END GAME: THE COUNTDOWN STARTS

[sailmods]

[the prisoners wake up on cold, hard floors.

the lights are bright, glaring, a sterile cell with sterile bars facing a sterile hall. the prisoners with you, across from you, and no one else. no rocking of a ship in waves, nothing. just the prisoner and their prison.

time passes, one assumes. the rhythmic click of Friday’s heels down the hall. it’s almost like the ticking of a clock.]

Comments

[littlefairytale]

Ruby doesn't try all that hard to keep the etchings of fearful concern off her face. If she could reach through the bars she'd already be squeezing Darcy's hand, but as it is she can only slide her fingertips through as far as she can.

"It only takes once. Just— don't take unnecessary risks. I-I know how that sounds coming from me, but—"

—if one more loved one dies while she's stuck on the sidelines, unable to do anything to help them but hope... if one more loved one dies while Ruby has to keep on living, has to sacrifice more of the cavity around her heart to grief, has to add one more marker to the walking memorial she's made herself... if one more loved one dies—

She thinks something inside of her is going to break beyond repair.

But to say a word of that feels selfish, and so swallows it all, and just looks at Darcy. There's still a light behind her remaining eye, even with its power locked away.

"—takes one to know one, I-I guess."

[yournewsidekick]

That pulls an actual snicker out of Nimona. A small one, maybe, and it's still thick with tears, but it counts.

"Nah, don't know that one, but I'll make up my own version." She presses her forehead to the bars again. "Hey, if you get to Malin first and bite her whole fucking face off, save me an ear?"

[goodweather]

She says, like he's ever actually managed to protect her from something.

He wants to follow her, but there's really no better illustration of her action and his helplessness than her out in the hall on her feet and him still in the cage. There's nothing he can do. Maybe--maybe he can set down, then. Just for a second.

She'll have to go eventually. She's in the hall, he isn't. Gone again. Like how he came home for a few months before getting taken here, and now he'll never see it again. Is this how Darcy felt when he left her in that stupid labyrinth? She will go, another person slipped through his grasp, and the house will be empty, and the kitchen table will be empty, and then--and then maybe he'll have never existed at all.

"Come back," he pleads. "I love you."

[saltwaterlungs]

"I will," she lies, "I promise. Je t'aime bien aussi."

From the worst of her despair. From loneliness. From the stubborn delusion that she has to do it all herself. All of it, he's kept those wolves from the door. A debt that can never be repaid. If he hadn't caught her as she fell from that most recent precipice, she wouldn't be standing now. Darcy would have given into despair a long, long time ago without him.

Darcy sits, side by side with him. Leaning her weight into the bars.

"Lorsque j'avais six ans j'ai vu, une fois, une magnifique image," she starts. She only has a few more lines in her memory, but. Maybe it'll be enough.

breakout

[decohere]

[they've been in communication distance all along, but right now is more urgent. once she's free of her own Ava gravitates toward Skulduggery's cell, fingers wrapping around bars. unable to bend them without Bastion's great but waning strength, her gaze is apologetic. that she's the one out, not him.

she's not sure how many more they'll be able to break out, before they have to move. they can't waste this chance.]

Any ideas? [Ava knows what must be done. but not how. get the Captain free. their powers back. defeat Malin. escape. which order must they complete all those steps to make it possible?]

[goodweather]

Phil leans back against the bars, still clutching her hand, head slightly bowed.

That's simply it, then. When Darcy disappears from this world, so will he.

[teethoftherisk]

Siffleur butts his head against the bars, chuckling softly to himself. "I means very much. I have two children in my world, and I was a terrible father to them. But if I could have been a lusus to them, we all would have been much happier."

[teethoftherisk]

Yes, I ran into the same problem when I talked to her before our fight. She didn't believe a thing I said to her. I thought we had a mutual respect for each other. We did not.

I believe that if we could be perfectly copied and we can exist outside of the Captain's realm, then there is a way to make it so Friday can live outside of the realm too. And there are some passengers here who are the same as animated dolls, like April or Bastion. We just need to find what it is that she needs, and I will do whatever I can to help her.

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy stumbles through all the rest she remembers, or half remembers. And then she runs out of words entirely, and Phil seems no more soothed than he was a moment ago. She isn't good at this like Phil is.

So she stays a while longer. Let her presence be enough.

[teethoftherisk]

He presses his forehead back, meeting her through the bars. "I promise. We'll maul her together."

