GAME OVER (S██'s Palace)

[pointzeropercent]

Comments

[prozaic]

I have it, thank you.

[Rutile gave him the gun, and. Well. He has ideas.]

Hand me the bullets, everyone. I'll spin the barrel before the first shot, and be sure to aim at a person before a mannequin.

[pointzeropercent]

[Currently seats 1, 3, 4, 5, and 8 are occupied by mannequins. Seats 2, 6, 7, and 9 are free for the taking.

Once the four seats are filled and the shooter as loaded the gun (specifying what order the bullets are being put in the gun, spots 1-9), then we shall begin.]

[metagame]

[Atem sits in seat six!]

[speedingticket]

[ Gently sitting down in seat 2... ]

[moodwrecker]

[She'll take lucky seat number seven and try not to look too nervous (she's hella nervous)]

[pointzeropercent]

[Sayaka will be in seat 9 then.]

[prozaic]

Very well. [Sighs. He can't believe he's playing this stupid! Fucking! Game!

He hates Ursine Russian roulette so much.]

First two chambers get blanks. Third has a live round. Fourth and fifth have blanks. The sixth and seventh have live rounds, and the eighth and ninth have blanks. For those keeping track, you may be thinking that this gun has ten chambers-- no, all of them are filled. This is a custom gun that defies gun safety just by existing and if it explodes in my hand as I shoot, I will not be surprised. Unimpressed, but not surprised. [You can TELL he hates this game.]

And, now I spin it. [There goes the whirr of the barrel spinning, Shalem waiting for it to come to a halt before snapping it in place.]

[pointzeropercent]

[The barrel spins and spins round after round, going so fast nobody can keep track of which bullet is where. Finally it snaps back into place, a random bullet from that orientation in the chamber.

Fire at will, Shalem.]

[prozaic]

[You know what? He'll put Rutile out of his misery first, since he's very nervous.]

Feel free to haunt me if you do die. Nightmares have no hold on me anymore, but guilt is still an emotion I possess. But I do hope my idea works and you live, I do like you.

[Not in the like-like-- don't tell Haruka.]

1/2 (CW: GUNSHOT DEATH)

[pointzeropercent]

[See, the funny thing is that with dummy bullets, nothing flies out the end. It 'fires' like a real bullet, but the only worry is the concussive force of the air and gunpowder.

From the moment Shalem fires the gun, it's very clear that he has fired a real bullet right at Rutile's head. In the blink of an eye it buries itself in his forehead, ending his life in a flash of pain.]

RUTILE HAS EXPIRED

2/3??

[speedingticket]

[ Rutile bites his lip. It's nice to know, at least, in this moment of tension, that who was once a kind stranger does actually like him. He trusts Shalem, in turn, and he trusts he'll make good on his word, that he knows what he's doing, that no one will die.

He squeezes his eyes shut. He won't haunt him. But he thinks, of prayer: Tell my brother, Figaro, Lennox, I love them. Tell Mithra and the sage I'm sorry.

It scarcely hurts.

The bullet pierces his head and it's over in an instant. But instead of blood that drips from the wound, cracks spread outward across his body, like fine porcelain dropped onto the floor. In its wake blooms a brilliant iridescent blue, shining muted under the dim light of the room.

For a split second, it remains in the shape of Rutile.

In the next second, it shatters. Scattering over the chair and the floor and rolling to Shalem's feet are hundreds of fragments of beautiful mana stones. ]

3/3

[pointzeropercent]

[But then time rewinds in front of everyone's eyes. The pieces of Rutile rise up from the ground, pulling together to form the shape of Rutile once more. The gemstone look changes back to flesh and bone. The bullet comes back out of Rutile's forehead, back into the gun, and all the way back to the moment when Shalem is about to put the bullets into the gun.

Time is reversed, but the memory remains.

In that moment, a teal hand is covering Shalem's.]

You almost got it. Look a little closer, you're nearly there.

[And then that friendly face is gone again.]

[beathollow]

( rutile's demise- and his... combustion? draw a startled scream out of mafuyu, though she's quick to cover her mouth. she should look away, but she can't- so instead she'll stare, eyes wide and mounting horror growing. )

R-Rutile...?

[speedingticket]

[ Rutile looks at Mafuyu, hands on his mouth and tears spilling from his eyes. He looks just as alarmed and scared as her, and whatever she feels is likely mirrored in his own eyes. ]

[speedingticket]

[ Rutile snaps back to life, but that raw sensation of being turned to stone sits with him. Fresh. He thinks he's dreaming. He pinches himself and pats his chest and his legs and his forehead and he looks up at Shalem—

Whatever expression Shalem has on his face doesn't matter. Because regardless, Rutile will cover his mouth and burst into tears. ]

cw: suicidal imagery

[prozaic]

I see. [That's hissed out, entirely snake-like, as he watches Rutile cry. He was not lying about still being able to feel guilt, by the way. He really does, because he wasn't lying about liking Rutile, even if his expression is quite... angry.

Mutinous, even.

He doesn't even get the courtesy of truly dying, huh? He gets to live and feel the hurt and shame of having been watched. Well then.]

I wonder... Is this allowed? [He's not talking to anyone but Sou right now, as he turns the gun on himself, pressed right under his chin to be sure the recoil won't jerk his hand and make the shot go wide when he pulls the trigger. And he's doing it quickly before anyone can stop him.]

[moodwrecker]

[Aubrey shrieks as Rutile is executed, and even once his body is reformed from... stones? She's still got her hands clapped over her mouth as she tries to reign in panicked breaths.]

[unweathered]

[ Schneider doesn't even blink. She's used to uglier, gorier messes. It also means she's a very bad person for comforting.

Hm. She looks at the gun closely, frowning. What can she notice?]

What terrible luck...

[pointzeropercent]

[It seems like there is a faint glow on three of the slots. Two glowing teal, then one glowing magenta.]

[unweathered]

[Hmmmm]

Oh? How does that help?

[prozaic]

The weights of a live round and blanks are different. Imperceptibly to us, but it may still change the outcome.

[unweathered]

Hm. Good luck then.

[beathollow]

( WATCHING AS THE GAME UNFOLDS LIKE ARE YOU SEEING THIS )

[unweathered]

[She should have gotten aggressive. This is what happens when she plays nice. Sigh]

[beathollow]

( mafuyu supports the beatiful murderqueen. )