[When he comes into the kitchen he's distracted, of course he is. His King's life is on the line. He's supposed to stay with Ichigo but the poor guy was finally sleeping so soundly he didn't have the heart to wake him just because he had to take a piss.
Now he'd just snag a water bottle or some juice or something, take a drink and head back to the cabin. Ichigo wouldn't have to know. He wouldn't get anyone in trouble, he wouldn't do anything he just... He'd find a way, somehow, without resorting to this.
Noctis would be so disappointed in him for even considering it.]
[Chloe has been in the kitchen for a while now - her obsession with masks has been keeping her awake as long as it's gnawing at the corners of her mind, but she refuses to show weakness. She's confirmed with Lenka that everyone else is going through the same thing, which means no one can be trusted regardless. So, she's decided to stake out the kitchen for the time being. Usagi left it in almost as bad of shambles as Lillith's foul smells, but it's still one of the more tolerable shelters one could seek, and ensures she won't have to go too far if she gets hungry - a lot of others have had the same idea, of course, but the fools never realize she's there. Well, in their defense, her power of illusion can disguise her entire body as one measly object, and so as long as she keeps one hand on the counter top all they'll notice is an innocent lemon. The most dangerous thing to Chloe right now... is the whisper in her head, something that's always been difficult to resist.
Because this power isn't just good for hiding, and she knows it, especially with the little revolver still nestled safely in her purse. Both times a camper showed up, she couldn't help but think about how they wouldn't even see her coming if she put a bullet in their heart, and even whoever came running to investigate the gunshot would miss her sneaking away. That guy who was last seen here in the night was the one who would look suspicious. She could pin it on him, no way could that fail. That's the opportunity she needed to really get away with it... and the price was fair, wasn't it? If she exposed the Papillon's crimes, she would be saving Paris, more than her idol, greater than a superhero! Everyone, everyone would praise her, and no one would ever have to know. A politician's daughter should be prepared to make the tough decisions. Daddy always told her it doesn't matter if what you do is unpopular as long as it gets what you want. No, not want. She needs to know. Ladybug couldn't even save her from all of this.... Chloe deserves the credit, after all she's put up with! She sees now. Ladybug was never supposed to save Chloe. Chloe was supposed to do the saving this time. It's so clear... it's so obvious. The perfect power, the perfect weapon, the perfect crime, the perfect reason all aligning at once, mean that this was her fate. It's her time to shine. She only needs one sacrifice.... for once in her life she'll be patient. And get her sniffling under control, for heavens' sake.
By the time Talcott enters, she's composed and silent, already holding the revolver in one hand and toying with it in anticipation. The smirk that crosses her face when he enters is invisible to him, but she can feel the muscles pulling in her face and her heartbeat starting to race. Finally! Holding her breath as best she can, she tracks him with her eyes as he moves toward the drinks. Her fruit-glamoured fingers curl into a fist on the counter top as her other hand raises and points. She can already hear the voice of her hero fawning over her. The taste of victory is on her tongue, and in that moment, Chloe fires, and she isn't sorry.]
[The force of the impact sends him reeling, staggering into the counter. It knocks the wind out of him, makes him grunt with pain as his vest stops the piercing power of the bullet, spreading the force out over his shoulder. Before he can even catch his breath he's spinning around to face his assailant, one hand going to the long knife at his belt.
But there's no one there, nothing to be seen. Hazel eyes go wide, terrified. For a moment his thoughts go to Richie but no, no then he'd be able to see the gun and Richie wouldn't. He couldn't. Not to him.]
[Gotcha! She almost says, but for whatever reason her jaw hangs open and the words don't make it out of her throat. She really just... shot someone and that's that. Her hand stays on the counter, only sliding slightly (the visual impression of a gently rocking lemon) as she takes one step toward the slumped-over body.
