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Snippet #2738899

located in Youth Center/Hotel Place, a part of Banana Split--with a side of DEATH, one of the many universes on RPG.

Youth Center/Hotel Place

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Faussin Inusum Character Portrait: Graham Forester Character Portrait: Mercy Crocker Character Portrait: Clair LaBelle Character Portrait: Madoka Himura Character Portrait: Faqir Nawabi
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Madoka finally clawed himself to his feet, glancing over at Mercy. Faqir’s eyes took on an odd look; he touched Mercy’s shoulder once, still murmuring in his unknown language. As the screen changed, however, Faqir’s expression suddenly shot to life. Madoka turned to gaze at the screen.

A man faced them, keeping Faqir’s dark skin tone but with darker eyes and hair. A rather full mustache decorated his upper lip, but aside from that he was clean-shaven. His expression, at once warm and stern, somehow, carried the familiar spark Madoka knew from Faqir.

Faqir let out a shout, scrambling to get free from Graham. Instinctively, Madoka reached out and caught his sleeve.

“Faqir.” The man hesitated, fiddling with something in his hands. “...I hope you see this, boy. There are things you must hear me say if I never see you again.”

Faqir shouted once more, clearly desperate to reach the screen. Madoka clung to him.

“F-Faqir, i-it’ll be alright,” Madoka insisted, nearly breathless.

Unexpectedly, hearing his name seemed to calm Faqir down at least slightly--he stopped struggling, instead falling back against his stand.

“...Son, if something happens to me, you must get back to your mother,” the man continued. “You will be the man of the household. She will need you to provide for her and take care of her. So no matter what, get home to her. I am...we are proud of you, boy. Show us we are right to be proud.”

“I’m trying,” Faqir sobbed, clutching Graham’s arm.

The man onscreen’s expression wavered slightly, but he quickly regained his nerve. Whatever he held in his hand, he suddenly moved to the view of the camera--Madoka recognized a picture of a younger Faqir and an unfamiliar woman held in an intricate locket. At the sight of it, Faqir let out a loud sob.

“You two are what I fight for.” The man took a deep breath, shifting slightly. “I am going to find a peaceful way out of this, a way to return to you and your mother without anyone having to get hurt. And Faqir, you are going to do the same. If anyone can make it out of this nightmare alive, it is you. I know that.”

Faqir sobbed again, reaching to wipe his eyes briefly. He watched the screen attentively, still shaking.

“...I know that, because you are just like your father.” For the first time, the man smiled slightly. He murmured something in the same foreign language Faqir had been using earlier, then closed the locket and fastened it around his neck. Faqir shouted back to the screen in the same language, trembling. “...Let’s get home to your mother, boy. She is waiting.”

Just like that, the image faded to black and white--Faqir clenched his fists, sniffling.

The words that appeared next reduced Faqir completely rigid.

Qais Nawabi: Last Executed; Killed Harvey Ayton

Madoka bit his lip and glanced at Faqir, worried by how stiff he had gone.

What he saw stole his breath away.

Faqir was perfectly still, appearing outwardly calm...but his eyes.

His eyes carried an unspeakable amount of untapped rage. A deep fury the likes of which Madoka had never seen dominated his gaze to the point Faqir had seemingly lost the capacity to even express it.

When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly level--but in two short words, Madoka heard the pure, seething wrath invading every fiber of his being.

“...He won?”

Shocked, Madoka turned again to look at the screen. For the first time, he realized what weight those words carried.

But if Harvey was the last one to die...d-doesn’t that mean Faqir’s father was...the last one standing…?

He WON?” Faqir repeated, growling. “And you still executed him?”

“Of course.”

The instant change in Faqir’s expression from outwardly composed to downright furious told Madoka Akuma had said the worst possible thing.

“He reared such a despicable child,” Akuma continued. “I never had any intention of letting anyone live. Even if dear Harvey hadn’t offered to let him win, he would have died eventually. Ah...but he did leave behind this.”