[light_mischief]

[it's good that they're choosing cells with multiple prisoners first. he just hopes that somebody else comes up with a trick to free the rest of them as soon as possible.]

For once, Ava, I don't think I do. We don't know how much of this reality has been altered, so all I can say is to be on your lookout for anything suspicious. Who knows if Malin found out about the creatures in the shops, or if they're roaming free... [or if they're under her control.]

We also don't know the extent of control Malin has over the Captain. You and Darcy are going to know the Captain's tells best of all, so maybe you'll be able to test if you wind up running into him. He's had centuries to practice his circular logic. As long as she can't control what he wants, there will be a way to free him.

[light_mischief]

"You've got nothing to be sorry about. We're the same kind of difficult people. It's why we get along, and also why we don't." He tilts his head to emphasize his smile. "You're worth the effort. Always have been, always will be."

Darcy's right. This could be the last time they ever see each other. But his chances of survival skyrocket if he's confident in himself, and Skulduggery will do whatever it takes to instill it. That's what fathers are supposed to do.

"Whatever happens, know that I'd do it all over again."

[goodweather]

Darcy’s presence is as enormous a gift as it could possibly be, but it alone won’t save them from this. It won’t dissipate these bars or take them away from his place and find them somewhere safe to land. That’s a job for many hands, and one that, frankly, looks like he’s going to have to just wait around for.

She has to go. He has to let her go. Break his own heart on purpose. She hasn’t seen to anyone else yet, and she will have to leave the hall with whoever else has been strange enough or strong enough or clever enough to make it out.

Phil extends a (ragged, ragged) wing to brush towards himself some of the other quills he fashioned, variously smaller and thinner things with most of the barbs shaved off. Pushes them through the bars, in case they might be useful. Plucks one more, which he can’t really maneuver to tuck behind her ear from here, but hopefully the idea carries.

[saltwaterlungs]

A quiet sniffle. Every relationship he's had aboard has been some sort of work, but Skulduggery has been hardest of all. Some of his worst and best days have had him as a thread.

Worth it, though. The first person to get Darcy's feet under him, to support him in an impossible and foolish goal, and to pursue it with him, all the way down the line. Where would he be without Skulduggery? Much worse off. Down a worse path. Probably in with the rest of the mutiny chucklefucks, arguing that doing the unthinkable wasn't enough, achieving what nobody else had managed to do. In Skulduggery, he gets the assurance he didn't get from the Captain.

"Even if we fail, it was worth trying. We had to."

Another sniff.

"I will work out what you see in me. And I'll be worth the effort. I owe you everything. We wouldn't have this chance without you. I'll make it count."

[decohere]

[a nod. she also wonders about the whereabouts of the ship creatures, hopes little Ody is safe.

it's true they know the Captain better, this realm better...] There should be some sort of home field advantage to exploit.

[but nothing she's ever done has ever worked against any crisis they've faced. her confidence wavers, that she'll do everything wrong, make things worse. but she doesn't can't listen to it. she'll fail as many times as necessary if it gets them any closer to a way out. because the Captain's freedom, their future, all of it is on the line. and she wants to do whatever she can to prevent Maximilien from having to risk himself if there's another way.

there has to be another way.]

We're going to get him back, I promise. They stole him from his family once. [and killed Amma... and she hopes it doesn't take something so drastic again to free him this time] But not again. Love is the most powerful magic of all, right? [because it was certainly killing this realm that ran on trauma and misery.]

[decohere]

She laughs softly at the end of his comment, still wiping at her eyes. Each swipe of her sleeve leaves them damp all over again. Everything is sinking in, how close she is to losing everyone she loves.

"I told you he's better than anyone else estimates." Because Maximilien has always been there for her, without question, without asking anything in return.

"If it were anyone else. Maybe I wouldn't even... second guess. The offer," and so she recognizes that she's entirely selfish. But she likes Maximilien far more than most on the ship, that the possibility of losing him to save the rest feels a rather unfair bargain.

So she hopes there's other ways. Hopes people don't just rush into wishing his life away to save theirs.

[configuration_birdwatcher]

Omnics don't have cross-wired nervous systems like humans do. There's no mistaking the emotional distress they're feeling for physical pain.

Bastion steps closer to Nimona's cell; they need all the time they can get, but they don't want to be the unfeeling siege engine on legs that would ignore her completely. // Nimona, I'm opening the double cells first in case Malin interrupts. I'll return for you.

They think that's a promise they can fulfill.

[configuration_birdwatcher]

// I'm functional.

