... I'll take that as a no then.
It wasn't hard to tell that Rosa didn't like the fact she'd yet to discard her weapon. Not that Vera could really blame her... After all, from Rosa's perspective SHE was the bad guy who'd broken into her hideout uninvited. She had every right to be suspicious of her... Lets see if I can amend that.
"Alright then... I'll toss the gun over in a second."
Before she began disarming herself, Vera decided to take the opportunity to close the office window behind her. The last thing she needed now was for someone ELSE to suddenly break in unexpectedly. After she'd closed it, making sure that it was locked firmly in place, she made her way back to the partially open doorway as she prepared to unload her submachine gun.
She looked over it again one last time, the Intratec DC-9's distinctive appearance reminding her once again about the time her father had attempted to teach her about this gun in particular. How little she remembered him telling her about it... Never in her life did she expect to REGRET ignoring her fathers pointless lessons... Which in hindsight, were probably not as pointless as they seemed at the time.
She sighed to herself, flipping on the safety as she prepared to remove the magazine from its chamber. She was about remove it, her hand grasping the magazine tightly, when suddenly... A thought struck her. What if Rosa wasn't telling the truth? What if she EXPECTED her to throw away her only weapon so that she could safely gun her down herself? What if she was just jumping to conclusions, assuming that Rosa wouldn't be playing just because they happened to know each other back at Bayview. She remembered watching people who were the closest of friends gunning each other down back when she used to watch SotF with her family. Hell, Danya showed them a clip of EXACTLY that kind of thing happening! Between that monster J.R Rizzolo and his own girlfriend... His OWN. GIRLFRIEND! And Vera didn't even particularly KNOW Rosa! And she was about to throw away her weapon just because she...
Wait, no... This is silly! This isn't some deranged pyschopath, its Rosa Fiametta! The girl all those boys in class kept falsely claiming to have slept with, not the girl who everyone feared would shank them if they so much as laid an eye on her...
Back when she was facing an unknown foe, she couldn't help but be paranoid. ANYONE could have been hiding there, waiting to strike once they got the opportunity.
But now that she had a voice... Had a name... No, Vera just refused to believe any of her classmates would be INSANE enough to do such a thing! She couldn't picture ANYONE playing: Not Sarah, not Dutchy, not Clio, not Reiko... Hell, not even that self-righteous prick Dustin Royale would ever dare to actually KILL anyone! So why should she expect Rosa to play along?
Naive? Yes. Overtly Optimistic? Also yes... But dammit, Vera hadn't lost hope on her class yet... If some like her could resist the game, then why the hell shouldn't the rest of the school?
But, what about Southridge?
No, Bayview's different... Bayview doesn't have any latent psychopaths like Nathanial Harris or J.R Rizzolo... How could I ever dream of comparing to two?
She shook away any lingering thoughts of doubt as she removed the magazine, placing back into the duffle bag and zipping it up. She leaned through the open doorway, taking one last look at her unloaded gun before skidding it across the room and lightly hitting the dishwasher ahead of her...
God, I hope I'll be able to get that back eventually... What if Rosa decided to make a dash for it?!?
No, that'd be pointless... Theres no magazine in it, remember? Besides, if a worst case scenario occurs and she DOES make a leap for it I'm sure I can just wrestle it out of her hands...
... Well, guess now is a better time than never to finally show myself...
She took a deep breath, praying that the next few minutes wouldn't be her last as she stood through the door into the hallway. She didn't move into the lounge QUITE yet, and instead waited for Rosa to finally show herself. She couldn't spot her yet from where she was standing, seeing as the bedroom wall blocked most of the sofa from her eyesight. Even so, she still allowed herself to relax somewhat... Not too much though, seeing as there was still the off-chance Rosa was playing. She made sure the door was open wide enough for her to dive through should that be the case.
"There you go... I assume this means we can stop hiding from each other like frightened bunnies then?" she asked, allowing her usual tone of voice to seep through.
One of Three
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"... Trent? Bud?"
Craig could only stare, dumbfounded, at the boy that had passed out right in his arms. For lack of a better term, the situation was terribly awkward. Trent had woken up from his little nap, and that was a good thing. The blood all over his face was something of a bad sign, though (and now it was getting all over Craig's shirt. Yuck. It was hard to find shirts in this size!). "What are we doing here..." Craig groaned, allowing the cabin behind him to support his and Trent's weight, because he sure as hell didn't feel like doing it at the moment. There was too much to think about for something as difficult as standing.
The boy waded through the thick pool of sludge in his mind, separating reality from the drug that had yet to completely disappear from his veins. Unless the school trip involved waking up somewhere random and then meeting up with the rest of the class to party, this wasn't the school trip. "Where are we..." Craig muttered to Trent, who he hoped wasn't suffocating against the pile of dough he dared call a chest. He hoped Trent could wake up and miraculously offer some sort of all-knowing answer, but wasn't that wishful thinking at its finest?
Last time Craig was awake, what happened?
There was a gunshot. A lot of gunshots actually. Craig had the misfortune of being taller than nearly all of the students of Bayview (minus that Imraan guy; Craig wished he could have that sort of height without being morbidly obese). There was nothing obstructing his vision from watching what had happened, even though he was closer to the back. He had looked away, though, before the deed was done.
People had died, hadn't they? They were really dead. It was one thing to see Superman die, to watch Gwen Stacy's neck snap, to witness Deadpool's numerous 'deaths', to watch Magneto be ripped apart in that one issue of Marvel Zombies. Craig's teachers weren't characters in a comic book. They were all people he genuinely cared about.
The lump in his throat returned with full force, and Craig dry heaved a little, but there was nothing left in his belly to puke up, luckily for Trent. "I'm not... no, no no... I'm not..." The realization had finally begun to set in, but Craig did all he could not to fall to rock bottom. "I'm not doing this. This is stupid, this... so stupid..." He looked down to the smaller boy once more. It would be so easy to just push Trent down, and... who knows, maybe jump up and down on him a little. The idea of murder was just so alienating, and... that's all it was. Murder. Killing Trent would be murder. Killing captain Sturn would be murder. Killing Reika - Craig momentarily smiled as he remembered her pretty face - that would be murder. It didn't matter how mean they were to him, even Rachel and Meredith... killing was killing.
It was impossible. Abhorrent. Craig wasn't a villain.
"Let's... let's get you inside, buddy!" Craig wondered how the hell he was going to do accomplish this mission, with both his daypack and Trent to carry, but he had to do it. If he managed to find the door to this place and get Trent inside, he could set him down, maybe find some food. Craig's stomach growled a little. Ugh... typical fat kid, Craig. Don't worry, once we get him inside, maybe... oh man, they... if those jerks took my cakes, they're gonna pay! His mind immediately flew to the stash of peanut butter bars, ring-dings, twinkies, and cupcakes that he had taken with him in his backpack, just in case the food he was served on the trip happened to suck. He hadn't even looked in the daypack he had been given, but it was alien to him. It could have a year's supply of little debbies and hostess snacks, or probably just bread and water... wouldn't that be cruel.
"O.. Okay!" Craig grunted, pushing off of the wall. He set Trent against the wall where he was leaning, letting him slide into a sitting position (unless he happened to wake up), and stretched his arm out for the ugly daypack on the ground. His fingers fumbled and groped, just inches from the strap, until they managed to reach the strip of plastic. Okay, so now he had both Trent and the daypack... so far, so good. Craig grunted and pulled in his arm, reeling in the bag until he could resituate his grip, slinging it onto his shoulder. It was just as heavy as always.
Yeah, this is going to SUCK.
Craig brought the strap to the other side of his neck so it wouldn't come off, then put both of his arms around Trent's body, looping under the boy's underarms so he could carry him that way; he couldn't really think of a better way to do it. Step by agonizingly stressful step, Craig lifted and dragged the boy around the station. Thankfully, it didn't seem that big, and he rounded the first corner fairly quickly. He looked... no door. Cursing under his breath, Craig continued dragging Trent along the length of the wall, hoping that the next one had a door.
Whatever god happened to be watching his plight (Craig hoped it was Thor) had taken a liking to the boy's struggles. Trent was little, at least compared to himself, but he had grown so goddamn heavy between where Craig had started and his trip to the second corner, but at least this wall had a door. Scooting and shuffling over to it, Craig pressed Trent against him with one arm and tried the handle. It seemed to turn, but pushing on the door didn't do anything. He slammed against it, trying again... nothing.
"Hey... hey, is anybody in there?" Craig shouted, using both hands to hold Trent again. He was sure he remembered hearing voices inside the building before. "Open up, it's Craig! Is anybody in there!?"
Craig could only stare, dumbfounded, at the boy that had passed out right in his arms. For lack of a better term, the situation was terribly awkward. Trent had woken up from his little nap, and that was a good thing. The blood all over his face was something of a bad sign, though (and now it was getting all over Craig's shirt. Yuck. It was hard to find shirts in this size!). "What are we doing here..." Craig groaned, allowing the cabin behind him to support his and Trent's weight, because he sure as hell didn't feel like doing it at the moment. There was too much to think about for something as difficult as standing.
The boy waded through the thick pool of sludge in his mind, separating reality from the drug that had yet to completely disappear from his veins. Unless the school trip involved waking up somewhere random and then meeting up with the rest of the class to party, this wasn't the school trip. "Where are we..." Craig muttered to Trent, who he hoped wasn't suffocating against the pile of dough he dared call a chest. He hoped Trent could wake up and miraculously offer some sort of all-knowing answer, but wasn't that wishful thinking at its finest?
Last time Craig was awake, what happened?
There was a gunshot. A lot of gunshots actually. Craig had the misfortune of being taller than nearly all of the students of Bayview (minus that Imraan guy; Craig wished he could have that sort of height without being morbidly obese). There was nothing obstructing his vision from watching what had happened, even though he was closer to the back. He had looked away, though, before the deed was done.
People had died, hadn't they? They were really dead. It was one thing to see Superman die, to watch Gwen Stacy's neck snap, to witness Deadpool's numerous 'deaths', to watch Magneto be ripped apart in that one issue of Marvel Zombies. Craig's teachers weren't characters in a comic book. They were all people he genuinely cared about.
The lump in his throat returned with full force, and Craig dry heaved a little, but there was nothing left in his belly to puke up, luckily for Trent. "I'm not... no, no no... I'm not..." The realization had finally begun to set in, but Craig did all he could not to fall to rock bottom. "I'm not doing this. This is stupid, this... so stupid..." He looked down to the smaller boy once more. It would be so easy to just push Trent down, and... who knows, maybe jump up and down on him a little. The idea of murder was just so alienating, and... that's all it was. Murder. Killing Trent would be murder. Killing captain Sturn would be murder. Killing Reika - Craig momentarily smiled as he remembered her pretty face - that would be murder. It didn't matter how mean they were to him, even Rachel and Meredith... killing was killing.
