[So here they are in an as-of-yet undecided location, which may or may not have other people there. Don't worry about it.
It's 11:59, not that there's a clock to help them figure out what time it is. But it has nearly been an hour since the doors locked, so. They can probably guesstimate that they should be dropping off to sleep soon.
[ There's only so much time that can pass before it's clear that they are, in fact, awake after curfew.
It's an odd realization. The dread comes in slowly, in parts. He'd had no intention of killing anyone, and—well, if Flayn had wanted to, it'd be easy to kill him, because the thought doesn't even cross his mind that she could. More than anything, his trust in Flayn has been unshakeable since before the day they'd arrived, the only constant he'd had when he'd woken up at all.
He'd be less afraid if he woke up alone. But he meets her eyes and grabs his spear, reaching out to take her hand, voice urgent but forced calm. ]
Flayn—we need to find cover. [ They'll find a defensible position somewhere and it'll be fine. Flayn's strong too, so.
[Flayn takes his hand when he reaches for her, but she doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she holds onto it, her eyes downcast, and struggles to figure out what to say. She has to say something. She knows that she does.
(Some small part of her wishes they could just ignore this, and force themselves to go to sleep.)]
[ There's definitely no going back to bed and ignoring this. In fact, he wants to get moving as quick as possible, thoughts brewing into a stormy expression before Flayn's voice pipes up; he blinks over at her, his concern evident. ]
...We can't stay out in the open like this.
[ What is there to be uncertain about? Fear is understandable, but why the hesitation? ]
That, more than anything, hurts. It hurts so badly that she nearly lets go of his hand, but at the same time, she wants to hold onto it more than anything. She wants to keep their promise.
[ ...Maybe some small part of him realizes, then. It's that ugly, doubtful core of his, one he keeps buried but always ends up unearthed again. Because he'd resolved to trust the others here, hadn't he? And of all people, how could he doubt Flayn, even for a moment? Was the fear really getting to him that badly—was he that weak in his resolve, that one night awake could rattle him so? Guilt squeezes at his chest—his ribs ache with it. It catches in his eyes for just a second before they steel over again.
He's a warrior, isn't he? Keep it together, Dimitri. His tone is steady, practiced, and completely artificial. ]
[...damn it. Even now, when it matters most, she can't get the words out. Her brow furrows, and she seems to struggle with words for a few long moments, before she finally does manage to speak. Her voice is very, very quiet.]
...do you remember when we told each other what our powers were? Do you remember what I said to you, when you told me why you wanted to tell me yours?
[ The longer that time stretches out between her words, the stranger they feel. They really shouldn't be standing around like this, but something about the moment holds a strange gravitas that keeps him in place. It's an odd question. Ill-timed and deliberate.
He thinks back and recalls aloud, stepping through the old conversation. It's been some time—they'd barely stepped off the bus. ]
I told you I wanted you to be able to identify me, if I ever lost myself and killed someone. And that I felt there was no need to guard myself from you.
[She nods, looking a little relieved. Thank goodness - he remembers.]
At the time, I was simply... afraid, that we would be facing something similar to what we did on the island. But—
[...mmgh. She falls silent again, her gaze flicking to their joined hands. She doesn't quite let go, but she loosens her hold on his, in case what she is trying to imply to him makes him not want to be anywhere near her.]
...I think, after what happened with Tsurumaru and Evan, many of us found our fears realized. And that is when people stopped being able to speak freely of their fears, as well.
[ ...It's more than Giyuu could say, and he'd still put that one together eventually. He can only delude himself so long. There's a flicker of awareness in his eyes, a sort of muted disbelief all he can manage for a moment as he stares. He'd been so sure of how his reaction would be if he'd ever found himself in this situation, so certain of his own ferocity and bloodlust—and now he just kind of stands here, stupidly.
Because he's not quite sure what to say, or what they're supposed to do. Besides the obvious. But the obvious just doesn't strike him the right way, no desperate flight or fight stirring up in him as he meets her eyes, as though he might find answers there. ]
...I'm not certain what you want me to do with that, Flayn.
