John Egbert (
toheirishuman) wrote in
sparepartsbox2013-12-27 10:28 pm
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Let's give the boy a hand.
[Another week, another murder, another twisted execution. Three weeks this had gone on now, and it was getting harder and harder to stay positive about it. At the end of every trial, John always told himself that this would be the last time. That it wouldn't, couldn't happen again. And every Friday, he was proven wrong.]
[Why was it always Friday, anyway?]
[He guessed, on the plus side, a majority of them had been accidents. That was...heartening sort of, he guessed. At least most of them hadn't actually been cold-blooded killers.]
[He wasn't sure if anybody had some kind of post-trial cheer up planned this week. But frankly, he didn't really care. Unlike last week, there was no uncertainty in John's mind over whether or not he wanted to be alone for a while. The answer to that was "absolutely." So once they're released from Monobear rock, John immediately takes to the skies. He doesn't really have a particular destination in mind, so when he winds up on Chandler Beach he has no real complaints.]
[He lands in the sand, immediately curling up on himself. And for a while, he stays like that. Just curled up in a ball on a private beach on an island where technically all the beaches are private because NOBODY LIVES here but you know what...]
[But eventually, the ball method of coping stops helping. Actually, it only takes about five minutes for John to jump to his feet and start angrily shouting at the sky. Mostly indistinct, angry swears at nothing in particular. And all those rocks and shells he's been saving up in his sylladex ever since he got it back are finally coming in handy. Because he sure is hurling them as hard as he can into the ocean. Thisis one heck of a temper tantrum he's throwing at...the moon. Since there's nobody else here.]
[As usual though, his tantrum doesn't last long. He burns himself out even faster than he got bored of the ball method.]
FUCK!!!
[With that final swear, the loudest of all of them, John flops backwards into the sand. His glasses go flying, landing in the sand a few feet away but John gives precisely zero fucks about that. It actually makes it easier for him to cover the top half of his face with his arm as he lays there, panting and resisting the urge to just start crying in frustration now.]
[He regrets ever complaining about his time on the ship now. He'd take that over this hellhole of an island any day.]
[Why was it always Friday, anyway?]
[He guessed, on the plus side, a majority of them had been accidents. That was...heartening sort of, he guessed. At least most of them hadn't actually been cold-blooded killers.]
[He wasn't sure if anybody had some kind of post-trial cheer up planned this week. But frankly, he didn't really care. Unlike last week, there was no uncertainty in John's mind over whether or not he wanted to be alone for a while. The answer to that was "absolutely." So once they're released from Monobear rock, John immediately takes to the skies. He doesn't really have a particular destination in mind, so when he winds up on Chandler Beach he has no real complaints.]
[He lands in the sand, immediately curling up on himself. And for a while, he stays like that. Just curled up in a ball on a private beach on an island where technically all the beaches are private because NOBODY LIVES here but you know what...]
[But eventually, the ball method of coping stops helping. Actually, it only takes about five minutes for John to jump to his feet and start angrily shouting at the sky. Mostly indistinct, angry swears at nothing in particular. And all those rocks and shells he's been saving up in his sylladex ever since he got it back are finally coming in handy. Because he sure is hurling them as hard as he can into the ocean. Thisis one heck of a temper tantrum he's throwing at...the moon. Since there's nobody else here.]
[As usual though, his tantrum doesn't last long. He burns himself out even faster than he got bored of the ball method.]
FUCK!!!
[With that final swear, the loudest of all of them, John flops backwards into the sand. His glasses go flying, landing in the sand a few feet away but John gives precisely zero fucks about that. It actually makes it easier for him to cover the top half of his face with his arm as he lays there, panting and resisting the urge to just start crying in frustration now.]
[He regrets ever complaining about his time on the ship now. He'd take that over this hellhole of an island any day.]
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[Probably. But then again, there have been many times over the past week where John has felt selfish about all this. The fact that he didn't even want to do it in the first place, the fact that he wanted to be a coward about actually doing it...the list goes on. But he's ignoring all that, because that's how John Egbert copes with bad feelings in the face of a job to be done.]
