snowblindrpg | [EVENT] Lavender's Blue [open]

[Alfie bellows in pain, and stumbles back again, hard. He hits the ground. He's not unconscious yet, but there's no way he'll be getting up again.]

Emily, Emily--

[Jerking the shiv, Emily pulls it out and raises it above her head again with both hands.] I won't [She stabs in the same area.] let you [Lifts the shiv.] take her! [Stabs.]

I won't [Lifts.] let you [Stabs.] take the city!

[Tifa actually wasn't expecting Royce to fight back much, which was stupid of her, so his attempt to throw her off balance works. She wraps her arms around him as she falls back, trying to turn him over so she can straddle him and use her weight to keep him down, hands pinning down his arms.]

[ That, she can manage. Royce can hear Emily shouting, but he's too busy trying to fight Tifa off, kicking his feet. He keeps fighting even while pinned, but Tifa's got him stuck, and he knows it. ]

[So, once again, Tifa tries to pat him down, searching for a shiv. It's awkward and one handed this time as she keeps his uninjured hand pinned. She knows he deserves to die, and she doesn't feel bad about it, but she also doesn't want to beat him to death. Sinner or not, she doesn't have the stomach for it.]

[ Royce can hear Alfie, now - he can't see him, and he's actually sort of glad that he can't. Tifa's going to be able to find shivs everywhere, tucked in his coat and his sleeves, and they're easy enough to pull out. He's got four of them hidden away - the fifth is in Emily's hand. Royce struggles, but she's really much stronger than he is. ]

[Tifa almost seems relieved when she starts pulling the knives out, when he starts struggling but can't get away. She lays them out almost neatly beside him, and when she has enough, she turns her attention back to him, one shiv in her free hand.]

It's going to be worse if you keep trying to get away.

[She says it gently, the same way she tells him "everything will be okay" or "you can talk to me if you need to". With that, she raises the shiv up high and then drives it into his already broken hand, pinning it down.]

[ No, see - he doesn't like that tone she uses. That's the tone Tifa has when she's trying to soothe him, and he's gotten accustomed to it being something that helps, and now - now it doesn't. ]

S-stop. [ Royce breathes out, staring up at her, but - it's too late, she's already is coming down with the knife, and when it drives through the palm of his hand, he screams, the pain not enough to override the knowledge that this is familiar, that this has happened before. ]

[She just shakes her head at his pleas, looking vaguely irritated.]

I can't. You know I can't. You're always the one telling me to stand up for myself, aren't you? You're just upset that I finally caught on.

[The next shiv goes into his uninjured hand, and she shifts, keeping her weight on his hips to keep him down. She thinks she'll take a page from Emily's book—while she doesn't think she can see what's wrong with them if she sees their insides, cutting them open seems fitting somehow, seems right. She inspects the remaining shivs carefully, because she's not really in any hurry. There are other people they need to take care of, too, but Alfie and Royce are the one she's really cares about because they tricked her for so long.]

[ This time he can't muster a scream, just - a yelp and a whimper, a struggle, as the panic and pain drive his mind right out of him. He's stuck to the ground, it's just - it's just like House, like what he did to House, but he never told her. He never told Tifa how this happened, and he's sure of that. So how did she...

His breath comes wheezing and wet, but he won't cry.

He can't manage words, either. He just stares up at her, frightened, trying to desperately pull his hands up out of an animalistic urge to get free and making sharp, pained sounds at the spikes of fire in his palms. ]

Stop it. What did I tell you?

[Not that he ever listens to her anyway. Tifa picks up a third shiv, examining it for a moment. It's duller than she'd like, but she'll make it work. It just means she raises the shiv as high as she can before plunging it into his stomach.]

[ Duller means more painful, duller means it punctures messily, and messily means it hurts - it burns, and Royce screams again, writhing under Tifa. He yanks his broken hand up and manages to just make the hole bigger, gets stuck. Stop it, she says, but he's not listening, he's frantic. He's frenzied, trying to get out of her hold.

But he's weak. He's losing blood, and he hurts, and his screaming peters off into whines, pleading noises. Don't. Don't do this. Even if it's too late. ]

[There's a part of Tifa that savors the screaming, the struggling, even the blood. The shiv is dull enough that she has to saw to cut him open, and the gore gets all over her gloves, soaking through to the skin. But this is what he deserves. Nathan, Cloud, even her own death-maybe they wouldn't have happened if she had done this sooner.]

