[hello, richie. mizu is back to wearing a certain outfit that looks like it's been haphazardly washed and stitched back together way too many fucking times. it's giving murder hobo chic.
anyway, they're at (throws dart) at the train station. there's a big lack of train here. and also a big lack of recognition from mizu who is staring at the tracks, like. huh.]
[Man. It's not like he expected this one to show up in a cardigan and corduroys, but the bombastic variety is wearing him down a bit. What the hell kind of sample population is this?
Richie taps out a cigarette from one of his brand new cartons, stashed in the pocket of his brand new jacket. He's casually dressed, if not expensively so. The sort of wealth you need to be in the know about to spot. Which Rashomon over here likely won't be.]
Locomotion. [He sparks his zippo, and takes a short drag. Taking a wild swing here, let's assume the guy's never looked a steam engine in the smoke stack before, much less a monorail.] Normally folks can pile into a big steel tube and get propelled down these here tracks at ungodly speed. Think forty or fifty horses put together.
[He's not an engineer or a physicist don't ask him for specifics.]
Fast travel? [He cants his head to him.] When you can get between the East Coast and the West Coast at about fifty times faster than on your own two feet, why bother walking at all?
You don't feel the speed, not really. It's a smooth ride.
Sure does. Some of them, anyway. [He raises his brows and sighs with a mighty chagrin.] So far as I can tell, my reality doesn't square up with more than two people, tops. If even that.
Richie has yet to notice he's too busy with the SOUNDSTAGE. He's tipping out a mysterious round black disc from a carboard sleeve, which looks an awful lot like his halo? Weird. He's absolutely delighted with the find.]
Crazy! Absolutely batshit stuff, do you know what a mint you could make on a collection like this?
[I was about to go do something else but booms you before i walk away
Richie will wave him closer.]
Come see.
[He'll click on the turn table, carefully setting the disc down.]
See the grooves on it? They're a way to translate sound. This needle fits in them, and the way it rubs up against them replicates whatever was recorded.
[He sets the needle down, and an old tune starts up. A soft pitch for an ancient soul, though he suspects that anything from his time will sound like so much caterwauling to a guy centuries behind. Every generation hates the culture of the ones after it, tale as old as time.]
anyway, he's right. anything more modern would have just sounded like absolute nonsense to mizu's ears. this is still kind of out there, but not as wild when you just got jettisoned from the 17th century straight into anime girl heaven. help.]
... Huh. [visibly surprised when the singing begins.] It records voices as well. Impressive.
[At the beach, parked on his rear with a bottle of H*nessey on hand and a sunken pallour, Richie watches the waves roll easy with a face wiped of expression. He only looks over when he catches movement in his peripheral.
For once, his only greeting is a two-fingered wave. The rest of his hand is on the neck of the bottle.]
[Wow you come from actual feudal times and his mouth is what gives you the ick???
actually valid tho as you were.
He retracts the bottle, but doesn't take a second gulp. Rather he caps it, and rests it at his side.]
...Yeah. We were holed up together. [His gaze remains distance, fixed on the horizon.] Us and about nine or ten other people with the same bright idea to get a shower in before bed. Then the door locked.
We tried to bust it down but if Marcoh couldn't do it, then it sure as shit wasn't happening. We all passed out later. And in the morning, she was just gone.
[there are enough white person germs inside this flesh vessel, thank you.]
Nine or ten? [HELLO???? baffled.
that is so funny. everyone really decided to go for the bit.]
It was the same here. At the beach. No doors, of course. But an invisible barrier kept us trapped like rats in a cage. [...] She traveled a long way to die.
Plus the two of us. [Looking a little strained....he would have turned around and left if he'd been afforded the chance okay]
That she did. [He nods, softly. His jaw is clenching tight though, and he looks to her with something sharp behind broad glass lenses.]
If she tried to wake any of us, it didn't work. And whatever held us back all night didn't stop her. And communications were cut out. Maybe the angels were taken by surprise, finding one of their charges dead. Maybe they weren't.
It's just hard not to believe she wasn't led to her grave. It was a pretty slick set up if you ask me.
I find it hard to believe, too. [or it would be one heck of a coincidence.] Though I would've expected to find some evidence of what happened overnight. Blood, if her death was a violent one. Yet...
[lord. He smiles, grimly, nodding as his hands tuck into his pockets. One coils around his lighter, running the outline of slim steel as he mulls the matter over.]
I do think it's possible. Probable, even. The way it was set up was all too neat. The lockdown and the protocols. Explusion.
....I've been saying as much to a couple other people, but one thing we should look out for is if people start acting off. I won't pretend I knew Jing Yuan well, but Jiaoqiu's account of him and his actions don't line up one bit.
I've been wondering if it's not possible his soul got corrupted coming here. Something gone wrong on the trip, or souring after he got here.
[looking more than just a bit troubled. brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line for a moment there.]
The man I spoke to yesterday and the man I spoke to earlier in the week seemed... different. I don't take Jiaoqiu for being a poor judge of character, either. Something has clearly gone wrong.
[He probably shouldn't be up walking right now but neither should he. Or the other two.
Richie comes in more by accident than intention. He's trying very hard to cement the place in his mind, and does a delayed double-take at the familiar lump in the cushions.]
I understand. Some of it still lingers for me, too.
[post-cyoa effects are awful, actually. thanks.]
I had help. [a light touch over the bandages, frowning. and then a glance to him, specifically toward his missing arm.] I assume your arm wasn't easy to deal with, either.
Good. I'd hate to be the only one looping in and out of reality. I keep expecting Yae Miko to come grill our asses over the state we're in.
[He sighs at the gesture.]
No, it wasn't. [Excuse him but he really can't be on his feet much longer. He'll very gingerly take a seat adjacent, grab a cushion for himself as he tries to settle in a way that won't make his back scream bloody murder.] They're doing great for scavenged supplies and no hospital, but my god, it'll be a miracle if doesn't get infected.
...What exactly happened to you, after things split up? I saw some...flashes, I suppose. Not enough to make sense of things.
It's not my first time staving off an infection with minimal supplies. If I've survived with less before, so can you.
[said like it hasn't been a terrible experience each time. it's fine.]
... I was taken hostage by the borisin. They let me go to have me scout the gates of a great ship, fully under the belief I would return to them. [still a bit pissed off by it.] ... And then I ran into Childe. He was alive, and mara-struck.
[Richie looks to him with a brow raised. Okay, fair, considering his whole era, but also no thank you?]
You're putting an awful lot of faith in a soft child-of-the-future like me. Who knows! Maybe I'll die right next to you in this conversation. We're just not built for hardship anymore.
[But ah, we are getting serious. He quiets, head tilted as he takes it in. It lines up with a few of the wisps and flashes he saw while in his own personal hell. Still, it takes him by surprise.]
Childe? [Not like he was bosom-buddies with the man, but he knew he'd meant something to Mizu. And the illness itself was no joke. He blows out a breathe and shakes his head.]
Don't be. [PLEASE DON'T BE SORRY FOR CHILDE..........] Considering we saw Marcoh there and he has no recollection of any of it, it's possible Childe wasn't even a real person in the first place.
[not to mention ringo but mizu is still "........." about that.]
dead, but not here. and being sent back is unlikely to let him change anything about it, since it happened minutes before... for once, mizu's expression softens. just a bit.]
[hmmm... hate that! mizu is quiet for a moment, lips pressed together in a fine line.]
Perhaps there is some truth to that. [drums fingers against the cushion, thinking.] Perhaps there is a god or a devil who has decided we are escaping our punishment by being participating in this program, and they have decided to take matters into their own hands.
Richie lets his head roll to better look him over. He's weary of course, but even then oddly reserved. Mulling over something with dire implications.]
Could be. [Seems to be. Even so, the idea doesn't sit right with him.] Have we all sinned so much we're deserving of this?
[This being their wounds. The salt poured into them, the lunacy and the weekend ballyhoo. A rug pull just when they though there was a helping hand to reach for, flicking the off switch on the guiding light.]
Maybe you or me. Sure. By some divine force's measure, maybe we need to get raked over the coals. I can't imagine someone like Koharu has earned that kind of judgment.
I am a murderer. I'm not surprised to be punished for my deeds in life. But there are others who are... soft. Kind. Children, like Koharu. [a sigh.] I was told we didn't make the cut for arbitrary reasons. I assume the same applies to those like her, too.
[It's not as if he thought Mizu carried the sword for show. Even so, it's a blatant admission. Not even couching it in self-soothing words to ease his ego. Less high-minded morals than a lot of others maybe, or just realistic enough to know it doesn't matter.
Richie, on the other hand, is forever outclassed and outdone by his fellow souls. If you wanted to squint at the issue, you could call him a killer. You'd catch him more handily on vice, but since when did that warrant being literally eaten alive?]
...I suppose if making the cut is arbitrary, then maybe punishment is too.
[Not looking forward to that. Seeing kids pay for things grown folks would shudder to pony up for.]
Why did you? Kill, I mean? [He's feeling a little woozy from the day. It's a bad one, and he'll need to rest soon, as will Mizu no doubt, but he's got a mind to chase a few threads before he goes.] You're free to tell me to go fuck myself for asking, by the way. I'd get it.
[sometimes... you even tell multiple people on the intro mingle and the npc intro post about it. acknowledging you're a murderer and feeling remorse are two very different things.]
I have killed many men. And I will kill many more if I am sent back. [very bluntly.] I made a vow. If god expects me to abandon it as part of my redemption, they will be sorely disappointed.
[Richie is quiet a moment. Out of his time, out of his depth, even out of his damn mind.
He could ask what for. He can imagine things. Wrongs to be righted, slights, family members cut down, Shakespearian betrayals. It won't be pretty, and it might sour whatever small concession is being made to have this conversation. Either for Mizu's patience or his own morals.
If you told him you were a stone cold killer back in Los Angeles, he'd be looking for an exit and calling the cops. Here?
Richie sighs and shakes his head.]
My goodness, Mizu. You really are straight out of the myths of old. Nobody commits to the bit so hard in my day — not with such a cool head, anyway. I can think of maybe two: the one is only after a single target, and the other is nuttier than a sack of peanuts. One-man-armies are hard to come by in peace times.
[He shrugs.]
Hell, maybe there is a legend about you somewhere. I'll check the library if I ever make it back.
[sometimes, the guy who has been threatening to kill you as a joke for weeks is, in fact, a serial killer. mizu watches his reaction carefully for a moment, before scoffing.]
Hah. I doubt it. Even if we both came from the same worlds, centuries apart, there is no man out there who would record my deeds. A creature of shame would be considered better off forgotten by history.
[And yet, he will continue to not take a single threat seriously....meet me in the murder doc quynn]
Oh, you'd be surprised. People love a bloody sensation.
[He tilts his head though, eyes closing a moment as a wave of dizziness pulses through him. He grimaces and puts his hand to his bandaged shoulder. Keeps a pressure there. Steels himself through the wave of pain.]
...I don't get what's so "shameful" about you, though. Or "creature"-like, for that matter.
White men, such as yourself, are banned from entering my country. It has been the law for decades now.
[looks at him, holding his gaze for a moment like the problem here should be obvious. but, well, they've got so many people here with a variety of eye colors, regardless of their race. it's not as blatantly obvious here. not like mizu is used to.
sighs and settles a bit more into the cushions. richie should probably settle down, too, because he's about to get hit with so much internalized racism.]
... There were four white men in the country at the time I was born. Traders in opium, weapons and flesh. One of those men took my mother and impregnated her — with me. My very existence is considered monstrous in the eyes of men.
Richie meets that gaze. And suddenly, it clicks. Oh sure, on meeting him he'd thought "Oh that's unusual", looking into glassy blue eyes, and then moved on without a second thought. But genetics played more footloose and fancy free than you'd expect. You had biracial babies sprouting ginger hair when red genes ought to concede to champion heavyweights like black or brown. Sometimes you got amber eyes, or albinism, or any number of things in between. Taair had the colouring of a Scandinavian but the features and name of a South Asian noble. Not to mention Elysia's hair was cotton candy pink. An unexpected blue was not thing too shocking at home, and certainly easy to overlook here.
Mizu, on the other hand, is of a very tempestuous time and place. Richie's gut sinks as the details come in like whacks from a hammer. Decisive, hard, and damning. He's quiet in their wake. Lord, what could he even say?]
...Yeah. That sounds about right. [He lets his burning shoulder go, tentative, to right his glasses on his face.] We have...a long and storied history of being the worst thing to ever happen to a place. Any place. There's still fallout happening centuries after the fact. Maybe a lot of us have wised up but it's not the sort of thing you can smooth over with a bouquet of roses and an apology card.
[Hoo boy, could they get into it. Mizu you have no idea what all you've missed.
Except that's only half the problem. He purses his lips, chancing meeting his eyes. Icy blue. Barely a chance to disguise it, huh?]
Maybe it's pointless to say, but people have eased up about it. Being mixed race. Or any race for that matter. Sure you still got your bigoted assholes — there was a real piece of work in my hometown — but they're fewer and further between. Anybody with a lick of sense and half a heart knows a body's just a body. No matter the shape, size, or colour.
...Still. I'm sorry. [He sighs heavy, and lets his focus flick back to his own knees.] I can't imagine what it might have been like.
[quietly. obviously mulling over those words, and for more reasons that richie could possibly know or understand right now.]
Sounds like a pretty lie. Though... perhaps not an impossible one, I suppose. At home, everyone knows my shame as plain as my face. Yet none of you seem to care, or even notice. [hmm.] This is a strange place.
To be fair, it's also a place where guys have dog ears and Wis'adel has that thing floating behind her at all times. Hell, Koharu has wings. Easy to overlook anything more subtle than that.
...I'll be frank with you, I got a little wrapped up in the other half of the courtroom. Paid a little less attention to her side of the story. Hard to get a clear picture of everything all at once.
But...I do have worries about it. That kid was a trouble maker but not a murderous one. [He sighs.] Or at least not if he was still himself.
[Huffs and remembers the bite mark Brimstone left on his arm. Gone forever now, thank you Hoolay.]
She could have done. Though it's easier to believe she was the victim, when she still seemed in her right mind. Having big ol' doe eyes doesn't hurt either. [He purses his lips, troubled.] I don't love having to think so low of the gal, but there'll be eyes on her now for sure. And if there really is a god keeping tally of who's naughty and who's nice, maybe we'll get the truth yet.
Worse, I believe we can expect to do it again come this weekend. Lockdown was the same time as the last. Like clockwork.
Sure, I don't enjoy it either. But she must have know what she was getting into. There were enough things left unaddressed in her account to make it suspect, anyway. The soreness Zhongli reported, just to name one. She will either be monitored until the end of our program, or someone opportunistic will come after her soon.
[what the fuck happened to the people in the market, anyway... oh, well. sighs and shakes head.]
It will happen again. It was naive to believe it wouldn't in the first place. Next time will be worse, and so will the week after that.
Not going to lie, I have a funny feeling she'll be one of the next big announcements come Friday. But we'll see.
[Because yeah. Just pushing his glasses up and giving a bitter laugh.]
Fine way to test our character, isn't it? Unless the theory about outside interference is holding water. Playing off our sins and rigging the game so that nobody redeems themselves at all. Wiping people right off the map. It's enough to make me wish there were no gods at all. I would love a big black abyss of nothing right about now, seems a better deal than this horseshit.
...If you ever find someone's acting off, or you have other reasons to suspect them, you can always bounce the ideas off me. Or Claude or Taair, I expect. No sense in stewing in silence when there's lives on the line.
... I'm more convinced of outside interference. For now. The inane complexity of putting us through this program despite having decided to get rid of us already is stupid. Just wipe us off the map, as you say, and be done with it if that's their intention.
[but, also? raises an eyebrow at him, with that last bit.]
The three of you, huh. Are we bonded for life now?
Also meets his raised brow with an equally raised brow.]
How could we be? We're dead. [haha. But he shrugs.] Can't hurt to have a couple people in your corner, can it? Though I get it. You may have gotten cat ears back then, but we all know you're a lone wolf.
