Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chance had always been one who jumped at the idea of a game. Of taking risks, putting their life on the line, just to feel the adrenaline. Just to get a kick out of it. It was an addiction he found himself craving for again and again. Perhaps that’s why, in this.. situation. An endless purgatory, to die and die again, with endless matches, Chance had.. never taken it as seriously as some of the others here. I mean, what did it matter anyways? When it seems they’d just respawn. Sure the pain was very real, every death all too visceral. But they always returned to the cabin in the end. So, it was like a game. A gamble, of one’s life. To die, or to escape.

Perhaps some of the other survivors didn’t.. take too well to his mindset. How he treated everything as some trivial game, how it didn’t matter. But wasn’t that exactly the case? Death seemed inconsequential here, in this strange realm. It was only the pain that marked anything. But even that didn’t last. All the scars just disappeared, for everything to restart all over again. Might as well have some fun with it, don’t you think? Here in this where, where nothing mattered.

So, how did it come to this, then?

It had all sprung from a most unusual match. Of course, it was still the standard old fighting and fleeing with their lives from some deranged maniac getting some sadistic pleasure from the bloodshed. Though, the killer this time was a new one. Not one of the standard four murder hobos he’d become all too acquainted with. Not that mute brute Jason, or psychotic kid with an absent father, or that green sword wielding maniac who also had daddy— or, well, creator issues (what is it with killers and familial troubles?) Or even that yellow and spiky, flat-faced freak. No, there was a new contender in the ring.

Which, it didn’t seem too out of the ordinary. It seems new people would be taken from their worlds and trapped within this realm. Another player added to the roster, a new face in this endless game. But still— Naturally, a new face was a point of intrigue and perhaps even excitement. Do you even know what this means?

A new opponent means an entirely new way to play. Someone to figure out. How they play, how they kill, and how to beat them. Entirely new stakes put down on the line. A new wager, a new bet. An entirely unknown factor, now an addition. Finally, something to change the pace. Chance had almost started to find these other killers, and even the other survivors, rather predictable. But this? This was a new finding. Something, someone to latch onto and study. To poke and prod at, to wager against. A new gamble. That’s what it was. And naturally, our finest gambler simply had to get in on this.

It had started out at that. Simple intrigue. Interest at this unknown variable, wanting to dissect and understand it for what it was. 

and yet, for once, Chance found himself stumped. The other killers— They all had their motivations. But this one? He couldn’t quite figure out their character.

The intrigue really started, when, one on round.. It appeared Chance had become the last man standing. Alone, and face to face with a killer. His stamina exhausted, and health low leaving him covered in injuries, he turned around, still with that cheeky smile ever plastered on his face— And Chance rasped, “Hey— Can’t we just sit down and chat for a minute? I’m not going anywhere, anyways.”

It was just a silly proposition he’d given out when he knew he was going to lose this game anyways. Might as well shoot his shot, right? And what Chance hadn’t expected was that the killer actually stopped, pausing for just a moment. They tilted their head, staring at him strangely. Perhaps it was out of profound confusion, of something else. But the killer actually relented. Hah. How.. intriguing.

in just these few moments, Chance had the opportunity to get a better glance at their appearance. Of course, he’d spotted them a few times, but this was one of the first times these two actually properly interacted face to face. Usually, they were just a black and purple blur, chasing him down to meet some gruesome end. But now, they were stood still. Chance could actually get a good look at their features.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Soft but prominent muscles. They had a very strong and big build— their skin was a dark, blackish purple. Their clothing, specifically their top, a brighter purple. They also wore a hat which Chance might associate with a stereotypical witch, and the hat even seemed to have a face of its own. And, ah, those tendrils. They had at least four of them, protruding from their back. The tendrils almost seemed to have a consciousness of their own, twitching and wriggling. Like a bunch of snakes. 

and then, the killer spoke. “…And what, pray tell, do you wish to.. converse about?” Their eyes narrowed, eyes which were just a solid glowing purple. No pupils of anything. Yet, there was an almost enchanting quality to that. They certainly had a pretty face, for what it was worth. An appeasing quality. Far more pleasing compared to some of the other killers, at least. And their tone? Strange. It was rough, spoken with a growl almost. Yet, somehow, it was not unkind. Perhaps a little irritated or confused, but there was no underlying hint of menace to it that Chance might have associated with some of the other killers. That in itself brought its own intrigue.

But Chance didn’t let himself get distracted by their appearance or attitude for long. Only processing and observing every little action and reaction they took for just a second or two. Clearing his throat, Chance offhandedly commented, “You know, usually I don’t get this far. Most other killers would 'a been slicing and dicing me up by now. But not you. You’re.. different.” In more ways than one.

Chance noted, there was a bit of a twitch to his remark. How he remarked on them being different. The tendrils on their back flared up a little— Was it agitation? Surprise? Upset? Or something else? He couldn’t quite read them yet, and he rather not set off this killer too much, so he quickly cleared his throat and moved on from that subject. Instead, he found himself asking, “Let’s start off with somethin' simple. Hows about your name?”

