It was starting to rain, because of course it was.
The drops started to patter down all throughout the Bay, impacting the water with small circles that flourished outward for a split-second before being replaced with another. The sand began to dampen around the beach, and in the retreating sun, the small droplets of water clung to the grass for dear life. Water soaked into the faded 'welcome sign', each collection making the old wood a darker shade of brown, the paint peeling yet still visible.
It was beautiful; the kind of landscape that a photographer might capture and slap on a magazine somewhere.
The only small blemish on the whole scene was the dead body of Sapphire Waters, laying in a pool of blood, the droplets of water mixing with the dark red fluid that was still soaking through the ground.
You know, just a small blemish.
((Ariana Moretti continued from Black Holes (Solid Ground)))
Ariana Moretti's shoulders were slack as she stood in front of the body. There was no more pretending, no more compartmentalizing it at all. Hearing names was one thing, but seeing was believing. She felt the rain on her bare arms, her shirt and hair starting to collect the rain. It barely seemed to matter. This was truly happening to them, and this was her confirmation.
"Crap," she sighed.
Sapphire lay very still, the ugly wound in her side obviously the cause of her untimely demise. What shook Ariana more than anything else was that Sapphire's name wasn't on the morning announcements. It had been barely an hour or two since she'd awoken in the woods and heard the list of the damned, but at that point, this girl had been alive. Either that, or those fucks were playing mind games with them.
Neither possibility was all that appealing.
Along with the pure and unarguable fact that people she'd grown up with were actively killing, the why was almost worse to try and understand. Sapphire had been a quiet girl, someone who was actively kind to those around her. Ariana had always liked her, though she'd never said very much. Did someone see her as an easy target? Had she befallen someone in her last moments that had betrayed her?
Had she died alone?
Ariana's hand went instinctively to her hair, absently shaking the droplets of water out of it and crawling down to find the locket at her chest. Those were the kinds of questions that she'd probably never know the answer to. Whomever had the story of Sapphire's last moments were either guilty of a horrible crime, or might be on the run themselves from whomever had done this. Shaking her head, she pinched the bridge of her nose.
This was the first real-life body she'd ever seen.
It felt wrong to just leave her here.
As the rain continued to come down, Ariana once again considered the weapon in her hand. It gave her an advantage over the people who might have been looking to victimize her. Would it prevent her from ending up like Sapphire; a spent pile of muscles on the ground, left around like yesterday's garbage?
Her mind started to put some pieces together, but as the puzzle started to take shape, Ariana found that she didn't much care for the picture it was making.
So instead she stood over the body, quietly contemplating her next move.
The Sky is a Neighbourhood
Day 2; noonish - post announcement; open
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Latin For Dragula
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((Hel Fury continued from Survival of the Fittest? At this time of day, in this part of the country, localised entirely within your high school?))
You know, they say public speaking is the number one fear among Americans. They in this case was every coach they'd ever had for debate. Hel wasn't sure that could be true, but a bunch of studies really wanted you to believe it was, and that death wasn't even close to touching it. They'd seen rankings putting death at two, five, even tenth place while public speaking sat at number one. If that data was to be believed, the man disinterestedly informing them how many of their friends had died yesterday was up to ten times more afraid than any of them had been in their last seconds. Well, he carried it real well. In fact, and if this fucked up all those studies they were real sorry about it, but it sounded like he was enjoying himself. Dude had jokes like he was handing out thanks for new subscribers on a slightly tipsy Saturday night.
Abel came first, and before they knew whether he'd killed or been killed they could feel Andy's heart breaking in their chest. Gods they hoped he wasn't alone. Finding him before it was too late cycled to the top of their priorities.
Finding him wasn't as big a deal, but their heart hurt for Stepney too. Toby was his friend, and if the last words he'd spoken about him were any sign he'd probably spent all day stewing in negative thoughts about him. Sometimes when you put stuff like that out into the universe...listen, no matter whether you shared their beliefs or not, you could see the connection. Whatever burden his anger had placed on him would be much heavier if replaced with guilt. Their side ached too much for them to wish Toby well, but he hadn't deserved to die.
