Chapter 17: Rest Period Part 2

9:12 A.M. Day Eight

First Floor

Dining Hall

Sabishī had decided to hang out in the Dining Hall after breakfast. She wanted some time to herself, outside of her room, and the Sanctuary or Billiards Room didn't seem like the right spot.

She was standing over the table, staring at her own barely-visible reflection in the polished wood, when the group's self-appointed leader walked in.

"Hello Sabishī." Victoria called out cheerfully. "What's up?"

"Oh, uh, nothing much." Sabishī responded, looking back down at the table.

"Certainly doesn't sound much like nothing." Victoria noted, concerned about her friend's downcast nature. "C'mon, what's wrong?"

The Undertaker was silent for a moment, thinking. Finally, she looked over at the other girl. "None of us are to blame for the murders, right?"

"o-Of course not, obviously!" Victoria answered, shocked that was even coming up.

"Or about Logan and John getting executed?"

"The only people to blame are the people who insisted on the execution, and the people that attacked them in the first place." the older girl declared firmly.

Sabishī was quiet another moment longer, staring down at the table once again. Then she looked back up. "So, is it wrong to feel guilty over something, even when you rationally know you're probably not to blame for what happened?"

"... To be honest, I've been wondering about that for sometime now." Victoria admitted, sitting down on the table and crossing her legs. "Even before this game, I guess I've dealt with, survivor's guilt." She looked up at the younger girl. "How did you live through the Tragedy, if I can ask?"

"Hid in a cemetery's morgue." She explained. "Got far more comfortable in there than is probably healthy. I was still living there when I was kidnapped for this game."

"See, that's the sort of thing I'm bothered about, the first part I mean - okay the rest is- you get what I mean!" She waved it off. "You had to live in a bloody morgue during the Tragedy. Me? I got to live in a moderately well-furnished bunker, practically rode out and ignored the Tragedy with my parents while everyone outside suffered." She sighed, looking downcast herself. "Someone's already told me I shouldn't feel guilty about getting to survive unharmed, but still..."

After a moment of silently contemplating that, Sabishī spoke up. "Well, I don't hate you for surviving, if that helps. Heck, from the sound of it, Kelley apparently got to basically miss the Tragedy entirely; the fortunate side-effect of living somewhere so isolated, it seems. I'm just happy to hear she wasn't badly affected."

"Right, well ..." Victoria shook herself, "Enough about me, back about you. Do you blame yourself somehow for the people that died?"

Sabishī said nothing, merely looking down once more and nodding morosely.

"Well, I don't think you're to blame at all." Victoria reassured. "We did all we could, and anything else was out of our hands. Just try and remember that, okay?"

Ruminating on what was said for a moment, Sabishī finally nodded, her face and body losing some of its tension. "Easier said then done, but I'll try."

"Good to here." Victoria smiled.

Smiling herself for a moment, Sabishī suddenly recalled something. "Oh, wait, I meant to ask: what are you doing in here?"

"Honestly, I was still feeling a bit peckish after breakfast and was thinking of grabbing a light snack." Victoria admitted.

"That sounds pretty good, actually. Can I join you?" the younger girl asked.

"Sure." Victoria declared, uncrossing her legs and standing up. Smiling, they made their way to the kitchen.

10:34 A.M. Day Eight

First Floor

Art Gallery

Kelley stood at the door to the Art Gallery, trying to stop her hands from shaking.

You c'n do this, Kels. She told herself, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Y'owe it t'y'rself an' others t'get these answers.

After psyching herself up, she breathed in deeply and made her way into the gallery.

Kelley found Mackenzie hanging up her latest painting, John being eaten by the plant. The Curator turned at the sound of footfalls.

"Oh, welcome." Mackenzie smiled. "Have you come for-"

"No, sorry," Kelley interrupted, "I'm here about som'thin' other than your art t'day."

The European's demeanor predictably lost some interest. "Oh, ok. What about?"

"My friend. Eris Stone."

Immediately, a look of surprise flashed over the Painter's face before she reigned in her features, setting them back to dulled neutrality. Not that it mattered; she'd given Kelley what she expected to find.

"So y'did know 'er." Kelley sighed, clenching her fists at the confirmation. "She was in th'last game, then, wasn't she?"