It was impossible. Abhorrent. Craig wasn't a villain.
"Let's... let's get you inside, buddy!" Craig wondered how the hell he was going to do accomplish this mission, with both his daypack and Trent to carry, but he had to do it. If he managed to find the door to this place and get Trent inside, he could set him down, maybe find some food. Craig's stomach growled a little. Ugh... typical fat kid, Craig. Don't worry, once we get him inside, maybe... oh man, they... if those jerks took my cakes, they're gonna pay! His mind immediately flew to the stash of peanut butter bars, ring-dings, twinkies, and cupcakes that he had taken with him in his backpack, just in case the food he was served on the trip happened to suck. He hadn't even looked in the daypack he had been given, but it was alien to him. It could have a year's supply of little debbies and hostess snacks, or probably just bread and water... wouldn't that be cruel.
"O.. Okay!" Craig grunted, pushing off of the wall. He set Trent against the wall where he was leaning, letting him slide into a sitting position (unless he happened to wake up), and stretched his arm out for the ugly daypack on the ground. His fingers fumbled and groped, just inches from the strap, until they managed to reach the strip of plastic. Okay, so now he had both Trent and the daypack... so far, so good. Craig grunted and pulled in his arm, reeling in the bag until he could resituate his grip, slinging it onto his shoulder. It was just as heavy as always.
Yeah, this is going to SUCK.
Craig brought the strap to the other side of his neck so it wouldn't come off, then put both of his arms around Trent's body, looping under the boy's underarms so he could carry him that way; he couldn't really think of a better way to do it. Step by agonizingly stressful step, Craig lifted and dragged the boy around the station. Thankfully, it didn't seem that big, and he rounded the first corner fairly quickly. He looked... no door. Cursing under his breath, Craig continued dragging Trent along the length of the wall, hoping that the next one had a door.
Whatever god happened to be watching his plight (Craig hoped it was Thor) had taken a liking to the boy's struggles. Trent was little, at least compared to himself, but he had grown so goddamn heavy between where Craig had started and his trip to the second corner, but at least this wall had a door. Scooting and shuffling over to it, Craig pressed Trent against him with one arm and tried the handle. It seemed to turn, but pushing on the door didn't do anything. He slammed against it, trying again... nothing.
"Hey... hey, is anybody in there?" Craig shouted, using both hands to hold Trent again. He was sure he remembered hearing voices inside the building before. "Open up, it's Craig! Is anybody in there!?"
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
There was a skittering sound, then a light 'thunk' as something - presumably Vera's gun, hit one of the kitchen appliances. Rosa was about to extricate herself from her hiding spot and reveal herself to the other girl when a wave of paranoia surged up within her. What was to say she'd really tossed the gun? After all, all she'd heard was the sound of an impact, she couldn't exactly identify what the object that had been thrown was just from that. What if Vera had thrown ... well, anything of a reasonable size instead of the gun? She could be waiting there for Rosa to show her face just so she could open fire.
Rosa found her feelings perfectly justified. It was an instinct thing. Normally, Rosa wasn't nearly so cautious, but normally she wasn't on an island where there could be a killer around every corner, either. It balanced out.
She ignored Vera again, cogs turning in her mind. Rosa had to either find a way to ensure the other girl was telling the truth, or assume that she wasn't and find a way to get the hell out of there. One option was the windows alongside the sofa, but they all of a sudden looked incredibly exposed. If she was being stalked, then she'd present a fine target.
Rosa let out a tiny sigh, barely audible. Best to try and get all the information before psyching herself out. Running without all the facts in hand wouldn't be smart, not with her bags lying abandoned in the bedroom. She had to check this out somehow.
Squirming forward, Rosa crawled her way around the back of the sofa, grimacing at the tight confines between the furniture and the wall. She could already feel aches setting in from how long she'd been behind there. So much for running away, she'd probably have muscle spasms. Reaching the end of the couch, Rosa slowly, very slowly, stuck her head out into the open. Unless she'd miscalculated, she wouldn't be visible from the office from here...
Right... there, the gun's right there, let's chill the fuck out.
Rosa picked herself up off the floor and stepped into the open. Vera was exactly where she'd thought, standing in the doorway of the office. The Fiametta inclined her head very slightly, not much disposed towards relaxing her guard. There was a long way to go for trust here. A nice body hardly meant a reliable person. Rosa herself knew that.
There was a hammering at the door of the cottage, but luckily Rosa's obstruction was holding. Seemed that blocking the door with the armchair had been a good idea after all. Then, a voice.
Craig... I only know one Craig. Fat Craig. Fuck, that guy's huge! Football player to boot. It'd be my luck to run across one of JJ's cronies...
"Craig what the fuck do you want?"
Yeah, she wasn't in much of a mood for 'polite'.
Rosa found her feelings perfectly justified. It was an instinct thing. Normally, Rosa wasn't nearly so cautious, but normally she wasn't on an island where there could be a killer around every corner, either. It balanced out.
She ignored Vera again, cogs turning in her mind. Rosa had to either find a way to ensure the other girl was telling the truth, or assume that she wasn't and find a way to get the hell out of there. One option was the windows alongside the sofa, but they all of a sudden looked incredibly exposed. If she was being stalked, then she'd present a fine target.
Rosa let out a tiny sigh, barely audible. Best to try and get all the information before psyching herself out. Running without all the facts in hand wouldn't be smart, not with her bags lying abandoned in the bedroom. She had to check this out somehow.
Squirming forward, Rosa crawled her way around the back of the sofa, grimacing at the tight confines between the furniture and the wall. She could already feel aches setting in from how long she'd been behind there. So much for running away, she'd probably have muscle spasms. Reaching the end of the couch, Rosa slowly, very slowly, stuck her head out into the open. Unless she'd miscalculated, she wouldn't be visible from the office from here...
Right... there, the gun's right there, let's chill the fuck out.
Rosa picked herself up off the floor and stepped into the open. Vera was exactly where she'd thought, standing in the doorway of the office. The Fiametta inclined her head very slightly, not much disposed towards relaxing her guard. There was a long way to go for trust here. A nice body hardly meant a reliable person. Rosa herself knew that.
There was a hammering at the door of the cottage, but luckily Rosa's obstruction was holding. Seemed that blocking the door with the armchair had been a good idea after all. Then, a voice.
Craig... I only know one Craig. Fat Craig. Fuck, that guy's huge! Football player to boot. It'd be my luck to run across one of JJ's cronies...
"Craig what the fuck do you want?"
Yeah, she wasn't in much of a mood for 'polite'.
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Hollyquin*
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
[[Maria Santiago continued from I'll Need A Saviour]]
I hate these woods...why are there so many trees? Who decided this was a good place to hold, like, the killing-people-game? Couldn't we have done this some place with more houses? I'd be okay with the whole dying thing if I could take a nap, a decent shower maybe...no, no I wouldn't be, but I'd feel a little better about it, I guess. Ugh, why do boys have to be so STUPID? I could have gotten the Bodyguard Brigade to walk with me to the nearest house and protect me until I stole a good weapon and ALL of that fun stuff but nooo, they had to get into a stupid fight because they're all stupid and paranoid and stupid. And now I'm stuck in these dratted woods and-
Maria blinked. Apparently she'd spoken too soon.
There was a clearing up ahead. She saw the gap in the trees. She ran for it.
Oh god, a place without trees, even if it's just another freaking meadow or whatever, at least I can take a break, eat some more chips, all that-
She reached the clearing. There was very good news, and very bad news.
Very good news: There was a building here! With walls! And a ceiling! Maria cherished the very thought. She could take a nap on an actual bed and maybe find some actual food and use an actual bathroom and-
Very bad news: She hadn't found it first.
There was a boy. Well, more correctly, two boys- one carrying the second. He appeared to be saying something- she wasn't close enough to make out what it was. Nor, she hoped, was he close enough to see her. Just in case, she ducked behind a tree- as badly as she wanted to run for the door and for the nearest bed- and stayed there, peeking out just enough that she could see what was happening. Hopefully the boys would leave, and then she could go take a freakin' nap. Or something.
I hate these woods...why are there so many trees? Who decided this was a good place to hold, like, the killing-people-game? Couldn't we have done this some place with more houses? I'd be okay with the whole dying thing if I could take a nap, a decent shower maybe...no, no I wouldn't be, but I'd feel a little better about it, I guess. Ugh, why do boys have to be so STUPID? I could have gotten the Bodyguard Brigade to walk with me to the nearest house and protect me until I stole a good weapon and ALL of that fun stuff but nooo, they had to get into a stupid fight because they're all stupid and paranoid and stupid. And now I'm stuck in these dratted woods and-
Maria blinked. Apparently she'd spoken too soon.
There was a clearing up ahead. She saw the gap in the trees. She ran for it.
Oh god, a place without trees, even if it's just another freaking meadow or whatever, at least I can take a break, eat some more chips, all that-
She reached the clearing. There was very good news, and very bad news.
Very good news: There was a building here! With walls! And a ceiling! Maria cherished the very thought. She could take a nap on an actual bed and maybe find some actual food and use an actual bathroom and-
Very bad news: She hadn't found it first.
There was a boy. Well, more correctly, two boys- one carrying the second. He appeared to be saying something- she wasn't close enough to make out what it was. Nor, she hoped, was he close enough to see her. Just in case, she ducked behind a tree- as badly as she wanted to run for the door and for the nearest bed- and stayed there, peeking out just enough that she could see what was happening. Hopefully the boys would leave, and then she could go take a freakin' nap. Or something.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"Huh? What the-"
Craig's face was struck by the words of the girl on the other side of that door. Particularly striking was the mention of his own name, which made the harsh refusal all the more personal. Sure, with so much stress pouring down on him at the moment what with the situation as a whole, plus Trent's weight leaning on him (as if Craig didn't have enough weight on his own), it was easy to be offended. But just... the bitterness in which the girl had said it, in that particular voice of hers...
Wait. That voice. Craig couldn't fail to recognize that even if he wanted to.
"Rosa? Come on, let us in, please!?" Craig whined. "I've got Trent here, and h-he's busted up good!" Everybody in the school should've known Rosa, at least as far as Craig was concerned. Some might've known her a little... well, a little more intimately than others, but he knew what it was like to be rumored about and teased, so he wasn't going to go there. Then again, it wasn't like Rosa was throwing flower petals and chocolate kisses at his feet, either. Hell, she was probably the kind of person that wouldn't even crack a smile when reading The Tick.
