well let me tell you a thing that you're going to very quickly learn on this cyoa - throné is not a fan of blood! she does not like it! so when ichiban's horrible meat remains splash her face and her white clothes, she kind of bluescreens. it's a loading screen up in there as she goes through all five stages of grief very quickly.
she is a little shellshocked? like. w - what do you even do with that? a man just died in front of her that she considered a friend and she doesn't know she's on cyoa so she just. thinks he's dead. like, for real, forever. maybe he is!
she feels the warmth of the pocketwatch where she has stashed it, unfortunately, in her... well i'm not sure she's wearing a bra, so just, like, there. in her bobbies. she is too shocked by ichiban being dead to care, and she stumbles back a step or two and just stares at the bus.]
[ for all her blustering, death isn't as easy to shrug off as she'd like it to be. there's a separation between her feelings and her actions, an acceptance of the kind of person she is, that makes it so she can swing the sword. cut people down. it is different in this context - a selfless choice, yet still a violent end that none of them can control. was it worth it?
she's shocked too, at the suddenness of it. the finality of it. no fanfare, no nothing. just carnage. she looks to throné, noticing the chain. great. awesome. she doesn't like that it leads to the engine, if only because she isn't sure she can convince throné to throw herself in, if that's what any of this means.
any other time, baiken would just walk away. but she can't.]
[The watch is ticking in her chest, now, just by the way. They can both probably hear that happening. I'm really gonna have to keep writing it like this if that's where she's keeping the watch huh?]
[He glances up at that, from where he was checking his own watch, completely unconcerned with Ichiban's unfortunate demise.]
Your ties.
[It seems at first like that's all he'll say, but he does at least elaborate:]
You'll drag each other into hell, or drag each other back out of it. That's up to you. But I would hurry up and use the watch; we should have company soon.
[that seems to snap her out of it a little. she looks up at verg, and then. pulls the watch out of her tiddies. what's it doing?
there's a thought that crosses her mind - something awful and twisty and sad, because you can drag each other out of hell just makes her think about viktor. but she pushes it aside firmly, and focuses. can she try somehow to bring ichiban back with this thing? she shakes it.]
[The watch rings as an alarm sounds. Their vision goes dark, and when they can see again-
They're standing in front of an enormous door, one that looms far above them. Heat emanates from the gap between its panels, agonized cries and wails audible through it, and as it creaks open, the heat increases. Not enough to burn, but it's absolutely unpleasant.
When there's enough space made... hands reach through the gap, with a multitude of laments. One of them, they can see clearly, belongs to Ichiban.
The question isn't exactly spoken aloud. It's more that they feel it, in some way:
[oh my god we really sent ichiban to real hell through the act of vore
throné is a pretty sensible person! she's reasonable. she thinks before she acts, mostly, and she isn't the type to immediately put herself in danger for other people. she'd describe herself as selfish, even, when it comes to self-preservation. this is danger. this is something that might get her killed. the hands are terrifying, and uncomfortably familiar. really, her instinct is to get rid of them somehow, attack or get baiken away from them or something, but she sees ichiban's hand.
and throné does not think this time. will they share the pain? throné will, even if baiken does not. she reaches out and grabs his hand and pulls.]
[ the choice is obvious. baiken has said it before - she's consigned to hell. it's come a bit sooner than she had anticipated, but now, flinching at the oppressive heat... the choice on what to do comes to her easily.
was it this easy for ichiban, when he had jumped in?
baiken strides up behind throné to give her an extra hand (heh) with that piddly strength stat of 8.
it's either that, or she's fighting every single demon in hell solo. ]
And their vision blanks out once more, though this time it's partially with the pain of it. They feel the pain of his death, lessened to a slightly more bearable level with the two of them sharing the burden of it-- every moment of being killed by the engine's jaws. It's impossible to say how long it lasts; time dilates, in moments like this. Maybe it's a few seconds. A few minutes.
