((Mizuho Inada continued from Wish Away the Pain))
Mizuho stepped from the trail to the viewing platform, reveling in the cool pre-morning air. It was still dark. It had been some time since she left the school now, some time since she left Yoshio and Mayumi and Izumi on the cliffs. Had she made the right choice? Perhaps. Perhaps not. It had made sense at the time, but now that she was away from them, she couldn't make herself see how they had seemed such a potential danger.
It didn't matter. It was done. If she went back now, they would most likely be gone, or they would meet her with suspicion. Instead, she was here, now, standing on the platform and looking out over the island. She was pretty sure it was still too dark for her to be easily seen. She would be very careful not to silhouette herself, not to give anyone too clear a shot at her. She was only up here for a little while, for one specific reason.
Mizuho was on the observation platform to watch the sun rise over the island. That would mean she had succeeded, at least in the one small goal she had set for herself. It couldn't be that hard. She just had to live for... she wasn't quite sure how long. It couldn't be too much longer. The first announcements would come, soon, right around sunrise. Then she would know for sure how worried to be. She would know whether her classmates were truly playing this insane game. If they weren't, well, she could relax a little. She could stop fantasizing solutions to her problems, and maybe get some people together and figure out some real answers. Well, most likely nobody would listen to her. She was no leader. She was that weird girl, the one they all talked about behind her back, thinking she couldn't hear. They didn't like her because she wasn't afraid to have an imagination. Well, actually they disliked her because she wasn't afraid to share her imagination with anyone around her, but it was pretty much the same thing.
Still, the group, the plan, that was in the best case. What about other situations? What if things went worse? What if her schoolmates were playing, had been killing each other all night? Mizuho wouldn't be able to trust anyone, then, not unless they proved their good intentions. Right now, she knew Yoshio was probably okay. Mayumi too. Was there anyone else she could rely on, though? Maybe Kaori. Besides that, she would have to keep everyone at arms length, keep her guard up.
Just like she should be doing now.
Mizuho's eyes widened. She had been getting complacent. She hadn't been prepared at all. Someone could have shot her in the back, or hit her over the head, or climbed over the observation platform and flipped her off it using kung fu. She whipped her head around, checked the area. She couldn't see anyone, but her view wasn't so great, not like on the cliffs. There was no starlight to reveal anyone lurking among the trees. Only she would be visible, up on the platform.
She dug out one of her grenades again, and slowly, quietly, moved off the platform. She could go back when the time got closer. For now, she would wait under the trees, wait and watch and not get shot to death.
And Oh, What a View...
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MurderWeasel
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((Ryuhei Sasagawa continued from Its only a game, right?))
If it weren’t for the fact that it was such a dark night, Mizuho would have almost certainly noticed Ryuhei Sasagawa as he stumbled slowly through the forest in the general direction of the mountain, dragging his recently acquired fire axe behind him. He’d been walking none stop ever since the incident with Keita, and after several hours of marching had become exceedingly tired and frustrated. He wasn’t used to going on such long treks, and as a result his feet were covered in blisters and his body covered in painful cramps. He had wanted to find some place to serve as shelter, some building where he could spend the night to get his strength back up. However, as the northern mountain came into view, he realised that he wasn’t likely to come across one anytime soon.
Great… Just great… I had to go ahead and leave the one shelter I could find on this fucking rock didn’t? Christ knows how long till I find a deserted place like that again… Real fucking’ perfect…
He took out a map from his coat pocket, trying to see if he could tell where the nearest building was. Sadly, it was way too dark for him to tell what’s what on the map without straining his eyes.
Figures…
As he looked up at the viewing platform on top of the mountain, he briefly considered the possibility of looking for a building from there. Or, heck, using the platform itself as a temporary shelter. But he quickly decided against that notion. For one, it was probably too dark to see anything anyway. Plus, he was way too tired to even consider climbing a mountain that size, so instead he decided to rest it out against a nearby tree.
If he’d paid attention, he probably would have noticed Mizuho’s silhouette within the viewing platform. However, as it happened, it was way too dark for him to notice her anyway even if he wasn’t so tired.
He yawned quietly as he lay against the base of a large tree, gently placing his bag behind his head as a temporary cushion. Normally, this’d be a far too uncomfortable place for him to sleep properly. However, at this moment in time he was far too exhausted to be concerned with little details like comfort. All he desired right now was sleep, and not even his starving appetite would rob him of that pleasure tonight. He held tight to the fire axe for safety as he slowly but surely drifted off into unconsciousness.
Luckily for him, he happened to had chosen a spot on the opposite side of the mountain to where Mizuho had gotten off to. Unless she suddenly decided to circle around the entire mountain, she’d never notice him lying there fast asleep with an axe clutched against his chest.
If it weren’t for the fact that it was such a dark night, Mizuho would have almost certainly noticed Ryuhei Sasagawa as he stumbled slowly through the forest in the general direction of the mountain, dragging his recently acquired fire axe behind him. He’d been walking none stop ever since the incident with Keita, and after several hours of marching had become exceedingly tired and frustrated. He wasn’t used to going on such long treks, and as a result his feet were covered in blisters and his body covered in painful cramps. He had wanted to find some place to serve as shelter, some building where he could spend the night to get his strength back up. However, as the northern mountain came into view, he realised that he wasn’t likely to come across one anytime soon.
Great… Just great… I had to go ahead and leave the one shelter I could find on this fucking rock didn’t? Christ knows how long till I find a deserted place like that again… Real fucking’ perfect…
He took out a map from his coat pocket, trying to see if he could tell where the nearest building was. Sadly, it was way too dark for him to tell what’s what on the map without straining his eyes.