He hoped that his pleading would have some effect as he held the semi-concious boy in his arms, or against his flab; it was sort of hard to tell which one was actually doing more of the work, much to Craig's irritation. He was looking forward to that surgery following this school year, the thing that would finally fix that damned gland so he could work off the pounds. So much for that. This wasn't Survival of the Fattest, after all. But he wanted to live so bad...
"Rosa, please, I don't know how bad it is, but... b-but it looks really, really bad! Like, he's unconcious and everything!"
Craig's face was struck by the words of the girl on the other side of that door. Particularly striking was the mention of his own name, which made the harsh refusal all the more personal. Sure, with so much stress pouring down on him at the moment what with the situation as a whole, plus Trent's weight leaning on him (as if Craig didn't have enough weight on his own), it was easy to be offended. But just... the bitterness in which the girl had said it, in that particular voice of hers...
Wait. That voice. Craig couldn't fail to recognize that even if he wanted to.
"Rosa? Come on, let us in, please!?" Craig whined. "I've got Trent here, and h-he's busted up good!" Everybody in the school should've known Rosa, at least as far as Craig was concerned. Some might've known her a little... well, a little more intimately than others, but he knew what it was like to be rumored about and teased, so he wasn't going to go there. Then again, it wasn't like Rosa was throwing flower petals and chocolate kisses at his feet, either. Hell, she was probably the kind of person that wouldn't even crack a smile when reading The Tick.
He hoped that his pleading would have some effect as he held the semi-concious boy in his arms, or against his flab; it was sort of hard to tell which one was actually doing more of the work, much to Craig's irritation. He was looking forward to that surgery following this school year, the thing that would finally fix that damned gland so he could work off the pounds. So much for that. This wasn't Survival of the Fattest, after all. But he wanted to live so bad...
"Rosa, please, I don't know how bad it is, but... b-but it looks really, really bad! Like, he's unconcious and everything!"
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
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Hallucinojelly*
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:17 am
Trent liked it here, in the dark and the gloom. It was much nicer now that the man in the screen had gone; far less of a nightmare world. Having been more aware of his condition he would've worried, but this was not the place for worrying, no sir. This was the place of the abstract and the heart, where the only demons now bore far less of a grudge than they had done before. They didn't even sharpen their sticks any more, since they were becoming far less afraid of the curious child who had entered once again into their secret home. However, they remained wary of the visitor as he lay down by the riverbank, watching him stare into the rippling waters pouring past his feet.
His eyes held all of the guilt he'd received from his previous visit, knowing full well that he'd somehow lost his way on the path towards his goal. What was his goal, anyway? Something... dangerous, he expected. Something hard to accomplish. Whatever it was, he knew he needed help to reach it, but who was there to turn to out here? The demons wouldn't aid him in his endeavour, although he could probably guess why. Sighing, he dipped his hand into the waters below, splashing them around in the black until his hand felt icy cold.
For a subconscious, this really was a dreary sort of world. He thought there'd be more women here, for a start. The kind of women his mother wouldn't approve of, but his little brother might. ...Since when did he start calling Max his "brother"? That was new. Maybe it was the island tricking his mind. Yeah, that's all it was. There was no way in hell he'd ever consider that little brat his family, nor his father. Snorting, he smacked his watery reflection, swearing for a second that he saw that man's smug face judging him for being stuck in the dead zone.
Well fuck him. What did he know? He'd spent the last few years ruining Trent's life, so why should he be the one who gets judged? The demons chattered excitedly over the outburst, giggling amongst themselves as the boy got to his feet.
"You guys can shut up too."
And with the hollow laughter coming to a stop, Trent began to walk away from the river. He needed to calm himself down a little.
His eyes held all of the guilt he'd received from his previous visit, knowing full well that he'd somehow lost his way on the path towards his goal. What was his goal, anyway? Something... dangerous, he expected. Something hard to accomplish. Whatever it was, he knew he needed help to reach it, but who was there to turn to out here? The demons wouldn't aid him in his endeavour, although he could probably guess why. Sighing, he dipped his hand into the waters below, splashing them around in the black until his hand felt icy cold.
For a subconscious, this really was a dreary sort of world. He thought there'd be more women here, for a start. The kind of women his mother wouldn't approve of, but his little brother might. ...Since when did he start calling Max his "brother"? That was new. Maybe it was the island tricking his mind. Yeah, that's all it was. There was no way in hell he'd ever consider that little brat his family, nor his father. Snorting, he smacked his watery reflection, swearing for a second that he saw that man's smug face judging him for being stuck in the dead zone.
Well fuck him. What did he know? He'd spent the last few years ruining Trent's life, so why should he be the one who gets judged? The demons chattered excitedly over the outburst, giggling amongst themselves as the boy got to his feet.
"You guys can shut up too."
And with the hollow laughter coming to a stop, Trent began to walk away from the river. He needed to calm himself down a little.
She heard movement from behind the sofa. Nothing TOO distinctive, but enough for Vera to tell that Rosa was shifting about somewhat. And then there was a pause... Not a particularly long pause, but long enough for Vera to briefly doubt that she'd made the right decision. After all, she'd left herself completely defenceless. If Rosa WAS playing, there wouldn't be much stopping her from wasting Vera on the spot right there and then...
But, thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case as Rosa finally revealed herself in all her glory. Not only that, but from the looks of things she was completely disarmed. No guns, no blunt object, nothing! Suddenly, her paranoia from earlier seemed very... Silly. No wonder she barely trusted me... Would YOU trust a nut who just broke into your house armed with a freaking TEC-9!
Seeing Rosa in the flesh reminded Vera about another thing she knew about the woman... Namely the fact that Vera happened to have what could be best described as a mixture of respect and envy of the Fiametta triplet. Rosa had the kind of exotic beauty most women could only dream about, what with her olive skin and almost perfectly shaped body. Vera herself knew from experience how hard it was keeping up a physique like that... It wasn't the kind of thing someone could pull off just by eating celery and going on a treadmill once a week. And for that reason, Vera just couldn't help but have a certain amount of respect the Italian girl...
That being said, she couldn't help but envy her all at the same time. Whilst Vera wasn't exactly the kind of woman who craved the spotlight, the fact that Rosa was so... Renown, bothered her somewhat. Vera personally considered herself to be amongst the more attractive students in Bayview (Moreso than Rosa herself, in her own opinion), so the fact that its girls like Rosa and Charlene who get all the gossip was SLIGHTLY annoying... Not that she wanted people going about making up rumours about her, but at least that would show people cared...
Still, this was all pointless anyway. They weren't in Bayview anymore. No, they we're in the middle of Survival of the Fittest. No time to dwell on silly jealousies...
Well, guess its finally time to talk one-on-one...
She took a step into the living room, opening her mouth to speak when suddenly...
"Hey... hey, is anybody in there?"
... Or, not. Fuck! Who the hell could it be?!?
The unknown voice from outside soon revealed themselves to be none other than Craig Hoyle. A guy Vera couldn't really care less about. From the sound of things, he was carrying a guy called Trent along with him. (Which one? Savage or Hunter?) Who, from the sound of things, was actually in pretty bad shape...
... This, was bad. Personally, Vera felt the situation was complicated enough as it was with her trying to earn Rosa's trust without adding the problem of an apparently unconscious boy into the mix. A boy Vera didn't particularly care about... Neither Savage or Hunter were people Vera liked, so why should she be forced to be responsible for his well being? She was having a hard enough time looking after herself, let alone some idiot who got himself knocked out!
Luckily, Rosa from the looks of things didn't want Craig or Trent around any more then she did. Which was understandable, given the situation. Still, Vera couldn't help but find herself in a jam... Should she answer Craig's question for her? Did Craig even know she was in here? SHOULD she reveal herself to him?
In the end, she decided to just keep her mouth shut for now. This was Rosa's decision, not hers. After all, it was Rosa's shelter to start with... The only reason she's here was because she'd broken in like some cat burglar, a decision she'd gradually grown to regret over time.
So she just stood there, her attention drifting between Rosa and the door continuously. All she could do now was sit still and pray that Craig would get the hint and go away... At least, thats what she hoped Rosa was going to say to him.
But, thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case as Rosa finally revealed herself in all her glory. Not only that, but from the looks of things she was completely disarmed. No guns, no blunt object, nothing! Suddenly, her paranoia from earlier seemed very... Silly. No wonder she barely trusted me... Would YOU trust a nut who just broke into your house armed with a freaking TEC-9!
Seeing Rosa in the flesh reminded Vera about another thing she knew about the woman... Namely the fact that Vera happened to have what could be best described as a mixture of respect and envy of the Fiametta triplet. Rosa had the kind of exotic beauty most women could only dream about, what with her olive skin and almost perfectly shaped body. Vera herself knew from experience how hard it was keeping up a physique like that... It wasn't the kind of thing someone could pull off just by eating celery and going on a treadmill once a week. And for that reason, Vera just couldn't help but have a certain amount of respect the Italian girl...
That being said, she couldn't help but envy her all at the same time. Whilst Vera wasn't exactly the kind of woman who craved the spotlight, the fact that Rosa was so... Renown, bothered her somewhat. Vera personally considered herself to be amongst the more attractive students in Bayview (Moreso than Rosa herself, in her own opinion), so the fact that its girls like Rosa and Charlene who get all the gossip was SLIGHTLY annoying... Not that she wanted people going about making up rumours about her, but at least that would show people cared...
Still, this was all pointless anyway. They weren't in Bayview anymore. No, they we're in the middle of Survival of the Fittest. No time to dwell on silly jealousies...
Well, guess its finally time to talk one-on-one...
She took a step into the living room, opening her mouth to speak when suddenly...
"Hey... hey, is anybody in there?"
... Or, not. Fuck! Who the hell could it be?!?
The unknown voice from outside soon revealed themselves to be none other than Craig Hoyle. A guy Vera couldn't really care less about. From the sound of things, he was carrying a guy called Trent along with him. (Which one? Savage or Hunter?) Who, from the sound of things, was actually in pretty bad shape...
... This, was bad. Personally, Vera felt the situation was complicated enough as it was with her trying to earn Rosa's trust without adding the problem of an apparently unconscious boy into the mix. A boy Vera didn't particularly care about... Neither Savage or Hunter were people Vera liked, so why should she be forced to be responsible for his well being? She was having a hard enough time looking after herself, let alone some idiot who got himself knocked out!
Luckily, Rosa from the looks of things didn't want Craig or Trent around any more then she did. Which was understandable, given the situation. Still, Vera couldn't help but find herself in a jam... Should she answer Craig's question for her? Did Craig even know she was in here? SHOULD she reveal herself to him?
In the end, she decided to just keep her mouth shut for now. This was Rosa's decision, not hers. After all, it was Rosa's shelter to start with... The only reason she's here was because she'd broken in like some cat burglar, a decision she'd gradually grown to regret over time.