It kept going. Christine. Beryl. Violet. Other names scattered next to them that didn't tug in their chest as hard as those five, but none of them deserved this either. There were shitty people here, 'cuz there were shitty people everywhere, but even the worst of George Hunter High's worst didn't deserve to die alone a functional infinite distance from home. It was almost enough to make them shut down and block the whole thing out, because their first impulse was that no one deserved this; that wasn't true though. The only people who deserved what was coming to them were the names that followed behind the dead, and Hel had to remember them. While each was still fresh in their mind, they fumbled in their bag for the slightly damp journal they'd scavenged last night. They'd almost left it behind when it looked like all the marked pages had been torn out, but if their own notepad had been important enough that it got taken with their phone the paper had to be good for something, right? There'd been a couple pencils too. Keeping each section neat and easily tearable made the work slow, and their handwriting was shitty and out of practice enough that their wrist ached by the time they were finished. That was good though. Each inconvenience was both a personal sacrifice and a statement of cosmic intent that sealed their pact long before it would be time to complete it. The last step could be finished here in the same way they'd always done it. A lighter would do the trick. That wouldn't be good enough though; sacrifice and intent, not simplicity. What they had always done had never carried this kind of meaning. If they were going to will death into the world, they had to start anew.
Hel opened their map, and made their way to the sea.
Seeing someone standing over a dead body was never a good look. Especially when that person came with a, uh, questionable pedigree. Okay, that wasn't entirely fair. All Cops Are Bastards, it been knew, but there was unappreciated nuance to that statements. All Cops Are Bastards when broken down less pithily meant all cops are complicit. When bad cops did bad shit and good cops closed rank around them, they became accessories, and it was by the philosophy of All Cops Are Bastards impossible to be a "good" cop who remained untouched by sketchy procedure. You could make a lot of valid arguments about how change must come from within and highlighting their degree of guilt only made "good" cops less likely to act out, but when you lived in the kind of place Hel did as the kind of person Hel was living with the kind of fears Hel had around "bad" cops handing them a second transphobia laced beating if they called in being assaulted, it was safer to assume there were no "good" or "bad" cops, just bastards. Harsh but they weren't losing any sleep over what some queer geek thought, right?
Ariana wasn't exactly a cop though? She super obviously wanted to be one, anyone with two eyes and a pulse could tell you that looking at her choice of t-shirt, but she wasn't part of The System yet. Ariana could be a really good person who wanted to do good things and hadn't had to be asked to make any of the compromises that made someone like Hel uncomfortable around her. Plus Zen had told them about how she'd slapped the stupid out of Marco at Mikki's party, and that was probably a plus? Okay, out the other end of it she had more of a wannabe paladin vibe than a power-tripping douche vibe even with all the cop adjacent points. Despite that Hel found themself holding their hands open to the sides of their chest before they even called out.
"Hey." They stopped maybe ten feet away, maybe a little more. It was so fucking hot, but they still shivered a little with the light rain dripping down their skin. "Who, um, who is it?" They couldn't force their eyes down to the body's features. Hopefully Ariana would make eye contact so they could feel a little less guilty about that.
You know, they say public speaking is the number one fear among Americans. They in this case was every coach they'd ever had for debate. Hel wasn't sure that could be true, but a bunch of studies really wanted you to believe it was, and that death wasn't even close to touching it. They'd seen rankings putting death at two, five, even tenth place while public speaking sat at number one. If that data was to be believed, the man disinterestedly informing them how many of their friends had died yesterday was up to ten times more afraid than any of them had been in their last seconds. Well, he carried it real well. In fact, and if this fucked up all those studies they were real sorry about it, but it sounded like he was enjoying himself. Dude had jokes like he was handing out thanks for new subscribers on a slightly tipsy Saturday night.
Abel came first, and before they knew whether he'd killed or been killed they could feel Andy's heart breaking in their chest. Gods they hoped he wasn't alone. Finding him before it was too late cycled to the top of their priorities.
Finding him wasn't as big a deal, but their heart hurt for Stepney too. Toby was his friend, and if the last words he'd spoken about him were any sign he'd probably spent all day stewing in negative thoughts about him. Sometimes when you put stuff like that out into the universe...listen, no matter whether you shared their beliefs or not, you could see the connection. Whatever burden his anger had placed on him would be much heavier if replaced with guilt. Their side ached too much for them to wish Toby well, but he hadn't deserved to die.
