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15strangers2019-05-19 12:50 am
strangerpeople) wrote in 15strangers2019-05-19 12:50 am
Entry tags:
FINAL WEEK
[There are no new floors that open today.
No food, if you didn't bring any with you. No way to figure out how much more anyone can take of this. There's just no way to know. Half of your number are gone. Half of your number either betrayed, or were betrayed. It is overwhelming and terrible-and who knows what more is to come.
You can feel the shift in the air. The fear, the strain, the tension, between everyone who is left. What can anyone do? Is there any way out of this? Is everyone truly condemned, after all? Who will betray whom?
What will happen next?
There are seven strangers left in this place.]
((OOC NOTE: This post is your last chance to have your characters explore the Mansion and all of its corners for possible clues. After the Final Investigation is open on Thursday, the Mansion will still be accessible, but the Strangers will be unable to uncover any new clues-or alter their Nightmare levels-in Investigations or Encounters.
You have been warned.))
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You don't scare me!
[And he's going to try to punch the thing in the face with his noodly alchemist arms.]
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hUmanS arE always sCareD!! fEar is inVeitabLe. dEspAir iN feAr is truth. MADnesS is...aLL yOu have!!
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I'm the crocodile.
[Eric laughs, though it's more of an hysterical giggle. How's his shadow doing? Does it now have teeth?]
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The crocodile is not evil, nor is it good. It is not a monster, but nor is it a saint. To condemn it for it's nature would be cruel, but to deny that it is dangerous is just as cruel.
So. Eric has a choice.
Will the crocodile help Pan, or Hook?
...perhaps that isn't even really a choice. After all, Pan never made an enemy of the crocodile. Pan had only ever given the crocodile their favorite food.]
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[It's not 'codfish' but eh, details. He keeps punching. He doesn't know if it's doing anything. But hey, it's some much-needed venting and it keeps the thing's focus on him.
He has to count on the others to back him up. Like Eric's doing. It's only two of them against the FOE, they'll need support, but they have to hold out til support gets here. Arthur isn't a front line fighter but by Yggdrasil, here he is.
He is done with moral questions. He is tired of people dying. He is sick of everyone gradually losing their minds.
It's just like he said to Osomatsu - the only thing he knows is right anymore is making sure there won't be a 'next time'.]
cw: decapitation
Or maybe it's just because Arthur was so sick and tired, that there was nothing left to fear. Not from this madness. Not from this figure.
The figure just laughs, and after the sixth laugh, the mouth opens, revealing the dagger. But the seventh-the seventh actually does something completely unexpected.
Arthur's seventh punch actually causes the figure's head to pop off his neck like a doll.
Maybe it's not real. Maybe it's just another hallucination.
But by the way the figure's eyes suddenly bulge out-all three of them-and how its face contorts so, it's clear that this was not what the figure had expected.]
what is this...this isn't...fear...is this...another type of madness...
[The rest of the body looks ready to try and reunite with it.
Perhaps it's now time to end this.]
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We all know what happens to Hook. He is struck. He falls. "Bad form!" and then the jaws and then -
This is not a pantomime. This is not a stage.
This is worse. This is -
would he be Pan were he not innocent and cruel, as the world itself is? Does a beast that too knows nothing of
fright and wrong any longer have any other choice but to take his side?]no subject
Nothing hurts.
But there's still enough to him to look, to search - his eyes fall on Emma's soul, safe on the floor, out of the way, out of the thing's reach. Good. Eric, too, steady and insane at once, but standing steady at his back. Good.]
I dunno about madness. [He rises to his knees, keeping most of his weight on the thing's body. And one hand reaches for the head.] There's two kinds of mad, you know? I dunno where I'm going with this.
I just don't like you!
[Are we near the stairs? He'll keep his weight, it's not much but it's still the weight of a smallish human, pinning the body and throw the head - whether it's down the stairs or into the crocodile's eager, gaping maw, he doesn't care.]
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The figure's head stares at Arthur, before it starts to laugh again, almost defeated. The body stars to slump.]
ahaha...I wish I could cower. Whatever you're showing me here...it's not hatred, it's not fright...I'm afraid of it...I can only imagine what will happen next...!!
[Well, it's going towards the maw as it keeps laughing...]
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he looks up into the room, seeing Eric, and Arthur and... what's wrong with Emma? he shakes a bit]
What...?
[they're not... they couldn't be... that scream he heard...]
Miss Emma...!
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[He is speaking to
Hookthe head, not Osomatsu, though that may be unclear. If nothing else -Perhaps he's got it wrong after all, perhaps -
If nothing is real,anything can happen. If nothing is real, if nothing is real - his shadow has teeth, his shadow has jaws, and what are those for but devouring what is thrown their way?]
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First, the shadow eats the head, even as it laughs. There is a swallow, and then, it is gone.
Second, the body of the figure glows brightly, before it explodes, revealing a dark red soul with writhing red eyes that falls to the floor, not moving, its tail barely even wriggling.
??? is dead.
Third, there is...a change. A weight suddenly seems to lift off of everyone. Perhaps it's because the hallucinations of the eyes and blood disappear. Perhaps it's because there is an instinct in all of them that seems to feel the relief of having destroyed this figure, whoever they were.
