Event Log: Assassin

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone!
What: The Assassin event
Where: Throughout the city
When: April 15th-23rd
Warnings: Inevitable character death, potential horror and gore and unpleasantness. Please remember to tag for warnings in the header if it things get too bad!

The morning of April 15th in Hadriel is cheerful, with artificial light streaming through your window. Your blankets are warm, jabberjays are shrieking, and you're probably going to experience a murder attempt today.

Maybe it'll be from a stranger, maybe it'll be from a friend, but the bottom line is that everybody is after somebody and nobody is safe (...okay, twelve people are safe, but that's beside the point). Time will only tell when you'll be overcome by that murderous rage and try to kill someone else. The best thing you can probably do at this point is stay calm, keep your head high, and try not to die for the next eight days.

Helpfully, Rage will have restocked her armory for the event, for those of you have yet to arm themselves. Additionally, for a limited time only, the armory will be stocked with bear traps, tripwire (in both 'general wire' and 'barbed wire' flavor), and voice recorders. Use all of them, use none of them, just get on out there and kill each other!

Oh, and one last thing...

► This log covers April 15th-23rd.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► Did your assassin catch up to you? Please remember to hit up our death post!

Comments

[fleshing]

She pins him before he entirely knows what's going on, fingers crunching painfully beneath the impact of a hard strike. Hurts. Hurts. Hurts. All of it does. It should. Come on, make him bleed. He knows what he is.

A weak little chuckle trails out from beneath the mask as his single eye peers woozily up at her.

"Make it hurt more," he whispers, desperate and pleading. "Bleed me out, wring me dry."

There's blood snaking down her front, down his, sticky crimson mixing together in delicious harmony, gloving him in beautiful red. He twitches, wanting to rise, but unable to for the remaining electricity pulsing through him.

"Go - go on!" Krieg abruptly snarls, lurching again as he tries to get up, to no avail. "Carve me up! You don't get to leave until you finish what's on your plate!"

[watashinonamaewa]

"Shut up!" She finally yells down at him.

She doesn't want to stay. She wants to run. Her eyes shut tight, forcing her body to move. It's not listening; Her legs aren't moving. They stay locked in place over him. Then a knee buckles. A quick decision makes her fist curl up around the baton and slam it against his face again.

"Shut." Again, but weaker.

"Up!" And again. Even weaker.

She reels back for another go when the baton slips from her fingers. Confused, she reaches to pick it up only to fall the short way onto the ground beside him.

You have to get up. That voice. He'll kill you. You have to run.

Her body is pins and needles. But at least the bleeding is slowing down. She really should just stay still and rest..

[fleshing]

Thud. Yes. It slams into his face, cracking over his jaw, dislodging his mask. One side of his mouth is exposed, creaking upward in a ragged, delirious grin. Glorious dark red is leaking out from his nose, and he can taste the iron tang of it wetting his mouth, his throat.

"Fork and knife, knife and fork," he says in droning singsong, "cut me up like a side of pork."

Everything's quiet now. He hates quiet. Quiet means his thoughts meander, quiet means the voice comes back, quiet means he starts thinking about what happened to him, the swell of muscles he shouldn't have. Where's she going? Where's she gone? Finish the job, girl, finish the job!

Krieg tries gamely to rise again, but only succeeds in rolling onto his side. She really smacked up his brain. Feels all leaky inside his skull-head. Everything's cloudy. Why didn't she finish it?

"Knife...'n fork," he mumbles.

[watashinonamaewa]

As he turns, it probably isn't shocking to see that she's got the baton back in her hand. ba dum tss

"Shut... up."

She thrusts it forward onto him. He seems rattled already so this should give her enough time to—

Damn. Everything is going dark. She should just close her eyes.

Instead she's staring at his eye and skewed mask. Who is he anyway?

[fleshing]

Currently, he's about to follow Cibo's lead and lose consciousness entirely, because she packs a hell of a punch and he might be a tough customer, but evidently so's she.

The baton connects one last time, and it's enough.

She sang us such a pretty song. Losing it all, trickling out drop by drop.

His visible eye drifts shut. Just a catnap. Quick, and then he'll get back to the killing.

Just a quick one.

[watashinonamaewa]

You know. That doesn't look like a half-bad idea. Her head rests gently on the ground as a numbness takes over.

She closes her eyes, breathing easy. Only for a few minutes though. Then she has to leave.