It kept going. Christine. Beryl. Violet. Other names scattered next to them that didn't tug in their chest as hard as those five, but none of them deserved this either. There were shitty people here, 'cuz there were shitty people everywhere, but even the worst of George Hunter High's worst didn't deserve to die alone a functional infinite distance from home. It was almost enough to make them shut down and block the whole thing out, because their first impulse was that no one deserved this; that wasn't true though. The only people who deserved what was coming to them were the names that followed behind the dead, and Hel had to remember them. While each was still fresh in their mind, they fumbled in their bag for the slightly damp journal they'd scavenged last night. They'd almost left it behind when it looked like all the marked pages had been torn out, but if their own notepad had been important enough that it got taken with their phone the paper had to be good for something, right? There'd been a couple pencils too. Keeping each section neat and easily tearable made the work slow, and their handwriting was shitty and out of practice enough that their wrist ached by the time they were finished. That was good though. Each inconvenience was both a personal sacrifice and a statement of cosmic intent that sealed their pact long before it would be time to complete it. The last step could be finished here in the same way they'd always done it. A lighter would do the trick. That wouldn't be good enough though; sacrifice and intent, not simplicity. What they had always done had never carried this kind of meaning. If they were going to will death into the world, they had to start anew.
Hel opened their map, and made their way to the sea.
Seeing someone standing over a dead body was never a good look. Especially when that person came with a, uh, questionable pedigree. Okay, that wasn't entirely fair. All Cops Are Bastards, it been knew, but there was unappreciated nuance to that statements. All Cops Are Bastards when broken down less pithily meant all cops are complicit. When bad cops did bad shit and good cops closed rank around them, they became accessories, and it was by the philosophy of All Cops Are Bastards impossible to be a "good" cop who remained untouched by sketchy procedure. You could make a lot of valid arguments about how change must come from within and highlighting their degree of guilt only made "good" cops less likely to act out, but when you lived in the kind of place Hel did as the kind of person Hel was living with the kind of fears Hel had around "bad" cops handing them a second transphobia laced beating if they called in being assaulted, it was safer to assume there were no "good" or "bad" cops, just bastards. Harsh but they weren't losing any sleep over what some queer geek thought, right?
Ariana wasn't exactly a cop though? She super obviously wanted to be one, anyone with two eyes and a pulse could tell you that looking at her choice of t-shirt, but she wasn't part of The System yet. Ariana could be a really good person who wanted to do good things and hadn't had to be asked to make any of the compromises that made someone like Hel uncomfortable around her. Plus Zen had told them about how she'd slapped the stupid out of Marco at Mikki's party, and that was probably a plus? Okay, out the other end of it she had more of a wannabe paladin vibe than a power-tripping douche vibe even with all the cop adjacent points. Despite that Hel found themself holding their hands open to the sides of their chest before they even called out.
"Hey." They stopped maybe ten feet away, maybe a little more. It was so fucking hot, but they still shivered a little with the light rain dripping down their skin. "Who, um, who is it?" They couldn't force their eyes down to the body's features. Hopefully Ariana would make eye contact so they could feel a little less guilty about that.
A voice.
Yesterday, Ariana might have whirled around and taken aim at whomever was behind her. But here, and now, in the rain? In front of what remained of Sapphire? Every movement felt as though it took an extra emphasis to make, an extra effort. The air was heavy, thick with humidity that the rain had barely started to cut through, but it was also heavy with dread as well.
Ariana knew the voice. It was Helena - 'Hell Fury' herself; not someone who likely had murder in her eyes, or her heart. Indeed, by the way that she asked the question, Ariana didn't even have to look to know that she likely couldn't bear to examine the body. It was the kind of question that was probably acting as both a shield for Hel's own feelings, and a way of asking a question that in the here and now, probably needed to start being asked.
The question of motivation.
Wiping some rain from her forehead, Ariana sighed, still not turning around.
"It's Sapphire," she glumly stated.
Waiting another moment, she slowly turned around to look at her classmate. Much as Ariana surmised she herself did, Helena looked like, well, her namesake. Her and Hel had never been friends, but she seemed a good enough sort. She'd obviously had a unique road in life, a challenging upbringing, but by way of reputation, she was the sort of person who was rarely spoken ill of. Usually always there, but not the focal point of the room. An unobjectionable presence.