Figures…
As he looked up at the viewing platform on top of the mountain, he briefly considered the possibility of looking for a building from there. Or, heck, using the platform itself as a temporary shelter. But he quickly decided against that notion. For one, it was probably too dark to see anything anyway. Plus, he was way too tired to even consider climbing a mountain that size, so instead he decided to rest it out against a nearby tree.
If he’d paid attention, he probably would have noticed Mizuho’s silhouette within the viewing platform. However, as it happened, it was way too dark for him to notice her anyway even if he wasn’t so tired.
He yawned quietly as he lay against the base of a large tree, gently placing his bag behind his head as a temporary cushion. Normally, this’d be a far too uncomfortable place for him to sleep properly. However, at this moment in time he was far too exhausted to be concerned with little details like comfort. All he desired right now was sleep, and not even his starving appetite would rob him of that pleasure tonight. He held tight to the fire axe for safety as he slowly but surely drifted off into unconsciousness.
Luckily for him, he happened to had chosen a spot on the opposite side of the mountain to where Mizuho had gotten off to. Unless she suddenly decided to circle around the entire mountain, she’d never notice him lying there fast asleep with an axe clutched against his chest.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
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MurderWeasel
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Waiting, waiting, waiting. It was not exciting, not at all. Mizuho found her mind wandering more and more. She found herself lost amidst the possibilities of the situation, considering it as she had not yet done. It was real. She didn't want to be killed. But, really, what did that mean? Would she... could she actually play? Could she try to kill her classmates, to put an end to those who had been a part of her life for so long? No. Well, sort of no. She couldn't murder anyone.
On the other hand, she couldn't just sit back and watch them kill each other, either, could she? She couldn't be entirely reactive. People would probably play. Her wost imaginings included the whole class fighting, a massive, bloody free-for-all in a valley somewhere, with her standing at the top, looking down, horrified, until the battered, broken winner—someone like Souma or Kawada or Kiriyama—stumbled up the slope to her, gun in hand, and blew her away. Her happier thoughts were different, though. In them, everyone banded together, made a plan, blew up the school, and... well, Kamon would pay. Maybe not with the race. Maybe she'd have thought of something worse by then.
She had to know where she stood, though. She had to do something. Her thoughts flickered back to the classroom, as she fingered her glass pendant again. Had she known when she wrote on that piece of paper? Had she had some sort of precognitive experience? Perhaps fortune telling was in her future, as well as glory and a long life.
I will kill those who hurt others. I will kill the unjust. I will kill the killers. That was what she had written. She had crossed it out, but it had been her initial reaction. Justice. Good. Stopping those who did wrong. Could she do it?
Realistically, probably not. She was no fighter. She could imagine herself as a warrior, imagine herself mowing down evil, faceless opponents, but there was no way she could look her classmates in the eyes and kill them, even the ones who had always been nasty to her. It just wasn't possible for any sane person to do that.
Then again, if they started killing, were they really her classmates anymore? It meant they were too lost to be reclaimed. It meant they had gone too far, become monsters. Was killing a monster bad? It had to be, right? Killing was killing.
Mizuho dug into her pack, setting aside her grenade and her thoughts for a moment. There was food, as the man had said. Food and water. Just bread, not too tasty, not too nourishing, but enough to keep her going. She broke off a small piece, ate it, took a drink, kneeling the whole while, then repacked the food and water, picked her grenade back up, and stood again. The sun should rise before too long. Maybe. She had a watch, but she wasn't up this early very often, so she didn't really know when it usually came up.
There was nothing to do but stand and think. She wasn't tired. How could anyone be, in this situation? She could sleep later, somewhere safe, if she found time. If she was going to die, well, she might as well not waste her last few hours sleeping. It almost would have been a relief, though, to get away from her thoughts.
She looked out again, still concealed but watching the world below. Not much to see in the dark, but enough. It was, in its own, strange way, incredibly beautiful.
On the other hand, she couldn't just sit back and watch them kill each other, either, could she? She couldn't be entirely reactive. People would probably play. Her wost imaginings included the whole class fighting, a massive, bloody free-for-all in a valley somewhere, with her standing at the top, looking down, horrified, until the battered, broken winner—someone like Souma or Kawada or Kiriyama—stumbled up the slope to her, gun in hand, and blew her away. Her happier thoughts were different, though. In them, everyone banded together, made a plan, blew up the school, and... well, Kamon would pay. Maybe not with the race. Maybe she'd have thought of something worse by then.
She had to know where she stood, though. She had to do something. Her thoughts flickered back to the classroom, as she fingered her glass pendant again. Had she known when she wrote on that piece of paper? Had she had some sort of precognitive experience? Perhaps fortune telling was in her future, as well as glory and a long life.
I will kill those who hurt others. I will kill the unjust. I will kill the killers. That was what she had written. She had crossed it out, but it had been her initial reaction. Justice. Good. Stopping those who did wrong. Could she do it?
Realistically, probably not. She was no fighter. She could imagine herself as a warrior, imagine herself mowing down evil, faceless opponents, but there was no way she could look her classmates in the eyes and kill them, even the ones who had always been nasty to her. It just wasn't possible for any sane person to do that.
Then again, if they started killing, were they really her classmates anymore? It meant they were too lost to be reclaimed. It meant they had gone too far, become monsters. Was killing a monster bad? It had to be, right? Killing was killing.
Mizuho dug into her pack, setting aside her grenade and her thoughts for a moment. There was food, as the man had said. Food and water. Just bread, not too tasty, not too nourishing, but enough to keep her going. She broke off a small piece, ate it, took a drink, kneeling the whole while, then repacked the food and water, picked her grenade back up, and stood again. The sun should rise before too long. Maybe. She had a watch, but she wasn't up this early very often, so she didn't really know when it usually came up.
