turnout | week five

week five

WEEK FIVE

!
run, run, run

As the party has been advised to rest for a few days before heading back out to their journey, on the third night of their undisturbed peace in the bunker, they may be beginning to feel that it really is safe down there. And for the most part, it is. Is everyone sleeping soundly? Or is someone awake when a faint tink followed by a hiss can be heard…?

Characters will awaken to the sight and smell of a canister of gas having been tossed into their bunker from the hidden opening above. Whoever's up there, they intend to force you out of your safe haven like a bunch of unwanted gophers from someone’s lawn.

The gas that leaks from the canister will spread throughout the bunker slowly but surely — characters will need to be swift about waking everyone up and escaping out of the bunker. Take what you can carry, and fast! The gas is an acidic, pungent substance that causes eyes to water and vision to blur; it also obstructs the air ways, if too much of it is inhaled — symptoms may linger for multiple days, in that case.

Once you’ve made it outside, you’ll be able to identify your attackers: some of the teenagers you encountered two weeks ago are among them, and this seems to be the rest of their camp, their parents, friends, and comrades. The survivors' party is vastly outnumbered, and the raiders that have come are actively hostile: the party will have to fight their way to an escape, and it’s not going to be a bloodless struggle on either side.

The good news is that while there are many enemies, they are regular humans armed with the same makeshift weapons you’ve all had to make do with. Fighting your way through them shouldn’t be impossible… if you’re willing to do what’s necessary.

It will soon become apparent that the entire mission will be at risk if you stick around trying to subdue every opponent — though simultaneously, it’s also impossible to regroup with the entire party. Looks like you’ll have to split up just to survive…

if you chose beach...

In the chaotic departure from the bunker, Shoko Ieiri, Leontuzzo Bellone, Vinsmoke Reiju, Henry Creel, Sigewinne, and Gojo Satoru make their escape towards a nearby shoreline, losing their pursuers in the coves and rocky structures that lead to the sea.

Supplies are likely scarce due to the hastened way everyone was forced to leave: securing food and water will be among the first necessary tasks. On this piece of shoreline, there are a number of small piers and abandoned nets, not to mention driftwood that can be sharpened into spears. That’s right, this team will have to play a 🔥FISHING MINIGAME🔥 to secure their food. There are also small tide pools where shellfish may be collected, but crabs are aggressive and may pinch any errant fingers.

Water, on the other hand, is harder to come by. There are no fresh water sources nearby, so either the endless salt water will need to be processed somehow, or… everyone will begin to feel the effects of dehydration. Delirium, lightheadedness, and worst of all, chapped lips.

Places to rest will be... rustic and wild, to say the least, but there are a number of pits that would be suitable for making campfires, if enough material is found to feed the flames.

Characters on the beach will also discover that there are a number of traps hidden in the sand, rusty and clearly human made. They seem to be intentionally hidden among the terrain, and judging by the blood rust on them, they’ve been in use for some time.

Sigewinne is caught in one of these traps, badly injuring one of their legs. The trap is fashioned to be similar to a bear trap, and will take collaboration to be freed from.

Nearby zombies have caught on to the fact that this is a hunting ground of sorts where humans occasionally get stuck in these traps — therefore, they’re prowling around further up the beach in scattered groups, distracted and listless until the sounds of traps going off draws them sprinting towards the party. Given the nature of the minefield of traps, one wrong step while running away could mean the end! It might be better to stand ground and fight….

Of this group, no one is infected.

if you chose forest...

In the chaotic departure from the bunker, Haru Okumura, Soujuurou Shizuki, Mark Grayson, Suzuha Amane, Ninety-Nine and Hella make their escape towards the denser part of the forest, losing their pursuers in the cover of tall trees and thick bushes.

Supplies are likely scarce due to the hastened way everyone was forced to leave: securing food and water will be among the first necessary tasks. In this section of forest, wildlife does seem to be teeming thanks to the time of year, with mule deer and small foxes scampering about. The game is quick and clever here, and much more difficult to approach and catch than the horses everyone encountered a while back. Without someone skilled in hunting or trapping, the party will likely begin to suffer from the effects of starvation. Sluggish movement, and increasing desperation to eat anything that might be edible.