Reminded her of someone, of course.
"It doesn't," she stopped, trying to work through it in her mind, "I don't understand. They just announced it all. Are people still - she must have just-"
Her voice was distant, far away. Very unlike the Ariana Moretti whose voice could not be contained by mere concrete walls.
"Fuck."
Yesterday, Ariana might have whirled around and taken aim at whomever was behind her. But here, and now, in the rain? In front of what remained of Sapphire? Every movement felt as though it took an extra emphasis to make, an extra effort. The air was heavy, thick with humidity that the rain had barely started to cut through, but it was also heavy with dread as well.
Ariana knew the voice. It was Helena - 'Hell Fury' herself; not someone who likely had murder in her eyes, or her heart. Indeed, by the way that she asked the question, Ariana didn't even have to look to know that she likely couldn't bear to examine the body. It was the kind of question that was probably acting as both a shield for Hel's own feelings, and a way of asking a question that in the here and now, probably needed to start being asked.
The question of motivation.
Wiping some rain from her forehead, Ariana sighed, still not turning around.
"It's Sapphire," she glumly stated.
Waiting another moment, she slowly turned around to look at her classmate. Much as Ariana surmised she herself did, Helena looked like, well, her namesake. Her and Hel had never been friends, but she seemed a good enough sort. She'd obviously had a unique road in life, a challenging upbringing, but by way of reputation, she was the sort of person who was rarely spoken ill of. Usually always there, but not the focal point of the room. An unobjectionable presence.
Reminded her of someone, of course.
"It doesn't," she stopped, trying to work through it in her mind, "I don't understand. They just announced it all. Are people still - she must have just-"
Her voice was distant, far away. Very unlike the Ariana Moretti whose voice could not be contained by mere concrete walls.
"Fuck."
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Latin For Dragula
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Hel's desire to avoid the body melted under incredulity. Sapphire? Of all people, Sapphire? If you wanted to get real survivalist and fucked up, Hel could see reasons why someone might be afraid of Abel or Christine; as cool as they were, they had the athleticism to hurt someone if they could find the will. Beryl knew her way around more guns than Hel could name. Violet had a protective streak that was bound to get her in trouble one day. Dante, yeah even Dante could have been a threat if you were messed up to believe there was any malice behind that dopey, flirty grin. Sapphire, though? Hel knew Sapphire better than all of them except Beryl. It was hard for the occult kids to miss each other. Anxious, out of shape, off in other worlds only a handful of their classmates could appreciate as childish at best and insane at worst. They liked her, had always kind of regretted not spending more time with her. The kind of relationship where you weren't waiting to see them when reunion invites came out ten years from now, but you were happy if they showed up anyway, y'know?
They looked down at her and quietly echoed Ariana. "Fuck." It wasn't right. Her name hadn't been called. "I didn't hear anything so it couldn't have been, I mean, no one ran by from the village, it must have happened awhile ago..." Their voice trailed off with their gaze. Somewhere there might have been tracks or blood spatter if the rain hadn't washed them away, a discarded weapon, a dropped bag, anything to connect them with who did this. There were bags near her body, probably hers but on the long shot they weren't it couldn't hurt to check. "There's got to be a name," they mumbled absently, "I need the name..." Especially for Sapphire. Sapphire might understand what they were doing. Might even be able to help if she was still so close.
They looked down at her and quietly echoed Ariana. "Fuck." It wasn't right. Her name hadn't been called. "I didn't hear anything so it couldn't have been, I mean, no one ran by from the village, it must have happened awhile ago..." Their voice trailed off with their gaze. Somewhere there might have been tracks or blood spatter if the rain hadn't washed them away, a discarded weapon, a dropped bag, anything to connect them with who did this. There were bags near her body, probably hers but on the long shot they weren't it couldn't hurt to check. "There's got to be a name," they mumbled absently, "I need the name..." Especially for Sapphire. Sapphire might understand what they were doing. Might even be able to help if she was still so close.
