Prison World #3: Panultima (tw violence, torture, coercion)

[spoofer]

Characters: Ensemble Cast, maybe even you!
Summary: The third prison world in Xistentia is a terrifying subdimension where sentient people exploit each other in order to run technology that will fend off D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. The 'ruling' class, Primus, are bound to a system of coupling (see: fake dating!), legacy and nepotism, whereas the Servus are put through an elaborate media circus (see: Hunger Games). You're here to study this world. And perhaps even to free those captured.
Date(s): February 8-20
Warnings/Notes: Violence, torture, coercion

Panultima

You cursed your gods and died

The Primus Life

If you thought Earth was a tough neighborhood, welcome to Panultima. Here, life is sweet. At least, as long as you're one of the Primus class.

It's a sprawling city of wicked spires and elaborate canals, covered in a luminous, translucent shield. Rather than a circular planet resting in orbit, instead, it's a flat plane of matter suspended in space, the foundations of the buildings rooted in only a hundred feet of stone and unknown technology. But the vast majority of citizens care little for that. After all, the city has every amenity and experience one might desire.

Restaurants line the streets. Theater is at an apex in development, with a particular focus on integration of moral philosophical themes. Gondolas run the canals, whereas a railway races over the winding laser-track in the air. Fashion is diverse, colorful, characterized by wild shapes, patterns, and accessories. Food imported from worlds both thriving and dying across the multiverse. At the numerous colleges and institutes, premier technology and opera are under constant invention and reinvention.

COUPLE STUFF

Primus culture emphasizes couples. Trios. Larger groups of lovers than that, even. After all, with romantic love and loyalty to care for, and survival hanging on it... who has the time or energy to care about justice for all?

Not these guys!

In this world, the mission and pleasure roll together well. The implant picks up information, so your main job is to explore. Perhaps you and your partner might enjoy yourself a glow-in-the-dark cocktail in a smoky bar where a two-headed singer is providing the music, a tour of the massive shield generators in the sparkling complex. Or pick fruit from one of the hundreds of bonding trees in the city's central park— so named, because it requires successful completion of questions to "the newlywed game" for each before one of the luscious, sweet fruits is released from a vine.

THE SERVUS LIFE

But for the little guy, life is considerably shittier. Welcome to the arena, the fully manipulable bubble reality set up to torture the slave class. The emotions of pain, fear, anguish, and wild, adrenal victory.

Most days, it looks like a forest— incidentally, very much like Xistentia. There are dozens of hybrid creatures in it, most of which are edible, others toxic, several very dangerous. However, the ground below can change at any moment, turning into mud or belching acid baths. Or you might find yourself abruptly attacked by a bear with biological armor growing from its huge shoulders. The control room, operated by Primus, is concealed from view. Its role is to keep the environment challenging for those competing, shifting the settings of the place to advantage some and cripple others.

But the arena's programming isn't the only threat.

Instead, you have a motley host of macabre killers, other Servus locked up in here just like you. Some have survived in here for years, earning favor from audiences thanks to the amount of pure horror they squeezed out of their victims. Some of the better-known brands are the Bantam Butcher, a fallen angel whose first kills were those who took his wings, and now thrives on torture. The trapmaster seems to have control over environmental factors that rivals the control room. And the baker trio will eat the flesh from your bones if they catch you.

For infiltrators, the challenge is worse. Not only might you need to kill, survive, and explore the arena with your implant— but if you want to save the very same people who are out to murder you, how are you going to do that?

Breakout!

Several days into the mission, and that's when it happens-- the control room shuts down, under attack. And suddenly, there's pandemonium. Within the arena, some of the servus know immediately what this means— and they're willing to make a break for it, cutting each other down, crippling each other if it means that the Primus might have slower-moving people to contend with and allow them to escape. Others seem to have long since given up, failing to respond as the trees suddenly go dark and motionless, the birdsong dying into silence. After all, where is there to go? It's either D.E.S.T.I.N.Y., or to join the system that hates them, isn't it?

Are you inside the arena, or out? Are you there to help the fleeing Servus, or are you merely ready to scramble on home yourself and save your own skin?

Footnotes

1. Please ensure that threads are marked with appropriate content warnings!
2. The plotting post for this event can be found here, and the original announcement with some other details is here.