So she just stood there, her attention drifting between Rosa and the door continuously. All she could do now was sit still and pray that Craig would get the hint and go away... At least, thats what she hoped Rosa was going to say to him.
((Jaquard "Jackie" Broughten continued from Random Spawns are a Bitch.))
She had been walking forever. Upon finally finding her way out of the swamp (holy shit, only falling one more time! What stellar luck!), the girl had stopped for a bit of a breather. Nearby leaves had done a decent job of letting her wipe the muck off of her exposed skin, and her old shoes had been discarded in favor of the marginally cleaner pair of sneakers that she had stolen from her attacker not a half an hour before. She relished the feeling of not having muck between her toes as she tossed her other sock behind her, wiggling them in the one-size-too-large gift from the heavens. And after that much needed brake, she was off again. A lengthly examination of her map finally told her that she had happened upon the southeastern corner of the swamp, and that a couple of options were open to her from here. She could either go east, through the logging road to the sawmill... She could go south and try to hide in the woods... Or she could go south east to the ranger station and take a shower.
Yeah, there was absolutely no contest. A quick zip of her bag yielded her with nothing but her hacksaw in her hand, and on a thought of traveling light, she jammed the handle of the awkward cutting tool into one of the tiny belt loops that her jeans offered. Not exactly easily accessible on a quick draw, but if she was in that situation, she was fucked anyways.
Keeping in the correct direction wasn't that difficult. There were two different sets of woods on either side of her once she had started going in the right direction, and as such she just had to keep walking, and keep the woods on either side of her. As creepy as the scene was, the light was still filtering through the canopy. Anyone who might have seen her on this trek would think she was paranoid beyond belief the way that her head kept jumping from left to right and back again; however this really was the case. Logic said that someone had scouted out this road and was waiting for people to pass by. However luckily for the girl, the trip itself was fairly uneventful.
Upon noting the small clearing open up in front of her, Jackie's expression turned to glee. The ranger station had to be right there, assuming she went the right way. However a building meant that people would be attracted to the site. And that means that her safety had to come first; the insatiable urge to shower coming last. The hacksaw was pried from her belt loop, and she resumed the low stance that she held while wallowing through the swamp. Although convinced that her smell would give her away at 100 paces, she continued. "Make yourself as small of a target as possible. Maybe they'll think there was a skunk that ran through. As stupid as that sounded, even just in her head, it was her best option for now.
And just then, her caution paid off. There was a girl hiding behind a few trees, peering out over what she assumed was the ranger station. A threat if she was detected, a target if she wasn't. Her eyes darted about the slightly wooded path she was on, and making sure that no branches were underfoot, she made the journey towards the girl, hacksaw in hand.
If all went well, Maria would have no idea what had hit her.
She had been walking forever. Upon finally finding her way out of the swamp (holy shit, only falling one more time! What stellar luck!), the girl had stopped for a bit of a breather. Nearby leaves had done a decent job of letting her wipe the muck off of her exposed skin, and her old shoes had been discarded in favor of the marginally cleaner pair of sneakers that she had stolen from her attacker not a half an hour before. She relished the feeling of not having muck between her toes as she tossed her other sock behind her, wiggling them in the one-size-too-large gift from the heavens. And after that much needed brake, she was off again. A lengthly examination of her map finally told her that she had happened upon the southeastern corner of the swamp, and that a couple of options were open to her from here. She could either go east, through the logging road to the sawmill... She could go south and try to hide in the woods... Or she could go south east to the ranger station and take a shower.
Yeah, there was absolutely no contest. A quick zip of her bag yielded her with nothing but her hacksaw in her hand, and on a thought of traveling light, she jammed the handle of the awkward cutting tool into one of the tiny belt loops that her jeans offered. Not exactly easily accessible on a quick draw, but if she was in that situation, she was fucked anyways.
Keeping in the correct direction wasn't that difficult. There were two different sets of woods on either side of her once she had started going in the right direction, and as such she just had to keep walking, and keep the woods on either side of her. As creepy as the scene was, the light was still filtering through the canopy. Anyone who might have seen her on this trek would think she was paranoid beyond belief the way that her head kept jumping from left to right and back again; however this really was the case. Logic said that someone had scouted out this road and was waiting for people to pass by. However luckily for the girl, the trip itself was fairly uneventful.
Upon noting the small clearing open up in front of her, Jackie's expression turned to glee. The ranger station had to be right there, assuming she went the right way. However a building meant that people would be attracted to the site. And that means that her safety had to come first; the insatiable urge to shower coming last. The hacksaw was pried from her belt loop, and she resumed the low stance that she held while wallowing through the swamp. Although convinced that her smell would give her away at 100 paces, she continued. "Make yourself as small of a target as possible. Maybe they'll think there was a skunk that ran through. As stupid as that sounded, even just in her head, it was her best option for now.
And just then, her caution paid off. There was a girl hiding behind a few trees, peering out over what she assumed was the ranger station. A threat if she was detected, a target if she wasn't. Her eyes darted about the slightly wooded path she was on, and making sure that no branches were underfoot, she made the journey towards the girl, hacksaw in hand.
If all went well, Maria would have no idea what had hit her.
-
Hollyquin*
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Something was going on. Some sort of Survival of the Fittest drama. Of the not-killing-people variety, which I'm pretty sure is my favorite kind of Survival of the Fittest drama. Maria heard something that must have been speech- the distance made it impossible for her to distinguish voices, let alone individual words, but it was clear to her that the boy, the conscious one, was trying to say something. Were there people inside the Ranger Station that he was talking to? Crud. I'm not gonna get to take my nap, am I? Ugh. Maybe I should just, like...take a nap in a tree or something. Yeah, that'd be fun. Maybe I should go try to find the boys, see if they're done freaking out about nothing. This whole standing-around-with-a-frickin'-postcard thing probably isn't good for my health.
She groaned. This, to put it elegantly, sucked pretty bad. After all, she was standing around, defenseless, thiiiiis close to a nice bed and maybe even a shower, scared out of her mind (as unlikely as she was to EVER admit that). The family's watching back home, probably all, like...criticizing my every moment. Or maybe they're upset. Or maybe they're not even watching! Heck if I'll ever know.
Iffy subject. Some logical part of her brain tried cautiously to talk her down- no, Maria, this is just gonna get you all depressed and emotional and all that and Lord knows you don't want to be crying on camera, that would be so many kinds of pathetic but the rest of her mind wasn't listening.
Maria didn't know where the nearest camera was, so she just spoke to the air.
"Hey, Leon. ...Too bad I didn't listen to you, eh? Hah..."
---
The night before the trip:
"Alright, I'm done packing. Night!"
Maria pulled her duffel bag over her shoulder, wincing at how heavy it was. There wasn't anything inside but clothes, toiletries and some snacks that she'd smuggled away- hidden from the eyes of her strict parents- but her upper body strength was essentially nonexistent. Her parents were already in bed, leaving her to say goodnight to the only family member still awake- her brother Leon, on break from college, who currently seemed to be really into some History Channel WWII special.
"Get some sleep, kid. Senior trip was pretty sweet. Mine was, anyway. Even though Lalo was there and being Lalo."
"Ouch. Too bad for him that you were there or maybe he would've enjoyed himself."
"Touche. Now get to bed." Her favorite brother grinned and turned away from the TV for the first time. "Wait, actually. Checklist time. I know you, you're terrible at remembering things. Got your clothes? Enough for three days?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not a total idiot."
"Toothbrush, toothpaste, all that fun stuff?"
"Uh-huh."
"Snacks?"
Maria blinked. "...What?"
"That's a yes." Leon smirked- Maria stuck her tongue out in response, finishing a very common exchange between the two. "What else...oh, yeah, Regala?"
Maria looked at him for a moment before responding.
"...No. I'm leaving her home."
Regala, as it were, was currently sitting in her preferred spot Maria's nightstand. Her clothing was formal and well-cared for, her hair was completely free of tangles and flawless in every way. She didn't seem like something one would take on a school trip, but Leon- and Maria- knew better. Regala and Maria went everywhere together. That was just how the world worked. Lalo in particular would make fun of her for that habit, but generally the Santiago siblings left it alone. It was just a fact- just the way Maria functioned.
The strange part was the question of how Regala came into Maria's life. She'd appeared one day, out of nowhere- sitting pretty on Maria's shelf with the rest of her dolls. And Maria had instantly fallen in love.
But now...
Leon moved rather quickly in emotions, from shock to confusion. "Wha...really? Why not? It's...it's not really my business, but...are you sure?"
"Yeah I'm sure." Maria stuck her tongue out at him again. In all honesty, the matter had been weighing heavily on her mind. But...She was 17 now. 17! And getting closer to 18 every day. She couldn't be carrying around a frickin' doll everywhere. That just wasn't how the world worked.
"...Whatever you think's best, kid."
"I'm not a kid!" For the third time, Maria stuck her tongue out at her brother, this time making her departure for real, dragging the duffel bag down the hallway to her room.
I'm not a kid.
---
Maria impatiently wiped something that felt suspiciously like the beginnings of a tear from her eye. No freaking out, Maria. Regala's not here. Leon's not here, either. Wish he was...he's strong enough for this. No, wait, if he was here he'd be dead too, so that wouldn't work. Oh, I could bring Lalo! I mean, I hate him anyway, and he's strong enough to- FOCUS, Maria!
She shook her head. This was going nowhere. The thirty seconds it took her to flashback had not been enough to bring any resolution to the Ranger Station situation. She wasn't going to get in, and standing here was kind of pointless. She sighed. Oh well. Guess I'll head back in the forest...try to find the Bodyguard Brigade maybe. Or at least a good tree I can take a nap in.
She turned around.
...
Maria froze.
Well, that was the normal reaction to a girl holding a hacksaw, right?
Maria didn't recognize this girl. She was very...normal looking and that somehow freaked her out more. The main issues right now were that a) this girl stood between her and the tree-bed she was planning on making, and b) holy crud she has a SAW. Instincts fought each other within her.
Run!
Scream!
Do SOMETHING, Maria!
She did something. It just wasn't either of those things.
"Er...h-hi."
Brilliant, Maria. You're incredible. You're gonna be fine now.
...
Oh God, I'm going to die.
She groaned. This, to put it elegantly, sucked pretty bad. After all, she was standing around, defenseless, thiiiiis close to a nice bed and maybe even a shower, scared out of her mind (as unlikely as she was to EVER admit that). The family's watching back home, probably all, like...criticizing my every moment. Or maybe they're upset. Or maybe they're not even watching! Heck if I'll ever know.