As she slowly walked over to the discarded bags on the ground and casually picked them up, Ariana felt like a morbid scavenger. Neither bag had an identifying marker on it; one looked much like the kind she had been given, and Hel too from the looks of it. Taking the onus to search through the duffel, she handed the other bag over to Hel. Her classmate was having as hard a time coping with all of this as she was, but if she were searching for answers, a personal bag might yield more. Indeed, her own search came up empty. Nothing that could signify an identifier as to whom was responsible for Sapphire's death. Just more supplies.
Looking up at Helena and trying very hard to pretend that there wasn't the dead body of one of her classmates sitting mere feet away from her, Ariana wiped some rain off her forehead.
"Nothing in here. Supplies, mainly."
She couldn't help it. Ariana's eyes moved across the beach to their erstwhile classmate. The wound was in her side, and looked as though it were from a sword, or an axe, or something sharp enough to cause a major gash. She'd obviously bled to death.
"Have we really started this horseshit already," she mumbled; more of an observation than a query.
Ariana gave Sapphire's body a long look. None of this felt real, still. She had been so very prepared to do what she had to in order to help her group survive, but she hadn't been prepared for the reality of the situation. No matter how hard she steeled herself against the truth, it was here in front of her. The world was now a different place for them. The rules had changed. Everything had changed.
"Hel," Ariana softly called out, "we should do something — for Sapphire, I mean. Like a, a burial. Or send her out into the ocean. I don't think we should leave her here to rot. She deserves more."
They all did. Sapphire was a nice girl and Ariana couldn't remember anyone having a bad word to say about her. Someone like that deserved a long life filled with experience. Not a shallow grave or a burial at sea on a hellish island. The thought filled her with anger once more, over-top of the sadness. She thought back to the days before, at the Survival of the Fittest monument. She'd been affected by that, by the names engraved upon the stones.
Their names would be joining the list soon enough.
Dammit.
Looking up at Helena and trying very hard to pretend that there wasn't the dead body of one of her classmates sitting mere feet away from her, Ariana wiped some rain off her forehead.
"Nothing in here. Supplies, mainly."
She couldn't help it. Ariana's eyes moved across the beach to their erstwhile classmate. The wound was in her side, and looked as though it were from a sword, or an axe, or something sharp enough to cause a major gash. She'd obviously bled to death.
"Have we really started this horseshit already," she mumbled; more of an observation than a query.
Ariana gave Sapphire's body a long look. None of this felt real, still. She had been so very prepared to do what she had to in order to help her group survive, but she hadn't been prepared for the reality of the situation. No matter how hard she steeled herself against the truth, it was here in front of her. The world was now a different place for them. The rules had changed. Everything had changed.
"Hel," Ariana softly called out, "we should do something — for Sapphire, I mean. Like a, a burial. Or send her out into the ocean. I don't think we should leave her here to rot. She deserves more."
They all did. Sapphire was a nice girl and Ariana couldn't remember anyone having a bad word to say about her. Someone like that deserved a long life filled with experience. Not a shallow grave or a burial at sea on a hellish island. The thought filled her with anger once more, over-top of the sadness. She thought back to the days before, at the Survival of the Fittest monument. She'd been affected by that, by the names engraved upon the stones.
Their names would be joining the list soon enough.
Dammit.
((Aurelien Valter continued from I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles))
It didn’t take too long to reach the bay area from the village. He just had to follow the path, winding down past the cliffs, away from the trees and away from civilisation, and towards where the sky and sea met, both turning similar shades of slate grey as Aurelien walked towards them.
He had no great desire to visit the bay over anywhere else, of course. It was just somewhere to go. Somewhere to move his body. Somewhere that they might be. He had no leads as to where Blaise had skulked off to; they hadn’t been considerate enough, or sloppy enough, to leave a trial of blood away from the house, or footsteps of any sort. So he just had to pick a direction and, well, hope. The danger zones would help to start fencing them in, particularly when they started becoming permanent.
But even if they didn’t, for whatever reason, he’d find them. No matter how long it took. No matter what he had to do.
The rain started to fall as he walked, but he barely noticed it, eyes blinking or widening whenever a raindrop suddenly appeared in front of them, but for the most part, he ignored it, as it soaked into his hair and his clothes, mingling with the sweat garnered from carrying his bags and his solid metal weapon. He barely noticed those two, either, the weight of the mace only being brought to his attention when he absently scratched his back and felt the perspiration clinging to it, or when he adjusted his weapon in his arms and suddenly felt them ache momentarily.
