Chapter 16: Rest Period Part 1

7:00 A.M. Day Seven

First Floor

Library

The rest of that day, thankfully, passed relatively uneventfully. Ultimately, when the topic of personal files came up to everyone else, Alexis and Teresa were heavily leaning on the 'no touching the files' option, while Sabishī and Eric were more willing to look over their own at least. So, still a tie, and no file-perusing occurred (well, no one saw each other's files yet).

The following day, everything seemed like it would continue the uneventful trend. Eric, for his part, had committed to spending the whole day in the Library for research purposes. At least, that's what he'd tell whoever asked. In truth, he was there to spy on the Librarian, see what she really did all day.

So far, nothing of note. Though her choice of relaxing reading material was ... unique.

7:21 A.M. Day Seven

First Floor

Hallway

Elle was up earlier than usual and lacking an appetite. With nothing else of worth to do, she decided to roam the hallways for a bit, see if anything was worth discovering at this time.

There wasn't.

She was making her way back to the Common Hall when she ran into someone unexpected. Alexis, roaming the halls herself. And currently standing in the Paleontologist's way, a smirk adorning her lips.

"What?" Elle asked, defensively. She wasn't in the mood for anything the Brazilian might have in mind.

"Oh, don't mind me. I was just up early, decided to stretch my legs a bit, nothing nefarious." Alexis reassured her (extending a shapely leg for emphasis). An eyebrow quirked upwards. "Though if you'd like to talk, I'd of course be willing to listen."

"There's nothing I want to talk about right now. With anyone here, actually." Elle responded. She brushed back the other girl and started to move on.

"Oh, not even how you helped a murderer?"

Elle spun around, looking surprised and suddenly fearful at the girl's question. "w-What?! What are you even t-talking about?"

"It just seemed obvious to me." Alexis commented, shrugging, "Don't, try to deny it," she interrupted before Elle could speak, "We both know that when he ducked into a room after killing Adrien, it wasn't his room that he went to. The horror on your face when he confessed, it wasn't fully out of surprise, but more the fact that he was about to be captured for his actions. Actions you already were informed about. Am I wrong?"

Elle said nothing, a glare settling on her face (as much as she could, the fear was still lacing things).

"Honestly, your hair is what really gave you away." Alexis explained, pacing in front of the hall (possibly because she just liked the sound of her boots on the wood, or maybe she really was out for exercise), "It was far too dry for someone to have only just gotten out of the shower." She shrugged. "Surprised no one said anything about it, really. Perhaps they couldn't put the pieces together on their own." She stop pacing, arms behind her back and a smug grin on her face now. "Estou, errado?"

Elle remained silent, turning on her heel and stalking off back to the dorms.

Alexis scoffed to herself. "Seu idiota cego pela luxúria." Turning as well, she continued down the hall to the Library.

9:04 A.M. Day Seven

Outside

Graveyard

Kelley made her way through the graveyard, quietly looking over the headstones. If one ignored the ... well, everything about the current circumstances and location, it was actually quite peaceful, all things considered.

She certainly hoped the people here had found some measure of peace. They no doubt needed it.

As she walked, she eventually noticed Sabishī standing near the markers of the fallen participants, a shovel balanced over her shoulder.

"Hi, Sabi." She called out softly (it seemed right in this area), getting the younger girl's attention. "What're you doin'?"

"Nothing, really." The Undertaker admitted, looking back over the grave markers. She sighed, looking dejected. "And I'm honestly not sure if that should be a good thing or bad. We still don't have any of our friends bodies to bury, but on the flip side that means I don't have to bury our friends in this place." She sighed once more, lightly planting the shovel head into the ground. "And I'm pretty sure they never actually buried Harris, even if they did finally put in a marker out here for him." On that last point, she gestured to a new grave marker amongst the rest.

A flimsy slab of balsa wood with Harris's name and talent crudely written on it in sharpie marker. With a picture of a chandelier drawn under it.

Kelley didn't want to admit it, but under different circumstances, she might've found that darkly humorous.

"So, why are you out here, of all places?" Sabishī asked, turning to the Banshee. "The graveyard is hardly somewhere for people that aren't undertakers to just hang out, and even I have a reason to be here."

"I tought y'jus' said tha there were nothin t'do righ' now?" Kelley asked, confused.

