Vahka looked down at Paisley's body. "Had to stop him from stabbing her, once. Vince. Saw her move in a window and went for his knife. Didn't give a good goddamn who she was."
He shrugged the cloak from his shoulders and let Yagmur see his wounds, and the gun so pointedly hanging free rather than aimed up at him. "Coulda shot ya. Coulda taken any hit you can give. Coulda done a lot, but I came open and honest. For Pia. For her," he noted, gesturing to Paisley. "For you. I didn't level the gun here, Yags."
Vahka glanced towards the door. "Leave her out here and somebody will come along and loot 'er. Or worse. She deserves better."
The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
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"You don't think I know that?" Yagmur yelled, instinctively raising his gun again in anger. He realised what he'd done after a second or two to process it, and returned it to its original position.
Vahka was stating the obvious, or repeating what Yagmur had said, or whatever. Yagmur didn't appreciate it. "You don't think I know that I can't just leave her body out here? You don't think I know that she deserves better? You don't think I was trying to think of a better alternative? That's why I fucking asked you. I think I made that pretty goddamn clear."
"So, are you gonna help?"
Vahka was stating the obvious, or repeating what Yagmur had said, or whatever. Yagmur didn't appreciate it. "You don't think I know that I can't just leave her body out here? You don't think I know that she deserves better? You don't think I was trying to think of a better alternative? That's why I fucking asked you. I think I made that pretty goddamn clear."
"So, are you gonna help?"
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
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Tension filled his body as Yagmur raised the gun again, but it quickly receded as he took a modicum of control back. He was wired, that was for sure. It was good to dance around exactly what he'd promised. They could build from here.
Vahka gave a quick nod back towards the door. "Map says it's the Ice Palace, right? It's cold as shit out. We can find somewhere in there that's nice, secluded, and chilly where she'll be left alone until they come to clean up. Might be found, but odds are better than out here."
He scratched his chin idly. "Anybody else around? Not too fond of surprises these days, so it'd be good to know before we move."
Vahka gave a quick nod back towards the door. "Map says it's the Ice Palace, right? It's cold as shit out. We can find somewhere in there that's nice, secluded, and chilly where she'll be left alone until they come to clean up. Might be found, but odds are better than out here."
He scratched his chin idly. "Anybody else around? Not too fond of surprises these days, so it'd be good to know before we move."
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
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Yagmur was being stupid, and gullible, and sheepish, and meek, and sentimental, and weak-willed, and everything else he hated.
And he was well aware of that. He was probably making a mistake. His family, if they were watching this show and not honouring the rather obvious fact that he'd prefer them not to be, were probably screaming at the screen in frustration, one way or another, at the very least demanding him to stop hesitating.
Or maybe they, and everyone else watching, had seen the truth about Vahka, been able to judge his claims, and were using their outside knowledge to beg Yagmur to either cooperate or to shoot Vahka in the face.
Or maybe the audience hated Yagmur - his rude attitude to them would certainly make that a possibility - and were yelling on Vahka to gut him like a fish.
Yagmur didn't know. Maybe if he survived he'd get the hindsight the audience enjoyed in the form of heavily manipulated footage, but whatever.
He had to judge his gut.
His gut said not to trust Vahka.
His emotions were kinda overruling it.
Finally, he relented to his emotions (he knew better than to say his heart was overruling his gut - it wasn't even his gut, really, it was just a dilemma between two strands of his mind). "I'm with Regina, Bella, and Tu-Regina and Bella. Tucker saw his sister die."
And he was well aware of that. He was probably making a mistake. His family, if they were watching this show and not honouring the rather obvious fact that he'd prefer them not to be, were probably screaming at the screen in frustration, one way or another, at the very least demanding him to stop hesitating.
Or maybe they, and everyone else watching, had seen the truth about Vahka, been able to judge his claims, and were using their outside knowledge to beg Yagmur to either cooperate or to shoot Vahka in the face.
Or maybe the audience hated Yagmur - his rude attitude to them would certainly make that a possibility - and were yelling on Vahka to gut him like a fish.
Yagmur didn't know. Maybe if he survived he'd get the hindsight the audience enjoyed in the form of heavily manipulated footage, but whatever.
He had to judge his gut.
His gut said not to trust Vahka.
His emotions were kinda overruling it.
Finally, he relented to his emotions (he knew better than to say his heart was overruling his gut - it wasn't even his gut, really, it was just a dilemma between two strands of his mind). "I'm with Regina, Bella, and Tu-Regina and Bella. Tucker saw his sister die."
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
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Crazy how much emotion could be bound up in one little sentence. Just a few words, but it stirred up a hell of a lot.
She was in there. She'd killed Paisley, and he stayed with her. Reggie stayed with her. They were all together like nothing happened, even with Pais lying dead in his arms, and he had the fucking gall to say that he was the one who changed. Goddamn if that wasn't the cherry on top of the batshit sundae.
At the same time, Reggie was in there. He hadn't seen a sign of her since he'd woken up. He'd tried not to think about her too much, just like everybody else that mattered. That would just get in the way. Wasn't any different now. He couldn't afford to think about whether moving against this Bella chick would get her, or Yagmur, caught in the crossfire.
Maybe, if things were different. Maybe if they'd found each other. Maybe if he'd never had to promise Pia anything. Maybe if they'd never harbored their friend's killer.
There were a lot of maybes he could float around at this point, and a lot of regrets about what was to come. Right now though, he knew what needed to be done. That was the point of the act: You do what needs to be done. No matter where it leads.
He channeled his frustration into a grimace. "Jesus. Nobody should have to watch that. Nobody."
She was in there. She'd killed Paisley, and he stayed with her. Reggie stayed with her. They were all together like nothing happened, even with Pais lying dead in his arms, and he had the fucking gall to say that he was the one who changed. Goddamn if that wasn't the cherry on top of the batshit sundae.
