rollplayinghouse | betrayal AU PSL

betrayal AU PSL

It's the House, again. Or maybe it's the first time for you. Either way, you wake up in a room of an expansive, spooky mansion, and your phone informs you of your goal: If you're sane, explore. If you turn traitor... it's something else.

Maybe you are a traitor, by now. Maki/Glory definitely is, though a kiss isn't going to be enough. And she has some kind of feelings for you.

Maybe she's waiting for you—everyone tends to come to the arsenal for supplies; the walls are lined with display cases containing all sorts of weapons imaginable, functional and not. Or, there's always the master bedroom, with its opulent bed and dresser full of knives. Or maybe she tracks you down, if you've got a favorite spot.

(The premise here is that Glory is going to inflict some level of sex/torture/murder to "test her feelings." If you have preferences on the level of sex, torture, or murder, or particular things to avoid, let me know! Mutual violence is also very encouraged.)

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[ shrike is not, by and large, doing too hot, having gotten separated from avante yet again; she's still got The Spear (tm) but is short on supplies and has gotten turned around something fierce such that in trying to get to the stairway she's somehow ended up in the master bedroom.

just her luck, but at least she can rummage through these drawers for supplies. this is... a weird array of items in the drawers, though. hm. ]

[Glory has perhaps too many supplies. She has a chainsaw strapped to her back and a pistol on her belt, but what she has in her hand is... just a regular combat knife. It doesn't even really look old, ornate or occult enough to have come from the house.

She appears almost as if from nowhere, coming around Shrike's side to peer into the drawer.]

Find anything you'll look good in?

[lightly]

Ah—um, ha ha... sorry, I didn't see you there.

[ she glances to the side to see if there's room to get herself a little space, but she's kind of boxed herself in— ]

It's really just... knives and... handcuffs? and lingerie that's definitely not my size at all.

[She stands Too Close to Shrike in order to rifle through the open drawer herself, coming out with a pair of wine red lace panties, certainly a size much closer to Glory's than Shrike's, and then holding them as she glances Shrike up and down before looking back at the contents of the dresser.]

I think you could pull something off.

[She says, simultaneously with pulling a pair of cuffs and a matched set of stiletto knives from the drawer.]

That's, er...

...well, maybe I'll think about it once we're out of here, right? Are you... doing all right?

I'm doing fine. Hale and heathy. And glad I ran into you, because I think—

[yes, that's the sound of the round entering the end phase, all the doors clicking closed and locking.]

—It'll just be you and me.

[And she gives Shrike a more intense once over, taking in what she's wearing and how ready to fight or bolt she seems.]

[ shrike seems to have lost her coat so is down to tank top, pants, and boots, hair having been braided to the side after half the pins got lost; she’s carrying a spear, and there’s a handful of trinkets sticking out of her pockets. She’s a little bloodied, but no obvious grievous wounds.

nothing that would make it clear if she’s a traitor or not, though. she shifts very subtly on her feet, redistributing weight. It doesn’t seem like she’s chosen yet what to do—considering her options. ]

...well, I suppose it’s good to have good company for this. We should talk more.

[Glory also shifts her weight, more obviously, but not to any particular purpose, just moving restlessly.]

Just talk? When we have such a good opportunity?

...sorry, you're going to have to be a little more clear...?

[ she hasn't... put down the spear. ]

[her lips curl up into a slightly unhinged expression]

I want to see you in these things.

All of them. Locked up, panties twisted around your legs, and knives buried in you.

[

////////////

holy fucking shit ]

[ :) ]

Well, I won't make it easy on you, but if you can subdue me, you'll have earned it, won't you.

If I wasn't willing to put in at least that much effort, could you really even say I wanted it?

[moves again, but this time she's clearly shifting her stance, and after another beat she pushes off her back foot and lunges forward.]

[ already moving to block with the spear in front of her, but her position sucks—the best way out is to try and roll backwards onto the bed to get herself some more space to maneuver in. ]

[The issue with a spear is that it is not nearly as effective once you're inside the radius of the pointy bit. And that it's a two-handed weapon.