As for forage-able plants, there aren’t many. Several berries and leaves in this area seem to be mildly poisonous, which will cause any particularly desperate campers an unpleasant surprise if they try their hand at tasting them.

The small mercy of this area is that there’s a small freshwater creek, which will provide some relief from dehydration — though it’s far too shallow to submerge oneself in any capacity.

Places to rest will be... rustic and wild, to say the least, but there are a number of pits that would be suitable for making campfires, if enough material is found to feed the flames.

Characters in the forest will also discover that not only is there normal wildlife here, but there is also infected wildlife. During one of the nights while camping, the group will be ambushed by an infected bear and a single cub. That’s right, this party will need to defeat a 🔥ZOMBIE BEAR BOSS FIGHT🔥 to stay alive.

During the ambush, Haru Okumura is mauled by a swipe of one of the bear’s paws, severely injuring them.

As with the other infected, it seems only the bites of these creatures cause a transmission of the virus, so characters will need to be very careful about not getting bit. The claws are fair game, with paws rated E for Everybody. Better time those dodge rolls!

Of this group, Soujuurou Shizuki is infected.

rendezvous

It won’t be easy to find each other again after getting separated so suddenly, especially not after both groups have likely sustained several injuries. Straying further than five miles from each other will still have the bracelets sending a potent burning sensation through your arm, so perhaps you ought to use the bracelets as a compass to get an estimation of what direction you ought not to go.

Due north of the shoreline and forest, though, there is a lighthouse overlooking a small touristy gift shop and gas station, who’s height might be useful as a landmark for the groups to travel to.

The inside of the lighthouse provides decent shelter, with ample room inside for the small ragtag team to each have a place to be alone, but the howl of the sea breeze, and the unending crashes of the waves against the cliffside may make sleep less than restful. In fact, being alone in here might be scarier than the outside. Worst of all, from the looks of the darkening gray sky, a storm might be coming soon.

Reuniting might still prove even more bittersweet than the first time the party split. Take what you can from the available gas station snacks and tourist shirts, and treat whatever wounds possible… because there’s unfortunately not the same amount of time to rest and recover as there was in the bunker, which is now a distant relic of the past. They're closing in on their destination, however they might feel about it.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Her face pinches in annoyance as soon as he gives her attitude, leveling him with a glare that's far too unserious for what's likely prompting his shift in demeanor. The Sinner she's closest with after Ninety-Nine was like this too, before she was dragged here; she'd act like her friend up until she got too in her head about her powers and decided to give Hella the cold shoulder. If there's one thing she hates as one of the most naturally nosy people in the Bureau, it's being shut out. ]

Oh, it's you. [ She does an impression of his voice, still whispering. ] The fuck? I come to check on you and this is how you talk at me? Up yours, Mark.

[ Unimpressed, she chucks her next berry in the direction of the deer, which catches its attention, but doesn't quite scare it off, yet. The threat there is real, though: she can and will scare it away if she keeps getting the sense that letting Mark 1v1 it will only worsen his bloodlust. ]

I wanted to make sure you weren't going nuts over here.

[ She already hadn't been winning him over, but up yours? He stares at her incredulously, a curl to his lip. Not enough for teeth to show, just—

His eyes widen as she throws a berry towards the deer. Mark freezes, tense, watching it to see what it does. He could probably still catch it on his own if it took off, but that isn't something he has to worry about.

Yet. When he turns back to face Hella, there's teeth. ]

I'm fine. [ Little too loud on that second word there. Things go a little too still, like the deer is about to bolt at any moment. He stops breathing, but after a second, his glare resumes. ] I'm not doing anything. See? Nothing is happening here.