Somehow, they know their Nightmares will not be so troubled anymore. Whatever was causing them to go mad is gone-even if the madness it engendered remains in them. Killing the villain doesn't simply make what happened disappear.
And lastly. Emma is still where she was dropped. Her breathing is starting to become halted as her eyes look around, going in and out of focus.
She doesn't have long to live.]
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Emma is, after all, a witch, and witches are always punished.
But...
At least now, with her final gasping breaths, she can see the faces of people she recognizes. People who put themselves at risk for her sake, despite everything. And knowing that... it's not happiness, she's beyond the ability to feel that, but it's a relief.
As her eyes slip closed and she exhales her last, it's with something nearing a smile.
Witches don't get rescued, but it's enough for her to go out knowing she was, in some small way, loved.]
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The haze of battle and the edge of madness is clearing away. Right...the house. Eric. Emma. Osomatsu there, pale, oh god when did he get here-
Emma.]
--Emma! Her soul- we gotta hurry! [He's heading for where her soul got left on the floor, with no idea how long they have, they just- They can't lose her!]
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What is Arthur trying to do?]
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For all his nyoom he's suddenly tiptoeing like a scared little kid....and just. Gently places her soul on her chest.]
....Please go back in...
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But...nothing happens. It doesn't get magically reabsorbed into her body. In this world, it appears that when this is taken out of the body, it can't be put back in. The damage was already done, and as the minutes go by, there is no change.
Emma Millstein, the Overboard, is dead.
And yet, despite that, her face is a mask of serenity and relief, without a shadow of regret, even in death. Though the others couldn't save her from dying, they still saved her, nevertheless. They still gave her something to bring with her.
Maybe that alone may be a comfort.]
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he doesn't even know what to do, other than to slump to his knees, eyes wide, jaw slack. what the hell? he still doesn't know what happened, or if Arthur or Eric is responsible for it. he doesn't think they are, though, because there is that other red soul sitting there.
something else hurt Emma. and even as he waits for her to respond, nothing happens. she lies there motionless. he wants to ask what happened but maybe now is... not the time. he looks at the others helplessly]
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It's just....taking a little while. She's stopped breathing, but she'll start again. Right? She has to. Arthur holds his own breath, like that'll make the seconds tick by more slowly.
It...really is taking awhile, haha.... Any moment now. Just a second or two more... It'll be fine. Just watch. In two seconds she'll open her eyes and chide him for his recklessness. And then snipe at Eric, and he'll snipe back, and it'll be business as usual around here again.
Soon.
Just a little longer.
Any... Any moment now...
...
Arthur's knees hit the floor. His eyes are watering, whether from being open for too long or because nothing has happened yet, he doesn't know. She's not... She's not breathing. She'd already stopped by the time he got it to her, hadn't she? If he'd been a little faster, or had focused on the important thing instead of her attacker...
Damn it. Just....]
Damn it!!!
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The boy is -
"Damn it, you know his name's Arthur. Get over there, you wouldn't've been able to take bein' alone...."
That painfully familiar voice is not accompanied by a body, thank God for small mercies. Eric groans, trying to fit together what feels like at least three different selves into a semblance of composure, of control - his balance is all wrong, even with the room closer to normal.
Is his shadow still animate? It's his shadow, and it might be able to reach the boy - to reach Arthur before he can get his legs to cooperate. It's his shadow, so he thinks he can get it to try and be a comforting support, rather than attack....
Miracle of miracles, it does cooperate, beating him to Arthur's - and Emma's, God, no, why did this - side by a fair bit. It's now a cartoonish parody of his silhouette, but that doesn't matter to it or to Eric; it settles down beside where Arthur kneels, and an arm of solid darkness gently settles around his shoulders.]
You tried your best.
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There's an arm (not quite an arm?) around him, and Eric is speaking. He sounds so far away. Tried his best... Yeah, he did. But trying his best doesn't do a lot of good, does it? And it doesn't mean a lot when things still end badly.
He swallows, thick and heavy.]
I messed up again...
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With someone in distress to focus on, it's a bit easier to make himself move. He was far away, comparatively speaking. (He couldn't do this for Jun.) He kneels so he almost overlaps the shadow, and sets his hand on Arthur's shoulder, an offer of support should he want it. (He didn't have the chance, then, but like him, Jun had been... like him, bitter and angry and stubborn.)]
I don't know if... no, it doesn't help, to say "she knew you tried", but... she must have known. She didn't die afraid, not with such a look on her face.
[If he looks too long, the features blur. If he looks too long she starts to look like Miss Lucy laid out with her cross already stolen. He cannot find it in himself to weep - the walls are doing that, in something he can't describe, something that vanishes when he tries to see it straight on. Better they do it, then. He has to be as his father was, once, a long time ago.]
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now that he's closer, he can see Emma's face, see how she looks so serene. he thought she'd been spared for a reason at the trial, but here she is. here they all are. he reaches out to put his hand on Arthur's other shoulder, but he doesn't know what to say yet. Arthur's blaming himself again, so he must say something]
...It's not your fault, Arthur. What happened to her... [he only caught the tail-end of the struggle] What's happening to all of us isn't your fault.
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Osomatsu....? When did you....?
[...]
I was just....telling her yesterday... I'm not-- I don't know if I've been doing enough...
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