The killer paused at that, staring at Chance strangely for just a moment. They tilted their head, perhaps in confusion, and then their gaze darkened, and they scoffed. Yet, perhaps for a moment, there had been something else in their gaze. A flash, a hint of intrigue. One that Chance caught well enough. It was the same kind of intrigue that layed behind Chance's own eyes. An interest at this strange and unknown variable. Perhaps they weren't all so different. And as the killer crossed their arms, their voice rumbled, "Here I have you, giving your last words. And of all the things that could be spoken of-- marks of scorn, or questions of me, you.." They paused, glancing back over to Chance, giving them another look over. "You wish to know my name?"

And Chance, he just laughed softly in amusement. Ever that sly smile to remain on their face, they mused back, "Well.. I ought to put a name to the face of the person whose a 'boutta put me through a whole load of pain, yeah? I mean sure, I'll respawn anyways. But I should at least get that privilege, no?" 

The killer seemed to take his words with great consideration. At least, that's what seemed so from what Chance could observe. From what he could pick up, they seemed to take just as much consideration of Chance's every word and actions as Chance did for them. And perhaps Chance felt some growing kinship with every growing second that they interacted. It was strange, truly. Chance found himself drawn to them in a way he never before had been drawn to anyone else. They were simply a puzzle that Chance needed to solve and complete. Yet, there were pieces missing. He just needed to find them.

After a moment of contemplation, he was awarded with a name. "Azure. If you must insist, you may refer to me by that." And Azure's voice was a little smoother. The way they even spoke own their name, it seemed to just.. roll off their tongue. It was a pretty name, for sure. 

And as if on cue to such a response, Chance did a bow and tipped his hat before them. As he smirked, his own tone growing far more playful now, "A pretty name for a pretty face." He might have even considered taking their hand and kissing it if he really wanted to commit to this stupid bit, acting like some stereotypical old and proper gentlemen (even though he was far from being such a thing), but he withheld himself. Chance saw the way they twitched at just his words. And he might at least try to preserve his life for a few seconds longer, if only to prolong this interaction. So, Chance quickly stood straight back up, adjusting his tie and clearing his throat again. Not giving Azure the chance to respond before he finished, quickly adding, "Name's Chance, by the way."

And then, Chance just watched. Maybe they pushed a little much with that pretty face comment, but had that ever stopped them before? No, of course not. he'd been a little flirty at times, all in good fun. It was just stupid banter, really. And seeing other's reactions to it was something Chance quite enjoyed. Especially when he caught them off guard with his playful and teasing words. But Azure? Their reaction was.. interesting. They just seemed to twitch a little and go silent, staring in thought and contemplation of their own. They didn't say anything at first. Then, after a few painfully long moments, they suddenly leaned in, getting almost uncomfortably close. 

And then they smiled. 

Chance found himself a little dumbstruck by their reaction, and even moreso, when their hand brushed against his face. Claws gently finding the curves along his jaw and then grasping just at the edge of his chin. Tilting his head up, so that Chance was staring directly into their gaze. "I might say the same about you-- A pretty face, hm, Chance?"

Ah.

For once, Chance's playful and confident facade crumbled, just a little. Really, they stared at Azure, stunned for just a moment. They barely even noticed the close contact either-- rather, their brain just frozen up. It was like getting caught in one of 1x1's entanglements, just stood there dumbly. Chance hadn't really expected them to bounce back on his flirty nature so easily. And besides their words and touch being a big stroke of his own ego, it was also, in a way, taking him down a notch. Someone who actually matched his own nature and returned it in kind. It was a strange feeling, an unfamiliar one, and yet not an unpleasant one. 

Chance still found themselves struggling to find the right words for a response, which was embarrassing in a way. To be caught off guard in such a simple manner. And they would find that they would not be able to make their next response in time. For the timer was cutting short, meaning this match was soon to end. He'd almost forgotten that too. No sooner, did he feel those claws, gently cupping his face. It was in stark contrast to the tendrils that snaked around his throat, coiling around it, and beginning to apply pressure. Chance could only stare, as Azure remarked, "It was a pleasure. I do so hope we can interact again soon. You'd like that too, wouldn't you, Chance?" 

Chance almost wanted to say yes. But he choked down those words-- Literally and figuratively. He was quite literally being strangled, as the tendrils gripped harder along his throat, unrelenting, and yet almost graceful in the way they slithered around his skin. Somehow, their touch managed still to be almost tender in a way. Chance didn't really struggle much. Only twitching and spasming in natural reaction to literally being strangled, and.. Azure, who slowly lowered him to the ground. Azure's face, which was all Chance could find themselves staring into as the fuzzy blackness overtook his vision and senses. Somehow, he found their actions endearing in a way, even as his throat was constricted, disallowing any air from being inhaled. 

And when Chance awoke back in the cabin, he found himself alone with purple bruising around his throat. He saw the others sat within the main longue, but he did not join them. Instead, they just sat there, rubbing their hand along the bruise. It'd disappear soon enough. The scars always did. Yet, in some way, Chance almost wished it didn't go away so quickly. It was a strange reminder, a mark, of such a strange interaction. Chance's mind lingered, replaying it all over and over in their head. Every detail, every second of it. It was.. fascinating. A new subject of intrigue. A different kind of game, so very different from anything he'd established in his time here.

