the prism (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saturations) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
chroma2022-04-03 11:23 am
saturations) wrote in chroma2022-04-03 11:23 am
Entry tags:
WEEK SIX: EXECUTION
EXECUTION: CLARTE
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, Clarte alone will begin to walk through as though drawn. All you can do now is watch and wait.
no subject
Bluntly:]
Did you kill Kagami-san?
no subject
And then, like a container under pressure, he exhales, long and low. All the tension leaves him. Where his body was once tense and desperate to grasp onto something, anything for support, he seems to settle into something looser, more contained. ]
Y-yeah. Yeah, it was me.
no subject
And then she abruptly lets go of him, taking a step back and looking very much like she's trying to keep a lid on her own anger.]
I see. [Her voice is flat.] Then, I trust you won't have any complaints over whatever the group decides for you as a whole.
[Her job here is done. Bye.]
1/2
In the sudden commotion, his Fenton Thermos tumbles away from him, rolling across the ground as the cap comes undone, and a wad of chewed gum spills out.
He sounds delirious. He sounds like he's talking only to himself, unaware that anyone else is around him at all. ]
What was the point? Why did I even bother? All I did was drag things out! He was right, it was all inevitable after all!! This was always going to happen, one way or another!
cw: body horror
2 people respond to this thread. ]
no subject
It's kind of funny. Week after week, Yasusada's been more-or-less sympathetic towards their killers; he understands, after all, that they're not in their right minds.
We're so close to figuring out what's wrong, and then we'll bring them all back! It'll be like nothing ever happened! So there's no need to get sad about it!
But that's the thing about hearts, isn't it? They aren't rational. They're heavy, and easily clouded, and the more you care about someone, the harder it is to look at things objectively.
maybe i'll get lucky tonight like crow
Danny transforms--and he doesn't wait. Yasusada draws his sword, and summons up a pulse of Marine along with it; he looks over at Kashuu, nods, and strides forward without any hesitation, ready to strike.]
