imeeji_frontstage | Betrayal Session 17

Betrayal Session 17

Who: You lot
When: To be inserted into the timeline after completion
What: Betrayal at the House on the Game Tower

[ The game starts with you in elevators, the doors jammed shut. You can keep an eye on the city further and further below you, but there's no introduction to today's game.

It's just as well. Those of you who recognize it need no introduction to it. Those of you who don't couldn't be prepared by any host's opening spiel, anyway.

The elevator stops atop the central tower of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building and then lurches unpleasantly, wrenching itself out of where elevators ought to go. The sudden movement jolts you, and when the doors open you spill out into a room.

Hopefully, with not too much time missing. ]

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A--!

[Jesus.

[Oh, Jesus fuck.

[He stares between them: between Hurricane, the axe in his hands dripping gore, and A, extinguished, his body - oh, fuck - his body almost ripped in two, as if someone had pulled and torn. His eyes are wide and wild, his fingers tense around the dagger--

[Because Hurricane is a friend, but A is family.]

[Gets his axe up toward K. If anything, the shaking has gotten worse.]

Stay back. I'm n-not kidding!

You fucking killed him!

[Like Hell he's staying back--!

[K lunges. Dagger raised, he springs right for Hurricane. You didn't want a fight? You bad. You got one anyway.]

[Yeah, no, he is doing his damnedest to not get into arm's reach of K, and also not to get near any of the shiny surfaces of the cabinets.]

[He yelps and jerks back - gets his axe up and swings around for a counter.]

Bastard!

[The blade gets caught on the axe's hilt--

[No matter. He yanks his wrist away, rearing back and out of the way of the axe. One step back, two and then he's surging forward, this time going low, the dagger flashing quick and deadly in his hand as he lashes out again, aiming for center mass.]

[He stumbles back again, his usual grace undercut a little by the panic.]

[He's hyperventilating, vision blurry from the tears, but he manages to get the axe up swinging hard to try and force him back.]

[Last time he got trapped in a corner, too.]

Shit--!

[K spits it.

[He ducks back, head snapping away as Hurricane swings the axe; he stumbles slightly, but recovers. Presses forward again - aiming for arm or wrist or hand. If he can just deal with that fucking axe....]

[[Speed: 6]]

[Whines, glancing frantically behind him. The cabinet is right there. He knows this view too, too well, and his back is almost literally to the wall.]

[With a speed 8, he manages to dodge that, though barely. He is full on sobbing, now, practically shaking apart.]

Please... please.....

Please, what?

[He's seen this before. K can't remember where or how, but he's seen this.

[He's used to begging.

[He's used to blocking it out.]

You tore him apart!

[He lunges again, swift, vicious and brutal, driving Hurricane back against the wall.]

[[Speed: 4]]

Edited 2019-09-21 22:39 (UTC)

[He feels his back hit the metal, and - he's felt this before. He knows this moment.]

[First there's the cold of the steel pressing against his skin. Then there's the hand on his chest, almost gentle, pushing him backward. He'll start to fall in, and then -]

[And then -]

[With a strangled cry, he brings the axe up over his head - drives it down into K, with a might of 6.]

[[Might 6]]

[He blocks it - gets his arms up just in time, grunting in pain as the hilt slams into his forearms. Yeah that's going to bruise.]

Fuck!

[He draws back again, frankly desperate at this point, and goes for another swing, with a might of 8.]

[K screams.

[It catches him in the upper arm--

[That feels like it should be nothing. Upper arm. What's that? Worst case you lose a little movement, you shoulder a little pain. It isn't nothing. Blood springs from the wound, spilling hot and ticklish over a limb that hangs, suddenly useless, by his side.

[The only blessing? It's not the hand that holds the dagger.

[K lashes out with it.]

[Hurricane had been in the process of frantically trying to scramble away from the cabinet - isn't even really paying attention to the knife, honestly.]

[It catches him in the side, and tears, and drags - goes deeper than it would have, otherwise, because he is so intent on just getting away from that spot.]

[No. No, you don't.

[You are not fucking running after all this.

[The only working hand he has, has the dagger leeching the life from him with every swing he takes - but that doesn't matter, it can't. He reaches out wildly, snatching at Hurricane's feet or calves or pants, or the trailing tails of his robes: anything at all...

[It doesn't have to be much.

[Just enough to drag him off his feet.]

[He yelps and flails - goes down, hard, and slams into the floor, the breath rushing out of him.]

[He manages to hold onto the axe, though just barely, and brings it around to to and get K away.]

[Well

[at least that arm was already fucked?

[Thank God he was already pushing himself upward or he'd be well and truly screwed by now. He scrambles away, fast but not fast enough; he loses his grip - blame slippery tile, blame the blood on his palm - and falls backward again, arm going up to protect his head and Jesus Christ but this dagger was a really bad idea!]

[Scrambles backward, slipping on the tile - graceless now, with the blood beneath them and the panic making his actions jerky and frantic.]

Stay - stay away.

Don't - [ His voice breaks.] D-don't touch me.

You started this!

[He sounds as enraged as he feels.]

You could have just fucking stopped him! You didn't, you - you could have done anything! and you killed him!

[On his knees, on the tile, his wounded arm hanging uselessly at his side, K's breathing hard - too hard. His blood is up, he's desperately, terminally roused: one or the other of them is not going to be walking out of here and right now he doesn't particularly care who.]

Edited 2019-09-21 23:48 (UTC)

[Keeps scrambling backward, trying to put more space between them. Trying to breathe.]

[At least he's not in that corner anymore. At least if it happens now it'll be a different view -]

[His thoughts seize up at that; he makes a sound, somewhere low in his throat, like a wounded animal, struggling to get back to his feet and get the axe up between them.]

[It's harder to get up than it should be, with one arm dead and the other tight about a dagger that's exacting its own toll on him, the devil's bargain that let him kill that Heart Soldier girl, that keeps him in the game here. Should tear it off, throw it away: he can't. Can't afford to and, even if he wanted to, doesn't have a free hand.

[It's harder, this time, to throw himself at Hurricane. He's slower, clumsier, the blow he aims at his chest less sure.

[K's strong, though.

[He still has that.]

[He stumbles back, slipping again on the slick floor - gets the axe up in a shaking hand. He doesn't have a left hand anymore, to steady this blow, but he braces his forearm along the haft, instead.]

[He's full on weeping, by now, chest heaving - brings the axe down, hard, with a might of 8.]

[NO! L cries out, and in one last desperate attempt to save her teammate, grabs her boomstick and shoots at Hurricane for 8 damage]

K!

--Hurricane!

[God, she can't let this happen again, she can't--

Leaps up, maybe a little too late to get him out of the way...but not too late to take the hit herself. With a choked cry, she goes down like a stone in front of him]

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[He was probably going to die anyway--

[K screams again, and chokes on it.

[He's barely straightened before he's falling again, the axe cleaving through skin and sinew and vessel and bone, burying itself deep in his chest as he collapses to his knees. He feels it there for a second, cold and alien, splitting his flesh so deeply he knows, he just knows he has maybe three heartbeats of life left in him, from the moment that Hurricane lifts his hand...

[Knows it before the pain hits, and the pain splits him in two.

[A wounded animal, K lashes out blindly as he axe slides from his flesh and he falls: he barely feels the shock of it when the dagger finds its target and hits home. It's too low to make any difference, but it'll be something to remember him by--

[Three.

[Two.

[One.

[Out.]

Edited 2019-09-22 00:35 (UTC)

Re: KITCHEN

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