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Entry tags:
now would you pray before you twist the knife?
Fandom: Original
Character(s): Amaya & Zvei
Word Count: 1,236
Summary: It's Thursday night, and they both have plans.
Notes: I was absolutely POSSESSED after talking murdergame shop with Sable and this happened?? I'm sorry?? Amaya is Sable's OC, of course, and I don't know how to write her but that is not a surprise!! I hope you enjoy my attempt anyway!
It has been five weeks in this place. Five weeks away from Fefello Caelum. Five weeks away from her people and Aneirin.
Five weeks of watching people kill, point fingers at one another, take the moral high ground, and play this game. Their numbers have dwindled significantly from the thirty they started with. They are still no closer to finding a way out or a way to return home.
Amaya knew there was no other option, but some part of her - the part that was once a normal (semi-normal?) girl, who dared once believe in a better world - had wondered if perhaps there was some other way forward. There isn't. She's certain of that now, and even more with this week's "incentive". Kill someone, or your worlds will be destroyed.
Perhaps it would be fitting, were her world to be destroyed. Perhaps a better person would feel guilt about such a thought. But she cannot allow Fefello Caelum and its people to fall, and so she is forced to act.
Her room is the last one in the hall, located closest to the foyer and the other rooms of this carefully-maintained fort. Even now its unfamiliar magic pricks at her senses, filling her with an unease that still sets her on edge, even after so long here. Or perhaps that's merely the presence of another person at her door.
Zvei stands there, head canted slightly to the side as he watches her door from across the hallway. The irritating man has been following her even more insistently as of late; perhaps he's sensed her frustration with this motive, or perhaps that's his agitating proximity at play. Regardless, here he is.
"Miss Amaya!" He says in a tone that mocks surprise, never actually approaching anything genuine. "What are you doing leaving your room so late?"
She fixes him with a flat look. "Must I spell it out for you? There's only one reason to be out this late on Thursday night." She isn't in the mood to play around. There's no sense in pretending otherwise - she will own her sins, including this one.
Zvei's expression shifts just the tiniest bit, from feigned surprise to curiosity. "I thought the motive was weighing heavily on you." He says, sounding far too proud of himself for so simple an observation.
She allows him to have it. There's no sense in admonishing him for it, for he will undoubtedly try to turn it into a game, as he always does. "Do you intend to stop me?"
He's caught the challenge in her words, it seems. He raises a hand to his chin, black painted nails tapping at his lower lip in thought. "No," He finally says, as though it was a decision he had to come to rather than something he undoubtedly must have already considered.
Amaya doesn't wait for him to continue, if he even has more to say. Considering it's Zvei, he likely could keep going for quite some time, were she to allow it. So she doesn't; she marches toward the dining hall to do a sweep of the fort. She will target someone who is out and about this late at night, and that will be that. Should no one be out, then she will be forced to choose her victim; something she would prefer not come to pass. Though she is resolved to kill, there is a difference in luring someone out verses their poor luck leading them into her path. It seems there is always someone out on Thursday nights anyway.
Zvei follows at her heels. Amaya resists the urge to roll her eyes. "You intend to watch?" She asks without turning. Her heels click against the stone. She imagines driving them into his neck.
"Yes," He says simply, and she can imagine that bright, overly-intense expression he gets when he's highly invested in something. "Although..."
His footsteps still behind her, and Amaya grits her teeth. She knows he's baiting her, and she doesn't have time for whatever game he wants to play. But she turns anyway, raising an eyebrow and gesturing with a hand for him to continue.
"Wouldn't it be far easier if we were to work together?" Before she can ask for clarification, or just ask why, he's already reaching into the pocket of that oversized lab coat of his. He retrieves a simple silver dagger - a weapon from that odd vending machine. He holds it out for her to take, handle facing her.