Shrike does manage to block Glory's downward strike, her combat knife catching on the shaft of the spear. But Glory still has a pair of handcuffs in her other hand, and since Shrike's wrists are so conveniently presented, she moves to clap one of the cuffs around one of them.]

[ She's never really been a close-quarters combatant and it shows—and the metal snapping around her wrist is startling, even as she tries to shove Glory back.

But she was a soldier, not a knight, and she's never really cared about keeping combat beautiful and honorable, and she's got longer legs to tangle in Glory's, to try and get her off-balance. ]

[She tips and also rolls onto the bed, though to the side, and rather than fight the tangling of their legs she embraces it. She slides her thigh between Shrike's as she yanks her wrist by the cuff, trying to pull Shrike sideways enough to get her hand close to the bedposts, even if that means she's kind of rolling her on top of her—though she keeps her other hand tight on her knife.]

[ she's definitely got the size advantage, but Glory's thigh between her legs is distracting. she squeezes her legs together to try and trap her while twirling the spear around in her one free hand to drive it down toward Glory's chest.

smiling, placid, like the surface of a lake— ]

Were you that lonely?

[It's not a great angle for leverage, and Glory twists to avoid it, but she's much more focused on fastening the loose end of the handcuffs to the bed than she is on dodging, and the spear slices along the side of her ribs before the point sinks into the mattress, just a split second before the metal sound of the cuff latching. Her black ZRAEL dress only darkens slightly when the blood soaks it, but the bright red is visible through the gash in the fabric.]

Ah—!

[After her instinctive gasp and curl in on herself, though, Glory does not seem particularly upset about this. In fact, she almost laughs.]

Lonely? Of course. I'm desperate. Desperate to have someone, to feel something—

[She lifts her knee a bit further, her skirt riding up as her thigh rubs between Shrike's, and then slashes her knife at Shrike's spear arm.]

Nnh—

[ it’s half from the friction and half at the way the knife digs a deep gash in her arm, causing her to sag down, held up mostly by the handcuffs as she struggles to hold the spear, but it’s energizing. The world is pain and she loves the world, ergo.

with genuine sympathy— ]

‘s... terrible that you should suffer like that.

Is it suffering? Do I even know what suffering is?

[She attempts to wrench the spear from Shrike's hand to toss it away, which is an effort that doesn't do any favors to her wound, but her grimace is of a different kind of pain.]

You'll help me find out, won't you? You'll help me feel want, and pleasure, and happiness, and then when you die I'll feel the pain and loss, and I'll know all of it was real.

[ she can’t quite keep her fingers closed around the spear, but it doesn’t really do any favors to her injury, either; it goes clattering across the floor, and she ends up more or less draped over Glory.

she smiles, though. ]

Can’t deny such an... earnest request. I was going to put you out of your misery, but...

You can't call what I'm feeling now misery. I'm sure there's so much more.

[Her knife hand goes around Shrike to grip her hair as she pulls her into an aggressive kiss, knife held flat against her braid for the moment.]

[ she lets herself be pulled in, weakly gripping for the front of Glory’s dress even though blood’s freely dripping down that arm—

—and kisses back, roughly, all teeth over Glory’s lips, pressing into it. ]

[Glory kisses back bruisingly hard, breath escaping her in a short gasp, and she arches up against her.

Then she shifts her hold on her knife, hooking the tip of it under Shrike's tank top and slicing downward. She's trying to cut her shirt more than her, but she's not particularly trying to avoid cutting her.]

[ the intensity of the kiss just makes her eager, moaning into it. then she makes a muffled, sharp noise and reflexively tries to pull back a little as the knife slices her shirt open and draws a line of welling dark blood diagonally across her stomach—

though, with her shirt hanging open, it’s just one more cut to add to the mess of scars scattered across her very muscular torso. and after the initial shock, she presses down harder against Glory’s thigh between her legs, her hand weaving into her hair. ]

[Glory presses her thigh up harder in return, and then uses that as leverage to flip their positions so Shrike is on her back. She breaks the kiss only for a quick intake of breath as she twists her wound, her blood now dripping down onto Shrike's chest to join her own.]

