit, she'd never noticed how nasty that letter they'd carved into Ivan looked. Gross, pustule-y. In general he looked like shit, because now he had no shirt and she could see the rest of the damage done...
(SB05 was quiet for a long moment. Staring as if she couldn't look away, up until she looked away right when trying to actually speak to him. A little glance, drifting along the long ways to the left, observing her environment with no alertness)
("Even if Anthony somehow turned it around and stopped being a hypocrite I still wouldn't hang with him? Like, dude. Someone who is annoying is annoying period. Whether they're pro or anti SOTF, if they have a change of heart, doesn't matter. They're still an annoying shit either way.")
Akeno's frozen pause, tacked right there in the middle of her thinking emoji time... well like, the unironic version of that emoji. If it existed. Lucille felt pretty damn good. Lightest she'd felt in a while, in that sort of way where someone could somehow not notice they hadn't been breathing until taking a breath in a hot minute. Wasn't something like that happening cool? Weird? Happened to Lucille so infrequently, she guessed. Like, she hadn't noticed how shit she'd been feeling for... hm. She didn't know how long. Maybe she'd been okay up until Anthony had gone off being... Anthony-like. Or maybe it had been earlier, when Sylvain had attacked her? That one made sense, but, in theory wasn't Lucille supposed to be okay with being attacked? Whole point of the show, right?
There was always the potential that Lucille had been unhappy since time even more immemorial. Maybe Lucille hadn't liked what Sofia had been wearing all along and it'd killed the mood. Or maybe it was even earlier since that Lucille had been nursing an unknown contagion of discontent, but like... she didn't know if she was comfortable thinking that could be true? Like whoops, there her mood would promptly go, sliding south again as she tried to do self-analysis she was so totally not qualified to pull off.
("Yeah, I think that's it, isn't it? Even if you're ready to kill and to watch people die, it's like... you're not really ready, you know? I wonder if like, the survivors like Steph or Jewel get desensitized to it enough over time and that's why they can never really say just how big a jump it is the first time.")
Also, feeling a bit guilty here. Lucille wasn't purposely trying to commodify a good friends time and indirectly make it a moment for the self.
("It's been happening to me too. Here we think I'm going to go and make a big play for victory, like, that's what I've been saying all along. But it's like, living with myself afterwards. Somehow that's tripping me up. I dunno, I guess-")
(SB05's spiel promptly interrupted)
... Shit, she'd never noticed how nasty that letter they'd carved into Ivan looked. Gross, pustule-y. In general he looked like shit, because now he had no shirt and she could see the rest of the damage done...
(SB05 was quiet for a long moment. Staring as if she couldn't look away, up until she looked away right when trying to actually speak to him. A little glance, drifting along the long ways to the left, observing her environment with no alertness)
("Even if Anthony somehow turned it around and stopped being a hypocrite I still wouldn't hang with him? Like, dude. Someone who is annoying is annoying period. Whether they're pro or anti SOTF, if they have a change of heart, doesn't matter. They're still an annoying shit either way.")
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Akeno nodded along as Lucille spoke, not out of agreement necessarily but to show that she was listening.
They’d both had the same doubts then, despite the fact they’d both talked a good game before all of this, they’d had the same lingering doubts in themselves. Back home the two of them felt like they were prepared for this show to an extent, better than most anyway, but all the conversations they’d had while watching old seasons in Lucille’s living room hadn’t helped; there was no way any of that could actually prepare them for the reality. She’d had so many of her assumptions challenged in just the one day so far.
From the start Akeno had tried to face her doubts head on, forced herself to commit to her plan early on just to see if she could really do it. As a result she had one kill and less guilt than she’d anticipated. Lucille had evidentially not had the same experience and from the sounds of it had ended up where Akeno would have had she not been able to finish off Maxine.
It was her turn to run a thumb over the back of her friend’s hand as she spoke, her turn to give encouragement. Before she could say anything they were interrupted.
Ivan looked terrible. Frankly that was an understatement, Ivan looked like he’d been chewed up and spit out multiple times over and she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone who was more bruise than person like he was.
Even if she hadn’t noticed that someone had carved a letter into his forehead, she could have guessed that whoever did that to him was more interested in causing as much pain as possible instead of killing him. Or before killing him.
“You look like hell. What happened?” Or who had happened, in this case. Akeno thought she might already knew the answer; there was only one person she could think of who would be egotistical enough to brand their initial on someone after doing all that to them, after all.
Fucking Fisk.
They’d both had the same doubts then, despite the fact they’d both talked a good game before all of this, they’d had the same lingering doubts in themselves. Back home the two of them felt like they were prepared for this show to an extent, better than most anyway, but all the conversations they’d had while watching old seasons in Lucille’s living room hadn’t helped; there was no way any of that could actually prepare them for the reality. She’d had so many of her assumptions challenged in just the one day so far.
From the start Akeno had tried to face her doubts head on, forced herself to commit to her plan early on just to see if she could really do it. As a result she had one kill and less guilt than she’d anticipated. Lucille had evidentially not had the same experience and from the sounds of it had ended up where Akeno would have had she not been able to finish off Maxine.
It was her turn to run a thumb over the back of her friend’s hand as she spoke, her turn to give encouragement. Before she could say anything they were interrupted.
Ivan looked terrible. Frankly that was an understatement, Ivan looked like he’d been chewed up and spit out multiple times over and she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone who was more bruise than person like he was.
Even if she hadn’t noticed that someone had carved a letter into his forehead, she could have guessed that whoever did that to him was more interested in causing as much pain as possible instead of killing him. Or before killing him.
