#white boy lore

[white-boy-bracket]

Lmao

[macbeth-murder-match]

is there some kind of lore... summary? primer? last-time-on? i havent been following the white boy bracket at all but i wanna be ready for this one :3

once we're done there will be! As of right now, the general idea is:

a bunch of white boys have been collected by The Showrunner, who has a fondness for pink.

The showrunner favors "Team Lit", which is Artemis Fowl, Prosperity Redding, and Firestar, though she also has a fondness for Jason Grace.

The Showrunner is fine with fraud if it's team lit doing it

she is NOT fine with it if it's xigbar doing it. xigbar, who arrived uninvited halfway through the tournament and started wreaking havoc.

she turned what was supposed to be a fun, friendly tournament into a death match in an effort to kill off xigbar. despite him losing every time, he won't die. She is PISSED about this

she opened a portal to allow the audience to send food for the White Boys. instead of this they smuggled in a bunch of contraband. she is PISSED about this

EVERY CONTESTANT WAS REVIVED

Xigbar offered to work for her in exchange for his weapons back. She accepted and now they are working together.

She has kidnapped Annabeth and The Narrator from stanley parable and is keeping them in some kind of dollhouse. she is doing this in an attempt to stop Percy from causing trouble. she kidnapped the narrator because he annoyed her.

stanley is PISSED about this.

xigbar has been instructed to protect team lit at all costs.

thats kind of where we are now! but theres more i havent mentioned. if you're bored and want to catch up fully, check out The Timeline!

White boy timeline but i can't be doxxed with it

Future Memories Round 1 Round 2 Nepo round 1 A Peculiar Alliance Round 3 Nepo Round 2 Some Worth In Life The Tournament Chapter 7 (Team Lit

each link leads to a piece of writing someone wrote for the tournament! they are presented here in timeline order! i do recommend following @white-boy-bracket for lore purposes. it develops live and hints are dropped in asks and such!

the storyline is already largely plotted out and WILL roll directly into this tournament as a canon continuation of that story!

so dont get mad about narratively satisfying fraud

[bestfictionaldivorce]

The Distortionist and The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

(Fanfic for @white-boy-bracket)

Paul Matthews sat holding a brown paper bag in his hands. He’d been told it was a bag lunch, but the contents didn’t feel like a bag lunch. He finally worked up the courage to open it and peer inside. It contained,,, a gun and a note. Paul reached in and pulled out the note. The note read “I authorize you to use my firearm - General John MacNamara”. Paul felt a mix of relief and disappointment. Relief that he could now defend himself, and disappointment that Emma Perkins hadn’t been the one to send it to him. Emma Perkins, the crabby barista. Paul liked her a lot. 

The sound of smashing glass pulled Paul out of his thoughts. Paul twisted around to see a lanky monochrome young man with a strangely twisted spine, who had his fist planted in a mirror. The young man seemed satisfied and pulled his fist away. He noticed Paul watching and turned to him, smiling in a way that made Paul nervous. 

The young man walked over and sat down next to Paul. Paul scooted away nervously. “Uh,,, Hello?” Paul said. The young man tilted his head. “Greetings.” He said, “My name is Christopher Pierre. And you are?”

“Paul. Paul Matthews.” Paul said quickly. This “Christopher” kid made him nervous. 

Christopher attempted to recline on one arm, but fell backwards and smacked his head on the floor. “This was easier when I had my bat.” Christopher muttered. “But that “Showrunner” just had to take it away.” He sat up again and looked Paul in the eyes. Paul squirmed internally. SOMETHING about Christopher was off, but Paul couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It could be Christopher’s twisted spine, or his paper white skin, which was paler than half the other people in the arena. 

“Why did you break that mirror?” Paul managed to ask through his nervousness. 

“They hate me. They’ve hurt me badly.” Christopher brushed his fluffy white hair back from his face, revealing a large black burn. Paul cringed. 

Christopher grinned. “Terrible isn’t it? One could almost call the mirrors abusive.” he said, but his voice was insincere, manipulative. Paul’s discomfort increased the more he spoke to Christopher. There was something inhuman and cruel about him that made Paul want to run. 