There was nothing to do but stand and think. She wasn't tired. How could anyone be, in this situation? She could sleep later, somewhere safe, if she found time. If she was going to die, well, she might as well not waste her last few hours sleeping. It almost would have been a relief, though, to get away from her thoughts.
She looked out again, still concealed but watching the world below. Not much to see in the dark, but enough. It was, in its own, strange way, incredibly beautiful.
((Mitsuko Souma continued from Ice Cold Night))
It had been a while since Mitsuko Souma had left the southern peak in a dash, moving with no real direction in mind, her map remaining untouched at the bottom of her bag; by some stroke of coincidence she had picked a route that would lead her straight to the northern peak on the opposite side of the island, and after trekking through the forest and miraculously avoiding any other students (“Probably all sucking their thumbs somewhere.” she thought), Mitsuko wasn't far off Mizuho Inada or Ryuhei Sasagawa any more.
As the woods got less and less dense, Mitsuko began to see the outline of the notable viewing platform through the trees. ”Top of the mountain again, huh?” she asked herself, looking at the small building and remembering how steeper the climb had gotten for the last part. ”I'll stay out of sight this time.”
As she made her last few steps towards the edge of the clearing, Mitsuko relaxed and took in a deep breath. She wasn't used to all this running, usually getting a lift from some old perv if she needed to get anywhere far, and so she leaned against the tree to catch her breath, resting her head on the supporting tree.
And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that she was not alone.
Not alone was a putting it mildly: she was right next to Mizuho Inada.
”Shit!” she yelled inside her head, her eyes drawing back into her head tightly with surprise. ”When'd she get here?!
Mizuho was, unbeknownst to Mitsuko, blocked from her view during her ascent by the rows of trees ahead of her. Whilst Mitsuko hadn't been particularly noisy during the climb, she had no way of knowing just how prepared Mizuho was for her arrival, her surprise clouding her ability to concentrate. She had to act fast if she didn't want to risk getting her head blown off.
“Mizuho! Thank god!” she cried, queueing her eyes to start growing moist as she leant forwards slightly, reducing her frame to the point she was almost huddled over. “I was so scared...I thought I'd be alone for...Mizuho, thank god!” The tears were starting to stream slowly down her face now, following her commands precisely. ”Good, make yourself vulnerable to her.” she told herself, looking up at her prey. Mizuho Inada was of no concern to Mitsuko's; she could daydream about whatever, just so much as she kept it to herself, although the way she acted them out weirded Mitsuko out: What was she, five?
”Easy now Mitsu, don't overdo it.” This was to be her first opponent of the game; she couldn't screw up already.
It had been a while since Mitsuko Souma had left the southern peak in a dash, moving with no real direction in mind, her map remaining untouched at the bottom of her bag; by some stroke of coincidence she had picked a route that would lead her straight to the northern peak on the opposite side of the island, and after trekking through the forest and miraculously avoiding any other students (“Probably all sucking their thumbs somewhere.” she thought), Mitsuko wasn't far off Mizuho Inada or Ryuhei Sasagawa any more.
As the woods got less and less dense, Mitsuko began to see the outline of the notable viewing platform through the trees. ”Top of the mountain again, huh?” she asked herself, looking at the small building and remembering how steeper the climb had gotten for the last part. ”I'll stay out of sight this time.”
As she made her last few steps towards the edge of the clearing, Mitsuko relaxed and took in a deep breath. She wasn't used to all this running, usually getting a lift from some old perv if she needed to get anywhere far, and so she leaned against the tree to catch her breath, resting her head on the supporting tree.
And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that she was not alone.
Not alone was a putting it mildly: she was right next to Mizuho Inada.
”Shit!” she yelled inside her head, her eyes drawing back into her head tightly with surprise. ”When'd she get here?!
Mizuho was, unbeknownst to Mitsuko, blocked from her view during her ascent by the rows of trees ahead of her. Whilst Mitsuko hadn't been particularly noisy during the climb, she had no way of knowing just how prepared Mizuho was for her arrival, her surprise clouding her ability to concentrate. She had to act fast if she didn't want to risk getting her head blown off.
“Mizuho! Thank god!” she cried, queueing her eyes to start growing moist as she leant forwards slightly, reducing her frame to the point she was almost huddled over. “I was so scared...I thought I'd be alone for...Mizuho, thank god!” The tears were starting to stream slowly down her face now, following her commands precisely. ”Good, make yourself vulnerable to her.” she told herself, looking up at her prey. Mizuho Inada was of no concern to Mitsuko's; she could daydream about whatever, just so much as she kept it to herself, although the way she acted them out weirded Mitsuko out: What was she, five?
”Easy now Mitsu, don't overdo it.” This was to be her first opponent of the game; she couldn't screw up already.
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MurderWeasel
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((Post order broken for the next bit with Fioriboy's permission, since Ryuhei's sleeping and all))
Mizuho caught sight of the other figure against the tree fairly quickly, though not quite fast enough to get away. It took her mind a second to register the figure, to guess who it was, but it didn't take her imagination any time at all. The two were in sync, for once, and Mizuho spun away, scooping up her bags in her right hand, hardly listening to Mitsuko's pleas and cries. Maybe they were genuine. Maybe Souma really was scared. Let her be scared, then. Mizuho and her friends did not trust Souma. Perhaps one of the others would have been more forgiving, but Mizuho was not about to put any faith in the girl in front of her.