[ Sawing - she saws, she takes her time, and it's everywhere, it's all over him and her and it hurts, it's blinding. Royce can't hear Alfie except for the keening he thinks might be the gangster but he can't concentrate enough for it - he just screams himself hoarse, it comes in waves, he gasps for breath and chokes, and the blood comes up and out of his mouth, spills down his lips.

It gets to a point where he can't struggle. He loses track of his limbs and just whines on his exhales, his breath short and shallow. He closes his eyes. He will not watch his insides spill out on the floor, he knows - he knows how it looks when it's someone else and he can't. ]

[Somehow, it felt like the right thing to do, cutting him open. She's not sure why. Instinct, maybe, but this seems like the best way to correct what he's done. Now that it's over, though, she pauses, sitting back. The blood is all over the place, soaking into her jeans and making the floor slick, and she bites her lip.]

I'm sorry. I wouldn't have had to do this if you had just helped us.

[And then she leans forward to slit his throat. There's no sense in letting him die slowly when she's done what she needed to do.]

[ It's merciful. Way more merciful than what Alfie got. Royce can't see him from the angle he's at, but he'll know later. She slits his throat efficiently and he has his eyes closed, doesn't see it coming, and it's - a relief. He chokes, gurgles - the noise that comes out of him almost sounds like a thank you.

He would've let them bleed out, were things reversed.

There's so much blood, everywhere, all over. Royce drags in one last wet, gagging breath - and then goes limp. He's gone. ]

[Alfie lets out another yell - more of a scream, this time - at the first stab. It quickly degenerates into a long, low whining sound, and it doesn't stop. His hands scrabble at the ground, looking for a weapon, looking to push him up, looking for something. He doesn't find anything.]

[The white coat Emily received when she woke up is now brownish-black along the front and sleeves in the low light. Instead of raising the shiv again, she grips it as tightly as her sticky hands will allow.] There's nothing wrong with treating people the way they deserve. That's what Kesara said.

[She tries to pull the shiv down the length of Alfie's stomach from ribs to navel, but, even with Royce's shiv, it's hard to get through so much meat with so little strength.] Go--to sleep--Mister Alfie!

[The shallower cut just means that this will go slower. His skin splits, and he screams again, even louder this time. He looks down and is horrified to see that he can see his organs, thick and slimy and reddish-purple.]

[It's tough, cutting through flesh with something that isn't made for it. Later, she'll wonder exactly how so many others do it so easily, killing. How did you do it so easily, Mister Alfie, killing? Since this is what half of them felt like when you ruined their lives.

Alfie's body is too coarse. Emily has to stop momentarily, chest heaving.] I'm sorry, Mister Alfie. I'm sorry.

It's better if you're not here. [An odd, strangled breath rolls out of her.] I thought you were my friend. I'm sorry, Mister Alfie. [Even with her eyes stinging with tears, she begins again with trying to slice Alfie open.]

[He stares down in abject horror at her, and at the gore that she's making of his body. He tries to say her name - to plead, to question, he doesn't know. But the words don't come out, and his mouth moves silently - Emily, Emily.]

[She keeps repeating that she's sorry as she works, voice low and whispered. In the back of her mind, it hurts to do this, or, she thinks, she should be hurting to do this to Alfie. She should be sad. She should feel ashamed.

But she isn't, she doesn't.

The town tells her it's for the better, her eyes brown and twisted into the shape of the eyes watching them all the time.]

[The light is starting to slip from his eyes, and he lets out a keening sound. With one last surprising burst of strength, he moves a hand up to his stomach, as if he can hold his guts in.]

[Unfortunately, Emily finds she can't get the shiv to go any further down. Alfie will have to settle with having some of his stomach and most of the top of his intestines trying to crawl onto the outside.

With a jerk, she pulls the shiv out and stands up. For several moments, she stares down at Alfie with unreadable eyes.] This is what happens when you're bad. That's what happened to Miss Fiona, too. She was probably bad. Now she's dead, and you will be, too.

I could have said a prayer for you, but you wouldn't tell me what it was. [Because "we don't say prayers for people still alive," even if those are the people who really need it. The dead don't need prayers.] Goodbye, Mister Alfie.

[He's only half-aware of what she's saying. His consciousness fading quickly. The keening sound is still going on, but his eyes are clouding over. Soon, the sound will stop and his gaze will glass over, vacant and unseeing.]

[EVENT] Lavender's Blue [open]

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thread split!

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carving alfie like a turkey

IT'S SEASONAL

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