[He gets to his feet, still pressing his scarf to his throat, which seems like it's still bloody, but is no longer hemorrhaging. He's sort of wobbling as he gets back on his feet, and recognizes that he's very hurt, but he also takes the moment, in the middle of this to nod at Rupert, a gesture of thanks.
This is all madness. He doesn't - couldn't - tell another person to do whatever it takes to save her father, not without being a hypocrite, but this is madness. Byleth can't want this blood spilled for a prize he's sure will be false. Can she?
He tries to speak into his mic, but his words come out in a miserable rasp.]
Ei$ner, this is a test They won't - oh shit, I need to rest. . .
[This doesn't seem to be going so well. But he has another ace up his sleeve. He's going to do two things now. First of all, he's going to step backwards, in the direction of the switch behind him and Byleth, raising his hand over it. He looks and gives Rupert another significant look, and holds it there, not pressing down, but able to be pressed down at a moment should Byleth try to press the switch on the other side.
Second, from where he is, he turns and looks at at the man out in the crowd, and points to him with his other finger. And he'll try to speak again into the mic, although it seems to be extremely painful, and he gasps between verses, trying if he can to channel what he's saying towards this person rather than towards Winter Division.]
Your tricks . . . tired. Maybe you'll . . . also like fire. Better bring it to an end -
[He pauses for a second, breath heaving a bit, clearly not able to continue. . . but then he changes the direction of his hand to point at Frumpkin.]
Take it from my friend.
[With that, Frumpkin leaps into the spotlight, stares down at the Ramuda next to the stage, and begins screeching a cacophonous chorus of meows and yowls into his mini Little Frumpkin mic.]
[he watches for a moment as caleb falls, taking in a sharp breath that he only lets out once the man is back on his feet.]
Oh, thank— ow! Hey!
[the sudden shock means he drops the microphone, waving out his only working hand at the sharp sensation. please hold while he yells into the sky for this tag round as i get starbucks.]
That wasn't even against the rules!
[...he's looking a whole lot more concerned as the arrows start flying towards byleth, though!]
[byleth is trying to get within striking distance of the buttonâand that attack was supposed to make it easier. but here comes four dark arrowsâone goes through her leg, and she gasps in pain, stumbling, giving the other three time and space to hit her one after anotherâalthough she dodges the second, the third and fourth find homes in her shoulder and back.
but she's not stopping. still grasping the microphone, she struggles to stand again, even as the blood starts really flowing out of the wounds. she looks back at caleb again, brain bursting with information. she'd like to take a nap.]
Why did that happen...?
[this has to end. wielding the microphone like a weapon (and at least half of it is), she yells into it:]
Get out of the way of the button I lack, Or it's you that I'll chop in my next attack!
[well. maybe not. she's pretty haggard. but there's a spark of desperation in her eye that doesn't bode well.]
[ he looks relieved that rupert manages to take care of the worst of the damage—the damage he wrought—but this isn't over. he tries to get his composure enough to blink over at what the others are doing, vision hazy with the noise, lights, pain.
...it seems like caleb has something up his sleeve, blood-drenched as he is. so that leaves dealing with byleth before she gets to this button. maybe she doesn't know what it would mean for them, or maybe she has her own reasons, and he just—does not want to hurt any of them anymore, doesn't want to be in that position, pointing his words and blades at anything but his enemies, but his heart is pounding and he needs to put up a fight.
so he doesn't listen to her words, placing himself in her way with a shout. ]
You're in harm's way, I won't stop for your charm, Mic, wretched words, strike—go in for her arm!
[ hopefully this time will be less drastic—all he needs to do is get her mic away from her. ]
[ first of all, the light shines gloriously on frumpkin when he leaps in the air, and the entire audience is entranced because frumpkin is adorable. frumpkin is also completely unharmed and perfect, and when he lands and starts yowling --
the ramuda at the stage makes an unpleasant almost robotic shrieking noise (loud!) - his eyes change from their cute, blue and pink color to that black void that almost every member of the party has seen so far, and he reaches up to clasp his hands over his ears, as if trying to block the sound off.
his expression shifts into a grin when the attack is done, and ramuda tilts his head, those eyes still a black void- ] Bzzzt! Wrong answer! Wrong--wrongwrongwrong... wrong answer!