At the same time, Reggie was in there. He hadn't seen a sign of her since he'd woken up. He'd tried not to think about her too much, just like everybody else that mattered. That would just get in the way. Wasn't any different now. He couldn't afford to think about whether moving against this Bella chick would get her, or Yagmur, caught in the crossfire.
Maybe, if things were different. Maybe if they'd found each other. Maybe if he'd never had to promise Pia anything. Maybe if they'd never harbored their friend's killer.
There were a lot of maybes he could float around at this point, and a lot of regrets about what was to come. Right now though, he knew what needed to be done. That was the point of the act: You do what needs to be done. No matter where it leads.
He channeled his frustration into a grimace. "Jesus. Nobody should have to watch that. Nobody."
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
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((GMing approved))
"Yep. From what I gather...it was everybody's fault. Things spiralled out of control. I dunno." He didn't want to condemn anybody with his words, and didn't want to admit the circumstances of what went down were still foreign for him. He decided to speak in vague platitudes, that shouldn't be too controversial.
It was an uncharacteristic move. There was a time and place for boldness, and describing the circumstances surrounding Paisley's death were not it.
He was saving his boldness for now.
"If you wanna go in with me, give me your gun. You can keep the rest of your weapons."
"Now I'm afraid I can't do that, Yags."
Yagmur clicked his tongue in frustration, making sure to keep his gun steady, his posture not exactly threatening but clear that he would respond with extreme prejudice to any sudden movements.
"Listen - if it was just me on the line, I'd trust you. And I'll vouch for you. Keep you safe, so long as you don't use any of your other weapons," Yagmur nodded towards the Zweihander. It was clear Vahka was not exactly lacking in weaponry. "You can bury it in the snow, somewhere safe. It won't get stolen."
"Gun doesn't leave my side. Pia gave it to me. We've grown kinda attached. Not like you're gonna ditch yours, are you?"
"No. I don't have any other weapons, bar a jar of baconnaise." He patted the side of the bag slumped around his shoulder with his bad hand. "It's shit before you ask. How about you just take out the clip - you can leave a bullet in the chamber or whatever - and then you carry in Paisley?"
"Alright. I'll take Pais, and you can take the clip. But you're goin' in front of me, and meetin' any surprises."
Yagmur was hesitant. "Fine. But I keep my eye on you, and keep my distance, and we're fine."
And that was what they did.
"Yep. From what I gather...it was everybody's fault. Things spiralled out of control. I dunno." He didn't want to condemn anybody with his words, and didn't want to admit the circumstances of what went down were still foreign for him. He decided to speak in vague platitudes, that shouldn't be too controversial.
It was an uncharacteristic move. There was a time and place for boldness, and describing the circumstances surrounding Paisley's death were not it.
He was saving his boldness for now.
"If you wanna go in with me, give me your gun. You can keep the rest of your weapons."
"Now I'm afraid I can't do that, Yags."
Yagmur clicked his tongue in frustration, making sure to keep his gun steady, his posture not exactly threatening but clear that he would respond with extreme prejudice to any sudden movements.
"Listen - if it was just me on the line, I'd trust you. And I'll vouch for you. Keep you safe, so long as you don't use any of your other weapons," Yagmur nodded towards the Zweihander. It was clear Vahka was not exactly lacking in weaponry. "You can bury it in the snow, somewhere safe. It won't get stolen."
"Gun doesn't leave my side. Pia gave it to me. We've grown kinda attached. Not like you're gonna ditch yours, are you?"
"No. I don't have any other weapons, bar a jar of baconnaise." He patted the side of the bag slumped around his shoulder with his bad hand. "It's shit before you ask. How about you just take out the clip - you can leave a bullet in the chamber or whatever - and then you carry in Paisley?"
"Alright. I'll take Pais, and you can take the clip. But you're goin' in front of me, and meetin' any surprises."
Yagmur was hesitant. "Fine. But I keep my eye on you, and keep my distance, and we're fine."
And that was what they did.
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Wham Yubeesling
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“Hmm…”
Michael looked around the room to find a place where they could hide the corpse for the time being. They needed the place to be clean if they wanted to set up shop here, and chances were one of them was going to have to kill someone while they were here. Looking around, the only place that he could probably move a body to was the staff room, since it was out of the way and not immediately seeable by anyone entering through the front door.
“Let’s use the staff room, nobody will be able to see it from the front-“ He was interrupted by two people coming through the door.
Turns out that they weren’t the only people in the ice palace.
The first person was someone he knew from school, Yagmur Tekindor. He was a hard worker, although he tended to focus towards the more practical subjects, such as woodworking and Shop Class. Michael didn’t mind him though, so long as he wasn’t drunk. Although he didn’t watch SOTF-TV, instead focusing on some comedy show, he was okay to talk to, and it was safe to say that they were friends.
The other person was also someone he knew, but was wary of. Vahka Basayev was a person that he knew in passing, and talked to every once in a while, but he wasn’t someone he’d call a friend. He knew that he had a passion for the Renaissance, and that he didn’t approve of SOTF-TV.
What he did know, however, was that he killed three people, and considering the way the announcements worded it, they weren’t accidents.
Michael really didn’t know how he was supposed to react to this. Vahka was a psychopath, judging from what Zoe had told him about her experiences in the game with him, and at any moment he could attack Michael and overpower him.
He decided to go into the conversation casually, to delay what could potentially happen and give him time to get out the door.
“Hey.”
Michael looked around the room to find a place where they could hide the corpse for the time being. They needed the place to be clean if they wanted to set up shop here, and chances were one of them was going to have to kill someone while they were here. Looking around, the only place that he could probably move a body to was the staff room, since it was out of the way and not immediately seeable by anyone entering through the front door.
“Let’s use the staff room, nobody will be able to see it from the front-“ He was interrupted by two people coming through the door.
Turns out that they weren’t the only people in the ice palace.