You just don't have to be. Not 100% of the time, at least, and not when the shit hits the fan. Offer's open.
Ought I chop off the last half of that and take it as a "No"?
[But what did he expect? This one's a tough nut. And a bit of a delusional one too. He was lucid enough for three seconds on arrival, just enough to see him haul after Claude and Taair in their mara-struck forms while spewing blood like a lawn sprinkler.
Richie pulls a drag on the smoke and blows the grey wisps out in a thin stream, shrugging easy. It's no skin off his back, but still. In spite of it all he's got a spot of affection for the guy — a wary, distanced one, but an investment nonetheless. Same as the rest of the crew. If they aren't going into this at least somewhat together, what are the odds they're going to beat what's coming?]
If it please you, Mizu. Just think on it a while. Two heads are better than one.
Richie smiles, small and humble for once. Whether Mizu would actually follow through is one thing, but he'll have mercy tonight. He knows he wears on his patience, and they've had enough tribulation for one weekend.]
Fair enough. [he tips the cigarette in a casual, one-handed salute and makes to turn away.] Take it easy, Mizu. We're knee deep in it now, and who knows what's waiting for us around the bend?
Richie is doing better than he was this weekend but still sore as shit. Obviously. He's moving better now though. Where might he find Mizu...and in what condition...]
[I GUESS THIS CAN BE POST JABBERWOCKY so they're somewhere out in town, with mizu's recently bandaged ass casually hobbling out of the hospital. this is fine.
stops hobbling to frown at him.]
There's something I need to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?
[SCREAMS TWO MORE SECONDS OF GOOGLING LATER AND I REALIZE IT'S ORIGINALLY BOB DYLAN AND GNR DIDN'T COVER IT UNTIL 1990...PRETEND HE SAID BOB DYLAN FIRST I'M LOSING IT
He listens with a frown.]
It seems to be. Same word, twice in a row.
And no offense to Gamaliel but a voicemail from the great beyond is a little less surprising than a murderous quarantine enforced by invisible hands.
[richie is still ten years older than taair. also he calls his own peers kid, no one escapes]
That it does.
She told me she's about 35 but choosing to look like a teenager. Whatever that means. I'm not going to denigrate how they run things based on what they look like, but it does tamper a few expectations.
Though there's a lot kids can do that old shits like me can't. Especially ones from other times and places.
I was thinking either to keep in theme with the other two, or maybe there was something important about that age for her she had to revisit. A reckoning with her past, if you will.
Whether or not it's any of our business is another matter, but there you have it. Another age-defying anomaly in our midst.
[Regrettably, they are at the bar at the same time.
Richie has arrived first. And, bewilderingly, ordered a rice wine for himself. His head turns when he hears the door open, but only offers Mizu half a smile and a nod, turning back to his drink in silence.]
[wowie! imagine being powerful enough to write an actual starter during memshare week. anyway, they are both stuck in the funhouse for the long haul while one of mizu's memories plays over the mirrors. at first quiet, then loud and chaotic — before ultimately ending in heartbreak.
the only reason mizu hasn't shattered the fuck out of the mirrors or richie's collarbones is because his presence hasn't been noticed yet. mizu stands as still as a statue, a white knuckled grip around the hilt of that very same sword pictured in the memory, and eyes dark while watching the memory come to its inevitable conclusion.]
[the way i opened this and immediately closed it because i did not know if i could handle watching it again.
Good thing for Richie's brittle bones that he hasn't been spotted yet. It's not like he's aiming to snoop. Even the first trip here put him off the place — it's like the cave, but worse. Much worse. When he's pitched into the maze by force and sees it's Mizu up head, when what he's watching slots into place, he goes so still he nearly stops breathing.
The figure, half bare beneath a blanket, should make sense to him, but doesn't. He registers a curve where there ought not to be. A quality to a voice so familiar it masked the obvious. The tender conversation sounds alien to him. Then, clothed and sexually dimorphic, it makes sense. Sharp, sudden, and obliterating. Just as the husband of the year comes to a callous shock a minute later, bested and then pinned beneath the woman he's promised himself to.
The woman, bandaged and loose-clothed, low voiced, only exposed when you exhume the tomb. There's been a case or nine or ten throughout history, hasn't there? Life was rough shit for women in most centuries, most countries, most anywhere. God forbid you were good at something a man was. God forbid you wanted anything more than homemaking, being paid for in dowries and traded like chattel. Worse when you were already marked as a bastard. You couldn't hide those blue eyes, but you could strap down your curves and carry yourself with a broad back, dress for the part and cut down whatever stood in your way.
Richie holds in the shadows. He doesn't dare come closer nor open his mouth. There couldn't be anything worse to walk in on, could there? Not for Mizu.
So, he does the sane thing. Touches a hand to the wall to guide himself, and slips out the opposite way.
From her vantage, there will be a shift in a reflected shadow on a mirror nearby. A blink and you'll miss it moment where his back is exposed, before he turns a corner and vanishes from all reflections.]
[just so you know, the name for this one on my memshare list is [bill wurtz voice] the biggest fumble in the history of japan 🥹
unfortunately for richie, his presence is not so easily missed. the memory has burned itself into mizu's mind with such detail, that even the slightest deviation on what is currently being reflected in the mirror is enough to catch her attention. something out of place. the reflection of a shadow that does not belong here.
for just a fraction of a second, her blood runs cold and she finds herself frozen in place. then that millisecond passes, and she's sprinting down the fucking maze, chasing him down like a bat out of hell. richie's dex stat was not enough to help him avoid getting kissed by claude just earlier today.
it's probably not enough to save him from getting throttled by mizu, who is absolutely going to throw him to the ground and pin him there if she catches up with him. run, white boy. run.]
[THAT'S BECAUSE IT IS. And omg is she finally gonna kill him...uguu
No but he should have expected this. Really. There is no chance, no competition. The sudden clatter of feet sends his heart stuttering, and he has a half an inkling to run.
She's on him before his legs even kick in. Richie hits the ground with a sharp gasp (his glasses fling off and clack against a mirror) and hisses at the chokehold pin, body tense, arm jerked back to hit.
Then he blinks through the shock. Eyes on hers.
And simply puts his hand down to the side. He says nothing. Waiting.]
[yeah! she's gonna kill him off schedule. the mods find out after she texts the npcs to pick up the corpse.
or maybe not? unfortunately, richie's gonna survive this encounter. but it might look like a near thing for a moment.
at some point between chasing him down and throwing him to the ground, mizu has procured a kitchen knife out of seemingly nowhere. a knife that she now holds to his throat — not with enough force to actually cut him, but certainly enough to be a threat.
resting all of her weight down on him, legs to both side of his hips and the other hand pressing down on his shoulder, mizu glares down at him.]
If you tell a single soul about what you just saw, I will kill you. Do you understand?
[unlike all the other times she's threatened him, this one does not sound like a joke.]
[It was his ghost memsharing the moon landing on the mingle
Let's not kid ourselves here, that knife threatens to cut through whatever line of thought he might be clinging to. Worse still are those eyes. He can take the irritation, the flare ups of her temper and her frustration.
This glare is sharper. This one's meant to spear him through his skull and into the floor. If looks could kill, baby this would be a nuclear bomb.
Richie barely breathes, but he scrapes enough air together for words. Low, straining under her weight and the murderous airs.]
...Why would I want to?
[That's not the problem here. It's his knowing at all. Mizu could care less about the logistics on his part.
His hand stays put on the ground, even if it flexes, redirecting the tension. He may wince under the scrape of the knife but he has to say his peace.]
You wouldn't want me to know. So I don't have to know. [He keeps his eyes steady on hers. Not fearful, but serious. Solemn as the grave.] It's none of my business, and I won't make it mine.
[she narrows her eye at him, keeping the knife steady against his throat. good survival instincts right there, richie. the last man who got held at knifepoint by mizu was not nearly as cooperative.
the logistics truly do not matter here. only the fact that he knows. unfortunately, despite the fact that there are other girls here who obviously have been living their best lives, knowing that woman have rights in another world or in the distant future does not erase 20 whole ass years of being traumatized by the circumstances of your own fucking birth. being told that the bad men will get you was not a threat, but a promise.]
[she stares at him for a moment longer, as if searching for any hint of a lie.
then the moment passes and she lets out a sharp exhale. pulls back and tucks the knife away somewhere under her cloak, out of sight and far, far away from his throat.]
... Fine.
[she'll get off him now, rising to her feet and shooting a glance at where his glasses fell earlier. but she doesn't offer him a hand up, like an asshole.]
[He won't lie, the pause has him nervous. Not that he believes Mizu is that callous, but rather that she might be that afraid. That she might think of his ever flapping mouth and decide the risk is too great to bear, and do away with him.
Then she rolls off and nothing more comes of it.
Richie takes a moment on the ground. No hand up, fine, he wouldn't expect it on a good day. Much less what's competing to be the worst day of his life. He comes to his knees and looks around, spying his glasses round the way of Mizu's glance. He fishes them over and puts them on before rising in full, dusting off his slacks.
There's a pensive tension drawing his features lean as he looks at her. Several sentiments dance at the tip of his tongue. I understand. I'll never understand. You deserved better.
You're no monster.
It would paint an ugly swatch over whatever fragile peace they've brokered. He can't think of a single thing to say that would come off congenial. The mood is all gun powder and lit matches, there would be a blowout if he tried.
So, for the time being, Richie just nods. Curt, succinct, over and done with. He doesn't like leaving her like that, but he'll do it.
Except as he turns to go, the mirrors light up around them. Two young boys, laughing at their own jokes. Then one pulls out his father's pistol.
Richie freezes. Back to Mizu, head turned. Transfixed. Eyes wide and face paling.]
[upsetting news! the most mid white guy you know has some supernatural bullshit happening in his life, too. what the fuck.
wanting revenge for a lost loved one is something mizu understands. it's simple. completely normal. easy to wrap her mind around. considering she's been swinging a sword around since the age of 6, all in the name of her revenge, she totally gets why a little boy would want to put a few bullets in someone who killed his brother.
it's the everything else that she's having trouble understanding. she has absolutely zero frames of reference for werewolves or clowns. she doesn't even know what a bicycle is?? white people's boogiemen be wild, actually.
she glances at him then. still tense from the last five minutes and silent, but waiting to see if he's going to say anything or if he's going to simply try leave now — even though they're both lost in the maze.]
[God he would love to just be mid. He would give his other arm to stay mid.
It's for the best this isn't his first time seeing this one. It's his second peek at it today, and it was the first brush he'd had with these magic mirrors. He's doing better now.
That doesn't stop him rooting to the spot like he'd been pinned by arrows. That's after he withdraws from the visions on either side, dead center in the aisle as he watches with a shaking hand and a mouth clapped tight.
(will it stay in the glass this time? will it come out to play? will it push upon the surface and bulge it out, pawing to break free like all those years before)
When the bullets fire and the blows rain down on the boys he flinches, shutting his eyes and bowing his head. He can only cover one ear, half deaf to the screams and the growls. Worst is the crying. Watching these two idiot kids bawling in the street, clinging to each other for dear life, neither one with a clue about the hell that's coming. That's only the beginning boys. You think it's rough now?
When the scene cuts out Richie holds position a moment. Settling himself before letting his head raise some. He doesn't look back to Mizu, his back still staunchly towards her.]
...You know...for a "fun"-house, we're sure having a real shit time.
[Fuck this.
Richie tucks his hand in his pocket and makes to leave.]
it's probably a little later in the day by now, and they are... somewhere. probably the void. either way, despite their last 1-on-1 conversation, mizu apparently has no time to waste on awkwardness or anything of the like. she zeroes in on him as soon as she spots him.]
Your glasses. You used them.
[straight to the point? okay.
and i guess she's also looking him over to make sure he isn't mysteriously injured or anything like that.]
[He doesn't look injured, though he is in long sleeves. But he looks worn, red around the eyes. He's sitting with a distinct slump in his shoulders and doesn't bother to rise.]
I did. [He concedes easily.] I'd hoped to see if I could catch Elysia having a conversation with her killer. And after setting that intention, I was made to understand it wouldn't hone in on someone who I couldn't identify in the first place.
So it gave me the next best thing. A conversation she had with both you and Akihiko, during the lock in.
[He huffs, teeth gritted in a bitter grin as he shakes his head.]
It would've been to convenient if it just told you who she was talking to after midnight. A shame.
[well, nobody can say richie didn't try.
there's a pause here, as if mizu is considering whether to say something or not — before she sighs. sharp and quick, like she's ripping off a bandaid.]
There's something else you should know. [though mizu is clearly unhappy about it.] Elysia, Akihiko and I spent the night in the fairgrounds. When I woke up, I found a bruise below my ribs.
A damn shame. Just a complete waste. Glad you had fun golfing, though.
[This is such horseshit. He wipes his face with a sigh.
But also hm.]
...You don't say. [Cants his head. Then, having to use his teeth on the cuff, pulls back his sleeve to reveal a bruise on his forearm.] I was in the funhouse — not by choice — with Shadowheart, Anders, Wis'adel, Kaworu, and Ali. And I woke up with this.
I was telling Lucas it might well be another apple situation, but it could also be these so-called possessions are ramping up. We may have two lost causes on our hands.
...Not that I'd be thrilled about any configuration. It's an ugly game no matter how you play it.
... Yes. Though if it's another apple situation, I will insist that we dole out some kind of tangible consequence. We cannot be swayed by a pair of sad eyes and claims of self-defense again.
I haven't spoken to the gal since. I don't...I can't stand by it. Not against a child.
[he doesn't give a shit about ghost clone bullshit dan was absolutely a baby]
...If we have some special goodies at trial, we might be able to suss out whether someone did go for an apple once we corner them. Maybe it would be a waste, or whoever was in charge of it might be morally opposed, but it's a thought.
Well Mizu, if it ever turns out I'm on the chopping block, I will absolutely give you the first swing. I'd rather the mercy of your blade than whatever the fuck would come for me at expulsion.
[Aaah these vibes are bad. Richie's out for a stroll. Too antsy to sit around anywhere, head still pounding too hard to consider a drink. Maybe tomorrow.
He's got the free ice pack in hand but he's only holding onto it, applying on and off at leisure. He nods to Mizu when their paths cross.]
One down, and one off Scot-free. Looking bad for our track record, isn't it?
He did. Didn't even bother to hide it, the fucker.
[You don't need emotionshare week to feel the bitterness radiating off this one. He'd liked Elysia. Quite a lot, to tell the truth. He'd be furious seeing her killed no matter what the cause.
This? This is insult on top of injury. Richie grits his teeth and shakes his head.]
Well, we've never had one fly free before. Maybe they'll start showing signs. Get a little more obvious with it, even before Thursday.
If Daigo had been less of an idiot, he would've just confessed and spared us the trouble of wasting time investigating the lengths of his foolishness. I would've even been kind enough to let him pick which limb to lose.
[elychie real... i see...]
But he didn't, so now we have to rely on their mental state deteriorating enough to make the affliction obvious. [... a pause, and she frowns.] Putting them down without earning ourselves another trial will be an issue, however.
[unfortunately, i must report that mizu's vibes are mostly positive while hanging around richie. with some flares of annoyance here and there, and a bit of a subtle cautious edge. but... mostly positive? terrible. hateful. stop perceiving.
no matter what mizu is feeling, there's always something a little off in the background of it all. tired and angry and muted. this is fine.]
Huh. [a blip of amusement. stabbing a metal worm might have been fun, actually.] Then perhaps I'll take Shadowheart along next time and you can deal with Anders.
[What incredible odds that no one was dead at the tavern.
Richie will be out at the soundstage again. Smoking, low morale. No booze this time though. There's a sense of loss coming through — may not have known the guys well, but loss is still a loss. Moreover, the bad vibes carry through from last night into today. Guilt and melancholy, queasy anxiety. Fear.
He's picking idly through the records. Bowie's The Man Who Sold the World is on rotation, and on reasonable volume. He's not looking for company, but he'll wave to Mizu when he sees her passing by.]