"w-What if she was?" Mackenzie stammered. "What do you c-"

"Tell me wha' happen'd t' Eris." Kelley demanded, looking Mackenzie in the eyes. "... Please."

There was a moment of silence as the two girls stared each other down.

"... she died. Same as everyone else in that damned game." The Painter admitted, breaking eye contact. "Honestly, she should've let us all die to the Minotaur."

"... Oh." Kelley looked away, downcast. "... I-I susp'cted as much, bu' still..."

"Yeah." Kenzie responded, looking down at her shoes. She looked back up quickly, recalling something. "d-Did you know about Athens? What really happened?"

Kelley was silent for a moment. "... It was th' night aft'r we 'eard th' Hope's Peak Game 'ad end'd, tha' the Tragedy an' Despair were startin' ta die down. I'd been havin' trouble goin' ta sleep an' wen'ta get a midnight snack. On m'way to th'kitchen, I 'eard Eris cryin' in 'er room and went t' check on 'er. After some cryin' and some prodding, I got'er ta admit the whole story."

"Everything?" The painter asked skeptically. "Did you know how she really felt about-"

"I saw th'look on'er face tha' nigh' she confessed." The Banshee interrupted. "I tink I knew b'fore she did, actu'lly. Still di'nt care. She was my friend, an' I hers."

The Painter looked surprised at the girl's devotion, then chuckled. "Heh. And you were quite the loyal one, it seems. Letting her stay, even after everything."

"She was a good person," Kelley defended, "put inta a horrible position, and -" She stopped, suddenly looking terrified. "w-What happen'd to 'er sist'rs? Or my Ma?!"

"Last I checked, they're actually fine." The Painter reassured her quickly. "Only my game had any hostages in it, and Eris's sisters weren't amongst them (thankfully)."

Kelley breathed a sigh of relief at that, placing a hand over her chest as her heartbeat returned to normal.

"... So, now what?" Kenzie asked, nervously fiddling with her arm bandages.

"... Tell me ev'ryting tha' happ'ned. Please." Kelley asked.

"Are you sure?" The Curator asked, concerned. "It's not pretty. And gets pretty psychotic at points; heck, we ended up in a simulation of the Titanic at one point."

"I don' care." The Banshee responded (not even bothering to process the Titanic thing). "I want ta know."

"... Ok, suit yourself."

So, with great reluctance, Mackenzie began to tell Kelley about what happened in the previous killing game.

At the doorway, unnoticed by the girls, someone walked away.

11:07 A.M. Day Eight

First Floor

Common Hall

Brooke was relaxing on one of the couches in the Common Hall when she heard a door open. Looking up, she saw Alexis leaving her room. The Brazilian saw the Floridian and stopped.

"Olá," Alexis commented, slinking forward. "What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing of consequence or interest. And none of your business either way." Brooke responded, draping an arm over her eyes.

"Really?" The other girl smirked, stopping at the foot of the couch. "I find myself curious all the same."

"Well that's not my problem, so..." The Floridian trailed off.

"What, if I may ask, did I do to you to provoke this response?" The Brazilian questioned, sitting on the arm of the couch. "I can't think of anything particular that I've done against you."

"Your attitude in general hasn't done you any favors." Brooke groused, silently debating whether or not to kick the other girl off the couch.

"Hmm. Hardly much of a reason, I'd think."

"Just pointing that out. I'm pretty sure the others think the same." Brooke moved her arm off her face.

"That's the opinions of others." Alexis dismissed. "I've no problem with them."

"Alright, well explain this to me." Brooke stood up from the couch, facing the Brazilian. "What exactly are you and that Alchemist up to?"

Alexis quirked an eyebrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Brooke scoffed. "You think I don't know there's something going on with you two? That you happen to be interacting so much? I've seen the way you two look at each other whenever you're in the same room."

Alexis remained dismissive. "So he can recognize flawless beauty. That's no need for jealousy."

"Not even close to my reasoning." Brooke groused. "And I really doubt that 'flawless beauty' has to do with his reasoning."

"Well, I guess you'd have to ask him." Alexis smirked, crossing her arms and legs.

Growling lowly, The Floridian countered. "Okay, what about this. I heard him escort you to the Common Hall last night. You two were talking about something."

"So we passed by each other as I approached the hall and he decided to taunt me as he usually does with others. It was simple coincidence, nothing more."