Comments

[shadowblends]

[his lips fleetingly curve at loki's response, though downturn not long after once he locks his gaze on the god of mischief.]

Oh, but I think you do.

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki restrains a hiss. ]

You resemble the Frost Giants.

[drehnifusbahi]

[Not for the first time, and likely not for the last either, he wishes his magic could do something for wounds beyond the physical. Thanks to the drift, he knows what that first ring was like for her - and he shudders to think what mental and emotional wounds this ring might have reopened for her. One more reason to despise this place.

But he's drawn out of his rather dark thoughts by the sound of her voice - and grimaces a little at the wording.] The Primus have the option of buying Servus... for marriage. It was the simplest, not to mention fastest, I way I could get you out of the ring.

[He sighs then, leaving off the healing magic to reach into his pocket.] This is not the way I'd have chosen to do this, were it up to me. But... Rosalina Nurumi, will you marry me? [The ring he presents is a gold band, with a little diamond peeking out of a gold flower. Pretty enough, but not the one he'd wanted to give her.]

[sadico]

[ From the outside it would appear that Ignacio had the upper hand. After all, he was the one breaking furniture as if it were nothing, fucking balls-deep into a young man much smaller than he was, fully clothed while the other wore tatters. Really, it would look as though he was the brutal beast who had everything under control.

In reality, it was anything but. As Nico increased the power of his magic, jerked himself off, goaded him verbally, Ignacio distinctly felt how the tables had not only turned but been flipped upside-down (in the metaphorical sense). This wasn't what he wanted, or intended, but his body was wracked with ecstasy that he couldn't define. He knew what charm magic was, this wasn't it, this was something deep, cold, arousing his most basic instincts as a vampire.

The temperature was like ice, yet he felt hot. He could get away, couldn't he? Shift into a pack of bats and take flight, even transform into mist, but he didn't want to. This fed into a need, deep and dark within him, and he continued to claim the godling's ass over and over with hard thrusts. His powerful hands gripped his shoulders at first, but then one was raised to yank Nico's hair to one side, exposing the neck he hadn't yet bitten, and he dove without hesitation to sink his fangs in.

His magical power increased, burst through Nico's body, intense throbs focused primarily on his cock and prostate. As Ignacio fed his magic flowed inside of Nico, while Nico's magic in turn flowed inside him. At that point he didn't know where he began or ended anymore. ]

[hasitsthorns]

[ Marriage sounds so wrong coming out of his mouth right now. It was all she'd wanted leading up to this prison world. It was all that was on her mind. It was all she could not to propose to Vanyel herself but now-

Now, it's ruined.

Maybe that's not fair to think. She still does. She hates the way he looks. There's no joyous expectation of her answer. There's nothing warm about him right now, especially not with his Healing Hands spell ceased. He's asking her to marry him out of necessity, not love. And she can't stand it.

She looks at the ring for a long, unblinking moment. His question still unanswered hangs heavy in the air between them. The tension is practically palpable. ]

You'll ask a hagraven to marry you because you want to, [ she starts, already knowing it isn't fair but also that she can't stop herself ] but with me, it has to be the last resort. [ He'd have asked Serana or Erandur or anyone else because wanted to but not because he had no choice. Because she might die otherwise next time in the bloodbath that is the Servus class. While she knows he doesn't want it to be this way either and that it's more difficult than that- He's still asking and it still hurts and she still doesn't know how to process it all.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. She doesn't want to see the hurt on his face from her words so she turns away from him on the hospital bed and fixates her gaze intensely on the far wall. Her arms are crossed now, grip so tight her knuckles are white and fingers dig into her skin hard enough to threaten to make new wounds. ]

But fine. Sure. I'll marry you.

[ Even if she's very clearly unhappy with it. ]

a little bit of a and wildcard

[remarkablymodest]

[ You have visitor, they tell the dragoon. Someone who wants to sponsor you. Show him your thanks. While that's not entirely the purpose for his visit, he had to have some guise for arranging the meeting. He's already got his plans in the works for rescuing Era from the arean. Bros before hos, he knows, but- One, Era isn't a ho. Two, Estinien can hold his own and isn't at the disadvantage of missing a horn.