[incredible odds, sure. but that just means that there's absolutely no way none of them killed.
mizu's mood isn't as rancid as richie's, but it is still decidedly grim. a weary sort of anger over everything that's happened and everything that's yet to come.]
If they killed again, yes. Perhaps we'll catch them this time.
Maybe longer infection means they'll be sloppier. [Or they are just desperate for death oocly, who knows.] I don't have any suspicious bruises, by the by.
[The music idles on behind their weekly conversation. They follow the same beats as all the last and Bowie underpins it with a hollow melancholy.
For years and years, I roamed I gazed a gazely stare At all the millions here We must have died alone A long, long time ago...
For once it brings him no peace. Richie grimaces and lifts the needle, regarding the spinning disc with an undefined frustration.]
...You ever realize how cheap the things that feed you are, midway through a bite?
[Sorry, Starman. This ain't the time or place it seems. He'll make it up to you someday.]
Neither do I. [or else she would be so much more angry than she is right now.] Nor anyone else I've spoken to from the crowd at the tavern. Or at least, none they've admitted to.
[she glances at the sound equipment with the look of someone who absolutely does not get the appeal of david bowie. goodbye, sir. she will not be looking forward to hearing from you again.]
... Speak plainly. [bluntly, but not... trying to be an asshole here.] Something is bothering you. Even more than what's usual on a Friday. What is it?
[This is heartbreaking...Mizu he was a legend you don't understand.
His lips thin though, at the callout. Carefully he pries the record off and tucks it back into its sleeve. Switches the damn thing off while he's at it.]
...Fidelio, Anders, and Shadowheart went to my hometown yesterday. For their little field trip.
They'd all seen...they got bits and pieces of the picture, last week. But I don't think I said enough. Not enough to help.
[Which might seem silly. They both know how immediate and consuming those trips can be. Might not have made a difference at all.
No. [Mizu's right. Richie knows she is, and so was he when he talked to other people and shook them up over their own misplaced guilt.
It just won't stop sticking, though. He scrubs a hand over his face.]
I just...fucking hate this place. How it swizzles a spoon around your brain and scoops up the worst shit in there just to fling at you. At other people — I could manage if it was just me. I can't stand that It hurt them, too.
Bad enough that we didn't finish the job back in the day. That more kids...that much is our fault. We thought we followed through, and we didn't. Now we get to pay for it in life and death alike. Fucking incredible.
It's the nature of this place. Or what it's become, with this... interloper. Our own memories are weapons to be wielded by somebody else. But the longer you spend wallowing in your own pity, the less time you'll have to take action. I doubt any of them would want your apologies, anyway.
[not necessarily trying to be mean about his guilt, but she is blunt about it. del, anders and shadowheart don't seem like the type who would want him to feel bad over it, anyway. that said... hm. raising an eyebrow at him.]
They didn't. [Because of course he gave them. Reflexive, but also commiserative. They looked like they'd been through the meat grinder.] But you have a point.
[A layer strips off the swirl of negativity. For now at least. Moods come and go, and they're not moving onto bigger and brighter things tomorrow.
[Oh, she can judge. It doesn't stop the funny, bitter smile from creaking across his cheeks. He meets her eyes with a strange brand of resignation. Grief. Low-thrumming dread.]
On any other occasion, I'd whole-heartedly agree — except it's not something you fight with force. It's more about pliability of the mind. Easier to confront the unbelievable when you're young and willing to believe. As grown men and women...
[He trails off. Looks to the side with a sigh.]
As kids, we came down to square off against it and all seven of us walked out of there with our skins in tact. Scared to death, but alive.
This time? There's about three left. Four, if we're lucky and Mike pulls through. I don't know. Maybe it picked the rest of them off after taking care of me.
...Guess I'll have to find out at the end of our funny little program.
the way she immediately thinks about the stupid apples, but that's not something she should suggest and not something that should be an option at all. shouldn't even be on the map.
there's a twinge of something awful when he describes the situation before he died. concerned and almost scared for him. but he won't see any of it on her face.]
... I don't understand. [the fact that children would have an easier time squaring off against it, as opposed to grown ass adults. it's boggling.] What is it about your enemy that makes it much more dangerous to you now? What do you need to believe in?
[Unfortunate, but the same thought has tugged at his mind more than once. Not enough to persuade him, but you don't go starving for weeks and staunchly ignore a steak dangled through the cage bars.
Her response triggers something apologetic in him. Not hidden as expertly as anything she feels, there's a twinge at the corner of his mouth that gives him away. But he doesn't speak on it. Best to pretend like they aren't communicating on two layers at once, he finds. Most everyone prefers it that way.]
Honestly, I barely understand myself. It sounds so fucking stupid to speak on it. I wasn't pulling your leg when I said my world was regular — probably a billion to one odds on seeing something truly out of the ordinary. Almost nobody knows.
[Which is the other punch in the dick. No knowledge, no precedence, no help.]
It's sort of...it works with your imagination. Pulls shapes out of your own head — whatever scares you, what's been grating on your mind, that's what it'll be, and that's what will come to kill you. And it's not affected by the world as we know it. It can't be seen unless it lets you see it, and fighting back with brute force doesn't cut it.
You saw a bit yourself. My buddy Bill shot it with the gun and it barely slowed It down, even if he blew a chunk of its skull out. Or what looked like a chunk. Wearing the wound like it was part of the illusion.
But if you fight fire with fire — use your own imagination, play pretend? For some goddamn reason that lays into it better than any knife or bullet can. [There's an unusual brand of embarrassment tied in here, because he knows how utterly cracked he sounds. She'd be in the right to blow him off, if she hadn't watched the same memory he had.
The bullet? Might as well have shot off a rubber band. Richie doing a cockamamie voice out of the blue? Throwing a dumbshit prank powder at it? Well golly, that sure stuck it to him! Richie grimaces and wipes at his face. He'd rather crawl into a dank hole than elaborate, but here we are.]
Kids can do that. Kids can buy into all kinds of shit if you don't knock the wind out of their sails too quick. Grown ups? [He squints, waggles his hand.] Hard to believe in anything you can't touch, buy, or sell.
Which is too bad. It doesn't need you to believe in jack shit to pull your head off your shoulders. It just prefers them young.
[it would honestly be very understandable if he went for it. even if 1) it would not end well and 2) she would drag him back to murder him herself if he got himself executed. but it's fine? it's fine. (beeguns you if this is a death flag)]
... So because you've grown and no longer have a child's imagination, it's harder for you to just believe you have the means to kill it. Even though you know that's what you need to do to fight back against it.
[too bad they can't bring the baby curse back with them.]
In one sense, sure. In another, could you stop in the middle of fighting for your life and convince yourself to do something completely fucking insane? [He waves his hand.] It's fine, it's not like I understand all the logistics either. I don't know why anything does or doesn't work, where that kind of power comes from. I just know that it is.
[There is just so little explanation for anything. He suspects he'll never find out, either. There's cosmic forces at play all right, but not ones that care to make an introduction. He could envy Shadowheart and Anders that.]
Because we hurt it, and we gave it the slip. I don't think It ever knew what it was like for the food to bite back. It didn't much like it.
If I get to go back and pick up where I left off, just try try again. We did have it on its last legs, I think. Maybe Bill and I can make the last blows stick.
If I die again, then...pfft. Fuck it. Better to go out giving it my all rather than live with my tail between my legs.
[And now that he knows some form of afterlife awaits them, maybe death is a touch more palatable.]
[my mizu....tears in my eyes....mine not richie's he'd already got his out before she came by.]
...Thanks. [The vibes are pretty much what you'd expect, albeit numbed. He was already feeling dismal after the weekend, the teenage brawl today. This made him hit a chilly plateau.] I'm sorry, too.
[For what it's worth. Whether he and Mizu had been close after leaving that false life, he can't say. But loss is a loss.]
I did. [quietly. somber.] ... The lost souls had been hinting at it in their letters. I intended to tell you in the new week, when he could no longer perceive your emotions.
[but instead he had to watch claude die in front of god and everyone, without any sort of warning. and that she regrets.]
[There's a flicker of anger. Quickly smothered, loathing turning inward, swallowed up numb again. It makes sense, doesn't it?]
Unless I was supposed to decipher a third rate alphabet code, I don't believe anyone saw fit to warn me. Can't say I blame them — it is a bad week to have a hot-head in the loop.
[It was the right thing to do. He's not equipped to handle the truth. Not to deal with it, in the way it needs to be dealt with, and certainly not to smooth out his mind and quell suspicion.
Still. It grates on him, sharply.]
Did you know about what Uruha and Saber were planning?
[well. the reason he's describing is exactly why she held off telling him, so she can't say he's wrong. but she hates feeling how quickly he internalizes it. sucks.]
Rich... [god. she lets out a sharp exhale, shaking her head.] That I didn't know about. It sounds like they made a move as soon as they narrowed it down to him.
[which she's gotta respect, honestly. you do not hesitate with this shit. though she now regrets not giving him a heads up, or even poor koharu.]
[His mouth makes a thin line and his eyes are on his tea. He flicks the handle, spinning it a little on the saucer. Nothing spilled.]
Fair. Especially since they came at him with the whistle. No hiding after that, is there?
[There's a drop. Anger is still there, but it's wrangled at the neck by a plummeting resignation.]
...I know it was better to...take care of it. Before it got worse. [He almost says more. You know that Claude hid his infection on our own trip, right? Bites it back. The kid had trouble trusting enough already, there's no point spilling old secrets now. Even if they're playing parallel to the thing that got him axed.] Just was a shock is all.
... Quite. Just as much as a shock for him, I suppose.
[too bad for him that the dead came after his ass.
watching your roommate get stabbed as the final touch on an already terrible weekend cannot be good, though. especially as someone who comes from a relatively normal life, murder clowns aside. man. the regret is here to stay.]
If it brings you any comfort, he was already dead to begin with. Now he's with the rest of our lost souls... Who are not so lost anymore, as of last week.
Oh, I know. It's a shame that it still looks like a final blow. And feels like one.
[He looks to her, mouth twisted to one side. Maybe he feels like he lost three rounds with a Jeep Cherokee, but the blunt words do help. Small things.]
at least she knew claude was a dead man before uruha and saber killed him right in front of their doorstep, so it's fine. anticipated loss and all that.]
You'll see him again. [said like it's a guaranteed.] ... But first, we have three more weeks of this program to get through. Do try to stay all right until then.
[or else. she will fucking throttle him if he dies, thank you.]
Me either. Can't figure where to start. Hi, howyadoin, how the fuck did this happen on your watch?
[omnipotent his ass.
But ah.]
...It's a consideration, of course. Opens up a good deal of possibilities. Might change a fair few minds. [Seems a touch too good to be true if he's being honest.] You giving it a think, Mizu?
shaking her head in response to his question, though.]
I have no interest in changing my past, or abandoning my vow. [hope all the alternate timeline mizus are having a better one, though. even if it's extremely weird to even consider.] ... But I was wondering what you thought about it. For yourself.
[he is still very much stuck with a murderous clown situation?]
See, that's what I like about you, Mizu. Never a word minced.
[Whereas he can't stop expanding on the thought. To each their own.
His mouth thins though. It's a touchy train of thought. He hasn't finished riding it yet, the routes still percolating.]
Oh, I'm thinking all right. I'd need some idea of the parameters. What is or isn't possible and how it gets done. [He looks down. Away, gaze distant.] ...Depends how far back I'd have to rewind the clock to change things. Just that last night? A couple days before? Turn up on an old friend's doorstep before he takes a razor to his wrists, stop him from skipping the trip?
Or hell, take it back to when we were kids? [He bites the inside of his lip. Chuckling again, though mirthlessly now.] Before the first batch even bit it?
It's hard not to feel like you're cheating someone, if you're not trying to save everyone. It's also a good way to drive yourself bugshit.
[... a small huff, almost a laugh. but completely devoid of humor.]
Can you imagine it? You, as you are now, but in the body of a child.
[it would be funny in a very terrible way, if the rest of it wasn't so... bleak...]
Personally, I'd start by prioritizing your own life. There's no shame in that. [you can't help anyone if you don't save yourself, anyway??? be selfish.] But you have two more weeks to think about it. It's only one more option to consider.
[That would be a hell of a time if it weren't a wretched last resort.]
You're right, of course. Maybe keeping it simple is the best way to go about it. I'll write our dear Lord about it, see if I can't get a little godly input.
[But also, he's a little tired of spinning the matter around his mind. It hasn't led to anything productive, and he's tired of putting the spotlight all on him.]
...Mizu, I never asked what happened to you, did I? [He looks to her, the question digging a line between his brows.] I mean, I can guess, but I never got the full picture.
[nods. please do something about yourself, buddy. but also... hm.]
No. Though I don't make a secret of it.
[mizu may be secretive about a lot of things, but this is not one of them, at least. though the way she just says it is probably a bit too casual, considering...]
There was a fire. One that burned hot enough to consume an entire castle. [and it was kind of her own fault, but she refrains from saying this.] The building collapsed under its own weight while I was still inside.
It's more complicated than that. I could go back to minutes before I died, when the fire was set. Avoid it all together.
[and it should be an easy choice. it really should! but mizu looks down at her hand, slowly clenching it into a fist and then relaxing it like she's recalling her grip around something in particular.]
But I had one of the men I am sworn to kill right where I wanted him. He was at my complete mercy. Regardless of what I do to save my life, I must not let him escape with his.
[there's a reason why mizu was less "oh no i'm dead" and more "is that fucker also dead" right on w0. this fucking dumbass.]
[Fuck. It's not like he can convince her to just let this one go, huh?]
Do you have any idea of where he might have been before he got to where you had him? Maybe you can rewind things enough to corner him in a less flammable locale.
[he absolutely cannot. :) mizu will die on this hill! twice. she's already done it once, after all.]
On his way to storm a castle with an army of men armed with guns. [very dryly, like. the window of opportunity is just Bad.] And before that, I was... indisposed. For some months.
Very glad it's not emotionshare week rn. He'd have blasted out some truly wretched vibes. By late afternoon all he's got left are his smokes, the salt and surf of the beach, and the impending company padding over the sand.]
Three. Fuck me, what the hell are we supposed to do with that many?
it's pretty telling that mizu is holding onto her phone in a death grip, sometimes glancing at the last texts from ramiel like there's further information to be gleamed from them... but, obviously, there ain't shit to be found there besides a short list of where they all died.]
The same thing we always do. We focus, and we figure things out.
Sure fucking hope so. Hard enough to narrow down just one as is. [Richie scoffs, shaking his head and pulling a drag on his cigarette. It does little to soothe him.] ...Did you know Yves took an apple?
Much too kind. [A beat.] Granted, he'd already spilled to a fair few folks. Off the top of my head: Uruha and Saber, Lucas, Anders and Shadowheart. And I believe JQ and Bas know now, but I don't know if they were aware before today.
Something to keep in mind. Not that it's a definitive motive. Especially since motive barely seems to matter most of the time.
[And it's not a list he likes. That's the other thing about dwindling numbers. Your suspects become as dear as your victims, and pointing fingers gets harder and harder to do.]
With how few of us are left, that might as well be nearly all of us. Especially if they're prone to gossip. [frowns, thinking.] ... Do you think his apple is still around? If he thought the person attacking him was afflicted.
[ME PLUMBOBS.............. i guess at some point the boys stop clinging to mizu and get medical attention. sorry about your sudden baby acquisition and baby loss, sir.
Richie's face is presumably bandaged, glasses returned to him. His foot must also be in a cast and we assume his ass is bandaged, hope del and maomao had fun with that one.
There's a distinct reluctance to look Mizu in the eyes at the moment. And for a moment the dreamscape bleeds through — smoke on the air. Fire flickers somewhere out of sight, the sound prickling at their ears.
Richie flinches and shakes his head.]
It wasn't too different from last time. New life, new me. All of a night, though, no centuries beyond our years.
mizu startles a little when the smoke starts rolling in, though it doesn't last long enough for her to actually do anything about it. dreamscape jumpscares are her new enemy, after this week.]
