Endgame

[idolpro]

Who: You lot
Where: Game Tower
When: Day 155, sunset

[ The house is silent; you awaken in your starter rooms, with injuries healed and the gripping hold of possession released as though it were all a dream.

It wasn't though, was it? The scars that remain, whether physical or emotional, are proof of that. If you need more proof, well - when the elevator opens for you once more, to take you back down to ground level, you'll find you can carry whatever is on your person back down with you as souvenirs, although their effects don't carry over.

Once you take the elevator down, you'll find most everyone else there too - most everyone, anyway. Some are missing, and . . . well, the doors to the outside aren't opening to let anyone out, although non-participants may enter to fret over their loved ones.

Soon enough, once the last elevators go down, the doors will unlock and you'll be free to hurry home, as the last rays of the sun disappear behind the skyline. Night is coming once more. ]

Comments

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

[It seems my cat has had a time.

Approaches her from the side - very pointedly not from behind.]

This is the second time they've done this after one of these Battle Royale games.

Locked up in a room to stew until they let us out.

[purrrnicious]

[She still coils her tail anxiously, though at least she doesn't start.]

Stew? Stew about what? That you were just––and I––





[W H O O P S no wait, stop that thought, back it up and reverse it. She grasps at literally any other idea related to post-games she can, comes up with alcohol, and blurts:]

––I don't have any water.

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

That's good. You'd probably be mobbed right now if you did.

[purrrnicious]

Not if I charged for it.

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

You should wait for that until they decide winners.

People will have so many guilt points to get off their hands.

[purrrnicious]

[Runs her thumb along the mangled scar on her throat absently.]

Right. Guilt points.

. . .If they bring stupid food baskets again I'm burning them, I don't care if it's not my unit's Live.

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

[He watches the motion, only half paying attention to her words]

Who did that to you?

[purrrnicious]

[Half shrugs, a little confused by the question.]

Some guy on Taisho. He's not here. He, uh. . .



. . .He's a creep, he drinks blood.

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

[Filing that piece of information away for later.]

... So he drank it before he did that?

[purrrnicious]

What? No, he––he has claws, or something, and he drank when I was––






["dying"

and changing gears again because she does not like this conversation.]

. . .Why are you asking this?

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

There's a two drink minimum for that question. Can you pencil me in your calendar over the next couple of days?

[purrrnicious]

[Buddy that was hell and her unitmate just stumbled over with a severed head for her to help pry out of his hand. Her calendar for the next week is booked solid with finding the smallest, farthest cramped space and hiding in it even if it turns her fucking grey and faded doing it.]

I don't know. Your team seems like the type that'd booby trap their hallway. Do I get a hall pass?

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

[That last part is exactly why he's arranging their day drinking sesh.]

Have we ever used the snake pit on you?

That should be answer enough.

I could demonstrate if anyone else brings pity food baskets while we're drinking. It's hilarious.

[purrrnicious]

[Don't tell her she can't catte.]

Fine, whatever, I'll come by tomorrow if you're so thirsty.

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

I'd normally say "if your unit is put back together by then" but I have the feeling that yours will have a quicker bounce back than most.

[Except for Eichi.

And his severed head.]

[purrrnicious]

Uh, "put back together"? And what do I have to do with it?

[Apparently the CEO has gotten some bad information if he thinks BARiTONES does anything other than go mistrustfully to their separate rooms, offer each other zero emotional support, and pretend they're a-okay badasses by the next morning.]

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

No booze pile after a bad game? Seems like the best way to handle a bad time is to have an even worse time.

Makes you appreciate the little things.

[purrrnicious]

Manhattan was the only one who ever did that. Pretty sure the whole "make water into liver poison" power is kinda wasted on us.

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

Then after you have a cat nap over this clusterfuck. However long that takes.

Is that better?

[purrrnicious]

[Trying to rally somewhat seems it looks like the doors aren't going to open any time soon, even if it's a little forced.]

Aww, you know me so well. I'm touched, really.

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

[If he notices (which he probably doesn't because this boy is dumb), he doesn't call attention to it]

Then it's settled then.

[Have fun dealing with... everything]

[purrrnicious]

[Repression is the answer to all of life's problems.]

Whatever, I'll see you. Go babysit your dumb unit.