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Who: Lelouch and everyone involved in this plot
Where: Raisato; various locations depending on thread
When: Week 19, Day 4, various times (Lelouch's execution itself is scheduled for noon.)
Style: Multiple threads/commentspam/action or prose: Lelouch's posts will be in prose, but if some of the speedier threads go to action, it is fine.
Status: Primarily open to the people involved in the plot, but if you want to get in on it at the last second, sure! Mark individual threads with "Open" or "Closed" depending on who's in them and what's happening.
Rating: Up to R for violence
Warnings: DEATH, violence, more death, more violence, swearing, most likely....

High noon. The sweat rolls down Lelouch's back, trickling into some of the scrapes and abrasions left from his arrest and incarceration. They tingle painfully with the salt burn, but Lelouch is past caring. He is past anything, now. The rope they have his hands tied with is barely even knotted; it's almost an insult, really. It's not like there's much chance of Lelouch escaping by himself even if he did get loose.


Lelouch had almost forgotten the feeling.

They'd captured him two days ago - such a short time! it feels like a lifetime ago - when he'd gone out to buy food, slammed his head to the ground in the street while he writhed and demanded to be let go. He'd blinked the contact out of his eye and raged, spat, screamed let me go let me go Lelouch vi Britannia commands you, let me go, and nothing, nothing, nothing happened even though his head was swimming with the buzz of Geass, burning so bright and hot in his left eye he even wondered if they could see it. Nothing.

He'd once held a gun to his own head and told C.C. he'd rather die than go back to that half-existence, that life without a means to any end he might wish to accomplish. That life of nonexistence, dead since the day he was born. Well, Lelouch thinks, well, isn't this nice. Now he can prove it. Now the great cosmic finger is tightening on that proverbial trigger, isn't it?

And yet...

Lelouch glances around him, wondering and hoping and hoping against himself. Wondering if what the others texted him last night was true.


( 13 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 27th, 2011 10:39 pm (UTC)
Rally point Exorcist compound | Open
Lelouch isn't someone Lavi knows at all. He has seen the guy around, sure, on the network, and he saw that broadcast. He knows the face and all, but they have never spoken and he's not directly involved with it in any way.

But it is someone Allen knows, apparently, along with several others, and this isn't something he's about to miss.

So that's why he's standing in the courtyard, or more exactly leaning against a wall, while waiting for people to show up; everyone who is intending to help.

This ought to be interesting, and he's going to be there for it all.

((OOC: Go with whatever style you wish; I dunno which one everyone wants so I'm just leaving it like this hurhur.))
Feb. 27th, 2011 10:55 pm (UTC)
Lenalee pokes her head out of the house and grimaces, seeing that Lavi is the only one there. She still has no idea how to react to him, after their inexplicable stint as a married couple; more often than not simply glancing at him is enough to make her flush, or feel the need to punch him despite knowing that the whole thing was no more his fault than hers.

But saving Lelouch is far more important than any of her uncertainties or embarrassments. Though she has only spoken to him a few times, he struck her as a kind, overall good person. And she knows how close he is to C.C. So Lenalee slides the door shut behind her and makes her way into the courtyard, eyes studiously trained on the ground.

"Do you know how many people are coming?"
Mar. 2nd, 2011 12:21 am (UTC)
Indeed it is just... a little awkward. Lavi shifts on his feet uncomfortably, but he tries to put on a casual enough expression. Sure, it might have just been the gods' doing but...

It's still...

Just how to even deal with it.

"Not all that much, but quite a few I think."
Mar. 10th, 2011 06:41 pm (UTC)
Lenalee nods, chancing a quick peek up at him before returning her gaze to the ground again. Why do things have to feel so uncomfortable? First Allen, now this, and things had not exactly been comfortable with Kanda since that nightmare-- before that, even. Ever since the first dream about Allen.

It makes her feel tired. Even standing next to her, the people who should be closest to her... they feel far away.

"Quite a few people seemed concerned over the network. I think that it should be enough."
Feb. 27th, 2011 11:06 pm (UTC)
When Rin steps out of the shadows around the entrance and into the courtyard, she looks different. She switched her trademark red kimono for something more inconspicuous, a Raisato style garment in dull colors. Her hair can't be seen much, for she has a scarf wrapped all around her head and shoulders.