[ Technically true, not that he hadn't been trying to work himself up into making something happen. And now that he can sense his chance slipping away, he's maybe starting to get pissed at Hella specifically. ]

[ She levels him with a matching glare, still unconvinced. Sure, she can hear and see that he's actually starting to get pissed for real, but her pastime in the Bureau is literally irritating Sinners stronger than her until they start whaling on her, so this is just another day ending in y. At least here, she feels she has a good reason to direct his anger at something other than an innocent deer he just wants to tear apart — she's not even doing it for fun. If she was, this would be the part where she started smiling and laughing the madder he got. Instead, she keeps her expression stern, like she's disciplining a bad dog. ]

Right. So you're just sitting here for no reason. Well, I guess you don't care if I throw another berry, then!

[ She fiddles around in her pockets for another one, then winds her arm back as though she's going to toss it. Mercifully, she holds the position there, not yet following through. ]

Unless you're trying to catch it for all of us?

[ His lip curls up into a snarl at the threat of her potentially chasing the deer off. He is so hungry, and Hella is just fucking around for. What? Is she trying to piss him off? Does she want to see what he can actually do? His muscles tense, his fists clench, ready to rush in on her before she can follow through,

She directs that actual question on him, and his heart stops. ]

I— [ The fight fades from his voice, like she's effectively called him out on an instinct he wasn't aware he was operating on. He was going to zoom over, sink his teeth into the deer, tear it apart in his own personal feast. He was just psyching himself up. Or waiting for the right moment.

He'd forgotten there were others with him, and that blunt reminder leaves Mark lost, uncertain, upset. At her, at himself, at everything.

He looks away. ]

I need one for myself. [ A petulant mutter. He can't even look at her right now. ] I could catch another one for you guys after.

[ The reminder had been the important part — reminding him that he's not alone out here, with only his urges. Ninety-Nine gets that way too, only able to think about fighting and destruction. That, and, well, she wants (needs) to understand how to take care of their party members who are getting to this state. Hella is stubborn in her hope: she's adamant about saving them all, even those who get infected, so long as they can survive long enough without fully turning. ]

Is that the only thing you think you can eat?

[ The question is genuine: will only blood of a living thing sate him now? That makes things more difficult... but she needs to be sure. ]

I… don’t know.

[ Now that her tone has softened — now that she no longer seems to be trying to piss him off — he risks a glance up at her. Confirming that she isn’t going to chase the deer off after all, or confirming that they’re still friends. Or something.

But it’s just a glance, because he can’t stand to look at her for much longer then that. Shame burns across his face as he redirects his gaze to the ground. Not her, not the deer, just— nothing. ]

It’s the only thing I want to eat. [ … ] I don’t think it makes a difference beyond that.

[ This presents a new dilemma she hadn't thought of. Feeding Ninety-Nine is a daily struggle she deals with, though not because of the content of what she eats. It's the sheer volume and how much money it takes to keep her from feeling hungry, or in this place, how much effort it takes to continually scavenge enough. This is a different kind of difficult.

Rather than disgust, what flickers across her face is an expression of deep contemplation. It doesn't go unnoticed by her that he's avoiding her gaze, but she simply lets it happen for now, lifting a gloved hand to her chin. ]

Then let's catch it. And we can see how you feel afterwards...

[ If it worsens his symptoms or makes him more blood thirsty, then as she suggested to him before, at least she's the one nearby right now, and not someone more fragile. On the other hand, maybe this will stave off the infection for longer, or perhaps infected people can sustain themselves on animal meat alone. But they won't know unless they test it. ]

Or... I could give you a little of my blood. It'll regenerate — but no biting. [ It's not an idea she's particularly eager to try, but Parma had called her consumable material for a reason. Whatever is cut off of her or drained can always be replaced. ] Do you think that would help, or would it just make you more hungry?

[ Then let's catch it, and his eyes flick right back up to hers, suddenly way too hopeful, like a dog that's on the verge of obtaining an entire table's worth of scraps. Just push them over the edge... just let him go, do what he can do, and everything will work out... He'll feel amazing afterwards, he just knows it...

Or... I could give you a little of my blood, and Mark's eyes widen. The hopeful look is gone, replaced by an incredulous stare. Why would she offer that? That's fucked up, in a way that tearing an animal apart with his teeth alone somehow... isn't.