... I see. It must have been one hell of a night. [slowly. and then, wondering how to breach the topic.] Was that all? You and Taair both kept — apologizing.
[Richie goes quiet. Not quite avoiding her gaze, but clearly fighting the urge to.]
...Well. We weren't put there to party, I'll tell you that much. [He swallows thickly. Partly to steel himself but also to soothe his raw throat. The seawater was unkind to him.] We were...paid to slay a demon.
[Money. All for money, no questions asked. It makes his belly roll like the barrel of a laundry machine, a constant and queasy tumble.]
You were sellswords, then. [they really grabbed the people who don't know how to fight for this, huh.] ... What matter of demon were you asked to kill?
[she has a suspicion after that return thread, but.]
[Hilarious casting all around. I feel like we should have been rolling with disadvantage the whole time honestly.
He holds even with her, miraculously. Doesn't flinch away yet, slowly shakes his head.]
We didn't get details off the top. Just that it was on the sixth floor of a castle. Had to go through hell first to find out.
[There's another flash of dreamscape. A tunnel with skeletons, big and small. Swept up in water. Slaying a guard, the Indiana Jones run in a trap-laden hall, the kitchens with old faces, the grenade. Richie flinches as the visions go haywire as their minds do. Psychoactive drugs taking them on a gorey ride, watching Claude die a second time in a surreal, bloody haze.
A woman rushing the door, Richie striking out on instinct. Her deadly tumble down the stairs.
It's that part that gets his head bowing. Shame pushes him down and out from whatever seat of dignity he could claim.]
[she doesn't seem to be at all surprised when the first set of images flash through the dreamscape. this is all familiar territory. it's mostly just frustrating that the entity took those experiences and used them to hurt the people she's come to care about.
and then there's that woman, and mizu freezes.]
What? [Why would I be—? baffled.] I recognize that castle. But it's one I fought my way through as I am now.
[as an adult. frowns, thinking...]
... I suppose the specifics don't matter. In the end, they took my experiences and used them to hurt you. And for that I am sorry, Rich.
[There is some small relief. Just a flash. Knowing it hadn't been exactly true to reality doesn't change that it's all echoes of her real past.]
...Is that where you passed away?
[They very much did set it on fire. And Mizu may have been fighting through it to find a different demon altogether. Could have swam through the tunnel with the tiny bones (brothers and sisters?), dodged the pitfalls and took poisoned soup in a silent kitchen. Whether she had as hard a hallucination as they did, he can't say. These trips tend to drip nightmares into a grounded, if false, reality. It happened last time. It happened this time. A Clown, a Spider. Eddie, twice.
Doesn't change that she was still treated like a goddamn pariah. Maybe there was a price on her head.]
Don't be. [Raspy, earnest. Ashamed.] I'm sorry. Those are...it's the kind of thing I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. To put a cliche to it.
But I mean it. They way they... [That maid. Callous as a crooked rock, didn't care what happened to the kid. That "thing." He didn't let Adolphe kill her, but he can't say he feels too sorry for leaving behind. He sighs, ragged.]
It's one thing to know, another thing to see. You deserved better.
No. [easily.] Death would come for me months later, in the spring.
[there's a little flicker of a thought, though. an image of a white man pinned down with a dagger at his throat, trying to convince her that he could still be useful with his slimy words. trying to tempt her with questions and no answers— don't you want to know which one tried to burn you alive as a baby? which one killed your mother?
and then it's gone.]
Don't be sorry, Rich. [she shakes her head, sighing. saying she's used to it probably doesn't help, but... she is used to it. it's just how it is. people don't always get what they deserve.] ... It was a long time ago. Before I was even old enough to remember it. Now if someone tries to kill me, I simply kill them first.
[The vision cuts through the muck of his own emotions. Richie watches him spin his bullshit and feels a swell of repulsion. Anger.
Burn her alive as a baby. Murder her mother in truth.
The man vanishes. He stares at the spot where he manifested, jaw locked tight and breathing with slow intent. There's a slimy son of a bitch if he ever saw one. Shit, he'd want to kill him too. Half does now, if he weren't laid up so low and lightyears away.]
...Handy thing that you're good at it. [Which should be a compliment, even if it feels backhanded the second after it leaves his mouth. He winces, shakes his head slow. And reaches for her hand, taking it in his own.] I just wish you never had to.
[The way her own husband looked at her in horror. The skeletons in the tunnel. The way the maid spoke about her, how the sneering bear of a man cooed out recollections of the violence done to her. Nothing but hell and scorn, her whole life.
There's a better world for you and it kills me you'll never get to see it.]
[purses her lips, expression pinched. maybe there is a better world somewhere out there, but... she shakes her head.]
There aren't any good options available to women in my world. [he knows what she is, so she's just gonna outright call herself a woman here. it is still very much the 17th century, unfortunately.] Who would I be, if I never had the need to pick up a sword? Another man's wife? A tolerable one at best, if I'm lucky.
[and the thought of it is... bad. she wasn't so keen on the idea of getting married off years ago. even less so now.]
I've accepted my lot in life. There's no need to feel sorry for me.
[what a trial!! richie was totally here for all nine hours of it.
mizu is so fucking tired, squinting and pinching the bridge of her nose to relieve a headache. but she looks up when they happen to cross paths. hello.
sighs.]
One last execution if all goes well. And then we're done.
[He's been training ever since his defeat at Majima's hands.
The thought is such an ugly one. Especially considering how low the man had already been brought. And with Siffrin as the culprit...well. Richie shakes his head.]
You'd think, if the Entity was under wraps, we might not have to deal with a coliseum brawl. Wasn't the original plan for explusion something a titch more peaceable?
Perhaps we'll see an expulsion free of the entity's direct influence. But Siffrin will still need to die. There's no other way to send them to the healing center. To cure them of their affliction.
[i'm good with anything! picks up all of the weekly effects and runs!! also yeah, taair is being tended by sweet del... they were kiss 31 i saw it with my own eyes.]
You'll find that you can stab many things to great effect.
[though... the goop is so gross. she's taking care to wipe down her katana in case any of that shit damages the metal. ugh. still, she pauses in the middle of this to glance at him.]
Despite having heard it before, your Lucas impression is... eerily spot on. And effective. Unexpectedly so.
[wdym the power of ~*~imagination~*~ works on more than just clowns. damn.]
[If they weren't 31 then I hope they were 32-35. Also hateful how my phone ate this tag.]
Fair enough. I just hope that gunk doesn't eat at steel or something. You never know with mystery goo.
[If the only casualty today is Mizu's sword we have to restart the game.
But ah. Grits teeth.]
To my credit, it's only ever worked like that about three times my whole life. Not Lucas specifically, but. Well. [It's as much a surprise to him as it was to her and Taair :')] I don't even do it on purpose, really? I wouldn't count on me.
[IMMEDIATELY. STOP... NOT HER SWORD... IT'S SUFFERED ENOUGH!!
grits teeth and wipes it down again, just to be thorough.]
Could be something about this realm. [thoughtfully. hmm.] Enhancing what is already there. Creating something out of nothing, too. You could try it again, to be sure.
[i guess... this can be at some unspecified time on friday...........
richie can find mizu in the mansion lobby, blearily drinking coffee and perhaps looking a little bit like she overslept. it's fine? she's scrolling through chipper, pausing only when she notices him — and then there's a quick flash of embarrassment before she immediately turns her attention back to her phone. so, anyway,]
It is an unspecified time on a friday sure. Richie is also nursing a to-go coffee, already having had breakfast and a first cup there. He catches Mizu's eye in the lobby and feels much the same. Flash of embarrassment, though underscored by a thin guilt. It smooths away soon enough, with her casual greeting.]
[guilt... well, she isn't touching the subject and she gets the sense that neither will he, so it's probably for the best to pretend like she didn't feel that either.]
Prepare ourselves for our judgement day, I suppose. [very casually.] Just because nothing went wrong today, doesn't mean there isn't enough time for more surprises. Too many loose ends.
[a whole ass missing angel, a pocket dimension and a sore loser who won't show their face...]
[wonderful! we ignore everything. It's loss week (real not clickbait)
Richie helps himself to a seat across from her, taking a sip and meeting her gaze with a raised brow.]
I suppose you're right. I'd have thought judgment would be god handing out test scores for us to bitch over, but I think it'll be a testier version of all the doors we had to close last week. The landscape here is more hostile, for one.
[The candyland zombies...goo monsters...what is happening here.]
I still suspect the entity might bust loose or has called in reinforcements of a fashion.
[she huffs out a laugh, completely humorless. though she also continues scrolling through her phone for a moment longer instead of meeting his gaze.]
It won't be as easy as silently accepting our judgement, no. The boy seemed to imply we'd at least have to talk about ourselves, at some point.
["the boy," like jonas isn't close in age to her. god really opened himself up to bullying by doing a face reveal this close to the end.]
... We have a number of loose ends. Ones that I get the feeling won't let us go so easily. [a sigh.] Ariel, Mary, the entity, and how the latter two caught wind of this project in the first place. From what I've been told, it wasn't announced to the public at all.
[she nods at him, hello. and then easily goes ahead and matches his pace, so they are now taking their walkies together.]
Hard to say which one of them is the biggest sap. Though if you ask me, I think it Grabriel's own sense of guilt that did it.
[mizu's vibes are decidedly less rancid now, at least. almost peaceful compared to the angry, betrayed mess she was feeling hours ago. but there's still something deeply bittersweet in the midst of it all. a sense of anticipated loss.]
Hmmm. I do think Charlie's the softer touch of the two. And young Gabe is probably fighting nine kinds of anxiety over their first ever pet project going straight to shit.
And via an old pal, no less.
[Though what the relationship there is, he can't say. And at the moment he can't be assed to care. It's fraught, but it fucked them over, and he's done his steaming over it for the night.
Now it's better to take comfort in the quiet. All these bitter finalities.]
Not just an old friend. A step-sister. [they have truly been stuck here witnessing the most slowburn, fucked up family reunion of all time.] However they decide to resolve their issues, I'll be glad to be far, far away from it.
[and it will hopefully stay that way, at least for another decade or four. though, now that the end is only a few hours away... she glances at him, frowning.]
... You were undecided the last time we breached the subject. What will you do tomorrow?
Step-sister. [He gives a low whistle, shaking his head.] Best of luck to the both of them, I don't fancy untangling that knot.
[They're both glad to be away from it. Even if what they're going back to is hell of a different kind. Richie sighs.]
I'm going to wind the clock back a few hours. There was a point where two of us got attacked. Blindsided by an old bully of ours — they pinned the killings on him back in the day, locked him up in an insane asylum, and I guess he really did go crazy. Enough that he would do what It told him, and It said, "Hey Henry, your old pals are back in town. Why don't you take this here knife and pay them a visit? One by one."
So. If I stick around in the right spot and make it a two against one, maybe we eliminate him and keep our numbers up to six instead of five. Maybe that'll keep the later casualties down. I can hope.
[There's a beat. He digs in his pocket suddenly.]
By the way — I've got no idea if they'll keep their juice once we go home, but considering our other conversation, I thought you could use an extra edge.
[And he'll pass her an eggplant keychain, which will make someone go blind for three hours, and a dried fish, which forces someone to answer one question truthfully.]
They'd be more effective on your "monster" than mine, I think.
[hmm. honestly, she is still so fucking worried about richie's whole situation and can't help but wonder if a few hours will be enough. but it's not as though she has any better suggestions. maybe keeping the group's numbers up is the key his survival...?
or maybe richie will get the honor of being the first person to cash in on god's promise to welcome them back to heaven. who knows.]
... Then I wish you and your group the best of luck. And that the additional time will be enough to turn the tides in your favor.
[but she is still going to be kind of stressed about it. absolutely hateful. also? handing me back my own cyoa item... i see... she'll take the fish easily enough, already thinking of one good use for it if it still works. but the keychain gives her a pause.]
Are you sure you won't need it? For your "old bully," perhaps...?
[she will take it if he really doesn't need it, but.]
[it was really unfortunate that i was gone for that last trial or i might have used it. Or even abused it to out a ship....tch.
But this is ICly what he would use it for, because my god Mizu your circumstances. They are so dire. Richie's brows pop high.]
On Henry? Please. Every time that man takes a piss he needs to look up instructions how to do it. If he's still got two working braincells to rub together I'll eat my shoe.
The man is violent, but he's no genius even in combat. All he had was the element of surprise and extra meat on his bones, and now he's down to just the meat. Besides which, tragic circumstances aside, I'm much better prepared to take out a fellow than I would have been two months prior.
Meanwhile, you blind a bigga-time general mid-seige? Or just before you get the drop on him? Sounds like a much more strategic manoeuvre to me. Keep it, I mean it. [He smiles.] It's the least I can do.
[HELP... it's okay. the ship was not outed ic but at least now we can perceive ooc...
still a little hesitant, but ultimately, she nods and accepts the keychain.]
If you're certain. [a small hint of a smile, bittersweet.] It's no worm, but it ought to save me some trouble. Thank you, Rich.
[but on that note? there's a pause, and then the smile fades from mizu's face. she turns to look at their surroundings, then glances up at the sky. very blatantly avoiding looking at him for what she has to say next.]
... I cannot afford any distractions until I have fulfilled my vow. So this will be goodbye until our next afterlife. [just so he's aware she will not be responding to any messages, if she even keeps her phone.] I truly do wish you the best, you know. You deserve a long, uneventful life.
[I hope there's a game where the kiss list gets posted icly and anonymously to sow chaos. Or a fake one to gaslight people.]
I am deadly certain. [He smiles himself, though it's not carrying his usual mischievous lilt.] I trust you'll use it wisely.
[Which she might not. For all that he's a hot head in the matters of the heart, she's a sucker for the heat of battle. She might make good enough use to wiggle herself out of the sticky situation she's made. Maybe stop the fire before it starts, maybe come out with less bandages and bruises. He hopes.
Because before she even says it, he knows that he'll never get an answer. His smile thins. Chagrined, sure, but knowing, matching the way he nods his head and turns his gaze downcast a moment.]
You mean you'll text as much as you usually do? No problem. I'll expect zero messages. [Or maybe a singular "k" for old time's sake. Though he doubts it.] What if you finish your vow and have extra spare time on your hands? You couldn't send us a victory pic, just for show?
[Still. It's stinging already. Richie puts a hand to her shoulder, looking into her eyes. Bright blue and shadowed. Surly, keen to cut. But soft, if you catch her in the right moment. It's rare. She makes sure of it.]
So do you. [He laughs a little, a soundless huff. Lets his thumb run over the fabric of her infinite layers.] In spite of everything.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week zero, saturday...1!
anyway, they're at (throws dart) at the train station. there's a big lack of train here. and also a big lack of recognition from mizu who is staring at the tracks, like. huh.]
What's all this for...?
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Richie taps out a cigarette from one of his brand new cartons, stashed in the pocket of his brand new jacket. He's casually dressed, if not expensively so. The sort of wealth you need to be in the know about to spot. Which Rashomon over here likely won't be.]
Locomotion. [He sparks his zippo, and takes a short drag. Taking a wild swing here, let's assume the guy's never looked a steam engine in the smoke stack before, much less a monorail.] Normally folks can pile into a big steel tube and get propelled down these here tracks at ungodly speed. Think forty or fifty horses put together.
[He's not an engineer or a physicist don't ask him for specifics.]
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looks at when trains were first invented. looks at the year mizu is from. yeah, he's right.]
A big steel tube? That sounds... [terrible? claustrophobic? making such a face. what the fuck. settles for:] ... Unpleasant. To what end?
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Fast travel? [He cants his head to him.] When you can get between the East Coast and the West Coast at about fifty times faster than on your own two feet, why bother walking at all?
You don't feel the speed, not really. It's a smooth ride.
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Hm. [still sounds awful, tbh.] And this is something that exists in the... future?