Iffy subject. Some logical part of her brain tried cautiously to talk her down- no, Maria, this is just gonna get you all depressed and emotional and all that and Lord knows you don't want to be crying on camera, that would be so many kinds of pathetic but the rest of her mind wasn't listening.
Maria didn't know where the nearest camera was, so she just spoke to the air.
"Hey, Leon. ...Too bad I didn't listen to you, eh? Hah..."
---
The night before the trip:
"Alright, I'm done packing. Night!"
Maria pulled her duffel bag over her shoulder, wincing at how heavy it was. There wasn't anything inside but clothes, toiletries and some snacks that she'd smuggled away- hidden from the eyes of her strict parents- but her upper body strength was essentially nonexistent. Her parents were already in bed, leaving her to say goodnight to the only family member still awake- her brother Leon, on break from college, who currently seemed to be really into some History Channel WWII special.
"Get some sleep, kid. Senior trip was pretty sweet. Mine was, anyway. Even though Lalo was there and being Lalo."
"Ouch. Too bad for him that you were there or maybe he would've enjoyed himself."
"Touche. Now get to bed." Her favorite brother grinned and turned away from the TV for the first time. "Wait, actually. Checklist time. I know you, you're terrible at remembering things. Got your clothes? Enough for three days?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not a total idiot."
"Toothbrush, toothpaste, all that fun stuff?"
"Uh-huh."
"Snacks?"
Maria blinked. "...What?"
"That's a yes." Leon smirked- Maria stuck her tongue out in response, finishing a very common exchange between the two. "What else...oh, yeah, Regala?"
Maria looked at him for a moment before responding.
"...No. I'm leaving her home."
Regala, as it were, was currently sitting in her preferred spot Maria's nightstand. Her clothing was formal and well-cared for, her hair was completely free of tangles and flawless in every way. She didn't seem like something one would take on a school trip, but Leon- and Maria- knew better. Regala and Maria went everywhere together. That was just how the world worked. Lalo in particular would make fun of her for that habit, but generally the Santiago siblings left it alone. It was just a fact- just the way Maria functioned.
The strange part was the question of how Regala came into Maria's life. She'd appeared one day, out of nowhere- sitting pretty on Maria's shelf with the rest of her dolls. And Maria had instantly fallen in love.
But now...
Leon moved rather quickly in emotions, from shock to confusion. "Wha...really? Why not? It's...it's not really my business, but...are you sure?"
"Yeah I'm sure." Maria stuck her tongue out at him again. In all honesty, the matter had been weighing heavily on her mind. But...She was 17 now. 17! And getting closer to 18 every day. She couldn't be carrying around a frickin' doll everywhere. That just wasn't how the world worked.
"...Whatever you think's best, kid."
"I'm not a kid!" For the third time, Maria stuck her tongue out at her brother, this time making her departure for real, dragging the duffel bag down the hallway to her room.
I'm not a kid.
---
Maria impatiently wiped something that felt suspiciously like the beginnings of a tear from her eye. No freaking out, Maria. Regala's not here. Leon's not here, either. Wish he was...he's strong enough for this. No, wait, if he was here he'd be dead too, so that wouldn't work. Oh, I could bring Lalo! I mean, I hate him anyway, and he's strong enough to- FOCUS, Maria!
She shook her head. This was going nowhere. The thirty seconds it took her to flashback had not been enough to bring any resolution to the Ranger Station situation. She wasn't going to get in, and standing here was kind of pointless. She sighed. Oh well. Guess I'll head back in the forest...try to find the Bodyguard Brigade maybe. Or at least a good tree I can take a nap in.
She turned around.
...
Maria froze.
Well, that was the normal reaction to a girl holding a hacksaw, right?
Maria didn't recognize this girl. She was very...normal looking and that somehow freaked her out more. The main issues right now were that a) this girl stood between her and the tree-bed she was planning on making, and b) holy crud she has a SAW. Instincts fought each other within her.
Run!
Scream!
Do SOMETHING, Maria!
She did something. It just wasn't either of those things.
"Er...h-hi."
Brilliant, Maria. You're incredible. You're gonna be fine now.
...
Oh God, I'm going to die.
Suddenly, without any real warning, Jackie's target spun around and looked directly at her. There was a momentary pause as the attacker and victim both found themselves stunned. Fear obviously racked the victim's body as noted by the shaking and her wide eyes, her stammering, her posture (even kneeling down, that much was visible). However, the sight of this girl in front of her brought up something in Jackie that she hadn't felt in years herself. Hesitation towards something that she had convinced herself was the proper course of action.
"Er...h-hi."
As much as she knew that looking into this girl's fearful eyes would make what she had (apparently improperly) resolved herself to do, she couldn't help herself. The face was so familiar. Did they have a class together freshman year? Or was this girl just another face in the crowd?
That didn't matter. It couldn't matter.
Don't talk to her. Just do it.
She raised her saw high above her head.
Just do it!
Her eyes clenched shut as her knuckles began to whiten with the hurculean grip that she placed on the handle of the weapon.
DO IT!
The saw swung down hard. Every ounce of weight in the soon to be murderer's body rushing down, the rust speckled blade of her assigned hacksaw whistling as it sliced the air directly above Maria's shoulder and neck. Everything began to flash white in her mind as if God himself were intervening.
---
And just like that, suddenly everything was white. The forest floor, the trees, and even the girl that she was attacking were all gone. There was nothing but coldness. Emptiness. Everything about her was in suspended motion. Her clothes were held in place, the ripples and distortions from the rushing air all around her suspended in time. The hacksaw was held just a hair above where Maria's head should be, and no matter how hard she tugged, she could not dislodge it from the invisible force holding it where it sat. In fact, she couldn't move a muscle. It was as if some higher power held her in her place.
"STAND."
The voice was forceful and stern, rather than angry. The voice was feminine, and the sounds of age dotted the frequency. Suddenly her body relaxed, however as she stood from her location, the saw that she stared at so intently almost seemed to become intangible, her hand more fazing through the stalwart object rather than letting it go. In fact, everything that marked her position did the same. From the long sleeved shirt that she had chosen that morning to the backpack slung on her back, everything material that once held her down now just freed her to stand. And as her clothes fell from her body, standing in their positions as if a statue, shaped by the wind itself, her hands slid to her legs. Not to cover her form, but to hide the scars that she went to such great lengths to hide every single day.
"Do you realize what you have just done?"
A soft mist seemed to wrap around the girl's form, hiding her from even herself.
"I've just done what I must to survive. Who are you? And where are you? Where am I?"
"Hah. All typical questions. You remind me of myself when I was young..."
And just then, a strong wind blew past the confused girl. The mist before her eyes cleared, revealing a woman who resembled the reflection that she saw each morning. Acne scars dotted the older woman's face, and the hair; once a deep brown now hung in various shades of gray. The test of time had obviously not fared this woman well.
"I shall not listen to pitiful arguments from my younger self. So listen."
As if commanded by the divine, her mouth found itself unable to open, her vocal cords unable to process breath.
"Do you not see the cage that stares you in the face every morning of every day? The part of yourself that you repress?"
As if on cue, the mists between the two parted. A small metallic cage, made on all six sides of iron bars typical of a prison cell, hovered about a foot off the ground. Inside was a small child. Appearing to be about four years old, her brown curls and soft freckles made the teenager's eyes go wide.
"Do you remember the last time that you felt love? Sadness? Fear? Any emotion but manufactured happiness and hatred?" The woman's hand indicated to the girl, panting and whimpering softly, a tiny arm dangling from the cage. "You were five. When you repressed your ability to love, to care, to feel. And that part of you has been slowly dying ever since."
The mists of the room themselves seemed to take the form of a droplet of water, surrounding the cage, the entire room turning a tinge of blue. Jackie's expression began to soften as she fell to her knees, unable to pull her eyes from the girl slowly dying in front of her.
"Your greatest mistake was caused because of this. And it was only a matter of time. The life of another had to be given so that you could understand... And this is the price you will pay. The burden that will hold on your shoulders for the rest of your days."
The cage shattered, however the clattering of metal to the floor never came. Instead the pieces fell beyond the surface that Jackie was held by. Down, deeper through the vast abyss until nothing could be seen anymore. The panting, dying girl began to float closer and closer. Jackie's eyes began to water as she put one hand forward, to gently touch the forehead of the true victim here. And as digit made contact with flesh, the entire room slowly began to fade. First the apparition of the future, then the mists and the world itself. Finally the girl herself faded as eyes closed. And without realizing what had happened, her eyes re-opened, her body back in the position it originally lay, the hacksaw gripped firmly in her hands. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the real world slowly began to fade back into focus.
---
The human mind is a wondrous thing. While Jackie's mental breakdown felt as if it were to be counted in minutes, to anyone else watching, Jackie just began to cry while swinging the axe. The mental processes that govern thought had sped themselves up to a speed comparable to that found in REM sleep, just long enough for the girl to have an epiphany in naught but microseconds.
And as time began to return, as reality came back into focus, Jackie was able to force a single thought before the rusted blade, the harbinger of death made it's one and only contact with Maria's jugular.
Oh shit... No... No, What have I done?
"Er...h-hi."
As much as she knew that looking into this girl's fearful eyes would make what she had (apparently improperly) resolved herself to do, she couldn't help herself. The face was so familiar. Did they have a class together freshman year? Or was this girl just another face in the crowd?
That didn't matter. It couldn't matter.
Don't talk to her. Just do it.
She raised her saw high above her head.
Just do it!
Her eyes clenched shut as her knuckles began to whiten with the hurculean grip that she placed on the handle of the weapon.
DO IT!
The saw swung down hard. Every ounce of weight in the soon to be murderer's body rushing down, the rust speckled blade of her assigned hacksaw whistling as it sliced the air directly above Maria's shoulder and neck. Everything began to flash white in her mind as if God himself were intervening.
---
And just like that, suddenly everything was white. The forest floor, the trees, and even the girl that she was attacking were all gone. There was nothing but coldness. Emptiness. Everything about her was in suspended motion. Her clothes were held in place, the ripples and distortions from the rushing air all around her suspended in time. The hacksaw was held just a hair above where Maria's head should be, and no matter how hard she tugged, she could not dislodge it from the invisible force holding it where it sat. In fact, she couldn't move a muscle. It was as if some higher power held her in her place.
"STAND."
The voice was forceful and stern, rather than angry. The voice was feminine, and the sounds of age dotted the frequency. Suddenly her body relaxed, however as she stood from her location, the saw that she stared at so intently almost seemed to become intangible, her hand more fazing through the stalwart object rather than letting it go. In fact, everything that marked her position did the same. From the long sleeved shirt that she had chosen that morning to the backpack slung on her back, everything material that once held her down now just freed her to stand. And as her clothes fell from her body, standing in their positions as if a statue, shaped by the wind itself, her hands slid to her legs. Not to cover her form, but to hide the scars that she went to such great lengths to hide every single day.
