[happy for the hammer and hustle but wow are you guys okay
Lavi still has his arrows in him but that doesn't matter, he's also still holding ka-ren's nameplate. his only weapon. he'll follow behind Rondo towards the grandfather clock, with Mathis in tow, looking around in paranoia for any enraged ka-rens]
[as you run, you can hear the debtors in the hallway talking to themselves. cloud mumbles something that sounds like they're eating me from the inside, rats, they're - as you stumble past him. you hear both gale and karlach, curled in on themselves, mumbling burning, sizzling, do you feel it - don't come too close as you race by. they're fine, though, don't worry about them. it's not much different than the rest of the debtors up and down the hallway. you imagine if you could see aerith and kanda they'd be whispering about rats too, or poison, or bugs.
anyway, your attention is caught by... hope! she is here! she claps her hands excitedly when you stop.]
Oh, you look positively wretched. Perfect! The Master of the House is on his way! Not perfect! You stole it? You stole it IN THIS HOUSE THIEVES ARE MELTED LIKE BUTTER AND SPREAD ON TOAST shhhhh, I'm doing it again, shhh...
[ok]
I am through this door. A horrid place where pleasure is pain and pain is pleasure and hope cannot live at all...
[but - the door is open! you can go through. in fact, hope insists that you go through because you are hit with a wind, and tossed right into a big, open room. it's dark, though, you can't quite see what's inside, save for the long red glowing chains at the back of the wall. the door slams behind you.]
[ well that's not good!!! inventory is just the greataxe and some new trauma.
for not the first time, rondo desperately, desperately wishes he had his sacred flame. not just because it's fucking dark in here, but because of the familiarity - as he gets his bearings, he rolls to his feet almost immediately, gripping the axe with both hands, more like a sword than an axe, and looks around.
[ No response. Only the soft rattling of chain. And heat. You can feel heat. Enough you make you sweat beneath the ragged clothes, and inch under the skin as your vision starts to swim.
You can't see the others, until-- Movement? Something is approaching.
Or, someone, rather.
They look ... run down. Dressed in rags and tired, but steadfast. Their hands tighten around the grip of their, wielding it more like a sword than the axe that it is. ]
well, listen. the heat is fine. the heat is familiar. the heat is the sacred flame, the trial he undertook, and even if it melts down the back of his neck, rondo presses forward. walk with the flame, right? he can't stop here. he has to get back to the others.
however. staring at himself is - surprising? he falters. ]
[ you can walk with the flame, but at some point fire consumes. It is an ever hungry thing. Insistent. Impossible to satisfy. One day it will run out of things to burn.
a mirror, indeed. self-same. But unlike you, Rondo, your mirror doesn't hesitate. When he presses forward, the mirror-self knows its duty. It cannot let you simply walk past and brings the axe down in a brutal swing at Rondo's midsection, trying to take his center of balance off.
well. rondo's at least prepared for this. sazantos never gave him a second of quarter. no one ever does. he asks for it in spars - it's why he likes sparring with kanda, because he's intense, the same way sazantos is. it's what's made him strong. like the burning of the flame in his heart did too, even if it's not there right now. rondo is usually ready for the surprise attack, and his battle instincts take over in a second.
with both hands, he brings the axe up to block - the weapon is heavy, but fisteralda is too, and he grunts, immediately planting his foot and shoving his weight forward to deflect the strike and push back with one of his own. no hesitation. just like he's always learned. ] Hah!
[well, here's the thing. it may not be his own, but one of the memories composing mathis claude's patchwork history is this: being small and alone, left shut away in the dark, sobbing in fear. he freezes, at first, when he's plunged into darkness, clutching the staff he has with him. he grabs for the hand he had been holding, just before, but--
it's not there.]
Lavi...? Ashlyn? Rondo-
[...he's alone. it's dark and he's here alone and-
please, i'll be good, i'll be a good boy so please let me out...
-they left him. they don't want to put up with him. (who didn't? what did they look like-- he tries to remember and only recalls the faces of the three who should have been here. they've left him and it's his fault.)]
Please-- please, are you here-- I- I'm sorry, please, come back-!
[there's a long pause as they just look at each other, and then...
the copy bites his lip. his eyes focus in and out once, twice. it's like a switch flips, almost - he lifts the staff, and points it in mathis's direction - and a knife made of ice shoots out of the tip, aimed right for the real one. this is just a lead up, though, as the copy turns and runs to go hide in the dark.]