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Sure does. Some of them, anyway. [He raises his brows and sighs with a mighty chagrin.] So far as I can tell, my reality doesn't square up with more than two people, tops. If even that.
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Not many cat or fox people in your reality?
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Nothing fuzzy up your way either, I take it?
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[Casually points his way with the smoke.]
Whereabouts are you from, anyway? I never got your name either.
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[this would be the point where a nice and polite person would ask for his name in return!
however.]
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Oh, fuck. A place I've actually heard of, imagine that. I'm Rich. Rich Tozier.
I'm from America, but if I were a betting man, I'd say that might not yet exist in your day.
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Do you always talk like this?
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'Fraid so.
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[yapper.]
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Nothing wrong with a little loquacity.
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You must enjoy the sound of your own voice.
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What's not to love? It's made me a lot of money.
You let your sword do the talking instead, huh?
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Most men become a lot more agreeable when threatened with a sword.
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[What is that scoff...what is his damage]
Just what is it you need them to be agreeable to?
W0 MONDAY
Richie has yet to notice he's too busy with the SOUNDSTAGE. He's tipping out a mysterious round black disc from a carboard sleeve, which looks an awful lot like his halo? Weird. He's absolutely delighted with the find.]
Crazy! Absolutely batshit stuff, do you know what a mint you could make on a collection like this?
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i am sorry but mizu is just going to stare at him with this face to try and shame him into repeating that whole ass sentence in normal people words.]
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Do you like music, Mizu?
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squints at him.]
Yes.
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That's what these are. Records. As in, music put to permanent record, like how you'd write words on paper.
Takes a special machine to play them, is all.
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... There's nothing on it. [it's a flat chunk of future plastic???] How?
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Richie will wave him closer.]
Come see.
[He'll click on the turn table, carefully setting the disc down.]
See the grooves on it? They're a way to translate sound. This needle fits in them, and the way it rubs up against them replicates whatever was recorded.
[He sets the needle down, and an old tune starts up. A soft pitch for an ancient soul, though he suspects that anything from his time will sound like so much caterwauling to a guy centuries behind. Every generation hates the culture of the ones after it, tale as old as time.]
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anyway, he's right. anything more modern would have just sounded like absolute nonsense to mizu's ears. this is still kind of out there, but not as wild when you just got jettisoned from the 17th century straight into anime girl heaven. help.]
... Huh. [visibly surprised when the singing begins.] It records voices as well. Impressive.
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I hate to report that this makes him so very happy. He's outwardly cool though, because he's 37 and not 13.]
Glad it passes muster. [Even if it's outdated...tch.
He gets up, hopping down to wherever the actual storage is for all these lovely records.]
They do have stuff from all over the place. Japan included. Maybe there's something here closer to what you know.
W0 SECOND FRIDAY
For once, his only greeting is a two-fingered wave. The rest of his hand is on the neck of the bottle.]
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mizu walks up to him, staring at the waves for a moment and then looking down at him.]
Ill tidings, aren't they?
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[He purses his lips. Takes a breath, takes a swig.
Then holds the bottle up for him.]
Looks like I'll have to take your death threats for serious now. Little more mortal than we all thought we were, huh?
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[sir, your mouth was just around that bottle... shakes head. no, thank you.]
Did you happen to see her last night?
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actually valid tho as you were.
He retracts the bottle, but doesn't take a second gulp. Rather he caps it, and rests it at his side.]
...Yeah. We were holed up together. [His gaze remains distance, fixed on the horizon.] Us and about nine or ten other people with the same bright idea to get a shower in before bed. Then the door locked.
We tried to bust it down but if Marcoh couldn't do it, then it sure as shit wasn't happening. We all passed out later. And in the morning, she was just gone.
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Nine or ten? [HELLO???? baffled.
that is so funny. everyone really decided to go for the bit.]
It was the same here. At the beach. No doors, of course. But an invisible barrier kept us trapped like rats in a cage. [...] She traveled a long way to die.
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Plus the two of us. [Looking a little strained....he would have turned around and left if he'd been afforded the chance okay]
That she did. [He nods, softly. His jaw is clenching tight though, and he looks to her with something sharp behind broad glass lenses.]
If she tried to wake any of us, it didn't work. And whatever held us back all night didn't stop her. And communications were cut out. Maybe the angels were taken by surprise, finding one of their charges dead. Maybe they weren't.
It's just hard not to believe she wasn't led to her grave. It was a pretty slick set up if you ask me.
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[a scan across the beach, lips pursed. unhappy.]
All I see is a disturbing lack of anything.
week zero, sunday...2!
Funny. I think Saber's idea of just killing him would've been kinder to both of them.
[instead, the furries had to maim each other in front of god and everyone. wahoo.]
we made it....yay
[He shakes his head. Hindsight is 20/20, but his vision has always been fucking terrible.]
Never imagined they'd set up something so damn cruel.
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[laws... derogatory.]
We will need to be better prepared, should this happen again.
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I do think it's possible. Probable, even. The way it was set up was all too neat. The lockdown and the protocols. Explusion.
....I've been saying as much to a couple other people, but one thing we should look out for is if people start acting off. I won't pretend I knew Jing Yuan well, but Jiaoqiu's account of him and his actions don't line up one bit.
I've been wondering if it's not possible his soul got corrupted coming here. Something gone wrong on the trip, or souring after he got here.
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[looking more than just a bit troubled. brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line for a moment there.]
The man I spoke to yesterday and the man I spoke to earlier in the week seemed... different. I don't take Jiaoqiu for being a poor judge of character, either. Something has clearly gone wrong.
week one, thursday.
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Richie comes in more by accident than intention. He's trying very hard to cement the place in his mind, and does a delayed double-take at the familiar lump in the cushions.]
Barely feels like home, don't it?
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mizu glances at him with the one eye that survived chizu's breakup era.]
Home. Funny. [huffs, almost like a laugh.] Here? Or there?
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Both. Either. [A sigh.] God, I don't even know. I'm fading in and out of it hard.
[He smiles, even if it's a thin veneer over a grimace. Juts a chin to his eye.]
That must have been a bitch to disinfect.
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I understand. Some of it still lingers for me, too.
[post-cyoa effects are awful, actually. thanks.]
I had help. [a light touch over the bandages, frowning. and then a glance to him, specifically toward his missing arm.] I assume your arm wasn't easy to deal with, either.
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[He sighs at the gesture.]
No, it wasn't. [Excuse him but he really can't be on his feet much longer. He'll very gingerly take a seat adjacent, grab a cushion for himself as he tries to settle in a way that won't make his back scream bloody murder.] They're doing great for scavenged supplies and no hospital, but my god, it'll be a miracle if doesn't get infected.
...What exactly happened to you, after things split up? I saw some...flashes, I suppose. Not enough to make sense of things.
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[said like it hasn't been a terrible experience each time. it's fine.]
... I was taken hostage by the borisin. They let me go to have me scout the gates of a great ship, fully under the belief I would return to them. [still a bit pissed off by it.] ... And then I ran into Childe. He was alive, and mara-struck.
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You're putting an awful lot of faith in a soft child-of-the-future like me. Who knows! Maybe I'll die right next to you in this conversation. We're just not built for hardship anymore.
[But ah, we are getting serious. He quiets, head tilted as he takes it in. It lines up with a few of the wisps and flashes he saw while in his own personal hell. Still, it takes him by surprise.]
Childe? [Not like he was bosom-buddies with the man, but he knew he'd meant something to Mizu. And the illness itself was no joke. He blows out a breathe and shakes his head.]
Already in rage? Or still stable?
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[KIDS THESE DAYS... "richie is older" not chronologically it still works......]
Stable, but starting to go. [...] I hastened its progression.
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[omg mizu is a cradlerobber...it is best they were divorced]
Mm. [He purses his lips. Easy to read between the lines, there.] That's a real pity. I'm sorry.
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[not to mention ringo but mizu is still "........." about that.]
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[He mulls it over a moment. Then, hesitantly.]
Eddie was real. He was my friend from home. Used to be.
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[His eyes lock firmly on the floor, mouth a prim line.]
He passed about three to five minutes before I did. Both in reality and in...whatever the fuck that was.
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dead, but not here. and being sent back is unlikely to let him change anything about it, since it happened minutes before... for once, mizu's expression softens. just a bit.]
I see. My condolences, Rich.
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...Thank you. It's all right.
[He'd had a bit of an episode earlier. He's not keen to repeat it with anyone else. Just—]
You know what the real kicker is? [He points to his own shoulder with the one hand left to him.] In real life, he lost the other one.
If there is a god or a devil behind all of this, they've got a hell of a sense of humor. I'll tell you that.
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Perhaps there is some truth to that. [drums fingers against the cushion, thinking.] Perhaps there is a god or a devil who has decided we are escaping our punishment by being participating in this program, and they have decided to take matters into their own hands.
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Richie lets his head roll to better look him over. He's weary of course, but even then oddly reserved. Mulling over something with dire implications.]
Could be. [Seems to be. Even so, the idea doesn't sit right with him.] Have we all sinned so much we're deserving of this?
[This being their wounds. The salt poured into them, the lunacy and the weekend ballyhoo. A rug pull just when they though there was a helping hand to reach for, flicking the off switch on the guiding light.]
Maybe you or me. Sure. By some divine force's measure, maybe we need to get raked over the coals. I can't imagine someone like Koharu has earned that kind of judgment.
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Richie, on the other hand, is forever outclassed and outdone by his fellow souls. If you wanted to squint at the issue, you could call him a killer. You'd catch him more handily on vice, but since when did that warrant being literally eaten alive?]
...I suppose if making the cut is arbitrary, then maybe punishment is too.
[Not looking forward to that. Seeing kids pay for things grown folks would shudder to pony up for.]
Why did you? Kill, I mean? [He's feeling a little woozy from the day. It's a bad one, and he'll need to rest soon, as will Mizu no doubt, but he's got a mind to chase a few threads before he goes.] You're free to tell me to go fuck myself for asking, by the way. I'd get it.
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[sometimes... you even tell multiple people on the intro mingle and the npc intro post about it. acknowledging you're a murderer and feeling remorse are two very different things.]
I have killed many men. And I will kill many more if I am sent back. [very bluntly.] I made a vow. If god expects me to abandon it as part of my redemption, they will be sorely disappointed.
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He could ask what for. He can imagine things. Wrongs to be righted, slights, family members cut down, Shakespearian betrayals. It won't be pretty, and it might sour whatever small concession is being made to have this conversation. Either for Mizu's patience or his own morals.
If you told him you were a stone cold killer back in Los Angeles,
he'd be looking for an exit and calling the cops. Here?
Richie sighs and shakes his head.]
My goodness, Mizu. You really are straight out of the myths of old. Nobody commits to the bit so hard in my day — not with such a cool head, anyway. I can think of maybe two: the one is only after a single target, and the other is nuttier than a sack of peanuts. One-man-armies are hard to come by in peace times.
[He shrugs.]
Hell, maybe there is a legend about you somewhere. I'll check the library if I ever make it back.
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Hah. I doubt it. Even if we both came from the same worlds, centuries apart, there is no man out there who would record my deeds. A creature of shame would be considered better off forgotten by history.
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Oh, you'd be surprised. People love a bloody sensation.
[He tilts his head though, eyes closing a moment as a wave of dizziness pulses through him. He grimaces and puts his hand to his bandaged shoulder. Keeps a pressure there. Steels himself through the wave of pain.]
...I don't get what's so "shameful" about you, though. Or "creature"-like, for that matter.
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White men, such as yourself, are banned from entering my country. It has been the law for decades now.
[looks at him, holding his gaze for a moment like the problem here should be obvious. but, well, they've got so many people here with a variety of eye colors, regardless of their race. it's not as blatantly obvious here. not like mizu is used to.
sighs and settles a bit more into the cushions. richie should probably settle down, too, because he's about to get hit with so much internalized racism.]
... There were four white men in the country at the time I was born. Traders in opium, weapons and flesh. One of those men took my mother and impregnated her — with me. My very existence is considered monstrous in the eyes of men.
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Richie meets that gaze. And suddenly, it clicks. Oh sure, on meeting him he'd thought "Oh that's unusual", looking into glassy blue eyes, and then moved on without a second thought. But genetics played more footloose and fancy free than you'd expect. You had biracial babies sprouting ginger hair when red genes ought to concede to champion heavyweights like black or brown. Sometimes you got amber eyes, or albinism, or any number of things in between. Taair had the colouring of a Scandinavian but the features and name of a South Asian noble. Not to mention Elysia's hair was cotton candy pink. An unexpected blue was not thing too shocking at home, and certainly easy to overlook here.
Mizu, on the other hand, is of a very tempestuous time and place. Richie's gut sinks as the details come in like whacks from a hammer. Decisive, hard, and damning. He's quiet in their wake. Lord, what could he even say?]
...Yeah. That sounds about right. [He lets his burning shoulder go, tentative, to right his glasses on his face.] We have...a long and storied history of being the worst thing to ever happen to a place. Any place. There's still fallout happening centuries after the fact. Maybe a lot of us have wised up but it's not the sort of thing you can smooth over with a bouquet of roses and an apology card.
[Hoo boy, could they get into it. Mizu you have no idea what all you've missed.
Except that's only half the problem. He purses his lips, chancing meeting his eyes. Icy blue. Barely a chance to disguise it, huh?]
Maybe it's pointless to say, but people have eased up about it. Being mixed race. Or any race for that matter. Sure you still got your bigoted assholes — there was a real piece of work in my hometown — but they're fewer and further between. Anybody with a lick of sense and half a heart knows a body's just a body. No matter the shape, size, or colour.
...Still. I'm sorry. [He sighs heavy, and lets his focus flick back to his own knees.] I can't imagine what it might have been like.
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[quietly. obviously mulling over those words, and for more reasons that richie could possibly know or understand right now.]
Sounds like a pretty lie. Though... perhaps not an impossible one, I suppose. At home, everyone knows my shame as plain as my face. Yet none of you seem to care, or even notice. [hmm.] This is a strange place.
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Yes. And there were many people who didn't even find any of those things strange, either.
W1 SATURDAY
What a goddamned shitshow.
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I expected a greater mess than last week... That exceeded all of my expectations.
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I know, I know. Bad enough that it was a two-body deal, adding a case for self-defense on top of it was...Well. And then there's the romantic drama.
[Putting it lightly.]
...Did you believe her? Firefly?
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But...I do have worries about it. That kid was a trouble maker but not a murderous one. [He sighs.] Or at least not if he was still himself.
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If she wanted an apple, she should've just admitted to it. Though I guess she didn't want people to become hostile towards her.
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She could have done. Though it's easier to believe she was the victim, when she still seemed in her right mind. Having big ol' doe eyes doesn't hurt either. [He purses his lips, troubled.] I don't love having to think so low of the gal, but there'll be eyes on her now for sure. And if there really is a god keeping tally of who's naughty and who's nice, maybe we'll get the truth yet.
Worse, I believe we can expect to do it again come this weekend. Lockdown was the same time as the last. Like clockwork.
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[what the fuck happened to the people in the market, anyway... oh, well. sighs and shakes head.]
It will happen again. It was naive to believe it wouldn't in the first place. Next time will be worse, and so will the week after that.
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[Because yeah. Just pushing his glasses up and giving a bitter laugh.]
Fine way to test our character, isn't it? Unless the theory about outside interference is holding water. Playing off our sins and rigging the game so that nobody redeems themselves at all. Wiping people right off the map. It's enough to make me wish there were no gods at all. I would love a big black abyss of nothing right about now, seems a better deal than this horseshit.
...If you ever find someone's acting off, or you have other reasons to suspect them, you can always bounce the ideas off me. Or Claude or Taair, I expect. No sense in stewing in silence when there's lives on the line.
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[his midtrial was interrupted and for WHAT.]
... I'm more convinced of outside interference. For now. The inane complexity of putting us through this program despite having decided to get rid of us already is stupid. Just wipe us off the map, as you say, and be done with it if that's their intention.
[but, also? raises an eyebrow at him, with that last bit.]