Her mouth tightens and her eyes narrow as she studies the blade. Of course she considered Zvei. It would have been so easy to lure him out even if he hadn't been wandering around like an idiot like this to begin with. But for purely practical reasons, she can't imagine he would be easy to kill. Between his height and weight advantage, as well as those tentacles, fighting him off would be impossible. She dismissed him as a possibility outright.
And yet he offers her his blade now, and she struggles to find words.
"You don't care about this motive." She says, finally, words mired in some dark emotion she can't quite place.
"I don't," Zvei confirms what she already knows with a wry tilt of his head. "But you do, miss Amaya! And really, what could be more delightful than turning on all of them - and working together to put an end to this?"
Her eyes dart up to meet his. "You intend to kill as well?" Saying it so bluntly makes her stomach turn in knots, but there is no point in being delicate about it. They must be on the same page about this.
Zvei hums, moving to take her hands in his. He winds her hands around that dagger's handle and keeps his own on hers. His voice is low when he speaks, and it sounds dangerously close to an oath, "It will be far harder for them to stumble upon the correct answer if they assume only I was responsible for killing someone, hmm?"
Amaya's breath catches hard in her chest. There's no reason for this to be so... intimate. They're discussing murder. They're going to take someone's life - someone who doesn't deserve it, someone who is just in the wrong place at the wrong time - and yet he says it with the sort of excitement he reserves for the unknown and mysterious. Some part of her might have once been... thrilled, maybe. That he would be so interested and invested in her as to offer something like this, no matter how twisted and cruel. To be chosen like this...
But she cannot feel anything of the sort, and she feels... hollow. Empty. Her hands tighten on the dagger.
"I will let you die, if it comes to it." She warns him, staring intently at those mismatched eyes for any hint of doubt.
"It won't." He reassures her with a smile. "They have to get it right, otherwise they all die. I'll take the fall for that chance."
Ridiculous. Ridiculous, dangerous, and stupid... but she does not argue his words any. She continues to hold the dagger even when he lets go of her hands, and she can't help but think about how warm her hands are even as she leads the way deeper into the fort.
Character(s): Amaya & Zvei
Word Count: 1,236
Summary: It's Thursday night, and they both have plans.
Notes: I was absolutely POSSESSED after talking murdergame shop with Sable and this happened?? I'm sorry?? Amaya is Sable's OC, of course, and I don't know how to write her but that is not a surprise!! I hope you enjoy my attempt anyway!
It has been five weeks in this place. Five weeks away from Fefello Caelum. Five weeks away from her people and Aneirin.
Five weeks of watching people kill, point fingers at one another, take the moral high ground, and play this game. Their numbers have dwindled significantly from the thirty they started with. They are still no closer to finding a way out or a way to return home.
Amaya knew there was no other option, but some part of her - the part that was once a normal (semi-normal?) girl, who dared once believe in a better world - had wondered if perhaps there was some other way forward. There isn't. She's certain of that now, and even more with this week's "incentive". Kill someone, or your worlds will be destroyed.
Perhaps it would be fitting, were her world to be destroyed. Perhaps a better person would feel guilt about such a thought. But she cannot allow Fefello Caelum and its people to fall, and so she is forced to act.
Her room is the last one in the hall, located closest to the foyer and the other rooms of this carefully-maintained fort. Even now its unfamiliar magic pricks at her senses, filling her with an unease that still sets her on edge, even after so long here. Or perhaps that's merely the presence of another person at her door.
Zvei stands there, head canted slightly to the side as he watches her door from across the hallway. The irritating man has been following her even more insistently as of late; perhaps he's sensed her frustration with this motive, or perhaps that's his agitating proximity at play. Regardless, here he is.
"Miss Amaya!" He says in a tone that mocks surprise, never actually approaching anything genuine. "What are you doing leaving your room so late?"
She fixes him with a flat look. "Must I spell it out for you? There's only one reason to be out this late on Thursday night." She isn't in the mood to play around. There's no sense in pretending otherwise - she will own her sins, including this one.