The first person was someone he knew from school, Yagmur Tekindor. He was a hard worker, although he tended to focus towards the more practical subjects, such as woodworking and Shop Class. Michael didn’t mind him though, so long as he wasn’t drunk. Although he didn’t watch SOTF-TV, instead focusing on some comedy show, he was okay to talk to, and it was safe to say that they were friends.
The other person was also someone he knew, but was wary of. Vahka Basayev was a person that he knew in passing, and talked to every once in a while, but he wasn’t someone he’d call a friend. He knew that he had a passion for the Renaissance, and that he didn’t approve of SOTF-TV.
What he did know, however, was that he killed three people, and considering the way the announcements worded it, they weren’t accidents.
Michael really didn’t know how he was supposed to react to this. Vahka was a psychopath, judging from what Zoe had told him about her experiences in the game with him, and at any moment he could attack Michael and overpower him.
He decided to go into the conversation casually, to delay what could potentially happen and give him time to get out the door.
“Hey.”
Michael started mentioning the staff room as a possible place to hide it, but of course someone decides to barge in, Second time someone has done that.
Yagmur wasn't someone Zoe interacted with much back home, she knew a bit about him, he hung out with Vahka, liked to drink and had lost a few fingers, outside of that though she didn't know that about him, And speaking of which.
Vahka had kept himself busy, running around with her sword and killing people, even his own friends, with how he had been going around acting like an over the top villain for the cameras there was no surprise he looked like shit. In her mind, he was to blame for all the things that had happened to her after their encounter, a convenient scapegoat to keep the blame off herself.
Michael was trying to be casual about this; Zoe on the other hand was not. She quickly got up on her feet and pointed her bat at them.
"You! What are you doing here!?"
Yagmur wasn't someone Zoe interacted with much back home, she knew a bit about him, he hung out with Vahka, liked to drink and had lost a few fingers, outside of that though she didn't know that about him, And speaking of which.
Vahka had kept himself busy, running around with her sword and killing people, even his own friends, with how he had been going around acting like an over the top villain for the cameras there was no surprise he looked like shit. In her mind, he was to blame for all the things that had happened to her after their encounter, a convenient scapegoat to keep the blame off herself.
Michael was trying to be casual about this; Zoe on the other hand was not. She quickly got up on her feet and pointed her bat at them.
"You! What are you doing here!?"
(Adopted from Espional)
Bella said nothing as Regina talked. She only put on a small smile, even if she had to force her muscles a bit. When Regina touched her shoulder, she flinched a bit and let it falter. But the smile still remained.
She wanted to talk about Will, and the reason why she and Yagmur went after Gene. It seemed like so long ago, didn’t it? Seeing Will laying still inside Aidan’s arms, and then seeing Gene dead at her feet. It seemed like a lot of time had passed since then, even if it was… a few hours? More?
Bella wanted to talk about who Will was, and why she had to find his killer. To her, he was more than a name, or a face in the hallways.
There were a lot of people she could talk about. Aidan, Jaxon, Lisa, Eden, and Shadi. She felt like she failed each of them, every time. No matter what she did, it resulted in someone dying she could have saved or done something for, or anything. She left Aidan alone. Jaxon and Lisa were here, but she didn't know until the announcements. She let Eden wander off. And Shadi... Shadi... she could have looked harder. Found her. Kept her safe, found out how she got four kills exactly. But she didn't. She barely looked.
Regina had also lost someone. Gene had killed her friend, right in front of her. Bella knew he killed a girl before they had caught up to him. The announcements, as always, mentioned it. Was that her? Regina’s friend?
Did Regina have the same thoughts as she did when she saw him do it? It seemed like it. Maybe she had wanted to see him die back then, too. She’d come to the same conclusion that the boy who hurt her and her friend needed to die. And not just for vengeance, but if Gene hadn’t died he could have killed more. Ten kills. It wouldn’t have been too surprising.
Paisley had attacked them, too. Even if it hurt, she stopped a murder in progress. It just became a different one.
She understood what Regina was saying. And yet, she couldn’t help but think of what could have been done differently. Even if there was no other choice, or if it had been the right option.
Bella barely felt the bottle pulled from her hands, and replaced with a sandwich. When she saw Regina drinking from her bottle, she said nothing. She wanted to. But she couldn’t.
A series of noises interrupted her thoughts, like a knife to the skull.
Someone was clattering about not too far from the staff room. Bella lifted her head, and listened closely. It sounded like there could be more people, so it might not just be Yagmur.
Bella brushed the sandwich off her lap, and with aching muscles pulled herself up.
“Regina” she whispered. “I’m going to see what that noise is.”
Bella walked over to the door, pogo stick in one hand. Her other hand, shaking, inched towards the handle, only to pull it open in a swift movement. Bella took a deep breath, and softly stepped towards the café.
The voices got louder as she approached, along with the stench once again drifting towards her nose. It didn’t seem violent, until she heard a girl yell. She didn’t want someone here, it seemed. Bella once again pictured all sorts of scenarios that could be happening right now.
Soon she got close enough, and saw that along with Yagmur, three people had shown up. None of them were Davison. There was a tall, muscular boy, wearing a cape and holding what appeared to be- was that a sword? It had to be. Bella searched through her mind for any deaths by sword, but she couldn’t remember what the announcements said. Not when her thoughts were racing.
The other two were a boy and a girl. The boy was shorter, but the girl was tall, and currently waving a bat around.
It had potential to become violent quickly.
Bella stood still for a beat. Another deep breath. Then she pulled herself closer to the wall.
She hoped that they didn’t notice her. Unfortunately, they probably did. It wasn’t easy to miss a frilly dress and a pole with a pony’s head on it.
She wanted to talk about Will, and the reason why she and Yagmur went after Gene. It seemed like so long ago, didn’t it? Seeing Will laying still inside Aidan’s arms, and then seeing Gene dead at her feet. It seemed like a lot of time had passed since then, even if it was… a few hours? More?
