been falling with my eyes closed, vertigo [talon v kiibo, 8]
Apr 19, 2022 13:46:15 GMT -5
Post by arx!! on Apr 19, 2022 13:46:15 GMT -5
malaki-boden w/a
aka "kiibo"
He knows that he dreamed, he just can't seem to recall it. He brushed away the raindrops that had woken him from his slumber; his fingers come away almost pink as blood mixes with water and washes into the wrinkles in his palm. He rubs at a piece of shrapnel that had buried itself in the space between his third and fourth finger, all the while wondering why it is he couldn't feel a thing.
He shifts inside his mech, drinks some of Nowles's water. It's almost as refreshing as the rain. He thinks.
["You be̷̖͕̯̎́͆̎́l̶͎͖͉͔̏̂i3ve̴̷̴̶̴̵̴̴̷̸̸̼͉̻̯̹̞̰̯̳̖͕͕̣̯̭̒̏̍̾̎̊́́͆̏̓̎͂̉́̆͒͛̋͆͜ͅl̶̶̶̴̵̷̸̶̶̨̹̞̼͎͚̱͎̤̜͖͉̖͔̠̍͂͂͊̏̂̈́̄̍̈̆̃͆͘͠ͅ"
"Sounds like something a robot would say."]
I̸̠̘̞̫̭͒̆̎t̷̗̩͙̥͔̟̲̿̾̋̿͆͘ͅ'̵̞͈͖̽̾́̕s̵̼͇̦̘̈͒́̋͠ ̴̨̢͉̻̲̭̰͇̈́̍̃́̒̚s̶̝͔̤̥͗̓t̴̛̹̻͑͐͑̚r̶̳͍̙̼̊̃̎̚͝á̶͎͖̯͙̋͒͜͜n̸̡̥͎̠̠̭̠̄̀̀̌͂̒̐͜ǧ̸̛̮̱̹̗̭e̴̻̪͙̟̬̥̻͚̊̒̅̉̇͋̚.̵̰̑̕
"HA! Looks like curiousity killed the Kiibo!"
"Madi, shut the hell up and go get help!"
"Yanno, Keebs, it's gonna be stuck that way forever now."
He didn't cry out when the sledgehammer came down on his forearm. He'd been too curious to see if his bones would break, if his blood ran red, if on the inside he was just like everyone else. Madison helped. She'd made a prototype of sorts for facial reconstruction—[GOOD MORNING, LOSERS!!]—something about-
#..../.'
["Like that?"]
[Maybe if we're ľ̶̜̻̬̽̀͜ų̸̛̝̗̭̳͔͉̾̈́̕ć̴̡͇͇͓͚̞̭̃ḱ̶͕͌͂y̴͔̭̋͛, we can kill all of them by suns̶̡̢̘͎͕̣̟̜̮̠̓͠e̴͙̘͒̾̍̿́̋̾̈́͝t̶̢̖͚̮̙͚̣̮͔͙͚̬̒̈́ͅ.]
He cleared his throat before pressing the button to activate the proximity voice channels; he'd found they didn't work beyond a certain range the day they'd all discovered the mech suits. It's why he'd built his radio in the first place, to hear beyond, to listen. Instead he only heard his own voice, followed by static and empty waves, nothing and no one for as far as t̴̨̄ḧ̷́̀͜e̵̠͆͝y̸̖͍̆̓ let his eyes see.
"This is Malaki-Boden W/A, District 8 tribute, codename: K1-B0, also known as: Kiibo. Let hope guide you to dawn."
He didn't want anyone to answer. Or perhaps rather, he hadn't expected one. He'd been using long range communicative devices for days without receiving a transmission in—[DEATH. I PROMISE.]—return.
"Talon?"
He knew just how many tributes were left. How? He was certain he'd slept through the anthem, but he knew. No estimates, no guessing. There were four and he was one of them. It only meant that the paths that had once existed and the carefully placed walls once built were now guiding him in a direction. Towards someone.
Someone.
50M30N3.