Thinking on it, he smiled, for just a moment in his thoughts. Yes, Chance would like to interact with Azure again soon. 

Chapter Text

Today's batch of rounds were... Well, not going too well. Everyone was quickly growing more and more exhausted and agitated, he could tell. Even Chance himself found himself down on his luck. It started a little something like this-- First, there was that.. C00lkidd fella. They took to targeting Chance first. Something at getting back at their last encounter, where Chance had managed to land hit after hit on him, and they kept whining and crying over it. Well, served them right, in Chance's mind. They'd whined about how he wasn't any fun, or that they were going to tell their dad, in some overly childish and bratty manner. Look, Chance usually could care less, but it was a little irritating when they'd start whining to Chance about how they were ruining the game, or something along those lines.

Then, strangely enough, in this particular match, Chance happened to be hanging near that 007 person. The one with the burger hat and weird shirt-- He'd never particularly paid any mind to them, as they seemed content in doing their own thing. Plus, their constant downer energy put Chance off from actively wanting to engage with them. They swore that man could not smile for the life of them. But then again, Chance supposed they couldn't blame him. They were all stuck in this living purgatory after all. Some coped better than others, and some coped like 007-- That is, to say, terribly. 

Yet it was not that in which the issue arose. Rather, it was when they'd been working on a generator together, and C00lkidd came rushing in. Chance, of course, immediately reared up to take aim and stun the killer for just a moment. But just as Chance had the perfect line of sight and made way to pull the trigger, 007, without warning, pushed him, nearly tackling him nearly. Yelling at him to stop, pleading, "Don't hurt them!" Which, of course, resulted in both 007n7 and Chance taking a hard tumble, Chance's gun firing off into the air, and slipping from the gambler's grasp. Chance was so dumbfounded by one of his own teammates stopping him that he had little time to react, before C00lkidd went straight for him. It was a quick death, at least. 007n7 got the both of them killed, and leaving a sore spot with Chance's throat, that he was particularly a little peeved once they woke back up in the cabin. But really, Chance just sighed and shrugged off the hint of frustration. It wasn't worth it. He just left 007n7 on the note of warning him not to do that to him again. 

So, Chance went into the next match with a particularly sore throat. There was John Doe who he ran into next, in which that ended with spikes impaling him right through the lungs And of course, John Doe was feeling particularly sadistic and left him to bleed out there-- Left on the ground, choking and drowning in their own blood that bubbled in their throat, unable to breathe. Gasping, and looking rather like a fish out of water, until their vision paled out into nothing. When they awoke in the cabin, they still felt the phantom pains of this poking, stabbing feeling within their lungs, leaving them short of breath. A very, very unpleasant feeling. To make matters worse, they woke with the taste of blood still filling their throat. Of course, revival was always a little.. messy here. It was not perfect. Perhaps to only add to and make this never-ending hell worse. It seems that even reviving within this realm had its own gambles, with injuries or scars still persisting. They'd usually disappear with another revival, but it made the experience no less unpleasant. Especially when it seemed evidently so that luck was not on Chance's side today when it came to revival pains.

Then, there came the latest irritation of the last match-- 1x1x1x1. Or, well, 1x, as best as Chance could shorten it. The killer was relentless, and they'd found themselves coupled up with Elliot and Guest 1337 with anyone else in the group having already been quickly killed off. Though, Chance only really loosely stuck around the other two. Then again, Chance only really loosely stuck around most of their teammates. Sure, he'd pitch in for a generator or shoot his gun to get a killer stunned while chasing someone else. Occasionally. But he'd never found himself quite close to any particular person here. Maybe some people he viewed in a more positive note than others, such as Elliot, but he supposed that mainly came from them helping everyone out all the time. Chance wasn't particularly close to anyone of these people, and that was just fine by them. They didn't need to be all buddy-buddy.

Though, the irritation came when things didn't go so well. First shot, his gun didn't fire. And he took a slice, clean through the arm. It was always surreal, 1x's blade cut through his body like butter. And it was always terrible, that lingering glitching poison they gave-- A strange sort of infection. 1x was certainly a nasty piece of work. How the strange virus always made his head pound, and his vision get all corrupted. Never a pleasant sight. And the sunglasses certainly didn't help with their messed-up vision. It went away soon enough, but it was always such a headache. 

Chance found themselves running back to Guest and Elliot, Elliot who helped bring their health back up. They always found it peculiar how a pizza could ease their wounds, but it was just another strange aspect to this cursed realm. Guest blocked some of the hits, and when Chance had managed to reload their gun, Guest was taking a little too much damage and pressuring Chance to take the shot, if only to get the killer off them for a second. But the second shot didn't go so well either-- Chance missed, and.. Well, Guest ended up taking a brutal death. Sliced up, and then promptly decapitated. Elliot was felled quickly after that. And then, came the third shot. The third shot, which didn't go so well either. Chance's gun blew up, the item exploding in their face, all the little pieces of shrapnel cutting right into their face. That's what killed them, too, and promptly ended the match.

