Welcome to Gaia! ::

Rep's gaze fell on Melvin as he spoke and it took all his effort not to glare. The tiger wasn't Massacre but some false thing, an insult to the real one. The same way that other self was an insult to him and all he stood for, it belittled his little cow with its fanciness. He had nothing nice to say about it, so said nothing at all, instead focusing on the man's other question.

"He headed off to the battlefield. But I told him to pass on that you'd be staying here.", it was a lie but that didn't matter. This Melvin and his version of Saliva would be together again soon enough, wherever it was that these shadows of people went.

His smile wasn't cruel as he said reassuringly. "Lets go for a walk and I'll tell you what I need from you." his gaze flicked to the not-Mass. "The tiger can come too."

"It's fine. Some people just don't ******** belong on the battlefield." he said. "Some people are born to it, born to die fighting and every ******** thing their life sends them makes them choose between one fight and another. There's never really a way out." He led the way to another of those rooms, familiar with the layout of the place thanks to the memories that lingered like fog in his mind. "I thought it'd be nice to give you the way out no one ever afforded me."

He closed the door behind them, ignoring the expectant way that Mass kept looking at him.

"You aren't leaving blue kingdom. What I have planned for you. Well. It's an honour, you can be part of it forever, you earned it. We wouldn't have what we do without you." he rattled the pill bottle before putting it away. "Not a burden. You've earned this and more besides. You've made me re-think about someone I thought I knew."

He looked from the tiger back to Melvin. "I've come to set you free."

Stepping in front of the door, he summoned his claws coolly.

"This won't hurt. For long."

He lashed out at them both in a wide sweep.

HP: 60/60
Blessing: 2
DMG: 11

An honor? The idea he was being granted not only a free pass not to fight, but a honor for his hard work had him both breathing out the waves of self-doubt about his usefullness when everyone around him were sacrificing themselves, and also brimming that he met a high standard. For Harrison, that was production and loyalty, but for Rep, well, he felt that was a different standard he never hoped to touch. "I'm..I'm honored that ...that you'd even..." He was beside himself and hadn't noticed Rep move to block the door or summon his claws, instead looking at the floor as he collected his flustered thoughts.

When his eyes rose up, sparkling bright above a repressed smile that threatened to break into a full grin, he noticed the shadowy claws. It was shock and confusion that rose up, not sure what was going on, but like any animal that knew a predator was in the room, he felt his heart start to beat faster. Something wasn't right.

"Hurt?" He repeated, before the claws down and tore the hoodie that Rep had given him as an act of kindness only a short while ago. It dove deep into the wrinkled shirt and into his skin, and threw him back into the conference chairs.

His hands reached for the table, but he fell back, hitting his head against a chair before falling to the ground. Clutching his stomach, he laid there and cried out. "Ah.....it hurts! You...Why did you hit me?!" He touched his torn chest and held up his hands, watching dark red blood drip between his fingers and down his wrists. So much blood.

Wide blue eyes stared at his hands as his thin chest exhaled and inhaled quickly, panic flooding his system as he looked up at Rep and his claws. "Why? I thought we were friends? This is a safe place....." He looked around at the ground as if the answers and more coherent thoughts would be found there, before looking back up. "You're the Queen." He wasn't supposed to be doing this.


HP: 29/40

Infighting.

B0nez snapped the laptop closed. "I'm going into the back," he told Harrison.

Harrison complained, "and who the ******** is going to clean up all this broken glass- why, what's that's in the back?"

B0nez hurried, taking out his keyring and unlocking the door that Melvin, Rep, and Mass were behind in an easy turn from the masterkey.

The laptop was still tucked under his arm, and he arrived just in time to see Mass tossed to the side, dead, and Melvin being torn into.

B0nez was not really a man of action. He stood awkwardly, a stab of annoyance lancing through him, and when everything else was already going wrong- "H-hey!" he piped up, "I...I spent HP on that-"

Harrison, coming in from behind B0nez, did act. He couldn't attack, sure, but there was one thing he could do- he grabbed a silver serving tray, and using it as a shield, was in between Rep and Melvin in a flash.

The tray itself wouldn't do much good- he knew Rep's claws could slice through the metal like, butter, but it was better than his arm.

"What the hell is going on around here?" he demanded.

HP: 286
Defending: Melvin

Jordan stood in the doorway, his eyes simultaneously sad and cold. "Sorry, Melvin," he said, and looked past the chemist to Harrison. It still hurt to see this fragment, this Harrison who wasn't the Harrison he knew, but who looked like him, who resembled him in so many ways. "Sorry," he said again, mouth twisting with real regret. "It's not real," he said. "This world isn't real, and it's falling apart."

He stepped into the room; Ferros, once again behind him, moved to block the doorway. "In the real world," Jordan said, moving to Harrison's side, "you're in a coma, and we can't wake you up. It's killing you. It's killing us. We came to get you out."

"...You....you been talking to that Silver guy?"

Harrison lowered the platter reluctantly, keeping Melvin behind him.

"Like, he used...a power on you or something? You know me. You know this place. We been here for years- we, we built it from the ground up. You remember. You know. Jordan."

He looked at them both.

Fake human treasure. Ask how you were created.

He'd wanted to talk to them, and now... he reached up to take Jordan's face gently in hand, where his tattoo still blazed blue. He felt torn in two directions- on the one hand, there was a lot that didn't make much sense. But...a coma? It sounded like something out of a soap opera. And he had memories- vivid, pressing- But he knew...he'd been there, they'd all been there, and the Silver King had blown up half his s**t, so maybe it was possible he had thrown the wool over Rep and Jordan's eyes...how'd he get so much power? Nothing was making sense any more. All the basic questions had gone unanswered in that meeting. Who was the Voice. Why the Tournament, why him, what was the catch? What was behind it all?

"You remember?" he entreated again.