the prism (
saturations) wrote in
chroma2022-03-27 09:00 am
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Entry tags:
WEEK FIVE: EXECUTION
EXECUTION: TRIAL BY COMBAT

Sunday morning starts peacefully enough, until around noon, when alarms start going off on your phones. The dreadful noise is accompanied by a reminder of the execution taking place in the Central Node. You can snooze the alarms at first, but they begin to get a little more insistent. If you're being stubborn, you can probably hold out until exactly 1 PM, when an archway opens right in front of you and pulls you in.
Today the Central Node is eerily quiet and empty. There are a few blankets laid out on the grass for those of you who wish to sit instead of standing the whole time. No refreshments have been provided, but the Residents are already there waiting for you.
As the last person enters the node, an enormous archway suddenly opens. This archway once again leads to an area which is pitch black inside, with white and grey dust falling softly like snow. The chilly air feels even colder than before, and you instinctively know you must not approach it. If you try to push through anyway, something is blocking your way. Smaller tears to the same space open in the air, at the very least. You can see what's happening, even if you can't follow.
Because - once the archway is open, Roxana and Clarte alone will begin to walk through as though drawn. All you can do now is watch and wait.
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You will see the blood when someone dies.
She looks up at Clarte with a faint smile, as she adjusts her grip on the paintball gun, her finger already on the trigger. ]
You may be making me uncomfortable today.
[ And before waiting for an answer, she starts shooting at the area around them to build (jan voice) a nice and peaceful place to symbolize the life neither of them had. ]
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"what kind of person do you take me for?"
"someone intelligent and cautious."
"i won't pretend to be otherwise."
funny how fate has worked out this week. they killed an illusion of garou, only for him to end up dead for real; words from long ago echo now, painfully true.
clarte walks in, steady, not resisting any more than roxana does. part of their wing is still torn, but any bandages are gone from their face—and they meet roxana in the eye.]
I probably will.
[when she shoots at the area around them—not at them, not just yet—they take the moment to glance at the gun. the object feels unfamiliar in their hands, however familiar they are with the idea of how to wield one, and what this one does. their heart is calm. still, they do not feel anger or hatred towards roxana, with whom it's like looking in a mirror.
they gaze up at her, before raising the gun. even now, they all feel is heartbreak. for those who have been lost, and for this woman they consider to be a friend.
"i just want a better time for you, in this life of yours."]
... We both wished for a better life for each other, but I suppose that's one miracle that I can't grant you. I'm sorry, Roxana.
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Much like how you wished for a better life for me, I'd hoped for one for you. That there could be a way for you to live that isn't you killing whoever ends up against you, as I know you'll try tomorrow. ]
Miracles were never something I could have. I will make people grieve you, or you will make yourself grieve. [ ... ] I am glad I met you.
[ They are one person for whom she means this genuinely. She told someone else this last night. She could not promise she will still be here, but she could say she is glad. For someone who has felt very little real contentment in her 19 years of life, for how much the Prism was so much of an extension of her life at home, at least... she could meet people, circles, that weren't like the squares and triangles of her family.
It does not stop her from turning the gun at herself once their idyllic surroundings have formed. She shoots twice and then holds out a hand for the butterflies to swarm around her. ]
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they don't know what happened between roxana and garou. the truth of that night is one roxana has chosen to keep locked away, at least from them. still, all they can do is hold onto the few memories they have, and still look upon them fondly.]
I'm glad I met you too.
[and even now, they mean sincerely. their existence is both a curse and a blessing, but they cannot be the latter for roxana here and now.
garou would be angry if he knew they were up here, they imagine. he, who made it clear that he did not want clarte to volunteer, who hated their "self-sacrificial bullshit". but he's gone, and this is between them and roxana. still, they think of how easily garou said he could agree to be an executioner, only to so quickly sing a different tune when clarte personally asked it of him—
"i don't want to kill you."
... in the end, perhaps this makes clarte far crueler than even the "monster".
both roxana and they left their humanity in the abyss a long time ago. nevertheless, though clarte might steel their heart, they will not kill it. their grief is not a distraction, but the core of their being. they don't hide their pain as they fire their gun twice at themself as well; the red of their hair turns green, and four more wings sprout from their back.
...
they don't want to be the one to make the first move, but they know those butterflies aren't a good sign. with a spin, they flick their arm and send a blast of crystal magic roxana's way.]
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A paintball forms a shield in midair to block what it can of the magic, as she runs out of the way.
It's a good thing Clarte regained their sight because even if they were still blind, she wouldn't have hesitated. The butterflies rush at Clarte at alarming speed, and all they want is flesh, blood, and bone.