Paul knew he could shoot Christopher if he needed to, but he still felt a sense of dread. If he did shoot, there was a chance the Showrunner would punish him. Paul stood up abruptly. “I have to go do something.”

Christopher tilted his head again. “I guess I will see you later then.” he said coolly. Paul nodded and only relaxed when he couldn’t see Christopher anymore. There was something off about Christopher, and Paul had the feeling he didn’t want to learn what it was. 

[masterxofxmasters]

A new ship

Characters: Master of Master from kingdom hearts and Kayne from Malevolent (all Kayne parts written by @misspelled-magic )

MoM growled as he scrubbed the grass and syrup off of the leather trench coat. At least the water in the stream around him offered a bit of relaxation in this mess of a week he had had. Not only was he trapped in this horrible place but he had also been humiliated online (by his own son no less) and thrown into… various horrid pits.

“Oh come onnnnnn.” He snarled under his breath, “this stuff is really stuck on there- what the hell did they even use for this?”

“Syrup!” a capricious voice called out from… his left. “Agave, to be precise. I think. Or, that’s at least a component!”

A man in a black suit strode forward, his eyes widening at the Master’s form. His hands seemed to be stained with… blood? Fresh, too. And his feet… uncovered, and also fully soaked with reddened viscera.

At once, the many eyes that covered the Master widened. Normally he would have instantly covered himself, but by that point the damage would have already been done, mind broke beyond recognition. However, this didn’t seem to be the case with this bloodsoaked man before him. Sure, he was covered in carnage but him brain seemed to be Relatively intact. Well, best move was to play it off as normal.

“Look at you over there, mister helpful.” He smirked, leaning back on the bank of the stream and letting the coat rest at his feet in the cool water. “Unfortunately that doesn’t do me much good at the moment.”

The man blinked at the Master and then his face broke out into a grin.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t! Not at all. But that’s the question you asked– that’s the answer you get!”

He strode closer, seemingly unbothered by all of the eyes and general… unfathomableness of his form. If anything, the man seemed to be… eyeing it up?

“Now, if you were to ask a better question, well, then I might be able to do something worthwhile.”

A look of amusement flashed across the Master's face as his mouth pulled back into a wide smile of large sharp teeth. “Really? Is that so?” The tone of his voice was playful now, “what sort of something would that be?”

The man grinned, and sat down near the edge of the stream.

“Lemme think. Some soap? New coat? Now, of course, I think you look much nicer with it off– but it’s obviously not appropriate to be showing all this off every second. Or, of course, you could keep trying to clean it off with… stream water.”

“Dawwww you flatter me” the Master giggled, a soft iridescent blue rising to his cheeks, “butttt sadly I can’t go around showing myself off like this- don’t want to cause any unnecessary brain damage to people.” He sighed, drumming his fingers against the bank. “That could cause some issues for me in the long run, you know. Not everyone is resistant as you seem to be.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before clicking his fingers together, remembering the offer, “but yes- some soap could be very handy. I don’t think stream water is really an option for me at the moment.”

The man snapped his fingers, and with a stormy crackle, a bottle of saddle soap appeared in his hand. He handed it over to the Master with a little flourish of the wrist.

“OooOOoooo~ impressive!” The Master’s grin widened, catlike eyes dilating at the gift. “Maybe you are Mr. Helpful after all.” He left out another laugh as he took the bottle. It was only a few seconds before he went back to work on his coat, humming to himself. At last, the syrup had started to dissolve and the coat's sleek appearance was on the verge of renewal. “Perhaps I should keep you around.”

“Kayne.” the man said smoothly. “Mr. Kayne, if you would. And you?”

“Ahhh well..” The Master of Masters sighed, setting his coat to the side before getting to work on his pants, “that’s a bit of a tricky one. I’m not really one to hand it out for personal reasons. However..” the angel glanced back up at Kayne, “those who know me typically refer to me as the Master of Masters… or just The Master for short if that’s too much of a mouthful.”

“The Master?” Kayne said with a bit of chuckle. “Alright, Maestro. How’d ya end up in this… spot of trouble, anyway?”

