idolpro | Betrayal - BAD END=DEAD END

[ You spill out of the elevator into a graveyard— the elevator is gone when you look back.

It is, predictably, spooky as fuck: cobwebs culminate to huge masses of spindly white on the iron bars that line the plot of land, as well as on the various headstones. They're unreadable by this point, text worn away by time and wind, but while many of these graves have only been exposed to forces of nature, some of them have been tampered by what could only be human hands. Several grave plots have been completely upturned, caskets open and skeletons exposed, bodies completely broken and arranged messily as if someone had manhandled them in order to look for something. The caskets give a clear idea of what that might be: there are parts missing to them, the lining and the decorative emblems and even the hinges, on some caskets. Grave robbing seems to be popular, here.

There are also just a few graves with an open coffin and no body. How . . . mysterious. . .

Not everyone who died here was given a coffin, or a grave. The sight of an empty coffin's decadent lining fills you with a sense of revulsion; you get the feeling that some people's finery came at other people's expense. Someone amidst the less fortunate once tried to bring justice - only to fail, and die a nameless, unknown death, while these people went on to one day even rot in more silk and gold. But it's just a hunch - the knowledge sits uncertainly in your head, faint and far-off. You could bring it into focus, maybe, but the vague impression of loathing and despair - well, it's probably better off left a vague impression. If you lose your sanity, or are damaged too far, though, it will overwhelm you.

A medallion sits on an intact monument and Exael's hologram balances on the edge of it, rocking back and forth and watching you. 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 (kill someone and steal an item from them) as well as the item that you've been given (medallion). 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: East. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ There's a sharp intake of breath at the contact, suddenly too much— But he couldn't tell Phoenix to let go if he tried and he doesn't want to try, his arms reaching to hold onto him every bit as tightly as he's physically capable of. He's leaning some of his weight against Phoenix and maybe he should feel bad about it— but he can't, he needs this. He needs this. ]

[His hands are moving, up and down over Sanguine's back, just feeling him, holding him, drawing him closer as a sound escapes him, finally, something raw and broken and tired.

The time dilation is bad enough, but there's such anger overlaying his emotions he can't process them. All he can do is cling to Sanguine and makes a noise like rusty metal scraping a chalkboard, a hoarse attempt at a scream that doesn't stop until he's out of voice and breath.]

[ For his part, Sanguine is just going to hang onto Phoenix and let him scream out his anger. It's not that he isn't angry— he's furious— but somehow, there's something soothing in even just hearing someone else do it, hearing Phoenix do it— after he spent so long just looking for any small sign of Phoenix in that hellish mirror world.

So he'll just breath raggedly, unevenly as he listens to the creaking sounds of Phoenix's fury. ]

[He's digging his fingers into Sanguine's shoulders, his back, clawing through his shirt a little as he catches his breath, ragged panting.

He doesn't have words anymore, not right now, all he has is raw emotions and pain and he's clinging to Sanguine like a lifeline.

Part of him is aware something is wrong with Sanguine, but it's hard to really focus on any one thing in the maelstrom of wrongness.]

[ Sanguine— he doesn't think, a lifetime ago, that he would have called himself a masochist— but even the feeling of Phoenix's nails catching on his skin is the sensation of something, and he craves that too. He wants to say something, anything, but he feels like he used up all his words with Phoenix's name.

What else is there to say?

There's darkness creeping in on the corners of his vision but he's fighting it back, that fuzzy feeling of returning to nothing. He's had far too much of nothing, he doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts. His hands are gripping onto Phoenix's shirt, every bit as tight as the arms clinging to the other man. He has to focus on this. He has to focus on now. ]

[Gonna be a long time before he uncurls from Sanguine, and Sanguine might have bloody nail scratches even through his clothes from Phoenix kind of trying to claw his way into Sanguine's skin at some points. It's fine. It's fine? It's not fine. He's so upset. So angry. He pulls back just enough touch Sanguine's face, roughly brushing his thumb over his cheek, staring at him intensely.]

[ It's not fine. It's not fine at all, and the parts of him that were screaming in his mind with Phoenix are incandescent with rage, like a fire burning wildly out of control. But when Phoenix is touching his face, is looking at him, it's... it's not enough. It's not enough. There's something wild and not quite himself screaming for blood.

But there's a lonely isolated part of himself that is emboldened only by the fact he's already being touched to reach out and lightly stroke Phoenix's face with one hand even while his other hand is still clinging roughly to the other. ]

[He drops his forehead to Sanguine's, breathing in his breath, tucking his hair behind his ear, holding him. The touch isn't stopping, he won't be able to let go, this is the only thing grounding him from full madness right now, Sanguine's presence, alive, solid, human, anchors him from the darkness all around, creeping in at every opportunity, the cool smooth emptiness of glass waiting just outside the warmth that is Sanguine's touch.]

Phoenix.

[ The name is softer this time, but the honorific is dropped and despite his inability to inject any inflection into his voice at the present, it still feels like that one word contains the world right now. It's a lifeline, Phoenix is a lifeline, and he just needs to convince himself this is real. All of it is real, and the touch helps. The words help. Nothing is fine and he feels like glass, but Phoenix is human and real and it's enough. ]

[Nothing is okay but Sanguine is warm and feels real and he's going to drop one of his hands to hold Sanguine's, to curl their fingers together too tightly so he can keep hold of him.]

[ Too tightly? Sanguine might have supposed so— except the pressure was good, grounding. A relief so profound that he shudders with it. His return grip is just as tight, just as affirming— the better to keep the shadows at bay. He leans momentarily against Phoenix— Sanguine knows they need to leave, they've got to go deal with H... But it doesn't hurt to take just one more moment to enjoy this. ]

Betrayal - BAD END=DEAD END

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