I̸̻̓̌̂͆͘ẗ̴̡̟̩̭̱̰̖̞̙̖͎̬̻͈͍̱̻͎͙̤̮͍̟͇͈́͆̿̐̆̑͗͑͂͋̀̇̉̒̾̓͂̋̍̉͊̍̚͘̚'̷͚̟̰̞̖̪̙̞̳̓̒̽̾̐̽̽̀̈́̇͊̈́͗̆̉̈́͜͝͠͝ș̶̨̢̡̧̲͚̤͎̺̱͇̦̱̙̜̠̻̰͍̭͑̾͑̿́̿͑̿̈̈́͂̆͑̎̆̄̄̆ ̶͈͎̖̠̭̱̙̟̣͇̤̳̾́̓͊́͐͂̄̅̅ͅs̵̰͙͔͇̈́̆̿̊̈̓̔̈́́̍̄͆̊̓̓͊̆̾̇̋̾̕͝t̴̛̛̳͖̪̫̰̟̘̳̬̭͖͎̱̳͕̎͐͊͂̉̔̆̉̈́͆̎͜r̴̞̦̥͖̦̫̪̙̲̽̎̽̓́́̚͜ͅâ̴̯̟̰̱̗̠̙̦̘̻̘̝̳̟̱̲̺͘͜ǹ̶̝̄̊̓͑̈́̈̇̍͐̏͛͐̌͋͊̚͘͠͝g̸̡͔̙̝̯̿̓͐̈̎̽͌̊̅̆e̷̡̨̛̳̱̯̞̝̪͇̠̥̜̲̦̙̙͙̜͇̳̗̘̞͖̊̒̒͊̔̆͆͂͐͑̃̈́͗͗̇̈́͋̄͋̃͗̀̕̕͜.̵̡̨̨̡̢̘͖̭̯̱͎̰̱͎̖͚̪͉̰̒̿̔́̿̈̑̓̀̿̃̅͋͐̽̏
"Does dawn look the way you expected it too?"
"I-" He chokes on his own words, spits and splutters at the rain water that had slowly dripped onto his face.
"Greetings. It's-" he shakes his head and his mech suit shakes with him. "My apologies. You know it's Kiibo."
Deep breath. That's how you survive under water; a friend taught him that.
"I shall swing first."
"Kiibo, darling, you must take care of yourself."
He shifts inside his mech, drinks some of Nowles's water. It's almost as refreshing as the rain. He thinks.
["You be̷̖͕̯̎́͆̎́l̶͎͖͉͔̏̂i3ve̴̷̴̶̴̵̴̴̷̸̸̼͉̻̯̹̞̰̯̳̖͕͕̣̯̭̒̏̍̾̎̊́́͆̏̓̎͂̉́̆͒͛̋͆͜ͅl̶̶̶̴̵̷̸̶̶̨̹̞̼͎͚̱͎̤̜͖͉̖͔̠̍͂͂͊̏̂̈́̄̍̈̆̃͆͘͠ͅ"
"Sounds like something a robot would say."]
I̸̠̘̞̫̭͒̆̎t̷̗̩͙̥͔̟̲̿̾̋̿͆͘ͅ'̵̞͈͖̽̾́̕s̵̼͇̦̘̈͒́̋͠ ̴̨̢͉̻̲̭̰͇̈́̍̃́̒̚s̶̝͔̤̥͗̓t̴̛̹̻͑͐͑̚r̶̳͍̙̼̊̃̎̚͝á̶͎͖̯͙̋͒͜͜n̸̡̥͎̠̠̭̠̄̀̀̌͂̒̐͜ǧ̸̛̮̱̹̗̭e̴̻̪͙̟̬̥̻͚̊̒̅̉̇͋̚.̵̰̑̕
"HA! Looks like curiousity killed the Kiibo!"
"Madi, shut the hell up and go get help!"
"Yanno, Keebs, it's gonna be stuck that way forever now."
He didn't cry out when the sledgehammer came down on his forearm. He'd been too curious to see if his bones would break, if his blood ran red, if on the inside he was just like everyone else. Madison helped. She'd made a prototype of sorts for facial reconstruction—[GOOD MORNING, LOSERS!!]—something about-
#..../.'
["Like that?"]
"Kiibo, darling, you're too special to lose."
[Maybe if we're ľ̶̜̻̬̽̀͜ų̸̛̝̗̭̳͔͉̾̈́̕ć̴̡͇͇͓͚̞̭̃ḱ̶͕͌͂y̴͔̭̋͛, we can kill all of them by suns̶̡̢̘͎͕̣̟̜̮̠̓͠e̴͙̘͒̾̍̿́̋̾̈́͝t̶̢̖͚̮̙͚̣̮͔͙͚̬̒̈́ͅ.]
He cleared his throat before pressing the button to activate the proximity voice channels; he'd found they didn't work beyond a certain range the day they'd all discovered the mech suits. It's why he'd built his radio in the first place, to hear beyond, to listen. Instead he only heard his own voice, followed by static and empty waves, nothing and no one for as far as t̴̨̄ḧ̷́̀͜e̵̠͆͝y̸̖͍̆̓ let his eyes see.