“Maestro huh?” The Master asked fondly. “Can’t say that I’m opposed to it.” Setting his pants aside to dry, he next went on to his boots as he continued, “butttt to answer your question, I came to this place to visit my son that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. And well… wasn’t aware of the showrunner’s whole deal.” He waved his hand vaguely. “Turns out that my son wasn’t even around when I get here and she decided to use me as her little torture toy.”

Kayne made a pained sound, and shook his head. “Honestly, that is so rude! I’m here because I asked one of my followers to send me through– unfortunately, this place is rather closed off, and I didn’t exactly realize that when I sent Arthur through, and– oh, enough about me. Did you know that her revival is flawed? Tested it out, even! All it took was one little human sacrifice offered up to her, and she took the bait. Poor fellow ended up without a mouth. It’s honestly funny how incompetent she is.”

“Ooooo yikes-“ The Master gave a dramatic wince. “You know, she should really test those things out beforehand. Dealing with unexpected anomalies can be a real pain, as I’m sure you know.” Sighing, he stretched up and looked over to his companion. He had finished up with his cleaning and all that there was left to do was relax. “Anyhowww- not like I can die anyway so there’s no need for me to worry. Though- I am curious about you. You seem to be kinda a popular guy.”

“Oh, the– well, I haven’t got any inside this place.” Kayne said with a huff, gesturing to the general entirety of the forcefield. “But yes, quite a number of cults in my name! Or, well– not Kayne. That’s an alias. But dedicated to me, yeah.”

“Now that explains a lot! Seems like you have an impressive resumé there, hmmm??” The Master leaned towards him, elbows resting on his bare legs. “Color me intrigued.”

Kayne grinned sharply. “Now, I’m not gonna just tell you all of my everything because you’ve got a pretty face, Maestro. That’d just be irresponsible!”

He leaned in a bit closer, and dropped his voice to a lower tone.

“But then again… I’ve never been the most responsible entity around.”

Laughter escaped the Master's mouth. Surprisingly it seemed rather genuine. “Oh do I know that feeling. Unfortunately, my life doesn’t always allow for much wiggle room. You know how it is playing the long game and what not. It can be annoyingly restrictive at times, but hey, what has to be done has to be done.”

Kayne nods easily. “Fair enough. Well, then– not all of my everything– don’t want to do too much, y’know– but I’m a bit of a… malevolent entity. Considered a god, by many. Which is why I can look upon your lovely, maddening form!”

“Should have known.” The master closed his eyes, nodding softly. “This damn forcefield is messing up with all my powers and senses. Usually I would have been able to tell if someone like you was around from miles away. Oh well…” opening his eyes once more, he locked them into contact with Kanye’s, “malevolent though? That’s a rather human way of looking at it, don’t you think? For instance-“ he stood up with a flourish and took a step next to him and paced around him much like a hawk circling its prey, “many would call my motives unforgivable- heinous even- an affront against the gods itself- although in the end it’s all work and sacrifice to achieve the greatest end!” Suddenly he came to a stop beside him once more, looking down to him with eyes half lidded, “all that matters is if you believe in the means to the end that you want.”

Kayne blinked, looking up at the Master. He straightened up his posture, though he still remained seated, and squinted at the Master’s facial eyes. The– the main eyes. The ones that go in the eye sockets.

“Means to an end.” he muttered smoothly. “Now, I– I agree with you on that one, Maestro, but I’m talking about the… y’know. Killing.”

He held his hands, palms up, and made a little jazzy motion as he showed off the blood.

“I know I’m malevolent. It’s half of my point. But I don’t let that keep me down! I don’t need to be some sort of protagonist, or villain, or mentor. I’m just here for the fun! Or, well. Normally am.”

“It’s not like my hands are clean either.” The master let a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “After all- countless are dead because of my actions- children to be more precise. But I’m not here to air my baggage. All it comes down to is that sometimes there are actions that need taken.” He gave another squeeze and let his hand drop to a sigh. He then took a seat next to him. “It’s good to know that you’re having fun with it though. Only you get to dictate your life,,, well.., fate plays a bit in it but it’s really us that cause our own fates.”