She stumbled backwards, out onto the platform. It was light enough for her to see decently here. Mitsuko would have to break cover to follow her, and that would let Mizuho get a good look at the girl. Not that it would matter. Souma could be bleeding to death, and Mizuho wouldn't trust her. No, Souma would be armed, well armed. Besides, supposed "randomness" didn't matter here; the cosmic forces had likely thrown Mitsuko into this situation as a challenge, a test for the righteous to overcome. There weren't many of her classmates who Mizuho would never trust, but Souma and Kawada definitely made that list. There was just something... wrong about them.
"Don't try anything, Souma!" Mizuho growled. She still didn't know what the girl was armed with. A rifle? A katana? Something worse, a flamethrower or rocket launcher or something? It was the cliffs all over again, only real now, Mitsuko really here, really armed. It wasn't how she'd imagined it, but that didn't matter. This was worse. This was unexpected, and that meant danger.
Still, now that she was in action, Mizuho found it easier to think, easier to relax. She was running on instinct, not bothering to distinguish fantasy from reality anymore. No, now she assumed that Mitsuko was armed to the teeth, crying crocodile tears as she leveled a gun straight at Mizuho's heart, grinning with too many teeth from a black, empty face.
Mizuho lowered her voice a little, spoke calmly, almost casually.
"If you shoot me, you die too."
She raised her left hand, bringing the grenade up to catch the light, so much stronger now that she was in the center of the platform. She hooked her thumb into the ring. Mizuho had watched enough movies to have a basic idea of how grenades worked. Pull the pin, you were fine. Once the handle came off, though, you didn't have long to find cover. Not long at all. Certainly not enough time for either of them to get clear, given their mountaintop position.
"If you attack me with your katana, you die too."
She pulled the pin slightly. It still held the handle safely to the grenade, but she thought the threat in the gesture was evident enough.
She wasn't even thinking about cover anymore, or about people below shooting her, or about the fact that she was silhouetted atop the platform, in clear view of anyone watching. Everything was focused on that one person in front of her. She would not die here. She would not be killed by Souma. And, if she was, if she didn't live until sunrise, well, she would create a sunrise of her own. Purifying fire would purge the mountaintop, purge Mizuho and Mitsuko; shrapnel and flame would bring death and rebirth. That was how the world worked.
Mizuho caught sight of the other figure against the tree fairly quickly, though not quite fast enough to get away. It took her mind a second to register the figure, to guess who it was, but it didn't take her imagination any time at all. The two were in sync, for once, and Mizuho spun away, scooping up her bags in her right hand, hardly listening to Mitsuko's pleas and cries. Maybe they were genuine. Maybe Souma really was scared. Let her be scared, then. Mizuho and her friends did not trust Souma. Perhaps one of the others would have been more forgiving, but Mizuho was not about to put any faith in the girl in front of her.
She stumbled backwards, out onto the platform. It was light enough for her to see decently here. Mitsuko would have to break cover to follow her, and that would let Mizuho get a good look at the girl. Not that it would matter. Souma could be bleeding to death, and Mizuho wouldn't trust her. No, Souma would be armed, well armed. Besides, supposed "randomness" didn't matter here; the cosmic forces had likely thrown Mitsuko into this situation as a challenge, a test for the righteous to overcome. There weren't many of her classmates who Mizuho would never trust, but Souma and Kawada definitely made that list. There was just something... wrong about them.
"Don't try anything, Souma!" Mizuho growled. She still didn't know what the girl was armed with. A rifle? A katana? Something worse, a flamethrower or rocket launcher or something? It was the cliffs all over again, only real now, Mitsuko really here, really armed. It wasn't how she'd imagined it, but that didn't matter. This was worse. This was unexpected, and that meant danger.
Still, now that she was in action, Mizuho found it easier to think, easier to relax. She was running on instinct, not bothering to distinguish fantasy from reality anymore. No, now she assumed that Mitsuko was armed to the teeth, crying crocodile tears as she leveled a gun straight at Mizuho's heart, grinning with too many teeth from a black, empty face.
Mizuho lowered her voice a little, spoke calmly, almost casually.
"If you shoot me, you die too."
She raised her left hand, bringing the grenade up to catch the light, so much stronger now that she was in the center of the platform. She hooked her thumb into the ring. Mizuho had watched enough movies to have a basic idea of how grenades worked. Pull the pin, you were fine. Once the handle came off, though, you didn't have long to find cover. Not long at all. Certainly not enough time for either of them to get clear, given their mountaintop position.
"If you attack me with your katana, you die too."
She pulled the pin slightly. It still held the handle safely to the grenade, but she thought the threat in the gesture was evident enough.
She wasn't even thinking about cover anymore, or about people below shooting her, or about the fact that she was silhouetted atop the platform, in clear view of anyone watching. Everything was focused on that one person in front of her. She would not die here. She would not be killed by Souma. And, if she was, if she didn't live until sunrise, well, she would create a sunrise of her own. Purifying fire would purge the mountaintop, purge Mizuho and Mitsuko; shrapnel and flame would bring death and rebirth. That was how the world worked.
Though Mitsuko's cries were as good as any of her other phony pleas for help, they failed to convince Mizuho to stay behind, ruining her plans to slit her skinny little neck; instead, Mizuho was running towards the platform, standing high and mighty for all to see. She was pretty damn stupid for doing something like that, and with any luck someone else would see her and blow her head off for her.
However, she couldn't just stand against the trees with a wet face forever, lest Mizuho try anything with whatever weapon she had. No, she had to stay in sight of her prey, making herself seem as vulnerable as possible in order to appeal to her classmate's sympathy. Moving out from under the trees, keeping cautious whilst trying not to look paranoid, Mitsuko cried out to Mizuho, waiting for her to lavish in her misery.