Madoka glanced over at Akuma, admittedly terrified of watching Faqir’s face. Their mastermind held a vaguely familiar locket in his hand--Madoka realized it was the one Faqir’s father had been holding in his video.

“Once you are dead, I wonder how much someone would pay for this?” Akuma mused, examining the locket. “A piece made with love by the Ultimate Jeweler. Your father was good for one thing, I suppose. Not that it matters--his corpse is long gone--”

Faqir suddenly released a loud, feral roar, shoving away from Graham with an astounding strength. He charged Akuma despite his broken foot, full-on tackling the mastermind into the floor.

Madoka’s voice recovered too late. “Faqir, the remote!”

Faqir didn’t even seem to hear him, instead throwing every last drop of rage into a series of punches aimed at Akuma’s face. The jeweler screamed, each yell more bestial than the last.

However, Akuma never reached for any sort of remote to detonate Monokuma--in a flash, Madoka realized it must have been a hoax.

To keep us from attacking...of course.

His thoughts jolted back to reality at the sound of Faqir’s voice once more--if the maniac beating Akuma bloody could even be called Faqir.

“YOU F*CKING B*TCH!” With another scream, Faqir suddenly reached back to grab the Monokuma robot, yanking it closer. He grabbed the robot’s arm, studded at the end with sharp, knife-like claws, just as Akuma moved to try and get away. I’LL KILL YOU! I’M GOING TO F*CKING KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU LIKE YOU KILLED MY DAD!”

Madoka let out a loud cry, reaching out as if to stop Faqir from acting. Time seemed to slow to a crawl--against the shouts of Madoka and Levi to stop, Faqir took those razor-sharp claws on the Monokuma’s hand…

...and drove them into Akuma’s chest.

Madoka stumbled backwards, locked in a stunned silence at the sheer ferocity. Either unaware of or deliberately ignoring Akuma’s screams, Faqir continued to ram Monokuma’s claws into the mastermind--even after the screams eventually stopped.

D-dear God in heaven…

I’m scared of my friend.

“YOU KILLED BONNIE!” Faqir nearly shrieked, mercilessly tearing at Akuma’s maimed corpse. YOU KILLED ERIKO! YOU KILLED BRAEDEN! LOTTIMELIA, YUNO, ROMANO, FINNIAN, VIVARA, YOU F*CKING KILLED THEM! SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT, B*TCH!”

It wasn’t until Faqir shoved the bloodied Monokuma aside and began ripping into Akuma’s open wounds with his own fingers that Madoka finally snapped back to reality.

Nauseous and in shock, his legs carried him to where Faqir was hunched almost without his conscious direction.

Faqir!” Madoka threw his arms around the jeweler, heaving him away from Akuma’s marred body. Faqir screamed, wrenching himself free--again, Madoka grabbed him around the chest, yanking him back. Stop! S-stop, he’s dead! F-Faqir, stop!”

With one final tug, Madoka managed to tear Faqir off of Akuma, both of them tumbling back to the ground. Faqir continued thrashing and shouting, yelling obscenities at the bloodied mess he’d left.

“He’s dead!” Madoka repeated. “Y-you can stop, y-you can stop now...h-he’s dead, Faqir, y-you…”

You...murdered him.

At least five minutes must have passed before the jeweler finally stopped screaming, instead turning to wild sobs. It took another five for Madoka to finally release him, slowly moving away from Faqir. Faqir curled into the fetal position, shaking violently and sobbing like a child. Panting in fear and exhaustion, Madoka slowly glanced back at Akuma.

The...th-the keys…

Nearly dead on his feet, Madoka shambled towards Akuma and reached out to touch his first dead body.

Hands trembling, he searched around until he managed to pull the blood-soaked keys out of Akuma’s suit pocket. Madoka stepped away, breathing uneven.

I-it’s...i-is this really...a-ah…

God in heaven...i-is it really over…?