Last Resort Mods 🌊 (
killerwaves) wrote in
guiltrip2023-05-28 01:50 pm
//EXECUTION; WK2
Execution
Come Sunday morning, another announcement rings out through the island, though you probably have a better idea what it's about, and of the person speaking on the other end. According to your administrators, two sacrifices per week are required, and that time has come.
Unlike earlier, the kitty bots won't force anyone to go, but they will cheerfully inform all island goers that the execution is starting soon and they shouldn't miss out! The sandbar has also reappeared, a fitting enough stage for condemning a life as well as taking one. Both your administrators are present, along with two figures directly in the middle of the amphitheater. (( OOC: Executions are voluntary except for the executed and executioner. The path back to the island will also remain for the entirety of the execution, so characters may leave whenever they wish as well.))

no subject
I have many words to speak, a dream I won't see extinguished here—at least not truly. [ One hand moves, his free one, to brush his bangs slightly askew. There is no one here who could verify what he hints at, or even see it, but that's just fine. As much as he's always been a leader, he's also known well the unique solitude such a position encompasses. ]
But I think for now, I'll start with this: The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment. This execution couldn't really hope to be a proper punishment no matter who stood here today. A sacrifice, a bloodsport, a face, it's all of these things perhaps and more, but the only person capable of punishing me is myself. [ And for that reason he opens his arms wide, letting the harpoon drop the ground. There won't be any resistance, unlike earlier this weekend. ]
no subject
dropping his weapon had made her pick up hers. if they want their drama, they'll get their drama. but it's more of a show of something towards the man in front of her, than anything else. ]
... In that, we can agree. This is no repentance — and I would never dare to think I could deliver anything of the sort. This is only business as usual where we are from, the thing you aim to change, and nothing more.
[ aim to change? aimed to change? who knows the particulars of it.
she takes a step closer, the grip around her guandao tightening. ]
I shall meet your resolve fully with my own, as I too will not extinguish. Release those many words, Sonya. I shall hear it all, for words unsaid will stifle you.
no subject
[ He reflexively lets out a breath at the shift, the only reaction he'll give to the present circumstance unraveled before him. He'll do one better and meet her, a step for a step, for he's not afraid. ]
Still, allow me to feed your flames with my dream. My dream of a world of true freedom, liberation, where the word oppression is a forgotten, archaic, one. Where the ruling class walks the earth like every other man or woman, where everyone can pursue their delights without an exchange of suffering.
no subject
A world opposite to the path many of us walk.
[ fixers are fixers. they kill for those above them, not unlike the situation now. maybe this is fitting. ]
There is nothing a human cannot overcome. I have told you this... and I do sincerely believe that, regardless of the cause. Perhaps you will wake up in the snow of the past, to continue your walk towards that future.
[ she, least of all, can discount those possibilities. ]
no subject
He grits his teeth slightly and and pushes himself forward, unwilling to allow himself to pause. ]
Hah, that makes me wonder. Perhaps I should have ran, acted with the urgency she did, but— [ What good would admitting that he was wrong be if she wasn't here, even if he could get out those words? No, he won't allow that either. ]
There is a dear comrade I have, also of District 25, at least formerly. Rodya, or Rodion. Tell her that even she's not destined to be a Leader, I still believe she can grow to be more than she currently is.
[ He won't allow those words to form on his lips, but he does begin to run at Xiao, as best as one can run into what's surely to be a raging inferno. Actions speak just as much as words, even for someone like him. ]
no subject
—no, that is what she wanted to hear most of all. the ones who will outlive him, who will come for her, or... well, who knows. but if sonya wishes for this very moment to be his end, she'll give it to him.
it's easier than she's done in the past, if only for how he seems to give into it. she's quick, and the way she pierces through his chest, through his heart, with her guandao is quicker, practiced, the flames around her bursting to life. ]
I will tell her, and meet whatever it is she deems fit to give me.
[ is all she offers, before she withdraws the weapon, leaving sonya to his fate. ]
... Goodbye, Sonya of the Yurodiviye. No one should die in a place so far from their convictions.
[ but he has, and she refuses to do the same. ]
no subject
His blind faith is one of the reasons he walks, runs, the path he has. As quick as her guandao is, he still feels the fire, the flames and all of their heat. Even he can't suppress the primal shout that escapes his throat, but at least it's short-lived.
Just like many dreams are.
He crumples to the ground with all his thoughts and ideals, coming to stillness after. Sonya is dead. ]