It's... quiet. The morning is quiet and dull and even the animals rustling in the jungle or skittering on the beach seem a bit at a loss for what to do. The beach as a whole seems to be waiting. It'll soon be obvious what-for.
At this point, the Chiefs have pretty much given up on the whole pit roasting aesthetic and just let whoever's gonna die do their own thing. But they'll show up at the appointed time and Hal glances over at the few stray seagulls perched on trees, watching with beady, greedy eyes before looking to the huts. Then he calls out, louder than naturally possible,
"Execution time, folks! Magilou and Bellamy have been chosen as executioners. Come on down and watch."
And then, as indifferent as ever, he steps to the side and waits.
[Magilou's holding a different sort of item in her hand today: a white mask, with black framing the eyes. ya'll know what it is. she's idly running her thumb around the edges, gaze leveling on Pal, although it's completely empty and neutral. she's shut down again. she had to]
Heeey, can't I get Hal's help instead? He's my favorite out of the two of you.
["favorite." she uses that word very loosely]
Nothing today! We've got it all taken care of. You won't be a part of this.
[and, indeed, strapped to her bookskirt is a knife. not the one she used for Laphicet's execution, though-- the one she used for Keith's. huh. didn't she say she got rid of that?? weird!!]
[he doesn't give either hal or pal the time of day when he steps up; fuck both of them.
but unlike last night, when his head was dipped low and akira was completely despairing amid his confession, his head is held high. for the first time, he seems to be devoid of those large, thick-rimmed glasses that often obscured his gaze and kept people from reading his true feelings. not today.
when he walks past magilou, he's careful to let his hand brush against hers; an intentional gesture, to remind them both that even if they have to close off a lot to achieve this—they're both still human and what they feel right now is very real. it's fine. it's almost over. they're fine. when he reaches his stopping point, akira turns to face magilou—and anyone else watching.
in his eyes burns a quiet fire. this is akira. resolved. willing to face his fate and atone for the sins he's committed. this is not just akira kurusu, the mild-mannered high school student with an unjust criminal record. this is joker, the leader of the phantom thieves of hearts.
and it's time to get his comeuppance for what happened. so he'll stand there, shoulders squared, gaze fixed—though it does shift to magilou and soften just a little.]
Can I charm you into getting some last words in?
[...ha.
he has to. he has to say it like that, because of course he does.]
Charm doesn't work on me, remember? [lol] Use your guts stat instead; I much prefer it.
[she jokes, but she really does. after all, wasn't it always that same quiet inferno in his eyes that drew her towards him? that will to fight, to stand tall, to hold his head up high despite everything, to weaponize his anger and make something of it? that quiet resolve that first reminded her of Velvet, but now took on a form very unique to him, and made her believe he could burn the entire world down and rebuild it from scratch if he wanted to]
[she's glad he's wearing it now, despite everything. it's a great look on him]
[. . . gross]
[she tilts her chin up and cants her head to the side. the brush of his hand against hers didn't go unnoticed, but she hadn't reacted. and even now, everything about her demeanor is casual and nonchalant. she doesn't care]
Better start talking though, before our Chiefs get bored.
[he expects it. he knows magilou well enough to know that the second they stepped foot outside of that hut, her heart would close off enough that she could do this without shattering. he's already seen this in her, after all. and while that's sad in a sense—he understands it. he thinks no less of magilou for that sentiment and allows her to approach this in the way she needs to, for both their sakes.]
Mm.
[gaze hardening again, he looks out to the remaining faces and speaks with resolve. it's not wallowing or full of pity, nor is it commanding. it's merely someone who has something to say. even though he knows this farce, this game will end just a few minutes after he does—they're things that need to be said.]
I don't look for forgiveness. I'm ready to atone for the crimes I've committed and answer to the pain I've caused everyone, both dead and alive.
[he closes his eyes for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath before steeling himself again. no matter how temporary it may be, looking death in the eye is pretty terrifying.]
But just know that every bond is precious. Not just between me and everyone I spoke to, but all of you, for each other. Remember that we all cared. That we all wanted the best outcome, even though we had to cause each other pain, and suffer through lies, betrayals and deaths to get there.
...We'll be okay. All of us. Treasure the efforts you put forth, the friendships you've made—because those feelings will outlive the pain.
[well. sometimes he has to be a protagonist that comes from a game where the strength of bonds matters, right?
with another breath, he looks back to magilou, and more quietly:]
I have one last thing to say to you, too. Come a little closer. [or if she refuses, he'll step closer to her, but he'd prefer she grant this last request of his, because what he has to say is just as important.]
