capeandcowllogs | THE GREATEST SHOW UNEARTHED

WHO: The HABIT

whocouldwinarabbit and his eighteen lucky Rabbits.
WHERE: Yankee Stadium.
WHEN: Tuesday, November 13 afternoon onward.
WARNINGS: Not for the children. Graphic murder expected.
SUMMARY: THUNDERDOME.
FORMAT: Whatever our contestants would like.

"Rise and fucking shine, campers!" blasts the loudspeaker.

Eighteen bodies. Not a bad turnout. He's hauled them into the locker rooms to wake up together, tied balloon strings to their wrists, the balloons Skittles colors. Angora, some say in sharpie, Flemish Giant. And all have a smile drawn on, bunny ears on top.

"You're probably wondering what the hell you're doing here, right? Wonder no more! Welcome to the Trials, rabbits. Time to feed the HABIT."

The crowd roars in response, their fists in the air. They're not nearly enough to fill the stands, not hardly, the count's barely crawling up to a hundred -- but it's the impassive eyes of the cameras set up around the stadium that matter. These idiots are just for the noise of it.

"Now, see, the rules to this game are real simple. All you gotta do is kill everybody else. That's it! What could be easier, right? Knife in the brain. Sword in the guts. I don't care how you do it, just do it, meat. Look at it this way: the Porter'll bring you back good as new. So... what's keeping you? Besides, hey... the winner gets a prize."

HABIT laughs tinnily through the sound system, over the sound of the crowd. "If one of you makes a break for it -- go ahead! I encourage it, make your move -- but you will notice that there's no escape. Can't have you spoiling my fun, now can we? The good people up there in the stands paid twenty-nine ninety-nine for a show, and by fucking golly, they're gonna get it."

"Now... if you'll look at the balloons for your group assignments. Flemish Giants, why don't you come on out here? No, no, hey, don't be shy. Being first is a big ol' honor. So show us some blood!"

He hits the music, and opens the doors.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Now that he's inside, and properly able to look around, he can spare the time to recognize some of the faces in the room. He hadn't really been able to, before, balloon snapped off his wrist and forced out the door before he had a chance to get a look around.

Max is one of the more familiar faces to him, and he accepts the towel gratefully, wiping at his hands and face. There's nothing to be done about his suit - it's ruined - but he wipes at that too, for all the good it does. Then he goes still, hands draped over his knees as he listens to the crowd cheer outside.

Finally, he speaks, and when he opens his mouth she can see he's worried his bottom lip nearly bloody. ]

This is fucking messed up.

[ She doesn't make any attempt to start the conversation, because she doesn't know what to say or how to feel or really anything that doesn't involve a desire to scream and run, and she's trying to keep herself under control here.

When he does speak, it takes her a long moment to reply. ]

Yeah. Yeah, it's really fucking messed up.

[ A long beat, and she clears her throat. ]

So you're a finalist.

[ He looks down at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap. It's easier than meeting anyone else's eyes. Not because he's ashamed of what he did - he is, but it's not what matters right now - but because he knows that anyone here, in this room right now? They could be who he has to kill next.

They're all so fucking young. ]

Looks that way. [ He pauses. ] I don't think I'll be replying to any other party invitations on the network again.

[ She's still trying to find a way out, because that's - it's what her brain is for, right? Must be. She's a genius, and there's a way out. She has to hold on to those truths right now or she'll lose it. She can't kill anyone. She just - she can't do that. ]

I'm sorry. I thought - I knew he was dangerous, but he wanted us to tell people so we thought no, maybe we can put a cog in the wheel -

[ She stops dead. She hadn't really meant to say any of that. The guilt is just overwhelmingly constant and pressing, and she's probably going to die sometime in the next few hours. She lifts her head, glances over at him. ]

I hope you win. I hope you win and find a way to kill him.

[ In truth, he'd maybe been half-listening to what she was saying, but those words -- I knew, we thought -- make his head come up, slowly, like a sleeper waking from a dream. He can hear the guilt in her voice as plain as day, knows the sound of regret all too well. He looks at her, hardly even registering the rest that follows. ]

Who's "we"?

[ His voice isn't accusing, but his stare is steady and unwavering. Mitch knew this was going to happen, is his first, crazy thought. Mitch knew this was going to happen and he didn't do a damn thing to stop it. But neither did Max. ]

[ Of course he concentrated on the part that feels incriminating, and that's almost a relief, in some small, strange way. ]

Me. Nygma. Whoever he talked to, if he did.

[ Shifting uncomfortably, running her hands across each other, through each other, because now that she has said it she has to figure out what else there is to say. Slowly. ]

I knew he was a threat, but lots of people are threats and I never had any proof he'd actually done anything.

[ If anything, mentioning Eddie's involvement just confirms Bradbury's suspicions that Mitch must have known about this, or at least had some idea. Mitch had already mentioned that he and Eddie had a handle on this, when they so clearly didn't, or at least not enough of one to prevent this from happening.

Bradbury keeps his gaze on Max, unblinking, before he sighs and looks away. ]

Well, I don't think anyone could have guessed he'd pull something like this. Or that he could. [ He lapses into silence, and then speaks, quietly, so that only Max can hear. ]

You talk to this guy a lot? Got any idea what he's out to prove?

[ She meets that gaze, a heavy swallow and her mouth dry but refusing to look away, determined to demonstrate that she wasn't hiding anything further. It was important.

She wasn't sure why, but in this moment it was. ]

He said he had plans, but this -

[ How could she have thought it would be this? She takes a deep breath in and out. ]

I've talked to him some. He just - he likes evil. Or is connected with it.

[ "Evil" sounds like something out of a storybook or a fairytale, so much so that Bradbury would laugh if he didn't think Max really believed it. Shit, even just with what he's seen so far? He kind of believes it too.

There's a long pause. Outside, the crowd roars.

Finally, quietly: ]

We can't let him get away with this.

[ Even if some might say he already has. ]

[ She doesn't just believe, she's at this point fairly thoroughly convinced. He's not human, she knows that much. He's not - there's been stranger, hasn't there? There was apparently a human incarnation of Desire in the City at one point. Death had been here for a little while. Why not Evil, in some capacity?

She winces just a little bit at the escalation of noise, waiting for the call of angora. ]

That's a nice sentiment, but we're all going to be dead very soon.

Maybe when we come back.

[ Bradbury's mouth twists at that, though he doesn't argue the point. He hasn't completely given up on finding a way out yet - or at least, he doesn't think he can let himself. But he doesn't know what he could tell Max that doesn't ring hollow. Even so... ]

What makes you so sure we will? [ He turns his head, looking at her directly. ]

Come back, I mean.

[ Because part of him still has difficulty accepting that concept, of all things. A world with superheroes and villains -- that he can accept. But it feels like life and death, of all things, should at least be something he can expect to stay normal. ]

[ Right now, looking at him and what just happened, she's given up a little bit. Despair never lasts particularly long with her, though, it will be out of her system in not too long.

She doesn't look over at him, just shrugs a little bit and keeps her face as neutral as she can. ]

Because I did.

... Ah.

[ Unsure what can be said after that, he falls silent, hands clasping together in his lap. Until they're called up, until all the fights finish, there's nothing to do but wait. ]

[ Yeah, that - puts a slight damper on conversations. Which is funny, because they're surrounded by death already. But you know.

She takes a deep breath and sits for a long time, absolutely silent until finally angora is called and she stands abruptly, hand flexing. ]

Good luck. In the finals. [ Not watching him. ]

THE GREATEST SHOW UNEARTHED

fyeah i need more betsy in my life

8D

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