The three of you, huh. Are we bonded for life now?
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[Since they all saw eight and nine this weekend.
Also meets his raised brow with an equally raised brow.]
How could we be? We're dead. [haha. But he shrugs.] Can't hurt to have a couple people in your corner, can it? Though I get it. You may have gotten cat ears back then, but we all know you're a lone wolf.
You just don't have to be. Not 100% of the time, at least, and not when the shit hits the fan. Offer's open.
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Hm. [we're back to one word answers...] Noted.
[mizu stop trying to tackle things solo challenge.]
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[But what did he expect? This one's a tough nut. And a bit of a delusional one too. He was lucid enough for three seconds on arrival, just enough to see him haul after Claude and Taair in their mara-struck forms while spewing blood like a lawn sprinkler.
Richie pulls a drag on the smoke and blows the grey wisps out in a thin stream, shrugging easy. It's no skin off his back, but still. In spite of it all he's got a spot of affection for the guy — a wary, distanced one, but an investment nonetheless. Same as the rest of the crew. If they aren't going into this at least somewhat together, what are the odds they're going to beat what's coming?]
If it please you, Mizu. Just think on it a while. Two heads are better than one.
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Fine. I'll think about it.
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Richie smiles, small and humble for once. Whether Mizu would actually follow through is one thing, but he'll have mercy tonight. He knows he wears on his patience, and they've had enough tribulation for one weekend.]
Fair enough. [he tips the cigarette in a casual, one-handed salute and makes to turn away.] Take it easy, Mizu. We're knee deep in it now, and who knows what's waiting for us around the bend?
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goodbye, richie. mizu doesn't say anything else, simply rolling that one surviving eye at his back. begone.]
W2 MONDAY
Richie is doing better than he was this weekend but still sore as shit. Obviously. He's moving better now though. Where might he find Mizu...and in what condition...]
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stops hobbling to frown at him.]
There's something I need to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?
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He looks to Mizu (and his many injuries), brows furrowing. You don't see this every day.]
Sure thing, what's going on?
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Your phone. Did anything... strange happen to it yesterday? Or even recently?
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...You wouldn't be talking about a receiving a little mystery message, would you?
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Yes. A voicemail. Gamaliel called it "morse code." [hmmm.] Should I take it you received one as well?
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[meanwhile i, kabby, fully lost sight of it once baby aus hit. Runs to go sleuthing on my break help]
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Did you already decipher it?
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It reads "Knock knock". Which is either a precursor to a children's joke, or a reference to a Guns n' Roses song — Knocking on Heaven's Door.
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[plays the voicemail for him, but we already ooc confirmed it is so this is just for ic confirmation.]
Gamaliel seemed disturbed when I shared it with her. Said it should have been impossible for someone outside of this zone to call us.
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He listens with a frown.]
It seems to be. Same word, twice in a row.
And no offense to Gamaliel but a voicemail from the great beyond is a little less surprising than a murderous quarantine enforced by invisible hands.
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[like a fucked up jenga of things that should not be happening.]
... Claude received one as well. I wonder if Taair did, too.
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Maybe our being plucked out from the masses put us in touch with something we wouldn't have otherwise been able to. We could check with Taair.
[Immediately gets babied after this for two days and then Taair public posts about it.]
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[The way Taair is younger than Mizu in his head. It's the disney princess energy.]
What do you make of Gamaliel, by the way? Now that we have a face to the names.
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They're young. All three of them are. Or they look the part, at least. I assume death makes age... trickier.
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That it does.
She told me she's about 35 but choosing to look like a teenager. Whatever that means. I'm not going to denigrate how they run things based on what they look like, but it does tamper a few expectations.
Though there's a lot kids can do that old shits like me can't. Especially ones from other times and places.
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[slowly, like. WHEW. that is a lot more than mizu expected, actually.]
Perhaps it has something to do with the age at which she died. But it's certainly a choice.
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Whether or not it's any of our business is another matter, but there you have it. Another age-defying anomaly in our midst.
[shakes in elysia being 50000]
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[why are some of you so old. what the fuck.]
W2 SUNDAY
Richie has arrived first. And, bewilderingly, ordered a rice wine for himself. His head turns when he hears the door open, but only offers Mizu half a smile and a nod, turning back to his drink in silence.]
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mizu looks at the drink first and at richie second, cocking an eyebrow at him. hm. a bit surprised by his choice in drink here.]
Drowning your sorrows?
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Yourself?
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I often found Su Waner here. After the uglier parts of our weekends. It's become a habit.
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We split a bottle of this once. [Gestures to the rice wine.] It's nice, but I don't know that I'll finish it myself, if you wanted a cup.
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A drink to lost acquaintances. I suppose the occasion calls for it.
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[He'll grab him a cup and pour one up. Hands it to him with a dim sort of grace, the smile half-hearted.]
I won't pretend I knew either girl especially well. But I liked them. They were both sharp. Kind too, when the time called for it.
[Thinking about the brutality of the case makes him doubt it some. Even with some kind of possession, it was an especially brutal one.]
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They were not unpleasant company. [never mind that one of them was mizu's roomie, but it's fine.] There are many who will miss them.
[neve girlbossed too close to the sun...]
week three, monday.
the only reason mizu hasn't shattered the fuck out of the mirrors or richie's collarbones is because his presence hasn't been noticed yet. mizu stands as still as a statue, a white knuckled grip around the hilt of that very same sword pictured in the memory, and eyes dark while watching the memory come to its inevitable conclusion.]
we hate mondays
Good thing for Richie's brittle bones that he hasn't been spotted yet. It's not like he's aiming to snoop. Even the first trip here put him off the place — it's like the cave, but worse. Much worse. When he's pitched into the maze by force and sees it's Mizu up head, when what he's watching slots into place, he goes so still he nearly stops breathing.
The figure, half bare beneath a blanket, should make sense to him, but doesn't. He registers a curve where there ought not to be. A quality to a voice so familiar it masked the obvious. The tender conversation sounds alien to him. Then, clothed and sexually dimorphic, it makes sense. Sharp, sudden, and obliterating. Just as the husband of the year comes to a callous shock a minute later, bested and then pinned beneath the woman he's promised himself to.
The woman, bandaged and loose-clothed, low voiced, only exposed when you exhume the tomb. There's been a case or nine or ten throughout history, hasn't there? Life was rough shit for women in most centuries, most countries, most anywhere. God forbid you were good at something a man was. God forbid you wanted anything more than homemaking, being paid for in dowries and traded like chattel. Worse when you were already marked as a bastard. You couldn't hide those blue eyes, but you could strap down your curves and carry yourself with a broad back, dress for the part and cut down whatever stood in your way.
Richie holds in the shadows. He doesn't dare come closer nor open his mouth. There couldn't be anything worse to walk in on, could there? Not for Mizu.
So, he does the sane thing. Touches a hand to the wall to guide himself, and slips out the opposite way.
From her vantage, there will be a shift in a reflected shadow on a mirror nearby. A blink and you'll miss it moment where his back is exposed, before he turns a corner and vanishes from all reflections.]
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unfortunately for richie, his presence is not so easily missed. the memory has burned itself into mizu's mind with such detail, that even the slightest deviation on what is currently being reflected in the mirror is enough to catch her attention. something out of place. the reflection of a shadow that does not belong here.
for just a fraction of a second, her blood runs cold and she finds herself frozen in place. then that millisecond passes, and she's sprinting down the fucking maze, chasing him down like a bat out of hell. richie's dex stat was not enough to help him avoid getting kissed by claude just earlier today.
it's probably not enough to save him from getting throttled by mizu, who is absolutely going to throw him to the ground and pin him there if she catches up with him. run, white boy. run.]
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No but he should have expected this. Really. There is no chance, no competition. The sudden clatter of feet sends his heart stuttering, and he has a half an inkling to run.
She's on him before his legs even kick in. Richie hits the ground with a sharp gasp (his glasses fling off and clack against a mirror) and hisses at the chokehold pin, body tense, arm jerked back to hit.
Then he blinks through the shock. Eyes on hers.
And simply puts his hand down to the side. He says nothing. Waiting.]
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or maybe not? unfortunately, richie's gonna survive this encounter. but it might look like a near thing for a moment.
at some point between chasing him down and throwing him to the ground, mizu has procured a kitchen knife out of seemingly nowhere. a knife that she now holds to his throat — not with enough force to actually cut him, but certainly enough to be a threat.
resting all of her weight down on him, legs to both side of his hips and the other hand pressing down on his shoulder, mizu glares down at him.]
If you tell a single soul about what you just saw, I will kill you. Do you understand?
[unlike all the other times she's threatened him, this one does not sound like a joke.]
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Let's not kid ourselves here, that knife threatens to cut through whatever line of thought he might be clinging to. Worse still are those eyes. He can take the irritation, the flare ups of her temper and her frustration.
This glare is sharper. This one's meant to spear him through his skull and into the floor. If looks could kill, baby this would be a nuclear bomb.
Richie barely breathes, but he scrapes enough air together for words. Low, straining under her weight and the murderous airs.]
...Why would I want to?
[That's not the problem here. It's his knowing at all. Mizu could care less about the logistics on his part.
His hand stays put on the ground, even if it flexes, redirecting the tension. He may wince under the scrape of the knife but he has to say his peace.]
You wouldn't want me to know. So I don't have to know. [He keeps his eyes steady on hers. Not fearful, but serious. Solemn as the grave.] It's none of my business, and I won't make it mine.
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the logistics truly do not matter here. only the fact that he knows. unfortunately, despite the fact that there are other girls here who obviously have been living their best lives, knowing that woman have rights in another world or in the distant future does not erase 20 whole ass years of being traumatized by the circumstances of your own fucking birth. being told that the bad men will get you was not a threat, but a promise.]
Do you swear it?
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Richie almost makes to nod. The kiss of the blade keeps him from committing though, so.]
I do.
[He could say more but he doesn't believe it'd work in his favour. So, for once, he shuts the fuck up.]
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then the moment passes and she lets out a sharp exhale. pulls back and tucks the knife away somewhere under her cloak, out of sight and far, far away from his throat.]
... Fine.
[she'll get off him now, rising to her feet and shooting a glance at where his glasses fell earlier. but she doesn't offer him a hand up, like an asshole.]
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Then she rolls off and nothing more comes of it.
Richie takes a moment on the ground. No hand up, fine, he wouldn't expect it on a good day. Much less what's competing to be the worst day of his life. He comes to his knees and looks around, spying his glasses round the way of Mizu's glance. He fishes them over and puts them on before rising in full, dusting off his slacks.
There's a pensive tension drawing his features lean as he looks at her. Several sentiments dance at the tip of his tongue. I understand. I'll never understand. You deserved better.
You're no monster.
It would paint an ugly swatch over whatever fragile peace they've brokered. He can't think of a single thing to say that would come off congenial. The mood is all gun powder and lit matches, there would be a blowout if he tried.
So, for the time being, Richie just nods. Curt, succinct, over and done with. He doesn't like leaving her like that, but he'll do it.
Except as he turns to go, the mirrors light up around them. Two young boys, laughing at their own jokes. Then one pulls out his father's pistol.
Richie freezes. Back to Mizu, head turned. Transfixed. Eyes wide and face paling.]
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wanting revenge for a lost loved one is something mizu understands. it's simple. completely normal. easy to wrap her mind around. considering she's been swinging a sword around since the age of 6, all in the name of her revenge, she totally gets why a little boy would want to put a few bullets in someone who killed his brother.
it's the everything else that she's having trouble understanding. she has absolutely zero frames of reference for werewolves or clowns. she doesn't even know what a bicycle is?? white people's boogiemen be wild, actually.
she glances at him then. still tense from the last five minutes and silent, but waiting to see if he's going to say anything or if he's going to simply try leave now — even though they're both lost in the maze.]
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It's for the best this isn't his first time seeing this one. It's his second peek at it today, and it was the first brush he'd had with these magic mirrors. He's doing better now.
That doesn't stop him rooting to the spot like he'd been pinned by arrows. That's after he withdraws from the visions on either side, dead center in the aisle as he watches with a shaking hand and a mouth clapped tight.
(will it stay in the glass this time? will it come out to play? will it push upon the surface and bulge it out, pawing to break free like all those years before)
When the bullets fire and the blows rain down on the boys he flinches, shutting his eyes and bowing his head. He can only cover one ear, half deaf to the screams and the growls. Worst is the crying. Watching these two idiot kids bawling in the street, clinging to each other for dear life, neither one with a clue about the hell that's coming. That's only the beginning boys. You think it's rough now?
When the scene cuts out Richie holds position a moment. Settling himself before letting his head raise some. He doesn't look back to Mizu, his back still staunchly towards her.]
...You know...for a "fun"-house, we're sure having a real shit time.
[Fuck this.
Richie tucks his hand in his pocket and makes to leave.]
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so she lets him leave, watching his retreating back. goodbye, not-so-mid white man.
they can probably talk about this later. maybe...? or maybe not.]
week three, friday.
it's probably a little later in the day by now, and they are... somewhere. probably the void. either way, despite their last 1-on-1 conversation, mizu apparently has no time to waste on awkwardness or anything of the like. she zeroes in on him as soon as she spots him.]
Your glasses. You used them.
[straight to the point? okay.
and i guess she's also looking him over to make sure he isn't mysteriously injured or anything like that.]
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[He doesn't look injured, though he is in long sleeves. But he looks worn, red around the eyes. He's sitting with a distinct slump in his shoulders and doesn't bother to rise.]
I did. [He concedes easily.] I'd hoped to see if I could catch Elysia having a conversation with her killer. And after setting that intention, I was made to understand it wouldn't hone in on someone who I couldn't identify in the first place.
So it gave me the next best thing. A conversation she had with both you and Akihiko, during the lock in.
[He huffs, teeth gritted in a bitter grin as he shakes his head.]
Fat fucking lot of good it did me.
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It would've been to convenient if it just told you who she was talking to after midnight. A shame.
[well, nobody can say richie didn't try.
there's a pause here, as if mizu is considering whether to say something or not — before she sighs. sharp and quick, like she's ripping off a bandaid.]
There's something else you should know. [though mizu is clearly unhappy about it.] Elysia, Akihiko and I spent the night in the fairgrounds. When I woke up, I found a bruise below my ribs.
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[This is such horseshit. He wipes his face with a sigh.
But also hm.]
...You don't say. [Cants his head. Then, having to use his teeth on the cuff, pulls back his sleeve to reveal a bruise on his forearm.] I was in the funhouse — not by choice — with Shadowheart, Anders, Wis'adel, Kaworu, and Ali. And I woke up with this.
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It might be both killers tried to cover some tracks. One has an arm bruise and the other has one in the gut.
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[which is actually making her sooooo mad like
WHY IS HER BRUISE SPECIAL. FUCK OFF.]
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In that case, maybe the arm one is a deliberate cover up, but yours was an accident? Someone tripping over you trying to make a getaway?
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Well, depending on what kind of shit show we stir up come the final hour, you may just get your wish.
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[just murders the spare killer. it's fine.]
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...Not that I'd be thrilled about any configuration. It's an ugly game no matter how you play it.
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I haven't spoken to the gal since. I don't...I can't stand by it. Not against a child.
[he doesn't give a shit about ghost clone bullshit dan was absolutely a baby]
...If we have some special goodies at trial, we might be able to suss out whether someone did go for an apple once we corner them. Maybe it would be a waste, or whoever was in charge of it might be morally opposed, but it's a thought.
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[Sighs. Then shrugs.]
Well Mizu, if it ever turns out I'm on the chopping block, I will absolutely give you the first swing. I'd rather the mercy of your blade than whatever the fuck would come for me at expulsion.
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Whether you wanted me to or not, I'd have your head for making me endure nine more hours of trial.
W3 SUNDAY
He's got the free ice pack in hand but he's only holding onto it, applying on and off at leisure. He nods to Mizu when their paths cross.]
One down, and one off Scot-free. Looking bad for our track record, isn't it?