Kayne touches his hand to the spot where he was touched almost with… surprise. He looks over at the Master.

“You’re not like me, dear.” he mumbles, though it is a smooth, intentional sort of speaking still. “You have a reason, a goal, a purpose. You’re not just fucking about. I cause my own fate, I am my own fate. I–”

He sighs.

“Actions that need taken.” he mutters. “That’s… I know exactly what you mean, there. Have to set up the right pins for the end to fall how you want it to.”

He smiles sharply.

“You know, it’s honestly a nice bit of fresh air, talking to you. Having someone else who gets the kind of work we do. Better than most other company I’ve had– I haven’t found anyone else who’s powerful enough to do anything significant who also takes the same sort of interest in humans as you. It’s… they’re cool, right? Little suckers.”

“They do fall into place pretty easily if you adjust their emotions just right I’ll give you that.” The master hummed softly in thought before speaking up again. “Definitely an interesting species. So much can be accomplished in such a short lifetime… though sometimes it isn’t always enough to get through with our goals. Sometimes there are adjustments that need to be made.”

“Oh, of course!” Kayne says, lighting up eagerly. “It’s amazing how much trouble one of my little guys has managed to get into. Nearly died so much! They’re so fragile, poor things. Had to help him out a bit to make sure he stayed up.”

“Awhhh poor things indeed” the master laughed,all sense of pity missing. “And they’re so self important too. The lengths they’ll go to do something that means so little in the universe. Poor misguided souls. They’re like a spiral of ants that chase each other in a circle desperate to reach a destination that they’ll never get to until they inevitably expire.” He cocked his head, looking over to him, “it’s a wonder how their species has even made it this far.”

Kayne nodded, smiling at the Master easily. He reached his hand over and rested it on the small of the Master’s back, as he continued in a softer voice.

“You get it. You get it, you understand them the way that I do! So many of the other gods I know they– they just don’t care, they don’t get the appeal! But you– you see that there’s something remarkable about all of them, that they’re fun, that they’re something you can change and shape. They’re– they can be interesting! And it’s so easy to make em interesting, you just have to throw in a few interesting pieces and they’re like fish on a hook!”

“And they’re an easy catch to reel in…” the master paused. “Usually. They can, of course, be finicky. Those are the ones you have to watch out for.” Leaning into the tough, the eyes on his face closed as a rumble escaped from his chest. “There’s always someone out there that thinks they can change their own fate and mess you up. They’re real pests.”

Kayne smiled and began rubbing a small circle into the Master’s back gently.

“Annoying. Endearing, sometimes– mostly annoying.”

Kayne let out a content sort of sigh and let his eyes close.

The purr emitting from the master only intensified. Geez, when was the last time he had done that? Embarrassing. Ugh. Oh well. This felt nice. “Endearing… yes I suppose they can be at times. Though it's a rarity… I only have a spot for one of them in my life at a time.”

“Oh, understandable.” Kayne said, leaning into the Master’s feathery body. He made a small sort of delighted noise as he felt the soft down of the Master’s chest.

The blue on the Master’s face only darkened. This wouldn’t have been an issue with his coat. The feeling of vulnerability was surreal to him but he tried to push it aside. Gradually, he left himself melt into it and rested a hand against his back. “So-“ he cocked his head, “do you normally take things so fast with gorgeous entities you meet in the woods?”

“Don’t normally meet anything as gorgeous as you.” Kayne murmured, smiling sleepily as he nuzzled into the Master a bit. “But I don’t typically take things slow in general.”

“I should consider myself lucky then.” The Master yawned, letting himself relax into the touch. His extra eyes remained locked onto the man nuzzled into him. “It’s not every day when I land myself in these situations either.”

“Then I suppose,” Kayne said, looking up at the Master’s face and smiling. “We should count this as a lovely stroke of fate.”

He chuckled a little at the word ‘fate’, as if it was a punchline all on its own.