Suffice to say, when Chance woke up back in the cabin, soot still on their face, they were faced by a not-so happy Guest 1337. Usually, Guest wasn't so bad. Though Chance didn't know them well, they tended their own needs and such. But everyone was feeling a little agitated, especially after a long set of not-so-great matches. With Guest pointedly jeering, "Do you want to talk about that shot back there, Chance?" Of course, they were talking about the one he'd fumbled and missed. He was rather close, so it's not like he had the range to blame. Chance just messed up a little, he knew that. He'd been off his game this whole day-- Not that you'd catch him admitting that to anyone else aloud. 

But Chance was not one to back down and swallow their pride. He just leaned back, picking a small chunk of shrapnel still lodged into his cheek, and tossing it to the side, shrugging. "Moved out of the way when I was pulling the trigger. No big deal, I'll get 'em next time."

Perhaps his nonchalant tone only served to agitate more. As they scoffed, crossing their arms, "No big deal? Lives are on the line here!"

Chance blinked, before chuckling softly. He tilted his head and remarked, "You'll respawn and sleep it off. It's not something to get that peeved over, mate." Though, his eyes narrowed a little behind the sunglasses, as they watched Guest's every little twitch. It seems that, ah, their every word was proving only to make them more upset. Perhaps he should have backed down and tried to change the topic, or something, but Chance wasn't particularly in the best mood to care about people's feelings right now. They were irritated too. 

"The pain's still real-- those deaths are still real. And you always treat it like it just doesn't matter! You'd throw away people's lives and say it doesn't matter--" Guest's words were a little more pointed, a little more accusing. Though, Chance knew that this came from no place of malice. Rather, a place of too much caring. Chance knew, Guest cared far too much for everyone, putting his own life on the line, all the time, throwing himself into danger, just to get the others help. And now, Chance could see as they so outwardly spoke of it, that Guest didn't like the way Chance was so.. opposite to that. That, sure, Chance didn't have any true malice, but they didn't take those lives seriously at all. Lives that Guest treasured above all else. Someone who desperately wanted to lessen the pain of suffering of everyone, versus Chance who just.. seemed rather apathetic about the matter.

Chance tilted his head down, in thought for a moment. As they simply hummed. Things would be left on that note, it seems, as Elliot interjected, moving to calm Guest down, and play peacemaker here, lest some big argument unsettle everyone in the cabin. They needn't need any infighting, not here. Everyone could at least agree to that. Chance didn't fault them for the anger, either. He knew they were just getting increasingly agitated over this situation. He himself was getting increasingly annoyed. It wasn't a fun matter for anyone. It'd become so repetitive and menial that even he lost most enjoyment he could make of these games. Just the same old formula. 

That's why they had intrigued Chance so much.

A little while later, there was one last match of the night, and it was the one Chance had been all but waiting for in anticipation. Though he was still exhausted from those past run-ins, Chance found themselves once more matched with none other than Azure. And once more, Chance was the last survivor stander. Though, they had a feeling Azure purposefully avoided crossing their path until the very end-- Not that Chance minded. All the better, in fact. It gave some time for Chance to collect themselves before the coming interaction that they so eagerly anticipated.

"So, we meet again." Their voice seemed almost smoother than before. Gliding so easily along, almost an easing sensation against Chance's ears, compared to the headache inducing irritation of everything that had come before this. "You look like you've seen better days." Was it that obvious? Chance might almost feel a little self-conscious about that-- Fixing his hate and tie, then his posture, at those words.

Then, Chance smirked, playfully hitting back, "Maybe I just missed you that much? Never a prettier face than yours." As he passed a sly smile to them as well, regaining his confidence just enough to do with his usual banter. 

Azure hummed, chuckling softly. They smiled, staring strangely for just a moment. Before playing into it, their own voice growing just as playful, as they stepped a little closer, closing the distance between the two of them. "Oh, you poor, tortured creature. I do hope I haven't kept you waiting too long, mm?"

Chance may have caught off guard the first time, but he wouldn't let himself falter so easily now. Really, he only stopped to admire the nature of this all for just a moment. No one else indulged him in such a way-- Though, Chance supposed they didn't really interact with others too horribly much to give them the opportunity. Still, there was a certain attraction there pulling them towards Azure that simply wasn't there for anyone else he knew. Some kind of kinship, perhaps. Especially now, seeing them tease and play into Chance's antics. It almost made that attraction grow. Like a pull, a tug, only strengthening. with every growing moment. 

"Maybe a little too long." Chance jokingly pouted, before tilting his head, noting the way Azure always seemed to be staring into him. Was it intrigue? Calculation? Chance was still trying to decipher whether it was of similar fascination and intrigue to himself, or something else.

