[ 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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Lucifel vs Mars
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[SORRY ABOUT YOUR LUNGS, LUCIFEL]
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stepping in, and ]
Are you the sort to hold grudges if you lose?
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How are we defining "grudge?"
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Basically, I'm not going to let myself lose this game, but I'd like to avoid having any bad blood with you if possible, Mars-san.
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[he was already planning on flipping the middle finger to the game and THROWING IT anyway for the sake of his own agency, but. . .]
[this is lucifel]
Give me 10k points and I'll let you hit the button.
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. . .
hmm ]
Will you accept an advance payment now, and the rest later?
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[because]
[you know]
[. . . HSS. . .]
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[sticks out a hand as he puffs out another curl of smoke, tapping his cigarette to spread ashes onto the ground. it gives him the appearance of a FANCY MOB BOSS kind of]
Deal.
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with money and eyes that can make people die on sight nothing can stop you ]
. . . If you end up feeling like you want some payback later anyway, then just let me know.
[ idk if he can send the money RIGHT RIGHT NOW but an attempt is being made while he pushes button ]
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Nah. Don't worry about it.
[puts his cigarette out on the wall as he pulls out his phone to check for the transfer. EVEN IF HE DOESN'T GET IT NOW he does trust Lucifel at his word since he paid up last time, so]
Can't say I'm the kind of guy who never holds a grudge, but I am easily bought off.
Heh.
[that's not something to brag about]
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How's the phrase go? Money makes the world go around?
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I'll see you later, Mars-san.
[ and, going for the door, without turning back ]
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[he's still grinning, all sharp lines and confidence and smug victory]
[not today, demon assholes]
Hallucinations - Mars
Chains bind your wrists and ankles, with an iron collar heavy around your neck, the other ends trailing up high above you to some anchor beyond your sight. And they begin to move—the strings pulling at your limbs like you're a marionette, walking you toward what you were always meant to do. What you want to do. Toward the ones you wish were your friends, and will never be. You're a puppet, a doll that's just a play-toy for pretend—a worse version of the real thing.
They left you collapsed in a corner, your strings cut and lifeless, but something new has picked you up again. Something stronger. The long, wicked knives in each of your hands feels like it's glued there, and you know, you just know, that you could take his place, if you let these strings pull you. Your legs burn—you can see a glow at your feet, as if they're on fire, as if they're crumbling away to ashes—and this will be your last and only chance.
But there's a jerk, and the chains collapse—with horror, the spitting images of your friends pull your chains down and bind you. The knives press against your own papery skin, tearing through to the emptiness underneath. You deserve this, they don't understand, he's never suffered like you've suffered, but they lock you away in a closet, to smoulder and burn yourself out, your false paper-flesh flaking away until the chains collapse around nothing.
Because that's what you are.
Re: Hallucinations - Mars
Physical:
> Strings through your hands, your skin, etc.
> Burned legs
> Balljoints
Non-Physical:
> Desire to be tied up
> Increase Jealousy of Joker
> Increased loneliness