"This is Malaki-Boden W/A, District 8 tribute, codename: K1-B0, also known as: Kiibo. Let hope guide you to dawn."
He didn't want anyone to answer. Or perhaps rather, he hadn't expected one. He'd been using long range communicative devices for days without receiving a transmission in—[DEATH. I PROMISE.]—return.
"Talon?"
He knew just how many tributes were left. How? He was certain he'd slept through the anthem, but he knew. No estimates, no guessing. There were four and he was one of them. It only meant that the paths that had once existed and the carefully placed walls once built were now guiding him in a direction. Towards someone.
Someone.
50M30N3.
I̸̻̓̌̂͆͘ẗ̴̡̟̩̭̱̰̖̞̙̖͎̬̻͈͍̱̻͎͙̤̮͍̟͇͈́͆̿̐̆̑͗͑͂͋̀̇̉̒̾̓͂̋̍̉͊̍̚͘̚'̷͚̟̰̞̖̪̙̞̳̓̒̽̾̐̽̽̀̈́̇͊̈́͗̆̉̈́͜͝͠͝ș̶̨̢̡̧̲͚̤͎̺̱͇̦̱̙̜̠̻̰͍̭͑̾͑̿́̿͑̿̈̈́͂̆͑̎̆̄̄̆ ̶͈͎̖̠̭̱̙̟̣͇̤̳̾́̓͊́͐͂̄̅̅ͅs̵̰͙͔͇̈́̆̿̊̈̓̔̈́́̍̄͆̊̓̓͊̆̾̇̋̾̕͝t̴̛̛̳͖̪̫̰̟̘̳̬̭͖͎̱̳͕̎͐͊͂̉̔̆̉̈́͆̎͜r̴̞̦̥͖̦̫̪̙̲̽̎̽̓́́̚͜ͅâ̴̯̟̰̱̗̠̙̦̘̻̘̝̳̟̱̲̺͘͜ǹ̶̝̄̊̓͑̈́̈̇̍͐̏͛͐̌͋͊̚͘͠͝g̸̡͔̙̝̯̿̓͐̈̎̽͌̊̅̆e̷̡̨̛̳̱̯̞̝̪͇̠̥̜̲̦̙̙͙̜͇̳̗̘̞͖̊̒̒͊̔̆͆͂͐͑̃̈́͗͗̇̈́͋̄͋̃͗̀̕̕͜.̵̡̨̨̡̢̘͖̭̯̱͎̰̱͎̖͚̪͉̰̒̿̔́̿̈̑̓̀̿̃̅͋͐̽̏
"Does dawn look the way you expected it too?"
"I-" He chokes on his own words, spits and splutters at the rain water that had slowly dripped onto his face.
"Greetings. It's-" he shakes his head and his mech suit shakes with him. "My apologies. You know it's Kiibo."
Deep breath. That's how you survive under water; a friend taught him that.
"I shall swing first."
[Kiibo (malaki) attacks Talon (talon) with his F̷̧̬̬̪̻̙̻̠̤̈́͝ͅI̶̪͚̞̗̜̻̿͐͗̐̒Ŝ̶͈̜̺̲́̕T̶̼̗̬͉͔͐̄͐͗̉̈́̊̋͘̚S̵͔̥͆͐̓̓̽]
4_yu62CS2Yspiked blunt
[ BROKEN LEFT FOOT -- 6.5 damage ]
kiibo d8x has begun downloading a file!