Also, they need someone to stay in Servus to gain intel there for F.A.T.E.S. Who better suited than Estinien? Honestly, he's surprised that his friend lasted as long as he did among the lavish lifestyles of the Primus. ]

Hello, old friend.

[ Every bit of his posture seems to say 'Estinien, what in the absolute fuck. While he hadn't been aware that their friend would be joining them in the prison world, he'd been alerted as soon as he was arrested. Of course he was. He could helped him avoid this fate if he'd known. But he didn't, so- There's no used in worrying about what could have been. ]

I probably could have made a case for you to stay in the Primus class, [ he does actually say ] before you called them 'whores.'

[ Though nothing in his tone actually speaks of disagreement. While his friend was right in his assessment, it still wasn't something that most people took kindly to being called. Especially not so vocally. ]

[remarkablymodest]

[ Honestly? Aymeric himself had put it to the wayside until mentioning it himself. He's not sure that what they've paid here will be worth whatever F.A.T.E.S is looking for. Hopefully, it's something that will help restore everyone's worlds and nothing less. He's not sure that he can accept any less at this point.

He's happy to take her by the hand to get everything situated. They forgo a formal ceremony despite the insistence of the Primus filing the paperwork that it's such a joyous occasion and worth celebrating. Aymeric might agree, any other time. He thinks those things are true of marrying Era still but that fanfare isn't anything both of them are up for as they'd discussed.

It's a basic exchanging of rings under someone watching to officiate. He's careful and delicate with hers, promising in his on the spot vows to do it again properly someday in the near future. It's all said and done in a few hours time. They're returning to his overly spacious apartment sometime late in the evening. This world never seems to sleep, colors and celebrations going on during all hours of the night,
but he's certainly tired.

He can only imagine Era's exhaustion. ]

I suppose it's time for me to fulfill my promise of becoming a pillow, [ he says, to try and alleviate some of the tension. ]

[astralera]

[ Era keeps glancing at her ring finger once the ceremony is over and done with, almost as though she isn't sure what just happened. She's happy to be with Aymeric - overjoyed, really - but it's also very... overwhelming. Her head spins, and not just because of her missing horn.

Somehow it isn't surprising to find that Aymeric's current residence is larger than her cottage back in the Lavender Beds. It gets a tired breath of a laugh. Why do people need so much space to live in? Anima would likely wish to explore every nook and cranny, were he not safe in Xistentia with Peki.

Her dear friend - now her dear husband (and that will take a good long while to get used to) - does indeed lessen the tension with his statement. Era has been yearning to simply curl up against Aymeric's chest and be held in his arms for days on end. It's a tad bit frightening how much she has come to need these things from him in her life. Is that what love is? ]

If you would be so kind. I shall get ready for bed.

[ Her posture screamed of how exhausted she is as soon as she stepped through the threshold into Aymeric's apartment; spine curved and steps more a shuffle than a stride. It's as though gravity has put in extra effort to drag her down.

Era offers her friend a smile before making her way to where she believes the bathroom to be. She takes a moment to wash her face and brush her teeth with a spare toothbrush she scrounged up, then trades her ao dai and tights for her favourite pink yukata (minus the obi) and her favourite pair of lace-trimmed cotton panties.

With that finished, Era exits the bathroom and looks for Aymeric. ]

[astralera]

[ Era is there when all hell breaks loose (for where else would the Warrior of Light be?), clad in an attention-grabbing bright red dress and healing any who cross her path. Her hood is up, hiding the empty space where her horn once was from sight - space now occupied by her faerie, Lily, who assists her with healing the ones fleeing like animals from a sinking ship.

She made sure to try and spread the word that 'the girl in red will heal you'. Right up until someone is dropped at her feet, barely alive, Era hadn't been sure how successfully her message had spread. The wounded's would-be rescuer runs as soon as they see Era has turned her attention to stabilizing her newest patient, leaving the diminutive Auri woman to carry the man someplace safe on her own. On a good day this would not be difficult as Era has more than enough raw strength to carry a man twice her size, but when impeded by rushing crowds of people and the risk of assault it's not easy.

When she spots Janus a short distance away Era can't help but offer a short thanks to the Twelve, regardless of whether or not the deities of her world can hear her prayers from here. Her Galvanized shields are more than strong enough to make up for how eye-catching she has dressed (her outfit has allowed her to save many lives, but it also made her a rather fetching target), allowing her to reach her friend without any issues of note. ]

Janus.