"Do you realize what you have just done?"
A soft mist seemed to wrap around the girl's form, hiding her from even herself.
"I've just done what I must to survive. Who are you? And where are you? Where am I?"
"Hah. All typical questions. You remind me of myself when I was young..."
And just then, a strong wind blew past the confused girl. The mist before her eyes cleared, revealing a woman who resembled the reflection that she saw each morning. Acne scars dotted the older woman's face, and the hair; once a deep brown now hung in various shades of gray. The test of time had obviously not fared this woman well.
"I shall not listen to pitiful arguments from my younger self. So listen."
As if commanded by the divine, her mouth found itself unable to open, her vocal cords unable to process breath.
"Do you not see the cage that stares you in the face every morning of every day? The part of yourself that you repress?"
As if on cue, the mists between the two parted. A small metallic cage, made on all six sides of iron bars typical of a prison cell, hovered about a foot off the ground. Inside was a small child. Appearing to be about four years old, her brown curls and soft freckles made the teenager's eyes go wide.
"Do you remember the last time that you felt love? Sadness? Fear? Any emotion but manufactured happiness and hatred?" The woman's hand indicated to the girl, panting and whimpering softly, a tiny arm dangling from the cage. "You were five. When you repressed your ability to love, to care, to feel. And that part of you has been slowly dying ever since."
The mists of the room themselves seemed to take the form of a droplet of water, surrounding the cage, the entire room turning a tinge of blue. Jackie's expression began to soften as she fell to her knees, unable to pull her eyes from the girl slowly dying in front of her.
"Your greatest mistake was caused because of this. And it was only a matter of time. The life of another had to be given so that you could understand... And this is the price you will pay. The burden that will hold on your shoulders for the rest of your days."
The cage shattered, however the clattering of metal to the floor never came. Instead the pieces fell beyond the surface that Jackie was held by. Down, deeper through the vast abyss until nothing could be seen anymore. The panting, dying girl began to float closer and closer. Jackie's eyes began to water as she put one hand forward, to gently touch the forehead of the true victim here. And as digit made contact with flesh, the entire room slowly began to fade. First the apparition of the future, then the mists and the world itself. Finally the girl herself faded as eyes closed. And without realizing what had happened, her eyes re-opened, her body back in the position it originally lay, the hacksaw gripped firmly in her hands. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the real world slowly began to fade back into focus.
---
The human mind is a wondrous thing. While Jackie's mental breakdown felt as if it were to be counted in minutes, to anyone else watching, Jackie just began to cry while swinging the axe. The mental processes that govern thought had sped themselves up to a speed comparable to that found in REM sleep, just long enough for the girl to have an epiphany in naught but microseconds.
And as time began to return, as reality came back into focus, Jackie was able to force a single thought before the rusted blade, the harbinger of death made it's one and only contact with Maria's jugular.
Oh shit... No... No, What have I done?
-
Hollyquin*
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Sometimes a moment can last forever without taking any time at all.
Maria did not move. She didn't blink. The other girl- the one whose face she did not quite recognize, the one who was holding a real weapon, the one who currently held Maria's life in her hands- had not yet moved. She hadn't yet responded. Maybe...maybe I can still get out of this! Maybe she's thinking about it! Yeah, Maria, that whole talking thing might have worked out for you. I mean...maybe she knows who I am! Like...everyone should, I am me after all, and there's no good reason for her to kill me, anyway, right? Yeah, no reason at all, maybe we can talk, maybe we can be allies or whatever, maybe she can help me find the boys...then there'd be, like, six of us! We'd be unstoppable...maybe...
Her mind rushed a mile a minute, yet all was perfectly silent but the rustling leaves in the trees.
All was still.
All was-
Her mind hardly had time to process the movement of the other girl's arms-
The beginnings of movement towards her-
The glint in her eye-
Oh...oh God-
Maria knew. She knew. Her body just refused to react to it. Her legs seemed incapable of movement, her feet glued tight to the ground below her- somehow she took comfort in that, that ground, supporting her as it was. Her vocal cords seemed to have shut themselves down- that seemed like a blessing too. She didn't want anyone to hear her scream. It would have been...pathetic. She didn't want anyone hearing her like that.
Mostly, she didn't want Leon to have to see that.
She had no defense. Her 'weapon', a Survival of the Fittest commemorative postcard, lay useless in her backpack. Her makeshift weapon- her flashlight- was likewise not on hand. Her fists were laughably useless- Maria had no upper body strength whatsoever. Besides, her arms lay useless at her sides, as paralyzed as the rest of her. She did not move.
Not one inch.
This was, it seemed, her time.
Maria was not a fighter. Her mind's means of defense were not to fight back, or run away. Instead she closed her eyes and retreated elsewhere, stretching that moment into a motionless eternity.
That last moment would be forever.
---
In that mind, in that moment-
Colors-
Sounds-
Emotions-
It was a whirlwind, an infinite whirlwind which she found herself inside, in which little made sense, little conceded to take a shape or recognizable form.
Maria had braced herself within that whirlwind. She was ready. She was- dare she think it?- willing. This was it.
This was it.
Part of the whirlwind coalesced. Those colors, those sounds were beginning to take a form, a shape that she knew all too well, a shape that she didn't know if she wanted to see. She couldn't see him, now. She couldn't do this. Didn't she want to say goodbye?
Wasn't that what she wanted to do? Wasn't this who she'd wanted to see?
Not now- not like this, she couldn't-
"Maria."
His voice was stronger than it had ever been.
It was not an image of the boy as he was in life- it was the picture a little girl held, would always hold, of her big brother.
"I brought you something, Maria. Don't be scared, okay? I'm here."
In reality, Maria's eyes remained closed, but within this infinite moment her eyes opened as she laid her eyes one last time upon the face of her beloved Leon.
And in his arms, Regala.
She reached forward and took her doll, stroking its long hair. It was a comforting feeling. She hugged it towards her and noticed its hat was wet. Then she realized that was because she was crying.
She looked at Leon, and realized he was crying too.
"Are you ready, Maria?"
"No," she answered automatically. He laughed a laugh that didn't reach his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then it was the pain in his voice that scared her the most. "I can't protect you forever."
And then, pain.
---
Pain. Maria felt it before she saw the spray of blood, before she'd even opened her eyes and saw the girl directly before her, before she was ready to take it all in. She felt it screaming on the side of her neck, stealing the breath from her, her own heart pumping her blood out of her in a steady spray, her every nerve screaming at her to do something-
Yet she was still paralyzed.
I'm going to die. I'm really going to die. I'm dying. I...
Something that remained of her ego came back to reassure her.
Everyone's gonna be so upset. Me! Maria Santiago, dead! How can anyone go on without me? Shame everyone loves me so much...right...?
She shook that away. The brink of death was no time to recover from a lifelong delusion.
She noticed the ground slipping away from her feet. This bothered her- so many seconds, hours, years ago that solid ground had been her greatest comfort, and now it was betraying her. Her feet were moving, too. This was strange. So many years ago those feet were glued to the ground. Why were they moving now?
After the whirlwind ended, Maria's thoughts dripped slow as molasses, as the world around her slowed down to match her speed.
A span of time, a fraction of a second in reality, yet another infinity in Maria's mind, passed as her legs gave out underneath her, and her head hit the ground.
Something cracked. Maria didn't notice.
---
"This can't be happening."
Leon Santiago's head was in his hands as he stared at his television. He was alone. His family had gone off to work, to school, to those places where people tended to go. They knew where Maria was, and they knew, they said, nothing can be done. There was nothing to do but wait, watch, listen, hope, pray. That most of all. Pray. He had prayed long and hard, more than he had ever prayed in his life, all for her. All for his little sister- all for the defenseless little girl that he'd sent on her way those days ago. Sent away with nothing more than a "good night" and a- he winced at the memory- a "whatever you think is best".
His Maria was gone. Forever. He knew that the moment his mother got that call, the congratulations, your daughter is on Survival of the Fittest! call. Maria wasn't strong, she wasn't all that smart, and she was all alone. She didn't have her friends, she didn't have her family- she didn't even have her best friend. Her favorite doll, her Regala.
Leon cursed himself over and over for letting her leave without it. But it wasn't like he could have known.
Right?
...Right?
He tore at his hair with his hands. Why isn't anyone doing anything?! Why? Why is this allowed to happen? Kids are dying, and they're just...nothing...
There's nothing I can do...
"Goddammit...GODAMMIT!"
Leon turned from the screen, tears streaming from his eyes freely now. He couldn't watch this.
He was powerless. Helpless. Pathetic. Weak.
He let the tears fall.
---
Maria spent those last minutes listening. Not to the sound of the rustling leaves, or to the sound of her own lifeblood escaping her, or to the sound of her last, gasping breaths. She listened to her own song, whispering quietly in her head. Her favorite song.
The melody echoed quietly in the recesses of her mind, as it seemed to empty itself, slowly but surely...
I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?...
She was done. Finished. She had become incredibly aware of her own beating heart, aware that the beats seemed to be slowing, that she was weakening, that there wasn't much left for her to suffer through. That the pain was fading, that everything was fading, her vision, her sight...
I never really thought about dying much before this...Mommy and Daddy said I'd go to heaven if I was good...have I been good?
She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah...
I don't know...what have I done wrong? A lot, I guess...I used to get in trouble a lot, but the nuns never said I was going to hell...they said that to some of the other kids. Does that mean I've been doing good enough? Does that mean there's something good waiting for me after this?
Blood dripped, slowly. Red, so much red. Her eyes were still open, somehow, She tried to focus on the empty sky.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch- love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah...
I...don't think I've done anything that wrong...
Her thoughts were dripping again, moving slowly, as they reached their conclusion.
I...didn't kill anybody...thou shalt not kill...I didn't...I was good...didn't hurt nobody...
I...I'm not a sinner....I'm...I'm good...
"So...I guess...I'm going to heaven after all..."
The words escaped her lips in a whisper. She smiled the tiniest of smiles.
Hallelujah...
...Hallelujah...
Leon turned his head back to the screen, shocked. To hear his sister's voice one more time...that was a gift. And the words she said...
"Maria...of c-course...of course..."
He smiled a tiny smile. She was...so brave.
Almost...
Maria listened to her heartbeats. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Each sound was precious, and fleeting.
And remember when I moved in you...
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
The holy dove was moving too...
Ba-dum.
Ba-dum.
She inhaled.
And every breath we drew...
She exhaled, and there was nothing left but darkness.
And then...
Light.
...was Hallelujah.
