allstarz | week 4 execution

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!execution

week 4 execution

W4: 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

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[ she does think of strohl, watching, wherever the dead are. of vi. manwol. maya. her living teammates, watching from beyond their reach - it might as well be the same distance of those that they've lost, in this moment. but she doesn't want any of them to have to watch her drag this out. she doesn't want rupert to have to have her blood on her hands.

so she gives him a smile, sad but grateful. ]

I know. Thank you. [ it isn't his fault, no. but it's appreciated nonetheless. it's not as if the auditors could or would give them their due apologies. ] ... a blade, more easy to manage than my halberd. But if this place twists to our desires...

[ it takes a moment, but she holds out a hand - and a sword, small enough it could very well be more a dagger to her, forms, orange and gold lines glowing up her arm and to her fingertips as it does.

but the darkness continues to billow in, growing thicker. ]

... you need not watch, Rupert.

[he looks at the sword as it appears in her hand, downcast, before he shakes his head. he doesn't need to, but she deserves to have someone here with her; she was acting in self defense, fulfilling a promise. she doesn't deserve to be here, either.]

I know I don't need to. But I—

[it's then that he notices the encroaching darkness and stills a little, shifting to put a hand on her shoulder. it's familiar to him for different reasons than it is to her; there's a new sense of urgency bordering on fear in his voice and expression as he glances at it for a moment before looking back to her.]

Hulkenberg, something's happening.

[ about to say something in response, hulkenberg clicks her mouth shut and turns to look in the direction of the roiling darkness, following his gaze. she bristles immediately, her free hand reaching to take him by the waist and pivoting him away from the flow of it. ]

No. I will not let you put him through this! [ who is she yelling at? who the fuck knows. the auditors are dead, so maybe whatever power is still running the show.

she thought maybe about stabbing herself through the heart, the way she had done to strohl. he'd had a moment to speak before he was gone, but it's near-instant, and it won't make rupert stay here any longer. but with the urgency, she moves to bring the blade up towards her own throat, something that will take less force but do the job all the same, and -

a gruff voice speaks out, scathing, sharper than the blade in her hand: ] Already went and failed one Prince. Now you're right back where you began, eh, prepared to fail another.

[ and all she can do is freeze, eyes wide in horror. ]

[there's every instinct to move and stop her, but this is what she wanted, or at the least what she told him he wanted, so he watches the blade move - and he watches the blade stop, too, at those words.]

Hulkenberg. [not unkind, but firm enough to try and get past whatever has her in its hold.] Don't listen to it! You didn't fail him, you're not going to fail—

[he doesn't get to finish that sentiment, though. darkness keeps spilling into the room, and it adopts a voice that sounds wrong somehow, a different cadence and rhythm than how any person should speak. the timbre is deep, threatening, saying words it's spoken to him before.]

Think of all you've lost. Your friends, your family.

[it's different here than how those words were intended back home, maybe, but it's no less true. just like that, the form of the darkness itself changes, shaping itself into humanlike forms clouded in shadow that speak in recognizable voices.

manwol, putting a hand against his shoulder, telling him I know that you're strong, but I wish you didn't have to feel that again. maya looking down at the ground as she says, we know they'll probably end up safe and sound on the other side, and that they'll come back, but it doesn't suck any less. vi's voice coming out of another form - stick with strohl and hulkenberg, they’ll take care of you.

he takes a step away as another figure starts to emerge, shaking his head.]

Stop—

Edited 2025-07-06 18:14 (UTC)

[ she whirls around on the figures, blade drawn away from her throat and held out as if it could stay them from coming closer. her other arm is extended out to shield him, although the fog is thick, filling the foyer, spilling through cracks and surrounding.

a repeat of one of his haunting voices, flippant, dismissive, said like a sneer: ] What's it matter? You're going to let us all die, anyways, so get it over with.

[ except there's an echo, a whispering undercurrent in the same voice filled with steel - I can break a wall down with my fists, but I can't get to the wall in the first place if there's a math equation to solve before getting there. My weakness is someone else's strength. I'll dance. For now. If only to protect you and Strohl.

hulkenberg sucks in a breath, and goes to grab rupert's hand. ] We must go. If 'tis anything like the castle proper, there is higher ground. There will be a magla hollow where it will not be able to reach us.

[ a strict voice follows, a man's, a captain's. one that draws you to attention: Your value is greater alive and honest than dead and guilty.

she will try, for now. for rupert's sake this time, as more figures begin to rise up out of the fog. those that are already present begin to contort, the humanity in them starting to become grotesque. ]

Edited 2025-07-06 18:25 (UTC)

[he doesn't break his gaze as they all appear regardless of the arm she puts in front of him. this is mostly because the last figure that appears, predictably, is a tall clemar, moving through a variety of phrases, of moments stretched together over the month they've spent here.

i think, truly, you could be nigh anyone's hope.

by the way, rupert... it's leon.

i'll be right there beside you the whole time, swear it.

it's only her sudden grip on his hand and her insistence that they have to leave that makes him look away - still, it takes him a moment to nod. it makes sense; they need to leave, they can't stay here. he looks towards her, waiting for her to lead the way, but...]

