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Entry tags:
Betrayal - sensitIV
[ You spill out of the elevator onto a Bloody Room— the elevator is gone when you look back.
How . . . how appropriately named. It looks like it used to be someone's bedroom - a child's, perhaps, from how the walls have bright colors and animal print, although the colors have long since faded and the animal print is peeling. Now it looks creepy with all of the blood - and there is a lot. Did a murder happen here? Did two? Three? No matter the number, it seems like it's not enough to explain the numerous bloody handprints that claw up all four walls, reaching even the ceiling, and after a certain point below it seems like the whole room was flooded with blood, matching mid-waist on average. That's really concerning!
Aside from . . . all the blood, there is a twin sized bed - the mystery, really, is how this bed ended up not being so bloody; although there are stains against the wood that indicate handprints, the sheets themselves are mostly clean and white except for one handprint on the corner. It's also entirely too big for a child, sized for an adult; across it, there is a vanity and several full-length mirrors aligned to allow someone to look at themself in every angle. Sitting on the vanity is a white veil, flowery and sheer; hanging on one of the mirrors is one near-perfectly intact bridal dress, completely in white - except for the bloody handprint square against the chest.
You can't help looking at the veil, the dress - and feel a tightening in your chest and a flood of emotions overwhelms you briefly - jealous, ugly, and lonely. Spiteful-- fine, so unwanted were they? Then this would be the end of it. A death that would marr the happiness the other sought to obtain by abandoning it, and the letter penned at the desk would make certain everyone knew whose feet to lay blame out. A knife in the drawer ready to be buried in the wrists and soon everything would be done— none of those feelings are yours. They exist like reading a letter, a record of someone else's thoughts, someone else's life tucked away inside an envelope. You could open it again, read it until you could imagine it real, but why would you want to? But if you lose your sanity, or are damaged too far, that envelope will open and it will be read again, loud enough to drown you out.
A ring sits on the vanity, with Exael's hologram sitting backwards at the chair there facing towards you and reflecting in none of the mirrors. If you have questions and she's not busy with hosting or another unit, she'll appear here to answer them.
A readout on your phone tells you the rules and displays the sanity goal (explore rooms) and your traitor goal (bring someone to the altar and murder them, or otherwise make out with them and then kill them) as well as the item that you've been given (ring). It looks like nothing is stopping you from committing the traitor goal even while you're sane, if you wish to.
There is one exit: West. ]
How . . . how appropriately named. It looks like it used to be someone's bedroom - a child's, perhaps, from how the walls have bright colors and animal print, although the colors have long since faded and the animal print is peeling. Now it looks creepy with all of the blood - and there is a lot. Did a murder happen here? Did two? Three? No matter the number, it seems like it's not enough to explain the numerous bloody handprints that claw up all four walls, reaching even the ceiling, and after a certain point below it seems like the whole room was flooded with blood, matching mid-waist on average. That's really concerning!
Aside from . . . all the blood, there is a twin sized bed - the mystery, really, is how this bed ended up not being so bloody; although there are stains against the wood that indicate handprints, the sheets themselves are mostly clean and white except for one handprint on the corner. It's also entirely too big for a child, sized for an adult; across it, there is a vanity and several full-length mirrors aligned to allow someone to look at themself in every angle. Sitting on the vanity is a white veil, flowery and sheer; hanging on one of the mirrors is one near-perfectly intact bridal dress, completely in white - except for the bloody handprint square against the chest.
You can't help looking at the veil, the dress - and feel a tightening in your chest and a flood of emotions overwhelms you briefly - jealous, ugly, and lonely. Spiteful-- fine, so unwanted were they? Then this would be the end of it. A death that would marr the happiness the other sought to obtain by abandoning it, and the letter penned at the desk would make certain everyone knew whose feet to lay blame out. A knife in the drawer ready to be buried in the wrists and soon everything would be done— none of those feelings are yours. They exist like reading a letter, a record of someone else's thoughts, someone else's life tucked away inside an envelope. You could open it again, read it until you could imagine it real, but why would you want to? But if you lose your sanity, or are damaged too far, that envelope will open and it will be read again, loud enough to drown you out.
A ring sits on the vanity, with Exael's hologram sitting backwards at the chair there facing towards you and reflecting in none of the mirrors. If you have questions and she's not busy with hosting or another unit, she'll appear here to answer them.
A readout on your phone tells you the rules and displays the sanity goal (explore rooms) and your traitor goal (bring someone to the altar and murder them, or otherwise make out with them and then kill them) as well as the item that you've been given (ring). It looks like nothing is stopping you from committing the traitor goal even while you're sane, if you wish to.
There is one exit: West. ]
Re: Session 11 Discussion
[ he looks like you just smacked him in the face. ]
What? What are you talking about? ..... what do you mean "your own happiness"?
[ he should be happy for him. but instead... there's a tight, twisting feeling in his chest.
the fucked up part is he can't really tell if that's the ghost or not. ]
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.... Hiryuu isn't....... [ god, he feels sick thinking about Hiryuu right now. his eyes draw downwards, ]
She's important to me. But that doesn't make you any less important.
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Please, don't lie.
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I'm not lying!
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You are!
[ with his left hand in a fist as he stands, shouting ]
You're lying! I don't mind not being so important but you could do me the kindness of treating me as such! I know I'm a wretched person but it's horrible of you to make fun of me like this! Haven't you any shame!?
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he backs up a step, if only because Lucifel stood. speechless for a good moment. he can't quite keep up. where did this come from? ]
........... why would I.... ever make fun of you for something like that? [ remember? in the chapel... ] Even if I disagree with you. Even if I hate you. I still love you.
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Why - that's what I'd like to know! For what other reason would you pity me to such an extent! I'm only a burden on you, after all - I don't blame you! But it's cruel, to continue this joke even after I've figured it all out!
[ his voice climbs as he yells more, incoherent to everyone but himself ]
I'm sorry to have burdened you so you can stop pretending to care!
[ and he stops, taking a heavy breath. then, ]
At least you admit that I am wretched. Let me go, then. I can't bear to see you happy in front of me.
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Luci...
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[ with bared teeth as he inches to the door ]
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-- Lucifel, wait! [ starts after him.
there's still a gun on the floor. ]
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or maybe it's hurricane
Anyone who will pay attention to me.
spotting it, and immediately picking it up ]
. . . What is it, Loki-san?
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he's. eyeing it. wary. ]
..... at least let me go with you. [ he says, but Persephone is ALSO leaving ]
We should protect Persephone. [ please put that down. ]
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I might want to kill him myself.
No, most assuredly, I will.
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Give me the gun--- [ he lunges for it. ]
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Stabbed you,,, 6 might to your sanity come on bro ]
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but that's okay. that's fine. he's just going to take this opportunity to grab Lucifel by the wrist and keep him right here. ]
I won't... let you kill yourself.....
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that's a 2 might, but it's mostly meant to distract him.
and then he's going to run out the door.]
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. . . Don't be silly.
[ calmly, twisting the knife in him ]
There's no happiness to be found in something like that.
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that. twists. that hurts. a lot, actually.
he gasps, doubling over and falling to one knee. his grip shaking, maybe enough to let Lucifel go if he really tried. ]
...... d... .. do you really hate me that much? That you don't even want to be with me. Even though I....
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. . . I loved you. I love you still, like a fool - go ahead and laugh at me.
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he. uh. ..... tears just. start falling. which is definitely laughing obviously, this is laughing. it's so funny that he's crying Lucifel. ]
... I love you, too. ..... that's why... if you really want to kill me that much, I won't stop you.
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. . . Then, give me your finger.
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1/2
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