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Posted: Tue Dec 06, 2016 3:29 pm
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Jamie Delacroix | 19/19
+1 to Persuasion, -2 to Persuasion -1 to Combat There was a blank, distant sort look on Jamie's face as he watched Rabbit drop into the void. The small smile he'd managed to offer him in return was gone as his heart sank. He was beginning to believe this was what they had to do, but that didn't make the leap of faith any easier. Who knew if they'd wind up in a place like Sunday's house or in some hell pit with no way out. Shiloh was right, it was a maybe-suicide. What choice did they have? The world was falling apart.
"Yeah, I'll tell you about it when we get to the other side," Jamie responded, tucking the stone tighter against his chest. The last thing he wanted to do was drop it. He could only hope the extra effort in retrieving it was actually worth it.
Sighing, he squeezed Oliver's hand one last time before tucking close to Shiloh. It felt almost wrong to lie, but he tried to be reassuring when he said, "It... It'll be okay, Oliver." Except, well, he had no idea if they actually would be. "I'm ready," he added, looking up at Shiloh, "Whenever you are..."
Behind them, 80s Temperance continued her chant. It was eerie, it made Jamie's skin crawl, and it made it hard to continue holding his head up without faltering. A lump formed in his throat, one he couldn't quite swallow.
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Posted: Tue Dec 06, 2016 5:18 pm
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Shiloh Beaumont: 22/22 -1 combat
“You ******** well better," Shiloh told Jamie, putting up a dauntless smirk, his grammar as eloquent as ever. To his brother he added, “We've been through worse, probably?"
Oliver shook his head, mute. Any attempts at lighthearted humor were falling on deafened ears. It made Shiloh frown, but he wasn't deterred.
Despite his apprehensions, Oliver followed suit with Jamie, huffing against his relatively new friend and he definitely not new twin. “I don't want this..." he whined, yearning for the creature comforts of home; of his cat, (well, cats) and Elliot and hell—even his old home would be better than this, creaky stairs and floors lined with metaphorical eggshells and all. He didn't want to fall again. He wanted this to be over. He knew now that this was the furthest thing from a dream and he was—they all were—absolutely and undeniably doomed.
Shiloh only hugged the two, much like he did the first time. Jamie was hooked under one arm and Oliver found his spot under the other. From his hands bloomed a small swath of vines (creeping, protective, clingy), and his face fell solemn with the situation. He looked to his 80s counterparts a final time—to Jamie and his hair caked with blood and to himself who seemed lost to the world around him—before taking a deep breath with the reality of his actions.
“Hold on alright?" it felt weird to be the one comforting, but it didn't at the same time. These were two people that were the closest to him out of everyone in the world (well, there had been Thorne and Chris but they obviously weren't here), and he held onto them both with everything that he had.
He sighed and silently said his peace. With a gentle motion, he tipped the three of them backwards into the void.
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