Entry tags:
week 1 execution
W1: 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.
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!!
no subject
[He doesn't believe that. They're just good words. Words that you can say and people let you do what you want when they believe you have noble cause. That you're doing it for the greater good and things in the name of justice are always inherently right.
But the truth is he doesn't care that Wiš'adel killed someone to save people. Of course you kill one life to save many. Any other choice is stupid.
She just killed the wrong person and he needs some way to make sense of it all.
He figures she knows he doesn't believe in any of this. He coughs and blood splatters his white collared shirt.]
That's why I'm going to kill you.
[He reaches and something appears in his hand. Without hesitation, he twists his body and stabs her in the leg.]
no subject
well, if that's how it is.
she lashes back, crystal shard meeting that knife wherever he next tries to swing it, but she really only has the one arm at the moment; her right one is too stiff to hold the shard, hurts too much. another slash. another.]
There's no such thing as making shit right like this. Don't get it fucking twisted.
[shit like this? that's not justice, and even if she knows he doesn't truly believe in it, it bears saying.
the shadows echo something again, softer this time. one of them, standing behind kaworu, is the image of a woman with a serene smile--
it makes her pause.
then she steels herself and lunges forward with the shard once more.]
no subject
[He needs to feel better. He can't go on like this. How is he supposed to just accept the world like this? To have to live with this unfairness and this pain that he never asked for? His life could have been different. He could have been an indifferent creature made of instinct but that was taken from him the moment they twisted humanity into his soul and the very fibers of his body.
He thought perhaps it would change when he grew older. But now he's here and this place is full of adults who are beaten and broken by their circumstances, clinging to meager hope they can find. An endless cycle of being hurt and hurting others and seeking comfort from both.
The crystal embeds itself into Kaworu's stomach. He used to be so afraid of pain because it was new to him and now barely feels a thing. The body is repairable. He has other types of pain to fear.
With a bloodied hand he reaches up and grabs Wiš'adel's neck, twisting fingers into her hair, and pulls himself up. The crystal digs in and breaks through, he can feel the tip grind against the surface of the runway below him.
But it's enough to close the distance. He slams the knife into her neck. It takes less force than he thought it might. He pushes until the hilt is against her jaw.
He keeps his eyes locked on her the whole time.]
no subject
(which is good, because he'll need it, considering what they're all here for. he'll probably be fine. if nothing else-- he's survived a fight for his life, and he knows that he can, now.)
blood smears red against the white of her hair, before more of it spills from her throat; her breath catches, a gasp turning to an uglier sound, the pain of it sharp and unavoidable.
it isn't immediate, but it will be fast enough. her grip on the shard loosens, blood dripping from her hand where she'd held it tight.
the figure in the white dress speaks: ''Wiš'adel,' she says. It means to 'Wish'.
there's an echo of her own voice again. To wish... for a home.
the woman nods. Yes. Kazdel's destiny— could you witness it, in my stead?
-But I... you-
-Kazdel's future is in your hands. Not mine, nor Theresis's. You'll understand when the day comes.
kazdel's future. the land's future. what else would anything be for?
she can't say anything; she just closes her eyes, going limp as the rest of her life bleeds from her, before wiš'adel is dead.]
no subject
Did Wiš'adel ever find a home? Or did he tear it from her like everything had always been torn from his hands. Violence upon violence upon violence.
Eventually, he rolls over, not particularly aware of how the crystal still embedded in his body grinds against the concrete as he moves. For a few paces, Kaworu crawls, still gripping the knife, before managing to swing a leg forward and stand with all the strength of a newborn fawn.
He grips the knife tightly against his person as if trying to stop it being taken from him and starts to walk. There's blood in his mouth. Blood keeps dripping into his eyes. He can feel it running down his leg into his shoe. Only some of it is his.
There's so much out in the distance, just beyond the runway. It's so open. It reminds him of first coming to Faerûn and trying to reconcile the impossible amount of freedom at his fingertips. He could walk towards that open space, just try to get there, it doesn't matter if he fails.
But... they won't let me die here. He knows that and he coughs a bitter laugh. So instead, he just keeps walking towards the terminal, hoping he can make it to the First Aid room before he collapses and before anyone tries to help.
He doesn't make it. He knows people will come for him and take him the rest of the way. A part of him wishes they wouldn't but what can he do now.]
no subject
But in the end, she silently rushes towards Kaworu. Let's get you fixed up sweet angel boy]
no subject
no subject
anyway yeah he's following other people down just to make sure he doesn't die but also ah??? ahhh!!! ]
no subject