![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
( EXECUTION - WEEK 2 )
 Unlike the previous day, those who are asleep past 8:00 AM will experience no pain as they're roused awake. Instead, they're pulled from their sleep peacefully, almost as if enveloped in a mother's loving embrace. A comfortable warmth spreads through their body as they open their eyes, finding themselves free of any grogginess or disorientation. Similarly, those who woke up early or were unable to sleep at all will find themselves alert and ready to take on the day. Considering what is about to transpire, however... no one would be blamed for wishing they could stay asleep. Just like the previous day, residents who do not make their way to the Dining Hall before 8:15 AM will be forcibly escorted out of their rooms (or wherever else they may be). True to Craftly's words, one of the faceless men will be waiting in the Dining Hall while all the current survivors gather. Once everyone is there, with the exception of Kamui, the staff member will slip a transparency into the projector, switching the device on to reveal what appears to be a telegram.
ic rulebook | locations | statuses | room assignments private conversations | ic profiles | graveyard | full navigation |
no subject
[ There's an audible crack coming from his shoulder now, as he tries to get the wrist ties to loosen up too. Aw. At least he doesn't give off more than... well, whatever's happening to his face, he's not screaming and crying about it.
Wow, his feet are sure looking bad by themselves. There's something about Yato, where they know that they need their arms and legs to defend, but suddenly he doesn't care anymore. Or maybe he's just taking that to the extreme? Doing you proud, Abuto. ]
no subject
[What the hell is he going to do with Kamui's miniature umbrella? Maybe there's someone else in the motel who might want it...
He can appreciate Kamui's attempt, at least, even if it's more than what Girge would've done. It won't change the outcome—and perhaps that also makes it ugly and unseeming, this reveal of weakness—but there's a poetry to be had in a final spark. Fighting's the only thing that has any meaning to him, after all.
But really, Kamui's fate has been sealed. With every turn of the crank, as the spikes draw closer, it becomes further inevitable.]
no subject
There's just some cricking noises coming from his feet now, and blood is trickling out over his cement prison. The oncoming spikes are, of course, what he ends up staring at.
Impaled. Squished. Maybe that's fitting. Eventually, one is close enough for him to lean out and lick it... but he doesn't, because he's not that much of an animal today.
And then, the first one breaks through his clothing, followed quickly by the second, and a third, quickly piercing skin following that. He grits his teeth, but his expression is still the same. Even when blood begins to trickle out of his mouth and his entire skeleton is suddenly starting to crack. ]
no subject
With that, Girge sees no reason to delay things—no reason to prolong his death. As Kamui's body begins to crack, he pushes down the crank with everything he has.]
no subject
Maybe this was for the best. There was something dark put inside of him, after all. It'd happen eventually.
The spikes suddenly just through his organs, his thighs, hands, his hair—if you name a body part, there's likely to be multiple spikes through it.
Even the unmentionable ones, for you sinners.
In the end, he doesn't make a noise, aside from the blood pool tricking out. And after awhile, that slows down its leak as well.
Kamui is dead. ]
no subject
All survivors will wake up in their respective beds at 11:00 AM, as if nothing happened.]