ROUND 4

[idolpro]

[ 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.]

[♫]

Comments

Requiem vs Fox

[idolpro]

Re: Requiem vs Fox

[stakesthesame]

[ Well, she's-- uh. Crying.

But she immediately casts Lightning Flash to blind her opponent and books it to the button. ]

Re: Requiem vs Fox

[artisticliberty]

[crying? that's--

well now he's blinded but he's going to cast Double Take on her to make her ~DO THE SHUFFLE~]

Who's there!?

Re: Requiem vs Fox

[stakesthesame]

[ what the fuck

her voice shaky: ]

-- let me go!

Hallucinations - Requiem (for ooc funsies only)

[nohalation]

It’s pathetic, really—how weak you are, even now. That’s why they threw you down here, isn’t it? That’s why they locked you away in this tiny chamber of old stone, where the air smells like dust and dried blood, and where no one ever has to look at you again.

You really thought you could be good. You were so stupid, a real dingus! That you could just be a girl, and get to have the things that regular girls get—friends and love and kindness, but you're just useless, and eventually, they figured that out. Not a good enough girl to be worth being friends with; not good enough as a monster to protect fucking anything.

Your own unitmates couldn't even tolerate you fucking stuff up—guess it had just been the last straw for them. Some family. Even if you are a monster, you never really fit in; you were never quite sure what it was, but somehow you just never pulled your weight the right way. Too anxious to be enough of a loving weirdo; trying too much to be what you're not to be enough of a ruthless badass. Maki shoves you down the stairs, and only Dia shoots you an apologetic smile as they all turn away.

[...]

This is who you are. It has always been who you are.

You spent so long denying it, but what’s the point anymore? All it’s ever done is gotten you hurt, and if you’d just been a little bit smarter, maybe at least you wouldn’t have wasted all that time kidding yourself. You hunch over as your bones shift and your muscles bulge, as coarse dark fur covers you and sharp teeth crowd your widening mouth. And your white wings—what a dumb joke!— The feathers shed violently, floating down around you with bloodied quills, leaving behind bare skin, leathery and black.

There’s a rising heat in here, and at first you think it’s inside you, but then you hear the crackle of a catching spark, and see light reflected off the shine of a metal leg, a metal arm, standing just atop the stairs.

The flames creep up over the walls, and they’re red, brilliant red, as they coat the room. You are teeth and claws and hunger and rage, and you howl your fury as you hurl yourself against those taunting walls, though the fire sears you and the stones are as unmoved by your pain as were the faces of the people you’d been deluded enough to call your friends.

Hallucinations - Fox, cw cannibalism/vampirism

[idolpro]

You were left for dead.

You're sure they—whoever they are who left you for dead—would be surprised to see you again. You, whoever you are—you don't really remember anymore, your name or purpose, but you remember two things: you are beautiful, and you deserve revenge.

With the mask neatly in place, you hunt them down. You can't remember their name anymore, but you know their face—his face—and it's only a matter of time before you find him. When you get there, though, you're met with a sight different than what you expected to see—instead of him quivering and trembling, shocked at the sight of your reappearance, he's already found his other victims. They're all masked individuals—you recognize that red mask in particular, though you don't know who that is anymore, and your heart feels as though it's crumbling, leaving nothing behind but cold wrath.

He laughs as you strike him with a grey hand, color faded from you long ago; you snarl, bare your teeth, and you try to tear him open with your bare hands while he tries to choke you with his. It's a rough, inelegant fight, but his body breaks down first—his constitution is weak after all, you remember, even though you don't even remember his name—and although you can barely breathe, you're victorious.

This isn't enough, though. This isn't near enough—he's still smiling after all, even as the strength fades from his limbs he manages to work himself up and kiss you—bite you, like he means to eat you—and you,

You kiss him back. You bite him back, canines growing and sharpening into fangs as you sink them into his lips, lap up the blood—the taste is wonderful, dizzying, and you're soon ravaging his neck, draining him completely dry. Color finally returns to your face, the heat of your bloodlust being satiated reddening your cheeks, and you drop his lifeless body to the side.

This isn't enough, though—you're still hungry, satisfied in your vengeance but full of desire still. Your gaze turns to your dear Phantom Thieves—


When the last of their blood is drained, you finally stretch and turn to go, completely energized. You catch yourself in the mirror—your clothes are completely bloody, mouth messy, and you are beautiful.

Re: Hallucinations - Fox, cw cannibalism/vampirism

[idolpro]

[The hallucination was real, it felt so real, and the sensations are hard to lose.

But you do not have any notable leftover status effects.]

Wednesday vs Intensity

[idolpro]

Re: Wednesday vs Intensity

[wonderlandgirl]

[And she runs.

[Doesn't think about it. Can't think about it. One tactic--

[Wednesday registers who she's facing more than sees it. Tall, dark hair, scornful: Intensity. At four times speed she has time to doubt herself, doubt that anything she could come up with could ever be anywhere near good enough against him.

[But she has to keep going. She has to.

[She's got no other ideas.]