“Please, Mizuho! I...I don't want to be alone! Don't leave me!” she wailed, making sure the water works flowed constantly. ”That's right, go help the crying little Souma, daydreamer.” she smirked mentally, continuing to move closer slowly, but surely. “Please! Why are you running?!” she sobbed, acting as if Mizuho's behaviour was completely unreasonable.
Suddenly, Inada was speaking defensively, and was raising her hand high above her head: she was holding on to something, as evidenced by the glint from the moonlight, but she was too far away for Mitsuko to pick out what that thing was. "If you attack me with your katana, you die too." she warned her, Mitsuko's eyes widening slightly at the comment. Katana? What the hell was she on about? Did she look like she had a katana?
”Play it cool Mitsu; you don't know just how weird she is.” Mitusko warned herself, dragging her feet halfway between the tree line and Mizuho. Here, she huddled over even more, wrapped her arms around her chest to create the illusion of terror, and spoke out to Mizuho once again. “Please Mizuho! I don't have a katana! I don't have anything! Please don't hurt me!” Then, for added effect, she looked down at her bag and pretended to only just notice it was there, pulling it off her head and throwing it on to the ground behind her. “See? I don't have anything Mizuho!”
”Come on Inada, just how fucked up can you be to not trust a crying little girl?”
However, she couldn't just stand against the trees with a wet face forever, lest Mizuho try anything with whatever weapon she had. No, she had to stay in sight of her prey, making herself seem as vulnerable as possible in order to appeal to her classmate's sympathy. Moving out from under the trees, keeping cautious whilst trying not to look paranoid, Mitsuko cried out to Mizuho, waiting for her to lavish in her misery.
“Please, Mizuho! I...I don't want to be alone! Don't leave me!” she wailed, making sure the water works flowed constantly. ”That's right, go help the crying little Souma, daydreamer.” she smirked mentally, continuing to move closer slowly, but surely. “Please! Why are you running?!” she sobbed, acting as if Mizuho's behaviour was completely unreasonable.
Suddenly, Inada was speaking defensively, and was raising her hand high above her head: she was holding on to something, as evidenced by the glint from the moonlight, but she was too far away for Mitsuko to pick out what that thing was. "If you attack me with your katana, you die too." she warned her, Mitsuko's eyes widening slightly at the comment. Katana? What the hell was she on about? Did she look like she had a katana?
”Play it cool Mitsu; you don't know just how weird she is.” Mitusko warned herself, dragging her feet halfway between the tree line and Mizuho. Here, she huddled over even more, wrapped her arms around her chest to create the illusion of terror, and spoke out to Mizuho once again. “Please Mizuho! I don't have a katana! I don't have anything! Please don't hurt me!” Then, for added effect, she looked down at her bag and pretended to only just notice it was there, pulling it off her head and throwing it on to the ground behind her. “See? I don't have anything Mizuho!”
”Come on Inada, just how fucked up can you be to not trust a crying little girl?”
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MurderWeasel
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Mitsuko kept coming, kept up her sniveling and crying and pleading. She even dropped her bag, claiming she was unarmed. It was a wonderful performance. It confused Mizuho quite a bit. Perhaps Mitsuko was, for once in her life, being genuine. Perhaps she was honestly scared, honestly searching for company. Maybe it was cruel of Mizuho to turn her away.
It didn't matter. In fact, Mizuho felt a flush of power. She had been given the roles of judge, jury, executioner, guardian angel, and many more. She could pick and choose, react however she wanted. She could do anything. She was free. And here was Mitsuko, "Hardcore Souma" herself, begging her mercy. It was hers to give.
It was hers to deny. Mitsuko was still coming. She apparently didn't sense the gravity of this situation. Was she assuming Mizuho wouldn't blow them both up if she was attacked? Maybe it was time to make things a little clearer.
"Stop moving, Mitsuko," Mizuho said. She was smiling. For some reason, she felt both terrified and exhilarated. Somehow, she was almost happy. It was strange, but she had the undeniable sensation that what she was doing was right. She was an avatar of, if not good, at least justice. Mizuho shook the grenade a little, hoping the ring would make a pleasant jingling sound. It did not. She frowned a little, then said, "This is a grenade, Mitsuko. This is a grenade that will kill us both if I let it go. I will let it go if I die. I will let it go if you attack me, since I probably can't fend you off. Grenades are my only weapon, Mitsuko. I have only one option here. I'm backed up against a ledge. My only choice is whether I drop this grenade or not.
"You, Mitsuko, you have choices. You've always had choices. Nothing has changed." As she spoke, Mizuho could feel her spirits rising. She didn't know exactly what she was saying. It was a speech, just like the sorts heroes (or was it villains?) always gave, the sort of thing you said when you really meant it. She meant it now. She continued on, speaking levelly, evenly, not pausing long enough to let Mitsuko get a word in edgewise.
"You have many choices, but they lead to a very limited number of results. There are two of us here. Either both of us will walk away from this or neither of us will. If you attack me, neither of us walks away. If you try something funny, neither of us walks away. If you make me too nervous, neither of us walks away. If anything happens to me, any ally of yours shoots me, neither of us walks away."
As Mizuho spoke, she felt her body warming. She didn't know what time it was. Maybe the sun was coming up now, behind her, soon to cast her shadow across the platform to strike Mitsuko. Maybe she was just imaging it. If the sun wasn't rising, though, it should have been. It had to be. It was. It was that simple.
"But, Mitsuko, if you turn around, maybe we both walk away. Maybe you're telling the truth. Maybe you're lying." It was so funny. The whole thing was so funny. Mizuho was here, talking this way to Mitsuko Souma. She was staring down Mitsuko! Just yesterday, they were classmates, at school, leading normal lives, and Mizuho was terrified of Mitsuko. She was still terrified of her, but now she had been propelled into action, or, more accurately, aggressive inaction. She laughed a little before continuing, a high, light, girlish laugh.