no subject
It's just duty, isn't it?
Kashuu is even faster than Yasusada, drawing his blade reflexively before he even realizes he's still able to move. It shines with a flash of metallic gold light, and then he's darting forward, mirroring Yasusada's movements and heading toward whatever side he isn't taking, aiming to strike at its body wherever it seems fullest.
Also he's probably barfing color and flowers while he goes but that's fine this has been a rough week for throats.]
no subject
So i'll let them have little a stab at one of the bulging fleshy masses near the bottom of this creature. As they get in close to stab, though, the top of it, the head, cranes over them and stares at them below him. Then at everyone else.
There's a shriek when he gets stabbed, followed by a wet, gurgling laugh. ]
H̘̤̻͕̠̍͑ͦ̏̿̿̎ͭḁ̺̗̙̱͔̳̱͕̿ͧ̃̉͑̑͋̏h̘̗̞̜̟̫̬̋ͩ͑ͅa̻̝̥̗̗͓̓̋ͮͯ,̲͎̙͓̩͙ͤ̓̅͌̒̄̔̃ ͍̠̱̳̟̮̟̤̓̿͛̄Ị̝͚̖͉̼̫̙̜ͩ̀̅͂ ̻͚̰̙̣̮̲ͦ̅̃̾ͦ̇s̤̖̞̝̊͆̽͂͗͂ȟ͙̗̈̀̈ͭ̓͋̈o̜̭͍̹̊̎ͣ̾ͬu̘̭̅͋ͥͦl̰̤̺̦̼͓̽͐͊̔̓̌̚ͅd̮̩̝͆̌ͣ͆ͩͪͥͪ'͉̩̭̹̝̌ͯͦ̓ͤ̊v̼͚̺̫̏ͬͬḙ̩̫̺̜͕̾̽ ̙̝̯̒͛̉ͮͭ̚k̤͓̞̱̭̞̥͉ͩ̏ͪͣ͌͛ń͚̩̻͚ͧ̊̾͌̌͊o̫̥̮̜͓͇͈̞ͥ͛̇̋ͪw͎̤͎̖̻̻̞͈ͤͦ̂n̖͙̐̏̑̌ͪ͗ͣ̒̄!̩̥͓ͫͮ͌̀̿ͪ̌̅ ̝̔ͪͦ̆̉͌̃͌S̰̺͙̿ͅo̳̹̩̪͉̗̔͌͐̎m̗̲̻͒͂ͭê̥͇̤̠̲ͪt͉͚͛͆̚ȟ̩̪͙̻̻̼̜͑̄ͦ͐͋͒͑ͅi̬̼̗̔ͩͥͅn̻̘̱̆̒g̖͎̦̮̉̂̐̈̎ͅ ͈̜̻͔̾ͧ̉ͨḽ̺̩͔̹̪̟̫̄ͯ̊ǐ̘͉k̼̣͖͎̾͌̾̀͗͂e̬̳̤̜̭̩͍ͩ̽̌ͮ̊ͤ̓̉ ͙͔̟̥̓͛ͨ͗̃ͧ̌̆ṃ͌ͨͭͧẹ̘̯̻̲͎͚͈̭ͭ̉̋̌̅͑ͤ̊͋ ͙͉̤̙̽ͧ̆ͭ̂ͫ͗ͅs͔͕̻̤̪̗̍̉̑ͨ́̆̑ͮͅh̠͚̗̝͛ͦͩ̅̏͗̈́͂ȯ͓̲̻̫̯̙͖̫̽͒ͩ̑͐ͤ̑u͖̫̥̱͖ͪl̬͔̺̝̯̋̑̽d̳̜̞̺͚̻͇ͩ̇n̪͔̺͕͊̅̈́'͓͍ͤ̌t̤̻ͭ͂ͤ̚ ͍̹̭̩͇̎ͧ̿̓ͅe͔̲̳͍̼̥̝͊ͧ̿͛̊͛̾͂x̦̮͓͚͓͖͈ͭ̌͛ͦ̈́̽ͭi͖͍̻ͣ̀ͨ̋͛̑s͙͑̑ͦͨ̐ͅt̮̻̰͙̳̉̎ͣ̽ͭ͆ͩ̓-̮̹̪̝̠̜̝͉ͪ̂̌̓̎́ͩ-̹̉͗͒͐̀̏͂Ȉ̞ͯ̃̂͗'͎͕̼̲̮̘͖̺͑̊̈́͗͑͊̇m̫̯͚̮̼͉̖ͥ ̗̟̟̳̟͕̬̄͂̋ͩ̃ͅa͍̼̹̹ͪ͋͆̐̉̍ͦ ̳̣̩͇̺̈ͤ͛ͮ̿f̤̰ͣͭr̺̝̺̩̹̩̪ͥ͊̾̈̌̄̄ͩ͆e͈̜̪̦̟͇̮͙̝ͫ̅̐̿̏̚a̼̘̹̗͙̼̼͔̋͋́͌ͩ̉k̹͈̺ͦ̑̉ͦͫ̑̾!̬̱͍̫̭̲̒̿̉ ͙͙ͮͦ̇̒̚Ô̜̜̟̠̙͕̮̞ͥ̏̓ͯ̉f͓̦̯͖͚̩̬͆ͤ̆͑̊̑ͅ ̖̤̣͔̗̰̦͕̿̎̊ͦͤc͉̫͍͋͗̎ͩo̜͙͊̅͂̚u̜͚̭̰͈̦͑̿̒ͣ̽ͮ͒r̳̮̬̤͕̤̱ͫͮ͊̍̓͂s̤͕̤ͣ̈ͦͯ̀̏̄͆ȇ̦̝̙ͤ͒́ͭ̎ ͇͓͔̐̿I̭͖̾̈́'̻̫̬̞ͮ̉̍̓d͚̠̳ͩ̅ ̠͔̼̰̳͗͋ͭ͂ͮͨ̚ḃ̬̥̲͈̺͕̝͂ͮ̎̄ͤͤͣ̚ͅḛ͙̀ ̪̲̻̺͔͙̜͊̅̊̊̄̉m̲͙̺̑ḙ̼͈̦̘͊̒ͦ͆̏s̥̜͙̤̜̹͋͛̽ͭͤs̮͈͈̤̠̗̀ͭ̋̀̚̚ȇ̩̥͕̬̽̑d̠̰̪̜̒ͩ̈͛̐ͨ͊͛ͯ ͚̲̻̱̦̫̘͈̲ͤṷ̜͎̐ͮp͙̟̲̙̰̼̿̿̐ͬ!̺̜ͩ͗̉͒̂ ͕̣ͮͅȊ̘̖̯̳̊'͕̩̦̰͙̖͎̥͎̍ͪ̀ͮm̹̞̝̯̤̰̺̓ͣ̈́͛ͅ ̞͈̝͓͚̲͍̟͆̑̔ͅj͉̤̬̆ͬ͗̽̽̈́ù̼̆͐s͇̭̮̜͎̠̗̺ͮ͗̎t̺̖̬̘͔̗̾ͤ ͓̲̳̭̗̈́̑͑̃à̳̼̦͕̠ͬ̃̓s̬̮͇͍͊ͩ̈̔̀̈́ ̩̹͍̞̦̗͈͍ͨ̐̀ͣ̋̍̔̚b̘̑̈͋a̱̒ͤ̍̇͆̓d̠̤̝͇̝̟̋ͣ́͊̐ͣ̅̒ ̦͍̬̺̣̖̟̾̃͋ͅa̮̞̥̙͑̌ͧ̋̑͑ͪ̚ͅș͈͇̘͕̯̥̥ͭͬ͂͗ ̻̣͎̞̤̹͕̈̋ͣ͑̒V̙͓̭̣̩̟͉ͧl̬͕͍̣̮̆͐ͩa̩̖̹̤͉̭̰͙͚ͦͬd̰̤̲͖̜̆ͬͬ̓ͣ̓͂̚-̼͔͇̠̩͒ͥ̉ͣ-͚̦̜̠̜̖̱̏͆̃͋o͗̉ͭͥ͋́ͅr̬̫̻̣̀͌ͪ͋̉ͣ̄͋̈́-̥͖͚͖̅̒ͅ-̣̞͖̹̣͋ͩ̊̔ͅ