[ stupid hope yelling off and on. stupid door slamming.
ashlyn grips the knife in her hand as a precaution, ready to swing if she needs to. she looks around the room for anything else of note, and then she stops to listen, trying to see if she can hear the others.
but i can guess that she won't be able to... so she'll head towards those chains to inspect them. ]
she's accepted the illusions of friends and the crazy violent traps, but this is truly something she is not prepared for. UHHHHHHHHH she just stares at her copy...?
she's staying in a defensive stance, but not making any sudden movements, yet. ]
[well, her copy doesn't hesitate! her copy says it is time to die.
immediately her copy runs forward and slides to her knees, trying to dig her knife into ashlyn's stomach. just really going for it straight up, no hesitation. at least ash will figure out very quickly that this is kill or be killed.]
[imagining the frantic weapons hand-off between rondo and lavi is destroying me
but Lavi takes the hammer and barely manages to get a grip on it before the wind picks him up and then they're all flying, he lands hard, driving an arrow deeper into his leg, and he gasps out -- because he can't see anyone else here besides him, in fact he can't see at all? it's dark in here?]
...Shit. Fuck!
[he'd punch the ground but he's holding the hammer and a nameplate, and also wearing.... Boots. that's it. he pulls himself up to standing, holding this hot hammer, and tries to take another measure of his surroundings --]
[ The curse echoes out all around the room, but there's no response except the soft shifting of chains, and the reverberation of your own voice out into the stillness.
And then, bootsteps. Against the ground. From the shadows, a face.
He levels his one-eyed gaze with yours, and adjusts the hold he has on the nameplate and the hammer. crouching as if ready to spring. ]
[Lavi freezes, the shock lancing through his spine -- enough that he almost doubts what he's seeing -- but no, it's his face. again. it's him. again.]
You've got to be -- [he swears, and he wants to keep swearing, because the irony of doing this all over again after the last time is -- well, it's something.
last time, he attacked -- but it amounted to nothing. all he could do was get swept up in the rhythm, made to play audience to someone else's game. so what about this time? is it the same set of rules?
he throws the nameplate as hard as he can at the other Lavi's face. DIE.]
[ yes! die, die, DIE that's what you're going to have to do to get out of here, Bookman Jr.
It's wearing his face and wielding his weapons and knows exactly how to hit him where it will hurt. One of you is going to die here. The Mirror-self takes the hit on the head with a sickening crunch, but it grimaces and clicks its heels together and then ... vanishes into thin air.
and reappears right behind Lavi, bringing the nameplate down against the back of his head. ]
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sorry he just had a bit of a time in there. he's being hauled behind lavi, so he's going after rondo if lavi is!]
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she's sticking with rondo now since it seems like lavi's got mathis. let's investigate that voice. ]
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Lavi still has his arrows in him but that doesn't matter, he's also still holding ka-ren's nameplate. his only weapon. he'll follow behind Rondo towards the grandfather clock, with Mathis in tow, looking around in paranoia for any enraged ka-rens]
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anyway, your attention is caught by... hope! she is here! she claps her hands excitedly when you stop.]
Oh, you look positively wretched. Perfect! The Master of the House is on his way! Not perfect! You stole it? You stole it IN THIS HOUSE THIEVES ARE MELTED LIKE BUTTER AND SPREAD ON TOAST shhhhh, I'm doing it again, shhh...
[ok]
I am through this door. A horrid place where pleasure is pain and pain is pleasure and hope cannot live at all...
[but - the door is open! you can go through. in fact, hope insists that you go through because you are hit with a wind, and tossed right into a big, open room. it's dark, though, you can't quite see what's inside, save for the long red glowing chains at the back of the wall. the door slams behind you.]
RONDO
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for not the first time, rondo desperately, desperately wishes he had his sacred flame. not just because it's fucking dark in here, but because of the familiarity - as he gets his bearings, he rolls to his feet almost immediately, gripping the axe with both hands, more like a sword than an axe, and looks around.
pitch black. ]
Miss Ashlyn? Mathis? Lavi?
[ immediately just on guard. ]
[ where did everyone go. ]
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You can't see the others, until-- Movement? Something is approaching.
Or, someone, rather.
They look ... run down. Dressed in rags and tired, but steadfast. Their hands tighten around the grip of their, wielding it more like a sword than the axe that it is. ]
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well, listen. the heat is fine. the heat is familiar. the heat is the sacred flame, the trial he undertook, and even if it melts down the back of his neck, rondo presses forward. walk with the flame, right? he can't stop here. he has to get back to the others.
however. staring at himself is - surprising? he falters. ]
A mirror?