Brooke looked her in the eye. "Then what do you actually think of him?"

Alexis was quiet for a moment, holding the other girl's gaze without flinching. "It's none of your business either way."

Brooke glared at her, seeming to have nothing else to say.

"Well, if the interrogation's done, I think I'll head off now." The Brazilian stood up from the couch. "Adeus, cadela."

Turning on her heel, Alexis strutted off, to do who-knows-what.

Brooke clenched her fists, remaining silent.

She'd lied a bit when she spoke to Victoria in the Study the other day. She couldn't say it out loud - she didn't really get it either - but she knew exactly why she was so wary of the unnerving Brazilian.

She smelled wrong.

Like rusted copper.

2:49 P.M. Day Eight

Outside

Pool

Teresa lay by the pool, lounging on a towel she'd taken from her room, her wings spread to the sides and her dress moved enough to show slightly more skin than usual. She had decided that letting the pool go to waste was a travesty and decided to address that in some manner. While she didn't want her clothes to get wet (and did not want to see what would happen to her wings under all that water), she could still enjoy a poolside afternoon.

She noticed Eric approaching, looking around (almost seeming to avoid looking in her direction once he'd noticed her).

"Well hel~lo, Mr. Smith," The Sphinx purred, crossing her (sandal-less) legs as she did so. "What brings you here this afternoon?"

"Just exploring, I guess." The Cryptozoologist explained, still keeping his eyes mostly averted.

"Mmmm. And what, may I ask, were you planning to 'explore' around here?" Her smirk was punctuated by the fang sticking out of one side of her mouth.

"... Nothing in this area, currently." He responded, pointedly.

"Hmm, a pity."

After a moment of silence as he looked over the vine-covered mansion walls, Eric asked, "So, what's your story?"

"Oh, I've always been amazing," Teresa boasted, "this AUP business just made me even better."

"Is that right?" He asked, somewhat skeptically.

"Of course." She sat up, flaring her wings out behind her. "Do I seem like I'd lie about having a wonderful life? I only got into the AUP because I'd settle for nothing less than the absolute best." She declared arrogantly.

He had trouble believing that, and considered saying as much.

That's when he noticed.

There were scars running along her inner thighs.

Most of them looked old.

"What happened there?" He whispered.

Teresa's eyes widened as she realized what he was looking at.

"None of your business!" She yelled. She moved her dress, hiding her legs quickly.

"h-Hey hey," he held his hands up defensively, "I just wanted to -"

"What?! Enjoy seeing someone's weakness, is that it!?" She demanded, angrily.

"No, no," he insisted, "I'm just concerned about what I'm seeing."

"Well what is it to you?!" She questioned/argued, standing. "What do you even care?" She looked down in the pool. "Who ever actually cares for -" she stopped herself, fists clenched. She left quietly, wings wrapped around herself like a shield.

Eric remained in the Pool area, left in thought.

3:57 P.M. Day Eight

Second Floor

Trophy Room

Clarisse and Gary were doing another sweep of the Trophy Room.

"Why was I brought along again?" The Egyptologist asked.

"Because I needed a second set of eyes here." The Markswoman explained.

"Ok, but why are we searching this room again? Someone already checked here the other day."

"Alexis and Teresa were the ones that looked through here before, and honestly? I don't trust either of them." she admitted.

"Wha- Why not?"

"Call it a hunch, call it intuition, call it a bad conversation with Alexis when we first searched outside, I just do not get anything resembling a good vibe regarding the Aztec-focused mythologist." Clarisse explained.

"Technically, she covers everything from Mexico down, but I get what you meant." Gary added (not very helpfully). "And what about Teresa?"

"More of the same, though it's less subtle with her." she elaborated, using the toe and heel of her boot to nudge at the edges of the fireplace. "And since it was just them and the Alchemist who came here, I want a second opinion of what's what in this room."

"Well, have you found anything out of the ordinary?" He asked.

"Aside from the stuffed humans and the sarcophagus that - going by the skittering sound from within - probably still has scarabs in it?" she sighed. "No, admittedly, not so much, though I still think we should do something about the mounted weapons. We don't need a repeat of the mess with the common hall armor." Suddenly recalling something, she rounded on the Egyptologist. "And before you try and bring up my knives again, know that a boot-heel of any size to the upper knee is painful."