He needs to sit down, so he does, crouch unceremoniously dropping to the ground as he eyes Hella warily. ]

I'm not a vampire. [ It's a weak protest, but he isn't sure what he's protesting. Does he need that deer specifically? Or... as his eyes linger on Hella's bare skin a little too long...

He shakes his head. No, nope, no. Can't think like that. He absolutely cannot think like that. ]

I don't think I could get any hungrier. [ It's not a joke. He can only attribute the fact that he hasn't pounced on anything yet to sheer willpower. ] I... If you think it's worth trying... then at least we could catch a deer for the rest of you guys after.

[ He absolutely does not want to validate this behaviour from Hella, her acting like any pain she receives is no big deal. But at the same time...

He meets her eyes, his maybe a little too wild at the promise of sating this, finally. ]

Do you have a bowl or something?

[ She squints, keeping her gaze neutral as she takes in his demeanor, his body language. Most of the time, Hella can seem irresponsible and reckless. But she looks at Mark like she would assess any threat in Syndicate — shady deal partners, gangsters two or three times her size. She's not going to let her friendship with Mark lure her in to a false sense of security. Her eyes read wary rather than fearful, as she pulls a switchblade from her coat pocket, far too nice to have been pillaged from one of the abandoned locations they've been to recently.

No, she nicked it from the raiders, when they'd made their escape, along with several other things. The battle had been so chaotic that several people made great marks, and Hella had known their things would be of similar quality to those at the oasis. More than that, she wanted to rob them. Case in point, she also pulls out a small tin cup she's been fond of using since stealing it from them — it's made getting water from the creek a lot easier. ]

You can keep it. Since it's gonna have your germs on it...

[ Which she says as airily as if complaining that he simply has the flu, sighing as she sets the cup on the ground. Then, she rolls up her jacket sleeve as high as she can, looking tentatively back towards the direction of camp. She needs to be quick about this — Ninety-Nine might smell her bleeding and come running, assuming something bad happened. ]

But stay back, I'm serious. [ She brandishes the knife towards him, unblinking. One gets the sense she's held a lot of people at knifepoint in her life, with the ease with which she slips back into that role. ] It's for your own good.

[ She does not want to think about what might happen if Ninety-Nine were to happen upon him attacking Hella; she's seen enough people turned into fine paste or shapeless stains against the wall by her companion that she has no doubt she'll try to do the same to him. With that, she plunges the knife deep into space below the bend of her elbow, her fist facing up. The cut needs to be deep enough that enough blood will spill from it before her body closes it up, but not so deep that the wound won't heal before Ninety-Nine catches on to the scent — mercifully, as she yanks the knife out, a considerable spurt of blood runs down her arm and into the cup, steadily flowing. It takes no time at all for the cup to become three quarters full, and she pushes it closer across the space between them with a nudge of her foot, careful not to spill it. ]

— Take it.

[ and here's the part where i say hella's blood probably tastes weird due to all the experiments and chemicals... 🤡 ]

[ The wariness in her gaze should hurt. It will, later, when he actually thinks back on it, replays the scene in his head. But for now all he can think about is the prospect of food of some kind, so it's with a single-minded focus that he stares at Hella, watches her take out her items one by one. An absent-minded nod at the thought of his germs, because yeah, sure, whatever. His cup now. Great.

And as soon as she rolls her sleeve up his focus is right there on her bare skin. There's a small voice inside him telling him that he should object, get her to stop, they'll find another way — but it's small, paling in comparison to the biological need to simply eat. Her look back to camp goes unnoticed, he's just waiting, waiting... doesn't realize how he's moved to sit up on his haunches, ready—

Hella snaps him back to reality when she orders him to stay back, his gaze darting from her skin to the knife, pointed right at him. Past it to her eyes, her serious stare, and... he isn't thinking about anyone else at all. Just gets the sense that Hella is warning him off, and that she, specifically, will attack him if he tries anything — which, in hindsight, he'll realize he was considering. In the moment though he stops breathing, shocked at the threat before nodding, once, slow, and shifting back a pace.

He can behave. He can be patient. It's fine; later, he will realize it was not fine.