Azure just chuckled softly, circling around Chance and stopping by his side. And naturally, Chance just watched, his gaze following the other who loomed over him at every moment with their given interaction. Chance stared curiously, as they moved, and suddenly rested a gentle hand on their shoulder. The touch delicate and assuring in its own way. As Azure looked into them a little more sincerely, "Though, seriously, what's got you so down, hm?"

Chance faltered a little when they brought it back to such a topic. Just a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly, offering up sheepishly, "That obvious, huh?"

Azure nodded, turning, and gesturing to a spot for the both of them to sit and settle down at. So, they did. Sitting on the ground, facing the other. And there, Azure gestured for Chance to speak-- no doubt to talk about what was actually troubling them. 

Chance paused for a moment, debating on what to even say. It was a little weird, reflecting on this. They barely actually knew Azure all too well. This being only their second interaction. Yet, Chance might feel more comfortable to them than he would his own teammates. But then again, he wasn't particularly close to them, either? Still, at least they had the benefit of knowing them longer and practically forced in getting along, for what it was worth. And yet, still, Chance felt more open here, with Azure, in some way. So, under their insistence did Chance finally relent. Remarking, "I suppose I haven't exactly had the best day. Other killers were no fun. Though I guess that's a given. And my teammates? Well, I wouldn't really call us a team, if ya get what i'm saying."

Azure seemed to take a little intrigue in that, as they nodded to Chance's words. Remarking, "Not quite a team? Do you dislike them all, then? From what I've seen, they certainly don't have the most charming traits. Quite dysfunctional, aren't they?"

Chance snorted to that last bit, "You could say that.." Though, as he considered it, he would find himself disagreeing with their first assumptions. As he answered, "But, uh, nah. Don't hate any of 'em. Sure, can be aggravating at times. But.. they're not bad people. Just normal people who're stressed out and, well, reacting reasonably to the circumstances here. I guess. Sometimes they get pissed n' stuff, and we'll not get along with everyone, but they.. try. I guess." He shrugged.

And then, strangely, Azure laughed. 

A tendril swooped in, gently grasping Chance's face, and tilting it up towards the killer. Where his gaze behind the sunglasses met the purple glow of their eyes. 

Azure leaned in, "Oh my dear fool, those people are the worst of all--" their grip tightened, just a bit more. Enough to cause some tension and be uncomfortable, but not yet enough to hurt. "They're desperate, and angry. Have they yelled at you? Disregarded you yet?"

Chance was about to interject, but Azure did not give them the time or opportunity to make a response. Instead, Azure continued, their voice growing colder and sterner as their eyes narrowed, "It's always the desperate ones, who'd be willing to throw your life away. To betray you, leave you to bleed out, when you needed their aid the most. And then make you out to be the monster." Their grip was becoming just a little painful now, but that's when they finally ceased. The tendril withdrawing, returning to their back. 

Instead, they cupped Chance's face, gently now. Their voice hush, "You have a nice smile. Don't let them break that." And perhaps, for a flicker of a moment, Chance could see, could have sworn he heard this deeper hint of sorrow. Some deeper emotion-- And in that moment, Chance knew. Azure was not lying. They were speaking straight from the heart. There was a deep, unspoken grief. There was something so very vulnerable about that very flicker of a moment, and so, Chance nodded slowly to their words, understandingly. 

And then, there was some truth to it, wasn't it? 007n7 wasted both their lives, and Guest seemed almost ready to turn on him and rip into him after a sloppy match. There was a new light shed that he'd not considered before. If he had continued pushing Guest, would they have turned against him? Or 007n7, who seemed all too ready to sacrifice themselves to a killer-- There was a relationship there, Chance could guess. With C00lkidd and 007. If it came down to it, they'd probably sacrifice Chance, or even other survivors, for that killer. Perhaps Chance should have considered being more careful. 

How funny. 

Chance might feel more secure with this killer than his own teammates.

He supposed that was all too sad in a way, too. He couldn't really rely on his teammates. They were strangers. And they were desperate people. And, as Azure put it, desperate people can turn to almost deranged measure. Chance knew desperation himself. They supposed they should have considered that more. Yes, desperation could sincerely make people turn to terrible things.

Azure seemed satisfied at that acknowledgement, fully drawing away from Chance. From there, they just.. Had conversations about average things, up until the timer ran out, and Azure had taken to sparing Chance this time around. Another bit of relief for a terribly long day. When Chance awoke in the cabin, he still tended to himself. Perhaps just a little more wearily in the presence of others, but at least that interaction with Azure had been the one relief after a rather horrible chain of events. Really, he felt a little renewed after all of that. And perhaps, in a way, due the nature of their conversation, just a little closer to Azure. 

He understood them, just a little better, and yet somehow, they remain ever an enigma. One Chance only craved to know and understand the whole of.