When they open their eyes, though, all of them open their eyes. Ichiban will have felt that same pain a second time in the split-second of his revival, but there isn't a mark left on him, and if any of them look at the watch's face... its hands slowly stop spinning backwards, coming to rest as it ceases to radiate warmth.
They're all right back where they started, by the bus.]
If you're finished, [their guide says behind them,] throw them in already.
okay, well, again. she's pretty used to significant amounts of pain, so this sucks but it's not unbearable. she takes the pain of the death fairly silently, mouth clamped shut. don't make noise. don't give them the satisfaction.
and when it's over, and they're all standing there, exactly how they started, throné immediately turns to ichiban and pinches his face as hard as she can. she will stand on her tiptoes if she has to in order to reach.]
Idiot.
[DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN except do. i, flurry, think we should all get death as a little treat.]
[ she grits her teeth against the pain, letting death(?) take her. it shouldn't have gone any other way--
except they're right back by the bus. ]
...Huh.
[ HUH? and of course VERG!!! is here. that is the real punishment. throné has ichiban handled - which is another 'huh' moment - so she turns her attention to verg again. ]
[ ichiban hears the gnashing, and it doesn't faze him too badly. yeah, it's unsettling, but he's faced worse before, hasn't he? the old tattoo artist in kamurocho has a knack for predicting his subjects' destinies, and he has yet to fail—ichiban is the very embodiment of the brilliant irezumi inked on his back, the koi who swam up the waterfall and became a dragon, after all. he thinks there's still time to negotiate, to maybe find another way that doesn't involve any sacrifices because that's what heroes do, dammit—
but then the bus's gruesome mouth suddenly envelops him whole, and though it happens faster than his brain can process, he screams as his entire being is eviscerated by the cold unfeeling metal, skin and sinew and marrow all blending together until the man known as ichiban kasuga ceases to be in one final burst of unimaginable excruciation. fuck, FUCK, it hurts, i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry, is this really how it ends, arakawa-san—
and then it's over.
he opens his eyes. he blinks once, twice, patting himself up and down. he flails his arms, he touches his face, he almost grabs at throné and baiken before his brain turns back on and quickly decides he'd like to continue being alive and in one piece, thanks.
he takes throné's pinch without flinching, and with his final breath before he needs to inhale once more, he simply utters, ]
just, without any words at all she's going to start trying to drag the fuckin bodies towards the teeth. with her noodle arms. she wants away from this entire place and if ichiban tries to jump in again she's going to lose her whole mind. that scream is still echoing in her head, thank you.]
depending on how you look at it, perhaps it is good news that baiken can throw an entire person with one arm. however. that person isn't usually laying prone on the ground, so that kinda sucks having to peel their dying, bleeding bodies up. she scruffs the first one and drags them to the bus. now that she's actually doing it, this feels... gross. ]
[ IMAGINE IF THAT WAS REAL. no, ichiban does not in fact repeat the same stupid mistake that cost him his life the first time around. at the same time... he still looks sickened, almost queasy at the idea of forcing another cognizant being through the jaws of mephistopheles.
but... if there truly is no other way out of here...
. . .
without another word, he casts his gaze downward as he goes to help throné with the body she's trying to carry. ]
[The engine's jaws devour their meal eagerly, crunching their way through the bodies; they're already smeared with Ichiban's blood, but it's shortly indistinguishable from the rest. One by one, it feeds on them as they're tossed in, grinding and grumbling its way along.
Finally, the driver calls out-]
Verg. Mephi's all full. Rumbling ready.
[He glances over his shoulder to her, then gestures for the three of them to follow as he steps back onto the bus. We're good to go, my dudes.]
