she made the decision to follow with the soldiers, but despite her reasoning and fear seoyoung is pulled to the opposite side by a powerful tug by the person she was tied to. why he was so keen to keeping her was quite obvious, however. like him she was scared and unfamiliar with the underwater world, the moment she gets a proper look at his face she can indicate every ounce of fear was bubbling behind his features.
for sympathies sake she decides to stay by his side.
unfortunately on the side of rebels meant more carnage, more death--before today she never would have guessed that so much blood could leave a single person’s body all at once. (but then comes to the conclusion that those wounds were lethal.) each swing and clash of a sword rings in her ears, a tightening feeling in her throat and sensation that someone was standing on her chest made attempts to stray away from the battle that much more difficult.
rebels found the armory and everything continues to tumble downhill.
in her small hands she wields a sword but seoyoung has absolutely no intentions on using it. it was merely shoved into her hands by one of the rebel soldiers who ordered her to fight among the rest.
she wish she had been stronger. more defiant and less worrisome of a complete stranger. how she was so easily influenced because of fearful eyes really speaks for itself; the small faun hated that she was stuck in this situation, lowly cursing to herself as tear-filled eyes scan for a place to hide.
tides turn, something changes, but she’s completely unaware of it.
dark hues meet a soldier of the kingdom, her knees going weak and legs collapsing in noticing the lust to kill in their eyes. “p-please,” she sobs, fingers twitching against the handle of the sword, “i.. i don’t want to fight so, please!”
“then why are you holding your sword up?” they counter.
the faun doesn’t even realize that she’s holding the weapon up, the sharp end of the sword meeting the face of her enemy whose features split into a grin. seoyoung’s eyes widen, her arms shaking, and in the blink of an eye she hears her families voice in the back of her head--they tell her, urge her, to use the strengths she had to survive.
and something spreads, warping her innocence. concentrated eyes stare back at the approaching soldier who swings their sword high above their head, pausing when the young woman’s illusions finally take effect. to them they see another soldier, wounded and needing aid, dropping their sword immediately with a look of concern. she watches, arms nearly going limp as they walk straight into the blade of the sword. blood escapes their open wound, mixing in with the water as the surprise and realization hits them like a truck.
it hits her too.
for the first time in her life, seoyoung has killed someone.
nsfw; mentions of gore, blood, death, killing, all that good shit, etc
she’s never felt this dirty, this bloody, this satisfied. even as she walks through the carnage and madness that the castle was descending into while covered in the blood of the lives she’s taken, she can’t help but feel like the most sane person there. perhaps it was because she knew they were all nothing compared to she or because she knew that she never searched for a life to take purposefully. all she did was defend herself and that was the claim she’ll take to her death bed.
just because she conquered and killed, doesn’t mean she’s as lowly and savage as the rest of them. she was better. she deserved better. she deserved it all. she felt the bloodlust rising within her. the urge to fight any who oppose her. but why bother? why succumb to the same thing that everyone else was doing when she could do better?
though it was easy to indulge in the urge when someone grabbed her in attempts to slit her throat, or plunge a knife into her abdomen. a quick spell was always the easiest to disarm someone enough to kill them off. but it wasn’t enough. simply besting everyone else in combat wasn’t going to make her as feel as good as she deserves to.
the treasury.
what good is she without riches? not much -- she wasn’t greedy. yet a good crown would do her justice. it would finally show just how good she was. that she was as much as a princess. gold was her colour. she’d look adorable with a crown of oceana jewels adoring them. that stupid king and his family (did he even have family? who cares) weren’t worthy of something so fine.
so the faery took to snatching up soldiers -- alliances be damned -- for information on where the treasury was. where were the jewels kept? in the same area as the riches of the kingdom or in a room in a room just off the same area? no one seemed to know. they were too focused on the bloodshed. their thoughts were muddled to nothing just like their king before them. their incompetence was testing her patience. what was she going to do if she couldn’t get what she wanted? why would no one give her what she wanted? what she deserved.
momo glared as the last of her soldiers she interrogated crumpled in front of her. she cracked her knuckles. it’ll be easier to make everyone pay instead.
jimin doesn’t know what’s happening, but he doesn’t like it.
it started with a minor headache-- he thought it might be because he had a concussion (which was likely, quite honestly, considering how hard he’d been hit in the head to be knocked out) or something, or maybe just the emotional and physical strain taking a toll on his well-being. by now, he’s just hiding, no longer certain it’s even safe to go out, from all the yelling and shouting and death.
it’s all gone to hell. it really has. and jimin just wants it to be over, trembling underneath a table he’d found. he remembers being taught a long time ago that tables could block debris from falling on your head during earthquakes, right? maybe he’d be safe here.