[ He can usually articulate something, even if he's always been weak with words, but he's genuinely at a loss, quieter than he means to be. Though he expects the impact of it all to hit him sooner or later, for now he hits a wall of numbed shock. At least he'll probably go along wherever. ]
[If this had been a few weeks ago, her answer might have been different.
As it is - she looks vaguely sick as she speaks, because the meaning of what she can't say is something she really hates.]
...do you remember when I asked you about your scrunchie earlier this week?
[Her voice is tiny.]
I think I am on the verge of figuring something out. We just need a little more time, and... [...] ...we both know what would happen, if no one was awake tonight, if... everyone passed the night peacefully.
[Flayn hates this so much.]
...I have never been very good at this - I am not well-suited for it. But I want to be as honest with you as I can. Dimitri... in spite of everything, do you still trust me?
[ He listens through the entire explanation without chiming in, silent for a while after. For a murder night, it's much quieter than he anticipates.
Does he trust her...? Yes and no. It's not a simple question. ]
I am trying to.
[ And for what it's worth, he really is. He breathes out in a long, stabilizing exhale, and it rattles out between his teeth as he thinks this through, trying to put some order to his thoughts. ]
That is more than I have the right to ask for, I think.
[Flayn has no illusions about the fact that this is pretty awful. If Dimitri was to strike her down where she stands right now, she wouldn't blame him.]
...some others, who... have also had the sequins on their scrunchies turn gold. They are much better at figuring out what to say than I. [...] They may be able to explain better than I can.
I have been asked to... bring you to them. For a conversation.
[ He doesn't cut Flayn down, no. He doesn't even make a move to—he's the type to act brashly, blade always drawn and ready, but right now there's too many thoughts behind his eyes. Too much to process, still.
He keeps his spear at the ready, in case this 'conversation' is less benign than it sounds, but his voice is steady now. Cool, almost. He gently pulls Flayn ahead of him before letting go of her hand, leaving her to lead the way. ]
Taako is sitting at a little table in the Gazebo - he hasn’t bothered with covering up as drastically as he has been most of the week. Still clothed from neck to toe, gloves on his hands, but the burns on the side of his face are unveiled now.
The table has a scattering of teatime treats and snacks on it, teacups and cookies set out. Though, he might notice, there’s also a knife on the table.]
[ Surprise!! It’s Tonbo, awkwardly sitting in one of the seats next to taako. he gives the pair a mildly strained smile, clearly unhappy as the rest to even be doing this. (but, at least This even was an option) ]
He doesn't take a seat right away, because... it's okay to find this surreal, right? Is he actually asleep and dreaming? He doesn't expect this to come with a tea party.
He just shifts his weight and stares at them, and there is a moment where he considers whether he could take both of them on. He gauges how much he hates this, hates them, how difficult Tonbo would be in a fight (Taako barely enters the equation, though he supposes he may have some items), and how much he still trusts Flayn.
The moment of hesitation is enough for his thoughts to catch up with his emotions, tempering them slightly: he'll hear them out. ]
[Flayn glances between the three of them - Dimitri, Taako, and Tonbo - and bites her lip. She looks a little uncertain and a lot uncomfortable (mainly because she knows that there will be only three of them walking away from here, tonight, and she doesn't particularly want to lose any of them), but...
...she doesn't look as though she expects Dimitri to shank them, either.
He doesn't. He asks a question, instead.]
I cannot say. [...] But, speaking solely of tonight... to avoid everyone here being killed, someone does need to... they need to...
[Her voice shakes - she can't bring herself to say it. She shakes her head.]
...it only has to be one of us. It does not necessarily need to be any of you. It could—
[This is probably the point where she gets told to shut up.]
This is definitely not how it usually goes. But I kinda wish it did?
[Taako leans back in his chair, because he definitely knows he’s being sized up. He doesn’t seem that concerned, though. I mea. . . Tonbo is here.]
Can you just— We’ll start from the beginning. I’m sure you heard everything we’ve talked about in public this week so far? The scrunchies, the plan to get everyone on the same team, how we’re getting closer.
[ for one, tonbo doesn't have his spear on him (it's tucked just out of sight where he can grab it if he needs) and he looks Dimitri straight on, unflinching away from his duty. ]
It certainly is much easier this way.