[ghhhhh. she doesn't feel good about this. she's really kind of nauseated by watching the bus eat people, but it's fine, she'll deal. they were going to die out here anyway. just keep telling yourself that.
once they've got the bodies into the maw, she wipes her hands off on her clothes, and then goes off towards the door of the bus. she's going to sit down and try not to be too sick. like listen - it's one thing to kill people, she's done that plenty, but feeding them to a monster afterwards isn't exactly something that she can desensitize herself to without some effort.
so she just sits here and stares at the ground and makes a face like she's trying to endure a smell she really, really does not like.]
[ what must be done, must be done. if only baiken could be as cold and badass as she really wanted to be, this wouldn't affect her at all. it isn't quite guilt, but something more primal deep down that unsettles her. hm. maybe we will unpack that later.
before reboarding, she takes one last look at this sad excuse of a back alley.
then she gets back on the bus, sitting quietly in her own little row - but not without casting a nasty glare at verg on the way, because. of course. ]
[ it's almost like ichiban shuts down completely as they throw body after body into the grinding engine, his own simply moving of its own accord to get this done and over with. it's much of the same when he brings up the rear and boards last; he doesn't say anything, doesn't sit down, almost doesn't breathe.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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well let me tell you a thing that you're going to very quickly learn on this cyoa - throné is not a fan of blood! she does not like it! so when ichiban's horrible meat remains splash her face and her white clothes, she kind of bluescreens. it's a loading screen up in there as she goes through all five stages of grief very quickly.
she is a little shellshocked? like. w - what do you even do with that? a man just died in front of her that she considered a friend and she doesn't know she's on cyoa so she just. thinks he's dead. like, for real, forever. maybe he is!
she feels the warmth of the pocketwatch where she has stashed it, unfortunately, in her... well i'm not sure she's wearing a bra, so just, like, there. in her bobbies. she is too shocked by ichiban being dead to care, and she stumbles back a step or two and just stares at the bus.]
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she's shocked too, at the suddenness of it. the finality of it. no fanfare, no nothing. just carnage. she looks to throné, noticing the chain. great. awesome. she doesn't like that it leads to the engine, if only because she isn't sure she can convince throné to throw herself in, if that's what any of this means.
any other time, baiken would just walk away. but she can't.]
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she's not unused to violence, but the fact that she's expecting something to change and nothing really does has her stunned.
how in the fuck are they going to get the other bodies in there.]
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so baiken tears herself away from the scene and back to verg, her beloated. ]
Hey. What's up with the chains?
[ (teej voice) he doesn't know what the fuckity-fuck you're talking about ]
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Your ties.
[It seems at first like that's all he'll say, but he does at least elaborate:]
You'll drag each other into hell, or drag each other back out of it. That's up to you. But I would hurry up and use the watch; we should have company soon.
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there's a thought that crosses her mind - something awful and twisty and sad, because you can drag each other out of hell just makes her think about viktor. but she pushes it aside firmly, and focuses. can she try somehow to bring ichiban back with this thing? she shakes it.]
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They're standing in front of an enormous door, one that looms far above them. Heat emanates from the gap between its panels, agonized cries and wails audible through it, and as it creaks open, the heat increases. Not enough to burn, but it's absolutely unpleasant.
When there's enough space made... hands reach through the gap, with a multitude of laments. One of them, they can see clearly, belongs to Ichiban.
The question isn't exactly spoken aloud. It's more that they feel it, in some way:
Will they share the pain?]
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throné is a pretty sensible person! she's reasonable. she thinks before she acts, mostly, and she isn't the type to immediately put herself in danger for other people. she'd describe herself as selfish, even, when it comes to self-preservation. this is danger. this is something that might get her killed. the hands are terrifying, and uncomfortably familiar. really, her instinct is to get rid of them somehow, attack or get baiken away from them or something, but she sees ichiban's hand.
and throné does not think this time. will they share the pain? throné will, even if baiken does not. she reaches out and grabs his hand and pulls.]