[ With her head and tail hidden and only her size to go off of, Era makes sure to speak loudly enough that Janus can identify it as her by voice alone if need be. She brushes away her surprise at seeing them (she thought they had left already), instead focused on the task at hand: stabilizing the wounded man she carries as quickly as she can, that she might be able to return to the war zone to continue aiding even sooner.

Her hands glow with a soft, pale blue light as Era uses her aether to heal what she can of her unconscious charge's injuries even as she carries the man. It's likely he won't wake up for a while, which suits her just fine as it means less resistance to deal with. ]

Help me move him someplace safe?

closed to archie

[novelizes]

[ people always seem to say "marry your best friend". jughead's heard the phrase before. but when he thinks about marrying his best friend, he tends to think about betty. the best friend he's known since childhood. he thinks about having a family with her, somewhere outside riverdale where they don't have to worry about who's from across the tracks and who's from the northside. he thinks about her in a white wedding gown, walking down the aisle while he stands at the front of a church.

what he never would've imagined is being married to his other best friend. another from his childhood who is just as close as betty is. but archie is different. before coming to xistentia, jughead had never thought of archie as anything more than his bro, his confidant, his right-hand-man. of course, once he arrived, jughead has had a lot of time to think things over, like the possibility of archie arriving. he's gone through a lot of scenarios in his head about how they would save their world given what's required of them and while sometimes he'd like nothing better than to see parts of riverdale burn to the ground, there are other parts he still feels an affinity to, parts he'd do anything to save. sure, the drive in is gone, but there's still pop's and the school. sanctuaries that jughead has always sought to protect. as a result, he's come to terms with the reality that he might need to do some things he normally wouldn't if it means saving his and his friends' homes.

of course, that had also been before betty arrived and before this crazy world had set him up with archie. now he's stuck, away from his girlfriend whom he loves, and attached to his best friend in the most awkward of manners.

he's trying to play it off as nothing, though. he's been sleeping on the couch of their shared apartment in this new panultima place, allowing archie to take the bed ( only fair, in his mind, since archie's been crashing on his couch ). at one time, they'd shared a room, but still had separate beds. jughead wants to make sure archie is comfortable in exchange for the time he'd lived with the andrews.

of course, it's more than that. there's the potential for a line to be crossed here and jughead isn't sure he wants that to happen. he knows what's expected of primus couples, but he's never been one to follow orders he thinks are unnecessary or wrong. which means aside from the occasional arm slung over shoulders or brush of hands at the diner, jughead has initiated nothing. the last thing he wants is to screw up his friendship with archie after what it took to rebuild it.

so they're friends who happen to have matching wedding bands. gold that glints in the darkness as they trudge through alleys and back ways, looking for places to put up more posters. he's not sure how many hours he's been at this with archie. his hands are cold and his nose feels frozen, but like hell is he about to stop when there are people going into the arena soon. he's on a mission, and thankful that archie is along with him. ]

Here, this looks like a good spot for another.

[overarches]

[ archie isn’t happy about the arrangement although he also isn’t unhappy. he’s in some weird middle ground, acknowledging that it could be worse. they could be with strangers - could have to sell it for real, no holding back. to him it’s just one more thing that the two of them are going to face together and in some way, it reminds him of old times. jughead doesn’t need his protection, yet archie never resists the urge to step in front of him, regardless of where they stand with each other. he picks his battles carefully, stands for causes that are worth fighting for and yeah, he makes enemies in the process. they don’t always see eye-to-eye but in this? he knows jughead is right in his attempt to tear down the system.

this is his first eye-opening event, stepping foot in a world that favors unions between two or more, and battles to the death for those that don’t have the money, or the companionship. it hasn’t yet dawned on him the lengths of which he’s going to have to go for the people he cares about. he’s not enlightened to what this world ( or any other ) will request of them, assuming that he and veronica will figure it out together.

he doesn’t see the potential, if only because he hasn’t had his back against the wall yet.

it’s probably why he’s the one that insists the bed is large enough to share, though he doesn’t push. it’s said once and not repeated again. he forgets about the ring on his finger in private because nobody’s watching and he doesn’t have to think about it. and he’s not considering it now when they’re roaming the streets, clinging to the shadows. the bag slung over his shoulder full of posters isn’t particularly heavy, it doesn’t weigh as much as the prospect of getting caught at least. ]

Yeah. [ as good as any. they have a few cans of adhesive spray, tape, and whatever other supplies they may need. there’s a flashlight in his bag, but archie’s worried it’d hinder more than help them. he reaches over his shoulder, pulls a rolled up poster out like an arrow and holds it out to jughead. he’s spraying a messy zigzag roughly the size of the printed design, maybe a little extra just to be sure. ] There. It should stick.