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[looking him over, eye lingering on that bruise.]
Daigo supposedly did it for an apple. In all likelihood, there's someone among us who's still afflicted and they're only going to get worse with time.
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[You don't need emotionshare week to feel the bitterness radiating off this one. He'd liked Elysia. Quite a lot, to tell the truth. He'd be furious seeing her killed no matter what the cause.
This? This is insult on top of injury. Richie grits his teeth and shakes his head.]
Well, we've never had one fly free before. Maybe they'll start showing signs. Get a little more obvious with it, even before Thursday.
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[elychie real... i see...]
But he didn't, so now we have to rely on their mental state deteriorating enough to make the affliction obvious. [... a pause, and she frowns.] Putting them down without earning ourselves another trial will be an issue, however.
W4 MONDAY
For the record, Shadowheart says she would have loved to see you dice the worm into a hundred pieces. Maybe next time you two ought to pair up.
[Emotionshare is...actually lowkey depressed. He talks big and easy as usual, but considering the weekend we've had this may come as no surprise.
There's a blip of fondness in there, though.]
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no matter what mizu is feeling, there's always something a little off in the background of it all. tired and angry and muted. this is fine.]
Huh. [a blip of amusement. stabbing a metal worm might have been fun, actually.] Then perhaps I'll take Shadowheart along next time and you can deal with Anders.
W4 FRIDAY
Richie will be out at the soundstage again. Smoking, low morale. No booze this time though. There's a sense of loss coming through — may not have known the guys well, but loss is still a loss. Moreover, the bad vibes carry through from last night into today. Guilt and melancholy, queasy anxiety. Fear.
He's picking idly through the records. Bowie's The Man Who Sold the World is on rotation, and on reasonable volume. He's not looking for company, but he'll wave to Mizu when he sees her passing by.]
Think we'll catch our runaway killer?
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mizu's mood isn't as rancid as richie's, but it is still decidedly grim. a weary sort of anger over everything that's happened and everything that's yet to come.]
If they killed again, yes. Perhaps we'll catch them this time.
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[The music idles on behind their weekly conversation. They follow the same beats as all the last and Bowie underpins it with a hollow melancholy.
For years and years, I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare
At all the millions here
We must have died alone
A long, long time ago...
For once it brings him no peace. Richie grimaces and lifts the needle, regarding the spinning disc with an undefined frustration.]
...You ever realize how cheap the things that feed you are, midway through a bite?
[Sorry, Starman. This ain't the time or place it seems. He'll make it up to you someday.]
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[she glances at the sound equipment with the look of someone who absolutely does not get the appeal of david bowie. goodbye, sir. she will not be looking forward to hearing from you again.]
... Speak plainly. [bluntly, but not... trying to be an asshole here.] Something is bothering you. Even more than what's usual on a Friday. What is it?
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His lips thin though, at the callout. Carefully he pries the record off and tucks it back into its sleeve. Switches the damn thing off while he's at it.]
...Fidelio, Anders, and Shadowheart went to my hometown yesterday. For their little field trip.
They'd all seen...they got bits and pieces of the picture, last week. But I don't think I said enough. Not enough to help.
[Which might seem silly. They both know how immediate and consuming those trips can be. Might not have made a difference at all.
Doesn't make him feel less like a grade A turd.]
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[cocking an eyebrow at him, like. are you for real. absolute dumbass. this is not how it works and both of them know it.]
They were children when they came back to us. I doubt they remembered their own lives, much less their afterlives.
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I know, I fucking know. [A flare of frustration, mostly at himself. It's irrational, but it's tied to a guilt of a higher order.]
They weren't children the whole time, by the way. Just long enough to get eaten alive.
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[getting the synopsis for it was not going to save their asses, either way. she sighs, frowning at him.]
But you're welcome to keep flagellating yourself. Would you have Jiaoqiu do the same?
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No. [Mizu's right. Richie knows she is, and so was he when he talked to other people and shook them up over their own misplaced guilt.
It just won't stop sticking, though. He scrubs a hand over his face.]
I just...fucking hate this place. How it swizzles a spoon around your brain and scoops up the worst shit in there just to fling at you. At other people — I could manage if it was just me. I can't stand that It hurt them, too.
Bad enough that we didn't finish the job back in the day. That more kids...that much is our fault. We thought we followed through, and we didn't. Now we get to pay for it in life and death alike. Fucking incredible.
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[not necessarily trying to be mean about his guilt, but she is blunt about it. del, anders and shadowheart don't seem like the type who would want him to feel bad over it, anyway. that said... hm. raising an eyebrow at him.]
Back in the day. You mean when you were a child?
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[A layer strips off the swirl of negativity. For now at least. Moods come and go, and they're not moving onto bigger and brighter things tomorrow.
Meanwhile he frowns. Gives a tight nod.]
...Yeah-huh. Eleven.
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[richie does not need emotion share to know just how ridiculous mizu thinks he's being. not with the flat stare she levels him.]
At 11-years-old, I could have killed the men I am sworn to kill no more than you could have killed that creature. And they are only human.
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On any other occasion, I'd whole-heartedly agree — except it's not something you fight with force. It's more about pliability of the mind. Easier to confront the unbelievable when you're young and willing to believe. As grown men and women...
[He trails off. Looks to the side with a sigh.]
As kids, we came down to square off against it and all seven of us walked out of there with our skins in tact. Scared to death, but alive.
This time? There's about three left. Four, if we're lucky and Mike pulls through. I don't know. Maybe it picked the rest of them off after taking care of me.
...Guess I'll have to find out at the end of our funny little program.
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the way she immediately thinks about the stupid apples, but that's not something she should suggest and not something that should be an option at all. shouldn't even be on the map.
there's a twinge of something awful when he describes the situation before he died. concerned and almost scared for him. but he won't see any of it on her face.]
... I don't understand. [the fact that children would have an easier time squaring off against it, as opposed to grown ass adults. it's boggling.] What is it about your enemy that makes it much more dangerous to you now? What do you need to believe in?
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Her response triggers something apologetic in him. Not hidden as expertly as anything she feels, there's a twinge at the corner of his mouth that gives him away. But he doesn't speak on it. Best to pretend like they aren't communicating on two layers at once, he finds. Most everyone prefers it that way.]
Honestly, I barely understand myself. It sounds so fucking stupid to speak on it. I wasn't pulling your leg when I said my world was regular — probably a billion to one odds on seeing something truly out of the ordinary. Almost nobody knows.
[Which is the other punch in the dick. No knowledge, no precedence, no help.]
It's sort of...it works with your imagination. Pulls shapes out of your own head — whatever scares you, what's been grating on your mind, that's what it'll be, and that's what will come to kill you. And it's not affected by the world as we know it. It can't be seen unless it lets you see it, and fighting back with brute force doesn't cut it.
You saw a bit yourself. My buddy Bill shot it with the gun and it barely slowed It down, even if he blew a chunk of its skull out. Or what looked like a chunk. Wearing the wound like it was part of the illusion.
But if you fight fire with fire — use your own imagination, play pretend? For some goddamn reason that lays into it better than any knife or bullet can. [There's an unusual brand of embarrassment tied in here, because he knows how utterly cracked he sounds. She'd be in the right to blow him off, if she hadn't watched the same memory he had.
The bullet? Might as well have shot off a rubber band. Richie doing a cockamamie voice out of the blue? Throwing a dumbshit prank powder at it? Well golly, that sure stuck it to him! Richie grimaces and wipes at his face. He'd rather crawl into a dank hole than elaborate, but here we are.]
Kids can do that. Kids can buy into all kinds of shit if you don't knock the wind out of their sails too quick. Grown ups? [He squints, waggles his hand.] Hard to believe in anything you can't touch, buy, or sell.
Which is too bad. It doesn't need you to believe in jack shit to pull your head off your shoulders. It just prefers them young.
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... So because you've grown and no longer have a child's imagination, it's harder for you to just believe you have the means to kill it. Even though you know that's what you need to do to fight back against it.
[too bad they can't bring the baby curse back with them.]
Why is it so fixated on your group?
[is it out for revenge...]
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[There is just so little explanation for anything. He suspects he'll never find out, either. There's cosmic forces at play all right, but not ones that care to make an introduction. He could envy Shadowheart and Anders that.]
Because we hurt it, and we gave it the slip. I don't think It ever knew what it was like for the food to bite back. It didn't much like it.
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[absolutely hateful. but, since this is before yves shared the alternate timeline info:]
What do you intend to do?
[because it sounds like he'll just die immediately if he goes home.]
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[He shrugs.]
If I get to go back and pick up where I left off, just try try again. We did have it on its last legs, I think. Maybe Bill and I can make the last blows stick.
If I die again, then...pfft. Fuck it. Better to go out giving it my all rather than live with my tail between my legs.
[And now that he knows some form of afterlife awaits them, maybe death is a touch more palatable.]
week four, sunday.
she's gonna check in on him after the impromptu roommate murder. where is he???]
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Sitting there with this thing barely drunk and cooling off as he sits with his hand over his mouth, eyes closed.]
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just. quietly sits down next to him.]
... I'm sorry, Rich.
[the vibes are deeply apologetic, concerned, but there is also a touch of regret mixed in.]
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...Thanks. [The vibes are pretty much what you'd expect, albeit numbed. He was already feeling dismal after the weekend, the teenage brawl today. This made him hit a chilly plateau.] I'm sorry, too.
[For what it's worth. Whether he and Mizu had been close after leaving that false life, he can't say. But loss is a loss.]
Did you know?
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[but instead he had to watch claude die in front of god and everyone, without any sort of warning. and that she regrets.]
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[There's a flicker of anger. Quickly smothered, loathing turning inward, swallowed up numb again. It makes sense, doesn't it?]
Unless I was supposed to decipher a third rate alphabet code, I don't believe anyone saw fit to warn me. Can't say I blame them — it is a bad week to have a hot-head in the loop.
[It was the right thing to do. He's not equipped to handle the truth. Not to deal with it, in the way it needs to be dealt with, and certainly not to smooth out his mind and quell suspicion.
Still. It grates on him, sharply.]
Did you know about what Uruha and Saber were planning?
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Rich... [god. she lets out a sharp exhale, shaking her head.] That I didn't know about. It sounds like they made a move as soon as they narrowed it down to him.
[which she's gotta respect, honestly. you do not hesitate with this shit. though she now regrets not giving him a heads up, or even poor koharu.]
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Fair. Especially since they came at him with the whistle. No hiding after that, is there?
[There's a drop. Anger is still there, but it's wrangled at the neck by a plummeting resignation.]
...I know it was better to...take care of it. Before it got worse. [He almost says more. You know that Claude hid his infection on our own trip, right? Bites it back. The kid had trouble trusting enough already, there's no point spilling old secrets now. Even if they're playing parallel to the thing that got him axed.] Just was a shock is all.
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[too bad for him that the dead came after his ass.
watching your roommate get stabbed as the final touch on an already terrible weekend cannot be good, though. especially as someone who comes from a relatively normal life, murder clowns aside. man. the regret is here to stay.]
If it brings you any comfort, he was already dead to begin with. Now he's with the rest of our lost souls... Who are not so lost anymore, as of last week.
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Oh, I know. It's a shame that it still looks like a final blow. And feels like one.
[He looks to her, mouth twisted to one side. Maybe he feels like he lost three rounds with a Jeep Cherokee, but the blunt words do help. Small things.]
...Thank you, though, Mizu. I'll be all right.
[Will you?]
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at least she knew claude was a dead man before uruha and saber killed him right in front of their doorstep, so it's fine. anticipated loss and all that.]
You'll see him again. [said like it's a guaranteed.] ... But first, we have three more weeks of this program to get through. Do try to stay all right until then.
[or else. she will fucking throttle him if he dies, thank you.]
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[And he means it. Strange how this surly one-eyed samurai with a validated distaste for white men has wedged her way into his heart. But she has.
And he'd be just as furious to find her corpse on their doorstep as he had Claude's. Maybe even moreso, if he were honest.
Richie claps her on the shoulder lightly and gives a grim smile.]
I'm gonna see about an invitation to sleep elsewhere tonight. If you want my cold tea you're welcome to it.
[He's not much in the mood to finish it. Richie rises with a sigh, a wipe of his eyes.]
See you tomorrow, hotshot.
week five, wednesday.
... Somehow, after everything, the idea of just messaging god still feels the most absurd.
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Have you tried? Messaging him. It.
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[still feels real hecking weird to just slide into god's dms, though.
but also:]
... By the way, about what Yves said. What do you think?
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[omnipotent his ass.
But ah.]
...It's a consideration, of course. Opens up a good deal of possibilities. Might change a fair few minds. [Seems a touch too good to be true if he's being honest.] You giving it a think, Mizu?
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[axolotl, wake up. you fucked up big time!
shaking her head in response to his question, though.]
I have no interest in changing my past, or abandoning my vow. [hope all the alternate timeline mizus are having a better one, though. even if it's extremely weird to even consider.] ... But I was wondering what you thought about it. For yourself.
[he is still very much stuck with a murderous clown situation?]
CW: suicide mention
See, that's what I like about you, Mizu. Never a word minced.
[Whereas he can't stop expanding on the thought. To each their own.
His mouth thins though. It's a touchy train of thought. He hasn't finished riding it yet, the routes still percolating.]
Oh, I'm thinking all right. I'd need some idea of the parameters. What is or isn't possible and how it gets done. [He looks down. Away, gaze distant.] ...Depends how far back I'd have to rewind the clock to change things. Just that last night? A couple days before? Turn up on an old friend's doorstep before he takes a razor to his wrists, stop him from skipping the trip?
Or hell, take it back to when we were kids? [He bites the inside of his lip. Chuckling again, though mirthlessly now.] Before the first batch even bit it?
It's hard not to feel like you're cheating someone, if you're not trying to save everyone. It's also a good way to drive yourself bugshit.
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Can you imagine it? You, as you are now, but in the body of a child.
[it would be funny in a very terrible way, if the rest of it wasn't so... bleak...]
Personally, I'd start by prioritizing your own life. There's no shame in that. [you can't help anyone if you don't save yourself, anyway??? be selfish.] But you have two more weeks to think about it. It's only one more option to consider.
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Big shit in a little body. Watch out, world.
[That would be a hell of a time if it weren't a wretched last resort.]
You're right, of course. Maybe keeping it simple is the best way to go about it. I'll write our dear Lord about it, see if I can't get a little godly input.
[But also, he's a little tired of spinning the matter around his mind. It hasn't led to anything productive, and he's tired of putting the spotlight all on him.]
...Mizu, I never asked what happened to you, did I? [He looks to her, the question digging a line between his brows.] I mean, I can guess, but I never got the full picture.
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No. Though I don't make a secret of it.
[mizu may be secretive about a lot of things, but this is not one of them, at least. though the way she just says it is probably a bit too casual, considering...]
There was a fire. One that burned hot enough to consume an entire castle. [and it was kind of her own fault, but she refrains from saying this.] The building collapsed under its own weight while I was still inside.
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[Mizu.....]
I'm sorry. Christ almighty, that's a hellish way to go. How did that happen? You think you can hightail it out of there before the blaze kicks up?
[Unless she was a literal prisoner in there. Knowing her that's extremely likely, sorry to say.]
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[and it should be an easy choice. it really should! but mizu looks down at her hand, slowly clenching it into a fist and then relaxing it like she's recalling her grip around something in particular.]
But I had one of the men I am sworn to kill right where I wanted him. He was at my complete mercy. Regardless of what I do to save my life, I must not let him escape with his.
[there's a reason why mizu was less "oh no i'm dead" and more "is that fucker also dead" right on w0. this fucking dumbass.]
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[Fuck. It's not like he can convince her to just let this one go, huh?]
Do you have any idea of where he might have been before he got to where you had him? Maybe you can rewind things enough to corner him in a less flammable locale.
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On his way to storm a castle with an army of men armed with guns. [very dryly, like. the window of opportunity is just Bad.] And before that, I was... indisposed. For some months.