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was it this easy for ichiban, when he had jumped in?
baiken strides up behind throné to give her an extra hand (heh) with that piddly strength stat of 8.
it's either that, or she's fighting every single demon in hell solo. ]
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And their vision blanks out once more, though this time it's partially with the pain of it. They feel the pain of his death, lessened to a slightly more bearable level with the two of them sharing the burden of it-- every moment of being killed by the engine's jaws. It's impossible to say how long it lasts; time dilates, in moments like this. Maybe it's a few seconds. A few minutes.
When they open their eyes, though, all of them open their eyes. Ichiban will have felt that same pain a second time in the split-second of his revival, but there isn't a mark left on him, and if any of them look at the watch's face... its hands slowly stop spinning backwards, coming to rest as it ceases to radiate warmth.
They're all right back where they started, by the bus.]
If you're finished, [their guide says behind them,] throw them in already.
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okay, well, again. she's pretty used to significant amounts of pain, so this sucks but it's not unbearable. she takes the pain of the death fairly silently, mouth clamped shut. don't make noise. don't give them the satisfaction.
and when it's over, and they're all standing there, exactly how they started, throné immediately turns to ichiban and pinches his face as hard as she can. she will stand on her tiptoes if she has to in order to reach.]
Idiot.
[DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN except do. i, flurry, think we should all get death as a little treat.]
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except they're right back by the bus. ]
...Huh.
[ HUH? and of course VERG!!! is here. that is the real punishment. throné has ichiban handled - which is another 'huh' moment - so she turns her attention to verg again. ]
Oi, can it.
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but then the bus's gruesome mouth suddenly envelops him whole, and though it happens faster than his brain can process, he screams as his entire being is eviscerated by the cold unfeeling metal, skin and sinew and marrow all blending together until the man known as ichiban kasuga ceases to be in one final burst of unimaginable excruciation. fuck, FUCK, it hurts, i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry, is this really how it ends, arakawa-san—
and then it's over.
he opens his eyes. he blinks once, twice, patting himself up and down. he flails his arms, he touches his face, he almost grabs at throné and baiken before his brain turns back on and quickly decides he'd like to continue being alive and in one piece, thanks.
he takes throné's pinch without flinching, and with his final breath before he needs to inhale once more, he simply utters, ]
—holy shit.
[ YEAH? ]
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One body wasn't going to fuel the entire bus. If you have to throw your life away, don't do it for something that futile...
[He's just been watching all this happen, man.]
Before you complain at me about the process again, keep in mind they're not going to live long out here whether you do it or not.
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just, without any words at all she's going to start trying to drag the fuckin bodies towards the teeth. with her noodle arms. she wants away from this entire place and if ichiban tries to jump in again she's going to lose her whole mind. that scream is still echoing in her head, thank you.]
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[ she hates you so much, verg.
depending on how you look at it, perhaps it is good news that baiken can throw an entire person with one arm. however. that person isn't usually laying prone on the ground, so that kinda sucks having to peel their dying, bleeding bodies up. she scruffs the first one and drags them to the bus. now that she's actually doing it, this feels... gross. ]
See you in hell.
[ and in goes the first (second) victim. ]
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he jumps in again ]
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but... if there truly is no other way out of here...
. . .
without another word, he casts his gaze downward as he goes to help throné with the body she's trying to carry. ]
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Finally, the driver calls out-]
Verg. Mephi's all full. Rumbling ready.
[He glances over his shoulder to her, then gestures for the three of them to follow as he steps back onto the bus. We're good to go, my dudes.]
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once they've got the bodies into the maw, she wipes her hands off on her clothes, and then goes off towards the door of the bus. she's going to sit down and try not to be too sick. like listen - it's one thing to kill people, she's done that plenty, but feeding them to a monster afterwards isn't exactly something that she can desensitize herself to without some effort.
so she just sits here and stares at the ground and makes a face like she's trying to endure a smell she really, really does not like.]
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before reboarding, she takes one last look at this sad excuse of a back alley.
then she gets back on the bus, sitting quietly in her own little row - but not without casting a nasty glare at verg on the way, because. of course. ]
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man. ]
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