week 0 execution

[mgtropes]

W0: EXECUTION

In the morning at 12:30pm sharp, you hear the intercom speakers blare loudly across the entire airport, perfectly audible no matter where you are.

All passengers, please report to the Flight Deck effective immediately. All passengers, please report to the Flight Deck effective immediately...

Hopefully that’s not quite as long a trek as Saturday for you. All the same, you are propelled by that same sensation to come to the Flight Deck. Your feet carry you past that glass doors onto the outdoor terrace, where the benches and quaint planters await. Why, it’d look almost serene if not for the fact that one of you appears to be missing. There’s really only one place they could be, isn’t there? Your gaze might eventually settle over the runway you can see out below—the view is great from up here.

While you're not forcibly rooted to your seats, there's no way out. The glass doors close behind the last person and refuse to budge, and the viewing glass is just as unbreakable. As for any open areas, the invisible forcefield is working so very hard on this Sunday.

Oh, and because I’m sure this is the most pressing question on your mind: yes, Allstars Coffee is still serving hot beverages and small baked eats, even during execution. That’s what you need during stressful situations, right? More commemoration ASS caffeine? Yes, we thought so. You’re welcome.

In just a few minutes, the combatants approach, as helpful screens light up to further help you understand today's proceedings.

CULPRIT

EXECUTIONER

Allstars——prepare for sendoff!!

NAVIGATION; (FULL NAV)

INFO

PLAYER STATUSES IC PROFILES MURDER PROPOSALS CYOA SIGN-UPS

SETTING

NPC AUDIENCES LOCATIONS ROOMING CURFEW

REPORTING

PC TURN-IN MOD REPORTING EVENT TURN-IN VOTING

Comments

[doublefists]

[ honestly, she's also flipping her shit too so you have two dumbasses shouting over here like it's going to make any difference ]

[halians]

[ there goes justice like a feral animal. he's taking after frumpkin....

strohl watches all of this just kind of brimming with anxiety and fury and forty thousand other emotions at once, held still only by tension. insane magic (?) fights are normal, carnage is normal, but the chainsaw's a new one. ]

Justice. [ half-breathless. ] Come on - stay on him, that lightning can't be good for the machine -

[ kandeon his ass ]

[doublefists]

[ she was just yelling about justice being at range instead because WIZARDS. and like, it doesn't help, it really doesn't, if anders or justice could hear her, what good would it even do, right? it's not like her shouting would make it easier for him to dodge, but she shouts anyway, as boothill moves forward to try and slice anders in half: ]

Block! MOVE!

[ just shouting this, instinctively grabbing for strohl's arm or his jacket or whatever she can.

and then... ]

[halians]

[ god wizards are so fucking cool ]

[doublefists]

[ okay you nerd ]

[halians]

[ leaves my gag tag there

and then - fire.

a sight all too familiar, but one to metal - taking an eye for an eye, an arm for an arm, justice rends judgement. it feels like he remembers he has to breathe, finally, grabbing onto vi with his other hand in exchange. we're forming a teen blocking wall here.

the air whooshes out of his lungs, and he mouths a soundless swear. ] Come on. Come on.

[ still, saying so goes down wrong. knowing boothill, knowing -

Everyone except me. I did not have to be convinced at all. I was already broken.

the words die in his mouth and he watches in baited breath, white knuckling vi's sleeve. ]

[doublefists]

[ this is just... kind of sad...

listen, she doesn't know boothill that well, she really doesn't. and she's worried about anders, but. watching this, watching - the ring roll away, watching his heart, his human heart beat feebly in his chest. something about that fucks her up, and she finally looks away. sorry, she's - tough, she is, but she ducks down a little, presses the side of her face against his back and stays there for a minute. ]

[halians]

[ it's okay. it's the same way they've leaned on each other in the resort - bolstering one where the other falters. the visceral pain of a heart rended open is familiar, but near ironic, in reverse. a metal man, a mortal heart, not the other way around.

the minute vi turns to hide her face, strohl shifts to put himself in front of her, to block off the sight so she can keep her face in the broad side of his shoulderblade. every single muscle in his body is tense, jaw tight, eyes forward - still, it makes for a steady wall to lean on, something safe. ]

Knife to the heart. [ just loud enough to be heard - unspoken i've got you, it's over. for now, he watches, the magic man and justice, a maelstrom of horrors in an execution more drawn out that the sanctoresses ever could have been. it's never going to get any easier. and it shouldn't, either. ]

[doublefists]

[ a little nod, where she's pressed close. she should watch, she probably owes it to - something, to boothill, to anders, to the people who are suffering, even if they know they'll be okay. she doesn't, though. not this time.

instead, she stares at the ground and waits to see if she can hear the sound of the knife from here. ]