Chapter Text

Time was hard to keep track of within this realm, but it must have been weeks that passed by, or maybe even longer so. It was near impossible to truly say. Yet in whatever amount of time it must have been, Chance found himself growing nearer and nearer to Azure. At first, it was just this sort of interest they allowed, and then when they started talking more, it became more. Soon, they'd started a little game, in a way. of course, Azure was still a killer. some kind of flesh-eating monster from what Chance had learned, and Azure still had to kill. But occasionally they'd chat. Or, when facing off against each other as one does as killer and survivor, they made a game out of it. Teasing and taunting one another. A little flirting never hurt. Though, Chance did find himself getting a little too overly flustered at times, perhaps. While Azure, not so much. They just seemed to laugh off his every comment and then hit back with something that caught Chance off guard even more so. Which was strangely humbling, in a way. For someone with an ego as high as Chances, Azure managed to somehow, simultaneously, stroke it and knock it down a peg. 

But it was all so entertaining, nonetheless. Perhaps even the parts where Azure might throw a flirt towards Chance, fluster them, and then kill them, scoring a point in their game-- Which, yes, they had started taking to keeping track of how many times Azure might kill him, or that Chance might escape with his life as the timer ran out. And sometimes, funnily enough, Azure would use those flirts to fluster Chance and then promptly kill them, which Chance would take to calling unfair, or cheating! But they'd have to begrudgingly accept the loss, no matter how much is bruised their ego and esteem. 

And this, in its own sense, was different. It was fun. It was nothing like any of the other survivors or killers. It was something only Chance and Azure indulged in. Their special little game. 

Of course, with that, came the growing sensation of feelings. Match after match, oh how Azure would very much so fluster Chance. The way they'd smile and purr out his name. Or perhaps call him dear or gently hold him and wipe the blood from his face before killing him. A gentle sort of caress, one that was almost strange and foreign to Chance, yet all too welcome. It was all so new, so lovely. With every gentle touch, every lovely word, every little smile that Chance treasured, those feelings only seemed to grow and blossom. And then, Chance would only end up becoming even more flustered with every flirt, every touch. 

It made them soft. 

Funny. Chance didn't like being soft. He thought he'd never know such a feeling. Sure, he's hit it up with other people before. A flirt, an intimate touch, maybe something even more, something deeper. But never, was it like this. They were more like hookups than anything else. Nothing truly genuine. Nothing meant to last. He knew when he saw a pretty face, an attraction, but never did he feel so deeply as he did with this. Never, did Chance feel themselves stuttering and stumbling for once. What happened to their all too confident and unshakeable persona? Their standoffish, risky nature? To be reduced to this. He almost felt himself start to become nervous within their presence. That being around with them, experiencing them, it was surreal. What was this feeling, when their heart was beating so heavily out of their chest? And Azure could see it, yes. They'd laugh when they'd see Chance reduced to such a melted puddle of emotions. Then tease him more, perhaps call it cute. 

Did they even feel a fraction of what Chance felt?

With every growing interaction, this feeling, this longing, this aching in their chest, in their heart, it only became worse. Chance couldn't put a name to it, couldn't describe it, so they kept to silence until they could. But how could they properly put it into words? When it seems like their entire world shook, their entire perception of reality. Something surreal and incomprehensible? How could one even begin to put that into thoughts? 

You couldn't. 

But perhaps actions spoke louder than words?

Chance had thought Azure understood just as well as they did. With how they watched, how they indulged it all. Played into it. Of course they knew. How they teased him about it, holding it over their head.

So, here Chance found themselves. It was another match, where Chance had asked of Azure to sit down and chat. So, with the other survivors already having been killed off-- Azure had taken to the habit of always leaving Chance for last to make their interactions and games all the more interesting-- Chance and Azure were now sat down. Before the other. Starting out with a simple conversation. Something along the lines of just speaking of how their days had been, with the occasional flirt or tease thrown in. Then, the conversation turned to something else.

There, Chance sat. Their back gently pressed against the wall, as their hand lazily twirled and played around with the coin between their fingers. They glanced to Azure beside them, suddenly putting on a sly smirk, as remarked, "Y'know, if we weren't all stuck in this purgatory forced to kill or run and survive, well.. You'd make a pretty decent gambling partner." It made Chance laugh a bit, amusing the thought. Oh the days, when Chance would strike high in casinos, running the slots, or partaking in a very high stakes game of poker. Those glory days, where Chance was always winning big, and yet, in a way, it was a sort of lonely experience too. Sure, he had friends and buddies. But for the most part? He was truly only. Playing into these risky sorts of games, and what? The moment he fell, the moment he lost, they'd be at his throat, ready to plunder him for all that he was worth. Yes, Chance played in very serious sort of business with perhaps sketchy sort of parties. Perhaps they never associated with the best people, but that was just another aspect to the game, wasn't it? Except.. It made it a tiresome, isolating sort of business. Yes, a friend. A partner. Or.. something more? Something fully and truly genuine. Sounded too good to be true, especially in that sort of business, but.. It was a nice idea.

Azure seemed intrigued at the idea. They raised an eyebrow, humming, "Oh? And why is that?" Their voice as rich, velvety smooth, and pleasant upon the ear as ever. Other survivors had found fear in it. Remarking on how could and cruel or condescending they could speak. But not Chance. No, their voice was one of many aspects that they couldn't help but admire. 