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Or the one that turns you into a worm. I would have no complaints if he met his end under the heel of someone's boots.
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See? Problem solved! Good thinking, Mizu!
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W5 FRIDAY
Very glad it's not emotionshare week rn. He'd have blasted out some truly wretched vibes. By late afternoon all he's got left are his smokes, the salt and surf of the beach, and the impending company padding over the sand.]
Three. Fuck me, what the hell are we supposed to do with that many?
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it's pretty telling that mizu is holding onto her phone in a death grip, sometimes glancing at the last texts from ramiel like there's further information to be gleamed from them... but, obviously, there ain't shit to be found there besides a short list of where they all died.]
The same thing we always do. We focus, and we figure things out.
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[Though whether Claude needed it was another matter.]
...I said to him not to spread it around too much. That kind of thing can put a target on your back. I hope to god I wasn't right.
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Of course he did. He was too kind for his own good.
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Much too kind. [A beat.] Granted, he'd already spilled to a fair few folks. Off the top of my head: Uruha and Saber, Lucas, Anders and Shadowheart. And I believe JQ and Bas know now, but I don't know if they were aware before today.
Something to keep in mind. Not that it's a definitive motive. Especially since motive barely seems to matter most of the time.
[And it's not a list he likes. That's the other thing about dwindling numbers. Your suspects become as dear as your victims, and pointing fingers gets harder and harder to do.]
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W6 MONDAY
Wonderful! Just lovely. I was thinking what this place needed was a void. Think any of these cubes pick up a direct line to God?
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she huffs, dragging a hand down her face.]
Not from down here, no.
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[Did she say that out loud?]
Then I'm sorry to take you on a repeat tour. Remember the way out?
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There wasn't a way out, so much as we got thrown out.
week six, thursday.
anyway, we're at the hospital now.]
... What the hell happened to you?
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Richie's face is presumably bandaged, glasses returned to him. His foot must also be in a cast and we assume his ass is bandaged, hope del and maomao had fun with that one.
There's a distinct reluctance to look Mizu in the eyes at the moment. And for a moment the dreamscape bleeds through — smoke on the air. Fire flickers somewhere out of sight, the sound prickling at their ears.
Richie flinches and shakes his head.]
It wasn't too different from last time. New life, new me. All of a night, though, no centuries beyond our years.
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mizu startles a little when the smoke starts rolling in, though it doesn't last long enough for her to actually do anything about it. dreamscape jumpscares are her new enemy, after this week.]
... I see. It must have been one hell of a night. [slowly. and then, wondering how to breach the topic.] Was that all? You and Taair both kept — apologizing.
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...Well. We weren't put there to party, I'll tell you that much. [He swallows thickly. Partly to steel himself but also to soothe his raw throat. The seawater was unkind to him.] We were...paid to slay a demon.
[Money. All for money, no questions asked. It makes his belly roll like the barrel of a laundry machine, a constant and queasy tumble.]
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You were sellswords, then. [they really grabbed the people who don't know how to fight for this, huh.] ... What matter of demon were you asked to kill?
[she has a suspicion after that return thread, but.]
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[Hilarious casting all around. I feel like we should have been rolling with disadvantage the whole time honestly.
He holds even with her, miraculously. Doesn't flinch away yet, slowly shakes his head.]
We didn't get details off the top. Just that it was on the sixth floor of a castle. Had to go through hell first to find out.
[There's another flash of dreamscape. A tunnel with skeletons, big and small. Swept up in water. Slaying a guard, the Indiana Jones run in a trap-laden hall, the kitchens with old faces, the grenade. Richie flinches as the visions go haywire as their minds do. Psychoactive drugs taking them on a gorey ride, watching Claude die a second time in a surreal, bloody haze.
A woman rushing the door, Richie striking out on instinct. Her deadly tumble down the stairs.
It's that part that gets his head bowing. Shame pushes him down and out from whatever seat of dignity he could claim.]
...It was you. As a baby.
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and then there's that woman, and mizu freezes.]
What? [Why would I be—? baffled.] I recognize that castle. But it's one I fought my way through as I am now.
[as an adult. frowns, thinking...]
... I suppose the specifics don't matter. In the end, they took my experiences and used them to hurt you. And for that I am sorry, Rich.
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...Is that where you passed away?
[They very much did set it on fire. And Mizu may have been fighting through it to find a different demon altogether. Could have swam through the tunnel with the tiny bones (brothers and sisters?), dodged the pitfalls and took poisoned soup in a silent kitchen. Whether she had as hard a hallucination as they did, he can't say. These trips tend to drip nightmares into a grounded, if false, reality. It happened last time. It happened this time. A Clown, a Spider. Eddie, twice.
Doesn't change that she was still treated like a goddamn pariah. Maybe there was a price on her head.]
Don't be. [Raspy, earnest. Ashamed.] I'm sorry. Those are...it's the kind of thing I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. To put a cliche to it.
But I mean it. They way they... [That maid. Callous as a crooked rock, didn't care what happened to the kid. That "thing." He didn't let Adolphe kill her, but he can't say he feels too sorry for leaving behind. He sighs, ragged.]
It's one thing to know, another thing to see. You deserved better.
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[there's a little flicker of a thought, though. an image of a white man pinned down with a dagger at his throat, trying to convince her that he could still be useful with his slimy words. trying to tempt her with questions and no answers— don't you want to know which one tried to burn you alive as a baby? which one killed your mother?
and then it's gone.]
Don't be sorry, Rich. [she shakes her head, sighing. saying she's used to it probably doesn't help, but... she is used to it. it's just how it is. people don't always get what they deserve.] ... It was a long time ago. Before I was even old enough to remember it. Now if someone tries to kill me, I simply kill them first.
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Burn her alive as a baby. Murder her mother in truth.
The man vanishes. He stares at the spot where he manifested, jaw locked tight and breathing with slow intent. There's a slimy son of a bitch if he ever saw one. Shit, he'd want to kill him too. Half does now, if he weren't laid up so low and lightyears away.]
...Handy thing that you're good at it. [Which should be a compliment, even if it feels backhanded the second after it leaves his mouth. He winces, shakes his head slow. And reaches for her hand, taking it in his own.] I just wish you never had to.
[The way her own husband looked at her in horror. The skeletons in the tunnel. The way the maid spoke about her, how the sneering bear of a man cooed out recollections of the violence done to her. Nothing but hell and scorn, her whole life.
There's a better world for you and it kills me you'll never get to see it.]
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There aren't any good options available to women in my world. [he knows what she is, so she's just gonna outright call herself a woman here. it is still very much the 17th century, unfortunately.] Who would I be, if I never had the need to pick up a sword? Another man's wife? A tolerable one at best, if I'm lucky.
[and the thought of it is... bad. she wasn't so keen on the idea of getting married off years ago. even less so now.]
I've accepted my lot in life. There's no need to feel sorry for me.
week six, saturday.
mizu is so fucking tired, squinting and pinching the bridge of her nose to relieve a headache. but she looks up when they happen to cross paths. hello.
sighs.]
One last execution if all goes well. And then we're done.
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[HE HELPED SO MUCH. YES.]
I don't care to think about what state Marcoh will be in tomorrow. I can't imagine it would be anyone else in the ring.
[Imagine it's Koharu for real this time.]
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Most likely, yes. I'll be surprised if it isn't him after everything.
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The thought is such an ugly one. Especially considering how low the man had already been brought. And with Siffrin as the culprit...well. Richie shakes his head.]
You'd think, if the Entity was under wraps, we might not have to deal with a coliseum brawl. Wasn't the original plan for explusion something a titch more peaceable?
[WHO CAN SAY]
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[they will still need to shed blood, either way.]
W7 MONDAY
They can be coming back from their slime adventure. Taair is off being tended to by sweet Del. If I say it here it has to be canon.]
Nothing but the academy was in great shape. And still we got slimed up. Didn't realize you could just stab a blob and it would back off.
[much less...well anyway. Faint hint of embarrassment.]
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You'll find that you can stab many things to great effect.
[though... the goop is so gross. she's taking care to wipe down her katana in case any of that shit damages the metal. ugh. still, she pauses in the middle of this to glance at him.]
Despite having heard it before, your Lucas impression is... eerily spot on. And effective. Unexpectedly so.
[wdym the power of ~*~imagination~*~ works on more than just clowns. damn.]
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Fair enough. I just hope that gunk doesn't eat at steel or something. You never know with mystery goo.
[If the only casualty today is Mizu's sword we have to restart the game.
But ah. Grits teeth.]
To my credit, it's only ever worked like that about three times my whole life. Not Lucas specifically, but. Well. [It's as much a surprise to him as it was to her and Taair :')] I don't even do it on purpose, really? I wouldn't count on me.
But luckily, neither of you have to, clearly.
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[IMMEDIATELY. STOP... NOT HER SWORD... IT'S SUFFERED ENOUGH!!
grits teeth and wipes it down again, just to be thorough.]
Could be something about this realm. [thoughtfully. hmm.] Enhancing what is already there. Creating something out of nothing, too. You could try it again, to be sure.
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I could. It seems to happen when something is coming at me though, I don't want to push my luck without a real target.
[Imagine he tries it right now and it just force redirects at Mizu.]
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[just explode mizu with your mind. it's fine.]
week seven, friday.
richie can find mizu in the mansion lobby, blearily drinking coffee and perhaps looking a little bit like she overslept. it's fine? she's scrolling through chipper, pausing only when she notices him — and then there's a quick flash of embarrassment before she immediately turns her attention back to her phone. so, anyway,]
No announcements today.
[no die day! wahoo.]
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It is an unspecified time on a friday sure. Richie is also nursing a to-go coffee, already having had breakfast and a first cup there. He catches Mizu's eye in the lobby and feels much the same. Flash of embarrassment, though underscored by a thin guilt. It smooths away soon enough, with her casual greeting.]
Puh-raise the lord! Miracles do happen.
Now what do we do with ourselves?
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Prepare ourselves for our judgement day, I suppose. [very casually.] Just because nothing went wrong today, doesn't mean there isn't enough time for more surprises. Too many loose ends.
[a whole ass missing angel, a pocket dimension and a sore loser who won't show their face...]
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Richie helps himself to a seat across from her, taking a sip and meeting her gaze with a raised brow.]
I suppose you're right. I'd have thought judgment would be god handing out test scores for us to bitch over, but I think it'll be a testier version of all the doors we had to close last week. The landscape here is more hostile, for one.
[The candyland zombies...goo monsters...what is happening here.]
I still suspect the entity might bust loose or has called in reinforcements of a fashion.
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It won't be as easy as silently accepting our judgement, no. The boy seemed to imply we'd at least have to talk about ourselves, at some point.
["the boy," like jonas isn't close in age to her. god really opened himself up to bullying by doing a face reveal this close to the end.]
... We have a number of loose ends. Ones that I get the feeling won't let us go so easily. [a sigh.] Ariel, Mary, the entity, and how the latter two caught wind of this project in the first place. From what I've been told, it wasn't announced to the public at all.
W7 SATURDAY
Richie's out for a midnight walk. Unsurprised to find Mizu out here too, taking refuge in the darkness. He gives a wave.]
Well. Blanket redemption for one and all. Do you think it was Charlie's or Yves' impassioned speech that spared us all.
[he was not close enough to Till to catch thoughtshare maybe.]
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Hard to say which one of them is the biggest sap. Though if you ask me, I think it Grabriel's own sense of guilt that did it.
[mizu's vibes are decidedly less rancid now, at least. almost peaceful compared to the angry, betrayed mess she was feeling hours ago. but there's still something deeply bittersweet in the midst of it all. a sense of anticipated loss.]
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And via an old pal, no less.
[Though what the relationship there is, he can't say. And at the moment he can't be assed to care. It's fraught, but it fucked them over, and he's done his steaming over it for the night.
Now it's better to take comfort in the quiet. All these bitter finalities.]
Come tomorrow, it won't be our problem anymore.
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[and it will hopefully stay that way, at least for another decade or four. though, now that the end is only a few hours away... she glances at him, frowning.]
... You were undecided the last time we breached the subject. What will you do tomorrow?
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Step-sister. [He gives a low whistle, shaking his head.] Best of luck to the both of them, I don't fancy untangling that knot.
[They're both glad to be away from it. Even if what they're going back to is hell of a different kind. Richie sighs.]
I'm going to wind the clock back a few hours. There was a point where two of us got attacked. Blindsided by an old bully of ours — they pinned the killings on him back in the day, locked him up in an insane asylum, and I guess he really did go crazy. Enough that he would do what It told him, and It said, "Hey Henry, your old pals are back in town. Why don't you take this here knife and pay them a visit? One by one."
So. If I stick around in the right spot and make it a two against one, maybe we eliminate him and keep our numbers up to six instead of five. Maybe that'll keep the later casualties down. I can hope.
[There's a beat. He digs in his pocket suddenly.]
By the way — I've got no idea if they'll keep their juice once we go home, but considering our other conversation, I thought you could use an extra edge.
[And he'll pass her an eggplant keychain, which will make someone go blind for three hours, and a dried fish, which forces someone to answer one question truthfully.]
They'd be more effective on your "monster" than mine, I think.
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or maybe richie will get the honor of being the first person to cash in on god's promise to welcome them back to heaven. who knows.]
... Then I wish you and your group the best of luck. And that the additional time will be enough to turn the tides in your favor.
[but she is still going to be kind of stressed about it. absolutely hateful. also? handing me back my own cyoa item... i see... she'll take the fish easily enough, already thinking of one good use for it if it still works. but the keychain gives her a pause.]
Are you sure you won't need it? For your "old bully," perhaps...?
[she will take it if he really doesn't need it, but.]
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But this is ICly what he would use it for, because my god Mizu your circumstances. They are so dire. Richie's brows pop high.]
On Henry? Please. Every time that man takes a piss he needs to look up instructions how to do it. If he's still got two working braincells to rub together I'll eat my shoe.
The man is violent, but he's no genius even in combat. All he had was the element of surprise and extra meat on his bones, and now he's down to just the meat. Besides which, tragic circumstances aside, I'm much better prepared to take out a fellow than I would have been two months prior.
Meanwhile, you blind a bigga-time general mid-seige? Or just before you get the drop on him? Sounds like a much more strategic manoeuvre to me. Keep it, I mean it. [He smiles.] It's the least I can do.
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still a little hesitant, but ultimately, she nods and accepts the keychain.]
If you're certain. [a small hint of a smile, bittersweet.] It's no worm, but it ought to save me some trouble. Thank you, Rich.
[but on that note? there's a pause, and then the smile fades from mizu's face. she turns to look at their surroundings, then glances up at the sky. very blatantly avoiding looking at him for what she has to say next.]
... I cannot afford any distractions until I have fulfilled my vow. So this will be goodbye until our next afterlife. [just so he's aware she will not be responding to any messages, if she even keeps her phone.] I truly do wish you the best, you know. You deserve a long, uneventful life.
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I am deadly certain. [He smiles himself, though it's not carrying his usual mischievous lilt.] I trust you'll use it wisely.
[Which she might not. For all that he's a hot head in the matters of the heart, she's a sucker for the heat of battle. She might make good enough use to wiggle herself out of the sticky situation she's made. Maybe stop the fire before it starts, maybe come out with less bandages and bruises. He hopes.
Because before she even says it, he knows that he'll never get an answer. His smile thins. Chagrined, sure, but knowing, matching the way he nods his head and turns his gaze downcast a moment.]
You mean you'll text as much as you usually do? No problem. I'll expect zero messages. [Or maybe a singular "k" for old time's sake. Though he doubts it.] What if you finish your vow and have extra spare time on your hands? You couldn't send us a victory pic, just for show?
[Still. It's stinging already. Richie puts a hand to her shoulder, looking into her eyes. Bright blue and shadowed. Surly, keen to cut. But soft, if you catch her in the right moment. It's rare. She makes sure of it.]
So do you. [He laughs a little, a soundless huff. Lets his thumb run over the fabric of her infinite layers.] In spite of everything.
I wish you the best, too, Mizu.