Zvei's expression shifts just the tiniest bit, from feigned surprise to curiosity. "I thought the motive was weighing heavily on you." He says, sounding far too proud of himself for so simple an observation.
She allows him to have it. There's no sense in admonishing him for it, for he will undoubtedly try to turn it into a game, as he always does. "Do you intend to stop me?"
He's caught the challenge in her words, it seems. He raises a hand to his chin, black painted nails tapping at his lower lip in thought. "No," He finally says, as though it was a decision he had to come to rather than something he undoubtedly must have already considered.
Amaya doesn't wait for him to continue, if he even has more to say. Considering it's Zvei, he likely could keep going for quite some time, were she to allow it. So she doesn't; she marches toward the dining hall to do a sweep of the fort. She will target someone who is out and about this late at night, and that will be that. Should no one be out, then she will be forced to choose her victim; something she would prefer not come to pass. Though she is resolved to kill, there is a difference in luring someone out verses their poor luck leading them into her path. It seems there is always someone out on Thursday nights anyway.
Zvei follows at her heels. Amaya resists the urge to roll her eyes. "You intend to watch?" She asks without turning. Her heels click against the stone. She imagines driving them into his neck.
"Yes," He says simply, and she can imagine that bright, overly-intense expression he gets when he's highly invested in something. "Although..."
His footsteps still behind her, and Amaya grits her teeth. She knows he's baiting her, and she doesn't have time for whatever game he wants to play. But she turns anyway, raising an eyebrow and gesturing with a hand for him to continue.
"Wouldn't it be far easier if we were to work together?" Before she can ask for clarification, or just ask why, he's already reaching into the pocket of that oversized lab coat of his. He retrieves a simple silver dagger - a weapon from that odd vending machine. He holds it out for her to take, handle facing her.
Her mouth tightens and her eyes narrow as she studies the blade. Of course she considered Zvei. It would have been so easy to lure him out even if he hadn't been wandering around like an idiot like this to begin with. But for purely practical reasons, she can't imagine he would be easy to kill. Between his height and weight advantage, as well as those tentacles, fighting him off would be impossible. She dismissed him as a possibility outright.
And yet he offers her his blade now, and she struggles to find words.
"You don't care about this motive." She says, finally, words mired in some dark emotion she can't quite place.
"I don't," Zvei confirms what she already knows with a wry tilt of his head. "But you do, miss Amaya! And really, what could be more delightful than turning on all of them - and working together to put an end to this?"
Her eyes dart up to meet his. "You intend to kill as well?" Saying it so bluntly makes her stomach turn in knots, but there is no point in being delicate about it. They must be on the same page about this.
Zvei hums, moving to take her hands in his. He winds her hands around that dagger's handle and keeps his own on hers. His voice is low when he speaks, and it sounds dangerously close to an oath, "It will be far harder for them to stumble upon the correct answer if they assume only I was responsible for killing someone, hmm?"
Amaya's breath catches hard in her chest. There's no reason for this to be so... intimate. They're discussing murder. They're going to take someone's life - someone who doesn't deserve it, someone who is just in the wrong place at the wrong time - and yet he says it with the sort of excitement he reserves for the unknown and mysterious. Some part of her might have once been... thrilled, maybe. That he would be so interested and invested in her as to offer something like this, no matter how twisted and cruel. To be chosen like this...
But she cannot feel anything of the sort, and she feels... hollow. Empty. Her hands tighten on the dagger.
"I will let you die, if it comes to it." She warns him, staring intently at those mismatched eyes for any hint of doubt.
"It won't." He reassures her with a smile. "They have to get it right, otherwise they all die. I'll take the fall for that chance."
Ridiculous. Ridiculous, dangerous, and stupid... but she does not argue his words any. She continues to hold the dagger even when he lets go of her hands, and she can't help but think about how warm her hands are even as she leads the way deeper into the fort.