"You like the chase as much as I do. Our game here. We both play our odds, place our bets, and let the dice roll. High stakes, high rewards-- Well, I suppose the reward is higher in my case-- That being my life. But, uh, well. Hah. You get the point." And then Chance paused for a moment before they'd add their next words. Their smirk faltering slightly, as they eyed Azure carefully, "Besides, you've been keeping me around for a reason, yeah?" An added thought. That they'd make such a good partner because, well, they got along so very well, didn't they?

Azure stared, for just a moment. That lost comment Chance had added, it gave way for pause, for consideration. Before, Azure's tone turned mocking. And they teased, "Oh, how adorable. You think you're special."

Chance, clicking his tongue and feigning mock offense, hummed, "Think? C'mon, babes. If I weren't, you'd have been gunning for me, killing right on ahead every round we met. Giving not a single care in the world for any of my words--- but you don't." 

Chance found himself staring directly into their gaze, almost challengingly, as Azure stared back. Leaning in, they smirked. And their voice, now dripping with condescension and mocking humor, they'd remarked, "Oh my dear Chance, you misunderstand. I enjoy watching you dance for me. It's cute, really."

Their faces were so close now, both of them, keen on observing every miniscule, little twitch and reaction from the other. To see who might crack first. It was another game. Another challenge. Once Chance very readily leapt into. As he chuckled, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. And here we are, just the two of us." They pause, their usual cocky smirk softening just a bit. Morphing, in a way. Changing, it something just a little more genuine, perhaps. "You don't have to say it, y'know. I already know." He seemed so sure. After all, Azure knew all too well, didn't they? They were not blind, nor was Chance. 

And Azure, tilting their head, feigning innocence at such a remark, asked, "Know what?" Their voice, too, just a little softer, having shifted almost as if to mirror Chance's shift.

Chance, for just a moment, looked over Azure, once or twice. Then, pushing to answer, they straightened up just a little just where they were sat. For just a moment, they didn't feel so assured. But they passed that off. Instead, they assured, "I think that you like having me around. That you---" He exhaled, just a momentary pause, searching for the right words, almost desperately for a flicker of a moment, in hopes of not sounding too forthcoming or vulnerable. "--Don't mind me sticking close." And then he smirks again, but there's a twitch to his smile. Just a flicker of instability, struggling to hold up the walls. "Maybe you even like it."

Azure was silent.

For just a few moments, they hummed thoughtfully, considering Chance's words, his insinuations. Their eyes narrow, and they lean in. Finally, they speak. Their voice, its soft. Dangerously close to gentle. Affectionate, even. Yet, their question is one to puzzle Chance. It' such a simple question, and somehow still one to put everything in the moment to a complete halt. 5 simple words.

"Would that make you happy?"

And Chance is.. stunned. He stared, as if looking for Azure's face, their expression, for some kind of answer. But he doesn't find one. They're strangely unreadable, instead, just staring back, keenly observing Chance's startled and flustered state. Was this a tease? A flirt? Or something else? What was that even supposed to mean? Of course it'd make Chance happy, knowing fully and certainly, that they enjoyed his presence just as he did theirs. That they felt that same compelling feeling, that same stirring. Was that what they were asking? What they wanted to see, to know? Or for some other reason? It was so sudden, and so jarring, that Chance sat maybe puzzled for what felt like a minute or more (though was likely far shorter), unsure of which approach best to take to such a question. 

Then, as if remembering Azure was still there, Chance put on a grin. Though, it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Wouldn't hurt."

Azure, murmuring, playing along with his games, hummed still. Lifting a hand, their claws grazing ever so gently, just very so softly brushing along Chance's jaw, and tilting his head up. Their touch, so very featherlight, teasing, perhaps an invitation to lean into something Chance has been chasing for far too long. Yet their words, an almost mocking contrast. Yet, contrarily so, their voice a sweet kind of tender and enticing. "Poor thing. You really think there's something here worth holding onto?"

Chance, if anything, leans into their touch. Just slightly. Just enough to see if Azure will let them-- 

After receiving no further response. No pull away, nor increase of touch, Chance continues. Leaning in just a bit more, as their voice turns to a whisper, with just a flicker of desperation in a way they tried to hide. "I know there is." And he stares, deep into Azure's gaze just as he says this, staring at the whole of them. 

And Azure pauses, their eyes narrowing. Strange, in a way. They know where this is going, don't they? They can see it. They can hear it. It doesn't need to outwardly be said and put into words to know. To feel it. They lean in, their mouth just hovering above Chance's ear, their voice drooping even lower. A near whisper, almost the same as Chance's had been. And Chance almost shudders a moment as their breath brushes against his skin. "Tell me, what do you think happens if you say something truly foolish right now?"

