In the post-fight clarity, Viper had gone into hiding. It had been almost impossible for most to find her, as she spent her time actively dodging those she was meant to be catching and/or on the same team as. Perhaps some had caught little glimpses of her here and there, but being acknowledged had sent her skittering into hiding.
She hadn’t taken any of this time to sleep, or rest, or anything of the sort. Instead she had spent it plotting. Plotting just what she was going to do.
I’m nothing but a damn monster. It’d be better if everyone hated me. I should own it. Nothing will protect me now. My fate is sealed. Two people I’m meant to give a shit about and I almost killed them both.
Her plan had started unassuming enough. Using some of her new skills learned from Jack, she began gathering her resources. Clothing, furniture and more being pulled around on her segway when the coast was clear. The food court was her target. It took a while for her to assemble her plan- a raggedy throne of the corpses of furniture, piled high and coated with kindling and clothing. Perhaps some had been moved or stolen across the time she had been plotting it, but once the food court tables began moving around, her antics were much more obvious.
To those with noses- and…perhaps those of the ball variety, the musty smell of smoke wafted from the food court.
Viper, for the first time in at least an entire day, was facing those trapped on this train with her again. Sitting upon her throne of lies, she waits. Waits for her audience to assemble. Flames lick at the sides of the mound of items, swirling upwards to the self-made platform she sat on. She swirls a wine glass full of clear fluid, as the fire begins taking over. Flames roar, licking at her feet, but she stays remaining.
This was it.
Her final attempt to shut herself out from others for good.
If this didn’t work? She had no idea what she would do.
She was a terrible person. But it was time for her to own that.
Her gloves had been forgone for the sake of lighting the flames, and those paying attention would see green flickering across the palm of her hand, the other being the one holding the glass.
Looking down at the assembling fellow passengers, Viper almost sneered.
“…An audience. Good. Just what I needed.” Viper glanced down to the terrified denizens that had also gathered. “…Thank ya for coming, to witness this…ta witness my tribute.” Her numbered arm raises into the air, the other holding the glass over the pile of items. “Very well.”
“IN MEMORIUM TO THE DECEASED!” Her voice bellowed, loud, and not at all like herself. “FROM ONE DEVIL TO ANOTHER.”
The glass tips backward, accelerant sending the flames spitting upwards, framing her entire body much akin to some kind of horror movie.
“I SHARE A TOAST.”
Viper’s number began shifting so rapidly it showed no sign of stopping any time soon. It flickered and flickered for a couple of minutes, until finally, it settled.
Her number was not just on her palm any more. It had snaked from her palm, around the back of it, and all the way down to her wrist. 10 digits, bright and glowing.
Deranged laughter escaped the game dev, but it wasn’t true laughter.
It was to stop herself from sobbing.
