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Judicator; Bye Lucy
Topic Started: Apr 11 2014, 07:53 PM (1,241 Views)
Espi
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[ *  *  *  * ]
((Lucy Williams' story continues from Rosebud))

Lucy Williams was generally a self-assured person.

When she made a mistake, she shrugged it off and fixed it. She tried to learn from them, sure, but mostly she just laughed them off. She took things in stride and her self-esteem was good. She wasn't easily upset and she always looked at the best side of people and situations. Call her naïve, or a dumb blonde, or whatever you want, but in almost any situation Lucy was generally happy-go-lucky and optimistic.

Not now though. This was a situation she couldn't shrug off, take in stride, or laugh them off. She couldn't look at the best side because Isaiah was dead and some random bitch had killed him and Lucy couldn't help but feel to blame. So when she stormed out of the building and into the tower, hand still clenched on the sabre's handle, teeth clenched and hands turning white from how hard she was balling up her fists.

Lucy arrived at the tower by fortune more than by design; she'd have gone anywhere, as long as it wasn't back to that visitor center. She took note of the corpse outside, which appeared to be a girl in an oversized dress. However, upon a second glance she realized it was a guy, in a dress, who looked like he might've fallen from the tower.

Taylor DeVasher. A weirdo, but never seemed like a bad guy. Now he was dead, just like Isaiah. Lucy stormed into the tower, with nothing in mind besides warming up.

As soon as she walked into the lobby, Lucy froze.

"You."
TV2: Died, Didn't Do


SC2: Attempt Number Deux
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Kween in Yella
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Gabriel Munez continued from Never in a Fight))

The scene outside wasn't pretty. He recognized the dead guy on the rack from the movie line back home. Whatever had happened to him, it looked like he'd been through a wild ride to end up here.

Maybe he'd care more if he wasn't so disoriented. He'd eaten a little since he left the trails, but the blood loss was still hitting him hard. He needed to rest. This place was sort of familiar, so it seemed like a good place to ride it out for a little while.

That's what he thought curled up in the corner of the lobby, watching the door with his gun resting on his knee. If anyone came in, he could make them leave without too much trouble.

So when Lucy Williams walked through the door with that pissed off, high and mighty look on her face, his finger tensed around the trigger just a little. She was pretty far up on the list of people he didn't want to see right now.

"Hey niña," he rasped. Shivering digits gripped the handle of the gun tighter and lifted it up, letting him stare at her over the barrel. He didn't know what she was thinking as she stared down at him with his bloody outfit and drawn weapon, but it couldn't be friendly.
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Lucy was so not in the mood right now.

"Hey." Her voice was cold and dead.

She looked Gabriel up and down in his stained surgeon getup. Presumably his costume, but it was bloody.

"You're looking pretty messed up." Lucy raised an eyebrow. "What, you piss off the wrong person and they bite back?"

She stepped closer to Gabriel, closer and closer until she was only a few feet away. "Then what, you shoot 'em with that pretty gun of yours?" She shrugged. "I mean, that's what this game's about, right? Kill people for kicks, even if they're important to someone?"

Lucy had always enjoyed SOTF. It had been exciting, dramatic, action-packed and fun to watch. But being on it, that was different. Classmates of hers were dead already, and more would go down sooner than later. So now, Lucy knew, she knew exactly what she thought of this situation. Before, she'd been confused.

Now, she knew.

SOTF was hell.

But she wasn't going to be another victim.
TV2: Died, Didn't Do


SC2: Attempt Number Deux
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The gun steadied right into her chest. His body was stock still now. "Don't move. D-don't fucking move."

There it was. The judgement. The superiority. The fucking intolerable, self-righteous bullshit. This wasn't his fault, not his goddamn fault at all, and here she was swaggering around like she was still Queen Bitch at Davison.

But they weren't at Davison. And she didn't have a gun.

"Davis. Had some chick cornered so I jumped him. Tore his eye out before he shot me."

Memory was a funny thing. In the haze of blood loss and justification, recent events were being re-shaped. Louise had run because Davis had her cornered. Gabe had fought for her. Yagmur and Lisa just didn't understand, they didn't see the situation he walked in on. He wasn't a monster. He was a goddamn hero. Lucy had nothing on him.

"Get the fuck b-back, niña. One more step, just one fuckin' more..."

She had to leave. She had to. If she stayed, whatever happened next wasn't his fault either.
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((GMing approved by DocBalance))

Lucy looked down at the gun pressed into her chest.

She smiled, but it looked more pained than anything. Her body was tense, her fingers twitching.

"Oh yeah? I doubt it."

She knocked the gun away from her with a bat of her left hand, and yanked the sword from it's sheath with her right. With a quick stroke, she slashed her sword into his hand, knocking the gun away and sending a splash of crimson across the floor.