"w-Well, yeah," the Undertaker admitted, "but someone needs to keep an eye on this place all the same." She jabbed at a weed with her shovel, cutting it. "So, you?"

Kelley shrugged. "T'be honest, I'm not 'ntir'ly sure m'self." The Banshee explained, moving to stand near her friend. "It's just, I felt like I should be here, or som'th'n, wanderin' ou' amongst the dead." She ran a hand through her hair. "Migh' be a Banshee ting."

Sabishī wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Huh. Still working all that out?"

"I tink I have all th'obvious stuff sort'd. Wha' this 'compulsion' migh' be I'm still sort'n' ou'."

"Well, if I can help let me know, I guess."

"T'anks."

They remained silent for a moment, each contemplating their own matters.

"So," Sabishī finally asked, breaking the silence, "you still keeping the farm plan going, or will," she gestured vaguely at the graveyard and the Banshee, "this, affect anything?"

"w-Well, I'm still set on helpin' ou' Ma, but, d'pendin' on what I could do as is," Kelley shrugged, looking down at her slightly-calloused hands, "who knows?"

"Well," Sabishī commented, attempting to lighten the mood, "if you ever want to branch out, helping the dead find peace is a lonely job for only one person to do. I wouldn't mind any helping hands."

"I'll try t'keep tha' in mind." The Irish girl responded, lip-corner raising.

rhsle rhth

They heard something. Something was moving around very close behind them.

Cautiously turning around, the girls spotted that something.

Something honestly terrifying.

A oily-black shadow in the form of a human was clawing up from behind a gravestone, red gashes glowing where the eyes should be.

Staring right at them.

"s-Sabi, y-ya see tha' too, r-righ'?"

"y-Yes Kels, I s-see it."

"a-Any suggestions?"

"j-Just one." She inhaled. "RUN!"

A good suggestion, all things considered. Neither second-guessed it.

They took off running back to the entrance, the creature chasing after them.

They tried to keep within the 'lanes' of the gravestones as best they could (they did not want to be one of those horror film characters that tripped in a chase), occasionally hoping a line over to hopefully slow the creature down.

Even so, it was gaining on them.

What to do, what to do, what to do? Kelley thought, panicking. At this rate it would catch them before they reached the gates. If only -

Kelley had an idea. It seemed ridiculous, but so did current circumstances.

She stopped, turned on her heel 180 degrees to face the creature (ignoring Sabishī stopping and calling out to her), inhaled deeply, and:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!

The shockwave of the scream was visible to the naked eye as it struck the creature, sending it flying back. It crashed through several gravestones before slamming to a stop against several more, fading away from visibility.

The girls stared in silence for a moment, Kelley panting from the effort of the directed scream.

"What ... was that?" Sabishī asked.

"The monster, or me?" The Banshee questioned.

"Uh, both, I guess?" The Undertaker replied.

"It's new t'me too, a'righ'?" Kelley defended. "I ne'er sai' I'd learn'd everyting I was abl' t'do now." She ran her hands trough her hair, straightening out the green locks.

"... Let's just get back inside."

"Agreed."

They left the graveyard without further incident.

9:52 A.M. Day Seven

First Floor

Common Hall

Victoria was standing in the Common Hall, her target - a book on Alexandria checked out from the Library - before her. Her arms were extended out to her sides. Gary was standing nearby, serving primarily as 'emotional support'.

She'd practiced further with her 'bandage-tentacles' last night in her room, and had made some actual progress on the matter. Now she could actually properly control the wrappings and release them at will (fine control still needed some work though).

What she wanted to see now, though, was if she could manifest them in the day.

Victoria concentrated, picturing the bandages appearing from her arms to wrap around the book. So far, no dice, but she was optimistic.

"You can do it!" Gary enthusiastically (but quietly, he didn't want to distract her) called out.

Gritting her teeth, she thrust her arms out, trying to will out the bandages.

... Still nothing.

She huffed, bringing her arms down. "And still bloody squat!" She stamped the ground in frustration.

Gary looked from her to the book. "No offense, but are you even certain you can physically accomplish this?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm down. "Well, it certainly seems like something they'd give me, so ..." she shrugged. "I won't be certain unless I try."

It was difficult to explain, but for some reason, Victoria could just ... feel that this was something she was capable of performing. She just needed to unlock it.

"Well then, I'm sure it's just a matter of time until this works." Gary reassured, smiling.

She looked back at the untouched book, thinking. There had to be some way to get this to work, she was sure of it.

