[ 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! 🎶 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 impact—or 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
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! 🎶 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 impact—or 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. ]