Bella wanted to talk about who Will was, and why she had to find his killer. To her, he was more than a name, or a face in the hallways.
There were a lot of people she could talk about. Aidan, Jaxon, Lisa, Eden, and Shadi. She felt like she failed each of them, every time. No matter what she did, it resulted in someone dying she could have saved or done something for, or anything. She left Aidan alone. Jaxon and Lisa were here, but she didn't know until the announcements. She let Eden wander off. And Shadi... Shadi... she could have looked harder. Found her. Kept her safe, found out how she got four kills exactly. But she didn't. She barely looked.
Regina had also lost someone. Gene had killed her friend, right in front of her. Bella knew he killed a girl before they had caught up to him. The announcements, as always, mentioned it. Was that her? Regina’s friend?
Did Regina have the same thoughts as she did when she saw him do it? It seemed like it. Maybe she had wanted to see him die back then, too. She’d come to the same conclusion that the boy who hurt her and her friend needed to die. And not just for vengeance, but if Gene hadn’t died he could have killed more. Ten kills. It wouldn’t have been too surprising.
Paisley had attacked them, too. Even if it hurt, she stopped a murder in progress. It just became a different one.
She understood what Regina was saying. And yet, she couldn’t help but think of what could have been done differently. Even if there was no other choice, or if it had been the right option.
Bella barely felt the bottle pulled from her hands, and replaced with a sandwich. When she saw Regina drinking from her bottle, she said nothing. She wanted to. But she couldn’t.
A series of noises interrupted her thoughts, like a knife to the skull.
Someone was clattering about not too far from the staff room. Bella lifted her head, and listened closely. It sounded like there could be more people, so it might not just be Yagmur.
Bella brushed the sandwich off her lap, and with aching muscles pulled herself up.
“Regina” she whispered. “I’m going to see what that noise is.”
Bella walked over to the door, pogo stick in one hand. Her other hand, shaking, inched towards the handle, only to pull it open in a swift movement. Bella took a deep breath, and softly stepped towards the café.
The voices got louder as she approached, along with the stench once again drifting towards her nose. It didn’t seem violent, until she heard a girl yell. She didn’t want someone here, it seemed. Bella once again pictured all sorts of scenarios that could be happening right now.
Soon she got close enough, and saw that along with Yagmur, three people had shown up. None of them were Davison. There was a tall, muscular boy, wearing a cape and holding what appeared to be- was that a sword? It had to be. Bella searched through her mind for any deaths by sword, but she couldn’t remember what the announcements said. Not when her thoughts were racing.
The other two were a boy and a girl. The boy was shorter, but the girl was tall, and currently waving a bat around.
It had potential to become violent quickly.
Bella stood still for a beat. Another deep breath. Then she pulled herself closer to the wall.
She hoped that they didn’t notice her. Unfortunately, they probably did. It wasn’t easy to miss a frilly dress and a pole with a pony’s head on it.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
A whole lot happened at once after Yags led him inside.
Zoe stepped up with a new friend and a baseball bat. With the way she was waving it around, she wasn't too happy to see him. Made sense, in away. He wasn't too sure what happened with Monkey and that other fella she was hanging around with, but he'd be pissed to be left with 'em too.
Her partner seemed to be a little more level-headed. He sorta remembered the guy from around school, but couldn't quite place him. In spite of Zoe's hysterics, he was running pretty calm. That wasn't a good sign. People weren't that relaxed here unless they had something up their sleeves.
He'd make his move first.
When Yagmur had taken his clip, he'd put his cloak back on. The grenade had slipped out of his pocket, with one thick finger sliding into the pin. Just in case he got a chance. A chance like the girl he assumed to be Bella walking out as Zoe called out to him.
Reggie was behind her. Close, too close to make it out. For a second, he hesitated.
A toothy grin flashed in Zoe's direction. "Lookin' for her," he rumbled, nodding towards Bella, using the sound of his voice to cover the pin being pulled.
He held the fuse for one, two seconds. Then the rolled the grenade out towards the girls. In a moment, Paisley's body went soaring towards Yagmur as hard as he could throw it.
It should have gone off quick, shaking right to Bella's feet and taking her out before the others had a chance to react. Maybe he could have bailed in the confusion. Maybe he could have gotten the drop on Yagmur and took him down before the dust settled. If things had just gone a little differently, he'd have walked away.
But for a moment, when he nodded to Bella, Reggie caught his eyes. She stared right at him, through him, and made a decision he'd never get the chance to understand.
By the time the grenade hit the ground, she was already running. Bella had been forced to the side, and her hands were reaching down to cup that little bouncing package up, intercepting it right between the three groups. He didn't know what she planned to do with it. Maybe she didn't either.
As soon as she laid hands on it, an explosion filled his ears and the world went white.
Zoe stepped up with a new friend and a baseball bat. With the way she was waving it around, she wasn't too happy to see him. Made sense, in away. He wasn't too sure what happened with Monkey and that other fella she was hanging around with, but he'd be pissed to be left with 'em too.
Her partner seemed to be a little more level-headed. He sorta remembered the guy from around school, but couldn't quite place him. In spite of Zoe's hysterics, he was running pretty calm. That wasn't a good sign. People weren't that relaxed here unless they had something up their sleeves.
He'd make his move first.
When Yagmur had taken his clip, he'd put his cloak back on. The grenade had slipped out of his pocket, with one thick finger sliding into the pin. Just in case he got a chance. A chance like the girl he assumed to be Bella walking out as Zoe called out to him.
Reggie was behind her. Close, too close to make it out. For a second, he hesitated.
A toothy grin flashed in Zoe's direction. "Lookin' for her," he rumbled, nodding towards Bella, using the sound of his voice to cover the pin being pulled.
He held the fuse for one, two seconds. Then the rolled the grenade out towards the girls. In a moment, Paisley's body went soaring towards Yagmur as hard as he could throw it.