[ despite so, his voice is at ease as if they were truly having tea and he pours the cups as he speaks, noticeably wearing gloves with his evening ensemble. it's fine. clearly, it's just chilly this late. ]
The tale is quite long however, given how much of it there is to go through. There are, of course, portions we cannot speak of due to our own restrictions but we will explain as much as we can.
[ He won't shout Flayn down, but he does shake his head at the suggestion. If she brought him here, then the point isn't for her to die. There's a knife, Tonbo is armed, they have however many items and skills between them all, so—it's clear they don't entirely trust him not to lash out. Would it be so strange if he did? How many people have they killed already?
For now though, he sits, spear still set over by his side and snacks untouched. They can talk. The tension hasn't dropped from his shoulders entirely, but he'll hear them out. ]
Yes, we've been making good headway. [ Tonbo running out with Flayn in the middle of his announcement suddenly makes more sense, though. ] Speak your piece.
[Her piece, at this point, has become "maybe kill me instead" - more than it would have been to begin with, frankly. She glances at Taako and Tonbokiri. If they are going to have to fight the... Pink Snake, it makes much more sense for Dimitri to stay alive, doesn't it?
He is hardier in a fight than her.]
If we are lucky... we are the only ones awake tonight. [...] I believe that we likely are. I cannot think why anyone else would...
[Well.]
...we need to cooperate with each other, I think. All of us, so that we can save everyone. And that means... well, it may mean that if a life must be lost tonight, it may be best for it to be someone who is willing to lay it down for the sake of escaping this place.
[He gets what Flayn is driving at and likely the others will too, but Taako’s just ignoring it. Her attempts to die go unremarked on. He’s made more than one promise to see Flayn out of this and he doesn’t have it in him to do that to her, himself. Not at this point.]
I guess what we’re dancing around here is pretty simple. We want to ask you to die.
[And before anyone can react violently:]
We’d offer ourselves, honestly, and most of us have, but know that . . . we’ve gathered every role in the camp. When we first started, the scrunchie sequins started turning gold, because I think we were doing something right. If we start losing our group again, we have to start over. Find our replacements, gather them again, and as it is I think we’re on the verge of fixing it. You saw the Director’s, uh . . . engagement. We’re both Shadow’s team now, so clearly it worked.
For what it’s worth, I don’t think— I’m not an optimist, Tonbo can tell you that, but I don’t think you’ll be gone for very long. I know that’s not much, um, comfort, or whatever, but we’re working really hard to fix it.
[ Flayn is practically setting herself up as a target here—he's ultimately grateful that Taako gets them back on track. He doesn't flinch or baffle at the request, just blinking in surprise, bristling slightly, but otherwise quiet and still through his explanation. No big show of violence.
If anything, after this week, he's amenable to conversation, even if his tone is less than warm. He's not touching the comforting bits—it's not necessary. ]
I asked Purple Heart if the sequins changing were a necessity for success—they are not, but they are indicators that you're heading the right direction. That you should continue along that path.
[ Even if that involves killing. It's a sour thought, one he avoids like the plague... but there's no getting around it, is there? No matter how much progress they've made, there's no way forward without it.
Still, it sounds like they're not planning on taking responsibility for this, so he has to ask: ]
Are you saying you need to avoid detection during the trials as well? Because it would set us back from figuring out how to end this 'game' entirely?
[ Is that what their scapegoats have died for? Do they intend to have another? ]
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fishingforcompliments) wrote2020-07-15 06:15 am
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It's 11:59, not that there's a clock to help them figure out what time it is. But it has nearly been an hour since the doors locked, so. They can probably guesstimate that they should be dropping off to sleep soon.
12:00 hits.
They do not sleep.
Slowly, Flayn looks over at Dimitri.]
i hate you guys and this shitpost so much
It's an odd realization. The dread comes in slowly, in parts. He'd had no intention of killing anyone, and—well, if Flayn had wanted to, it'd be easy to kill him, because the thought doesn't even cross his mind that she could. More than anything, his trust in Flayn has been unshakeable since before the day they'd arrived, the only constant he'd had when he'd woken up at all.