RANK 257TH [MARIA SANTIAGO] - DEAD
Maria did not move. She didn't blink. The other girl- the one whose face she did not quite recognize, the one who was holding a real weapon, the one who currently held Maria's life in her hands- had not yet moved. She hadn't yet responded. Maybe...maybe I can still get out of this! Maybe she's thinking about it! Yeah, Maria, that whole talking thing might have worked out for you. I mean...maybe she knows who I am! Like...everyone should, I am me after all, and there's no good reason for her to kill me, anyway, right? Yeah, no reason at all, maybe we can talk, maybe we can be allies or whatever, maybe she can help me find the boys...then there'd be, like, six of us! We'd be unstoppable...maybe...
Her mind rushed a mile a minute, yet all was perfectly silent but the rustling leaves in the trees.
All was still.
All was-
Her mind hardly had time to process the movement of the other girl's arms-
The beginnings of movement towards her-
The glint in her eye-
Oh...oh God-
Maria knew. She knew. Her body just refused to react to it. Her legs seemed incapable of movement, her feet glued tight to the ground below her- somehow she took comfort in that, that ground, supporting her as it was. Her vocal cords seemed to have shut themselves down- that seemed like a blessing too. She didn't want anyone to hear her scream. It would have been...pathetic. She didn't want anyone hearing her like that.
Mostly, she didn't want Leon to have to see that.
She had no defense. Her 'weapon', a Survival of the Fittest commemorative postcard, lay useless in her backpack. Her makeshift weapon- her flashlight- was likewise not on hand. Her fists were laughably useless- Maria had no upper body strength whatsoever. Besides, her arms lay useless at her sides, as paralyzed as the rest of her. She did not move.
Not one inch.
This was, it seemed, her time.
Maria was not a fighter. Her mind's means of defense were not to fight back, or run away. Instead she closed her eyes and retreated elsewhere, stretching that moment into a motionless eternity.
That last moment would be forever.
---
In that mind, in that moment-
Colors-
Sounds-
Emotions-
It was a whirlwind, an infinite whirlwind which she found herself inside, in which little made sense, little conceded to take a shape or recognizable form.
Maria had braced herself within that whirlwind. She was ready. She was- dare she think it?- willing. This was it.
This was it.
Part of the whirlwind coalesced. Those colors, those sounds were beginning to take a form, a shape that she knew all too well, a shape that she didn't know if she wanted to see. She couldn't see him, now. She couldn't do this. Didn't she want to say goodbye?
Wasn't that what she wanted to do? Wasn't this who she'd wanted to see?
Not now- not like this, she couldn't-
"Maria."
His voice was stronger than it had ever been.
It was not an image of the boy as he was in life- it was the picture a little girl held, would always hold, of her big brother.
"I brought you something, Maria. Don't be scared, okay? I'm here."
In reality, Maria's eyes remained closed, but within this infinite moment her eyes opened as she laid her eyes one last time upon the face of her beloved Leon.
And in his arms, Regala.
She reached forward and took her doll, stroking its long hair. It was a comforting feeling. She hugged it towards her and noticed its hat was wet. Then she realized that was because she was crying.
She looked at Leon, and realized he was crying too.
"Are you ready, Maria?"
"No," she answered automatically. He laughed a laugh that didn't reach his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then it was the pain in his voice that scared her the most. "I can't protect you forever."
And then, pain.
---
Pain. Maria felt it before she saw the spray of blood, before she'd even opened her eyes and saw the girl directly before her, before she was ready to take it all in. She felt it screaming on the side of her neck, stealing the breath from her, her own heart pumping her blood out of her in a steady spray, her every nerve screaming at her to do something-
Yet she was still paralyzed.
I'm going to die. I'm really going to die. I'm dying. I...
Something that remained of her ego came back to reassure her.
Everyone's gonna be so upset. Me! Maria Santiago, dead! How can anyone go on without me? Shame everyone loves me so much...right...?
She shook that away. The brink of death was no time to recover from a lifelong delusion.
She noticed the ground slipping away from her feet. This bothered her- so many seconds, hours, years ago that solid ground had been her greatest comfort, and now it was betraying her. Her feet were moving, too. This was strange. So many years ago those feet were glued to the ground. Why were they moving now?
After the whirlwind ended, Maria's thoughts dripped slow as molasses, as the world around her slowed down to match her speed.
A span of time, a fraction of a second in reality, yet another infinity in Maria's mind, passed as her legs gave out underneath her, and her head hit the ground.
Something cracked. Maria didn't notice.
---
"This can't be happening."
Leon Santiago's head was in his hands as he stared at his television. He was alone. His family had gone off to work, to school, to those places where people tended to go. They knew where Maria was, and they knew, they said, nothing can be done. There was nothing to do but wait, watch, listen, hope, pray. That most of all. Pray. He had prayed long and hard, more than he had ever prayed in his life, all for her. All for his little sister- all for the defenseless little girl that he'd sent on her way those days ago. Sent away with nothing more than a "good night" and a- he winced at the memory- a "whatever you think is best".
His Maria was gone. Forever. He knew that the moment his mother got that call, the congratulations, your daughter is on Survival of the Fittest! call. Maria wasn't strong, she wasn't all that smart, and she was all alone. She didn't have her friends, she didn't have her family- she didn't even have her best friend. Her favorite doll, her Regala.
Leon cursed himself over and over for letting her leave without it. But it wasn't like he could have known.
Right?
...Right?
He tore at his hair with his hands. Why isn't anyone doing anything?! Why? Why is this allowed to happen? Kids are dying, and they're just...nothing...
There's nothing I can do...
"Goddammit...GODAMMIT!"
Leon turned from the screen, tears streaming from his eyes freely now. He couldn't watch this.
He was powerless. Helpless. Pathetic. Weak.
He let the tears fall.
---
Maria spent those last minutes listening. Not to the sound of the rustling leaves, or to the sound of her own lifeblood escaping her, or to the sound of her last, gasping breaths. She listened to her own song, whispering quietly in her head. Her favorite song.
The melody echoed quietly in the recesses of her mind, as it seemed to empty itself, slowly but surely...
I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?...
She was done. Finished. She had become incredibly aware of her own beating heart, aware that the beats seemed to be slowing, that she was weakening, that there wasn't much left for her to suffer through. That the pain was fading, that everything was fading, her vision, her sight...
I never really thought about dying much before this...Mommy and Daddy said I'd go to heaven if I was good...have I been good?
She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah...
I don't know...what have I done wrong? A lot, I guess...I used to get in trouble a lot, but the nuns never said I was going to hell...they said that to some of the other kids. Does that mean I've been doing good enough? Does that mean there's something good waiting for me after this?
Blood dripped, slowly. Red, so much red. Her eyes were still open, somehow, She tried to focus on the empty sky.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch- love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah...
I...don't think I've done anything that wrong...
Her thoughts were dripping again, moving slowly, as they reached their conclusion.
I...didn't kill anybody...thou shalt not kill...I didn't...I was good...didn't hurt nobody...
I...I'm not a sinner....I'm...I'm good...
"So...I guess...I'm going to heaven after all..."
The words escaped her lips in a whisper. She smiled the tiniest of smiles.
Hallelujah...
...Hallelujah...
Leon turned his head back to the screen, shocked. To hear his sister's voice one more time...that was a gift. And the words she said...
"Maria...of c-course...of course..."
He smiled a tiny smile. She was...so brave.
Almost...
Maria listened to her heartbeats. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Each sound was precious, and fleeting.
And remember when I moved in you...
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
The holy dove was moving too...
Ba-dum.
Ba-dum.
She inhaled.
And every breath we drew...
She exhaled, and there was nothing left but darkness.
And then...
Light.
...was Hallelujah.
RANK 257TH [MARIA SANTIAGO] - DEAD
"..."
Craig was wheedling, and Rosa didn't know what to make of it. She wanted - she wanted badly to just be cold and tell him to fuck off with whichever Trent he had with him (Savage and Hunter... nice pair of names to go with an ass and an ex-con). But... his whining struck a chord, somewhere. It spoke to her, in some small way, it resonated with rejections and spurned attempts at rejection...
...This place is gonna get way too fucking crowded.
Rosa walked over to Vera's gun and scooped it up, looking at the other girl and mouthing 'one minute'. It would probably be a better idea for the person with, you know, the ammunition to be the one with the gun, but as it happened Rosa still didn't trust Vera and wasn't about to let her have free reign on protecting her.
The weapon was surprisingly heavy, but after readjusting, Rosa held it comfortably enough, albeit with distaste. Even unloaded, carrying the gun made her uneasy. Still, if it meant warding off aggression from Craig... Nobody that hung around with JJ Sturn that much could be a hundred percent nice guy. Hell, how the relationship between her and the captain of the football team had ended was common knowledge. She'd sported that cut near her left eye for weeks, and a black eye accompanied it most of the way.
In spite of that little note he'd hit with her... Rosa wasn't trusting Craig either.
"Craig... don't even fucking try to screw me around, alright?" Rosa went to the door, gritted her teeth, then grabbed the armchair and hauled it back from the entrance a little, enough that the guy outside would be able to push it back the rest of the distance without it wedging against the wall.
"If you push hard enough, you'll be able to get in," Craig was a big guy, he could handle the strain.
Notice me yet? ...I wonder where Ily and Frankie are.
Craig was wheedling, and Rosa didn't know what to make of it. She wanted - she wanted badly to just be cold and tell him to fuck off with whichever Trent he had with him (Savage and Hunter... nice pair of names to go with an ass and an ex-con). But... his whining struck a chord, somewhere. It spoke to her, in some small way, it resonated with rejections and spurned attempts at rejection...
...This place is gonna get way too fucking crowded.
Rosa walked over to Vera's gun and scooped it up, looking at the other girl and mouthing 'one minute'. It would probably be a better idea for the person with, you know, the ammunition to be the one with the gun, but as it happened Rosa still didn't trust Vera and wasn't about to let her have free reign on protecting her.
The weapon was surprisingly heavy, but after readjusting, Rosa held it comfortably enough, albeit with distaste. Even unloaded, carrying the gun made her uneasy. Still, if it meant warding off aggression from Craig... Nobody that hung around with JJ Sturn that much could be a hundred percent nice guy. Hell, how the relationship between her and the captain of the football team had ended was common knowledge. She'd sported that cut near her left eye for weeks, and a black eye accompanied it most of the way.
In spite of that little note he'd hit with her... Rosa wasn't trusting Craig either.
"Craig... don't even fucking try to screw me around, alright?" Rosa went to the door, gritted her teeth, then grabbed the armchair and hauled it back from the entrance a little, enough that the guy outside would be able to push it back the rest of the distance without it wedging against the wall.
"If you push hard enough, you'll be able to get in," Craig was a big guy, he could handle the strain.