Gary gulped. "n-Noted. Though regarding the wall weapons, I'm not sure what we can do to get rid of them all."

Clarisse turned back to the trophy cases, looking over the stands. "Well, you have me there, I'll admit." She ran her hands over the stands, looking for anything of note. "Maybe dumping them in the Conservatory will help. Bury them behind a wall of lethal plant life."

"Maybe." Gary mumbled, unsure.

They continued searching, though ultimately found nothing particularly noteworthy. They also didn't get around to moving any weapons that day.

4:26 P.M. Day Eight

First Floor

Library

Elle was in the library, perusing through books about dinosaurs (and possibly prehistoric plants) in an effort to keep herself busy.

She looked up at the sound of the door opening loudly. Shawn had shown up, and was approaching her, looking angry.

"You and I need to have words." He said, crossly. "What the heck were you doing, telling people about me?!"

She was surprised, but recovered quickly. "s-Sorry, I, I didn't think it would be a problem, honestly."

"Yeah, well, it is." He answered, anger seeming to grow. "I don't like my past being pried into, alright?!"

She was starting to get nervous now. "i-I'm s-s-Sor-ry -"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, dammit!" He roared, towering over her. His eyes were definitely glowing.

"Is there a problem?" Saino demanded, suddenly standing behind the scarecrow menacingly.

Shawn turned, caught of guard by the draconian librarian.

"I'd recommend you avoid raising issues with anyone around my domain." She continued, staring the straw man down.

There was a moment of tense quiet, before Shawn backed away from the Paleontologist and Dragon. He huffed. "Whatever, just," he turned back to Elle, "don't go blabbing about me anymore."

He stalked off, exiting the room as quickly as he came.

Satisfied, Saino turned back to Elle. "Are you unharmed, human?"

The Paleontologist nodded, trying to calm her nerves. "y-Yes. Physically, anyway."

The Dragon nodded. "Good. The last thing I want to see is any damage done in this library." She returned to her desk, tail wagging lazily.

Calming herself down, Elle went back to her reading.

9:58 P.M. Day Eight

Outside

Forest

The clearing had (for the most part) been excised of any assorted outdoor detritus. A protective circle had been carved up around the area, keeping any wildlife - natural or otherwise - away for the night. A large cage stood empty, already locked up and with the appropriate symbols etched inside.

At the center of the clearing lay the slightly rotting body of Harris Tavorian, the Ultimate Bad Luck. For a body that had been crushed by a chandelier and left unburied for a week (and might have been ravaged in some manner by the gremlins, the legs were looking a little torn up in places), it was surprisingly intact. It would serve its purpose.

Standing on one side of the corpse - and the ritual circle it lay in - was the Ultimate Alchemist, Kinsei Momota, cane clutched in his hands. Standing opposite him was Alexis Gold, Ultimate Latin-American Mythologist; one hand was on the hilt of her knife, the other was clasped over her nose and mouth as she tried to withstand the smell.

"Ugh, it stinks." The Brazilian complained. "Wasn't there a fresher source that could've been used?"

"Sorry," The Alchemist responded, unaffected by the smell, "but you'd called dibs on the opera phantom, and a plant ate the botanist, so..." he shrugged, "we had to make do. I mean, we could use a live human, but such a ritual can be excrutiatingly painful. Since all that screaming might attract attention - and be blindingly annoying - I'd rather we not bother." He looked over at her. "And have you really never been around a rotting corpse before?"

"I tried to avoid staying to long near such things, actually." The woman explained, glaring a little at the man.

"Yeah, okay, fair enough, I guess." He shrugged. "But back to the task at hand. Shall we?"

Nodding, Alexis kneeled down, pulling out her knife while Kinsei twisted the top of his cane; it came loose, revealing a thin silver knife blade. Placing aside the cane, he held the knife over the sacrificial material.

"And there will be no problems as is?" The Brazilian asked.

"None whatsoever, I promise." Kinsei reassured her. He looked over the subject. "Technically, I'll admit, it's frowned upon, even taboo, to use humans, living or dead, as fuel for an alchemical ritual." He stabbed his knife into the body's torso, beginning to draw the necessary symbols. "As I'm sure you can guess, I don't actually care about such things."

"Quite." She stabbed the body as well.