1/2

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

[Unfortunately, it's not Intensity that Wednesday has to worry about as the roar of Blue Eyes cuts through the air and swoops down to descend upon her.

(Because let's face it, there's no way this noodle can outrun a pep! Possibly not even on normal speed).]

Re: Wednesday vs Intensity

[bluescreenwhitedragon]

[And he stalks forward looking absolutely LIVID as he gets a good look at his adversary.]

You?

My opponent after---

[He grits his teeth]

--Is you!?

Re: Wednesday vs Intensity

[wonderlandgirl]

[She dodges.

[Screams-- but dodges.

[One tactic, she tells herself. One tactic. It's not quite enough. She has to struggle free, but even that - even that she can do in an eyeblink, and even Blue Eyes might not quite keep up.

[And then she's free. He's stalking toward her and his gaze is terrible but one tactic, one tactic and she's free

[So she picks herself up, and she runs--

[(because she's come this far, and she can't stop now)

[--a gaudy pink streak taring straight for the button, fingers scrabbling for a moment at the smooth surface before she strikes it hard as she can with her palm.]

Hallucinations - Intensity

[nohalation]

You worked hard to get where you are, didnt you? You swore you wouldn't let anything stand in your way—you never have, after all. You built your empire on the corpses of those who would stand in your way… because of ambition, but also because of those most dear to you. For everyone who's come to depend on you—for Mokuba, for Angel and Silence/Song/Symphony and Shine and Duality and the rest of future is now, for Maki, for King, for everyone who's put their trust in you.

In front of all of them—you stand, ready to face down the forces of Hell. You'll be in control, at last, able to keep you and yours safe. That's real power.

But, you realize—where are they? Where is everyone who should have stood behind you?

You stand alone, and soon enough, you're not standing at all—one man, one boy can only do so much. They beat you down with fists and blunt weapons and overwhelming force, grind your face into the dirt. Your bones crunch and break, and you bite through your tongue in a futile effort to grit your teeth against screaming. Hell is the home of rebels, but it has no room for new ones, and your so-called friends have abandoned you in fear of the danger that now crushes you and you alone.
Even the construct dragon who you came to love so much—it's here to gnaw on your neck. It was only ever a construction of Hell, after all, temporarily on loan to you. It doesn't listen to you anymore, a rebel cast aside.

What did you sacrifice your whole self for, anyway? Because you sure can't see any of it from where you lay.

Hallucinations : Wednesday c w vines/etc in/under skin what do you call this

[nohalation]

It’s bright.

Before you is a veritable sea of stars; the crowd’s lightsticks shine so brightly, pinpricks of pink enough to cut through any gloom. You’re on a stage lit perfectly for a concert, a field of flowers at your feet all in that same color. Your dress, too—adorned with bows and ribbons, long and flowing at your throat and around your waist and flanking each leg—pastel pink silk embroidered with flowers and bordered with lace, perfectly suits the bright and peppy scenery. It perfectly suits you, the Idol shining at pep!pep!’s back, vibrant and kind.
But they’re too tight.

The silks are like a vise around your throat, your waist, your legs, and you can’t dance like this. With your hands free, you could always loosen them, could always remove them, but you would look so very plain without them, wouldn’t you? What appeal could you possibly have without your color, when each person here in front of you has come to see you perform? Levi, Ruby, all of your unit, everyone—everyone has come to watch you, has worked themselves up into this fervor for you, and you’ve offered them nothing in return. They all go silent, the glow of the lightsticks growing dim at your inaction, but around your throat, your waist, your legs are too tight and you can’t dance like this and your throat,

When you reach up, finally, a hand extended to the crowd, a hand to loosen the tie at your throat, a derisive bark of laughter rings out in the silence, explodes into raucous hooting and hollering, all at your expense. Even your unit, even Ruby, even Levi—
And you cry. You can’t help it.

Without the spotlights, without the displays, without the lightsticks that once shone around you, it feels far too dark, too cold up on the stage alone, and so, shedding tears, you wish.
To sink into the earth, to let it carry you away from this shame, from the stifling fear.
Vines and roots spring up from among the flowers gnarled and ugly, a dark stain upon the field you failed in. It perfectly suits you, the millstone around pep!pep!’s neck, slothful and cruel.
How long did you really think you could avoid this price? They pierce your at your arms and legs, worming themselves in through the wounds, snaking beneath your skin as the ribbons fray and burst from the pressure, dragging you deeper and deeper into the darkness heedless of your tears.

And around you, the air grows thin.

Amaranth vs Ruby Sour

[idolpro]

Re: Amaranth vs Ruby Sour

[worthathousand]

[ She's still covered in a protective coating of silvery cherry bark when she enters, looking a touch winded.

All she's looking for is her opponent, not even trying to register who they are before Cut-Tongue Sparrow blinds them. ]

Re: Amaranth vs Ruby Sour

[notadrop]

[ well fuck!

they were quick enough to activate Ain't Misbehavin' to freeze whoever their opponent was, assuming someone who made it this far would be playing for keeps - but at the blindness their tail droops, staying perfectly still. ]

Just fucking give up, whoever you are! I've got you and I will make us both sit right here until time's up if you don't turn the lights back on!