[. . . guh. stupid protagonists!1 she hates how this island has endeared her to this sort of thing now. she's surrounded by way too many do-gooders who preach the importance of bonds and trust. it's softened her heart way too much for her liking]
[then again. . . maybe that isn't all bad. after all, they wouldn't be where they are now if she hadn't let down her walls just a little bit]
[she listens to Akira's speech dispassionately, arms folded, mask still in hand. there's a brief moment of hesitation when he addresses her, brows raising in curiosity, but. . . in the end, he doesn't have to go to Magilou. she steps forward willingly, feet moving without permission from her brain. her arms fall to her side, free hand touching the knife that waits for its time to shine]
Aw, I get my own little message? Way to make me feel special, Trickster. ☆
but he's grateful that magilou makes this just a bit easier on him by stepping closer.]
Yeah, well. Some things are too important to announce to the other ten people hanging around.
[he knows what comes next, after all. and he can largely predict how she's going to react to what he's going to say to her—so he's already braced himself for that outcome; he probably will deserve what's coming to him in that respect.
so akira will act swiftly, closing the gap between them. he leans over to her height, so their faces are very close. it might even look like a kiss from the right angle, but you know, it's not. instead, he shifts so his mouth is close to magilou's ear, and he whispers his final words to her.
there's nothing else to say, after all. just that. there won't be any words to share, no platitudes or quips, no outdated pop culture references or memetic phrases. death is all that awaits him now, so he'll just take the faintest step back, offering her a knowing gaze and waiting for his end.]
[her fingers tighten around the handle of her knife, knuckles white, and for the first time that morning her detached expression begins to crumble. frustration, irritation, and anger, all directed at him and at his stupid stupid confession. him stupidly getting himself killed at the final hour, when she had tried so hard to protect him]
[and then there's the uncertainty, her hand beginning to tremble as she draws her knife]
[she closes the distance between them again, grabs him roughly by the shoulder, head bowed and unable to meet his gaze. her bangs and the brim of her hat appropriately hide whatever final emotions are present in her gaze]
. . . I can't believe you--
[she's balking, and if she doesn't do this fast, then. . .]
[she shoves at his shoulder, draws her weapon up, and promptly slips the blade right between his ribs, and through his heart, trying her best to ignore the way that her breath hitches in her throat]
[maybe it's for the better that she doesn't meet his gaze, or she'll see the way his expression shifted into a bittersweet sadness, how his eyes glazed over despite there being no trace of any actual tears this time.
he was as ready as he was ever going to be.
he manages one last endeared chuckle at her reaction—as expected—before he feels the knife pierce through his chest. his mind races in those moments of consciousness. of his life back home, his friends and family, his confidants... the people he met on this island, and magilou, of course. there's no coherent thought, just the overwhelming pain of the blade cutting through his heart and the imagery of all the people he holds so dear to him.
it's quick, though.
she makes it merciful with her aim, and it's not long before he goes completely weak; his consciousness fades amid that blinding pain, and his last truly conscious thought as the light fades from his eyes is "fall backwards, don't crush her," because he owes magilou at least that much. but that's it. the life drains from him completely then, and though his eyes are peaceful and his lips remain curved in a faint smile....
[she's small. way too small to support his weight had he slumped forward, so the fact that he goes backwards is a good thing. but even so, she releases the knife in his chest and snatches at his wrist to catch him so he doesn't collapse. using what little strength she has (the woes of being a mage), she lowers him to the ground, before gently placing his arm at his side and kneeling right next to him]
[. . .]
[her expression is blank now, but she's holding onto the mask with both hands, resting it gently in her lap. she ignores the dark stains of blood that coat the fingers of the hand that handled the knife, though she tries her best not to get that all over the mask, too. it wouldn't be polite to paint it red now]
. . . well.
[her voice is even. almost a monotone]
I suppose this means it's time for the both of us to wake up.
[He's had enough time to come to terms with this and even though his approach is slow it's hardly cautious. He keeps his head up and eyes fixed on Hal before he stops before him. On the other hand:]
Somehow it seems weirdly fitting you're my executioner. [There's a short pause as he thinks if anything needs to be said, maybe a glance back before he focuses again.] What'll it be...?
I've got nothing. Everything that needed to be said has already been said. So...sure. Just do it. [A pause.] Thanks. [For a quick death, he means. Better than dragging it out. The sooner it's over, the sooner they can execute Vriska and end the game. He's aware he's a layover to the final destination and he's strangely okay with that.] Ready whenever you are.
[ A short nod and he reaches out to ruffle Hiro's hair!
