[his mouth twitches into a smile, but that smile fades as his gaze grows distant. as he tries to remember. . .]
When we entered the cabin we were shown the mansion. It was. . . covered in the blood and gore of all of the murders that took place there. The corpses were left in their final resting spots, too. Ever time we found one, our. . . memories of what happened in the mansion were altered. We remembered scapegoating an innocent person who survived in reality, or failing to save anyone at all when we all made it out safely. Things like that.
[a pause, and he doesn't elaborate more before moving on]
Every time we touched a corpse it faded away and left behind a pink note with one of the camp rules written on it. One of the notes was bloodied and crumbled and all that was written on it was "winner take all" in all capital letters, repeated ad nauseam.
After collecting those notes, we made it to the attic of the mansion where we each got into a-- a fight with more illusions of people we knew. [NO MORE ELABORATION THERE, EITHER] When the fight ended, we woke up in the arts and crafts cabin.
It's not dissimilar to something Lili experienced, is it?
[hah. . .]
She saw her partner trying to encourage her to give up and play along with the game. Our memories of what happened at the mansion were altered as a threat-- visions of what could have happened, what would happen if we ignored the competition.
Hn. 'Course, playing along with the game and giving up are two different things.
[He leans into his seat, and stares at the ceiling for a moment]
We need more time to cover our bases, break into every shitty cabin we gotta... but that means we keep the game going for as long as possible... and that means someone's gonna die every Friday, at least.
[Rather suddenly, his eyes sharpen on the other, bringing him back into focus]
If you're put in a position where someone's death will lead to everyone's salvation, what will you do? Murder them, or hope that being merciful won't come back to bite you in the ass?
[this conversation took a rather morbid turn, and it takes Akira by surprise how sharp Sanji's voice and gaze are. he reels back a bit, mouth falling open, before his own expression hardens, a shadow crossing his one good eye]
. . . when the time comes, I will do whatever it takes to makes sure that everyone makes it home alive.
[Holding that gaze, and there is something almost savage lurking underneath the harshness of his expression, like an executioner sizing up a prisoner on trial]
[it's incredible how, after everything he's been through, Akira doesn't look away even when Sanji's gaze seems to bare right through him. he doesn't relax until Sanji does, breathing out a deep exhale he hadn't realized he was holding]
What it means is that Heart has gotta keep hands off for the most part, but I don't doubt they'll make me work overtime in some way for calling them old.
[Maybe Sanji enjoys a good bully session and knows he will suffer for it? Maybe.
Though it doesn't escape his notice, Akira's reaction to his stare, and that seems to put the chef even more at ease -- or at least, he is no longer interested in playing morality politics.]
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. . . so it's impossible to tell how long any of us have really been here.
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Our sense of time might have been fucked from the start.
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Based on what the counselors say about having been here for a long time, I'm beginning to suspect that technically we have, too.
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[The only reason he's keeping his options open is, well...
A pause, and he glances at Akira]
So, what did you find out? You break into one of the cabins, too?
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It was, to put it into simple terms, a total shitshow.
[he's fine now but he sure was covered in SO MUCH BLOOD despite being relatively uninjured sooooo?? what's up with that???]
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[GRUESOME]
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No! No, thank god.
[THAT WOULD'VE BEEN AWFUL]
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[he would have believed Akira if he said they had to make macaroni art out of their spleens]
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Dick mentioned that. You got it looked at, right?
[stop deflecting]
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[Also deFENSIVELY HIDING HIS SHOULDER]
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When we entered the cabin we were shown the mansion. It was. . . covered in the blood and gore of all of the murders that took place there. The corpses were left in their final resting spots, too. Ever time we found one, our. . . memories of what happened in the mansion were altered. We remembered scapegoating an innocent person who survived in reality, or failing to save anyone at all when we all made it out safely. Things like that.
[a pause, and he doesn't elaborate more before moving on]
Every time we touched a corpse it faded away and left behind a pink note with one of the camp rules written on it. One of the notes was bloodied and crumbled and all that was written on it was "winner take all" in all capital letters, repeated ad nauseam.
After collecting those notes, we made it to the attic of the mansion where we each got into a-- a fight with more illusions of people we knew. [NO MORE ELABORATION THERE, EITHER] When the fight ended, we woke up in the arts and crafts cabin.
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And specifically, Sanji knows better than to pry with the finer details. Instead he tilts his head, assessing]
What do you make of what you found?
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[hah. . .]
She saw her partner trying to encourage her to give up and play along with the game. Our memories of what happened at the mansion were altered as a threat-- visions of what could have happened, what would happen if we ignored the competition.
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[He leans into his seat, and stares at the ceiling for a moment]
We need more time to cover our bases, break into every shitty cabin we gotta... but that means we keep the game going for as long as possible... and that means someone's gonna die every Friday, at least.
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[watching Snaji with his one-eyed gaze, though he seems to be so caught up in his own thoughts that he's staring right through him]
. . . but the longer we draw this out, the more we're going to suffer.
Shadows said that to me when I mentioned not wanting too many people to die.
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The only reason the castle won is because we decided the suffering was worth the goal.
[Sanji's voice isn't cruel, but it forms into steel as he looks through Akira as well]
If there's a way to make sure everyone can win, then I'll make it happen.
[No matter the cost.]
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[and there's fire in Akira too as he utters those words, chin up, defiance etched in his expression]
We both will. Nobody will get left behind.
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[Rather suddenly, his eyes sharpen on the other, bringing him back into focus]
If you're put in a position where someone's death will lead to everyone's salvation, what will you do? Murder them, or hope that being merciful won't come back to bite you in the ass?
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[this conversation took a rather morbid turn, and it takes Akira by surprise how sharp Sanji's voice and gaze are. he reels back a bit, mouth falling open, before his own expression hardens, a shadow crossing his one good eye]
. . . when the time comes, I will do whatever it takes to makes sure that everyone makes it home alive.
I swear to it.
1/2
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Sounds good.
[Clucking his tongue like none of that happened]
I suppose I can agree to work with ya, until I get busy.
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Until you get busy?
[LIGHTLY AMUSED]
What's that mean?
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[Maybe Sanji enjoys a good bully session and knows he will suffer for it? Maybe.
Though it doesn't escape his notice, Akira's reaction to his stare, and that seems to put the chef even more at ease -- or at least, he is no longer interested in playing morality politics.]
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[and then, with a bit of amusement]
Do I owe them a thanks for you agreeing to work with me?
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[HISSING CAT MODE ACTIVATED]
I do what I want, and I told that bastard the same! The only reason I'm still here is you're not as annoying as I thought you'd be!
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