[ and there's a bright flash of light like a camera flash, a terrible, high pitched shriek noise that'll rattle caleb's ear drums (but not frumpkin's, because he's not allowed to get hurt) and then - that ramuda's down on the ground, spread eagled and not moving or breathing. hmmm.
and if caleb manages to look up, he'll see another ramuda standing on the stage itself! this one has those ominous black eyes, and is holding a microphone in his hand, though he smiles at caleb and frumpkin in the meantime.
over with rupert -- he got shocked but he's okay. when he yells into the sky and looks up, he'll see... another ramuda! this one is sitting on the catwalk above the stage. he giggles and winks, knocking off a playful salute. this brings us up to four (4) ramudas; one with a lollipop in his mouth in the audience, one on the catwalk, one on the stage, and one questionably (?) dead.
meanwhile, dimitri threw himself into the way of byleth, and his attack hits with perfect accuracy -- this time, the swordlike attack is more like a standard longsword than a massive one, it swings for byleth's mic arm
...and at the same time byleth's mic spasms again in her hand, perhaps spurred on by her desperation. it starts crackling with ominously black energy before those four black arrows go shooting out again - and when dimitri moves in to block her, it's unfortunate that he's caught in the crossfire, because the microphone misfires and the arrows shriek for byleth instead.
everything happens at once. dimitri takes an injury from one of the arrows meant for byleth - it stabs into his shoulder, and another one lances off of his chest, shooting off into nothing. the other two arrows go straight downward for the upper part of byleth's arm, right as dimitri's bladed mic attack finds the same spot.
three bladed attacks cut into the sinew of her shoulder like it's nothing -- and byleth's arm comes off with a sickening squelch and a spray of blood that spatters across dimitri and the stage alike. the microphone, deactivated, rolls to the floor harmlessly, out of the hand of her now detached arm. ]
[It's getting real with the Fire Emblems now. He watches in horror as Byleth's arm comes off. He can barely hear what's happening, what with the noise. So he'll just shout - though it comes out as raspy and hard to hear - to the only other person not in the middle of this.]
Ruper - Rupp Dogg! The other - same time!
[His hand is still hovering over the button on their side. And Frumpkin is going to continue yowling, this time focusing his attention on the Ramuda above them. More quietly, trying not to aggravate the injury. Letting his eyes glance up to Ramuda and then back to Rupert and the other button.]
[it comes out in a scream as soon as he sees what's happening, but - while he's distracted, horrified, he still manages to hear what caleb says. and then he's running towards the button as he registers it, picking up the microphone and poising his hand right next to the button as he starts calling out towards byleth, panicked:]
Uh, rhyme, rhyme, what rhymes with... We don't have to make her kneel? Go towards her arm and try to heal?
[she goes down like a wet sack, blood pumping out from the grievous injury. the pain hits, explodes out, like nothing she's ever felt beforeâand then... disappears, leaving only the keening pain of the open wound where an arm once was.
consciousness, which was already a thinly-held concept thanks to the previous concussion, is fast-receding from viability. but it's perhaps a tribute to her own tenacious tendencies that she's keeping her eyes open, even as her eyelids flutter.
ah. Dimitri is here. oh, no.
she shakes her head at himâa small, pained and jerky movementâattempting to reassure him, even as she lays on the stadium stage's ground.]
[ it's surreal when it happens. dimitri knows how to swing a blade to disarm, not maim—but he doesn't know how these words seem to interact with each other, and how a simple slash in concurrence with byleth's own spell can dig into her arm all at once and hack it straight off. he's barely aware of the arrows that stab into him, his mind gone blank.
it's only for a second, one that stretches out for what seems like ages. then, he runs over to her in an instant to try and help stopper the blood. he doesn't seem to hear her, or rupert's spell, or caleb's attacks. doesn't hear much of anything, even the din of the crowd. ] Professor—!
[ rupert and caleb can deal with the buttons. he's going to try and help her, though his attention still shoots up to sound of laughter above them. and something—it just snaps; he searches for the words and spits them out like a curse, anguished, furious.
rupert's frantic hunting for a rhyme is me writing raps and therefore i feel bad for him. it's not a lot, but just like before, it's enough - that golden light wraps warmly around him and extends outwards to byleth, bathing her and dimitri alike in warmth. dimitri doesn't get to benefit from the heal, but byleth does. she'll feel her concussion start to fade into less of a pounding headache, and of much more significance, her arm, which was profusely bleeding, begins to slowly stop as if the wound was sealing itself up. it's not a complete heal, and it's not reattaching her arm, but she does stabilize.
meanwhile, the combined attacks of frumpkin, caleb and dimitri successfully take out the two ramudas. both of them had those weird, black eyes, and both of them make that horrible scream noise. the one from the top falls from the catwalk and lands on the ground in a heap in the center of the battlefield, and the one on the stage is blown backwards.
that just leaves one ramuda, still sitting in the audience, sucking on his lollipop. he hops up from where he's sitting and spins the lollipop in his hand absently. this one doesn't have the strange black eyes compared to the others; he walks leisurely forward. ]
What's up with you guys, huh? You reallll~ y want something bad to happen to your friends back home? Only one of those buttons is gonna work. The Prime Minister's gonna be rea~l mad.