"I don't care, Mitsuko. I don't care. Go be scared somewhere else. Go cling to someone else. You say you need me? That's too bad. I'm not letting you near me. I'm not messing around with you."
She could see her shadow, now, in the brightening dawn light, and suddenly, her mood changed. It really was dawn. That meant... She pulled the pin a millimeter more, smiling oh so broadly, her spirits plunging into a sort of resigned melancholy.
"Let's die here, Mitsuko," she said. She didn't know what she was saying, but it seemed right. After all, the sun was coming up. "Come to me, and we'll die together. You won't be alone. Take another step, and I'll pull the pin, and we can burn together."
Mizuho reached her other hand, the one holding the bags, up to her neck, letting the straps slide into the crook of her elbow, and grasped her crystal necklace.
It didn't matter. In fact, Mizuho felt a flush of power. She had been given the roles of judge, jury, executioner, guardian angel, and many more. She could pick and choose, react however she wanted. She could do anything. She was free. And here was Mitsuko, "Hardcore Souma" herself, begging her mercy. It was hers to give.
It was hers to deny. Mitsuko was still coming. She apparently didn't sense the gravity of this situation. Was she assuming Mizuho wouldn't blow them both up if she was attacked? Maybe it was time to make things a little clearer.
"Stop moving, Mitsuko," Mizuho said. She was smiling. For some reason, she felt both terrified and exhilarated. Somehow, she was almost happy. It was strange, but she had the undeniable sensation that what she was doing was right. She was an avatar of, if not good, at least justice. Mizuho shook the grenade a little, hoping the ring would make a pleasant jingling sound. It did not. She frowned a little, then said, "This is a grenade, Mitsuko. This is a grenade that will kill us both if I let it go. I will let it go if I die. I will let it go if you attack me, since I probably can't fend you off. Grenades are my only weapon, Mitsuko. I have only one option here. I'm backed up against a ledge. My only choice is whether I drop this grenade or not.
"You, Mitsuko, you have choices. You've always had choices. Nothing has changed." As she spoke, Mizuho could feel her spirits rising. She didn't know exactly what she was saying. It was a speech, just like the sorts heroes (or was it villains?) always gave, the sort of thing you said when you really meant it. She meant it now. She continued on, speaking levelly, evenly, not pausing long enough to let Mitsuko get a word in edgewise.
"You have many choices, but they lead to a very limited number of results. There are two of us here. Either both of us will walk away from this or neither of us will. If you attack me, neither of us walks away. If you try something funny, neither of us walks away. If you make me too nervous, neither of us walks away. If anything happens to me, any ally of yours shoots me, neither of us walks away."
As Mizuho spoke, she felt her body warming. She didn't know what time it was. Maybe the sun was coming up now, behind her, soon to cast her shadow across the platform to strike Mitsuko. Maybe she was just imaging it. If the sun wasn't rising, though, it should have been. It had to be. It was. It was that simple.
"But, Mitsuko, if you turn around, maybe we both walk away. Maybe you're telling the truth. Maybe you're lying." It was so funny. The whole thing was so funny. Mizuho was here, talking this way to Mitsuko Souma. She was staring down Mitsuko! Just yesterday, they were classmates, at school, leading normal lives, and Mizuho was terrified of Mitsuko. She was still terrified of her, but now she had been propelled into action, or, more accurately, aggressive inaction. She laughed a little before continuing, a high, light, girlish laugh.
"I don't care, Mitsuko. I don't care. Go be scared somewhere else. Go cling to someone else. You say you need me? That's too bad. I'm not letting you near me. I'm not messing around with you."
She could see her shadow, now, in the brightening dawn light, and suddenly, her mood changed. It really was dawn. That meant... She pulled the pin a millimeter more, smiling oh so broadly, her spirits plunging into a sort of resigned melancholy.
"Let's die here, Mitsuko," she said. She didn't know what she was saying, but it seemed right. After all, the sun was coming up. "Come to me, and we'll die together. You won't be alone. Take another step, and I'll pull the pin, and we can burn together."
Mizuho reached her other hand, the one holding the bags, up to her neck, letting the straps slide into the crook of her elbow, and grasped her crystal necklace.
As Mitsuko and Mizuho entered what could be best described as a Mexican standoff, Ryuhei Sasagawa simply slept underneath a tree, blissfully unaware of the dangerous situation that was transpiring so very near to him. He could barely hear the voices in the viewing platform from where he was resting, the noise itself causing little to no disturbance for him.
Well, for now at least. Sooner or later he was bound to hear something loud enough to cause him to stir from his deep slumber. It was only a matter of time before the situation above him got out of control, and whether he'd liked to or not he’d eventually be rudely awoken.
Until then, he slept. With nothing to comfort him but a fire axe his own vivid imagination. However it seemed as if even his own imagination would be out to get him this night, for whilst the noise wasn’t loud enough to awaken him it was certainly loud enough to have a subtle effect on the dreams that transpired that night....
Well, for now at least. Sooner or later he was bound to hear something loud enough to cause him to stir from his deep slumber. It was only a matter of time before the situation above him got out of control, and whether he'd liked to or not he’d eventually be rudely awoken.
Until then, he slept. With nothing to comfort him but a fire axe his own vivid imagination. However it seemed as if even his own imagination would be out to get him this night, for whilst the noise wasn’t loud enough to awaken him it was certainly loud enough to have a subtle effect on the dreams that transpired that night....
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
It didn’t matter what she did, Mizuho wasn’t responding. She wasn’t taking her trust, why wasn’t she taking her trust?!
Girls don’t take your trust like men do: men take your trust as soon as you touch; girls don’t trust you straight away. Girls aren’t like men.