... And that's it. Between one blink and the next, Hiro will be unable to open his eyes and very suddenly feel a sensation of falling and a feeling of darkness. When Hal pulls his hand back, Hiro will slump down into the snow and that will be that.
[ Vriska steps up. She's imperious as ever, tossing her hair over her shoulder and grinning like a shark, her presence and her wild, unbound hair making her seem bigger than she is. ]
Didn't I tell you? I played to win, Hal. Don't forget what you promised me.
[ She gestures loosely with a hand, smile gentling somewhat. ]
[Bellamy steps forward, his face schooled into careful calm. She's being casual about this, and he's going to match her, even as he reaches out to touch her shoulder. If this works—and it should—he's going to see her again in a couple of minutes anyway. This is just a cruel test, and nothing else. Somehow, that doesn't make it much easier.]
Hey. Don't worry. I'll do this the way we talked about.
[ Without a word Vriska stands up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck, shutting her eyes and smiling slightly. ]
I know. Make it as awesome as I deserve, okay?
[ A quick squeeze and she lets go, turning to face whoever still lives. ]
... you know, I was going to give this whole big speech? I've been thinking about it all night. I gave a big dumb speech when all the Sirens first met up, about how we were going to save everyone on this island. It was a great speech and all the other Sirens can shut up about it! But anyway. You know, at this point? It kind of doesn't matter anymore. I always intended to break my promise to tear the game apart, honestly. I wanted to win. As long as that was enough to get us all through this, that was all that mattered! So I lied and cheated and fucked shit up. It's just kind of my thing.
I'm not a good person, or a hero. But we won. We're finally done with this fucked up stupid pointless game. And that's just kind of that!
[ Vriska pulls her hair back over her shoulders, puffs out a sigh, and nods at Bellamy. ]
Thank you, Bellamy. For everything. I'm ready whenever you are.
[Bellamy listens quietly as she talks, arms crossed. He can't say that revelation is surprising to him. She'd told him she'd do anything to win, after all, but he still sighs. She might be ready, but he's not, not yet. He crouches down to hug her again, much more tightly than the one she'd given him, one hand smoothing down her hair. If Vriska thinks he's going to let her die thinking she's a terrible person, she's dead wrong.]
Screw what anyone else thinks, alright? You saved our asses. I wouldn't have figured this out without you, and then I would have been worthless to Lucina. You did what you had to do.
[ Oh, god, why, with the hugging. Vriska's expression screws up, but thankfully she gets to hide her face in his shoulder. The tears resurface immediately, her bravado falling to pieces around her, but she desperately tries to keep her voice steady when she responds. ]
I own my crimes, Bellamy. I tortured people to death and betrayed friends that trusted me. I don't expect forgiveness for what I've done. I never did, honestly. I know what I am, and what I am is a killer, through and through. Just...
[She's just a kid, is all he can think. Forcing her into this position is just another thing on the long list of awful shit Hal and Pal pulled, and for the millionth time, he wishes he could just shoot them, too.]
You're not, Vriska. You're so much more than that.
[Bellamy gives her one last squeeze before he pulls back, hands still on her shoulders. He knows he's not going to convince her in the next few seconds before they finish this, but he needed to say it anyway. She deserves it.]
[He smiles back, brushing one last tear from her cheek. This is still the worst, but he's proud of her for being brave until the end. He knew she would be.]
I'll see you soon.
[Bellamy finally pulls away fully, pulling the gun from his belt as he steps back. This isn't the way he'd want to do it, not in a million years, but it's what Vriska asked for, and this is the last best thing he can do for her.
He aims for the center of her forehead and pulls the trigger.]
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MAGILOU + AKIRA
What'll it be, kids?
no subject
[Magilou's holding a different sort of item in her hand today: a white mask, with black framing the eyes. ya'll know what it is. she's idly running her thumb around the edges, gaze leveling on Pal, although it's completely empty and neutral. she's shut down again. she had to]
Heeey, can't I get Hal's help instead? He's my favorite out of the two of you.
["favorite." she uses that word very loosely]
Nothing today! We've got it all taken care of. You won't be a part of this.