I guess all of this could be fake. Wouldn't that be crazy? Like some kind of illusion! Haha! đ¶ I can't imagine what would be happening to you right now if this wasn't real!
Too bad it is, fufu. Rupert, your prince loves you. It's sweet! Are you really gonna let him die for that guy? [ ramuda gestures to caleb and frumpkin. ] Of all people?
[ however, the group may notice that the arena around them is starting to get sort of strange. the world seems to be wavering and trembling - almost shaking. like something's wrong with it, destabilized. ]
[Yeah, villain speech all you want, bud. He's slamming down on that button, trusting Rupert to do the same. He can't even look back to see if he actually did or not; if Ramuda's words about his prince got to him. He doesn't want to think if he just condemned to death Byleth's father and his dearest friend. They aren't really there. Only false versions, like Beauregard was. But he still can't look.
Instead, turning on Ramuda. He's still pressing his hand to his neck, which isn't bleeding freely but is sort of softly gurgling blood when he tries to speak. That's a problem, too. Nothing more useless than a wizard without a voice. So even if it's painful and feels like something is tearing, he's just going to spit out lowly -]
You're the one with something to fear. No rhymes, I hear? Your world fading with a thin veneer? Steal the face of a friend, a mother, a father. Too bad, we still aren't going to bother. You know, your voice is starting to grate. So have another laugh about it while I cast disintegrate.
[he - hesitates for maybe a second, he really does, before caleb says three. but then the world itself seems to shift, and before he can spare another thought - he's slamming the hand that holds the microphone into the button at the same moment caleb does. after a second:]
...You don't know anything about me, or him, do you?
[then he turns to the pink haired boy. thinking, thinking, panicking less now than byleth's wound is at least sealed—]
You're running out of moves to make, Desperate and scared, your world's starting to quake! But we're done falling for your stupid game, So, the things you want, you're not going to claim. And soon you'll see that love is stronger, Tougher, and purer, it'll last far longer! So no matter how you try to force my hand, You know nothing's going the way you planned, And I'll always be here, and I'll always stand!
[it was a close thing. for all her words, byleth thought that might really have been it.
but then the warm glow envelops them, and... blood loss and injury to her shoulder, back and chest aside, she actually feels well enough to try and sit up,
badly. she falls down again immediately. there's only one arm. jeez, this is going to take some getting used to.
instead, she rolls over, and, using her sword mic as a projectile, just straightup yeets it at the last ramuda standing. sword blunt as it is, it's still heavy enough to carry impactâor at the least, distract him.
[ the world seems to be shaking around them, but the golden light eases some of his fear as it wraps around byleth, easing her wounds even if a few words aren't enough to put her back together. for now, it's enough. it will have to be enough. he helps her up when she stumbles and after she yeets her mic, glaring daggers at the last ramuda.
everyone's words afford him a sliver of focus, even if all the blood loss and burning is starting to drag at him, vision wavering along with the stadium. the buttons are pressed, and whatever happens will happen, so while he's holding byleth up he looks at this last, pink-haired boy and speaks in unison with her in a terrible, echoing roar into his stupid, stupid mic. ]
[ at first, nothing happens. both buttons being hit at once seems to do nothing besides set off an alarm for a broken rule. it echoes in the space of the arena, shrill and loud, but then, suddenly, it stops.
all around them, the world fuzzes at the edges again, and seems to tremble, giving a violent shudder and scratch. ramuda sees their attacks coming, and hops backwards, then makes a face as caleb's mic begins to rattle, changing from red to a sickly looking green.
his disintegrate shoots out of the microphone with a powerful burst of energy, just as rupert's starts to glow gold, and byleth and dimitri's combined attack pushes forward to suddenly fill the entire arena with a bright glow of white light.
ramuda makes a noise, a pained, choked off scream, and jerks backwards - as he does, the light grows brighter, brighter, and brighter still, until it's excruciatingly painful to look at.