There's a sharp intake of breath on his part as Hella cuts into herself, the scent of blood reaching him, smelling like it never has before. Mark can feel his heart rate quickening at the sight of it, seeing, listening to the cup fill up.

And then it's his, and he's looking up at her like he's trying to confirm this is real. She just cut into herself for him. For him to drink her blood. And he wants to, maybe more than he's ever wanted anything. The realization makes Mark hesitate before he reaches out for it, cradles the cup in his hands. Looks up at Hella once more as if seeking her permission, even though he already has it. Brings it to his lips, and,

oh, god.

It does taste weird, but at the same time... it's blood, he didn't exactly have a baseline for what it would taste like before. The important thing is it's sating. More than that, it's good. He decides it's good, and that initial sip turns into a full-on drink, Mark tipping his head back to get the liquid in him all the faster. It's like he's found an oasis in the desert,

and then it's gone, and that doesn't seem fair. He wants more. And screw the deer, Hella is right here, and what's a knife against him—

Deep, shaky breath. He can't lose himself like this. When Mark lowers the cup from his lips, empty but for some of her blood staining its sides — maybe he can lick that clean after — he is praying, praying, praying he looks normal. ]

Thanks.

[ His voice is a whisper. He needs to be quiet. The deer— what he just did— It still can't be real. ]

... What now?

[ She wants to watch the process of her arm closing up to get a better sense for how her powers are faring, but she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of Mark after offering him the cup. She's half expecting him to just jump and try to attack her right now, which she wouldn't exactly hold against him — the infection is a gnarly thing — but it would be frustrating. It isn't lost on her that Mark is becoming exactly what he seemed so afraid of becoming all those weeks ago, and for that reason, she handles this all with gentle hands, not admonishing ones.

She hopes that later.... he might realize how fucked up all this is. Telling him that now won't help or do anything but stress him out, she's aware. But it wasn't so long ago that he was so adamant about never hurting her — now it feels as though he's waiting with bells on for her to cut herself open again. The difference is staggering.

Only when he speaks again does she lower the knife, the wound already smooth and knitted back together. Perhaps sensing that her body is in bad shape from lack of food and exhaustion, her powers go into maximum overdrive to try to prevent her from losing more blood. The stains remain on her skin, but not a drop can escape the cut she'd made any more. ]

Well? Did it help?

[ She huffs, expectant, puffing her cheeks up a bit in faux-annoyance. It's hard to tell whether that helped clear his mind, or if it just made him more feral and out of control, so she leans in a bit to peer at him skeptically, moving her head this way and that to look at him from different angles. She's not sure what she expected — maybe for the snack to be a chill pill? That a little bit a day might stagnate his growing obsession over it? "An apple a day keeps the doctor away," she's sure she's heard that somewhere.

Her eyes linger on a smear of dark red on the corner of his lip — the smudge of her own blood so clear on his face is unnerving, but Hella has seen far more disturbing things done with her blood and organs, so perhaps she's number to it than a normal person would be. ]

You don't seem any different. Other than being less cranky.

[ She goads him, wanting to see if he'll respond aggressively if she makes jabs at him at all. It's important work to understand what kind of threat he'll be to the other party members when he's hungry like this; it just comes naturally to her to try to investigate like this, even if physical harm might come to her because of it. ]

[ He's watching Hella intently to try to gauge where they're at now, so her staring at the corner of his lip doesn't go unnoticed. Mark brings a finger up to wipe at it. Sees said finger come back red with blood. Sticks it in his mouth without a second thought to lick it off, and has just enough awareness in the moment to recognize that this is fucked up.

So it's all he can do but offer her a weak smile in response to her taunt. ]

I'll take less cranky. [ That's a good thing, right? ] Um... I think it helped. I mean that's the first thing I think I've really had the chance to eat in a while, so...

[ There was some of Haru's cooking, but that only did so much. Hella's blood felt filling, like something his body actually needed to keep running, and it... still wasn't enough.

He hesitates. Mark knows he can't lie about his condition; it's a matter of group safety at this point. But at the same time, as he works on pushing himself through a haze of blood lust, two things are becoming clearer: he's going to be a dangerous liability sooner rather than later; and Hella can never know, because she won't take the threat he'll become seriously.