She continues to shoot at their surroundings, for an environment Roxana knows she can withstand that most can't. It's an environment most flowers can't either, but the paint in these guns are so convenient, for creating the things they both can never have.
How many people has she told that she likes flowers but haven't really been able to tend to them or learn how to garden at home?
There's a really good reason for that, and it's because of how poisonous her butterflies are and the poisonous environment they need, and how poisonous their host has to be.
You can't always see poison, but you can definitely start to feel it. ]
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they don't hesitate. part of their original wing is still damaged, leaving them off-balance, but still they fly straight towards roxana, aiming for a fight in closer combat.
bad news, though! clarte's poison resistance chance is only 20%. they don't have a poison immunity badge either, very unfortunate. and thus, they start to feel it eating away at their insides, making it harder to see, to breathe, to fly.
they pause for a moment, allowing their feet to touch the ground again. they focus, as a gentle light falls over them. i don't remember what this skill looks like and i'm not going to be mean and make everyone wait 15 minutes for me to open up my game and fight something so i'm making things up. but it cures the poison in them—at least for a bit. it won't mean much as long as the poison still exists in the air, able to enter them again. (how nice it'd be to have rosetta right now, with her status immunity skills; but here, clarte is alone.)
they have to end this quickly. with a graceful leap into the air, they cast magic at roxana yet again. this time, however, it's a stalagmite bursting from the ground beneath her, tearing further through this false paradise she created for them both.]
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ara π¦ roxana Roll: [19] Result: 19
I guess fucking enough to avoid all these stalagmites. It means she has enough to momentum, too used to poison, too used to having her insides being eaten away by all the poison she's had to drink to keep these butterflies. Even as the butterflies die to fire, there are more.
Among the red butterfies are also violet ones, and Clarte will begin to hear a voice they know very well, of a girl they love and care for so, so dearly. It'd be hard to believe she's suddenly here in this dangerous and poisoned environment, but hallucinogenic butterflies are very good at making things seem so real.
This eats more at her insides than the poison does, but she has already done enough to kill her heart.
... as long as you know it's because there's nothing you could show me that I wouldn't accept.
Whatever you've been through, whatever you've done, I accept that. I accept you.
Every part of you that I got to know here is something precious, no matter what it was.
Yeah. That's another thing that I like about you.
Will that still be true after she shows that she's not above using weaknesses she's been shown in memories? In the week she hated so, so much? In the week that led to her vote?
It doesn't matter. She's already made her choice. She's made it long ago.
If they want to make this a close combat battle, she can do that, too, and paints herself some weapons. ]
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january βΎ π β½ clarte Roll: [1] Result: 1
a lot, but unfortunately, that doesn't really help because this time, they fail their wisdom roll. like, miserably.]
—Melina!?
[it's clever of roxana. they've already seen how ready clarte is to stop whatever they're doing to help someone else who needs it. and of course, who else is more important than the girl towards whom roxana had praised their loyalty? she has see the best and worst of them, perhaps; she understands them painfully well.
they freeze, before looking around. the poison begins to eat at them again, and for a moment, they double over to cough up flecks of blood into their hand. but it doesn't matter. they have to find melina, if she's here.
distantly, they're aware that they were in the middle of a fight, that they can't let down their guard—but whether from the hallucinogens or the poison, it's difficult to form a coherent thought. they cast rotacion again to cure the poison, not paying any heed to how this might deplete their energy.]
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That loyalty of Clarte's is one of the things she likes most about them. It's one of the things that makes them so different from her, for how similar they are otherwise. It's something she takes advantage of viciously.
She comes at them with the sword and aims at their neck, for the major artery or to behead them. ]
You need to find her soon.
[ Melina's voice is out there, the sounds of coughing blood fresh and brittle in the air. ]
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when the blade begins to dig into their neck, they snap to their senses. there's no time to think, as they act purely on instinct.
(the day they met, garou had had his hand around clarte's neck. what can you do to stop me? he'd asked. what could clarte do, if garou wanted to tear them from limb to limb. and as they'd demonstrated to him that day—)
—their hand whips out to strike roxana in the solar plexus, with enough force to hopefully get her away from them. with a flick of their other hand, they send another crack of crystal magic at her.]
... Clever.
[even now, however, they hold no bitterness, not even for her methods. they won't fault her for doing whatever she can, especially when they knew already of the lengths she'd go to.
"would you say living is the most important thing, roxana?"
"it's one of the most important things. why exist, if not to live?"]
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She's overextended herself too much, and she holds up a hand to her mouth as she feels the blood come up and out her throat.
Still, you can let me know what you want, if it's within the realm of possibility.