it takes a good minute for it to fade, and when it does...
the four of them are standing for just a moment, in what appears to be a living room. the air smells warm and spicy, like a meal cooking, and there's faint, soft laughter coming from the kitchen, a cheerful (and hypmic so headphones) tune playing on a pair of visible speakers. each person in the group will feel a sense of warmth, the kind of thing that only comes from a sense of belonging, as two black haired young men come running through the living room and past the group as if they're ghosts, shouting at each other, and then ramming into a taller man in the kitchen with matching black hair. they throw their arms around the older boy and hug him, tight, and for a moment, everything in the world just feels right.
intrinsically, the group will know that their "hostages" are safe - that this was all just an illusion.
one breath passes. two, three.
and then the four of them are standing in the forest on campus. injured, burnt, one only half armed (lol), and no longer carrying microphones, but alive.
rupert will also find that he has a piece of paper in non burnt hand. i can't see this so dont talk about this around me k thank you
anyway congratulations you managed to good end your rap cyoa! proud of you. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
This is all madness. He doesn't - couldn't - tell another person to do whatever it takes to save her father, not without being a hypocrite, but this is madness. Byleth can't want this blood spilled for a prize he's sure will be false. Can she?
He tries to speak into his mic, but his words come out in a miserable rasp.]
Ei$ner, this is a test
They won't - oh shit, I need to rest. . .
[This doesn't seem to be going so well. But he has another ace up his sleeve. He's going to do two things now. First of all, he's going to step backwards, in the direction of the switch behind him and Byleth, raising his hand over it. He looks and gives Rupert another significant look, and holds it there, not pressing down, but able to be pressed down at a moment should Byleth try to press the switch on the other side.
Second, from where he is, he turns and looks at at the man out in the crowd, and points to him with his other finger. And he'll try to speak again into the mic, although it seems to be extremely painful, and he gasps between verses, trying if he can to channel what he's saying towards this person rather than towards Winter Division.]
Your tricks . . . tired.
Maybe you'll . . . also like fire.
Better bring it to an end -
[He pauses for a second, breath heaving a bit, clearly not able to continue. . . but then he changes the direction of his hand to point at Frumpkin.]
Take it from my friend.
[With that, Frumpkin leaps into the spotlight, stares down at the Ramuda next to the stage, and begins screeching a cacophonous chorus of meows and yowls into his mini Little Frumpkin mic.]
no subject
Oh, thank— ow! Hey!
[the sudden shock means he drops the microphone, waving out his only working hand at the sharp sensation. please hold while he yells into the sky for this tag round as i get starbucks.]
That wasn't even against the rules!
[...he's looking a whole lot more concerned as the arrows start flying towards byleth, though!]
Wait—
no subject
but she's not stopping. still grasping the microphone, she struggles to stand again, even as the blood starts really flowing out of the wounds. she looks back at caleb again, brain bursting with information. she'd like to take a nap.]
Why did that happen...?
[this has to end. wielding the microphone like a weapon (and at least half of it is), she yells into it:]
Get out of the way of the button I lack,
Or it's you that I'll chop in my next attack!
[well. maybe not. she's pretty haggard. but there's a spark of desperation in her eye that doesn't bode well.]
no subject
...it seems like caleb has something up his sleeve, blood-drenched as he is. so that leaves dealing with byleth before she gets to this button. maybe she doesn't know what it would mean for them, or maybe she has her own reasons, and he just—does not want to hurt any of them anymore, doesn't want to be in that position, pointing his words and blades at anything but his enemies, but his heart is pounding and he needs to put up a fight.
so he doesn't listen to her words, placing himself in her way with a shout. ]
You're in harm's way, I won't stop for your charm,
Mic, wretched words, strike—go in for her arm!
[ hopefully this time will be less drastic—all he needs to do is get her mic away from her. ]
no subject
the ramuda at the stage makes an unpleasant almost robotic shrieking noise (loud!) - his eyes change from their cute, blue and pink color to that black void that almost every member of the party has seen so far, and he reaches up to clasp his hands over his ears, as if trying to block the sound off.
his expression shifts into a grin when the attack is done, and ramuda tilts his head, those eyes still a black void- ] Bzzzt! Wrong answer! Wrong--wrongwrongwrong... wrong answer!