[and, indeed, strapped to her bookskirt is a knife. not the one she used for Laphicet's execution, though-- the one she used for Keith's. huh. didn't she say she got rid of that?? weird!!]
no subject
but unlike last night, when his head was dipped low and akira was completely despairing amid his confession, his head is held high. for the first time, he seems to be devoid of those large, thick-rimmed glasses that often obscured his gaze and kept people from reading his true feelings. not today.
when he walks past magilou, he's careful to let his hand brush against hers; an intentional gesture, to remind them both that even if they have to close off a lot to achieve this—they're both still human and what they feel right now is very real. it's fine. it's almost over. they're fine. when he reaches his stopping point, akira turns to face magilou—and anyone else watching.
in his eyes burns a quiet fire. this is akira. resolved. willing to face his fate and atone for the sins he's committed. this is not just akira kurusu, the mild-mannered high school student with an unjust criminal record. this is joker, the leader of the phantom thieves of hearts.
and it's time to get his comeuppance for what happened. so he'll stand there, shoulders squared, gaze fixed—though it does shift to magilou and soften just a little.]
Can I charm you into getting some last words in?
[...ha.
he has to. he has to say it like that, because of course he does.]
no subject
Charm doesn't work on me, remember? [lol] Use your guts stat instead; I much prefer it.
[she jokes, but she really does. after all, wasn't it always that same quiet inferno in his eyes that drew her towards him? that will to fight, to stand tall, to hold his head up high despite everything, to weaponize his anger and make something of it? that quiet resolve that first reminded her of Velvet, but now took on a form very unique to him, and made her believe he could burn the entire world down and rebuild it from scratch if he wanted to]
[she's glad he's wearing it now, despite everything. it's a great look on him]
[. . . gross]
[she tilts her chin up and cants her head to the side. the brush of his hand against hers didn't go unnoticed, but she hadn't reacted. and even now, everything about her demeanor is casual and nonchalant. she doesn't care]
Better start talking though, before our Chiefs get bored.
no subject
Mm.
[gaze hardening again, he looks out to the remaining faces and speaks with resolve. it's not wallowing or full of pity, nor is it commanding. it's merely someone who has something to say. even though he knows this farce, this game will end just a few minutes after he does—they're things that need to be said.]
I don't look for forgiveness. I'm ready to atone for the crimes I've committed and answer to the pain I've caused everyone, both dead and alive.
[he closes his eyes for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath before steeling himself again. no matter how temporary it may be, looking death in the eye is pretty terrifying.]
But just know that every bond is precious. Not just between me and everyone I spoke to, but all of you, for each other. Remember that we all cared. That we all wanted the best outcome, even though we had to cause each other pain, and suffer through lies, betrayals and deaths to get there.
...We'll be okay. All of us. Treasure the efforts you put forth, the friendships you've made—because those feelings will outlive the pain.
[well. sometimes he has to be a protagonist that comes from a game where the strength of bonds matters, right?
with another breath, he looks back to magilou, and more quietly:]
I have one last thing to say to you, too. Come a little closer. [or if she refuses, he'll step closer to her, but he'd prefer she grant this last request of his, because what he has to say is just as important.]
no subject
[then again. . . maybe that isn't all bad. after all, they wouldn't be where they are now if she hadn't let down her walls just a little bit]
[she listens to Akira's speech dispassionately, arms folded, mask still in hand. there's a brief moment of hesitation when he addresses her, brows raising in curiosity, but. . . in the end, he doesn't have to go to Magilou. she steps forward willingly, feet moving without permission from her brain. her arms fall to her side, free hand touching the knife that waits for its time to shine]
Aw, I get my own little message? Way to make me feel special, Trickster. ☆
no subject
but he's grateful that magilou makes this just a bit easier on him by stepping closer.]
Yeah, well. Some things are too important to announce to the other ten people hanging around.
[he knows what comes next, after all. and he can largely predict how she's going to react to what he's going to say to her—so he's already braced himself for that outcome; he probably will deserve what's coming to him in that respect.
so akira will act swiftly, closing the gap between them. he leans over to her height, so their faces are very close. it might even look like a kiss from the right angle, but you know, it's not. instead, he shifts so his mouth is close to magilou's ear, and he whispers his final words to her.
there's nothing else to say, after all. just that. there won't be any words to share, no platitudes or quips, no outdated pop culture references or memetic phrases. death is all that awaits him now, so he'll just take the faintest step back, offering her a knowing gaze and waiting for his end.]
1/3
[oh]
no subject
[and then there's the uncertainty, her hand beginning to tremble as she draws her knife]
[she's balking]
no subject
. . . I can't believe you--
[she's balking, and if she doesn't do this fast, then. . .]