[ he steps back, not necessarily concerned with being caught staring. they're backlit and that makes deciphering archie's expression difficult. they both have to be freezing their assess off at this point. his knuckles almost feel raw from the cold because they've been out so long. he's checking on him. needlessly, maybe. old habits. ]

[novelizes]

[ when it comes down to it, jughead will fight anything to ensure archie doesn't ever find his back against that wall. he's said it before and he thinks it again, even now, just how much he'd set aside in order to protect his best friend. if archie wants or needs to be free and with veronica, jughead will fight for that. in a way, that's what he's doing right now. because in his head, it's not right to force people together as couples when there's none of that feeling there ( and jughead feels sure there is none ). it's more than just the arena and the death fights, the opulence and the overindulgence that bothers him. it's the fact that he knows archie would rather be with veronica, much like he'd rather be with betty. and fighting a system is what jughead is good at.

as he slaps the handed poster up on the wall, he ensures it sticks well before stepping back and blowing on his hands. the fingertips are turning blue, but he'd rather ignore his own needs and focus on this than anything else. unfortunately, jughead has a tendency to do that, pushing himself to late hours of the night in order to write or, though he has yet to do it, allowing himself to get beat to an inch of his life in order to join the serpents. what it takes, he'll do it. and yeah, that makes him a bit reckless, a bit foolhardy at times, but he knows that's what he has archie and betty for: to hold him back when he needs to be. just like he can be the voice of reason for archie in desperate times.

in a way, he's missed this. going at it alone can be lonely, and though he's often had betty with him, especially as they investigated jason blossom's murder, more often than not he takes on tasks like this by himself. with archie by his side, he feels more comfortable. like he can ignore the cold for a little longer and not worry about finding a place to rest his head. he's grateful too, that archie hasn't pushed for anything, hasn't complained either. it's like they're just two friends, working together for a greater cause. two friends who just happen to be wearing identical rings.

turning to look at archie, he tries to decipher the expression on archie's face. it's too dark to discern and he frowns, about to say something when a shout echos down the alley. a question of what they two of them are doing on a night like this when most people are partying or basking in luxury.

blue eyes widen and jughead automatically reaches for archie, ready to shield him if necessary. ]

[deathkid]

[ it's a bit odd, having kavinsky so concerned for him. while he knows the other boy cares in his strange, obtuse way, nico has never considered that kavinsky would care enough to put himself in danger in order to check on him. kavinsky seems like the kind of person to put himself first and while nico can't really fault him for that, it's a bit frustrating at times trying to read him.

like now, as kavinsky steps closer making nico do the same. were it not for the barrier, there'd be but a breath between them. it's been a while since they've been this close and nico can't help but frown at that thought. ]

That last blow was kinda harsh, and there's ringing in my ears. [ he pauses to wiggle a finger in his ear, hoping to clear it but eventually drops his hand and sighs. ] But that could just be because of all the people dying. My death senses are going haywire with all this death.

[ which has been throwing him off a little, but not enough to prevent him from giving a good fight when he needs to. it's like any other battle he's had to fight before. just as deadly, just as dangerous. he's been trained for this, after all, though he's never had to kill so many actual people. there might be blood on his hands ( bryce lawrence's in particular, along with a few other demigods ), but never as much as he has right now. ]

They don't care as long as they see people die in bloody ways. I hate that I have to play into that just to survive. But you- You could be up there partying. Why are you really here?

[deathkid]

[ as ignacio's teeth sunk into his skin again, nico can't help but toss his head back and cry out. but the moment is brief, because with the magic in the air, flowing through him, he feels empowered, emboldened, and ecstatic. ignacio's rough thrusts combined with the heightening of his senses threatens to make him spiral off the deep end. he's nearly there as it is. but not wanting to give the vampire the satisfaction of having gotten him off first, he releases his own cock, once more swiping it across ignacio's cheek before huffing another laugh. ]

C'mon- You'll have to do better than that to make me come.