So: he chooses to lie. ]

I do feel better, yeah. [ An exhale, a more confident smile he has not earned. ] Better enough that maybe we can catch a deer for you guys... I can always have what's left of it after you guys have had your fill.

[ It feels like an effective compromise: feed the group, then himself.

And then wait for the right moment, because he cannot risk going on like this. ]

[ She lets what he says hang in the air for a bit, turning over each word for clues. Meanwhile, she scrubs a jacket sleeve in the dirt, then on her bloodied arm, trying to mask the scent. ]

Well, okay... just tell me if you start feeling that nuts again. I could do more, some each day. It doesn't hurt, I can take it.

[ She lies too, as she's known to do in times like these, just like she'd lied when it had felt like Kotoha was going to crush every bone in her hand. It puts a burden on others for them to know she's hurting, and so, she really prefers to not show pain, even though she hates feeling it.

A little blood spilling is practically harmless compared to the amount of times Ninety-Nine has rendered her unable to move from injuries, so what's the big deal? It's fine. No broken bones, no limbs hanging by thread, no internal bleeding. She can handle it, even if it's fucked up. She would've done this for Kotoha, too. Satisfied with the soil caking her unmarred skin, she rolls her sleeve back down, shaking out the lose crumbles of dirt. ]

Let's catch it, and we can cut off a big piece for you at the start. That way it's not like you have to wait around for us....

[ She pockets her switchblade too, genuinely thinking about how to care for Mark as if she's his zookeeper or something. It's not that she's delusional or stupidly optimistic; she just genuinely believes it's possible to take care of him in this state. Ninety-Nine can be a handful too, sometimes, she has her own quirks to stay alive, but helping her is a duty Hella does without a single complaint. Giving him a sideways glance, she peeks out of the bush they're behind — the doe is still there, though it's moved on to another patch of berries. ]

And you could eat it out here, if you're scared of what the camp might think.

[ She won't judge him, though. As far as she's concerned, it's better she come to terms with all this quickly so that his needs don't go unmet. ]

[ There it is again: Hella offers to continue hurting herself for him and his attention is right on her, almost like a predator sizing up its prey. There's the pragmatic benefit of having a source of food continually on call, something a full-blown zombie is incapable of comprehending that he still can; then there's the part where his friend is offering to hurt herself so he can drink his fill of her on a regular basis, and the part of him that's hungry keeps threatening to swallow the part of him that's horrified.

So Mark nods at her offer. Even the part of him that's horrified recognizes it's not worth arguing; Hella has her pride, her belief in her abilities, and he's just going to let her keep having them. Maybe it'll be easier on the both of them this way. ]

Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll let you know.

[ Not that he intends on taking her up on it for too long, because one way or another it would fall apart: either he snaps and tries to eat her entirely, or he catches himself before then and stops being a problem, period.

So... the deer. He follows her lead, peaking out of the bush to see that it's still there, still ripe for the picking. And he's still pretty hungry, if less salivating at the mouth, so... ]

... I think that'd be for the best. [ He swallows. ] I don't think anyone else at camp should really... see me like this.

[ Drinking blood is one thing, but who knows what he's going to end up doing to an animal carcass. He shivers a little in anticipation before ducking back behind the bush, turning to face Hella again. Normal, normal, please be normal... ]

I was going to try flying over to it, catch it by surprise, snap its neck. Quick and painless. [ His original plan had been to eat it alive. He's so far gone, isn't he. ] But I'll follow your lead, if you had another plan.

[ He's still human. He can still cooperate, still be a team player. He's still human — he can keep being that for a little while longer, surely. ]

[ She can relax a little, now that he's agreed.... not that she can tell how sincere he's being. She'll have to check in with him and make sure he doesn't try to hide his symptoms from her, as some other Sinners she's close with are known to do.

She heaves out a big long sigh, quiet enough that it doesn't catch the attention of the deer. ]

Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anyone how you'd eat a raw hamburger right now if you could.