Mmmm, let's.
[Yup. Off to the final step. Flying high through the sky to the fourth island. Final step.]
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Well, time to set the scene. ]
I'll place the bracelet, you place the backpacks?
[ The rest will, well, require her to be tied up... ]
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[He pulls the stolen bracelet out of his sylladex and holds it out to Aradia.]
Give me just a couple of minutes to load up the car, then I'll meet you at the bottom of the drop.
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[ Well, granted, he could have dropped it when doing the thing, but, well.
...John might be distracted around then, and there's not much more to be done. It doesn't take her long to fly up and drop it underneath something, visible but out of the way so as to seem accidental, and then there's just...flying back down.
Super strength and a sylladex are handy enough for the sand-filled backpacks, so that shouldn't take too long either. Then...sedatives into Aradia, rope, hair on the rope, and go time.
John's the one with the mixed bottle of sedatives, though, since they didn't want to risk any ghostly last-minute naysaying. So when she's done and back Aradia will cross her arms, waiting, looking around the amusement park one last time. ]
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[John flashes her a thumbs up before moving away to set up the "passengers". They'd have to be emptied and disposed of later, hopefully he wouldn't forget to do that...better make a mental note of it now.]
[Once that's done, he flies over to the end of the drop, pulling out a rope and a bottle of Aradia's favorite passionfruit tea. Which...they probably could have used as the plant back in her cabin but oh well. Better to do it beforehand, you know?]
So...this is it, I guess.
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[ That's an important qualifier, and one she's not about to leave out. For all her blasé cheer, this isn't an easy thing at all. It's just...the only thing that fixes everything, from the point of view of a time player. Which Aradia Megido happened to be, for better or worse.
Play the game and keep dying, because week after week the bodies piled higher, or...
...ignore the game and take the one path that she could see clearly. Erase "Junko Enoshima" and the killing games away from ever existing. Remove the pebble, remove the ripples. All the names on Veronica's tree would never have needed to be carved.
When she takes the water bottle from John, with a small smile, Aradia's hands barely tremble at all. When she uncaps it, they're steady, and she takes a deep breath. ]
Remember: this is just a Scratch. I'll see you on the other side, John.
[ And if it wouldn't be her, but rather the alpha counterpart - that was nearly the same thing, or close enough to pretend it was. Aradia drank with a slight grimace; the bitter taste of drugs somewhat overpowered the sweetness of the tea. ]
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Yeah, of course. See you on the other side.
[Now to wait for the sedatives.]
[1 one-thousand...2 one-thousand...3 one-thousand...]
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Aradia's mind drifts, and reality blurs out.
The last clear memory is of John standing there, and a fleeting sense of mixed dread and acceptance at what's to come.
Then she's out, lost to the peace of nothingness. ]
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[He takes a deep breath, slipping Aradia's now-empty water bottle back into his sylladex before taking the rope in both hands and tying her down. They'd done a little practicing with this, but it was kind of a hard set-up to duplicate elsewhere. And, obviously, they couldn't tie her to the tracks themselves for practice. So the knots are a little sloppy, all in all, he probably could have tied her down a little better. But it's not like she was actually going to go anywhere. This was all for show.]
[He probably could have stood to practice a little more. Maybe then Aradia would have stayed a little more...together.]
[He also probably could have stood to be a little more careful. As he pulled his hand away once the ropes were tied, his friendship bracelet from Jimmy snagged on the track. The string snapped, sending beads flying everywhere and oh shit oh fuck oh no he doesn't have time for this. But he can't leave them here! Especially since the beads spell his name out...]
[Hurriedly, he gathers up all the beads and string, shoving them into his sylladex and accidentally forcing out a couple of sedative bottles and a butload of confetti all over the corpse in the process. Goddammit, he just cannot catch a break here. Okay. Combine beads and string into one card...pick up the bottles...put them in a separate stack and...there. Everything's in place. For now, anyway. He'll have to dump all this out and rearrange it when he gets back to his cabin.]
[The confetti can stay though, that was...more or less the plan, anyway.]