[ and even if he didn't get off, nico figures he's won this match of sorts. without a doubt, the vampire will be more wary of who he attacks in the future. and who he comes on to. groaning, nico flexes his thighs and tightens himself around the cock inside him. then, with another laugh, he reaches out and grips ignacio's hair, yanking him away from his throat. ]

I don't think you can get me, the Son of Hades, off. You're not good enough.

[ the words are enhanced by a wave of shadow that washes over them. ]

[disbands]

[That's fair enough. A little furtive whispering never failed to sell a couple to the public eye in a terrifying society that emphasizes the need to be in a relationship with maniacal intensity.]

That look on your face, [he says, with the mildest of double-takes.] Faeries in all dimensions must quake in their boots.

[He hitches her along, arm through her arm, hustling along behind the larger group of chattering, colorful Primus. However, the moment a walkway breaks off to their left, he scuttles off with her, pausing to press a kiss to her cheek. The obvious charade of being up to no good. Of course, the tour guide up front has a completely different notion of what that might be. Up ahead, the generator is massive— the size of a small tower in which you might lock up Rapunzel. Lightning strikes of caged energy flickers up within black glass.]

[drehnifusbahi]

[He can't help the way he recoils - she might as well have struck him across the face.]

That isn't true, [he protests immediately, soft and - yes, hurt.] I do want to marry you, I just... [Another, softer sigh, and he reaches for one of her hands to try and at least get her to loosen that grip before she hurts herself.]

I made a ring, you know. I'd been thinking about it ever since you collared me, so one day I just... did it. And I've been carrying it every day since, waiting for the perfect moment to propose - coming to Panultima's been the only time I haven't kept it with me. Didn't want anything to happen to it, you see.

[The bitter, mirthless chuckle he lets out then is entirely self-directded.] Apparently I oughtn't have waited quite so long. [The bitterness doesn't last long, though - it never does, with him - and he sighs a little again.]

I wish I didn't have to ask under these circumstances, that we didn't have to have a spectacle of a wedding for the sake of people we both despise. But don't think for a moment that means I don't want to marry you; I just don't want to do it like this. [He gestures around the medbay, meaning both it and Panultima in general.]

[overarches]

[ reckless is something he’s seen in the mirror enough times to be aware of what it looks like when someone else is trying it on for size. he hasn’t said anything for the last hour, despite the pile-up of reasons to speak up. it’s one tiny thing after another. a shiver, a growling stomach, tired footfalls that only continue because jughead is obsessed and the archie refuses to abandon him. there’s no tow truck coming to save them this time, no pick-up truck separating them. they’re going to see this through, it’s just…

people are dying. it’s burdensome. it makes him want to put his fist through something when he thinks about sitting inside where it’s warm while names are going off in the sky of people that have fallen in battle. how are they going to help anyone if they get hypothermia? sure, it seems unlikely, getting sick to that degree. he’s probably being dramatic, but it doesn’t stop the protective urge that’s threatening to take over. he can take the cold and the pain that comes with it. he remembers what it felt like to beat his hands on the ice to get to cheryl ( he’d do it again, break his arm again ) and how icy sweetwater river was. so cold it almost burned. jughead’s as capable as he is although he isn’t willing to risk harm to him as much as he is towards himself.

we should call it a night, he starts. it’s right there, hanging on the tip of his tongue. but they’re interrupted ( just as well ) and archie doesn’t have time to snuff the concern. as sure as his hair is red, he’s worried. only now that energy is being focused on the person at the end of the alley. they have two options. they can either run, or they can stick it out. sometimes, archie wakes up and he has to push fred’s bedroom door open and stand there in the threshold until his heart stops racing. it’s not okay, however, it has shown him that he’s never going to let that happen again, not to anyone else he loves.

jughead reaches for him and he mirrors the stretch of an arm, dropping the can of adhesive on a patch of grass once his hand’s behind jughead. it looks like all he's doing is slinging an arm around him to tug him close. ]

Trying to find new and exciting, private places to keep our sex life interesting. Why? Did you want to watch? [ archie doesn't wait for the next question. sorry, jughead, he's going to manhandle you back against that poster. 1) to cover and 2) because there are eyes on them and he's trying to make this believable. his guard only drops once he's facing jughead because he's flying blind here. if jughead doesn't push him away, he's attempting to caress his sides. for appearances!!! sorry, dude. he lowers his voice to a whisper, not quite willing to go the extra mile if he doesn't have to. ] Are they still standing there?