[ Which is said in jest, half baked and lacking in energy; she wanta to lighten the mood, but she also knows this is serious. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she wiggles her arm afterwards to make the circulation feel more normal — on the surface, she looks the same as she did before all this happened. ]

I don't know shit about hunting, so that sounds good to me. I can help cut it up, maybe...

[ It's a coin toss as to how much he'll try to hide his symptoms, a matter of how desperate he is to eat something at any given moment — because if it wasn't obvious before, it is now: he's going to end up prioritizing that over his humanity. Enough so that her joke goes right over his head. He nods absentmindedly, yeah, sure, raw hamburger. Or the cow itself. Or—

Mark shakes his head. The deer. Looks back at Hella. Her arm.

Deep breath, and he's normal. ]

Yeah... I wouldn't know where to cut it. I've never had to hunt before; I think I just have an unfair advantage.

[ One that would be stupid of him not to use. So he gives Hella a nod. Looks out through the bush and nods to himself. It's okay now that he's doing this; it'll help the others, too. So it's okay.

And without warning he's up in the air, the bush losing some of its leaves in the process. The deer looks up sharply before taking off, and he's flying right after it. It's fast enough to elude him for a bit, but after a minute or so, Mark's voice meekly calls out: ] Hella? I got it.

[ And depending on how much she saw, she'll see him carrying it back to her, too — neck snapped, just like he'd said, and nothing more. ]

[ Hella pops up out of the brush once he gives the okay, relieved when she sees the deer isn't a mangled mess of gore. She could've coped with that too — God knows Ninety-Nine's hulked out on plenty of poor victims that would've been better off killed neatly — but she's happy she doesn't have to. She smiles more like her usual self, casually encouraging. ]

Oh, that was pretty fast. Good!

[ Hopping over, she motions for him to set it down in the clearing, crouching down and producing her knife again. ]

Let's see... I guess the easiest thing to do would be to cut off one of the legs. [ She'll let someone more coordinated deal with the guts and stuff... she's sure she can manage hacking off a leg. ] We can just say we got hungry or whatever, fake a little campfire. And the creek should wash off any evidence...

[ Thinking about it, this isn't that different than any of the other scams or frauds she's had to run her life; it's just more lying and covering up, which comes as second nature to her. It's less a skill and more of a way of life, it seems, considering the ease with which she rambles off what they should do to keep Mark's raw meat feast from becoming public knowledge. ]

[ While he's happy to see Hella acting more like her usual self, he frowns as she notes how quick he was. It's really not a good thing, in his eyes — sure, someone like Hella would definitely stand more of a chance against him than a deer, but the reminder that he can be an efficient killer is disconcerting. Especially when a growing part of him wants to kill.

Mark sets the deer down where she indicates and steps back, letting her look at it. He's quiet; hell, he's borderline not listening, just acting on autopilot. He doesn't want to be a killer, he doesn't want to— ]

Oh, uh... sure. Whatever you think makes the most sense. [ He just wants to place all the responsibility in Hella's hands, let her be the ideas person for a bit. It'd almost be better if this was one of those times where thinking gets a little too difficult, but nope, he's just left staring at the deer, mind going back and forth between the moment of its death and the way he's ready to eat it, now. ] We can save the organs for you guys, at least until we know which ones are the ones you should be eating.

[ Unlike him, who could eat all of them. Right now.

He crouches down across from her, intent — but his words are self-conscious. ]

If you don't mind... being here for this, I guess.

[ Hella makes a show of trying to pick the best angle to go at the deer at, bending its leg this way and that. There are Sinners who are hunters who she's watched before, though she's never attempted it herself. But she's nothing if not adventurous. ]

It's fine... you'd have to do more than eat a dead animal to scare me away.

[ Which is true, but also, she's not immune to fear. It'd be a lie to say she didn't feel tenser around him now; she feels more like she did in the early days of sharing a cell with Ninety-Nine, unsure of when the next attack was coming. She'd always been on edge back then, and though she puts in effort to sound casual, the worry still gnaws at the back of her mind.

So long as she helps.. keeps this behavior from jumping to people... maybe it'll be okay.