[ problems:
- this is, regrettably, her fetish
- this is also the ghost's fetish

she makes a reflexive gasp as she lands on her back, wincing a little as her wrist doesn't quite twist at the same speed, but it's hardly a real bother, in the grand scheme of things.

reaching out, she grabs at glory's side, to get purchase on fabric to pull her in, fingers digging into the spear wound. ]

[Glory gasps herself at the pain shooting through her, but she lets the air out again in a moan as she collapses down, just sprawling on top of Shrike as her head spins. She doesn't weigh much, and she's slight on top of her even when she squirms for more contact, sinking teeth into Shrike's lip and dragging her bloodied knife across the bedsheets as she moves her hand to try to get some leverage back.]

Nnh—

[ the startled noise smoothly transitions into a sharp, pleased sound at the toothiness of the kiss, and she pulls one knee up and in against Glory’s back, hand dragging up Glory’s side with bloodied fingers. ]

[honestly, the arsenal's always a gamble, isn't it? but when he walks in, it's hard to see if he's actually insane or not, since he looks well from the front.

it's only the back that revels the chainsaw destruction he's faced already.

And... well, he's always looking to up his score.]

Huh.

It's quieter in here than I thought it'd be.

[She turns to see him when he walks in, and she certainly looks a bit worse for wear. Fortunately ☆ZRAEL black doesn't show the blood very much, but her dress is shredded down one arm and over her gut, and her hair is matted together in places.

She appears to have been perusing a rack of antique machetes, and has selected an ornate one with a swept-back blade the length of her forearm.]

Everyone must be occupied elsewhere this time. Luckily.

[...takes a few steps towards him, looking him over]

Though I suppose it's luckier it wasn't quite everyone.

[he wanted the chance to get another weapon, though his blood dagger will do the trick in a pinch. He watches her, his blue eyes following her moves carefully.

if he seems threatened, his posture doesn't betray it. nor does his face-- if anything he looks... excited? And he takes a step forward, towards her.]

Who, me? I just wanted to see if I could get something that went "bang." They tend to have things like that here.

"Bang," hmm?

[She shifts slightly, to show a pistol at her hip. She doesn't move for it at all, though, just turning the blade in her hand so it flashes in the light.]

Are you the type that goes for power over style, then? Just shooting someone isn't much of a challenge.

And it's so... impersonal.

Well, it is a game. It's never personal, in those circumstances.

Just fun.

[time to pull out his blood dagger, and to take another step closer.]

Don't tell me we can't keep this casual. It's gonna make me sad.

You're wrong. Sometimes games are impersonal, and you can kill someone and walk away and never look back.

But sometimes it is personal, even if it's a game. Sometimes you think you have everything under control, even when you're tearing their neck out with your teeth, but afterwards... you regret it. It lingers with you worse than any injury could. Do you think you can tell going in, which it is?

[Moves her machete to a defensive position, level with her chest.]

I can't. Which means there's only one way to know.

[shall we play a game. her defense is noted as he looks over her-- he has the edge on heigh and on bulk. but he gets the feeling she might actually know how to use that little toy.

and he cocks a half smile.]

I don't have that sort of problem, unfortunately. But, gracious. Should I be honored that you might still need to experiment with little ol' me to figure it out?

[another step, but this time, slightly to the side.]

You run the risk of a very, very impersonal match.

[She tilts her head and shifts her weight from one foot to the other.]

You can say that. But just because you say you have no feelings and no regrets doesn't mean that's the truth, either.

[Her lips twitch up just slightly.]

I'll see the truth from your actions.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

betrayal AU PSL

just fuck me up

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1/2

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arsenal time

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