[novelizes]

[ they're both prepared, it seems, to do whatever it takes to protect the people they care about. jughead thinks of his father, of jellybean, and wonders how she's doing. he thinks about his father sitting in jail, refusing to give names and wishing he could do something about it. but he also thinks about archie, and how easy it is for the redhead to get into trouble, especially after jughead's own smart mouth gets him into trouble. archie's nearly always been there, offering protection or a warm bed. jughead can't turn his back on that.

but he isn't prepared to be pushed up against the still drying poster. hell, he isn't even prepared to feel hands on his sides, an intimate embrace from archie. shock settles under his skin, making him tense, but he's aware of the other person looking on and exactly why archie's doing what he's doing. it's clever and a good ruse, so he doesn't push his best friend away. not when they have a cover to keep. still, he can feel the cold of the wall through his coat and it makes him shiver ( it's totally the cold, and definitely not where archie's hands are, or so he tells himself ).

in order to keep up the ruse, he has to play along. so he wraps his arms around archie's neck as he tilts back his own. as if to offer it to archie.

what he's really doing is checking to see if the stranger is still there. he isn't sure how much more of this they can play up with the cold still seeping into his bones. the faster they can get away, the better, and that means getting the other person to leave. except now they're questioning why the two boys are out in an alley, in the cold, of all places to spice up their sexlife. jughead has to suppress a snarling remark. instead, he locks eyes with archie, giving him an apologetic look before responding. ]

Don't worry, he keeps me warm enough.

[ and if archie doesn't pull back, jughead will pull him in for a kiss. not a nice one by any means. it's practically biting because he's shivering still and afraid he'll bite archie's lip. plus, he's thinking of this as just a cover. there's nothing passionate about it because he's only ever shared that with betty. ]

[overarches]

[ the alternative is running and while they can outrun one person, he’s not so sure they can outrun more than that. what if it spirals out of control? what if they get caught and thrown into the arena? this is not how he planned their evening’s events. he thought the sneaking around would be a piece of cake. he’s experienced enough with getting in and out of the pembrooke and with tagging up walls for the red circle ( god that had been dumb ) but this isn’t riverdale. he doesn’t know every back alley like the back of his hand. no map can teach them that.

he feels bad about holding onto jughead like this. he’s not a person that likes the touchy-feely stuff to begin with, unless it’s on his terms, and right now it obviously isn’t. this isn’t an embrace after a rough day. it’s a lot. he knows it is. if they had the time and the guarantee that their voices wouldn't carry, he’d apologize. the shiver makes him keep his hands moving, slow, but with enough motion to try and generate heat. having arms around his neck kind of dampens much movement though, so trying to keep him warm is out. he doesn’t know where to put his hands.

it’s- weird.

he shuts his eyes for a moment, suppressing a grimace. it’s not jug’s fault. there are a dozen ways to reply, and he’d be on it, if jughead hadn’t beaten him to the punch. there’s no other way to navigate it, he supposes. the words go in one ear and take an immeasurable amount of time to process, like he can’t quite grab onto what jughead’s looking at him like that for. he narrows his eyes, working it out, and sees it happening before he’s completely grasped it.

it’s fine, you know. he’s. kissed plenty of girl. it’s not any different than that. ...except that jughead’s a guy and his best friend, and his pretendy time husband. okay, so it’s nothing like kissing a girl. there’s some resistance out of reflex. just a strain in his neck when he’s being pulled in and it only takes a second or two for him to buckle in and accept that this is happening. yup. okay. alright, doing this. there's nothing soft about it, which is great because he doesn't want to be thinking about this fondly. he's already kissed enough people that aren't his girlfriend, thank you very much. jughead's kissing him like a cornered animal and that's probably a spot on description of what it feels like. good. that can.. appear passionate, even if it's not, since on the receiving end with lips as chapped as archie's are, it kind of hurts.