[ Another laugh, completely devoid of mirth. But this time, a thick yellow-green acid oozes and drips from Danny's mouth. Several mouths, actually, dotted throughout this nasty elongated bug body, but the one craning overhead is the one they need to worry about. ]
no subject
And honestly, it doesn't even matter how this creature attacks them. As long as they're on their feet, as long as they can keep moving--he'll fight, just as he was made to do.
This isn't about revenge, really. It isn't satisfying, or something he would've gone out of his way to enact. It truly is just duty, now.
One by one, they've lost the people that Buzen asked them to look out for, weeks ago. Protecting everyone else from this, from letting even more people come to harm at its hands--if that's all he can do now, then he'll do it until he breaks.
He leaves the large mouth to Kashuu, for now. Instead, he focuses on slashing through the others along Danny's sides.]
no subject
Also, the way his ass immediately moves to shield his sword from this nasty goop the second some splashes onto him and he realizes it's acidic. HE'S LIKE "I CAN GET THIS FLESH SUIT PODDED BUT WHAT ABOUT MY REAL BODY!!!"
He moves with the sort of quick efficiency of someone used to not only war and battle, but someone used to fighting enormous monsters. Creatures born from despair, twisted beyond recognition, are nothing new to him. It would be nice, he thinks, if every person lost could be found again. But sometimes, that isn't the case, huh?
The large mouth is probably too far for him to reach currently, so he tries bringing it closer to them, running along formerly-Danny's side to hack and slash at as many legs as he can get at to try tipping its balance.]
no subject
The tall column of this insectoid thing eventually loses balance, its decapitated legs waving desperately for traction but failing. And then it falls over with a weighty thud and a final screech from the main mouth--an anguished cry.
The main mouth whimpers after a moment. He wriggles on the ground, but can't quite get back up. He's stuck like this--immobilized, injured...grotesque but ultimately helpless. As he should be.