Chance's heart is beating fast. Pumping in their chest, yet somehow, they'd barely noticed it until it was practically pounding. "I think you'd love it--" And then, without thinking, Chance moves. A hand on Azure's cheek, a slow, cautious sort of touch, gently pulling them to face him directly again. Leaning in close themselves. His breath, warm and uneven against their skin. He isn't playing anymore. This isn't a joke. This isn't one of their games. It's something real. And for the first time, too real. "--Maybe as much as I love y--"

It all happens so.. fast. In an instant, really. Azure’s hand is gone from his face. Claws, slashing. They tear through his cheek, cutting through skin and muscle as easily as a sharpened pair of scissors tearing and shearing through paper. It happens so fast, the pain is hard to even process until the wet and cold trickling settles down Chance's face against the gash. Then, their body slams into his, shoving him back against the wall behind him. Then, too, Chance feels a sudden pain when they shove his hard so hard into the wall that it cracks. A pounding, in the back of his head, shared with the burning and wet feeling on his cheek. A sharp, bloodied claw grips his throat—not tight enough to choke, but firm enough to warn.

Their eyes are narrowed, icey cold. Almost unfamiliar, in a way. Yet, it was not like the look of the other killers that he'd soon when they'd caught him, ready to end his existence. There was no predatory sadism, or even apathy. Rather, there was this tidal wave of emotions, leaving behind a shell of what once was. There was something so much deeper that Chance could never begin to understand. The one thing they could manage to pick up from such a mess of emotions was.. hurt. So much hurt and pain in Azure's eyes. Uncontrolled, and transformed into a passionate and unyielding fire. 

"Don’t."

Chance freezes. His pulse pounds beneath Azure’s fingers, his body tense with the sudden shift in energy. And oh, his head is aching. His face burning. It hurts. Yet, somehow, strangely, he feels more hurt within Azure's gaze. More pain than what Chance feels in this moment, a different kind of hurt. A scar, far, far deeper, now resurfaced upon Chance's intrusion.

When Chance tries to stutter out some kind of response, their voice is hoarse and raspy. Cracking, just slightly. Shaking.

"Azure—"

Azure’s grip tightens for a fraction of a second before shoving them back with force. Chance stumbles, just barely catching themself on the wall pressed behind their back. Instinctively, one hand moves to their face, pressing against their cheek, which makes it sting more. The pain, a bulging pain, blood still gushing from the gashes that dug rather deep into his face. Perhaps not the worst injury he'd received, only because the other killers could get quite sadistic, but it was no less intense and blaring. A reminder, of what they both were. Of their position. Which is maybe what made it hurt worse.

“You do not get to say that to me.” Azure stared hard, looming over Chance. For once, in their many interactions, actually feeling bigger and different. Strange and unfamiliar, yet all too familiar. For once, it's how it should have been. Predator looming over prey, killer stood before a survivor. “You do not get to ruin the game.”

Chance swallows hard. One hand is pressed against their cheek, covered in blood. The other moves to rub at his throat, stunned into silence. For the first time, he feels truly small under Azure’s gaze. Chance just stares at them, breath shallow. When he finally musters the courage to brave a response, their voice is still shaky and quiet, and almost disbelieving. Trembling and caught off guard, as he tried to reason, to justify. 
"I thought—"

Of course, Chance was not given the permission to speak, to continue. No. They were quickly cut off, as Azure coldly and sternly interjected. Their tone, a near hissing venom. A scalding remark. "You thought wrong."

The finality in their voice is suffocating. Any illusion that Azure had been indulging him, that this was all just part of the game, is gone. For the first time, Chance doesn’t know what to say. His throat aches where Azure’s fingers had been. His head and cheek burn and pound from where he'd been hurt and scorned by the killer, but it’s nothing compared to the dull, cold ache in his chest. Or the glimmer of hurt that they'd caught in Azure's eyes. Something so very different, a deep and profound sort of trauma that remained. For a moment, Chance saw that.. Azure didn't truly see Chance as Chance. That there was some familiarity, that Azure was reminded too deeply of something else. An unspoken scar unearthed by Chance. 

And there was silence, for a long time. 

It was only the timer, nearing the end, did it finally break whatever dark and tense sort of spell had been cast upon the pair of them. Seeing there was little time left, did Azure finally relent. And so, they reached forward. Chance flinched a little, as their claws brushed his hand away, and cupped his cheeks. Gently, once more. It felt strange now. After tasting the kind of hurt they could very well inflict. How could one be so sweet after causing so much hurt? But then again, they knew and understood hurt too. 

They wiped the blood away and were so tenderly gentle about the gashes in his skin. 

"I'm sorry."

Their voice was soft. So very sweet. So strange. Maybe it was genuine. Just a bit. 

It did feel nice, being held so delicately like this. Like someone picking up the pieces of the antique vase they'd dropped, carefully trying to glue it back together. "You scared me." They let themselves sound so very vulnerable. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

And Chance believed it. They hadn't. He had, after all, seen that hurt and betrayal in their eyes. It was so strange, and confusing.

"Just... Please, don't do that again."

They'd gotten too close. Too real. Just for a moment. Chance was quiet. Still stunned into silence, but their so very kind touch and words were hard not to feel comforted by. But, nonetheless, they slowly nodded. And Chance just let Azure hold and soothe their wounds until the timer ran out, and they'd find themselves alone again with no presence to soothe within the cabin. Not one that could know or understand, at least. Not one that he dared bother in his stewing silence within the cabin.