He'd be less afraid if he woke up alone. But he meets her eyes and grabs his spear, reaching out to take her hand, voice urgent but forced calm. ]
Flayn—we need to find cover. [ They'll find a defensible position somewhere and it'll be fine. Flayn's strong too, so.
...It'll be fine. ]
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(Some small part of her wishes they could just ignore this, and force themselves to go to sleep.)]
...are you so certain of that, Dimitri?
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...We can't stay out in the open like this.
[ What is there to be uncertain about? Fear is understandable, but why the hesitation? ]
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That, more than anything, hurts. It hurts so badly that she nearly lets go of his hand, but at the same time, she wants to hold onto it more than anything. She wants to keep their promise.
We shall both make it out of here.]
...no one is going to come find us.
[But how could she possibly know that?]
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He's a warrior, isn't he? Keep it together, Dimitri. His tone is steady, practiced, and completely artificial. ]
What do you mean, Flayn?
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[...damn it. Even now, when it matters most, she can't get the words out. Her brow furrows, and she seems to struggle with words for a few long moments, before she finally does manage to speak. Her voice is very, very quiet.]
...do you remember when we told each other what our powers were? Do you remember what I said to you, when you told me why you wanted to tell me yours?
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He thinks back and recalls aloud, stepping through the old conversation. It's been some time—they'd barely stepped off the bus. ]
I told you I wanted you to be able to identify me, if I ever lost myself and killed someone. And that I felt there was no need to guard myself from you.
[ Then... ]
You told me not to presume so much.
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At the time, I was simply... afraid, that we would be facing something similar to what we did on the island. But—
[...mmgh. She falls silent again, her gaze flicking to their joined hands. She doesn't quite let go, but she loosens her hold on his, in case what she is trying to imply to him makes him not want to be anywhere near her.]
...I think, after what happened with Tsurumaru and Evan, many of us found our fears realized. And that is when people stopped being able to speak freely of their fears, as well.
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Because he's not quite sure what to say, or what they're supposed to do. Besides the obvious. But the obvious just doesn't strike him the right way, no desperate flight or fight stirring up in him as he meets her eyes, as though he might find answers there. ]
...I'm not certain what you want me to do with that, Flayn.
[ He can usually articulate something, even if he's always been weak with words, but he's genuinely at a loss, quieter than he means to be. Though he expects the impact of it all to hit him sooner or later, for now he hits a wall of numbed shock. At least he'll probably go along wherever. ]
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As it is - she looks vaguely sick as she speaks, because the meaning of what she can't say is something she really hates.]
...do you remember when I asked you about your scrunchie earlier this week?
[Her voice is tiny.]
I think I am on the verge of figuring something out. We just need a little more time, and... [...] ...we both know what would happen, if no one was awake tonight, if... everyone passed the night peacefully.
[Flayn hates this so much.]
...I have never been very good at this - I am not well-suited for it. But I want to be as honest with you as I can. Dimitri... in spite of everything, do you still trust me?
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Does he trust her...? Yes and no. It's not a simple question. ]
I am trying to.
[ And for what it's worth, he really is. He breathes out in a long, stabilizing exhale, and it rattles out between his teeth as he thinks this through, trying to put some order to his thoughts. ]
Who is we?
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[Flayn has no illusions about the fact that this is pretty awful. If Dimitri was to strike her down where she stands right now, she wouldn't blame him.]
...some others, who... have also had the sequins on their scrunchies turn gold. They are much better at figuring out what to say than I. [...] They may be able to explain better than I can.
I have been asked to... bring you to them. For a conversation.
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He keeps his spear at the ready, in case this 'conversation' is less benign than it sounds, but his voice is steady now. Cool, almost. He gently pulls Flayn ahead of him before letting go of her hand, leaving her to lead the way. ]
Well then. Let's not keep them waiting.
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(She isn't at all worried that Dimitri might stab her in the back. He is really much more the type to stab her in the front.)
They take a careful path from wherever they are to the gazebo in the gardens, where... well, where there are two people waiting for them.]
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Taako is sitting at a little table in the Gazebo - he hasn’t bothered with covering up as drastically as he has been most of the week. Still clothed from neck to toe, gloves on his hands, but the burns on the side of his face are unveiled now.