Now she had the power. The sword, held by untrained hands, was aimed at Gabriel's chest. "So what now? Still sticking to your story? Because I don't buy it. You're not the chivalrous type."
TV2: Died, Didn't Do


SC2: Attempt Number Deux
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No.

She didn't leave.

The gun dropped out of his hand as she nicked the shining steal across the flesh of his palm, drawing a thin line of blood through it's length. She escalated.

She entered his world.

There was a snarl as he grabbed the sword with his right hand, digging the cut deeper but pulling it to the side as he poured what he had left into jumping to his feet. Pure rage was blotting out the pain and pumping adrenaline through his weak body. His injured left fist lifted into a heavy arc, swinging straight up towards her surprised face.
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Lucy's eyes widened as Gabriel grabbed the blade with his bare hands.

They widened still as a fist slammed into her face. A few things in her face cracked; a pearly white canine snapped, and her perfect button nose swiveled and broke. It didn't even hurt that much.

"Asshole!" She snarled, spitting blood from her mouth as more ran down her face, besmirching her delicate beauty with hateful crimson. She twisted the handle of the szabla, pulling it as hard as she could to get it out of Gabriel's hand.

She wasn't going to lose to Gabriel. Not again.

Lucy was done playing nice, done being sweet and needy and kind and naïve.

Now she was out for blood.
TV2: Died, Didn't Do


SC2: Attempt Number Deux
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Talk too much."

A loose growl, the barest communication that he'd give. He wasn't losing himself this time. He was focused, driven forward by a coalesced desperation that boiled through his blood. The sword twisted in his hand, but he held on, just for a moment. He'd be in trouble if-when-he survived this, but that didn't matter.

All that mattered was burying this bitch.

Fingers loosened around the blade and he lurched side-ways, moving away from her inevitable thrust. His head lashed forward, ramming into her skull with a satisfying crack. Then did it again. Hammering against her as his free hand wrapped around hers, digging his nails hard into her flesh around the sword's handle. Little rivlets of blood dripped down as he tore into her, joining the stream across the floor that had leaked from his hand. The bleeding hand curled up and smashed into her elbow with as much force as he could muster, aiming for that sickening crunch as it reeled back and fell in for another blow.
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"Fuck you!"

Lucy felt a huge heavy force slam into her temple and she grunted, dazzling lights blinding her. Then another hit, and she reeled.

Lucy felt him grab her and dig into her skin. She gasped as the pain, sharper and realer than before, flooded over her. She lost focus for a second, maybe from blood loss and maybe from the pain and maybe from the headbutt.

Whatever it was, it ended a second later. Then she fought back.

As he smashed her elbow, Lucy instinctively moved in the way she'd always hoped she would should she be attacked. Her left leg swung up, and she felt it connect with Gabe's balls. As his grip loosened, Lucy reared back and slammed her unbroken elbow into his face.
TV2: Died, Didn't Do


SC2: Attempt Number Deux
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One moment he was slowly gaining the upper hand, working to snap her over extended elbow and get her to drop that goddamn sword, and the next there was a searing pain focused in his crotch. An errant foot and slipped past him, drawing a sharp hiss from beneath his teeth as he reeled.

His world went white in an instant. It felt like his nose was broken. He had no idea what hit him, but it hurt like hell. The pain made him stumble backwards and blink rapidly, trying to bring his vision back through the stinging tears.

With a desperate yowl he sprang forward again. His bleeding fingers raked up, spraying drops of blood into her eyes and digging his nails into her face. Simultaneously, his left hand wrapped around the blade of her sword and tugged, trying to tear it from her grasp.
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Lucy thought she had him. She really did.

Then his fingernails raked her face, and she gasped, instinctively raising her arms to protect her face.

She felt him slash her forehead, her cheeks, and all she could do was pray to god he didn't blind her. It didn't even matter at this point; the blood soaking her face was doing the job. She wasn't sure if the warmth was tears or blood or snot running down her face and filling her mouth. All three probably.

She shoved him away with outstretched palms, but a moment later, she felt the blade wrenched from her grasp. The precious sword, the only advantage she had, her only chance.

Gone.
TV2: Died, Didn't Do


SC2: Attempt Number Deux
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Gabriel jumped back with Lucy's shove, glad for the distance. The handle of the blade found his left hand, then his bleeding right.

This was it.

This was all he needed.

With the last of his strength, he let out a wild howl and dove forward, both hands wrapped around the handle tight as he pushed it in front of himself, aiming to bury it into Lucy's chest before she could recover from his blood in her eyes.

Dim light caught the blade, highlighting his blood across its tip. In an instant, it disappeared, crimson rivlets betraying the sanguine flood just barely restrained behind its cold edges.
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Lucy felt the blade enter her stomach, right under her sternum.

