The Kingmaker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kingmakereffect) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trusthell2016-03-19 12:00 pm
kingmakereffect) wrote in trusthell2016-03-19 12:00 pm
Take Responsibility.
| For the third time, those elevator doors at the end of the first-floor corridor open up at the end of the allotted investigation period; the ride down is, as ever, smooth and quick-moving. You're down by five. When the doors slide open, the podium circle still stands in stark contrast to that now-familiar black void of a courtroom, and once again, it's changed to reflect your losses – Caren and Mion have joined those with podiums draped in black, their framed greyscale profile portraits staring out at the rest of you. (The portrait of Pearl hasn't been removed from her room, but it seems the Kingmaker has replaced it with another; either way, her photograph is in the courtroom along with the rest.) As before, the Kingmaker waits until everyone is settled at their podiums before he speaks; he still isn't visible, but he can clearly be heard, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Capable has been taken from you. I'll confirm one thing for you so no one will waste time asking – the killer wasn't me. Looks like the guilty decided to take a shot at Rule Seven after all – and whether they succeed or not is up to you." Twenty-two Survivors remain. We'll see how many the group has lost at the end of the day. |
ACCOUNTABILITY.
After a moment, though, that stark, bright light illuminates the pit in the center of the room, the white tiled walls glinting sharply; there are no cries or sounds of a struggle, no noise indicating his departure, but once everyone's eyes adjust it's clear that Yato is gone from the circle.
Then the wall beneath podium 25 opens up (and it's so close to Mion's); when Yato comes out he doesn't focus on his surroundings – after all, the pit is empty, and if anything has been shown over the course of the last two executions, he'll have a few seconds before anything happens.
Instead, he looks up, and he smiles at those still standing at their podiums in the circle above, and even if it's a little awkward and strange it's obvious that he's trying. Trying to do what is a little hard to say; perhaps it's an attempt at being comforting. Either way, the expression is accompanied with a slight wave before what must be the sound of the door opening behind him catches his attention.
When Mion steps out, her expression is severe; there's no anger in it, but there's a very intense, focused determination in her features, even if the look in her eyes is a little blank.
But Yato's eyes aren't focused on her face; rather, they're focused on the swords in her hands – long and hiltless, the handling ends wrapped in strips of white fabric.
His eyes remain there as she moves into the pit; she doesn't charge him, she doesn't sprint toward him, she just circles around. Sizing him up, maybe; getting a feel for the situation. For the arena, for her opponent, for the weight of the blades she's holding.
When Yato moves, it's quick; his focus is on her hands – but unfortunately, her focus is on his legs, and she's much faster than she was the last time she faced him. It's fast work, getting his legs out from under him; the leg sweep she snaps him up into is flawless. And no sooner is he on his back on the ground than she's pinning him there, her legs straddling his waist and those blades held high on in her hands.
He looks like he wants to say something; in the end, he just turns his head to the side, looking away from her as those blades come down. And they come down hard, both of them piercing through Yato's body centimeters from one another; she's aimed low on his chest, stabbing through his diaphragm, forcing his body to spasm as blood bubbles up in his mouth – his back arches and for a brief moment he looks up at her before turning his head again, but this time it's to spit out a dark streak of blood across the white tiles of the floor.
Mion just watches him do it, her expression unchanging.
Yato shifts a bit, not quite writhing but clearly trying to do something – push her off, clear his lungs, one or the other – only for Mion to jerk those blades out just as roughly as she'd pushed them in.]
Goodnight, Regaled.
[The Kingmaker's voice can be heard a split second before the swords plunge deep into Yato's chest; she hits his heart this time, hard enough for flecks of blood to hit her in the face, and perhaps the only merciful thing that can be said about it is that Yato goes still immediately. Mion, however, does not; she yanks the blades out roughly and brings them down again and again, her aim shifting a bit as though making absolutely sure he's dead. Lungs, stomach, the diaphragm again, her movements harsh and uncontrolled despite the lack of necessity for it, until finally she stops, blades buried deep in Yato's chest, and she sits back and just looks down at what she's done.
There's still a trail of dark crimson spilling out of his mouth, and it takes a brief moment for the blood to stop pulsing out of the injuries, shining dark against his clothes; Mion just sits there, uncaring about the blood that's spilled onto her jeans and the flecks of it splashed across her face, and she stays that way until the pit darkens and the lights come back to life in the courtroom.]
no subject
...oh.......
.................................holy shit]
...he's already dead--
[why isn't she stopping.
...
why isn't it stopping, because that isn't Mion, just like it wasn't Pearl... right?]
no subject
Sigrun can only press her lips together and pick her things up, tugging back on her jacket once everything's good to go, and... she's actually going to take the sword this time, if only because she noticed earlier the sledgehammer was gone from her podium.
Maybe they can do something with it for Yato's shrine.]
no subject
Goodnight, Regaled.
She wipes a tear out of her eye, now is not the type, but it just keeps going. And going. And going. Her grip on the podium is white knuckled when it finally goes dark.
In complete silence she enters the elevator and leaves.]
no subject
Speed wagon doesn't know. Maybe he can't. This trial has left him visibly exhausted, even if every sickening stab of those blades into Yato's body. If that was really Mion, then would she feel the same way as this one did? This... whatever it is.
He sucks in a breath, and makes for the exit. They could all have a cry about this later, without a tyrant looking over them.]
no subject
Cherryblod had been able to watch the first two executions without flinching.
This one he looks away from before it even begins.]