Would it work better if she took off her gloves and rolled back her sleeves first?

... In front of Gary ...

... No, she'd make due.

"Let's try again." She said, shaking her arms in preparation. "This time, try throwing the book or something."

"Got it."

On, the plus side, they learned that the book quality surprisingly wasn't of high priority to Saino. And they got to say 'hi' to Eric.

10:23 A.M. Day Seven

Second Floor

Study

Brooke sat in the study, feet crossed on the table, going over the assorted other Ultimates listed in the files. They may have decided to not just read each others willy nilly, but it wasn't like the other people in these files were here to complain or anything.

"Samuel Botha." she read. "Brainwashed into Ultimate Despair in mid-to-late 2017, served as a genocidal butcher in South Africa. De-brainwashed by the Hope Video aired during Towa City's liberation in early 2018. Selected for the AUP in early 2020, hoping to become an Ultimate Diplomat." She looked over the boy's profile picture. "Huh, wouldn't have pegged it on the guy. Somehow, though, I doubt he got the talent he wanted." Seeing nothing else in the file, she closed the book. "Well, here's hoping he didn't make the cut for a killing game."

Moving her feet back to the floor and standing up, she went to put the book back and grab another when the door opened. In walked Kelley, the book containing her file nestled in her arms.

"Oh, hey Kels! What brings you here?" Brooke asked. Her gaze flitted down to the file-book. "Surprised you still have that."

"y-Yeah, I came t' ret'rn it. Didn't have th'chance yest'rday, so ..." She trailed off, looking at Brooke. "Actu'lly, it's good y're here."

"Oh yeah, why's that?" Brooke questioned.

Kelley walked over and thrust out the book, opened to her file. "Go ahead, read it."

This was not something Brooke had been expecting. She backed up a bit. "K-Kels-"

"There's nothin' in here I don' wan' anyon' seein'," The Banshee interrupted, "an' b'sides; I trust ye."

Touched, Brooke smiled at the Irish girl. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kels. That means a lot."

She took the book from her friend's hands.

Admittedly, for all that build-up, there was actually not much too interesting in the file. Kelley Devlyn, age seventeen. Placed into the Second Hora Island Killing Game after being made an Artificial Ultimate Banshee. Apparently from a really isolated section of northern Ireland, with her mother as her only surviving relative. At least they were too low priority to have been hit by the Tragedy, which was never a bad thing in Brooke's mind.

She looked up from the file. "Thanks again for the show of trust Kelley, but no offense; you've kinda lived a boring life."

Kelley laughed at that. "Heh, yeah, I gues'so. Most interestin' ting that happ'nd back home was th'time we took in some refugees from Athens." Her smile waned a little. "I hope Phoebe an' Helen are still okay."

"I'm sure they're fine." Brooke reassured her. Thinking a moment, she made her way to the shelves, taking down the book with her file in it. "Well, I might as well return the favor."

Kelley was surprised. "w-Wai', Brooke y'don'-"

"I insist." Brooke interrupted. "Keeps things even, and all that. Furthermore," she smiled, "I trust you, too."

Returning the smile, Kelley took the book. "'k."

11:28 A.M. Day Seven

Second Floor

Ballroom

Clarisse was running her hands along the walls near the changing rooms (having already looked in each one themselves). She had decided to check for anything that might've gone missed by the last people to search the room (given who'd been searching, she wouldn't be surprised if they'd focused on each other the whole time). In the air above her, Teresa was putting her wings to good use by checking the ceiling for anything out of the ordinary. Though currently, she'd landed on the balcony railing to rest.

"Could you at least check the balcony while you're up there?" Clarisse called up, slightly annoyed at the other girl's break.

"In a minute! Flying is actually somewhat strenuous, I'll have you know." Teresa called down from her perch, arms crossed. "There's a lot of me to carry up, after all."

"Yeah, I noticed." The Markswoman muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"I said you could still turn your head to look behind you." Clarisse responded.

"Already did, there's just a whole lot of nothing worthwhile up here. At most, there's a couple of chairs for watching any dancing down below."

"... Then why aren't you sitting in one of those instead of balancing on the railing like that?" The New Yorker asked, moving away from the wall.

"Have you seen my wings?!" The Sphinx flared said appendages out for emphasis. "I can't comfortably sit there with these things!"

