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)
trusthell2016-04-09 12:04 pm
kingmakereffect) wrote in trusthell2016-04-09 12:04 pm
Take Responsibility.
| And once the allotted time for investigating comes to a close, those elevator doors at the end of the first-floor corridor open up; the ride down is fast, smooth, and understandably tense as far as atmosphere goes. You're down to less than half of your original number. The doors slide open and the podium circle comes into view, standing stark against the black-walled courtroom and encircling that pit in the center; Misa and Aqua have joined the ranks of the deceased, photographs in greyscale watching the proceedings from their podiums draped in black. Of course and as always, the deceased aren't the only ones watching; the Kingmaker will make his presence known once everyone has settled at their podium, his voice sounding out through the room for all to hear. "Resilient has been taken from you. Maybe this time the guilty party will actually succeed at fulfilling Rule Seven, seeing as this is the sixth try and all. Whether they manage it is up to the rest of you." Thirteen Survivors remain. However many will be down by the end of the day is up to you. |
ACCOUNTABILITY.
As usual, there was no sound accompanying his absence; there was no indication that there was a fight or any sort of resistance, he was just...there, and now he wasn't, and as expected, eventually the wall slides open underneath Podium 13.
There's no wariness to his stance when Mettaton steps out into the center of the circle; he seems to know what to expect by now, and he doesn't seem in the mood to complicate things. He just moves toward the center, and he turns to face his own podium (because she'd been right next to him in that circle and that's where she'll be coming from but he can't quite bring himself to face her head-on) and he simply waits for her.
And when Aqua steps out from beneath Podium 15, her expression is oddly blank, if a little severe; she's clutching a bladed contraption in her hand, wielding it like one would a sword, a spiked metal structure colored in blue and black and silver.
She doesn't charge him at first; she does him the respect of stopping several paces away, of bowing a little (but not deep enough to expose the back of her neck), and while he doesn't return the gesture there is a definite incline of his head in acknowledgement before she raises the Keyblade and draws it to her side, a sweeping gesture that's both a challenge and an invitation.
He accepts.
Their fighting styles are similar, in a way – it's more like dancing than an actual battle, a surprising amount of grace behind moves that are, without a doubt, going to be fatal the second they land properly; he's able to avoid her swings well enough, and she isn't letting him sweep her legs out from under her or slam one of his boots into her side, and it isn't until he aims high and actually tries to catch her in the head that she blocks him, catches him by that ankle she helped him fix in the music room, and twists hard enough to drop him on his back on the ground.
And once she's done that, she raises that Keyblade high.]
Goodnight, Bombastic.
[The Kingmaker's voice rings out a bit as the blade slams down into that heart-shaped panel at his waist, smashing straight into it in a burst of light and sparks; despite the clear killing intent behind the strike, however, he doesn't die immediately.
His hands find the long, flat section of it just above the head, his back arching a bit as he does so; it takes him a long several seconds of strange, vague convulsing before he eventually goes slack, all of his circuits suddenly and abruptly powering down at once, the vague glow he tended to give off and the light in his visible eye going dark.
And that, for the time being, is all, as the lights come back up over the courtroom proper.]
no subject
Bruce watches it all, seeing Mettaton's final moments - his last 'show', as it were. He remembers vaguely Mettaton telling him never to try and fix him when he's broken and--well. Bruce supposes he can easily honor that.
When the light come back Bruce stares into the pit for a while more, bit eventually he moves - taking Misa and Aqua's portraits with him as they all leave this room and head back up.
Only twelve of them left now.
The knowledge burns deeper than it never has before.]
no subject
Regrets not sparring with him earlier, thinking she had time in a stupid place like this.
Aqua's odd weapon -- that must be the Keyblade she talked about -- smashing into the panel gets her to flinch though, thinking how warm it'd been before and now it was shattered as it must be, but the few seconds he doesn't die immediately is almost the worst. Like he hadn't wanted to -- well, who does, really -- and Sigrun finds purchase in her podium so she doesn't crumple as easily as she wants to.
And-- she screams in frustration, honestly, slamming her fist on the stupid screen. No words, just... that.]
no subject
But he doesn't seem like he's going to go anywhere unless told off, either.]
no subject
-- Go. Don't worry about me, I just-- I need a minute, and I'll be there with you guys, just-- go.
no subject
no subject
Cherryblod has less compulsions about suddenly hugging her - or perhaps he just needs it badly enough himself not to ask first.]
no subject
... He needs it more than she does, so she'll be fine with it, and tell her she's not crying--]
no subject
He's livid, right now, because Sigrun—their brave and kind and noble leader—is so hurt over this. Someone who tries her best, who holds to high standards and "no mistakes" and every week, he's sure, is another mistake thrown in her face because it's one more person she couldn't protect or be a proper leader to.
...he's squeezing as hard as he can. ]
no subject
-- Okay, okay, okay! That's enough, holy shit guys, I'm not-- it's fine!
[Totally fine, can you guys not.]
no subject
All he can do... is watch her in shocked silence. He'll stay here for a little while longer. In case anything worse happens today.]
I'm sorry, Sigrun.
no subject
Perfectly okay. Let her just. Push her hair back and wave her hand.]
It's-- fine. It's whatever, actually, don't worry. He... chose it himself, he knew the risks and... stuff.
[... Bet he didn't fucking expect to feel the way he did though.]
So. Let's... [...] Let's go celebrate the living. Like usual. And stuff.
no subject
He's... not going to say anymore, but, alight. She's getting a pat on the shoulder. Speedwagon hugs aren't what she needs on top of that.]
Right, he did.
[Certainly a glamorous death. A Death by Glamour.]
We'll throw something together, we often do.