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

[honourous]

[ she comes to sandwich vi in on the other side of him, but reaches around behind her to curl her fingers at his elbow when it's anders out there. ]

[halians]

[ oooohhhHHGHGHGH SIMMERS he looks like he's three seconds from vibrating out of his skin and tearing up the furniture yet again ]

Damn it all to hell--

[honourous]

Breathe, Strohl. We will be of no use to him if we expend all of our energy, now - we must be prepared to get him to the aid station.

[ because! he will get his shit absolutely rocked by the giant metal man. ]

[halians]

[ this injustice will not stand, anders says, and strohl mutters under his breath, heated: ] Bloody right.

[ not any of it. but with hulkenberg's breathe, he does - he sucks in a deep, angry breath and grips the sleeve of his own coat where his arms are folded. ]

Yeah. Yeah, we will.

[honourous]

[ she can see why the two of you bonded so hard, but she says nothing on it. just takes a deep breath and squeezes his arm where her hand rests, before relaxing the grip as her eyes stay locked on the two figures.

anders gets a shield up, and she takes her own, deep breath. watching the key neuve execution was bad enough - their murderer died and their executioner survived, but heavily hurt - so she expects the same, now. but maybe the magic will aid him better. ]

[halians]

[ the shield's a relief to see, to, even if it's not long lasting - it's something. better of a chance than essek got. plight of the bloody mages, or something like it, though that's hardly what's on his mind.

it's hard to watch boothill out of his mind like that, too. frustrating, familiar, but he leans into hulkenberg's hand on his arm just slightly and his foot begins to tap in place - more normal signs of agitation. ]

At least he slept. [ mrmrmrmghg. he hates this. why did our bonding ear piercing sleepover have consequences ]

[honourous]

[ time to get strohl one of those cow tags they put in their ears

hulkenberg goes from hand resting against his arm to grabbing hold of his sleeve, in case his anxious, agitated tapping escalates to him trying to launch himself at the invisible barrier when boothill takes anders' arm off, fucking apparently.

sleep is less of a concern, now. ]

[halians]

[ hulkenberg... you're being so cool about it... maybe it IS okay to break patriarchal clemar stereotypes and have a sick earring


shouting and yelling does fucking nothing, which makes him even more mad - sheer instinct has him nearly ram the glass before he stops himself. ] Damn it - get away from him, move!

[honourous]

[ have the sickest earring you want, brother, you will look so cool.

also one of the three of us needs to keep their fucking cool, and she guesses it's her! even if she's bristled and on edge, moving forward with him, stopping in tandem with a gritting of her teeth. ] This damned place..!

[ but justice is here, it seems. ]

[halians]

[ unfortunately it's a safety pin. have we made that clear to everyone yet? these are safety pins. they clearly granted no safety to anders today but thats alright

he's stopped shouting, now, as all that blue starts to pour. familiar, not from color but from barely a few days ago, when their fucked up little team had another insane interaction, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. it's almost done. it has to be almost done - like putting someone out of their misery.

there's a quick, sharp intake of breath at the spur, but - ] We've got to get to the first aid center, and fast.

[honourous]

I have - I brought the supplies I put together. We may slow the bleeding once he is freed, and transport him immediately.

[ y'all need to get actual earrings i'm going to lose my shit SAFETY PINS?

she has to release him - and vi - to get to her makeshift first aid kit, the emptied neck pillow that she packed everything into, to ensure that there would be supplies any time that she went somewhere. it won't be enough for the longterm, especially not here, but... it'll be something. better than nothing. something to get anders to the machine. ]

[halians]

[ once again: she was so cool about it

anyway. boothill slams into the plane in that burst of color and light, and the voice, the nickname - fury flashes across strohl's face again, at this whole damned situation, at the auditors, at the whole place.

he swallows, hard, at raw, mortal emotion laid bare, and adds another can of gasoline to the mental flame burning low at the injustice of this situation, to the desire to burn it all to the ground. ]

Yeah. [ low ] He's not heavy. Won't need too many to carry him out.

[ damn the guy just lost an arm you dont have to call him a twink while you're at it ]

[honourous]

[ not like she was paying attention to his ears! you're not an elda she doesn't stare at the side of your head all the time!

may you see justice in the next life cuts through this shitposting, and she takes a deep, staying breath. again and again and again, this madness continues. when will it end? when will real justice show its face?

but she tempers her anger into steel, and readiness, and nods, once, slowly. ]

I will stabilise him, if you or others carry him.

[ he lost his pound of flesh, the twink will be even lighter now! it works out. ]