archie gives it his best try. he sets his palms on either side of jughead, flat on the wall, because he still doesn’t know what to do with them and at least he’s blocking some of the air this way. right, um. be normal. be cool. he presses in closer ( if that's even possible ) and tilts his head to the side in an attempt to obscure the view, as if he can make it look more heated than it really is. their kiss is a press of lips and teeth, and archie's not sure how much longer he can keep kissing jughead without saying ow, ow, ow. ]

[pillz]

Whaa—at? [kavinsky asks, playful surprise or at least the superficial appearance thereof. underneath it, he's looking around with real, true, actual anxiety.] Me too. We're a match made in Hell. Seeking gay solace in each other's gay arms because we was bullied our whole lives.

[he glances at loki. smiles like a knife. in reality, this couldn't be further from the truth. though he was always indeed, small and slight, he had a terror of a personality and enough good looks and money to sell it, a craving for social power besides— he did most of the bullying. on the other hand, he does rather think loki is joking too.]

Let me guess. You got a shitty dad too?

[hasitsthorns]

[ The pain in his voice is almost worse than just seeing the hurt on his face. Rose knows what she said would cut. It was meant to. But unlike her father who she inheriented the trait of a sharp tongue from, she feels immediately remorseful for it. It can't be changed now but guilt gnaws at her all the same.

When he reaches for her hand, she withdraws it to her front. While usually his touch would be a comfort, right now everything is still too raw. She lets him speak in stony silence. As he explains, the tension in her shoulders starts to release. She's not so much bunched up with angry nerves as she is just laying on the bed now. Defeated. Tired. Sad.

For a brief bit, it might seem like she's just not going to answer. Then she suddenly rolls back around to face him. She keeps her arms tucked against her despite the almost innate desire now to reach out to him. ] I know, [ she says, trying her best to bite back the tear brimming in her waterline ] that this isn't what either of us wanted. What either of us want? I just.

[ She hadn't imagined he'd felt quite the same way. It seems silly to think they weren't on the same page; they have been more often than not, haven't they? ] After the fair, I figured I blew it. Like, why would you want to marry me after basically telling you how much that idea freaked me out? And then I went home and- Vanyel, there's so much you still don't know about that time. Which is, like, totally my fault because I've been scared to tell you but-

I don't know. I don't want to get married like this, I want. Something better, for both of us. I do. I just don't know if it's going to get any better with me and. You don't deserve that.

[ I don't deserve you. ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ It is strange to think of Odin now with a mixture of hate and love. The dissonance is not unfamiliar to Loki and he has always functioned under contradictory terms, balancing them according to what suits him best in the moment. At any rate, he's able to put that aside and not bristle at the mention of a father. ]

Two. They were both terrible and now they're both dead.

[varou]

( Of course nothing they try works. They've walked into the belly of the beast, and there's no escaping what comes next for them.

Hunter knows this, even as Rafa tries to fight against it. So when the beams start to part, he's already pulling Rafa under him, curling over him to shield him. There's less places to hide with the guards restricting how far they can go from each other. He can take the sun more than Rafa can.

And he uses the chance to dip his head close. )

Snap my neck, Rafa. ( He growls, his teeth sharp and claws extended again. ) Anything.

Just give them what they want. Do it. Now. ( He snarls the last word. )

[shadowblends]

[he blinks owlishly, head tipping to the side.]

Are these the beings you were talking about at the Halloween party?

[mordacita]

[ This is a nightmare. The clouds open, searing beams of sunlight that might as well be lasers to Rafa. Hunter's body keeps him in shade, but Hunter's body won't be able to take this for much longer than Rafa's. This is not a solution. It's just buying them time.

But time to do what? Fight each other, hurt each other? Rafa can't treat Hunter like his other opponents. He's aware of the ring of guards pressing closer, and of an electric charge in the air. The guards won't be weaponless, and it's clear that they're tightening their vice.

Rafa stares up at Hunter, fear solidifying behind his eyes. ]

No! I won't, I won't hurt you. I don't care what they do.

[ He can take it. He doesn't care if they torture him with the sun, with relics, with whatever they want. They won't make him hurt his husband. Rafa touches his face, holding it gently, but he remains resolute. ]

I can't, Hunter.