And then he jumps up! She gasps and recoils in shock, which could possibly be mistaken for Richie, but more importantly what the hell. She really thought that should have killed him, but maybe she's underestimated the effectiveness of an attack from behind. She growls in frustration and lifts the gun again, moving her other hand without thinking - this is going to look a lot like the lemon just strafed off the counter and shot a bullet at him, like he's suddenly in some terrible knock-off Veggie Tales action movie. She'll get him in the heart this time. She's determined to keep shooting until he's put down.]
[It's such an odd visual but his training is so thorough, so ingrained that he follows the movement (of a lemon!?) and that is immediately his target.
The next bullet slams into his chest, staggers him half a step before he's moving forward, rushing into that third shot with a shout. He barely has time to recognize the voice, reaching up from under the firing point. If they're invisible then he has to estimate but it should be about where a wrist would be, forcing the arm up and away.
Coward. Whoever this is, sneaking up for a cheap shot like that. And he knows damn well that it could have been anyone. He's a target of convenience, that's all.]
[By the third shot she has gotten it through her head that these shots to the chest are doing nothing, so her arm is already lifting on its own, higher, the head- when her wrist is seized, and the rest of the bullets fire into the ceiling. Chloe shrieks and tries to wriggle out of his grasp, to no avail.]
Unhand me this instant! You're going to leave a mark! Do you even know what it takes to have skin this beautiful and delicate!?
[Which is not only ugly, but it totally ruins her plans to get away with the murder!! RUDE!! If it's come to this, there's not really any point in maintaining the illusion... fine, she drops it so he can see her scowling face. He can think of her as a coward if she wants for shooting him in the back, but Chloe is small and pampered. Even her grip on the trigger looks untrained. It's obvious that she's never killed anyone in her life - she flings her free fist fruitlessly at his shoulder, and the impact may as well have been from an actual lemon. Chloe Bourgeois is weak. No... not only that. Restrained like this, she's downright vulnerable. A chill passes down her spine as that begins to dawn on her. Her bitty punches stop, and instead she brings that hand to rest over her heart emphatically.]
I needed this, you know! If you would have just let me kill you, I could expose the greatest supervillain and save Paris... [She'll leave out the impure parts of her motivations.] ....But I'm all out of bullets now, so you might as well let me go.
[He has to let her go, right? She's so helpless and cute and relatable!! She's sure she won't have to seriously beg for her life.]
[It's... interesting that she has so much to say, so much she feels the need to justify. Talcott isn't listening to any of it. She throws a punch that is weak but it still hurts because of the bone deep bruises now radiating out from those indentations in his vest. A punch is predictable though and she's not capable of really hurting him.
Her hand crosses her chest, though, and he can't say for sure that she doesn't have another weapon on her, that she might not have some other trick to pull. She starts to speak, to protest more, but he's already moving, his free hand coming up to grab her ponytail. His movements are fast, practiced, efficient. Things he's done dozens of times before.
Her head comes down as he lifts his knee, cracking her face hard against his knee, driving up at the same time as he's forcing her down. ]
[She's screeching unbearably at this point. It's just as eerie to Chloe that this boy isn't saying anything. No yells, no noises, no protests, not even any taunts. He's silent... like Adrien's bodyguard, some kind of emotionless statue. It's not fair! That such a nobody can decide to do as he pleases with her now! Why isn't he listening?! This is way too much stress, she's starting to hyperventilate. But she can muster another loud scream when he touches her prized locks.]
Eek, not the hai-
[CRUNCH.
A creaky, high-pitched sound squeaks out of the back of her throat as she loses consciousness right then and there. Her blue eyes are still wide open in shock, water sticking to her lower eyelashes, frightened tears that had just started to form. Her jaw, too, is unsettled, as if it could drop to the floor at any minute.
[The fact that she seemed so insistent that she was going to walk away after emptying her gun at him is just... absolutely mind boggling.
As soon as she goes still he releases her, letting her drop into a heap on the floor, backing up, holding up his knife like it might be a ruse and she's liable to come at him again. He glances around, looking to see if anyone else is around, catching sight of the time.]
Shit [A soft curse and then he dropping to a knee beside her, rolling her onto her back and kicking the gun away in case she has more ammo somewhere.