Hand raised in something that is not really a wave, she takes decisive strides toward where Lavi is already standing, her demeanor solemn. Today, she's going to war. Oh, she's prepared herself for an act that may, if they're lucky, solve things peacefully, but she's not kidding herself. Most likely, there will be war. So beneath her kimono are all her weapons, except for the sword, which she's carrying wrapped in a thick layer of cloth, to the point of making it look like a shapeless bundle. Which is, of course, the point.

Once she's within speaking distance, she greets the others already there, "I hope I'm not late?"
Feb. 27th, 2011 11:50 pm (UTC)
Moments after Rin walks into the courtyard, Raikou actually slides over and down the ledge the back wall. He, too, is dress in the local, traditional style - though he's also hidden beneath a matching cloak, with a deep cowl pulled low, shadowing his face and hair.

He lands not far from Lavi and pulls back the hood to meet his friend's single eye, revealing for the first time his natural, honey-blond hair. He gives the others a quick glance and frowns - he'd expected more to be there by the time he got back, really.


For the moment, he simply sighs and gives them all a polite nod. "I went out at sunrise, stole some of the local attire and stripped the dye from my hair, then went to mingle in the crowds. It's pretty intense, but I think I've got a decent bit of recon in so once everyone else arrives, I can give a quick brief on the layout of the execution site."

Edited at 2011-02-27 11:56 pm (UTC)
Mar. 5th, 2011 10:49 pm (UTC)
Such a flashy entrance couldn't help but catch Rin's eye, even though she's barely scanned the yard and the people already present. She watches Raikou slide and land, a little too distracted by the situation at hand to marvel at it, so her only reaction is a slightly open mouth and a cocked eyebrow.

After hearing him out, she takes a step toward him, taking brief note of the different hair color, with an idle wonder how on earth that is his natural color, and promptly addresses him: "That's great. Good thinking. What did you find?

And she's done talking, but thinks she'll point out her own preparation as well. "I got some local attire, myself, as you see," she explains, making a vague sweeping gesture at herself.
Feb. 28th, 2011 01:14 am (UTC)
Re: Rally point Exorcist compound | Open
Iroh had been up early. He had bundled up his meager possessions and hid them outside of town -- in the cave Yun had been living in, as a matter of fact. He had no illusions. He could have stayed in today, worked a normal day making tea and chit-chat, and gone home to his room. And gone on doing that tomorrow, and the next day, and who knows? He might even be considered inoffensive and harmless enough of an outsider that no one bothered him.

But it would mean abandoning Lelouch. And every other plea for help on the network. Saying that his own peace and safety was worth more than the lives of others. And, that was not something Iroh could live with.

So, he had made arrangements to put his life on hold -- storing his worldly possessions, giving notice at the tea shop -- and took his place here. He'd already gone native, so he just had to put on his most practical clothing and tie up his hair. But his bearing had changed. It seems the general Iroh rather than tea-seller Iroh had returned.

"Who is in charge of the rescue?"
Feb. 28th, 2011 04:44 am (UTC)
Marco knows that it should be ultimately pointless. The natives here are executing something that can never die, only removed, and even then, that's not a given either. They either live on in this place or eventually fade away, a faint ripple in a vast ocean of nothingness and blank existence.

But that's not the point. The point is is not going to the end of the tunnel and seeing the light, but rather the making the journey and creating oneself. This is the life that Marco has carved out for himself, for his friends, and, yes, even loved ones. (How did Marco bring himself to love anyone is a bit lost on him, and that's for another day.) What really matters is making point in living, whether it is creating chaos, making humor, or caring for strangers. To take this one point of reality and claim it as your own -

is far more important than living life itself.

And, of course, Marco always has his pride, no matter how minuscule it may be.

Morphing osprey, he approaches the courtyard and lands at the roof above. He takes note of the red-head guy, some girl, Rin, Raikou, and the old man.