[she shoves at his shoulder, draws her weapon up, and promptly slips the blade right between his ribs, and through his heart, trying her best to ignore the way that her breath hitches in her throat]
no subject
he was as ready as he was ever going to be.
he manages one last endeared chuckle at her reaction—as expected—before he feels the knife pierce through his chest. his mind races in those moments of consciousness. of his life back home, his friends and family, his confidants... the people he met on this island, and magilou, of course. there's no coherent thought, just the overwhelming pain of the blade cutting through his heart and the imagery of all the people he holds so dear to him.
it's quick, though.
she makes it merciful with her aim, and it's not long before he goes completely weak; his consciousness fades amid that blinding pain, and his last truly conscious thought as the light fades from his eyes is "fall backwards, don't crush her," because he owes magilou at least that much. but that's it. the life drains from him completely then, and though his eyes are peaceful and his lips remain curved in a faint smile....
akira kurusu is dead.]
no subject
[. . .]
[her expression is blank now, but she's holding onto the mask with both hands, resting it gently in her lap. she ignores the dark stains of blood that coat the fingers of the hand that handled the knife, though she tries her best not to get that all over the mask, too. it wouldn't be polite to paint it red now]
. . . well.
[her voice is even. almost a monotone]
I suppose this means it's time for the both of us to wake up.
HIRO
He just glances over at The Drama™ over there and then looks back to Hiro before beckoning him forward. ]
Hey, kid. I'll make this quick, promise.
[ Hal, why are you doing the execution...! ]
no subject
Somehow it seems weirdly fitting you're my executioner. [There's a short pause as he thinks if anything needs to be said, maybe a glance back before he focuses again.] What'll it be...?
no subject
Don't worry about it. You got anything to say, or should I just do it?
no subject
I've got nothing. Everything that needed to be said has already been said. So...sure. Just do it. [A pause.] Thanks. [For a quick death, he means. Better than dragging it out. The sooner it's over, the sooner they can execute Vriska and end the game. He's aware he's a layover to the final destination and he's strangely okay with that.] Ready whenever you are.
no subject
... And that's it. Between one blink and the next, Hiro will be unable to open his eyes and very suddenly feel a sensation of falling and a feeling of darkness. When Hal pulls his hand back, Hiro will slump down into the snow and that will be that.
Hiro Hamada is dead. ]
BELLAMY + VRISKA
Hey.
[ But then Hal shoves him out of the way and here we are. ]
I don't actually care who any of you voted for and instead, I'm giving Vriska the chance to decide how she wants to go. Let me know your pick, Spidey.
[ He's got favorites, obviously. ]
no subject
Didn't I tell you? I played to win, Hal. Don't forget what you promised me.
[ She gestures loosely with a hand, smile gentling somewhat. ]
It was always going to be Bellamy, anyway.
no subject
Hey. Don't worry. I'll do this the way we talked about.
no subject
I know. Make it as awesome as I deserve, okay?
[ A quick squeeze and she lets go, turning to face whoever still lives. ]
... you know, I was going to give this whole big speech? I've been thinking about it all night. I gave a big dumb speech when all the Sirens first met up, about how we were going to save everyone on this island. It was a great speech and all the other Sirens can shut up about it! But anyway. You know, at this point? It kind of doesn't matter anymore. I always intended to break my promise to tear the game apart, honestly. I wanted to win. As long as that was enough to get us all through this, that was all that mattered! So I lied and cheated and fucked shit up. It's just kind of my thing.
I'm not a good person, or a hero. But we won. We're finally done with this fucked up stupid pointless game. And that's just kind of that!
[ Vriska pulls her hair back over her shoulders, puffs out a sigh, and nods at Bellamy. ]
Thank you, Bellamy. For everything. I'm ready whenever you are.
no subject
Screw what anyone else thinks, alright? You saved our asses. I wouldn't have figured this out without you, and then I would have been worthless to Lucina. You did what you had to do.
no subject
I own my crimes, Bellamy. I tortured people to death and betrayed friends that trusted me. I don't expect forgiveness for what I've done. I never did, honestly. I know what I am, and what I am is a killer, through and through. Just...
[ ... ]
It's fine, [ she breathes out, tired. ]
no subject
You're not, Vriska. You're so much more than that.
[Bellamy gives her one last squeeze before he pulls back, hands still on her shoulders. He knows he's not going to convince her in the next few seconds before they finish this, but he needed to say it anyway. She deserves it.]
Anything else you want to say?
no subject
And then she'll grin at him, a brave and watery attempt at good cheer. ]
Nah. Let's get this over with.
no subject
I'll see you soon.
[Bellamy finally pulls away fully, pulling the gun from his belt as he steps back. This isn't the way he'd want to do it, not in a million years, but it's what Vriska asked for, and this is the last best thing he can do for her.
He aims for the center of her forehead and pulls the trigger.]
no subject
It's quick. It's flashy. Hopefully it looked cool. That's all she wanted.
There's a burst of blue blood, and she crumples to the sand.
Vriska Serket is dead. ]