[ like a dog startled by its own reflection.... ]
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a mirror, indeed. self-same. But unlike you, Rondo, your mirror doesn't hesitate. When he presses forward, the mirror-self knows its duty. It cannot let you simply walk past and brings the axe down in a brutal swing at Rondo's midsection, trying to take his center of balance off.
Two rodents enter, one rodent leaves! ]
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well. rondo's at least prepared for this. sazantos never gave him a second of quarter. no one ever does. he asks for it in spars - it's why he likes sparring with kanda, because he's intense, the same way sazantos is. it's what's made him strong. like the burning of the flame in his heart did too, even if it's not there right now. rondo is usually ready for the surprise attack, and his battle instincts take over in a second.
with both hands, he brings the axe up to block - the weapon is heavy, but fisteralda is too, and he grunts, immediately planting his foot and shoving his weight forward to deflect the strike and push back with one of his own. no hesitation. just like he's always learned. ] Hah!
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MATHIS
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it's not there.]
Lavi...? Ashlyn? Rondo-
[...he's alone. it's dark and he's here alone and-
please, i'll be good, i'll be a good boy so please let me out...
-they left him. they don't want to put up with him. (who didn't? what did they look like-- he tries to remember and only recalls the faces of the three who should have been here. they've left him and it's his fault.)]
Please-- please, are you here-- I- I'm sorry, please, come back-!
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anyway. he's got his staff. he's in the dark, for a long moment. and then - he can hear someone let out a little whimpery noise in the distance.
when his vision focuses, he sees --
well. him. clutching his staff, staring at him with a wide eyed look. terrified, but waiting. ready.]
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[himself-?
what's happening. he didn't make that sound, this isn't a mirror, but then why...
mathis doesn't make a move, watching the other in wary confusion.]
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the copy bites his lip. his eyes focus in and out once, twice. it's like a switch flips, almost - he lifts the staff, and points it in mathis's direction - and a knife made of ice shoots out of the tip, aimed right for the real one. this is just a lead up, though, as the copy turns and runs to go hide in the dark.]
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ASHLYN
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ashlyn grips the knife in her hand as a precaution, ready to swing if she needs to. she looks around the room for anything else of note, and then she stops to listen, trying to see if she can hear the others.
but i can guess that she won't be able to... so she'll head towards those chains to inspect them. ]
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she can start moving in that direction, but she gets stopped short almost immediately. in front of her is --
well. you know. she's holding onto her ear with one hand, a knife in the other. she scowls, brandishing the knife.]
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she's accepted the illusions of friends and the crazy violent traps, but this is truly something she is not prepared for. UHHHHHHHHH she just stares at her copy...?
she's staying in a defensive stance, but not making any sudden movements, yet. ]
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immediately her copy runs forward and slides to her knees, trying to dig her knife into ashlyn's stomach. just really going for it straight up, no hesitation. at least ash will figure out very quickly that this is kill or be killed.]
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LAVI
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but Lavi takes the hammer and barely manages to get a grip on it before the wind picks him up and then they're all flying, he lands hard, driving an arrow deeper into his leg, and he gasps out -- because he can't see anyone else here besides him, in fact he can't see at all? it's dark in here?]
...Shit. Fuck!
[he'd punch the ground but he's holding the hammer and a nameplate, and also wearing.... Boots. that's it. he pulls himself up to standing, holding this hot hammer, and tries to take another measure of his surroundings --]
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And then, bootsteps. Against the ground. From the shadows, a face.
He levels his one-eyed gaze with yours, and adjusts the hold he has on the nameplate and the hammer. crouching as if ready to spring. ]
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You've got to be -- [he swears, and he wants to keep swearing, because the irony of doing this all over again after the last time is -- well, it's something.
last time, he attacked -- but it amounted to nothing. all he could do was get swept up in the rhythm, made to play audience to someone else's game. so what about this time? is it the same set of rules?
he throws the nameplate as hard as he can at the other Lavi's face. DIE.]
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It's wearing his face and wielding his weapons and knows exactly how to hit him where it will hurt. One of you is going to die here. The Mirror-self takes the hit on the head with a sickening crunch, but it grimaces and clicks its heels together and then ... vanishes into thin air.
and reappears right behind Lavi, bringing the nameplate down against the back of his head. ]
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