[ and there's a bright flash of light like a camera flash, a terrible, high pitched shriek noise that'll rattle caleb's ear drums (but not frumpkin's, because he's not allowed to get hurt) and then - that ramuda's down on the ground, spread eagled and not moving or breathing. hmmm.
and if caleb manages to look up, he'll see another ramuda standing on the stage itself! this one has those ominous black eyes, and is holding a microphone in his hand, though he smiles at caleb and frumpkin in the meantime.
over with rupert -- he got shocked but he's okay. when he yells into the sky and looks up, he'll see... another ramuda! this one is sitting on the catwalk above the stage. he giggles and winks, knocking off a playful salute. this brings us up to four (4) ramudas; one with a lollipop in his mouth in the audience, one on the catwalk, one on the stage, and one questionably (?) dead.
meanwhile, dimitri threw himself into the way of byleth, and his attack hits with perfect accuracy -- this time, the swordlike attack is more like a standard longsword than a massive one, it swings for byleth's mic arm
...and at the same time byleth's mic spasms again in her hand, perhaps spurred on by her desperation. it starts crackling with ominously black energy before those four black arrows go shooting out again - and when dimitri moves in to block her, it's unfortunate that he's caught in the crossfire, because the microphone misfires and the arrows shriek for byleth instead.
everything happens at once. dimitri takes an injury from one of the arrows meant for byleth - it stabs into his shoulder, and another one lances off of his chest, shooting off into nothing. the other two arrows go straight downward for the upper part of byleth's arm, right as dimitri's bladed mic attack finds the same spot.
three bladed attacks cut into the sinew of her shoulder like it's nothing -- and byleth's arm comes off with a sickening squelch and a spray of blood that spatters across dimitri and the stage alike. the microphone, deactivated, rolls to the floor harmlessly, out of the hand of her now detached arm. ]
no subject
Ruper - Rupp Dogg! The other - same time!
[His hand is still hovering over the button on their side. And Frumpkin is going to continue yowling, this time focusing his attention on the Ramuda above them. More quietly, trying not to aggravate the injury. Letting his eyes glance up to Ramuda and then back to Rupert and the other button.]
Also. . . it rhymes.
Pink hair guy. . .
Die, die. . . die, die, die.
no subject
[it comes out in a scream as soon as he sees what's happening, but - while he's distracted, horrified, he still manages to hear what caleb says. and then he's running towards the button as he registers it, picking up the microphone and poising his hand right next to the button as he starts calling out towards byleth, panicked:]
Uh, rhyme, rhyme, what rhymes with... We don't have to make her kneel? Go towards her arm and try to heal?
[and then, to caleb:]
Count of three! One... Two...
no subject
consciousness, which was already a thinly-held concept thanks to the previous concussion, is fast-receding from viability. but it's perhaps a tribute to her own tenacious tendencies that she's keeping her eyes open, even as her eyelids flutter.
ah. Dimitri is here. oh, no.
she shakes her head at himâa small, pained and jerky movementâattempting to reassure him, even as she lays on the stadium stage's ground.]
I won't die.
Don't worry.
[her eyes flutter, and close, breathing shallow.]
I won't die.
no subject
it's only for a second, one that stretches out for what seems like ages. then, he runs over to her in an instant to try and help stopper the blood. he doesn't seem to hear her, or rupert's spell, or caleb's attacks. doesn't hear much of anything, even the din of the crowd. ] Professor—!
[ rupert and caleb can deal with the buttons. he's going to try and help her, though his attention still shoots up to sound of laughter above them. and something—it just snaps; he searches for the words and spits them out like a curse, anguished, furious.
last verse, same idea as the first: ]
Ramuda—drop dead.
Off with his head!
no subject
rupert's frantic hunting for a rhyme is me writing raps and therefore i feel bad for him. it's not a lot, but just like before, it's enough - that golden light wraps warmly around him and extends outwards to byleth, bathing her and dimitri alike in warmth. dimitri doesn't get to benefit from the heal, but byleth does. she'll feel her concussion start to fade into less of a pounding headache, and of much more significance, her arm, which was profusely bleeding, begins to slowly stop as if the wound was sealing itself up. it's not a complete heal, and it's not reattaching her arm, but she does stabilize.
meanwhile, the combined attacks of frumpkin, caleb and dimitri successfully take out the two ramudas. both of them had those weird, black eyes, and both of them make that horrible scream noise. the one from the top falls from the catwalk and lands on the ground in a heap in the center of the battlefield, and the one on the stage is blown backwards.
that just leaves one ramuda, still sitting in the audience, sucking on his lollipop. he hops up from where he's sitting and spins the lollipop in his hand absently. this one doesn't have the strange black eyes compared to the others; he walks leisurely forward. ]
I guess all of this could be fake. Wouldn't that be crazy? Like some kind of illusion! Haha! đ¶ I can't imagine what would be happening to you right now if this wasn't real!