It isn't until that moment that he realizes just how much damage has been done to her face, delicate young bones shattering where he's used to much larger and more powerful opponents. It's her eyes, staring sightlessly at the ceiling that makes panic roll up in his stomach. By the time he reaches down to feel for a pulse he already knows it's too late, there's nothing, of course there's nothing.
Chloe Bourgeois is dead.]
Sweet Shiva... [Quiet and shocked as he falls back, backpedaling to sit against the counter across from her body. His breathing comes too fast, his eyes are damp with tears, panic and fear and disgust. This is exactly what he didn't want. He didn't want to hurt anyone, he didn't want to be responsible for this, he didn't want to disappoint the people relying on him.
But this is where he is, this is what's happened, there's no changing it and he glances up at the clock again in a panic. Ten minutes.
Ten Minutes.
His breath shudders out of him and he pulls himself back to his feet. It's too late now, there's no changing what's happened, no saving himself. He stares down at her body for a moment, draws his knife, looks away. Another deep breath to steel himself as he goes to one knee beside her head. It's not the same as a bullet but that's the only thing that kept Soma from coming back. Probably Sayama too. ]
I'm sorry... [The knife raises up but he stops before he can bring it down, hand falling uselessly to his lap instead of plunging it into her skull. He might break his knife and then what? Or... people know how much he relies on his knives, won't that make it too obvious?
Make it too obvious!?
For a moment he hesitates there, feeling ill. Is this what he wanted? Was this just... bound to happen? Would he have done this even if she hadn't attacked him? Could he forgive himself for letting someone else take the fall for him?
Could he forgive himself for not?
For Noctis, for Ignis, for the Dawn... he had to at least try.
He would not leave her to come back as one of those monsters though, something strange and unnatural like Lillith. Half daemon half something less, possibly with the person they used to be trapped inside.
The knife returns to the sheath on his belt and he looks up around the kitchen, hazel eyes landing on the row of pans hanging above the stove. Thick and heavy cast iron cookware. He closes his eyes, lashes wet and clinging but not spilling over just yet.
Standing he crosses the kitchen, feeling strange and distant, his body going through familiar motions before he's consciously decided to do anything. Unstrapping his vest and gingerly peeling himself out of it, hissing when he rolls his shoulder. His shirt and scarf follow, boots toed off and set aside, socks stuffed into them. He looks down at his shorts, blood from her nose already splattered over them. There'll be no saving them.
The scrape of iron against tile, the ringing clang of it when it knocks lightly against the stove. Sounds he should be worried about, sounds he barely registers.
She doesn't deserve this, even for trying to kill him, even though it could just as easily been one of the others, Richie and Eddie who'd asked for his protection. Boa, too proud to let himself be protected. Usagi, who had seen too much already, whod have walked into the kitchen hand in hand with Chloe and never have thought a thing of it.
Ren who, for all his powers, would be just as dead from a single shot. Ren who'd already had enough of his blood spilled. Ren-
CRACK
The first blow of the pan to her face splinters bone and he looks down at those pretty blue eyes and in that moment he hates her.
CRUNCH
Hates her for endangering the people he cares for.
SCHLIKT
He hates her for making him do this, be this person.
SQUELCH
But mostly he hates her for making him hate himself.]
Fuck!! [It bursts out of him in a sob and he collapses forward onto his knees in the mess of blood and bone and brains. It takes a long time before he can blink his eyes open, face the mess he's made of this girl. But at least she's still a girl. Will stay that way. No longer the threat to become something twisted and wrong, something daemonic.
He scrambles to his feet when he finally does look down at her corpse, flails slightly as he slips in the blood, steadies himself and hurls the pan across the room as hard as he can, only cringing more when it clangs off the metal door of the fridge.
And in the end he stands there, panting and shaking, tears streaking through the blood on his face. He has to remember how to breathe, how to stop himself from shaking.
Three minutes.