Rolling up her sleeves again, she starts sawing at the mid-thigh, and for the purposes of this thread, we're going to pretend the knife is sharp enough to do this.... blood starts running hot over her fingers pretty quickly, which she makes a minor face at. ]

And I don't abandon my friends. [ a beat. ] Even when they annoy me.

[ Hella makes a face at the blood running over her fingers, and he is doing everything in his power to swallow down the excitement he's automatically feeling at the sight, the smell of it.

Focus on Hella, not the blood. Focus on Hella, not the blood. Focus on Hella, not the blood. It runs through his mind, almost loud enough to drown out what Hella is actually saying. Is there something still off about her? He can't tell, too wrapped up in his own hunger and worry about actually scaring her away. He could still do that, couldn't he? And it would be justified, wouldn't it? He shouldn't be here at all—

Even when they annoy me, and Mark's brain catches up to her. After a second he huffs out a laugh, and then falls back to sit on the ground properly, forcing himself not to hover over his soon-to-be meal. Forcing himself to be a normal person, a friend. ]

Sorry about that. [ He brings up a hand to rub at the back of his neck. ] I'm... I'm working on that. Really.

[ There's just something to knowing that this is a battle he's inevitably going to lose, realizing now how bad it is. Isn't going to get any better. And maybe it's that knowledge that makes him blurt out: ] You're a good person, you know?

Yep, I know.

[ Without missing a beat. She hits bone in the deer's leg, and with some extra applied force, the bone snaps through, giving Hella the room she needs to continue slicing. It's convenient that Sinners tend to be more robust and strong than regular humans; it's not taking all her strength to get done with this task. ]

The super open-hearted and pretty Hella is always looking out for the people around her. [ citation needed... anyway ] So I'll be adding a service fee to that autograph you owe me, 500 DisCoins... you understand.

[ One gets the sense she isn't joking. For all the trouble she's going through, she needs a 200% raise when she gets home, and tips from the party members on top of it.

Crudely, when she gets most of the way done with cutting, she puts a shoe on the upper part of the deer's body for leverage, and simply tries pulling the leg the rest of the way off, making some small sounds of exertion — Mark could probably tear this thing off without so much as breaking a sweat, but in her mind, it's best he doesn't have a part in this, lest he discover that tearing things apart is really fun. When the leg finally separates from the carcass, it sends Hella stumbling down back on her behind with an oof, the still bleeding leg across her lap. ]

And a cleaning fee, too...

[ Now her dress has blood all over it... but hey, at least he can take the leg from her now. ]

[ He isn't so far gone that he can't appreciate the way Hella is able to completely sever the leg. Of course she's a lot stronger than most would give her credit for, it's just that he... yeah, he probably could have ripped off the leg himself a lot quicker. And probably messier. And probably not stop there, so he's mostly happy to let Hella take charge, because he really can't trust himself anymore.

(Then there's the part of him that's hungry and doesn't care, but. He can still swallow that down, mostly. For now.)

Mark laughs softly at Hella's demands as he moves to take the leg from her. He refuses to dive into it right away, because being her friend is more important than eating right now. (Should always be more important, but he no longer has the luxury of being naive.) It's still an out of place sound as he looks at it, turns it over, ]

Yeah... Yeah, I understand,

[ still refuses to eat it immediately, because. You can't just interrupt a conversation to go into a blood frenzy. That isn't what people do, and he is still a person, damn it — even though his gaze keeps dropping back down to the leg.

Although it's really easy to promise her more money he definitely does not have because Mark knows he isn't going to be around much longer. But if it makes Hella happy in the meantime then what's the harm, right? ]

I'll pay you back when I can. I really owe you one for this.

[ sentiments that definitely aren't going to come back to bite him in the ass later ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

week five

!
run, run, run

rendezvous

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cw: self harm

i feel like this needs a cw but i have no idea what. gross?

HELP... cw: just a guy being weird

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cw animal death

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week five

!run, run, run

rendezvous

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: self harm

i feel like this needs a cw but i have no idea what. gross?

HELP... cw: just a guy being weird

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw animal death

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

!
run, run, run