“Sometimes it has pleasant little surprises alone the way.” Absentmindedly, the Master cupped his face and ran a thumb across it. “Who knows- maybe this could be fun for us.”

Kayne grinned, a brought a hand up to touch the Master’s chin, staining it with a bit of blood as he gripped it lightly.

“Oh, very fun indeed.”

[white-boy-bracket]

Important links:

Drawing box (for fan art, bribes)

Draw for WhiteBoyBracket ~ Secret Drawing Box

Secret Drawing Box is a web game that allows you to get drawings from your friends but you will never know who sent you the drawings

Lore: (fanfictions considered White Boy Canon. to be included in the lore, post your fic to ao3 under the fandom tag: "White boy bracket - tumblr", and tag me!)

Lore is in the timeline!!

timeline:

White boy timeline but i can't be doxxed with it

Round 1 Round 2 Nepo round 1 A Peculiar Alliance Round 3 Nepo Round 2 (Team Lit begins cheating) Round 4 (Xigbar Enters the Chat) Round 5 Se

White Boy Summary but I Can't Be Doxxed With it

(Xigbar does voter fraud in fuckable old man battle) The Showrunner AKA Showie decides to hold “White Boy Bracket” Boys assembled, Everythin

(Timeline is a work in progress, updated as we go, summary is also updated)

Lore development can be found in the tag #white boy lore

Showie Guesses: Guess who showie! correct layer two guesses get entrance to the discord if you want

Showie guesses

[white-boy-bracket]

Showie woke up on the right side of her bed. This was odd. Why was she-

Something warm.

“Aaah!” She let out a shriek and kicked out desperately, her foot connecting with something- she swung her arm in its general direction-

“FUCK-, Showie, OW.”

Oh. 

Oops.

Heart racing, she quietly scooted off the right side of the bed and slid down into the space between the bed and the wall. 

A pause. Silence, broken only by Xigbar’s groaning. Oops.

Chest heaving, she asked, “A- are you okay?”

"Can't ever get a decent sleep in this place," he muttered. He sat up, a hand covering the steady stream of blood coming from his nose.

Showie peered over the edge of the bed, watching him limp towards the bathroom, blood dotting her marble flooring. She would have to clean th- she would have to get that cleaned. By a. Not by a kin. 

She lowered herself so she was laying on the cool marble floor, the same temperature as her skin. Or the temperature of her skin normally. Now, the left side of her body was warm. :(.

What had happened? Why was- what?

She should be relieved, she supposed. When she’d awoken, she’d thought it was-

She hummed to herself, hitting her forehead with her palms (clink, clink, clink). No. No, she wouldn’t think of that. She didn’t have to think of that. There was no reason to think of that. It was Xigbar, she didn’t need to worry. She was safe. 

She didn’t feel safe. She felt small. Her heart still raced. She was thinking about it. She was thinking about it.

--

Holding a wad of toilet paper up to his nose, Xigbar limped back into the main room just in time to hear Showie (hiding behind the bed) sob.

“... I'm not going to make you talk. Clearly whatever that just was was some kind of response." He paused, as if debating his next words. "... But if you want to talk, I can listen."

He heard a little gasp between sobs. 

Maybe 30 seconds later, he saw Showie peek out from behind the bed. Pale as a ghost. Paler than a ghost. Hair the same color as her skin, the same color as her eyes- huh. 

She said nothing. Just stared at him for a while. Felt reminiscent of when he’d been teleported into this tournament to begin with. 

When she finally did speak, her voice sounded small.

“I thought you were [Name redacted]. I’m sorry. Sorry.”

“[Name Redacted]?”

“M- m- my [relation omitted]. Sorry.”

“Ah. In that case, I think I got off easy with just a bloody nose and a bruise," he quipped. 

She didn’t laugh. He thought she closed her eyes, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. 

“Want me to kill him for you?”

Silence.

“He still alive?”

Silence.

“I. I don’t know. I don’t think so. Maybe. I’m not sure.” She pressed her face into the bed. The white comforter was the same color as her, Well. Her. Her whole she. Xigbar briefly considered what a nightmare it would be to lose her in a snowstorm. Smack right into her. Get another bloody nose.