[ hearing strohl's voice, thankfully, does not make her falter as she darts towards the stairs with him in tow. she instead draws her halberd, a familiar weight in-hand that lets her abandon heismay's sword with only a fleeting thought of an apology to her companion as it clatters down the steps.

it's her voice that can be heard, now, and that almost jars her. ]

... I would rather not have to think of the worst-case scenario for us, Strohl, but. You know that you will have to incapacitate me if I am akin to Boothill at any point.

[ a sharp silence, but then - ]

... Yeah. [ the response is rough, before bleeding into steely determination. ] If you're out of your mind like that, you come after me.

...and I'll do the same. I want the same. If I start losing it, you don't let me hurt anyone else. So long as we can promise we can get out of here, secure everyone's safety, it doesn't really matter what happens to us.

[ jaw tensing, her eyes stay forward as the voice follows on their heels. but then that, too, contorts, and the figure of the clemar shudders, shakes, and erupts into a human. in fact... many of the figures that speak, in all their varied forms - an elf, a girl, a fighter, a woman, and a man - begin to take horrible forms. hearing the familiar crimes of humans, euchronian humans, she glances back behind them, furious but rattled all the same. and yet, the voices of their friends chase them just as much as their foes do. ]

Quickly, Rupert -

[she takes him up the stairs and he doesn't resist, trying not to listen to the next words that come out of - no, it's not strohl, he has to remind himself of that. he tries to keep moving, but when hulkenberg turns to look herself, alarmed, he follows the motion.

it's one thing, and jarring enough, to see each of them brought back in a twisted, shadowlike form; it's another to see each of them erupt into something entirely monstrous. unfortunately for both of them, he freezes entirely watching this, feet slowing on the stairs as he glances back. roughly:]

Maya—?

[the same voice that spoke to him initially, cruel and inhuman and strange, echoes out again:

i think love always has been and always will be mankind's greatest weakness.]

[ hulkenberg startles more when rupert slows, feeling his hand slip out of hers for the moment. it's not them. it's figments of them, meant to hurt as much as possible. to make this harder for them. she can't just kill herself when she doesn't know if that will free rupert from this hell.

a delicate, understanding voice follows on the heels of the cruel one, juxtaposed: ...I'm glad you were able to meet. You were very good friends to each other, and I'm certain there'll be so much happiness to come for you both. Once this this terrible game is over.

once it's over - ] Rupert! 'Tis not -

[ a whisper of a voice, from somewhere, as the homo fios shakes its terrible, merfolk body and a flash of fire is sent up the stairs towards the two of them, towards rupert: Magic Seeker, Magic Seeker, Magic Seeker and hulkenberg sets her hand to her heart, even as she lunges forward, lines racing up her body. ] Royal Knight!

[ it's not fluttershy, but it sure is a noble steed and its knight that replaces hulkenberg as she dives down the stairs and into the fog and monsters, massive halberd raised to strike. ]

[he turns back towards her when she calls out to him again, but it's too late to avoid the coming blow; he has time to bring his arms up to protect his face, at least, but they take the brunt of the blow, and he cries out in pain for a moment.

when he manages to look up and see what's happening, there's a moment of surprise, but he's seen something similar to this in another memory. he takes a stumbling step back as he watches her go - the thing she wanted most of all, he remembers from their conversation yesterday, is to prevent anyone else from being hurt. there's nothing he can do that would be half as effective against them as whatever attack she's preparing, but there's still concern on his face as he watches her dive in like that.

whenever it's done, though, he calls out.]

Hulkenberg?

[ a lot of it isn't as finessed as she would usually be, as she drives the horse forward to trample every figure in her path that she can reach. but there is the mad rush of her halberd drawn, spearing through the flailing fish human that is causing the greatest trouble as it always does, a swift strike, the end prongs bearing down the monster into the very fog that it emerged from.

it's a frenzied moment. the anxieties and insecurities have mounted the entire time in this replica of the royal castle, the oppressive presence of familiar magla and unfamiliar fog mingled as they are. but it's the last thing she can do as a knight in service to the royal crown.

rupert might not be her prince, but he is her friend.

as everything dies down, the music still coursing through the air in the background... the armour that makes up her archetype begins to dissipate, leaving her figure from a looming presence back to the noble lady knight as she breathes heavily. heavier than she should, maybe, but... intact. ]

[it isn't easy to watch, knowing she didn't want a drawn out fight, knowing she wanted something calmer, simpler. he holds his arms close to him as he moves down the steps, now that the danger is absent, looking over at her once he makes his way there. carefully, he reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder.]

...I'm sorry. Are you hurt?

[it's a little bit ridiculous to ask in this situation, maybe, but he never wanted her to suffer in the first place. he doesn't push or rush after asking that question, only waiting for her response.]

