[ The room is BRIGHT YELLOW, as all the rooms you will enter are. Black tiles make up the floor, changing to your unit's color when pressure is placed on them. There is a button in the very center of the room standing on a podium; it's slightly smaller than palm-sized.]
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♫]
King vs Thorn
Re: King vs Thorn
Re: King vs Thorn
... Well.
Re: King vs Thorn
How are we doing this?
Re: King vs Thorn
I'm not interested in fighting you, unless that's how you'd prefer to settle this.
But we could also leave it to a game of chance.
Re: King vs Thorn
Re: King vs Thorn
We both roll.
Highest number moves on.
Re: King vs Thorn
...sounds fair.
Reroll on a tie?
Re: King vs Thorn
On three.
Three... two...
Re: King vs Thorn
[He rolls: a three.]
Re: King vs Thorn
Re: King vs Thorn
...okay. Well, that answers that.
Re: King vs Thorn
...
I'm sorry.
Re: King vs Thorn
Re: King vs Thorn
Yes.
[ He bends down to pick up the dice, unsure of what to say, but...
Then just inclines his head - gratefully maybe? - and moves to activate the button. ]
Re: King vs Thorn
HALLUCINATIONS - THORN
You are pressed down to a cold steel slab, chest naked against its surface. The weight atop you crushes your hands into your back, and it grows heavier and heavier by the moment but at a rate that is so excruciatingly slow and painful. Part of you hopes that it crushes to death before the warden approaches, before the monsters that slink about in the dark are allowed to feast, but that part is denied. You feel his hands on your shoulders, pressing down in some twisted mockery of a massage. You lift your head as much as you are able, but it's painful. But! But! In the distance, you can see a dim light. So beautiful...you can feel hope well up inside you. If you can just reach that light…!
And then you hear the crier on the awning outside, announcing the death of your friends and unitmates. One by one, with the details of the unimaginable horrors they faced and the pain they were in. And you know if you could just muster the strength to throw off this weight, you could stop them from doing this, you could turn back the clock and make everything right!
All you need to do is reach that light. More names pour from the crier's mouth, and you feel the cold steel of a scalpel against your shoulder blades. You stretch yourself, trying to crawl from beneath the weight, across the room, to the light…
It hurts. It hurts so much. Not even what the warden is doing - carving the words 'WEAK' and 'PATHETIC' into your flesh - no, what hurts most of all is the immense effort you have to go through to escape. The popping of your shoulder joints, the tearing of your wrist ligaments, but with every destroyed muscle and pulverized bone you come closer to the light. And then you hear the worst possible noise: the jeers of the crowd outside. The booing, the laughter, the mockery.
They're watching you. They're watching you struggle pathetically, and the crier regales them with the details of your every emotion and your every thought and fear and apprehension, tells them your fear of the warden's touch and of the dark monsters, and they laugh.
You couldn't protect your friends. But...the light comes closer.
You're not strong. But...the you pull the table further along.
Everyone sees how pathetic you are right now. But...the scalpel wounds cut into you heal and scar, and those words can't hurt you. As long as you reach the light.
And finally, body stretched and mangled and utterly destroyed, your public humiliation finally comes to an end. Still trapped under the weight, you manage yourself close enough to reach out and grab it if you can just free a hand…! You'll kill them all, you swear it, you'll grab this light you'll kill them all you'll slaughter that crowd you'll burn this whole damn world down to the ground --
And then you look up,
and you see that your precious light dangles from the head of a wretched beast, its glow revealing that all that waits before you are uneven rows of serrated, jagged teeth. The warden gives the signal to feast, and worst of all?
As you are devoured alive, the crowd doesn't even cheer. They just snicker and joke about the little boy who couldn't.
Re: HALLUCINATIONS - THORN
Physical:
> Chewed up flesh
> Scalpel wounds
> Crushed limb
Non-Physical:
> Attracted to light
> Fear of the dark
> Constant insults and murmurs being whispered in your ear