"You seem fine in the dining hall!" The Markswoman pointed out as she went to the pipe organ.

"I sit in a corner and put up with it." The Greek-Egyptian explained. "Here, though? Not bothering, the chairs are too packed together for me anyways."

"Whatever." Clarisse grumbled, looking over the wall around the pipe organ. After a few moments of further wall-inspection, she looked back up. "What do you think was Adrien's deal?"

Teresa looked down, confused at the sudden topic shift. "What?"

"What was Adrien talking about when attacking John? Saying that he 'deserved' it or that he 'did' something."

Teresa thought it over. "... I have no idea, honestly. Maybe John was just embellishing the tale for some reason."

"No, that doesn't seem to fit." Clarisse argued. "John would have no reason to lie, not when he was already exposed." She thought for a few seconds, eyes shifting over the instrument he'd've likely wanted to play. "... Do you think he was manipulated somehow? Like, maybe someone passed false information to Adrien that made it look like John was 'a sick fuck', as he put it?"

The Ultimate Sphinx rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Doesn't change their end, even if someone else was involved."

The Ultimate Markswoman sighed, the lack of help annoying her. "Let's just keep searching, yeah?" She turned on her heel and made her way over to the table on the side of the room opposite the balcony.

Clarisse had her suspicions. She'd set them aside for now (couldn't risk missing something in the room because her mind was elsewhere), but sh would return to them later. No stone left unturned, and all that.

12:15 P.M. Day Seven

Second Floor

East Hallway

Shawn stalked through the halls of the second floor.

Everyone was at lunch, for once.

Meaning he could move freely.

He wasn't going to let anyone see what he wanted hidden.

The outburst in the creepy maze was enough.

He made his way into the thankfully unoccupied Study.

Deftly - he wasn't lacking in speed as he was now, less weight to slow him - he looked over the books, finding the one that contained his name.

He found his file.

He looked over the page.

The illness.
The hospital.
... Doctor Faulkan.

... All as he'd expected.

No one would read this.

He'd make certain of that immediately.

Carefully, he pulled the page out of the book, before rolling it up in a tube heightwise.

He opened his mouth.

He shoved the papery shaft past his lips to his throat.

With difficulty, he forced it down completely.

It was done; his secrets were safe.

... That probably should've been harder.

... He found he didn't care.

He made his way out of the room.

Now to hope his secret's died with everyone who'd heard them.

Somehow.

2:56 P.M. Day Seven

First Floor

Hallways

Kelley was walking down the hall to the Library, hoping to check on Eric. Sabishī had gone to make sure he was alright at lunchtime, but someone needed to make sure he stayed that way, especially if the librarian decided that he was annoying her.

Before she could get into the Library, however, someone unexpected came out the door first; Kinsei.

"Well hel-lo there, Miss Leprechaun, how's that potato famine, still making ya eat yer young?" Kinsei smirked, arms crossed over his chest.

"One," the Irish girl started primly, "the Great Hunger ended ov'r a century ago; Two, we don't grow potatoes at m'family's farm, we grow wheat and assorted other veg'tables; and Three, A Modest Proposal was written over a century b'fore the Famine, an' no'on' ac'ually took 'im up on th'offer. Try an' ac'ually get m'country's history cor'ect b'fore insultin' me ov'r it."

"..." He stared at her, expressionless.

"Also, y'made me a Banshee, not a Leprechaun. Get i'righ', at least."

"... shut up." He seemed put out.

"What're you doin' 'round here?" She questioned.

"Oh, just stretching my legs a little, checking up on the draconic librarian." He responded. "Your cryptozoological friend is still unsubtly spying on her, but at the least she - probably - won't kill him for it." He considered his words. "You should probably convince him to drop the practice though, the dragon-lady can get a little territorial at times."

That caused the nervousness to slip back in. "Uh, I'll keep tha' in mind." She moved to move past the man, only for him to move to stand in front of her.

"So, out of personal curiosity, how is life as a Banshee? You adjusting well?" he asked.

"I-I su'pose I'm, adjusting, no'tha' I had much choice in th'matter, obviously." She responded, starting to glare at him. "Though bein' insulted near const'ntly by someone in charge here do'sn't exactly help anyting."

"Hey, we all have or positions and dispositions in life." He 'defended', hands up defensively. "Besides, I'm far from the worse insulter to've been on this island. You should've seen that Cuban trash dump that came back in the last game, would tear people down verbally and physically if he could get away with it."