It should have gone off quick, shaking right to Bella's feet and taking her out before the others had a chance to react. Maybe he could have bailed in the confusion. Maybe he could have gotten the drop on Yagmur and took him down before the dust settled. If things had just gone a little differently, he'd have walked away.
But for a moment, when he nodded to Bella, Reggie caught his eyes. She stared right at him, through him, and made a decision he'd never get the chance to understand.
By the time the grenade hit the ground, she was already running. Bella had been forced to the side, and her hands were reaching down to cup that little bouncing package up, intercepting it right between the three groups. He didn't know what she planned to do with it. Maybe she didn't either.
As soon as she laid hands on it, an explosion filled his ears and the world went white.
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Wham Yubeesling
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He never should have come here.
Zoe, not one for subtlety, shouted at Vahka, asking what he was doing here. Two more people entered the room. One was from the other school; the other person was someone he knew. Regina Aston. Someone who was actually a close friend of his, and a social butterfly type person who-
“Oh shit.”
The grenade hit the floor, and Michael started backing away quickly. He had to get out of here before all hell broke loose, but turning around would result in him being prime target for an attack. He had to take it slowly, one step at a time. He didn’t pay too much attention to what was going on, didn’t pay attention to Regina putting the grenade between herself and Vahka, he just kept his eyes on the grenade, making sure it didn’t move anywhere near him.
Then the grenade exploded, and something had hit him in the stomach.
Pain filled his body as he hit the ground, face first. The shrapnel pushed itself deeper into his body, and blood started pouring out. Everything had erupted around him. Regina was dead, and Yagmur was struggling with holding the body of Paisley Hopkins.
But somehow, Michael was still alive. The pain from the shrapnel had filled his entire body, but he couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry. The whole country was watching him, and he couldn’t prove them right. The chance was low, but he could still do this, he could make it out alive, and he could still win this.
So he crawled, he was close to a wall, and when he reached it, he hoisted himself up. The shrapnel was still lodged into his stomach, and the pain was getting worse. He took a moment to breathe, he was never athletic, and doing large amounts of physical labour made him exhausted.
He looked down.
Michael was always a bit squeamish about the gore of SOTF-TV, and while he liked the atmosphere and character (as well as the video games, SOTF-Combat was his favourite series), the frequent violence and gore commonly turned him off, and made him leave with an ambivalent feeling for the show. He pretended that he liked it, though, since it was popular with the people at his school. He liked it, but he always turned his head away when it was time for someone to die.
But when he looked down, he couldn’t turn his head away.
The shrapnel had basically torn his stomach apart. Blood and acid was leaking out of it, and there was a trail of it from where he had first hit the ground. He was feeling faint, and the edges of tiredness were surrounding his eyes.
He was dying. There was no way he could be saved, he was beyond repair.
…Ha.
During his time on the resort, Michael dreaded what he had to do. He didn’t want to kill people he considered friends, as he felt that doing so would make him lose his morality, lose the people that he cared for, make people lose faith in him. But he knew that he would have had to at one point. Nobody got out of here without killing at least one person, and he knew that he couldn’t pull off an escape attempt. He had made choices, all throughout his resort time. Bring Lily and Valerie with him. Go with his team rather than find Lily again. Lie to Lily.
But now he didn’t have to kill. There was another choice all along. Die here and he didn’t have to kill.
If this wasn’t SOTF, and if this wasn’t him, he’d be laughing right now. He had acted like he was going to win all this time, and that death was something that’d never happen to him. He had acted like he had to kill someone all this time, but as it turned out, now he didn’t have to. There was a choice all along, and he had now picked an option.
And he would now act on it for the rest of his life.
And as Michael Robinson bled out on the floor, he realized that he never had to kill, and that he had selected the right choice all this time.
Zoe, not one for subtlety, shouted at Vahka, asking what he was doing here. Two more people entered the room. One was from the other school; the other person was someone he knew. Regina Aston. Someone who was actually a close friend of his, and a social butterfly type person who-
“Oh shit.”
The grenade hit the floor, and Michael started backing away quickly. He had to get out of here before all hell broke loose, but turning around would result in him being prime target for an attack. He had to take it slowly, one step at a time. He didn’t pay too much attention to what was going on, didn’t pay attention to Regina putting the grenade between herself and Vahka, he just kept his eyes on the grenade, making sure it didn’t move anywhere near him.
Then the grenade exploded, and something had hit him in the stomach.
Pain filled his body as he hit the ground, face first. The shrapnel pushed itself deeper into his body, and blood started pouring out. Everything had erupted around him. Regina was dead, and Yagmur was struggling with holding the body of Paisley Hopkins.
But somehow, Michael was still alive. The pain from the shrapnel had filled his entire body, but he couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry. The whole country was watching him, and he couldn’t prove them right. The chance was low, but he could still do this, he could make it out alive, and he could still win this.
So he crawled, he was close to a wall, and when he reached it, he hoisted himself up. The shrapnel was still lodged into his stomach, and the pain was getting worse. He took a moment to breathe, he was never athletic, and doing large amounts of physical labour made him exhausted.
He looked down.
Michael was always a bit squeamish about the gore of SOTF-TV, and while he liked the atmosphere and character (as well as the video games, SOTF-Combat was his favourite series), the frequent violence and gore commonly turned him off, and made him leave with an ambivalent feeling for the show. He pretended that he liked it, though, since it was popular with the people at his school. He liked it, but he always turned his head away when it was time for someone to die.
But when he looked down, he couldn’t turn his head away.
The shrapnel had basically torn his stomach apart. Blood and acid was leaking out of it, and there was a trail of it from where he had first hit the ground. He was feeling faint, and the edges of tiredness were surrounding his eyes.
He was dying. There was no way he could be saved, he was beyond repair.
…Ha.