“How long ago did you last- Like, when’d you…?”

She pressed her face further into the bed. Her reply came out so muffled he couldn’t hear it. 

“Huh?”

She lifted her head, “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I ran.”

Silence. 

“Oh. Well.”

Silence. 

“I should.. Sleep somewhere els-”

“No!” Her head jerked up, her eyes wild, “I- I me- I mean-”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright.”

“A- alright.”

“Okay.”

“Oka- sorry.”

A bit of blood dripped from the toilet paper onto the floor.

A pause. 

“I’m gonna get new- I’ll be back.”

When he got back, she was sat on the very edge of the bed, blankets pulled around her in a manner that was probably supposed to be like her cloak. Looked a bit silly, though. Xigbar didn’t mention it.

“I was thinking,” She said. 

He waited. 

And waited. 

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking. Um.”

He waited. 

“Yeah?” 

“We. um. We should.”

“Yeah?”

“Check the spike pit.” He got the feeling this was not what she was originally going to say. He didn’t mention it. 

“Check the spike pit?”

“For bodies.”

“They’re in there. I saw them.” And he did. It was a bloody mess. 

“We should check for bodies that shouldn’t be down there.”

A pause. 

“To revive.”

“Oh, right,” He said, “Forgot that was something you did.”

Silence. 

Silence. 

He crossed to the wreckage of the bed the kins had brought in for him and tossed Showie her cloak. She was looking the other way, though, so instead of catching it, it covered her like a cartoon ghost.

--

He looked at the (pink) tablet she’d handed to him as they descended the stairs into the (now spikeless) spike pit. She’d made him open yahoo dot com, like someone who’d learned of the internet five minutes ago. 

“What are you having me look up?”

“Go to tumblr.”

“What? Why?”

“Go to tumblr.”

“Okay, okay.” He went to tumblr.

‘@showierunner’ was logged in. 

“Showierunner?”

“I had that url before I knew you.”

“Okay, doll,” He said, not believing it.

“Hm.”

They reached the bottom of the spike pit. Bodies lay strewn across the floor. 

They approached the body of what probably used to be an old man. A massive hole had been stabbed through the middle of his chest, and he was covered in blood.

Showie knelt down and waved her hand over the body.

Gabriel Agreste. Deceased

The words appeared over the body in pink cursive font.

“Type Gabriel Agreste into the search bar.”

“On tumblr?”

“On tumblr.”

“As a search engine?” Xigbar’s finger hovered over the search bar, “You know there are. Actual search engines?”

“I like to see what people post about them. It gives me more information about what kind of person they are than their wiki pages do.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, typing it in.

“What do you see?” She said, poking at the wound with some kind of stick. He wasn’t sure where she’d gotten it, though.

“Uh, looks like he got second place in a shitty dad tournament,” he said after scrolling past many, many gifsets.

“Hm,” She said, standing up. She nodded to him, and they walked over to the next body.

She knelt beside a body wearing jeans and a button down.

Jon Arbuckle. Deceased.

Before he had the chance to type it in, she was walking over to the next body.

“What, no chance?”

“Garfield annoys me! Too many people per round yell because he’s an orange cat!” She waved her hand in annoyance like she was trying to shoo the idea away.

“Don’t you like Firestar for that same reason?”

“Firestar is different. He remade himself and became a great leader of his clan. I like that.”

The next body. An old man in a fancy, old timey looking suit.

She didn’t even stop. “That’s George Washington,” She explained, “I only put him in this poll to die-”

“Damn, Showie-”

“I’ve taken some interest in Stanley- before yesterday, I mean- and I noticed the two of them- not him and george washington, him and Cesare- they’ve been spending time together.”

“You know the white boys by name?” Why was he looking them up?

“The ones that got past round one,” She said dismissively.

The next body. A blonde teenage boy in a white overshirt and jeans.

Adrien Agreste. Deceased.

“Agreste. Gabriel’s son?”

He typed it in. Gifsets. Art. “What are you looking for? Text posts?”

“Anything with the vibe.”

