The click echoed through the hollow of Alex's mouth, but satisfaction at having passed another go only made her lips lift that much higher as she gracefully slid fingers over Karl's to take hold of the gun.
Stepping slowly around the small table, Alex slid herself between it and her brother, tilting her head to the side as she watched his expression, the minute ticks of his body as she forwent all concepts of personal space. A brush of her hip against his, a graze of their thighs, slender fingers reached up to curl around his neck to tug him down much as a lover might pull another down for a kiss. But rather than a soft caress of lips, there was cold press of metal to Karl's temple.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she began to apply the barest amount of pressure to the trigger.
"You're worried about your gun, but regardless of who wins, my basement is still going to need a thorough cleaning. The only question is, who will be the cause of the mess, hmm?" Now there was the teasing of lips brushing against Karl's, the warm tease of breath as Alex spoke.
Little bit by little bit, the hammer drew back.
It was either Karl's, or it would be hers in the next passing. There was no room for error, there was no time for regrets or failure. Fate and Chance had laid their path and it was only a matter of finishing the game.
And with that, she jerked her finger hard on the trigger.
The gunshot rung out in a deafening cacophony even as she felt Karl's body jerk against the sudden intrusion and destruction of brain matter. Alex's own flinching was more to the blood splatter that now stained her fingers and clothes.
Not dead, but not quite there either, her brother slid out of her grasp and down to the floor, the odd mixture of blood more than the oil or whatever it was that kept him moving, another sign of the passing times and that perhaps he should learn not to play games he might not hop back up from so easily as he once might have. For a moment, Alex just stood there, looking down on the crumpled god, the gun hanging loosely from her fingers as thoughts danced around in her head unhindered. There was satisfaction, of course. Gloating rights were hers, but so was one hell of a mess and inconvenience now that the thrill was gone.
Carelessly tossing the gun on the small table, Alex rolled up her sleeves with a grunt of annoyance before idly jamming a blood-stained thumb between her lips to clean away the stain. It wouldn't be a problem to heft up the dead weight from the floor to toss over onto a nearby cot, but it would take far more effort to clean away the bulk of the mess that her private 'office' was now tainted with.
Best to get the worst over now so that she could properly enjoy her victory, and count the hours until her brother decided to rejoin the land of the living -- if he did at all.