During his time on the resort, Michael dreaded what he had to do. He didn’t want to kill people he considered friends, as he felt that doing so would make him lose his morality, lose the people that he cared for, make people lose faith in him. But he knew that he would have had to at one point. Nobody got out of here without killing at least one person, and he knew that he couldn’t pull off an escape attempt. He had made choices, all throughout his resort time. Bring Lily and Valerie with him. Go with his team rather than find Lily again. Lie to Lily.
But now he didn’t have to kill. There was another choice all along. Die here and he didn’t have to kill.
If this wasn’t SOTF, and if this wasn’t him, he’d be laughing right now. He had acted like he was going to win all this time, and that death was something that’d never happen to him. He had acted like he had to kill someone all this time, but as it turned out, now he didn’t have to. There was a choice all along, and he had now picked an option.
And he would now act on it for the rest of his life.
And as Michael Robinson bled out on the floor, he realized that he never had to kill, and that he had selected the right choice all this time.
SP5: MICHAEL ROBINSON JR: DECEASED
15 STUDENTS REMAIN
15 STUDENTS REMAIN
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General Goose
- Posts: 318
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:51 pm
CJ4: Regina "Reggie" Aston: DECEASED
That was the first thing Yagmur saw. The blast had torn her apart. If it wasn't from the process of elimination - Regina had been the closest to the grenade and everyone else was accounted for post-blast - he wouldn't have been able to identify the victim of Vahka's grenade blast.
Vahka.
Yagmur had fucked up again. He let his emotions, his STUPID belief that Vahka was temporarily neutralised as a threat and for a few moments they could let their friendship carry on as usual, get in the way of his judgement. He had unilaterally let a threat into the group, without giving Bella or Regina a say. He had gotten Regina killed, and hadn't even given her a chance to say anything or do anything beyond try and...
She'd tried to throw the grenade back, but it was too late. That was what had happened.
And Vahka had thrown Paisley on him.
The disrespect was just the salt on the wound, and had knocked him to the ground a split second before the blast. He didn't give a shit about Paisley's memory. And Yagmur had fucked up again. He couldn't even give a girl a semi-decent burial, or protect her corpse from further embarrassment.
As Yagmur pushed her body off him, he got a good look around. Michael Robinson was dead, or dying. Shrapnel. Beyond Yagmur's help either way. That was...well, he couldn't feel any worse emotionally if he tried. He was sad Michael had been caught up in this, but it was impossible for him to feel any more sad or distraught, so Michael's death only raised a pang of irritation. He knew it was insultingly meagre, but he'd mourn him later.
His own good hand had been hit by a bit of shrapnel. A jagged tiny chunk of something was sticking out of his thumb joint.
Paisley had saved him from the bulk of the shrapnel. Her back had taken everything that would have hit him otherwise.
Yagmur climbed to his feet.
He saw Vahka.
He raised his gun.
Vahka made eye contact. Yagmur kept his gaze, holding it with a steely determination that did not waver. He didn't bother reading the guy's emotions, or trying to say anything, or trying to defuse the situation with threatening or conciliatory body language.
Vahka bullrushed Yagmur.
Yagmur fired his gun.
He'd emptied the clip. Yagmur did not know how many bullets he'd fired, or how many had hit Vahka, and he wasn't even giving a split second's consideration to the collateral damage or penetration of his bullets. All he knew, all he could think about, was that he had stopped Vahka's charge.
Vahka had fallen to the ground, bleeding from God-knows-how-many shots to the torso.
But he was still alive, as far as Yagmur could tell.
He could do something about that.
Yagmur climbed on top of Vahka, his legs wrapping around his torso. There was no energy in his former best friend, no fight left, but his eyes were still moving, they were betraying his continued awareness. Yagmur clenched his good fist, protruding piece of shrapnel drawing more blood as the muscles clenched, and swung it into Vahka's face.
"You killed Regina!"
Another punch, this one a bit more spirited, a bit more precise, a bit more powerful.
"You killed Michael!"
Another punch. This one, the piece of shrapnel tore away from Yagmur's skin, letting loose a lot of blood, and embedded itself in Vahka's face.
"And Vincent and Pia and who knows who else!"
A few more punches, Yagmur lost count. Vahka's face was beginning to fall apart.
"You didn't give a fuck about Paisley, or me, or anyone else!"
The punches were getting more lethargic, more laboured, Yagmur having to take pauses between them to recover his breath, grimacing whenever the wound in his hand reminded him of its existence, the pain only subsiding with the adrenaline of another punch.
He couldn't tell if Vahka was still alive. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't.
Yagmur climbed to his feet, breathing heavily.
And the anger returned, and Yagmur let out a yell, and brought his foot down on Vahka's bloodied face. After a few kicks, he stepped back.
It was over.
That was the first thing Yagmur saw. The blast had torn her apart. If it wasn't from the process of elimination - Regina had been the closest to the grenade and everyone else was accounted for post-blast - he wouldn't have been able to identify the victim of Vahka's grenade blast.
Vahka.
Yagmur had fucked up again. He let his emotions, his STUPID belief that Vahka was temporarily neutralised as a threat and for a few moments they could let their friendship carry on as usual, get in the way of his judgement. He had unilaterally let a threat into the group, without giving Bella or Regina a say. He had gotten Regina killed, and hadn't even given her a chance to say anything or do anything beyond try and...
She'd tried to throw the grenade back, but it was too late. That was what had happened.
And Vahka had thrown Paisley on him.
The disrespect was just the salt on the wound, and had knocked him to the ground a split second before the blast. He didn't give a shit about Paisley's memory. And Yagmur had fucked up again. He couldn't even give a girl a semi-decent burial, or protect her corpse from further embarrassment.
As Yagmur pushed her body off him, he got a good look around. Michael Robinson was dead, or dying. Shrapnel. Beyond Yagmur's help either way. That was...well, he couldn't feel any worse emotionally if he tried. He was sad Michael had been caught up in this, but it was impossible for him to feel any more sad or distraught, so Michael's death only raised a pang of irritation. He knew it was insultingly meagre, but he'd mourn him later.