Following his exact instructions from earlier, she carved the symbols along the other side of the body. It was careful work, even without trying to avoid getting blood on herself (that, admittedly, was more personal preference than anything else, but still).

Eventually, they were done. "Now what?" She asked.

"Now," he stated, eyes fixed on the sacrifice, "you move back and keep that knife at the ready in case we need it."

She obliged, looking around to make sure the clearing was still vacant.

He held his blade over the subject and bowed his head, unmoving. She could hear him muttering something to himself. A chant.

Its purpose became clear shortly.

The symbols across the body and circle began to glow. Skin and fabric began to burn and dissolve.

She could feel the magical energy brimming across the clearing, could practically smell the force bathing them both as the ritual played out.

Then, it was done.

In a flash, the body disappeared, burnt away as matter to be transmutated.

There was a moment of silence.

Then the cage started shaking from the creature that now resided within it.

Immediately, the two humans collapsed forward (dropping their blades in the process), exhausted by the power they had been exposed to (that and the adrenal rush).

"Uau, que pressa!" The Brazilian breathed out, nearly overwhelmed by the power that had surged through the area. "Isso ... that felt amazing." She clutched at her chest as the high calmed.

"Tanoshīdesu yo ne." The Alchemist agreed, calming faster due to his prior experience with the process. "Just try to keep your breathing steady -" there was more shaking and growling from the cage, "- and ignore the cage for now, if you can. Nothing's getting out of that without my say."

"Got that part, sim."

Things were silent for a time, barring the cage and their own breathing.

"So," Kinsei finally said, breaking the silence, "out of a personal curiosity, what is the reason for the interest in this sort of, practice?"

"... Honestly, I'm not entirely certain myself." Alexis admitted, adjusting to sit on her legs. "Though, to be honest, none of the lore of pre-Colombian Brasil was all that interesting. Isolated tribes and mass smallpox death more than anything. When my family and I started researching in Mexico and the Yucatan, however, in the very heart of the Mayans and Aztecs," she visibly shuddered from delight, "oh, it was just fascinating. The expansive lore, the temples, and just - I think that's it, actually, the sheer will to go through with killing, sacrificing so many people, willing or otherwise, for their beliefs or power or whatever, it just ..." she groaned, clutching at her necklace as she kept herself contained.

"So, did you find it exciting, or ... exciting?" He wondered, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"s-Shut up, you!" Was that a blush he could see at her cheeks?

"Hey, just wondering, is all." He held up his hands defensively, though the still-present smirk ruined the image.

She looked away, draping her hands in her lap. He couldn't confirm a blush on her face given the night and her complexion, but he was quite certain all the same.

"So, how does the Chichén Itzá refugee camp fit into things?" he asked, getting her attention again.

"I lost my parents in a Despair attack early on. Ended up at the camp. Stuff happened, and I moved on, found refuge in Cuba until the world started to calm down. Heard about the AUP afterwards and figured I might as well have a go." She explained, running a hand through her hair. "As has been established, I'm pleased by the results."

"Fair enough, and you're welcome." he responded, a half smile on his face. He looked her up and down (far slower than was likely necessary or would be considered 'proper'). "Y'know, I honestly think you could probably have made the case for being an 'Ultimate Sacrificer', or something like that. No experimentation required."

"Really?" she wondered. "Not sure that would work, honestly, seems like something that would put a target on my back."

"Eh. Hope's Peak let in an Ultimate Serial Killer, I wouldn't put it past them." He raised an eyebrow. "And if anyone bothered you about it, I'm sure you could handle yourself just fine."

She smiled. "Hm. Flatterer."

He shrugged. "Even so."

They'd been inching closer to each other while they'd been talking, not even seeming aware of it.

They were very close to each other now. Their eyes locked, deep-purple meeting chocolate-brown.

Kinsei moved first, catching Alexis' lips in his own. She greedily reciprocated.

They ran their hands down, up, across, and around each others bodies, feeling and groping everything they could.

She straddled him, legs wrapping around his waist as they thrust against each other. Her breasts pressed up against his chest, and his hands ran through her hair.

Breaking contact a moment, he shrugged off his jacket while she pulled off her tank top. Removing his gloves, he reached down and undid her belt and shorts, while she did the same for his pants. From there, they let instinct and desire call the dance.

They had a very enjoyable night.

[11 participants remain]