red

[aunter]

R E D > You enter the door and find yourself in a glass box, suspended in the sky. Bright blue skies, white fluffy clouds, even birds pass by in the air around you. One look down and you see grass fields and sprawling lakes as far as the eye can see. Some wild horses running across the fields, some cows, just exactly what you'd expect. It's idyllic as fuck. Then the words appear:

Comments

[wheatcake]

[And Peter just-] You- that was your- and I-

It sacrifices our people! Whatever happened to Sara happened to her family, her friends, her- her students, I- [And he's still holding the knife. He looks at it.] This is just a joke!

[He slams the knife into the table. It doesn't land as hard as it would have, doesn't shatter the table like he wanted, but it jostles it enough to roll the dice...]

[A 1. And now that he knows what it will do... He stares in open horror.]

[lost_first]

[ James is no stranger to watching children die. It's something that has filled most of his existence: his brothers, his friends, boys he loved as dearly as his own limbs. When he sees the child in the box, the dead eyes, he nods with grim understanding.

So. It's that manner of game. From one fire into another, then.

When Peter jostles the table, he almost barks; he'd told the man to be careful, not to let the die move unintentionally. It lands, and he knows that there's nothing to be done about it, that it can't be re-thrown, but he snatches it up to hold it in his good hand, and there is nothing that could get him to let go of it unintentionally.]

Good luck.