She hadn’t screamed this whole fight, but now she did. A horrid, piercing shriek filled the room, high and wailing. She screamed, and froze in place clutching her chest and gazing at the sword poking out cartoonishly.

She screamed again, agony filling the wail this time, the shocking cold steel replaced with horrible pain that should not should not should not be so deep inside.

Lucy started panting in between screams. Pant, pant, scream. Then she fell to her knees, panting. She looked up at Gabriel, her murderer. Her tears had washed away the blood, and her vision was clear. She panted, more pained and strained now, but couldn't say anything.

Time felt slowed in the now silent room. She couldn't speak, and he said nothing either. Lucy could tell she was dying; her body was shutting down, and she could do nothing. She couldn't even muster the strength to pray, because she knew. It wasn't going to work; ironically, only in death could she know what she'd tried to forget all along.

She'd never stood a chance. Not a snowball's chance in hell. She was dead from the start. She might've made it far on her friend's coattails, but was she, at her core, capable of winning? No. And now she knew it.

Lucy let out a wrenching, wheezing sob, and her body tipped sideways into a pool of blood, her lush blonde hair sticking to her face and the cold tile floor by way of a sanguine pool, her face frozen in agony even as her life slipped away.

IS3: Lucy Williams
Deceased

66 Students Remaining
TV2: Died, Didn't Do


SC2: Attempt Number Deux
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Blood.

Blood and pain.

Crawling.

The rustling of a zipper.

Fade to white.

Blink.

Awake. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out. Somehow he'd managed to tend to most of his wounds before passing out, it seemed. His right hand was now covered in gauze and medical tape, and there were bandages over his nose. It ached so much that he could barely move, but he was alive.

Unlike Lucy. She was near him, lying in a crusty pool of slowly blackening blood, the sword that she'd brought against him still impaled through her stomach.

Not his fault. Hers. She could have left. Could have wandered off on her own and let him rest. He didn't want to hurt her. Why couldn't she have just fucking walked away?

Nobody could blame him for this. He'd warned her. Tried to make her go. She stayed because she wanted to kill him. She was the monster, not him. Never him.

Never.

A flash of red throbbed behind his eyes as he rose and stumbled over to her. Injured hands gripped the handle of the blade and tugged it free, spilling more caked blood out from her sternum. As he pulled, she rolled to the side, exposing that pretty, judgmental, smug face. Violence and death had ruined her beauty. It was spattered with spots blood vaguely reminiscent of small, angry raindrops, and marred with tight, haphazard scratches.

Good.

Gabriel collected her bag, still open from when he crawled to it to mend himself, and shuffled back to his own spot in the corner. He sat there, staring at the corpse of the girl who tried to kill him.

Not my fuckin' fault...
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((Erik Lowell: Continued from We All Look So Perfect))

Erik's reasoning for heading towards the tower had been simple. As the largest and most noticeable landmark on the resort, people would probably flock to it, highly increasing his chances of encountering a teammate, or at least someone interesting to talk to. He had taken his gun back out of his pack shortly after leaving Dougie, though it was of course still unloaded.

It didn't take long for Erik to realize that he wasn't likely to find much friendly conversation there, as evidenced by the broken corpse of Taylor DeVasher. Erik barely even knew the guy, but it was still incredibly disheartening to see a classmate dead so soon. He averted his eyes and hurried into the tower. No sense dwelling on the dead when there were still so many people who were alive, right? Unnerved as he was by Taylor's corpse, he couldn't let that get in the way of his investigation!

Unfortunately for Erik, the tower's lobby did not have anything more pleasant in store for him. Lucy Williams was lying on the floor, with a gaping stomach wound and a face marred almost to the point of unrecognizable, and undeniably very much dead. Erik had never been very squeamish, but he still had to resist the urge to vomit as he was faced with his second dead classmate in almost as many minutes. Lucy, from the little he had interacted with her, had always been a perfectly friendly person, and it was hard to imagine that anyone would want her dead.

Erik was about to cut his losses and get out of the tower before he ran into whoever had done the foul deed, before realizing that he wasn't alone. He flinched back slightly as he saw Gabriel Munez slumped in the corner, battered and obviously in a foul mood. Erik swallowed nervously. Sure, Grabriel wasn't the friendliest guy around, and sure, he sort of had an anger problem, but that didn't mean he was the one who killed Lucy, right?

"Um, uh, hello, G-Gabriel." Erik stammered, stepping back a bit, making sure he could quickly get out of the lobby if need be. "D-don't worry, I'm not looking for a fight or anything." He avoided the deceased elephant in the room, not wanting to potentially set Gabriel off.
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