Titan give him strength... and he turns to the sink to start scrubbing himself as clean as he can. His body anyway. His shorts are a mess but the rest of his clothes are safe. He's fast enough, as long as he stays behind the buildings, out of sight, he can get a fresh pair of shorts and... toss these ones in the firepit. He doesn't expect them to burn completely but maybe it will be enough.
And if it isn't?
Ignis will never forgive him for losing their one last chance to save the King.]
[It's hard for her not to hear the sounds of MURDER since her room is not far from the kitchen. Seriously kids, murder somewhere else besides the lodge for once!
After checking in on Stan and reviewing the video footage to see just what happened, Red goes in and looks down at the mess on the kitchen floor. And she grimaces.]
He wasn't very kind, was he? It's too bad his plan won't work.
[Because she can see what he was trying to do, and he's not the first camper to have tried it.
Oh well. At least she wasn't alive for that part.
She considers leaving Chloe there, since she did just agree to not mess with bodies anymore. But then again, she can only push back against protocol so much before her superiors start getting involved. And given how much she broke protocol this week already, it's best to not mess with them.
So, she leaves the kitchen for a moment, and then comes back with the American flag from the flagpole outside. And then she begins wrapping up the body in it.]
Let it never be said that I don't care about these kids.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
]
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Now he'd just snag a water bottle or some juice or something, take a drink and head back to the cabin. Ichigo wouldn't have to know. He wouldn't get anyone in trouble, he wouldn't do anything he just... He'd find a way, somehow, without resorting to this.
Noctis would be so disappointed in him for even considering it.]
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Because this power isn't just good for hiding, and she knows it, especially with the little revolver still nestled safely in her purse. Both times a camper showed up, she couldn't help but think about how they wouldn't even see her coming if she put a bullet in their heart, and even whoever came running to investigate the gunshot would miss her sneaking away. That guy who was last seen here in the night was the one who would look suspicious. She could pin it on him, no way could that fail. That's the opportunity she needed to really get away with it... and the price was fair, wasn't it? If she exposed the Papillon's crimes, she would be saving Paris, more than her idol, greater than a superhero! Everyone, everyone would praise her, and no one would ever have to know. A politician's daughter should be prepared to make the tough decisions. Daddy always told her it doesn't matter if what you do is unpopular as long as it gets what you want. No, not want. She needs to know. Ladybug couldn't even save her from all of this.... Chloe deserves the credit, after all she's put up with! She sees now. Ladybug was never supposed to save Chloe. Chloe was supposed to do the saving this time. It's so clear... it's so obvious. The perfect power, the perfect weapon, the perfect crime, the perfect reason all aligning at once, mean that this was her fate. It's her time to shine. She only needs one sacrifice.... for once in her life she'll be patient. And get her sniffling under control, for heavens' sake.
By the time Talcott enters, she's composed and silent, already holding the revolver in one hand and toying with it in anticipation. The smirk that crosses her face when he enters is invisible to him, but she can feel the muscles pulling in her face and her heartbeat starting to race. Finally! Holding her breath as best she can, she tracks him with her eyes as he moves toward the drinks. Her fruit-glamoured fingers curl into a fist on the counter top as her other hand raises and points. She can already hear the voice of her hero fawning over her. The taste of victory is on her tongue, and in that moment, Chloe fires, and she isn't sorry.]
no subject
But there's no one there, nothing to be seen. Hazel eyes go wide, terrified. For a moment his thoughts go to Richie but no, no then he'd be able to see the gun and Richie wouldn't. He couldn't. Not to him.]
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And then he jumps up! She gasps and recoils in shock, which could possibly be mistaken for Richie, but more importantly what the hell. She really thought that should have killed him, but maybe she's underestimated the effectiveness of an attack from behind. She growls in frustration and lifts the gun again, moving her other hand without thinking - this is going to look a lot like the lemon just strafed off the counter and shot a bullet at him, like he's suddenly in some terrible knock-off Veggie Tales action movie. She'll get him in the heart this time. She's determined to keep shooting until he's put down.]
Just stay still and die!