As quietly as a creature this large can, Danny utters: ]
.̢.͘͠.̨͝o̴r ͡m͟a͢͢y̨̨͘b҉̢e ͠i҉̷t͏҉̶'̷s̶̢͟ ̸͞͞j̶̵us҉͟t҉ ̨͞͞m̢̀͜e͡͝.͟͝ ̢́M̴̕a̛͏́ybe ̸I͟'͟v̕e̴̶̢ a͏̡͞l̕͠ẁ̷ą̶̛y̛͞͡s̛ ̛͞b̸̸ȩ́e͜n͠ ̸̧́b̷̡ą̵d,̢͢ ̡d͜ee̡p̡̡ ͏͏d́͞͠o̢w̡͢n͘,̵ an͟͟d̡ ͟g̢e̕͜tt͢͠i̶̷n͠͝g ̶͞p̵̷o̸̴ẁ̡er͜ş̨̛ ͢͟j̕͘͜ù́͝ś̷t̶̀ m̵͡a̴de͘͠͠ ̷͢i͟͢t ơb͘v͞͡ì̴o͢ù́͝s.̢̕ ̢͟I̴̢͝ ̶was ̸alwa̴ý͢͡ş ́͡g͠͞ǫ̛ing͝ ͝͏́t̀͘o̶ e͞҉n͠͏d̕͝͠ ̧̧͘ú̵p ̕h͜ere͟,҉͏ ̸on͟͜͏ę̵ ̡͢w̡͟͡a̡̕͞ý ͘͟͠o̶r̷̛ ̴̀͞an̴̶ot̢he̷̡r̕.̛ ̀I͘͠҉t̨s͢u͏k̛̕į͞..͢.͞or̶̴͜ t̴͟h҉̸e͠ ̴e҉̢͜x̢͘pl̷̸o̵͟s̢i̵̶o̸̢͢ń͜.͝.̴.̢or̷̡ so̴m̀et͏̶h̷i͟͟͡ǹ̢͝g҉ ͏͟e̵l̕̕s͞ę,̢ ́̀a͢ny̴t̕h҉̷i̵n҉̶ǵ̛ ̨͡elş͠͠e,̷̛ ̵I'̴̵̡d̛ f́͡i̴n̴͡d̀ ̧t͏͢o͡ ̴̴͜ḑ͘es̴̛ţr͢o̢͜y͢͏͝.̡́̕
[ With great power comes great responsibility. And Danny...has failed to uphold that responsibility. Shunned it, the moment he came after Itsuki.
This...this is only right. He deserves whatever may come now. ]
no subject
Forgiveness isn't his to give. He can't tell Danny what he wants to hear--what is a "bad" person, to a spirits whose sole purpose is to take the lives of others? That's not something for him to decide.
But he does know suffering, and he isn't cruel enough to want to extend it. As Danny speaks, he moves up close to his head, lifting his blade for one final strike. He doesn't have to look to see what Kashuu is doing.
When he speaks, his tone is also soft, but even. Not reassuring, exactly--but not hateful, either.]
It's over now.
[He'll be back to normal soon. On the other side--but aware of himself, and freed from the drive to hurt those he cares about. Death is a mercy now.]
no subject
There's a screech; there are garbled words. Every battle is life-or-death so he doesn't close his eyes, but his expression shutters. Nothing about this, from start to finish, has been fair by any measure. He can recall something in the back of his mind - a painful and unpleasant thing, which he shoves away again. At the very least, they can try to end things quickly. Cold comforts. Small mercies.
It's like he moves with a psychic tether; Yasusada doesn't need to speak, doesn't even need to look at him, for Kashuu to be darting back to his side, moving his blade in perfect harmony. Lifting it up, looking at the creature's miserable face--]
--See ya soon, Danny.
[Together, they bring their swords down in synchrony like the double blades of a guillotine, aiming for its head.]
no subject
He's crying.
But he makes no effort to move. He just closes his eyes and lets the blades drop on him. Even accepting it, though, he can't help but let out a pained, albeit stifled, shriek. ]
no subject
also? the tears from execution remains open - there is still a wide portal into a black space in which dust is raining down, and smaller tears ripped in the air throughout the central node. unlike most sundays, they do not close, even now that execution is done. but if you try to approach these tears, you'll feel cold, a feeling of dread, the sense that your color is being drained away.
if you happen to return to the music room, there - well, there isn't a music room anymore. the music room has been eaten away by the expanding dark void in the center of it. it's just an empty space now, and it gives you the same cold feeling and sense that your color is being drained away.
the hole in heliotrope is expanding, too, starting to take over the living area. if you approach even near it now, you'll start to feel ill and you'll start seeing shapes and colors glitching around you. heliotropes, you might want to run in and get any of your belongings before things get worse...by Sunday night, it would be a bad idea for you to go back in there.
occasionally, when you look at one of these tears, you get the sense it is shaped like an eye looking back at you.]