His own good hand had been hit by a bit of shrapnel. A jagged tiny chunk of something was sticking out of his thumb joint.
Paisley had saved him from the bulk of the shrapnel. Her back had taken everything that would have hit him otherwise.
Yagmur climbed to his feet.
He saw Vahka.
He raised his gun.
Vahka made eye contact. Yagmur kept his gaze, holding it with a steely determination that did not waver. He didn't bother reading the guy's emotions, or trying to say anything, or trying to defuse the situation with threatening or conciliatory body language.
Vahka bullrushed Yagmur.
Yagmur fired his gun.
He'd emptied the clip. Yagmur did not know how many bullets he'd fired, or how many had hit Vahka, and he wasn't even giving a split second's consideration to the collateral damage or penetration of his bullets. All he knew, all he could think about, was that he had stopped Vahka's charge.
Vahka had fallen to the ground, bleeding from God-knows-how-many shots to the torso.
But he was still alive, as far as Yagmur could tell.
He could do something about that.
Yagmur climbed on top of Vahka, his legs wrapping around his torso. There was no energy in his former best friend, no fight left, but his eyes were still moving, they were betraying his continued awareness. Yagmur clenched his good fist, protruding piece of shrapnel drawing more blood as the muscles clenched, and swung it into Vahka's face.
"You killed Regina!"
Another punch, this one a bit more spirited, a bit more precise, a bit more powerful.
"You killed Michael!"
Another punch. This one, the piece of shrapnel tore away from Yagmur's skin, letting loose a lot of blood, and embedded itself in Vahka's face.
"And Vincent and Pia and who knows who else!"
A few more punches, Yagmur lost count. Vahka's face was beginning to fall apart.
"You didn't give a fuck about Paisley, or me, or anyone else!"
The punches were getting more lethargic, more laboured, Yagmur having to take pauses between them to recover his breath, grimacing whenever the wound in his hand reminded him of its existence, the pain only subsiding with the adrenaline of another punch.
He couldn't tell if Vahka was still alive. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't.
Yagmur climbed to his feet, breathing heavily.
And the anger returned, and Yagmur let out a yell, and brought his foot down on Vahka's bloodied face. After a few kicks, he stepped back.
It was over.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
He was too close, when it went off. Too close and too big. Shrapnel had caught up to him easily. He was bleeding in more places than he cared to count. But he was still standing.
Turns out, once he got his wits about him, Yagmur was too. He was there, hefting himself out from under Pais and glaring into his eyes. One way or the other, it was over. Hell, it was over, and he knew how he was ending. That's why when he started to bear down on Yagmur, his face nearly split from the shining, manic grin that broke out.
The bullets made no sound as they tore through the air, and he felt nothing as the thumped into his chest. All he could feel was the creeping, cold edge seeping through his bones. All he could hear was the beating of wings, growing closer and closer.
He sunk to his knees, then to his back. Up in the roof of the Ice Palace, they circled, watching him. He couldn't move, even as he felt the weight of Yagmur climbing on top of him, felt his friend's unblinking, mad eyes boring into his skull.
Vahka did the only thing he could as the heavy fists began to rain down on his head. He smiled. He held his grin as wide and as proudly as he could, and looked past Yagmur to the ceiling. Blood began to pour down his face, stinging his swelling eyes and blocking out his vision, but he could still see them, still hear them beating closer.
He didn't want them to see him break. Not the crew. Not his father. Not Ronnie. Not his crows. So even now, as he felt the hammer blows loosening his teeth, tugging them out by the roots until they scattered to the floor, he kept grinning.
There was a roar, and the beating of wings was silenced.
Turns out, once he got his wits about him, Yagmur was too. He was there, hefting himself out from under Pais and glaring into his eyes. One way or the other, it was over. Hell, it was over, and he knew how he was ending. That's why when he started to bear down on Yagmur, his face nearly split from the shining, manic grin that broke out.
The bullets made no sound as they tore through the air, and he felt nothing as the thumped into his chest. All he could feel was the creeping, cold edge seeping through his bones. All he could hear was the beating of wings, growing closer and closer.
He sunk to his knees, then to his back. Up in the roof of the Ice Palace, they circled, watching him. He couldn't move, even as he felt the weight of Yagmur climbing on top of him, felt his friend's unblinking, mad eyes boring into his skull.
Vahka did the only thing he could as the heavy fists began to rain down on his head. He smiled. He held his grin as wide and as proudly as he could, and looked past Yagmur to the ceiling. Blood began to pour down his face, stinging his swelling eyes and blocking out his vision, but he could still see them, still hear them beating closer.
He didn't want them to see him break. Not the crew. Not his father. Not Ronnie. Not his crows. So even now, as he felt the hammer blows loosening his teeth, tugging them out by the roots until they scattered to the floor, he kept grinning.
There was a roar, and the beating of wings was silenced.
CS1: VAHKA BASAYEV: DECEASED
Then, there was only darkness. Darkness, and a smile.It didn't take long before all hell broke loose, Vahka had a grenade and he decided it was a smart idea to chuck it at the first person entering the room, then everything went wrong.
It was loud, her ears were ringing after the explosion and the only hint to her that she was injured was the sudden pain and blood coming from her leg. She crumpled to the floor holding her leg, a piece of shrapnel had embedded itself below the knee, it hurt like hell. At that moment she realized she had forgotten about Michael and looked over at where he was standing.
He was hunched over at the wall, dead.
The pain in her leg and the sudden loss of her teammate hit her, she felt tears seeping through, but she forced them back and took the closest substitute that she had at the moment, anger.
"Goddammit!" She slammed her right hand at the floor in frustration, her leg was fucked up and her teammate was dead, yet another encounter with Vahka that's ended badly for her.