< Forget about being in charge, do we even have a plan? >

Of course, Marco has a few ideas of his own. Making contingency plans just happens to be a specialty of his.
Mar. 2nd, 2011 12:24 am (UTC)
"I don't really think so," Lavi says and glances up at Marco; that whole thing is still a bit of a weird concept to him, but he can deal with it. "But that's why we're here, isn't it? I think we can work something out."

Working out plans on the spot like this is something Exorcists do in their every-day life, after all, and he's sure they're not the only ones. They should be fine.
Mar. 4th, 2011 04:45 pm (UTC)
For the Distraction/Frontal Assault Team
Thread here
Mar. 4th, 2011 04:47 pm (UTC)
For the Stealth/Rescue team
thread here.
Mar. 5th, 2011 09:27 pm (UTC)
Lelouch's Death
{{ooc: This is solely the moment of Lelouch's death; since the rescue attempts haven't been logged yet, assume that it will be "inserted" into the proper moment in time when they are played out. I will write it in the best way possible to make this seem smooth. }}

Hope is the greatest paradox of human existence.

Sustaining. Destroying. Necessary. Painful. It heals and ruins, can drive one mad and then back into sanity all over again.

Lelouch has always believed in hope. Will always believe in hope. You can have everything you've ever lived for taken away from you except one thing: your next breath. The next tomorrow. The past is past, the present fades quickly, but only looking towards the future can people truly exceed their limitations. Lelouch has always believed this.

Rough hands wrench his bound arms, twisted up behind his back (now where, where, where has Lelouch felt this before?). Lelouch might be wrong. See, the thing is, they can take away your next breath. They can take away tomorrow. It's as easy as pulling the trigger (Clovis' brains all over the floor, the taste of powder and steel in his mouth all mixed together with Charles' blood). Easy. Lelouch has done it himself, hasn't he? He's done it easier - torn the light out of someone's eyes with as little as a single word.

The commotion has died down now. Lelouch swallows hard, tastes the grit at the back of his throat from the dirty rag they've gagged him with. He can't even cry anymore. He shed his last tears when Nunnally left. His friends have been captured, killed, worse, and Lelouch cannot feel anything but sick, sick and cold. Hope. He should have known better. He should have known a lot better.

"Traitor to the gods!" someone shouts, and the man holding Lelouch forces him to his knees, gripping his hair painfully and pulling his head back. The sun bears down, but it's a little past high noon now, a little off schedule. The sun is directly in Lelouch's line of sight; he can't look anywhere else (the red, the red, the red like a dying aged star, can't tear his gaze away his thoughts going supernova inside his skull black holes opening up tearing up opposing gravity wells ripping him apart, no, no, no don't remember that, is that what you want your final memory to be?), it's whiting out his vision, making his head ache even more as the voice continues, "The man you see before you has been convicted of blasphemy, of harboring a Fallen fugitive, of mocking and degrading our sacred laws. The gods demand his blood in recompense! See how they have given us the strength to strike down these Outsiders who sought to pervert this justice?"

The milling crowd roars and the din makes Lelouch's head ache even more.

Is this it, then? Is this the final moment of Lelouch's life? Will he return? Will it matter? His neck feels so exposed, so vulnerable; the cold sweat trickling down it feels like the touch of cold steel.

Sssssssssshhng. The sound of a katana being pulled from its sheath.

Panic lends him strength, or relative strength; Lelouch writhes in his captors' grasp, growls, grinds his teeth on the gag, his knees slide over the dirt and gravel (one is bleeding), but the people holding him are far too strong. For all that he is struggling, he is barely moving at all.

"Scream like a child, Outsider," one man hisses in Lelouch's ear with cruel relish. "There is no one to save you."

Lelouch can't see the hand readying the sword before him, or the looks on the faces of the crowd. Everything is whited out, the sun burning in his eyes for the last time.

A sound like the splitting of the air.

I hope Suzaku will forgive me

The sun is graying out.

He remembers seeing himself, in a dream, or someone else's dream, all the blood in him draining out.

(when's the blow going to connect, anyway?)

Maybe Nunnally was...
( 13 comments — Leave a comment )


Kannagara - The Way of the Gods

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