Soon enough, he was at the bay itself, walking steadily towards two people, looking solemnly downwards. The rain was still relatively gentle. He couldn’t tell exactly who they both were with their backs to him, but he could tell that neither of them were who he was looking for. Didn’t have the right height, didn’t have the right build. Still, they might know something about where Blaise was right now, so he kept on moving.
Then he stopped. And stared, looking down between their feet, following the angle their heads were tilted at. There was a body lying there, the two of them looming over it. That made three. Three bodies he’d seen in less than two days.
His mouth hung open slightly, and he felt his hands squeeze tighter around the handle of the mace.
“Hey!”
The word left his lips before he knew it, and all of a sudden, he was moving towards them again, faster now, and faster and faster still.
“Hey!”
It didn’t take too long to reach the bay area from the village. He just had to follow the path, winding down past the cliffs, away from the trees and away from civilisation, and towards where the sky and sea met, both turning similar shades of slate grey as Aurelien walked towards them.
He had no great desire to visit the bay over anywhere else, of course. It was just somewhere to go. Somewhere to move his body. Somewhere that they might be. He had no leads as to where Blaise had skulked off to; they hadn’t been considerate enough, or sloppy enough, to leave a trial of blood away from the house, or footsteps of any sort. So he just had to pick a direction and, well, hope. The danger zones would help to start fencing them in, particularly when they started becoming permanent.
But even if they didn’t, for whatever reason, he’d find them. No matter how long it took. No matter what he had to do.
The rain started to fall as he walked, but he barely noticed it, eyes blinking or widening whenever a raindrop suddenly appeared in front of them, but for the most part, he ignored it, as it soaked into his hair and his clothes, mingling with the sweat garnered from carrying his bags and his solid metal weapon. He barely noticed those two, either, the weight of the mace only being brought to his attention when he absently scratched his back and felt the perspiration clinging to it, or when he adjusted his weapon in his arms and suddenly felt them ache momentarily.
Soon enough, he was at the bay itself, walking steadily towards two people, looking solemnly downwards. The rain was still relatively gentle. He couldn’t tell exactly who they both were with their backs to him, but he could tell that neither of them were who he was looking for. Didn’t have the right height, didn’t have the right build. Still, they might know something about where Blaise was right now, so he kept on moving.
Then he stopped. And stared, looking down between their feet, following the angle their heads were tilted at. There was a body lying there, the two of them looming over it. That made three. Three bodies he’d seen in less than two days.
His mouth hung open slightly, and he felt his hands squeeze tighter around the handle of the mace.
“Hey!”
The word left his lips before he knew it, and all of a sudden, he was moving towards them again, faster now, and faster and faster still.
“Hey!”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
[Jackson Sullivan Continued From Full Nelson]
The bay had only been a short walk from where he’d slept the night before. It was probably close to midday by now, and of all things it had started to rain. It was no storm, but the droplets were still as much an annoyance as they were weirdly refreshing. It was probably the closest he was going to get to taking a shower today, so he may as well try to enjoy it, he supposed. If anything, maybe that meant most people were hiding out indoors, and maybe that meant there would be less of a chance for someone to jump him in the woods while he walked.
He sighed and continued on the path.
As he approached the bay, a loud voice startled him out of his thoughts. He sped up his walking speed, and saw what looked like Aurelien, who was a very big dude and hard to confuse with anyone else really, seemingly charging at two girls in the distance. Jackson’s eyes widened as he began to panic. What should he do? Should he get himself involved? Aurelien was carrying something huge and heavy in his hands. Getting hit by that would not feel good at all. But still… Even if everyone planned on giving in to the game, Jackson had to at least try to bring them to their senses.
Aurelien wasn’t the kind of guy who would hurt someone, that much he knew.
He had to stop him before he made a mistake.
“Aurelien, Stop!” he yelled out, as he ran as fast as he could over the sand to try and catch up to the much larger boy before he could reach the girls.
“You don’t have to do this! Just hold on, damnit!” He cried, hoping it would at least make the boy hesitate so that he could catch up to him.