“How’s this for the vibe?” He showed her a piece of fanart that had the boy blindfolded and crying. 

“Hm.” She took the tablet. Her hands practically glowed in the darkness of the pit (she hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup). She swiped her finger across the screen, then frowned, and tapped a few times. 

She made a noise of disapproval and grabbed Xigbar’s hand? And started using his finger to scroll?

“Showie, what-”

“It doesn’t recognise my finger.” She said by way of explanation.  

“How do you use it normally?” His wrist was twisted in an uncomfortable way.

“Those touchscreen bandaids.”

Huh. okay. 

After a moment she handed the tablet (and his hand) back to him, “We’re reviving this one,” She said, lifting Adrien up and draping him over her shoulder effortlessly. 

She walked right past a few more bodies without stopping. And a cookie? A few bodies and a cookie. 

She paused over one corpse, “Ugh! Paul Matthews. He went against Garfield in the round where you smuggled yourself in. I actually tableflipped that one. Too many people yelling! But here he is! Back because of the food form.” She sounded disgusted. 

Something was off about the body. Xigbar nudged it with his foot, and-

Not a corpse. Paul Matthews jumped and whimpered, then quickly went still again like they somehow hadn’t seen that.

“Oh.” She said, sounding very annoyed. 

Xigbar summoned one of his arrow guns and aimed it-

“Not yet, Xigbar,” She raised a hand.

“You. Paul.”

He played dead.

“How did you survive?”

He played dead. In one hand was clutched a lunchbag. Did he bring a snack to the death match?

She kicked him. This time he stiffened but otherwise didn’t react. 

She was getting frustrated, Xigbar could feel it. She kicked him again. 

“Stop playing dead! I know you’re alive!”

“Hey, fake it ‘til you make it, right?” Xigbar said, waving his arrowgun a bit.

She seemed to consider it. Then she appeared to get an idea. 

“Guess we were wrong, Xigbar!”

“What?”

“He’s dead! Must have been a final firing of the nerves!” She said, clearly acting (poorly) (he got the sense this was on purpose).

“You sure?” He said, playing along.

“Yeah! I’m sure! You know when you catch a fish, and you chop its head off and then cut the entire body into little pieces, but the head keeps moving and the mouth keeps trying to breathe? Sometimes for hours?”

“Sure,” he said. If she said so. 

“Must have just been that. Let’s go ahead and head back to the apartment, and press the button that drops all of the bodies into the incinerator!”

“Incinerator?!” Paul Matthews gasped.

They both turned to look at him.

“Do I kill him?” Xigbar wanted to. He wanted to kill him. Blow off some steam. 

“I almost respect the audacity to lay there and pretend to be dead after squealing like a kitten,” She said.

“Audacity or Idiocy.” 

“Hm. Perhaps the second one.” She walked closer to Matthews, being sure to keep her head low, “What do you think, Paul? Are you stupid or just impertinent?”

He stammered, and Xigbar laughed, “Guess it's the first one.”

“Hush,” Showie said, amused, “Let him speak. And Paul, there is a correct answer.” She leaned down to get a better look at him.

It was then that his hand, which had been creeping into his lunch bag, suddenly jerked upward.

The gun inside the bag fired directly at Showie’s head.

[white-boy-bracket]

lore

i LOVE the lore

i LIKE the lore

i am OKAY with the lore

i am INDIFFERENT to the lore

i DISLIKE the lore

i fucking HATE the lore

Voting ended onApr 5, 2023

[white-boy-bracket]

Showie Hints:

Girl

Likes Pink

A heavy cloak is "needed" for what she does

Not Human

Related to Percy in some way

Likes dogs

Has some kind of make up on her hands

Keeps prisoners in a dollhouse of some kind

Favors in particular Artemis, Firestar, Jason Grace (but Jason to a lesser extent- Jason's not in team lit) because they have something in common

Has an army of identical kinsmen soldiers

Appears to be associated in some way with boundaries (forcefield)

Appears to have some kind of magic

Very beautiful

Blindingly White Smile

Neutral Evil

Can Kill Macbeth

Identified Percy as someone it was necessary to subdue.