“You look like hell. What happened?” Or who had happened, in this case. Akeno thought she might already knew the answer; there was only one person she could think of who would be egotistical enough to brand their initial on someone after doing all that to them, after all.
Fucking Fisk.
-
The Honeless Beard
- Posts: 893
- Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2018 4:47 am
- Location: Got it? Good, now get inside.
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
"Fucking Fisk," was Ivan's reply, followed up by a one-shouldered shrug that made him wince and lean in the opposite direction, curling over his ribs. The movements were jerky, accompanied by a soft exhalation that forced itself from his throat. Lucille's words slid over him, his stare on neither girl, somewhere in between them with his left eye floating from the extremes of his vision and back to the center.
"It is what it is. I'm not going to get better. Either of you guys seen Alaska or people with bags on their heads? I've got a simple goal and a lack of time."
With the way his hands were throttling his shirt, it wasn't hard to discern what that goal would be.
"It is what it is. I'm not going to get better. Either of you guys seen Alaska or people with bags on their heads? I've got a simple goal and a lack of time."
With the way his hands were throttling his shirt, it wasn't hard to discern what that goal would be.
("You got names, for those people with bag heads? ... Actually, what did Alaska do?")
She'd appreciated Akeno, with the whole non-verbal encouragement thing. Lucille didn't know specifically, it was like, typically when conversations happened with friends half of them were in forms completely unspoken so they didn't register in the memory the same way. Shadows of them did- the feelings, the emotions, not the actual actions themselves.
Lucille felt better, really did, still did. But she was still, somehow, dreading something. And more importantly, she realized she always had been.
(SB05 also stopped working all too much with eye contact. Somewhere on the horizon of a small room with poor window lighting, someone apparently waited for her)
She'd appreciated Akeno, with the whole non-verbal encouragement thing. Lucille didn't know specifically, it was like, typically when conversations happened with friends half of them were in forms completely unspoken so they didn't register in the memory the same way. Shadows of them did- the feelings, the emotions, not the actual actions themselves.
Lucille felt better, really did, still did. But she was still, somehow, dreading something. And more importantly, she realized she always had been.
(SB05 also stopped working all too much with eye contact. Somewhere on the horizon of a small room with poor window lighting, someone apparently waited for her)
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
“Fisk, James, a girl whose name I don’t know. Maybe Vasily too.” Whoever had been firing that gun had to have been on their side after all and Vasily and Fisk had worked together to kill someone earlier, so it made sense for him to be the one responsible. She hoped he wasn’t, the idea of him being involved in Jasper’s death brought up some complicated feelings since Vasily was also a friend; not as close as Lucille or Lucia were, in fact they only knew each other because of Lucia, but still a friend.
Akeno looked at Ivan and what she saw standing there was a dead man.
When he said he wasn’t going to get better she believed him; those injuries weren’t the type that you just walked off. Even if no one else laid a hand on him he’d probably collapse at some point in the next few days if he didn’t get to a hospital sometime soon. Ivan knew that and he was choosing to use his remaining strength to go after Fisk and the others instead of trying to keep himself alive. That either meant he was an idiot or that he was very aware of his situation; if he was going to die either way revenge might be the best outcome he could hope for at this point.
“You’re going to get yourself killed.” He knew that already. It didn’t matter. A couple of hours ago she wasn’t sure she would have understood why, but things had changed. Not enough to make her choose vengeance over living, if that was the case she would have killed Fisk back then, hail of bullets or not, but enough that if she had nothing else to lose she could see herself doing what Ivan was doing now. Akeno could understand the sentiment that even if she had no chance of winning, she could at least make sure Fisk lost.
She lowered her eyes back to the table and shifted in her seat. Telling him where to find them would be akin to helping him commit suicide, if it led to him trying to fight four people at once in his current state. It felt callous to do so, even if he was prepared for it; especially since she would be using him to get her own revenge as well, even if that wasn’t her intention. It felt equally cruel not to tell him, when this seemed to be all he had left.
“I didn’t see where the others went, but Vasily was on the deck of the cruise ship not too long ago.” She raised her head and looked Ivan in the eye. “The other three are hurt; if you find them you might have a chance.”
Akeno looked at Ivan and what she saw standing there was a dead man.
When he said he wasn’t going to get better she believed him; those injuries weren’t the type that you just walked off. Even if no one else laid a hand on him he’d probably collapse at some point in the next few days if he didn’t get to a hospital sometime soon. Ivan knew that and he was choosing to use his remaining strength to go after Fisk and the others instead of trying to keep himself alive. That either meant he was an idiot or that he was very aware of his situation; if he was going to die either way revenge might be the best outcome he could hope for at this point.
“You’re going to get yourself killed.” He knew that already. It didn’t matter. A couple of hours ago she wasn’t sure she would have understood why, but things had changed. Not enough to make her choose vengeance over living, if that was the case she would have killed Fisk back then, hail of bullets or not, but enough that if she had nothing else to lose she could see herself doing what Ivan was doing now. Akeno could understand the sentiment that even if she had no chance of winning, she could at least make sure Fisk lost.
She lowered her eyes back to the table and shifted in her seat. Telling him where to find them would be akin to helping him commit suicide, if it led to him trying to fight four people at once in his current state. It felt callous to do so, even if he was prepared for it; especially since she would be using him to get her own revenge as well, even if that wasn’t her intention. It felt equally cruel not to tell him, when this seemed to be all he had left.
“I didn’t see where the others went, but Vasily was on the deck of the cruise ship not too long ago.” She raised her head and looked Ivan in the eye. “The other three are hurt; if you find them you might have a chance.”