#...//.' I̵̛̝̫̝̘̤̙̔̅̉̋̈́̓͊̈́̉̔̎̒̄̑̂̓͌͜t̷̡̨͉̣̞̳̰̝̩̮̩͈̮̗̲̯̻̹̮̹̠̻̾͗̿͜'̴̧̧̡̛̛̬̪̝̻̤̻̞̘͗̓̿͒̀̌̈́̄͂̆͐͗͝ś̵̺̥̰̼̹̪̤̲̝̝̣͓͔̝̘̯̺̯͓̩̳̫̤̞̥̻͚̹̘͉͔̯̉͛̊͛̈́̈́́̓́̕͜ͅ ̶̛̛̝̬̺͚̙̭̳̫̖̟̲́̄̎̀̾̆̀̂̏́̊̈́̾͊̾͗̓̑̑̋̾͊̊̐͒̆͌̑̅̒̓͂́͑̐͗͊̈͝s̸̨̞̱̳̞̖̫̼̜̩͙͎͉͆̈́̊̔̄͊͆̚̕͜ț̸̢̟̳̮̞͎̣̼̳͇̤̻̣̝͎͚͖͚̪̣̬̪̼̱̰̹͎̜̺͙̠̜̱͚̼̹͒̽̂̑̓̒̇́̔̓̊͗͌͌̿͌̈́̎̅̋̉̈̒́͘̕͜͜͜͝͝͝͠ŗ̷̨̡̼̗̙̜͍̦͍̠̺̬̪̯̜̘̭͔̯̥͉̹̙͍͐͌̅͑͛͠a̴͙̝̲͑̐̈̈́̉̀͑͗̽̾̇̃̓̔̒̑͆̉̂n̴̨̡̨̛͈̫̖̫͖̲̱͚̥̠̖͈̭͍̪̘̲̭͖̲̉͋̊́̓̈́̇͌̄̊͑̇̏͐͆͑̃̓̈́́͛́̈̈́̈́͆̓̂̒̌̚͜͝ģ̵̮̯̥̹̘̟͇͚͚̹̝͔̜̭̣̻̟͕͔͙̠͕͊́̾̽͒́̾̐̋͑͐́̂͛́͛̓̍̐̉͘͜͝͠ȩ̷̛̠͔͈͍̪̩̺̱̜̗̟̱̜͙̮͕̼̦̭̰̝̤̖͔̲̌̃̉̐̀̿͆̈͐̒́̔͋̚͝ͅͅ.̴̡̨̛̖̻̱͈̰͉͉͙̝̙͚́͐͒̀͌́́̋͒͛̇́̒̑͆́̀̈́̎̅̔̈́̉̐̍́̊͆̒́̕̕͘̚̕͠͝͝͝͠
#...//.' I̵̛̝̫̝̘̤̙̔̅̉̋̈́̓͊̈́̉̔̎̒̄̑̂̓͌͜t̷̡̨͉̣̞̳̰̝̩̮̩͈̮̗̲̯̻̹̮̹̠̻̾͗̿͜'̴̧̧̡̛̛̬̪̝̻̤̻̞̘͗̓̿͒̀̌̈́̄͂̆͐͗͝ś̵̺̥̰̼̹̪̤̲̝̝̣͓͔̝̘̯̺̯͓̩̳̫̤̞̥̻͚̹̘͉͔̯̉͛̊͛̈́̈́́̓́̕͜ͅ ̶̛̛̝̬̺͚̙̭̳̫̖̟̲́̄̎̀̾̆̀̂̏́̊̈́̾͊̾͗̓̑̑̋̾͊̊̐͒̆͌̑̅̒̓͂́͑̐͗͊̈͝s̸̨̞̱̳̞̖̫̼̜̩͙͎͉͆̈́̊̔̄͊͆̚̕͜ț̸̢̟̳̮̞͎̣̼̳͇̤̻̣̝͎͚͖͚̪̣̬̪̼̱̰̹͎̜̺͙̠̜̱͚̼̹͒̽̂̑̓̒̇́̔̓̊͗͌͌̿͌̈́̎̅̋̉̈̒́͘̕͜͜͜͝͝͝͠ŗ̷̨̡̼̗̙̜͍̦͍̠̺̬̪̯̜̘̭͔̯̥͉̹̙͍͐͌̅͑͛͠a̴͙̝̲͑̐̈̈́̉̀͑͗̽̾̇̃̓̔̒̑͆̉̂n̴̨̡̨̛͈̫̖̫͖̲̱͚̥̠̖͈̭͍̪̘̲̭͖̲̉͋̊́̓̈́̇͌̄̊͑̇̏͐͆͑̃̓̈́́͛́̈̈́̈́͆̓̂̒̌̚͜͝ģ̵̮̯̥̹̘̟͇͚͚̹̝͔̜̭̣̻̟͕͔͙̠͕͊́̾̽͒́̾̐̋͑͐́̂͛́͛̓̍̐̉͘͜͝͠ȩ̷̛̠͔͈͍̪̩̺̱̜̗̟̱̜͙̮͕̼̦̭̰̝̤̖͔̲̌̃̉̐̀̿͆̈͐̒́̔͋̚͝ͅͅ.̴̡̨̛̖̻̱͈̰͉͉͙̝̙͚́͐͒̀͌́́̋͒͛̇́̒̑͆́̀̈́̎̅̔̈́̉̐̍́̊͆̒́̕̕͘̚̕͠͝͝͝͠
spiked blunt