[Once that's all settled, John flies back up to the beginning of the coaster, completely unaware of the fact that he's just left behind two pieces of evidence. He should have done a more thorough search for the beads, but then again: it's dark. And, honestly, he was focused more on making sure he got all the letters. A couple of blue and green beads left in the grass were just unfortunately something he wouldn't notice. Neither was the pill bottle, though it's hard to say whether it was lucky or unlucky that the one he left behind WASN'T the same thing used t drug Aradia.]
[He enters the operations booth, briefly taking note of the bracelet Aradia planted earlier. God, he'd have to apologize to Madison later...assuming he got found out. It was low and cowardly, and John hated the fact that they'd decided to do this, but they had to try and make this as confusing as possible. Either someone else had to take the fall, or they needed to have the trial stall out long enough for Monobear to get bored and end it early. Maybe some weird combination of both.]
[Everything is ready.]
[This is it. This is the moment. All he has to do is just...press a button. The ride will start and it'll be all over. Well, phase one will be, anyway. Just a single button. Then they can undo all this. Stop the Fashion Girl, save the world. It would be so simple.]
[So why was he hesitating?]
[Minutes creep by. They'd both agreed, this was the only way he was going to be able to get his retcon powers back. But it was risky. There were SOOOO many things that could go wrong with this. And he hated the idea of sacrificing everyone to make this work. If they succeeded...would they be any different than Vriska?]
[Yes, they would. But not by much.]
[His hand is mere inches over the top of the button, shaking like a leaf while his other hand covers his face. Though he's peeking out between his fingers to look at the button, so that kind of defeats the purpose.]
I can't do this...
[Except...it's a little late for that. The gears are already turning, the plan is too far along now to stop it. And John knows that. They passed the point of no return earlier this week. When John had shown up in her cabin the morning following Franziska's execution.]
[It's funny, really. Out on paper, this feat seemed pretty damn heroic. Yeah, John was sacrificing everyone so that he could escape. But he wasn't doing it for himself. It was for all of them. And yet, in spite of this, John had never felt less heroic in his entire life. And that was really saying something.]
[He hadn't really even realized that he'd pressed the button. He was aware of his hand moving, of course, but somehow...it seemed detached. There was that weird sense of surrealism again. Like he was just watching his own body instead of actually living in it. Which was, of course, complete bullshit.]
[He pressed the button. No going back.]
~~~~~
[John wasn't entirely 100% sure what he expected to happen. He of course, expected the ride to kill her but somehow he hadn't expected it to be quite so...gruesome. It was still dark out (it had to be...what? At least 4am by now??), but he could tell as he approached that he wouldn't be needing that just-in-case pillow in his sylladex to suffocate her.]
Oh g-god!
[His hand flew to cover his mouth as John retched, staring at the torso still tied to the tracks. Where was the rest of her? Tears well up in his eyes in spite of himself.]
Sh-shit, no! This wasn't supposed to happen!
[It wasn't supposed to be this violent; she wasn't supposed to be in this many pieces. That was specifically in his stipulations, he was pretty sure! It was supposed to be as painless as possible for Aradia. There's no way that was the case here. Granted, it had been hard to research exactly what happens when someone gets hit by a roller coaster going full speed after being tied to the tracks. Surprisingly, it doesn't happen very often. So maybe this was actually completely normal.]
[He didn't bother looking for all her pieces in the dark. What was the point? He knew who the monster who killed her so brutally was already. And it was way too dark to see anyway. Who knows just how far of her some bits had gone..]
[John flies back to his cabin faster than he's ever flown in his life. And clearly this is the reason for the tears spilling out of his eyes. Clearly it's just...wind sheer. In his uncovered eyes. Crying? John? You're joking, right?]
[Except it wasn't a joke. John spent the next several hours locked up in his room and bawling his eyes out. Better to get it out now, though. Because from here on out he has to be unreadable and suspicious or otherwise this was all for nothing. He refused to let them all down, to let Aradia down.]
[Because she's the true hero of this story, in John's opinion. Not him.]
[He's just the deranged monster who killed her.]