(he’s scared for his life.)
then comes the whispering-- just stay here forever, let them fight it out themselves, it’s none of your business. it’s too hard, too stressful. you have enough on your plate. just worry about yourself. it’s safe here, no need to ruin that. it’s maddening, while the world swims around him whenever he tries to peek outside, terror striking into his heart at the sign of anyone else, especially those with weapons.
maybe the voice was right. maybe he should just stay here and let them all fight it out for themselves.
then someone’s screaming down the corridor for help, and jimin startles in place, lucidity filtering into his thoughts for a brief moment.
no-- no, he wouldn’t just rot away. he wouldn’t let innocents suffer if he could help it. jimin grits his teeth and pulls himself out from under the table, despite all the scratching in his head insisting he goes right back inside. no.
his eyes are pulsing red as he rounds the corner, dagger in his hand, ready to fight if he has to in order to save anyone that needed him. someone needs his help, and jimin is tired of hiding.
The madness has already spread throughout the majority of the entire kingdom, affecting nearly everyone still within its crumbling walls. As their worst qualities begin to manifest into something uglier within the soldiers, doubt and suspicion and anger are all they manage to feel towards each other the longer they watch each other’s actions. It isn’t long before they start to turn on each other while brandishing their weapons, diminishing the royal servants in growing numbers the longer the madness settles into their heads.
Those who side with the soldiers will too start to feel a sudden urge to turn on those on the same side and assault them as well, though not as bloodthirsty as the soldiers’ influence. Be careful out there!
her split lip, bruised forearms (and possibly elsewhere underneath her clothing) and open gash on her right thigh were clear indications of the previous altercations she’s been in thus far. she saw them as trophies of each battle. it was a reminder of that she was still penetrable, nor matter how perfect she was. in her eyes, she had the same physical capabilities as everyone else yet she still came out victorious.
everyone was behaving like savages. they’re lowly urchins that should be praising the ground she walks on. they had the gall to attack her, to challenge her. they all thought they would survive a battle with her. pathetic.
momo swam away from the heart of the carnage, her eyes sweeping the room for any sort of challenge. she stopped, looking down at her leg that left a red mist in its wake as she swam. there was a dull ache but she refused to attend to it. that would be showing weakness in front of all of them. instead she went to force herself to continue swimming and instead came with something blocking her path.
“who do you think you are?” she asks him angrily, crossing her arms. she kept her voice levelled though she didn’t hide the angry tone behind it. “you’re blocking my way. unless you intend to carry me where i need to go, move!”
After hours of work, the doors that protected the entrance to the armory are blown apart. The rebels finally infiltrate the castle’s armory! They grab all weapons that were stowed away there to bring back to their makeshift base camp in the throne room. They intend to arm all of their allies. There’s an abundance of typical weapons available such as: longswords, daggers, knives, axes, etc.
Those sided with the rebels now have access to any weapon of their choosing but they’re only allowed one! Choose wisely!
neutrality is always a temporary condition. it’s a version of appeasement that works a little more like ignoring the issues at hand for a greater cause than giving something to either party to make them happy. that’s the exact situation she found herself in with the hunter.
there wasn’t any way that was she happy with this situation. it was a temporary alliance. after they found a way out and got back to the surface, things will go back to normal -- he could go back to being a cold blooded killer and she can go back trying to avoid ever seeing him again. there’s a sneaking suspicion in her mind that he wasn’t going to let her off that easy after this was over. the thought of having to spend more time with him on the surface made her sick to her stomach. she couldn’t let that stop her. they had to be cooperative if they wanted to get out of here alive.
momo didn’t know the first thing about combative magic. she’s never used her magic for anything other than little pranks and spells to get back at people (and even then, those were never extreme). she told them -- even hoseok -- this early on. how much use could a faery be in battle? but after an hour of actively being forced to defend herself, the japanese faery caught the hang of it.
“get down!” she called out to the hunter as she launched a spell at an incoming assailant. her mind didn’t agree with attacking people but it made it easier that they attacked her first. besides, who would ever want to attack her? anyone who did attack her would only end up injured or worse: dead.
as the rebel fell momo straightened, her eyebrows furrowing at the sudden and unwelcomed thought. her rational mind told her that she wasn’t that good at fighting, this was her first time, but something was creeping in her mind. something that sounded like her thoughts but weren’t her own at the same time. it’s her first time fighting yet look at the body count already. the faery chewed on her bottom lip nervously. she was right: she was already a forced to be reckoned with.
she grinned to herself. when will other people realise how great of a fighter she was?