Hallucinations - Amaranth, cw plant horror, rotting

[idolpro]

You walk across a bed of red flowers, both hands holding onto two of your own children, your heart filled with so much love. On one hand you have Persephone and the other hand, Lucifel, both helping you remember the responsibility that you hold not only as a mother, but a member of your unit.

The smell of the flowers are rotten. Ah, they are not flowers, are they? They are the scattered body parts of those you loved. They are the rest of your children. The one you had to sacrifice to protect the two in your hands because in this world, you cannot protect them all..

You have to love some more than others.

Ah right. You caused this, and you have no guilt in your heart because it was the right thing to do. [was it?]

Through the rotted corpses, plants come crawling up your legs and all over your body, thorns piercing your skin until you are bleeding everywhere. The children in your hands became white lilies in your hands, stained with your blood and you look up at the empty sky to watch flower petals falling all around you.

One of your children pierces your stomach with a naginata, and you stand there thinking, “this is justice.”

Re: Hallucinations - Amaranth, cw plant horror, rotting

[idolpro]

[The hallucination was real, it felt so real, and the sensations are hard to lose.

But you do not have any notable leftover status effects.]

Hallucinations - Ruby Sour (for ooc fun only), cw: jaw, skin, peeling

[nohalation]

You watch the boys fight in front of you and you can’t help but feel the smile creep across your face. After all, it’s in your nature. There’s no point in fighting what is simply nature! The moon shines above you. You know that the goddess above is watching you, and you know they are disappointed in you. As you watch one of the boys crack the jaw of another, blood spewing out of their mouth, you laugh. It’s fun! It’s fun!

It’s fun! It’s fun…

And once they are all dead, you’re alone again. You summon forth more to fight in front of you, but just as quickly, they perish and all that’s left are the dead corpses.

How could they have left you like this? How could they have not known how upset you would have been if they died?!

The more anger you get, the more scales start to form. Who are you? You peel at the scales, one by one, trying to stop them from forming. The soft skin underneath starts to bleed. This isn’t you, is it? Are you tricking them? No, you’re telling the truth! You clench your jaw tight, not even realizing that you are clenching it until it cracks, just like the boy whose jaw broke apart from their skull.

You loved [hated] them [yourself].

You sit there alone on your throne, bleeding, skin raw. The moon continues to watch with her disappointed gaze.

Yvette vs Pink

[idolpro]

Re: Yvette vs Pink

[worldlyafflictions]

[Opening as Speedsters do. With speed. Already moving to slap his hand over the button.]

Re: Yvette vs Pink

[tradesecret]

[ Using puppetry to freeze him dead in his tracks ]

Not today.

Hallucinations - Yvette (for fun ooc viewing only) cw: strings

[nohalation]

You sit in your throne, a bouquet of Irises in your hands. This belongs to you. They were once a symbol of a memory of someone you once knew, but now it is a symbol of who you’ve become. The violets you once placed in your hair have dried out until they became unrecognizable.

You sit and watch as they bring out each one of your friends and execute them in front of your eyes. After all, you know what you are: a doll that doesn’t have a personality, a doll that doesn’t have an identity. They give you one when they feel like playing pretend, and it reminds you of the times you played pretend, too. The world of Imeeji is in front of you. You could pretend there, you could pretend that you were someone that mattered.

But even your unit didn’t care for you in the end. They cared for themselves, you knew that. And yet it still hurt when they gave you up back to your previous employer.

You hate them, but you don’t blame them. You watch your friends die one by one. After all, you can blame your old unit for everything, but this was your fault. You’re the one who told your employer everything that the information team worked hard on. The scent of the Iris flower rises to your nose and you feel your body stiffen until you can’t even move your lungs anymore. You become like porcelain, strings attached through your fingers, through your toes, through your neck.

After all, you know what you are: a doll that doesn’t have a personality, a doll that doesn’t have an identity, a doll that doesn’t have a soul.

Pink

[nohalation]

The summer is hot, cloying warm around you, and the cicadas chirp in a deafening chorus, hidden in the trees. From where you lay, they might as well be miles away—

You lay in a shallow pit, dug into the peaty, soft earth of the forest floor, limbs weighted down by stones. This is your punishment—if you cannot bring yourself to forsake your selfish ways, your unwillingness to speak honestly and earnestly, then you will learn discipline this way.
Something slithers over your skin, rough textured skin over your arm—a snake. And then another—no, the pit is filled with snakes, writhing around you, wreathing your head, covering you. The heat of the sun and the warm summer's day becomes unbearable, and your skin feels like it's burning, like your flesh will be seared away. When the snakes start to cover your face, it's almost a relief—until one pushes its head into your open mouth, slithering down, down your throat. Followed by another, and another, and—

You can't breathe. The sun is so hot and you can't breathe—there's no escape from above or from within, no place for you to hide. You try to call for help, but there's no breath to be had, and it only comes out as a hiss—a snake's hiss, for you tongue has been replaced by a narrow forked one.

Darkness crowds the edges of your vision, but it takes far, far, far too long for it to close in entirely.