The bay had only been a short walk from where he’d slept the night before. It was probably close to midday by now, and of all things it had started to rain. It was no storm, but the droplets were still as much an annoyance as they were weirdly refreshing. It was probably the closest he was going to get to taking a shower today, so he may as well try to enjoy it, he supposed. If anything, maybe that meant most people were hiding out indoors, and maybe that meant there would be less of a chance for someone to jump him in the woods while he walked.
He sighed and continued on the path.
As he approached the bay, a loud voice startled him out of his thoughts. He sped up his walking speed, and saw what looked like Aurelien, who was a very big dude and hard to confuse with anyone else really, seemingly charging at two girls in the distance. Jackson’s eyes widened as he began to panic. What should he do? Should he get himself involved? Aurelien was carrying something huge and heavy in his hands. Getting hit by that would not feel good at all. But still… Even if everyone planned on giving in to the game, Jackson had to at least try to bring them to their senses.
Aurelien wasn’t the kind of guy who would hurt someone, that much he knew.
He had to stop him before he made a mistake.
“Aurelien, Stop!” he yelled out, as he ran as fast as he could over the sand to try and catch up to the much larger boy before he could reach the girls.
“You don’t have to do this! Just hold on, damnit!” He cried, hoping it would at least make the boy hesitate so that he could catch up to him.
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Latin For Dragula
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She was right. This heat, all the humidity, the exposure to the sun...Hel had seen some fucked up pictures of what happened to bodies left to bake on islands like this in World War 2. They shuddered at the time lapse sick assholes were going to make of the bodies left that way were the bodies could see them. Sapphire deserved so much better than that. Like, she deserved better than they could give in the first place, she deserved to go home and be remembered and buried like a human being surrounded by people that cared about her, but none of them were getting that. Getting her away from prying eyes was the least the two of them could do for her. "Yeah. You're right, that's kind of you. I, we weren't super close or anything but I knew her. I don't think she'd want to be left like this. The ocean's probably-"
A shout, then a rush of footsteps followed by a louder voice.
The last time Hel had seen Aurelien that they remembered was prom. They'd probably seen each other around since then, but it was a hella vivid image. Seeing him and Dante together looking so happy made a lot about the guy click, y'know? They'd always thought Dante was a creep who didn't understand the word "no," but they were the last person to burn someone for performative heteronormativity. Gods, imagine if they'd made it to high school still in the closet? They'd have been a fucking mess, probably circling around the edges of the nice guy crowd. Maybe not full incel, they couldn't imagine ever getting that bad, but there but grace of gods go I, y'know? They were happy for both of them, especially being comfortable enough to lay it all out there like that. Maybe if they'd been closer Hel and Dante could have had some good talks about the whole thing. From all accounts he was a good guy other than the serial flirting. Was. He was dead now, and Aurelien had to know that. Hel wasn't going to put themself in his shoes. They didn't have that kind of anger in them. On the other hand, they could imagine exactly what Axel would do if something had happened to them and he was charging at two people standing over a body.
Hel and Ariana were going to die.
Their hand flinched at their side. If he wouldn't listen to them, or maybe he'd totally snapped and just wanted to hurt someone, they had to act first. The Luger was still there under their shirt, hadn't found a better place for it. Their fingertips didn't even come close to drawing it, though. Another voice broke through, Ariana's, someone knew? It felt far away. Everything around them dulled but the sharp, rage filled eyes staring straight through them. They couldn't stop him, or if they could maybe they shouldn't. That fatalistic itch rose to pose a question: did they have anything better to offer here than being crushed as an outlet of his sorrow?
They didn't know. When it asked, they never knew. Freezing kept them so safe when it bid them to jump off the edge of a balcony, swerve into traffic, slit their wrists while cooking, overdose on any number of medications, so many mundane suggestions that came and passed over them day to day. Get down, stay down, hope you don't get hurt anymore, right? It was a good strategy, unless you didn't expect to survive the first hit.
The image of their skull crushed to pieces like an over the top fatality scored with Aurelien's roar and Ariana's scream flashed before their eyes.
They didn't move.
A shout, then a rush of footsteps followed by a louder voice.