If what I want was contrary to what most others would want?
I'd still like to hear it. ]
I'm not sorry.
[ She knows they would listen, but even now, she knows what she wants is contrary to what the majority wants. She reaches into her hair and throws the knives at them.
Her accuracy and precision, even with a roll of 12, is still good, but the power is lacking after being hit to the solar plexus and by magic. ]
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once again, they cast rotacion on themself to keep the poison at bay. they can't do this forever, they know.]
I am.
[they hold out their hand, as the stifling chain—the glowing blue around their wrists—radiates further. in this place, with the paint of the guns that bubblegum really wants but can never touch apparently—
similar-looking chains appear from the air to wrap themselves around roxana, intending to keep her in place. ultimately, though, for a human like her, they're just normal chains; simple enough to break free from with effort. still, clarte's hoping they can restrain her long enough as they approach her once more.
it might be easier to simply tear roxana apart with magic from afar, but it feels as though a personal death is the least they could do for her.]
1/2
She continues to struggle as they approach her, until they're right in front of her.
Her usual composure breaks, her expression shifts, and she lets her vulnerability slip through. ]
Clarte.... Please...
[ Her voice is so soft, and it wavers. ]
Don't....
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this was the last thing clarte expected, so they freeze just for a moment, not reacting.
and then, eyes widening, they shove her away. they fall to their knees, coughing blood—far more violently than they had before.]
... Rox... ana...?
[their voice is faint, vague even to their own ears. their vision swims, their breathing slows, and they think—they need to cure themself. but with the way they are right now, they can hardly focus, let alone to muster up their magic.
everything is growing cold.]
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She knows some of the other powers they have, so she won't let her guard down, but she thinks, Die for me.
She keeps thinking she couldn't hate herself more, but this place finds a way. ]
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it doesn't take a genius to know that this poison is fatal. everything is on fire inside of them, contrasting against the ice left behind by the way their life slips away. the latter, at least, is a feeling they're used to. how many times have they died by this point, after all?
what is another death to them?
i'm sorry.
to meteion, to garou. to those watching this now, and whom clarte has hurt.
to roxana, because they could not save her.]
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sometimes, it's not always so easy to kill them.
summoning the last burst of the strength they have, they lunge forward, a blade of energy forming in their hand—and then they plunge it into roxana's heart.]
Rest.
["i don't want to die, clarte. i never have."
they cannot save roxana, but they can at least give her peace.]
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Does she have to experience dying one more time? The blade of energy pierces of her heart, and she has no time to react or do anything else. There are only her last dying thoughts, as she falls back, collapsing onto this ruined little paradise.
Blood pools around her, and she thinks, she really will go to hell. Even if death in the Prism is different from how it is at home, dying is still dying.
It is a cold comfort. It's such a cold comfort. The words don't form on her lips, to tell Clarte.
I don't feel like I'm the sort of person who changes much. She feels the same. I was always meant to be slated for disposal. She knows she was the same.
You wouldn't want any escape? For someone to save you? Why would she hope for something like that—when she is the only one who could save herself? When she's never had any reason to hope?
And I realized--if I tried to save him, then... I'd be denying his whole existence. And isn't that how she is, too? It hurts that she's this way.
At times, we want what hurts us. It's not as much of a want, as it is a choice. Hurting was the only way to live.
At home, we'd call it a string of fate snapped too soon. Is this a string of fate snapped at the right time?
You're not surprised, are you? It's only been six weeks, but that's long enough for you to know the kind of people we are, I think. She wonders if she had more than six weeks here, would anything change?
I'd share the weight of your sins with you, even if you could hold them on your own. She thinks, it's better if no one does.
...You're still here, yeah. I'm glad that you are. She is sorry she can no longer be there.
She is sorry she can longer stay. She is sorry to make anyone grieve for her when they shouldn't.
Roxana is dead. ]
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... clarte find themselves gently tipped out of the archway as it closes behind them, sealing away the area once more. you no longer feel the horrible, slow poison in your lungs, and you can move once again.
roxana agrece is dead.]
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anyway clarte collapses because they're bleeding from the neck and are still poisoned and have 1 hp bye]
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Hey! If someone has an antidote, use it! Fast!
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she raided the medbay for bandages and so on after trial yesterday so she will get right to work on the wounds, at least]
We should get them to the medical bay...
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i didn't bother to icon their status afflicted sprite so just pretend this icon is appropriate]
Sorry... for the trouble...
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[she's going to kill them.]
If someone has some kind of an antidote, follow along and use it! I need someone who can lift them safely to get them to the medical bay now!
[i'm not risking jan having clarte on a timer WE ARE GOING]
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