Notice me yet? ...I wonder where Ily and Frankie are.
-
MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 2256
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
For a while, Craig's heart was being crushed by the weight of his anxiety. He was sure that Rosa wasn't going to let her in. As safe as it was to expect, everybody was too afraid, hiding from everybody else and making sure that they survived. That was fine... it meant nobody would die, and nobody dying would be a very good thing. Still, Craig was out there in front of this building, the whole world standing at his back while he made himself a helpless target by holding Trent. It wouldn't be too hard for somebody to stab him in the back, maybe shoot him... and maybe Rosa thought that he'd do the same thing. It really was understandable, seeing as he was huge, but why couldn't anybody see past that?
So, it was with a great deal of released pressure, that Craig heard Rosa shifting around and then telling him that he could enter, but... she still sounded angry. She sounded threatening, dangerous even! Craig trembled a little; he trembled partially from the weight of the boy he still held in his arms, and from the tone in Rosa's voice that told him just how much she could hurt him. He didn't question that fact with the notion that he was far bigger; she could probably still hurt him solely through his hesitation to fight back. Girls could be very, very scary in that regard.
Craig nudged at the door a bit with his head, but that didn't do much to open it... obviously. He hoisted up on Trent, trying to keep the boy's slipping form in an easier-to-carry position while he used one hand to fumble for the doorknob, and pushed with his hand, but it was still stuck a little. Craig released the knob and slowly turned his shoulder (the one that didn't have the pack hanging from it) towards the door, wondering if he really could summon just a teeny, tiny bit of the Juggernaut's power of Cyttorak just to get this goddamned door open.
With a heave and a large step, the boy's shoulder took the impact of him crashing against the door, and shoved it open. It didn't open extremely far, but it was enough for Craig to sort of squash his way through sideways, then turn halfway through so he could pull Trent in. "Thank you... th-thank you!" He stammered without even looking at whoever else may have been in the cabin until he had Trent set safely on his back on the floor, and the door shut. He then turned around, and saw Rosa. Rosa had a gun in her hands.
"Oh man, don't shoot!" He raised his arms up high above his head, trembling.
So, it was with a great deal of released pressure, that Craig heard Rosa shifting around and then telling him that he could enter, but... she still sounded angry. She sounded threatening, dangerous even! Craig trembled a little; he trembled partially from the weight of the boy he still held in his arms, and from the tone in Rosa's voice that told him just how much she could hurt him. He didn't question that fact with the notion that he was far bigger; she could probably still hurt him solely through his hesitation to fight back. Girls could be very, very scary in that regard.
Craig nudged at the door a bit with his head, but that didn't do much to open it... obviously. He hoisted up on Trent, trying to keep the boy's slipping form in an easier-to-carry position while he used one hand to fumble for the doorknob, and pushed with his hand, but it was still stuck a little. Craig released the knob and slowly turned his shoulder (the one that didn't have the pack hanging from it) towards the door, wondering if he really could summon just a teeny, tiny bit of the Juggernaut's power of Cyttorak just to get this goddamned door open.
With a heave and a large step, the boy's shoulder took the impact of him crashing against the door, and shoved it open. It didn't open extremely far, but it was enough for Craig to sort of squash his way through sideways, then turn halfway through so he could pull Trent in. "Thank you... th-thank you!" He stammered without even looking at whoever else may have been in the cabin until he had Trent set safely on his back on the floor, and the door shut. He then turned around, and saw Rosa. Rosa had a gun in her hands.
"Oh man, don't shoot!" He raised his arms up high above his head, trembling.
V8 Characters:
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
Hades Thompson: Scary on the outside, dying on the inside
Ruth Flanagan: Never talk to me or my brother or my brother or my brother or my brother ever again
Vladimir Tepes: Not a vampire, so invite him in
-
ET.Requiem*
- Posts: 73
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 4:14 am
((Kevin Harding continued from Regrets))
Again? God, this day was hell on him. In the span of a few hours, Kevin had narrowly escaped from an explosion, ran through the woods, and witnessed a murder. Now he was crouching in the bushes, watching... what's-his-name bash down a cabin door with his shoulder. He would've assumed that the people inside would have been in a world of trouble once that mountain of flesh got inside.
But that sound that preceded the door's demise chilled him to the bone. It was a muffled bang, like a firecracker in a trunk. Was it a gun? He didn't know. He didn't see a flash. But if it was.... he had a chance.
It was so stupidly dangerous that he couldn't believe that he risking his life for this. But he was going to end up on the business end of a firearm anyways. Knowing what he was getting into and potentially having a way to defend himself properly was too much to resist.
He took a deep breath, pulled the shovel out, and started crawling towards the cabin from the side. His plan was simple and damn near suicidal. In fact, he was somewhat sure that it wouldn't work at all. But it was better than rushing in there blindly.
Sorry, dude. Better you than me.
Once he managed to get to the nearest window, he stepped aside to avoid being seen immediately, got into a kneeling position and smashed the window with his shovel. He immediately took a few more steps to the side, putting him at the corner of the cabin and giving him a limited view of the door. Only then did he notice that it had shut.
Oh, fuck.
Again? God, this day was hell on him. In the span of a few hours, Kevin had narrowly escaped from an explosion, ran through the woods, and witnessed a murder. Now he was crouching in the bushes, watching... what's-his-name bash down a cabin door with his shoulder. He would've assumed that the people inside would have been in a world of trouble once that mountain of flesh got inside.
But that sound that preceded the door's demise chilled him to the bone. It was a muffled bang, like a firecracker in a trunk. Was it a gun? He didn't know. He didn't see a flash. But if it was.... he had a chance.
It was so stupidly dangerous that he couldn't believe that he risking his life for this. But he was going to end up on the business end of a firearm anyways. Knowing what he was getting into and potentially having a way to defend himself properly was too much to resist.
He took a deep breath, pulled the shovel out, and started crawling towards the cabin from the side. His plan was simple and damn near suicidal. In fact, he was somewhat sure that it wouldn't work at all. But it was better than rushing in there blindly.
Sorry, dude. Better you than me.
Once he managed to get to the nearest window, he stepped aside to avoid being seen immediately, got into a kneeling position and smashed the window with his shovel. He immediately took a few more steps to the side, putting him at the corner of the cabin and giving him a limited view of the door. Only then did he notice that it had shut.
Oh, fuck.
-
Hallucinojelly*
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:17 am
Trent sighed.
This place was way too big for him. Even if it was his subconscious, he didn't realize it'd be so vast - it wasn't like he had a lot of thoughts to bury around here. If only he had a map or something. At the very least, he had some to time to kill while he wandered around, which was good. It meant he could think over things a little better before he returned to the real world.
"The dog days really are over, aren't they?"
"Whuh?"
The voice floated on from nearby, but as far as he could see there was only darkness here - not an ounce of people. Maybe the demons had learnt to talk? Heh, he wondered what they'd have to say about their new friend. But no, the voice had sounded familiar. Like... a man he knew. Eyes scanning, Trent jumped as he felt a warm breath on the back of his neck.
"What the fu- RON?!"
Yep, his stepfather, Ronald Savage, stood right there in his world with the thinnest of smiles adorning his stupid, moustached face. He wore his usual brown business suit, with his usual polished-to-perfection shoes hovering just an inch off the ground as he looked over his stepson's body.
"You look a little worse for wear, son. What've you been doing in here?"
"I..."
Trent went quiet. Okay, so yeah, maybe he was in a crazy dream world, and yeah, maybe there were demons and Danyas and god knows what else, but seriously? Ron? Right now? Why the hell was Ron here? He hated the guy. There'd be no reason for Trent to ever want him there, not even if Hayley Williams offered to give him a damn sponge bath.
"You okay, son? You're looking awfully peaky."
Of course I'm looking "peaky", you're not supposed to be here, dick.
"Did you just call your old man a dick?"
What?!
"Wha- wait, you're not-"
"Ohhh, I can read your thoughts. Right, yes, I should have mentioned that. We are in your subconscious after all."
Ron gave a small chuckle, his moustache fluttering where his breath ran against it. Trent had always hated his moustache. It made him look important, which he wasn't. All Ron did was work at a small paper company. Who even needed paper nowadays? What a joke. As for the mind-reading? Hell, that just pissed him off even more.
"So... what do you want to do?"
"What do I- What? What the hell is this? Why do you wanna "do something" with me all of a sudden? You shouldn't even be here."
Trent was angry now, his fists clenching themselves to stop him from throttling the guy.
"...Is that a no?"
...
What.
"Okay, that's it, you're fuckin' off now."
This place was way too big for him. Even if it was his subconscious, he didn't realize it'd be so vast - it wasn't like he had a lot of thoughts to bury around here. If only he had a map or something. At the very least, he had some to time to kill while he wandered around, which was good. It meant he could think over things a little better before he returned to the real world.
"The dog days really are over, aren't they?"
"Whuh?"
The voice floated on from nearby, but as far as he could see there was only darkness here - not an ounce of people. Maybe the demons had learnt to talk? Heh, he wondered what they'd have to say about their new friend. But no, the voice had sounded familiar. Like... a man he knew. Eyes scanning, Trent jumped as he felt a warm breath on the back of his neck.
"What the fu- RON?!"
Yep, his stepfather, Ronald Savage, stood right there in his world with the thinnest of smiles adorning his stupid, moustached face. He wore his usual brown business suit, with his usual polished-to-perfection shoes hovering just an inch off the ground as he looked over his stepson's body.
"You look a little worse for wear, son. What've you been doing in here?"
"I..."
Trent went quiet. Okay, so yeah, maybe he was in a crazy dream world, and yeah, maybe there were demons and Danyas and god knows what else, but seriously? Ron? Right now? Why the hell was Ron here? He hated the guy. There'd be no reason for Trent to ever want him there, not even if Hayley Williams offered to give him a damn sponge bath.
"You okay, son? You're looking awfully peaky."
Of course I'm looking "peaky", you're not supposed to be here, dick.
"Did you just call your old man a dick?"
What?!
"Wha- wait, you're not-"
"Ohhh, I can read your thoughts. Right, yes, I should have mentioned that. We are in your subconscious after all."
Ron gave a small chuckle, his moustache fluttering where his breath ran against it. Trent had always hated his moustache. It made him look important, which he wasn't. All Ron did was work at a small paper company. Who even needed paper nowadays? What a joke. As for the mind-reading? Hell, that just pissed him off even more.
"So... what do you want to do?"
"What do I- What? What the hell is this? Why do you wanna "do something" with me all of a sudden? You shouldn't even be here."
Trent was angry now, his fists clenching themselves to stop him from throttling the guy.
"...Is that a no?"
...
What.
"Okay, that's it, you're fuckin' off now."