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The next bullet slams into his chest, staggers him half a step before he's moving forward, rushing into that third shot with a shout. He barely has time to recognize the voice, reaching up from under the firing point. If they're invisible then he has to estimate but it should be about where a wrist would be, forcing the arm up and away.
Coward. Whoever this is, sneaking up for a cheap shot like that. And he knows damn well that it could have been anyone. He's a target of convenience, that's all.]
no subject
Unhand me this instant! You're going to leave a mark! Do you even know what it takes to have skin this beautiful and delicate!?
[Which is not only ugly, but it totally ruins her plans to get away with the murder!! RUDE!! If it's come to this, there's not really any point in maintaining the illusion... fine, she drops it so he can see her scowling face. He can think of her as a coward if she wants for shooting him in the back, but Chloe is small and pampered. Even her grip on the trigger looks untrained. It's obvious that she's never killed anyone in her life - she flings her free fist fruitlessly at his shoulder, and the impact may as well have been from an actual lemon. Chloe Bourgeois is weak. No... not only that. Restrained like this, she's downright vulnerable. A chill passes down her spine as that begins to dawn on her. Her bitty punches stop, and instead she brings that hand to rest over her heart emphatically.]
I needed this, you know! If you would have just let me kill you, I could expose the greatest supervillain and save Paris... [She'll leave out the impure parts of her motivations.] ....But I'm all out of bullets now, so you might as well let me go.
[He has to let her go, right? She's so helpless and cute and relatable!! She's sure she won't have to seriously beg for her life.]
no subject
Her hand crosses her chest, though, and he can't say for sure that she doesn't have another weapon on her, that she might not have some other trick to pull. She starts to speak, to protest more, but he's already moving, his free hand coming up to grab her ponytail. His movements are fast, practiced, efficient. Things he's done dozens of times before.
Her head comes down as he lifts his knee, cracking her face hard against his knee, driving up at the same time as he's forcing her down. ]
no subject
[She's screeching unbearably at this point. It's just as eerie to Chloe that this boy isn't saying anything. No yells, no noises, no protests, not even any taunts. He's silent... like Adrien's bodyguard, some kind of emotionless statue. It's not fair! That such a nobody can decide to do as he pleases with her now! Why isn't he listening?! This is way too much stress, she's starting to hyperventilate. But she can muster another loud scream when he touches her prized locks.]
Eek, not the hai-
[CRUNCH.
A creaky, high-pitched sound squeaks out of the back of her throat as she loses consciousness right then and there. Her blue eyes are still wide open in shock, water sticking to her lower eyelashes, frightened tears that had just started to form. Her jaw, too, is unsettled, as if it could drop to the floor at any minute.
Is she... really just unconscious?]
no subject
As soon as she goes still he releases her, letting her drop into a heap on the floor, backing up, holding up his knife like it might be a ruse and she's liable to come at him again. He glances around, looking to see if anyone else is around, catching sight of the time.]
Shit [A soft curse and then he dropping to a knee beside her, rolling her onto her back and kicking the gun away in case she has more ammo somewhere.
It isn't until that moment that he realizes just how much damage has been done to her face, delicate young bones shattering where he's used to much larger and more powerful opponents. It's her eyes, staring sightlessly at the ceiling that makes panic roll up in his stomach. By the time he reaches down to feel for a pulse he already knows it's too late, there's nothing, of course there's nothing.
Chloe Bourgeois is dead.]
Sweet Shiva... [Quiet and shocked as he falls back, backpedaling to sit against the counter across from her body. His breathing comes too fast, his eyes are damp with tears, panic and fear and disgust. This is exactly what he didn't want. He didn't want to hurt anyone, he didn't want to be responsible for this, he didn't want to disappoint the people relying on him.
But this is where he is, this is what's happened, there's no changing it and he glances up at the clock again in a panic. Ten minutes.
Ten Minutes.