[ ... but is the danger so absent, in the end?

she stiffens at his touch, standing in that horrible mix of a fog, feeling something clenched tight like a vice on her heart. her halberd is still in her hand, the one that she had arrived with, the very one that she will depart with. a familiar weight in her hand, an extension of her own arm.

with a deft spin, she brings the bottom blade around - the point she drove through strohl's heart - and lashes out at him, the red and orange glow replaced with something foreboding, a deep, malevolent purple that can be found glimmering in the magla. ]

[his eyes widen as she moves, and he moves away from the strike enough that what might have been intended to pierce into his neck or his heart sinks deep into his shoulder instead before it's ripped right out again.

it's clear he wasn't expecting the blow from the look on his face, the way he staggers backward with a hand to the bleeding wound. as he moves backwards, the voices increase and continue. rising to a cacophony, a jumble of sentences layered on top of each other from every person he's cared for, impossible to distinguish where one phrase ends and another begins, between specific people or even between the school, the hotel, the airport, every place he's been, over and over, months upon months.

i would take your place in a heartbeat we gotta stick together as much as we can i'm gonna do everything i can to fix it it does not have to be you i am so very glad to know you it is good to see you again all of them just stepping stones on the way to the end of everything—

he backpedals further, disoriented both by the voices and the unexpected moment of violence, silent in his shock for a moment.]

[ rupert moves out of her immediate reach, before she can strike again. but there's not hulkenberg there, for a moment, just every mounting anxiety and piece of darkness that has woven its way through these familiar, unfamiliar halls. something flickers in the purple that sticks itself to her, like there's a force trying to shake it off. it manifests physically in hulkenberg, too, a jerky shake of her head, her shoulders, her body - an innate attempt for her archetype to shrug off the status effect.

the instant recovery fails.

she's still moving towards him, weapon drawn. he is her target, now, and she makes it known as she lunges for him. this time, it's the sword-like blade at the top of the polearm that she wields, aiming to pierce him through the same way that she had the human.

the voices rise, a cacophony, a wave. there's no hearing them for her, though. ]

[the shadows swirling around the two of them seem to almost grow thicker, bolstered by the betrayal, the blood, the way he looks at her as he shakes his head.]

Wait - wait! This isn't what you wanted. You told me yourself you didn't want to hurt anyone, that you didn't want more blood on your hands. You wouldn't have touched him if you didn't need to.

[another step back, dodging the lounge but just barely - it grazes his arm as he shifts.]

This isn't you! Snap out of it! None of this was your fault - you did this for him.

[ this isn't what you wanted, and still hulkenberg pursues, intent, relentless. she's never let up once in a fight, no matter how serious or playful it is. but there's another jerk to her motions as he calls out, trying to talk sense back into her. something pained enters her face, a blink and you miss it, and she swings the axe blade down -

rupert's own voice, soft with concern, following his spoken words in now: ] What about for you? If you could choose - what would you want for yourself?

[ and hulkenberg... chooses. the axe blade buries itself into the floor, and she reaches for her own chest, her own heart, in a familiar motion that she has done before. some have witnessed it, others have lived it - but she digs her fingers in with a sharp breath, practically claws in, through some power they barely understand, back home, and

("The brilliant star that illuminates the king's road." So that's her path. ripples in the voices that have overtaken them.)

rips out her own heart, blood and all.

or something resembling one, practically throwing it to rupert's feet as she falls to her knees. ]

... crush... Rupert, please...

Edited 2025-07-06 20:21 (UTC)

[he's seen this before, too. as it clatters towards him, moving down the staircase, he takes a breath. there's a distant kind of relief that she's herself, that she can at least have that in the end, but there's a bone deep sorrow and exhaustion as he looks down at the likeness of her heart.

a dagger manifests in his hands as he kneels down towards it, but his next words are spoken as he looks up at her. rubbing at his eyes, he finally completes a thought he didn't have a chance to fully voice months ago in an arena much different from this one, on the other side of this equation.]

...Thank you for being my friend.

[he drives the dagger into the metal.]

[ hulkenberg manages a smile for him, despite the situation. despite the way that magla and fog still pulse, accumulating in the halls that she had once walked as royal knight. because there is gratitude for him, for his friendship, for how he tried today, just as much as she looks at him with an apology hanging in the air. she wanted something different, today.

the music fades into a different song, something uplifting, as hulkenberg seizes when the vessel is stabbed, as she falls to the ground in full, unable to catch herself on her hands. ]

Never again will I wield my power only to hide my own sense of inferiority. My convictions shall lead me, and I shall fight by their strength.

[ it wasn't the end of a chapter that she had set out for, today. it wasn't the way she wanted things to go, no matter who found themselves on the runway with her. but...

she dies with relief, and as herself. she dies with some kind of hope that this will have meant something.

eiselin burchelli meijal hulkenberg is dead. ]

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week 4 execution

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cw: suicide reference

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cw: gore

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