Even with the tears streaming down her fake horrified face, Mizuho was just stood there, hand held high, with the sun rising behind her back and shining straight in Mitusko’s eyes. Even in the bright light though, she could make it out: she was smiling. Fucking psycho was getting off on this!
“This is a grenade, Mitsuko.” The nut job announced, and that was all Mitsuko heard. No matter which way you looked at it, she was in a bad place: there was no way she could get up to her, slit her throat, and get away before she pulled the pin on that, and she wasn’t any Nanahara, dead as he was, when it came to pitching small objects. Shit, she wasn’t going to get this one.
Not yet, at least.
Keeping up her charade of misery, Mitsuko cried out at her classmate once more, her body becoming less and less visible thanks to the blinding sun behind her. “M-Mizuho! I’m sorry! I didn’t… I don’t… I’m sorry!” she lied, adding the characteristic stutter of all the pussies for extra drama. She might not have been able to get close enough to finish her off, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be other chances. She could run into her again in the future, assuming the freak lived that long, and if that happened she didn’t want her ready to blow her to bits there and then. At least by then, she’d have a chance to get some real weapons.
It would be risky, trying to run, but staying there would be just as risky. Besides, the bitch had said she could leave if she wanted, and those upright do-gooders of her classmates were probably honour bound by their word anyway, everyone except the slime and the frog. She had to get out of there as soon as she could, unless people with a gun saw her first instead of little miss obvious up on the platform.
“I’m sorry!” she cried out one more time, not cutting off the tears just yet; and then she ran. She retreated from Mizuho for now, grabbing her bag and going back down the hill, the trees giving her cover from being picked off from behind by any stray grenade tosses. She had missed her chance this time, but she’d get back at her. She would. After all, she had made her trust her when she said she wouldn’t kill her. She had made her trust.
She’s taking our trust!
((Mitsuko Souma continued elsewhere.))
Girls don’t take your trust like men do: men take your trust as soon as you touch; girls don’t trust you straight away. Girls aren’t like men.
Even with the tears streaming down her fake horrified face, Mizuho was just stood there, hand held high, with the sun rising behind her back and shining straight in Mitusko’s eyes. Even in the bright light though, she could make it out: she was smiling. Fucking psycho was getting off on this!
“This is a grenade, Mitsuko.” The nut job announced, and that was all Mitsuko heard. No matter which way you looked at it, she was in a bad place: there was no way she could get up to her, slit her throat, and get away before she pulled the pin on that, and she wasn’t any Nanahara, dead as he was, when it came to pitching small objects. Shit, she wasn’t going to get this one.
Not yet, at least.
Keeping up her charade of misery, Mitsuko cried out at her classmate once more, her body becoming less and less visible thanks to the blinding sun behind her. “M-Mizuho! I’m sorry! I didn’t… I don’t… I’m sorry!” she lied, adding the characteristic stutter of all the pussies for extra drama. She might not have been able to get close enough to finish her off, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be other chances. She could run into her again in the future, assuming the freak lived that long, and if that happened she didn’t want her ready to blow her to bits there and then. At least by then, she’d have a chance to get some real weapons.
It would be risky, trying to run, but staying there would be just as risky. Besides, the bitch had said she could leave if she wanted, and those upright do-gooders of her classmates were probably honour bound by their word anyway, everyone except the slime and the frog. She had to get out of there as soon as she could, unless people with a gun saw her first instead of little miss obvious up on the platform.
“I’m sorry!” she cried out one more time, not cutting off the tears just yet; and then she ran. She retreated from Mizuho for now, grabbing her bag and going back down the hill, the trees giving her cover from being picked off from behind by any stray grenade tosses. She had missed her chance this time, but she’d get back at her. She would. After all, she had made her trust her when she said she wouldn’t kill her. She had made her trust.
She’s taking our trust!
((Mitsuko Souma continued elsewhere.))
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3462
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
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Just like that, Mitsuko was gone. Mizuho shivered in the sun. It was... what was happening? What had happened? Had she misjudged Mitsuko? Maybe. Maybe not. She couldn't know. It was too much. She slumped down, with barely the presence of mind to push the pin all the way back into the grenade, making it safe again. She sat there for a while, breathing heavily, shaking, completely oblivious. Luckily, she was low enough to be out of the line of sight of anyone below.
She looked around. The sun was up, now. She'd made it. Just like she'd thought, she'd made it. It warmed her, revitalized her. The problem was, it also stripped her of her goal, her motivation. What now? She was tempted to just sit here, waiting, until someone came along and killed her or the platform became a danger zone. She was feeling terminally apathetic.
Just then, a voice boomed out, from everywhere and nowhere. Mizuho jerked. What was it? Some new trick? Demons? Monsters?
No. Just an announcement. They'd been told about those back in the classroom.
"Good morning my brave little warriors! My, have you not been busy? <3"
Kamon's voice. Mizuho clenched her hands. And what was he saying? Her classmates had been playing. Many were dead. Mizuho didn't even pay that much attention to them. She couldn't change anything. Nothing she could do would matter. She didn't care, until...
"...Seto not long afterwards. Female Student #3 Megumi Eto was wasted, and in our final kill of this six hour win..."
Megumi! Megumi, one of Mizuho's few friends, was dead. Dead and... gone? How was that even possible? Megumi was gone. Ended. No more. There would be no more joking around at lunch, no more giggling and playing. No more anything. Megumi was dead. Who did that even leave? Kaori, Mayumi, and Yoshio, and Mizuho wasn't even all that familiar with the latter two. She wasn't a popular girl. She didn't have many friends. What could she do? They were all going to die.
