week eight: mingle

[cyclists]

Week Eight
9 in Competition

As the sun rises on Monday morning, all participants will find themselves awakening with a sense of purpose. Regardless of where they slept the night before, they’ll find themselves compelled to return to the main meeting hall first thing in the morning.

Approaching the hall, however, they will find three large, swirling masses grey in color looming near the sakura tree. These swirls cannot be approached just yet, but seem to be locked and waiting for something more. Later in the day, if those in the village approach the third mass they will find themselves in a version of their home world. This world is completely void of people, but seems to be just as they last remember it. No darkness will be found in this world as well.

As the last member of the village enters the hall, they will find Lune and Sol at the head of the room. They don't speak immediately, but wait for all to settle.



Welcome to your week eight mingle! We have now hit endgame week.

In addition, ensure that all of your week seven private conversations were reported on the page. If you'll be taking anything from locations, please report that as well.

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Comments

[foodbin]

...I don’t have much of a choice, do I?

[More than anything else, it sounds tired. She holds something out to him, but it’s hard to tell just what it is with her hand still wrapped around it.]

[nonbelligerent]

... No, I suppose not.

[he'll take it. once he sees what it is... ah. he's not surprised.]

[foodbin]

Either way...

[She doesn’t want to drag this out. Once he has it in his hands, she crosses her arms again; she looks towards his direction, but can’t quite make eye contact.]

Just - whenever.

[nonbelligerent]

[...]

You'll see him again soon. And then, afterwards, you'll be free.

[with that, carefully, he presses the needle to her vein.]

[foodbin]

[There's no verbal response to that, but it's hard to miss the way she tenses when Shess says 'him', sucking in a breath. That tension stays as she closes her eyes before the syringe makes contact, but when it hits her skin and moves further...

She doesn't feel the effect yet, but she knows she will within a span of seconds. That might be why she reaches up to take his free hand in her own, trying to ignore the way it trembles slightly as she moves.]

[nonbelligerent]

[with a melancholic smile flickering across his face, he squeezes her hand, just for a moment.

... looks like this is it.]

[foodbin]

[As the seconds pass, she keeps holding on until her grip loosens gradually. It's only a few more seconds before she feels her limbs start to grow heavier, and she stumbles against him as her eyelids start to drift closer together.

It seems like she might be muttering something, but it's too low for anyone but him to hear.]

[nonbelligerent]

[as he catches her before she falls, he thinks—it's always been so odd, here. the people of this realm are so often worrying over him, or apologizing to him.

he is a sura, a part of a race known for devouring each other to survive and killing anything else that gets in their way. he may be more accepted than most, but at the end of the day, humans will only ever look at him and remember: rakshasa. whether that means a powerful friend or someone they hope never to make an enemy of.

to think he couldn't handle himself would never cross anyone's mind.

here, none of that matters. it's not always unpleasant, but it never really stops being jarring, the way people treat him.

... still, he likes humans. he may not be able to fully empathize with them, any more than they could understand a sura's mindset—and perhaps his relationship with emma truly showed that, with all its ups and downs—but they shine in a way that's difficult not to appreciate.]

... You fought well, Emma. Rest now.

[and once she's unconscious, with one hand still holding onto her, he takes out his dagger. another moment, and then he pierces it into her heart.]

[foodbin]

[The only indication that she's still alive after her eyes slide closed completely is the steady rise and fall as she breathes. Still, even as the weariness overtakes her, she can hear him speaking. It's strange - it's not as though she isn't scared, even terrified. It's not as if she wanted this, even for a moment.

Still (and perhaps most importantly)... This time, at least, she isn't alone, as inevitable as this all may have been. That's the last thought she has before she slips into unconsciousness. And then—

Emma Perkins is dead.]

[nonbelligerent]

[...

gently, he lays her down on the shore, before he stands back up and flicks the blood from his blade, red splattering onto sand.

then, he turns and walks away. there's one last task to take care of.]