Too bad it is, fufu. Rupert, your prince loves you. It's sweet! Are you really gonna let him die for that guy? [ ramuda gestures to caleb and frumpkin. ] Of all people?
[ however, the group may notice that the arena around them is starting to get sort of strange. the world seems to be wavering and trembling - almost shaking. like something's wrong with it, destabilized. ]
no subject
[Yeah, villain speech all you want, bud. He's slamming down on that button, trusting Rupert to do the same. He can't even look back to see if he actually did or not; if Ramuda's words about his prince got to him. He doesn't want to think if he just condemned to death Byleth's father and his dearest friend. They aren't really there. Only false versions, like Beauregard was. But he still can't look.
Instead, turning on Ramuda. He's still pressing his hand to his neck, which isn't bleeding freely but is sort of softly gurgling blood when he tries to speak. That's a problem, too. Nothing more useless than a wizard without a voice. So even if it's painful and feels like something is tearing, he's just going to spit out lowly -]
You're the one with something to fear.
No rhymes, I hear? Your world fading with a thin veneer?
Steal the face of a friend, a mother, a father.
Too bad, we still aren't going to bother.
You know, your voice is starting to grate.
So have another laugh about it while I cast disintegrate.
no subject
...You don't know anything about me, or him, do you?
[then he turns to the pink haired boy. thinking, thinking, panicking less now than byleth's wound is at least sealed—]
You're running out of moves to make,
Desperate and scared, your world's starting to quake!
But we're done falling for your stupid game,
So, the things you want, you're not going to claim.
And soon you'll see that love is stronger,
Tougher, and purer, it'll last far longer!
So no matter how you try to force my hand,
You know nothing's going the way you planned,
And I'll always be here, and I'll always stand!
[cheesy but it's fine]
no subject
but then the warm glow envelops them, and... blood loss and injury to her shoulder, back and chest aside, she actually feels well enough to try and sit up,
badly. she falls down again immediately. there's only one arm. jeez, this is going to take some getting used to.
instead, she rolls over, and, using her sword mic as a projectile, just straightup yeets it at the last ramuda standing. sword blunt as it is, it's still heavy enough to carry impactâor at the least, distract him.
under her breath, she whispers a shivery:]
Die.
no subject
everyone's words afford him a sliver of focus, even if all the blood loss and burning is starting to drag at him, vision wavering along with the stadium. the buttons are pressed, and whatever happens will happen, so while he's holding byleth up he looks at this last, pink-haired boy and speaks in unison with her in a terrible, echoing roar into his stupid, stupid mic. ]
DIE!
no subject
all around them, the world fuzzes at the edges again, and seems to tremble, giving a violent shudder and scratch. ramuda sees their attacks coming, and hops backwards, then makes a face as caleb's mic begins to rattle, changing from red to a sickly looking green.
his disintegrate shoots out of the microphone with a powerful burst of energy, just as rupert's starts to glow gold, and byleth and dimitri's combined attack pushes forward to suddenly fill the entire arena with a bright glow of white light.
ramuda makes a noise, a pained, choked off scream, and jerks backwards - as he does, the light grows brighter, brighter, and brighter still, until it's excruciatingly painful to look at.
it takes a good minute for it to fade, and when it does...
the four of them are standing for just a moment, in what appears to be a living room. the air smells warm and spicy, like a meal cooking, and there's faint, soft laughter coming from the kitchen, a cheerful (and hypmic so headphones) tune playing on a pair of visible speakers. each person in the group will feel a sense of warmth, the kind of thing that only comes from a sense of belonging, as two black haired young men come running through the living room and past the group as if they're ghosts, shouting at each other, and then ramming into a taller man in the kitchen with matching black hair. they throw their arms around the older boy and hug him, tight, and for a moment, everything in the world just feels right.
intrinsically, the group will know that their "hostages" are safe - that this was all just an illusion.
one breath passes. two, three.
and then the four of them are standing in the forest on campus. injured, burnt, one only half armed (lol), and no longer carrying microphones, but alive.
rupert will also find that he has a piece of paper in non burnt hand. i can't see this so dont talk about this around me k thank you
anyway congratulations you managed to good end your rap cyoa! proud of you. ]