The table has a scattering of teatime treats and snacks on it, teacups and cookies set out. Though, he might notice, there’s also a knife on the table.]
Oh. Hey. ‘Sup?
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Dimitri-san. I’m glad you joined us. Please, sit.
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He doesn't take a seat right away, because... it's okay to find this surreal, right? Is he actually asleep and dreaming? He doesn't expect this to come with a tea party.
He just shifts his weight and stares at them, and there is a moment where he considers whether he could take both of them on. He gauges how much he hates this, hates them, how difficult Tonbo would be in a fight (Taako barely enters the equation, though he supposes he may have some items), and how much he still trusts Flayn.
The moment of hesitation is enough for his thoughts to catch up with his emotions, tempering them slightly: he'll hear them out. ]
Is this how it usually goes?
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...she doesn't look as though she expects Dimitri to shank them, either.
He doesn't. He asks a question, instead.]
I cannot say. [...] But, speaking solely of tonight... to avoid everyone here being killed, someone does need to... they need to...
[Her voice shakes - she can't bring herself to say it. She shakes her head.]
...it only has to be one of us. It does not necessarily need to be any of you. It could—
[This is probably the point where she gets told to shut up.]
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[Taako leans back in his chair, because he definitely knows he’s being sized up. He doesn’t seem that concerned, though. I mea. . . Tonbo is here.]
Can you just— We’ll start from the beginning. I’m sure you heard everything we’ve talked about in public this week so far? The scrunchies, the plan to get everyone on the same team, how we’re getting closer.
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It certainly is much easier this way.
[ despite so, his voice is at ease as if they were truly having tea and he pours the cups as he speaks, noticeably wearing gloves with his evening ensemble. it's fine. clearly, it's just chilly this late. ]
The tale is quite long however, given how much of it there is to go through. There are, of course, portions we cannot speak of due to our own restrictions but we will explain as much as we can.
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For now though, he sits, spear still set over by his side and snacks untouched. They can talk. The tension hasn't dropped from his shoulders entirely, but he'll hear them out. ]
Yes, we've been making good headway. [ Tonbo running out with Flayn in the middle of his announcement suddenly makes more sense, though. ] Speak your piece.
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[Her piece, at this point, has become "maybe kill me instead" - more than it would have been to begin with, frankly. She glances at Taako and Tonbokiri. If they are going to have to fight the... Pink Snake, it makes much more sense for Dimitri to stay alive, doesn't it?
He is hardier in a fight than her.]
If we are lucky... we are the only ones awake tonight. [...] I believe that we likely are. I cannot think why anyone else would...
[Well.]
...we need to cooperate with each other, I think. All of us, so that we can save everyone. And that means... well, it may mean that if a life must be lost tonight, it may be best for it to be someone who is willing to lay it down for the sake of escaping this place.
[She is! Very willing!]
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I guess what we’re dancing around here is pretty simple. We want to ask you to die.
[And before anyone can react violently:]
We’d offer ourselves, honestly, and most of us have, but know that . . . we’ve gathered every role in the camp. When we first started, the scrunchie sequins started turning gold, because I think we were doing something right. If we start losing our group again, we have to start over. Find our replacements, gather them again, and as it is I think we’re on the verge of fixing it. You saw the Director’s, uh . . . engagement. We’re both Shadow’s team now, so clearly it worked.
For what it’s worth, I don’t think— I’m not an optimist, Tonbo can tell you that, but I don’t think you’ll be gone for very long. I know that’s not much, um, comfort, or whatever, but we’re working really hard to fix it.
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If anything, after this week, he's amenable to conversation, even if his tone is less than warm. He's not touching the comforting bits—it's not necessary. ]
I asked Purple Heart if the sequins changing were a necessity for success—they are not, but they are indicators that you're heading the right direction. That you should continue along that path.
[ Even if that involves killing. It's a sour thought, one he avoids like the plague... but there's no getting around it, is there? No matter how much progress they've made, there's no way forward without it.
Still, it sounds like they're not planning on taking responsibility for this, so he has to ask: ]
Are you saying you need to avoid detection during the trials as well? Because it would set us back from figuring out how to end this 'game' entirely?
[ Is that what their scapegoats have died for? Do they intend to have another? ]
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