The Seventh Trial

[hot_mess_express]

Who: heroes (?)
When: Day 16, early morning
Where: the party zone

[Late in the night, the train jostles again. It feels like a Trial, but this time there's a strange, oppressive feeling in the air, and the call forth has changed. And yet it's a voice that's been heard before -- the resonant young man's voice that accompanied a military tent surrounded in white feathers.

What is a hero?

That tent is here now, imposing with its black flag and spatters of mud and blood, but the edges are tattered and the feathers strewn about are beginning to turn black. From them rises a smoke with a dark glow, sending a chill through anyone it touches.

As you enter the voice is raised again. Though still strong, it's no longer clear -- it sounds hoarse and a little distorted.]

What is your worth? What do you stand for? What... is the right thing to do?

What is Justice?

SIGNUPS ☆ RULES ☆ ROOMS ☆ WINNERS & ENDGAME

Comments

[nihilmancy]

Ah. That's good.

[Scratching harder at the painful quills.]

[ewestmarch]

Cut it - cut it out, I know you're hurting yourself.

[You aint sneaky. Emilia's going into the bag at her waist and doing first aid on the wrist that's rapid enough that she must have done this many many times for injuries - pack the cut, then wrap and wrap and wrap.]

I can fix the feathers. Give me a second.

[nihilmancy]

[Laughs reflexively, a caustic sound.]

I want it to hurt.

[And she tries to pull one of the feathers out, but she's too weak and just seems to cause herself more pain.]

[ewestmarch]

[Snaps:] I know.

[And that's frustrating. She pulls the knot on the wrap a little too tight, then goes to hug Hlasoh. No risk of the blood touching her on this side.]

[nihilmancy]

[Oh. That hug surprises her, and she stiffens up. Yes. She's let her facade crack too much already. Her pathetic nature was there for all to view, though perhaps not in as terrible terms as it could have been.

It still feels terrible, though.]

Don't worry about me. You're the hurt one.

[ewestmarch]

[Grumble:] We both got hurt. You grew feathers.

[She'll let go from the hug, though - probably has to pack this shoulder before more of it gets into her dress.]

Belated Physical Affection Bond!

[nihilmancy]

[She watches Emilia for a moment, in the same stunned daze, and she can feel something bubbling inside of her. Why is she being so conciliatory? Emilia was the one that told her to stab her, even though she was already tearing apart at the seams. She's the one that broke her.

She thinks back to incident with Crow the day before. Why does she care about this team? Why was she so committed in the last few days to leaning on them? Have they really protected her, really supported her?]

That's right. I'm hurt much worse than you are, and it's your fault. Why did I ever agree to this? You broke me. So I'm not going to take your help, or your pity.

[She unsteadily stands to her feet, an expression of raw wounded hatred on her face.]

[ewestmarch]

[Really no idea what or where this is about, so Emilia just kind of scrubs the heel of her hand over her forehead, leaves a grey smear. Blows out her breath in a long sigh.]

Thought we had a shot.

[That's all she got, really. Thought the team had a shot to win. Took it.]