[ It's not a lie, but it's true of any condition where they can continue to act and move, so it's also not much of a reassurance. They don't want to share the exact percentage of operationality they're functioning at; it would sound worse than it is because it's including their disabled guns and self-repair system. For a Bastion unit, the ability to shoot things is as important as the ability to move, communicate, or change configurations, at least according to a self-monitoring system that was programmed for the battlefield. As such, all the reports of locomotor overheating and burnout and pressure damage and so on are competing with a critical error that hasn't stopped blaring into their internal awareness since they reinitialised in cell 130. ]

[ They step to their right, positioning themself in front of the cell next to the Starrs'. Dimitri's trained for combat; Fio is so small that she's the only human on board who doesn't register at all as a physical threat, but she's Sparkles' best friend and on good terms with Friday. That's an asset that ranks above what Clarke Griffin and John Doe across the hallway can contribute. Dimitri also seems to have fallen asleep, so they beep a warning to him in the hope that he won't startle awake at the sound of destruction and react poorly. ]

4.5

[configuration_birdwatcher]

[ Dimitri's fragile rest is interrupted by a warning sequence of loud, evenly spaced blaring beeps, and then the loud, harsh sound of groaning metal. Bastion's seized hold of the bars on the front of his and Fio's cell and is slowly but surely twisting them apart. Not all of the sounds of metal under pressure are coming from the bars. ]

[maximumcake]

"Right. Magic interference..." That's why he hasn't been able to hear them. That has to be why. Maybe that at least means Valdis is spared from having to feel his pain and fear right now.

"I, um. I think I'm one of those unwell ones," he says with a miserable wet chuckle. "I'm so scared we're gonna be... slaves again." That "again" is actually just him telling on himself without realizing it.

"I don't wanna be alone. I don't want..." he shuts up to keep himself from breaking down into another fit of hysterics. That doesn't quite stop a smothered sob from trying to break through his chest.

[maximumcake]

The purring thrums through his fingertips. It helps. He can finally take a full breath. Which he immediately pushes out in a heavy sigh of relief at the news about Valdis. It's so much he makes himself light-headed for a moment.

"Thank you. Oh, thank fuck. Tell her I'm still protecting her heart. She'll know what I mean."

With the absolute worst of his fear finally settled, he sits down heavily in front of the bars, but his fingers don't stop trying to stroke any part of Siffleur he can reach.

"If Friday let you out then... that means she's still trying to help us. Maybe that means we can still get everyone free. I... I just don't know how I can help."

cw: self harm forever

[maximumcake]

He's rushed to the bars now, clutching them with pale shaking hands. Fear widens his eyes until the whites show all the way around, but it's all focused on her for the moment.

"Daisy, stop hurting yourself. You might not heal. What if you..." Die. He can't bring himself to say it, but it hangs there between them loud and clear regardless.

"Please be careful. Please. I... need you."

[maximumcake]

"Yeah..." he half-heartedly chuckles. "I guess we're all taking turns freaking out, huh?" He was also having to yell at Daisy earlier to keep her from doing worse.

"Ed? You mean Edgar? Yeah. We're really good friends. Do you see him? Is he okay?"

[hadnoright]

She's not healing. She can already feel it, or— feel the lack of it. No strange itch and pull of tissue knitting itself back together the second the source of the damage is gone. Just the sting, and the throb, and the dull burn.

It's enough to keep her grounded in reality, to keep her from slipping, but, even as she stares back at Max with those yellow eyes hovering on the line between keen and distant, a part of her still feels the itch to dig deeper.

"I-I— it's... it's h-hard." She's rarely sounded so small. "I-I don't— I don't want to... i-it's hard."

[abhorrently]

"You are not going to be."

There's a strength in her words, a force of will that demands this be the truth and no less, the same conviction that allows her to channel magic through her blood though it is locked from her at the moment. All of it, she brings to bear in her words, the rainfall after the clouds threaten for so long.

"Listen to me. You are not alone, and you will not be made such. And we will not be made slaves. For all she has at her disposal, she is flesh and blood. We can and we will overpower her. We will be free, and we will remain free."

At the bars, red eyes seek his own, to know he's heard her. It's the same surety that let Fever defy the parasite in her head that infuses her words, how even in the darkest moments, there had been that scrap of self to push back, to refuse to be conquered. The mess she contributed to is extensive, she knows, but it can be fixed. It can be made up for, and corrected. She'll bear its weight until then.