His breath shudders out of him and he pulls himself back to his feet. It's too late now, there's no changing what's happened, no saving himself. He stares down at her body for a moment, draws his knife, looks away. Another deep breath to steel himself as he goes to one knee beside her head. It's not the same as a bullet but that's the only thing that kept Soma from coming back. Probably Sayama too. ]
I'm sorry... [The knife raises up but he stops before he can bring it down, hand falling uselessly to his lap instead of plunging it into her skull. He might break his knife and then what? Or... people know how much he relies on his knives, won't that make it too obvious?
Make it too obvious!?
For a moment he hesitates there, feeling ill. Is this what he wanted? Was this just... bound to happen? Would he have done this even if she hadn't attacked him? Could he forgive himself for letting someone else take the fall for him?
Could he forgive himself for not?
For Noctis, for Ignis, for the Dawn... he had to at least try.
He would not leave her to come back as one of those monsters though, something strange and unnatural like Lillith. Half daemon half something less, possibly with the person they used to be trapped inside.
The knife returns to the sheath on his belt and he looks up around the kitchen, hazel eyes landing on the row of pans hanging above the stove. Thick and heavy cast iron cookware. He closes his eyes, lashes wet and clinging but not spilling over just yet.
Standing he crosses the kitchen, feeling strange and distant, his body going through familiar motions before he's consciously decided to do anything. Unstrapping his vest and gingerly peeling himself out of it, hissing when he rolls his shoulder. His shirt and scarf follow, boots toed off and set aside, socks stuffed into them. He looks down at his shorts, blood from her nose already splattered over them. There'll be no saving them.
The scrape of iron against tile, the ringing clang of it when it knocks lightly against the stove. Sounds he should be worried about, sounds he barely registers.
She doesn't deserve this, even for trying to kill him, even though it could just as easily been one of the others, Richie and Eddie who'd asked for his protection. Boa, too proud to let himself be protected. Usagi, who had seen too much already, whod have walked into the kitchen hand in hand with Chloe and never have thought a thing of it.
Ren who, for all his powers, would be just as dead from a single shot. Ren who'd already had enough of his blood spilled. Ren-
CRACK
The first blow of the pan to her face splinters bone and he looks down at those pretty blue eyes and in that moment he hates her.
CRUNCH
Hates her for endangering the people he cares for.
SCHLIKT
He hates her for making him do this, be this person.
SQUELCH
But mostly he hates her for making him hate himself.]
Fuck!! [It bursts out of him in a sob and he collapses forward onto his knees in the mess of blood and bone and brains. It takes a long time before he can blink his eyes open, face the mess he's made of this girl. But at least she's still a girl. Will stay that way. No longer the threat to become something twisted and wrong, something daemonic.
He scrambles to his feet when he finally does look down at her corpse, flails slightly as he slips in the blood, steadies himself and hurls the pan across the room as hard as he can, only cringing more when it clangs off the metal door of the fridge.
And in the end he stands there, panting and shaking, tears streaking through the blood on his face. He has to remember how to breathe, how to stop himself from shaking.
Three minutes.
Titan give him strength... and he turns to the sink to start scrubbing himself as clean as he can. His body anyway. His shorts are a mess but the rest of his clothes are safe. He's fast enough, as long as he stays behind the buildings, out of sight, he can get a fresh pair of shorts and... toss these ones in the firepit. He doesn't expect them to burn completely but maybe it will be enough.
And if it isn't?
Ignis will never forgive him for losing their one last chance to save the King.]
no subject
After checking in on Stan and reviewing the video footage to see just what happened, Red goes in and looks down at the mess on the kitchen floor. And she grimaces.]
He wasn't very kind, was he? It's too bad his plan won't work.
[Because she can see what he was trying to do, and he's not the first camper to have tried it.
Oh well. At least she wasn't alive for that part.
She considers leaving Chloe there, since she did just agree to not mess with bodies anymore. But then again, she can only push back against protocol so much before her superiors start getting involved. And given how much she broke protocol this week already, it's best to not mess with them.
So, she leaves the kitchen for a moment, and then comes back with the American flag from the flagpole outside. And then she begins wrapping up the body in it.]
Let it never be said that I don't care about these kids.