It was loud, her ears were ringing after the explosion and the only hint to her that she was injured was the sudden pain and blood coming from her leg. She crumpled to the floor holding her leg, a piece of shrapnel had embedded itself below the knee, it hurt like hell. At that moment she realized she had forgotten about Michael and looked over at where he was standing.
He was hunched over at the wall, dead.
The pain in her leg and the sudden loss of her teammate hit her, she felt tears seeping through, but she forced them back and took the closest substitute that she had at the moment, anger.
"Goddammit!" She slammed her right hand at the floor in frustration, her leg was fucked up and her teammate was dead, yet another encounter with Vahka that's ended badly for her.
Her ears were ringing.
Bella sat curled underneath the counter Regina had pushed her behind, holding her head with both arms. For a moment, time seemed to stop. Then, almost distantly, there was the sound of gunshots, followed by shouting. Then, scuffling noises.
The entire time, Bella hid, keeping her eyes shut. The scuffling noises kept going for the longest time. It felt like eternity until it finally stopped.
For a minute, Bella didn’t move. Then, she opened her eyes.
She slowly slid from her curled position, and crawled on her shaking hands and knees. Her own loud breathing mixed with the ringing in her ears, much like the stenches lingering in the air. It smelled like burnt flesh, wood, and plastic, with a hint of gunpowder.
Without warning, a sharp pain hit her right hand as she crawled, and Bella cried in pain. She didn’t want to look. And yet, she did. Bella lifted her hand, and saw red streaks coming from her palm. Maybe she hurt her hand on a piece of debris. She didn’t know. But it didn’t make things better. For a moment, she stared at it, feeling the similar sensation of nausea worsen.
She poked her head around the corner, and wished she didn’t. The first thing she saw was one of the boys, stuffed full of shrapnel. The next was just closer to her: another body, this time unrecognizable. Regina? No, that couldn’t have been it. She didn’t want to think it was her. She didn’t know what she would do if it was her. Maybe it was just a pile of debris, shaped like a person’s body.
Bella felt herself breathing louder.
She turned her head. The girl with the bat was on the ground, though still moving. Still alive. Someone was standing, too. Her vision blurred and dimmed, making Bella squint to figure out who it was.
Yagmur. He was alive too.
Using the edge of the counter, she pulled herself up. Her legs almost gave out on her, forcing her to keep a grip on it. It seemed like everywhere she looked, there were dead bodies. Regina survived, she told herself. She’s hiding somewhere, and that’s not her body laying just a few feet away.
But it was. It was.
Bella was, once again, at a loss. She tightly squeezed her eyes closed, and opened them again. Nothing changed. She wasn’t sure what to do, or anything. But she did the only thing she could think of.
Her feet padded along the floor of the café, crunching glass underneath it. She stopped just a foot away from him. Close enough to talk. Hopefully not too close.
“Yagmur”, she said, softly. Taking a dry gulp, she repeated. “Yagmur….”
Then, she noticed another body at his feet. It was the boy with the cape, the one who… who…
Tried to kill them. She remembered now. A grenade, right towards her and Regina. Bella felt her fists clench at the memory. New emotions came to the surface when she saw the boy’s body. It reminded her of Gene and Paisley. It was raw, in much the same way. Raw, disgusted, angry.
“Are you… okay?” she asked, her voice low.
And yet, her eyes couldn’t separate from the boy on the ground.
Bella sat curled underneath the counter Regina had pushed her behind, holding her head with both arms. For a moment, time seemed to stop. Then, almost distantly, there was the sound of gunshots, followed by shouting. Then, scuffling noises.
The entire time, Bella hid, keeping her eyes shut. The scuffling noises kept going for the longest time. It felt like eternity until it finally stopped.
For a minute, Bella didn’t move. Then, she opened her eyes.
She slowly slid from her curled position, and crawled on her shaking hands and knees. Her own loud breathing mixed with the ringing in her ears, much like the stenches lingering in the air. It smelled like burnt flesh, wood, and plastic, with a hint of gunpowder.
Without warning, a sharp pain hit her right hand as she crawled, and Bella cried in pain. She didn’t want to look. And yet, she did. Bella lifted her hand, and saw red streaks coming from her palm. Maybe she hurt her hand on a piece of debris. She didn’t know. But it didn’t make things better. For a moment, she stared at it, feeling the similar sensation of nausea worsen.
She poked her head around the corner, and wished she didn’t. The first thing she saw was one of the boys, stuffed full of shrapnel. The next was just closer to her: another body, this time unrecognizable. Regina? No, that couldn’t have been it. She didn’t want to think it was her. She didn’t know what she would do if it was her. Maybe it was just a pile of debris, shaped like a person’s body.
Bella felt herself breathing louder.
She turned her head. The girl with the bat was on the ground, though still moving. Still alive. Someone was standing, too. Her vision blurred and dimmed, making Bella squint to figure out who it was.
Yagmur. He was alive too.
Using the edge of the counter, she pulled herself up. Her legs almost gave out on her, forcing her to keep a grip on it. It seemed like everywhere she looked, there were dead bodies. Regina survived, she told herself. She’s hiding somewhere, and that’s not her body laying just a few feet away.
But it was. It was.
Bella was, once again, at a loss. She tightly squeezed her eyes closed, and opened them again. Nothing changed. She wasn’t sure what to do, or anything. But she did the only thing she could think of.
Her feet padded along the floor of the café, crunching glass underneath it. She stopped just a foot away from him. Close enough to talk. Hopefully not too close.
“Yagmur”, she said, softly. Taking a dry gulp, she repeated. “Yagmur….”
Then, she noticed another body at his feet. It was the boy with the cape, the one who… who…
Tried to kill them. She remembered now. A grenade, right towards her and Regina. Bella felt her fists clench at the memory. New emotions came to the surface when she saw the boy’s body. It reminded her of Gene and Paisley. It was raw, in much the same way. Raw, disgusted, angry.
“Are you… okay?” she asked, her voice low.
And yet, her eyes couldn’t separate from the boy on the ground.