Knowing he'd probably elaborate anyway, she decided to just take the bait anyway. "Wha' happen'd ta him?" She was already dreading the answer.

"Died." He responded bluntly. "Had every second of it coming, trust that if nothing else from me." He seemed sincere on that point, surprisingly.

"o-Oh." She really didn't want to know anymore.

"But enough about sentient refuse piles, let's get back to you, Miss Devlyn. Where do you hope to be in a few months, assuming you can survive this game?"

"Uh, jus' wantin' t'get home, really." Kelley answered. She tried to move around him, only to get blocked again.

"Is that right?" He said. She really wanted to get away from him at this point. "And what if that wasn't an option, huh? Just for the sake of argument."

"u-Uh, i-I, I uh -"

"Ok, I think that's enough." Turning, they saw Alexis making her way down the hall. "You seem to be making the girl uncomfortable, so how about you let her by now, sim?"

"Fine. I was just teasin'." He backed away, giving her room to move.

Alexis turned to the Banshee. "I'd recommend running along now, pequenino."

Nodding her thanks, Kelley quickly made her way into the Library.

Alexis turned to the Alchemist. "I enjoy bothering people as much as the next person, but must you go threaten the nice one?"

"I wasn't bothering her that much." Kinsei defended. "I didn't even insult her inability to prevent crimes. I just implied empty threats about a homestead we never bothered touching."

"Even so, there's no need for excess on these things." Alexis insisted firmly.

"Eh, fair enough." He made his way down the hall away from the Library, Alexis electing to follow him.

They walked in silence for a few moments, before The Brazilian spoke up again.

"So, out of personal curiosity, how does being an 'Ultimate Alchemist' work?"

"Well," Kinsei explained, "have you ever seen Full Metal Alchemist?"

"No."

"Neither have I, actually, so let's ignore it." He admitted, waving his hand dismissively. "Basically, I'm the absolute best, bar none, of mastering the arts of equivalent exchange. Even beyond simply creating one thing by breaking down something else, well, you saw my seal over the door."

"I've heard of Philosopher Stones, or whatever they're called." Alexis recalled. "Can you make one of those, produce constant gold and immortality?"

He suddenly looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. "Unfortunately, that actually is a little beyond me, for now; same with all alchemists, really."

"Mmm. Some 'Ultimate'." she noted, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"Well, how does being an Ultimate Latin-American Mythologist work?" The Alchemist countered, sounding a bit defensive. "Besides the name being a mouthful."

"Wouldn't you know? You're on the team that gave us these talents."

"Dad's the one who handled that business personally, I had no hand in your talent being applied."

"So, what. He just worked on us all, alone? Unsupervised?" She was actually starting to look concerned, her pace slowing as they walked.

"No, he did not molest anyone when they were unconscious." He reassured her (sounding kinda annoyed he had to say it). That seemed to hit the nail on the head, as a look of relief crossed her face as her pace picked up again. "Trust me, if he was interested in taking an unwilling partner, he'd've come back from space with more than just more research material. You should've seen the well-endowed blonde he was cooped up with." He quickly looked her way. "Not to worry, you're still the best looking person here."

"Well naturally." She agreed, flipping a section of her hair back.

"But back to my question; what even is a Latin American Mythologist, hmm?"

She huffed, running a hand through some locks of her hair. "Well, simply put, my knowledge base regarding my field has increased from what it once was. I'd honestly thought some of the things I now know were lost to time." She chuckled. "I even understand how the Incan braiding system works, it's amazing!"

"And yet you only seem to focus on one aspect of it all." Kinsei commented.

"Well, everyone has their own preferences and the like." She defended.

"Heh, fair enough."

Things were silent a moment longer. "Well," Alexis announced, stepping away rom the boy, "if you have nothing else substantial to talk about, -"

"Actually," Kinsei interrupted, grabbing her attention once more, "I was wondering if you could help me with something." he explained.

"Hmm. I suppose, depending on circumstance." Alexis responded, seeming interested. "What did you have in mind?"

[11 participants remain]

A/N: Before anyone asks, Kelley's scream was localized and directed away from where the mansion was, so no one heard it and panicked.

And no, at the time of writing, I haven't seen Full Metal Alchemist, despite writing an Alchemist character. (I've been busy, ok?!)

Find out what Kinsei wants, next chapter!