Yes, maybe. Or maybe all but one. Who would that last survivor be? It had to be someone good. It had to. Not someone like Souma, or Kawada. Someone decent. A Yoshio or Kaori. Mizuho had to make sure of that.
And, and, and people had to be punished, too. Someone had killed Megumi. Poor Megumi, who never hurt anyone. That person... that person was the worst in the world. There was nothing more sick, more vile. Mizuho would find Megumi's killer, and she would make that person pay.
She envisioned herself, clad in red robes, carrying a sword, walking slowly, surely towards a shadowy figure on the ground. The figure screamed for mercy, claimed it hadn't meant it, but there could be no mercy, none except quick retribution, for Megumi was dead, and not coming back.
Energized once again, Mizuho stood up and looked around from the platform, hoping she'd be able to see somebody. There was no one, though. Her classmates were too smart to stand in the open. She'd have to move around to find them. Mizuho quickly thought back to the announcement. She thought she could remember the danger zones alright. She'd just have to be extra careful, and get them from someone who'd been paying more attention.
Stealthily, Mizuho made her way down the mountain, in a different direction from Mitsuko, searching for somebody, anybody, to ask about Megumi and the danger zones.
((Mizuho Inada continued in Breakdown))
She looked around. The sun was up, now. She'd made it. Just like she'd thought, she'd made it. It warmed her, revitalized her. The problem was, it also stripped her of her goal, her motivation. What now? She was tempted to just sit here, waiting, until someone came along and killed her or the platform became a danger zone. She was feeling terminally apathetic.
Just then, a voice boomed out, from everywhere and nowhere. Mizuho jerked. What was it? Some new trick? Demons? Monsters?
No. Just an announcement. They'd been told about those back in the classroom.
"Good morning my brave little warriors! My, have you not been busy? <3"
Kamon's voice. Mizuho clenched her hands. And what was he saying? Her classmates had been playing. Many were dead. Mizuho didn't even pay that much attention to them. She couldn't change anything. Nothing she could do would matter. She didn't care, until...
"...Seto not long afterwards. Female Student #3 Megumi Eto was wasted, and in our final kill of this six hour win..."
Megumi! Megumi, one of Mizuho's few friends, was dead. Dead and... gone? How was that even possible? Megumi was gone. Ended. No more. There would be no more joking around at lunch, no more giggling and playing. No more anything. Megumi was dead. Who did that even leave? Kaori, Mayumi, and Yoshio, and Mizuho wasn't even all that familiar with the latter two. She wasn't a popular girl. She didn't have many friends. What could she do? They were all going to die.
Yes, maybe. Or maybe all but one. Who would that last survivor be? It had to be someone good. It had to. Not someone like Souma, or Kawada. Someone decent. A Yoshio or Kaori. Mizuho had to make sure of that.
And, and, and people had to be punished, too. Someone had killed Megumi. Poor Megumi, who never hurt anyone. That person... that person was the worst in the world. There was nothing more sick, more vile. Mizuho would find Megumi's killer, and she would make that person pay.
She envisioned herself, clad in red robes, carrying a sword, walking slowly, surely towards a shadowy figure on the ground. The figure screamed for mercy, claimed it hadn't meant it, but there could be no mercy, none except quick retribution, for Megumi was dead, and not coming back.
Energized once again, Mizuho stood up and looked around from the platform, hoping she'd be able to see somebody. There was no one, though. Her classmates were too smart to stand in the open. She'd have to move around to find them. Mizuho quickly thought back to the announcement. She thought she could remember the danger zones alright. She'd just have to be extra careful, and get them from someone who'd been paying more attention.
Stealthily, Mizuho made her way down the mountain, in a different direction from Mitsuko, searching for somebody, anybody, to ask about Megumi and the danger zones.
((Mizuho Inada continued in Breakdown))
OOC: Yikes! That Dream Sequence came out longer then I realised... might have to post this in chunks. Forgive me about the upcoming multiple posts.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
"Good morning my brave little warriors! My, have you not been busy?”
Contrary to popular belief, when somebody wakes up from a particularly bad nightmare they don’t jump up screaming in terror. Instead, they lie down scared shitless wondering what the hell to do next, which was what Ryuhei was doing at that exact moment. He wasn’t sure which woke him up, the announcement or the dream. Either way, all he could do now was put the events of what happened in the dream to the back of his head and get on with surviving this sick game.
With that, he got up and had a quick breakfast after his hunger from yesterday began to catch up on him. As he did so, he listened with interest to the announcement as his mentioned the names of all the students who’d died the night before. None of them particularly stuck out, although he was somewhat bothered by the fact that Keita’s name was listed first. He avoided thinking about the unfortunate implications as he took a bite out of his Government Issue bread.
After he'd satisfied his hunger, he decided that the best thing to do would be climb the mountain and scan the area from the viewing platform. Maybe from there he could find some building to hold up in for safety, or... Something. He kinda made it up as he went along. With that said and done, he packed his bag and headed up the mountain.
It took a while, longer then he thought it would, but eventually he made it up to the top. He didn't notice any of the subtle hints of the struggle from last earlier, which he was still blissfully unaware of. Instead, he looked out from the viewing platform, observing the entirety of the island. Damn. I can see the whole friggin' island from up here! Shame there all those fuckin' trees in the way... Then, when looking to the west, he saw exactly what he was looking for.
A lighthouse! Perfect! I can hold out there, at least until it becomes a dangerzone... Probably have tons of equipment and shit, and a comfy bed too! He'd decided then and there that he'd head to the lighthouse. And, without further ado, he grabbed his bag and headed in the general direction of the lighthouse.
His only worry was that someone else may have gotten the same idea too.
((Ryuhei Sasagawa continued in Don't go into the Light))
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010