The Thirteenth Match

[realitymods]

Characters: Cally, Ai, Spectators
Location: The Coliseum.
Time: Two days after the last fights.
Summary: The thirteenth of the death matches.
Warnings: Character death warning.

Those who had visited the king and the liar would know by now that arguments and banter were their main method of communication. But this argument was different. As they rose from their seats, their voices lifted too, until the argument rang out loud and clear.

And for once, the king argued for life.

“—but a child, not meant for battle or for death.”

A cold laugh from the liar. “And all the others were? Why must your conscience guide you only at the worst of times?”

“This is unthinkable cruelty. Have they not wits enough to end this by now?”

“Evidently not. I know thinking isn't your strong suit, but remember what is at stake here. We cannot afford forfeit, not this game, and we haven't time to argue. We have to start the fight.”

“I will not allow this.”

“Then this is for both our sakes.” The liar fired two bullets into the king's chest, and in the moment of the king's staggering, the liar drew the king's sword from its hilt and severed the king's head from his neck.

Mercury was everywhere.

In distaste, the liar discarded the sword. He walked up to the hourglass as if he had not noticed the silver blood splattered all over him. When he smiled, he smiled as if he had not just beheaded a man. And he spoke as if he did not announce something terrible. “Callindora Alynn. Ai Haibara. I'm so sorry.”

The hourglass started counting out the seconds, and the liar knelt by his king's side, sorting through his deck of cards.

Comments

[asmallamoroso.livejournal.com]

She stood there as if this was just like any other day. Hands resting in the pockets of her jeans, the blue turtle-neck sweater matching her sneakers. Based on appearances alone she maintained the childish-look and carried no visible weapons. All that she had within her possession was a very small tin she clutched tightly in her right pocket. Inside rattled a single pill that she planned on taking-- a modified version of the APTX 4869 that would guarantee the original function it was initially intended for.

Her expression was as calm as ever even if her own thoughts were a whirlwind in it of itself. Depending on how this would end, Haibara had the suspicion that her safety measures she secured back home were necessary. One could never be too careful when it came to the prospect of death knocking at your door. An idea the girl was far too familiar with. And for someone who spent her life, now, running and hiding from her past, she managed to find the will power needed to face her future head on in this one brief moment.

I'll come back, she reminded herself as she gripped the tin again. This isn't running away. I couldn't allow Kudo to risk himself against Vermouth so this is entire situation is out of the question. Granted she had really had no grand delusions of justice or even any desire to get involved in matters like this. It didn't sit well with her already guilty conscious though to have someone die in order for her to live.

Closing her eyes, Haibara could picture Akemi's face from the last time they spoke before the last of Shiho Miyano's life was stolen from her. Maybe I'll be able to see you, onee-san.

A twitch of a smile lasted for just barely a second before she opened her eyes again to face the other woman.

"I had said before that you won't have to make a decision about this match and I intend to keep my word."

[bytwo.livejournal.com]

She's late.

Stomach twisting and twisting, she's late and she didn't mean. She's here.

She has a seat in the coliseum, a seat - a bed. Not long after she'd tried to sit down, she lay down instead, shoulders tense and fingers curled into fists, hard enough that her nails dig into her palms. Her eyes shut and open erratically, sometimes hiding her head behind her arm - like hide and seek, can't find can't watch. She's here for (Cally), she's here and she's - analyzing, watching the openings. Pressure applied here. A blow to the neck there. Estimated time of death 4.8 seconds.

A recurring loop of 4.8 seconds, over and over and she didn't want to be here, doesn't, shouldn't have come, came for Cally. To see Cally, before, in case. In case she goes and doesn't come back.

[artiscordis.livejournal.com]

A surprise guest had come to view this match, having heard it was coming. Argentine was perched on the lowest possible bench, closest to the field to watch. His arms hung down between his knees and his head was cocked slightly to the side as he watched and tried his best to listen. Even then, humans spoke volumes in their posture, in their movements, in the very feeling that circled them.

He knew them both to an extent. They were friends of his Creator. He also knew this would upset his Creator and hoped that he would not come to this match. While Argentine was still groping blindly in the darkness of emotions, he knew enough that this would be horrible on his Creator. Satoshi. Argentine idly considered giving him a hug after this match. Both Rose and Cally seemed to support them.

For now, however, he was content to watch, face blank as the two discussed the possibilities before them. More emotions he didn't quite understand, such distress and sacrifice. Yet he felt an ache inside of him that was unexplainable at realising one - or possibly both - would soon lay broken in the dirt.