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

[blameful]

[ whoopsy daisy!

wash misses his mark by less than an inch as york catches his wrist, and instinctively, he lashes out with his free hand, swings up blindly to aim a sharp hit toward his temple. that doesn't go so well: york's in full armor, and instead of knocking him flat on his ass, his arm bounces off his helmet with a loud clang, titanium on titanium. his suit absorbs the impact, but wash reels back anyway, hissing a quiet breath through his teeth, eyes wild, reaching for his pistol in the empty holster at his thigh before he remembers shit, no fucking guns.

in retrospect, maybe temporarily abandoning two out of three of his weapons hadn't been his best idea. whatever. hindsight is 20/20. the city is big enough that wash hadn't considered the possibility of running into another person so soon — and he's still frazzled, besides, his mind torn in a dozen different directions.

get your shit together, wash. she's not the first person you've killed.

won't be the last, either.

( but i didn't even know her. )

his brain catches up with his body moments after he flips the blade in his hand and squares up for another go. he's running high on adrenaline, heart pumping hard under his chest and thinking in numbers and grappling strats. this guy has three inches and twenty-some pounds on him; wash can't let him pin him, can't let this fight move to the ground where he has little to no advantage and a slim chance of walking away unharmed.

right. gotta disable him, then. go for the calves and ankles, drag him to his knees. his brain works on overdrive, spinning through possible outcomes and scenarios in his head in a matter of nanoseconds. he tightens his hand around his knife's hilt, advances forward, and — abruptly stops as the world careens back into focus and he realizes jesus christ that's not a faceless stranger who means him harm or the fucking bogeyman that's — ]

York. [ his name leaves his mouth on a strangled, half-choked gasp. wash flinches and recoils like he's been socked hard in the face, his knife nearly slipping from his fingers. ]

[decryptify]

[ York remains perfectly calm.

Which is something of the norm, for him, but there might be something different about it, this time, a deep-seated rage simmering just under the surface, a storm under the calm. He still doesn't entirely know where that came from, but he doesn't care. It makes sense, now, isn't something that he thinks to question, and why would he question it when the source of all his problems is right here in front of him? This'll be easy. Simple. Wash won't see it coming.

Maybe he could even have fun with it.

Wash tries to strike him, reels back, and he can almost see the gears spinning in his head as he reacts instinctively, readies himself to move in for another blow -- but oh, there it is, there's the realization. There's his name, and the way Wash flinches and pulls back like the name itself hurts him, and yes, Wash, how does it feel to see him again after all these years? He wonders if Wash realizes what he's done, if Wash knows everything he has to answer for, if he knows he should be afraid. ]

Hey. [ Under his helmet, he's smiling, calm and easy, and he lifts an armored hand to tick two fingers against his helmet in a little casual mock-salute. A pause, a step forward, another. ] Got all of that out of your system?