The last time Hel had seen Aurelien that they remembered was prom. They'd probably seen each other around since then, but it was a hella vivid image. Seeing him and Dante together looking so happy made a lot about the guy click, y'know? They'd always thought Dante was a creep who didn't understand the word "no," but they were the last person to burn someone for performative heteronormativity. Gods, imagine if they'd made it to high school still in the closet? They'd have been a fucking mess, probably circling around the edges of the nice guy crowd. Maybe not full incel, they couldn't imagine ever getting that bad, but there but grace of gods go I, y'know? They were happy for both of them, especially being comfortable enough to lay it all out there like that. Maybe if they'd been closer Hel and Dante could have had some good talks about the whole thing. From all accounts he was a good guy other than the serial flirting. Was. He was dead now, and Aurelien had to know that. Hel wasn't going to put themself in his shoes. They didn't have that kind of anger in them. On the other hand, they could imagine exactly what Axel would do if something had happened to them and he was charging at two people standing over a body.
Hel and Ariana were going to die.
Their hand flinched at their side. If he wouldn't listen to them, or maybe he'd totally snapped and just wanted to hurt someone, they had to act first. The Luger was still there under their shirt, hadn't found a better place for it. Their fingertips didn't even come close to drawing it, though. Another voice broke through, Ariana's, someone knew? It felt far away. Everything around them dulled but the sharp, rage filled eyes staring straight through them. They couldn't stop him, or if they could maybe they shouldn't. That fatalistic itch rose to pose a question: did they have anything better to offer here than being crushed as an outlet of his sorrow?
They didn't know. When it asked, they never knew. Freezing kept them so safe when it bid them to jump off the edge of a balcony, swerve into traffic, slit their wrists while cooking, overdose on any number of medications, so many mundane suggestions that came and passed over them day to day. Get down, stay down, hope you don't get hurt anymore, right? It was a good strategy, unless you didn't expect to survive the first hit.
The image of their skull crushed to pieces like an over the top fatality scored with Aurelien's roar and Ariana's scream flashed before their eyes.
They didn't move.
Ariana solemnly nodded. "The ocean is probably the best ide-"
She was pulled from the grisly duty of trying to decide how best to float Sapphire's body away into the ocean by someone calling out at them from afar. Two proclamations, both of them saying the same word but the inflection on the second telling a whole different story. Looking away from the body in front of them, the hairs on the back of Ariana's neck stood up on end as she parsed the identity of the boy now making his way quickly towards them, mace in hand.
Oh, hell, it was Aurelien Valter, who was no doubt out of his mind at learning about his boyfriend's untimely demise. Ariana was suddenly very conscious of how guilty her and Helena probably looked, standing over the now dead Sapphire Waters.
"Shit," she muttered, looking over at Hel for a moment. She swallowed grimly as she realized that her classmate appeared frozen in fear. All their eyes said was blank acceptance of whatever Aurelien was on his way to impart to them. By the looks of his mace, it wasn't friendly. Had he snapped? Was he on the vengeance path now, operating off of some sort of unpleasant hit list? Or was he just looking for someone to take out his grief on.
Yeah, that last one was probably the most likely story from what she knew of Aurelien as a bit of a loose cannon, but she wasn't about to stand idly by and be anyone's punching bag. Or mace-ing bag. If there even was such a thing. Someone else's voice chimed in from afar, obviously seeing the cruel intentions from wherever they were coming from. The voice was familiar but Ariana wasn't about to pry her eyes away from the threat.
Raising her pistol, she pointed it at the ground in front of her so as not to make the same mistake she made with Rox-Anna or whoever the fuck she was calling herself now. If Aurelien was grief-stricken, she didn't want to exacerbate the situation if she could avoid it. Use her words, and all that.
But if he tried to take a swing at her or Hel, she'd put him down. She'd never been so sure of anything in her life.
"Hey, calm down," she projected across the beach, hoping the tone of her voice would snap Helena out of whatever terror they were buried within. "This wasn't us."
The other guy was racing along behind Aurelien, and now Ariana could see that it was Jackson Sullivan. Not necessarily the first person she'd choose to be involved in deescalating any situation, but he'd been chummy with Ross and he'd been a decent enough guy to send him a message last week, so she could look past the rumblings of a temper and his meltdown at Swiftball.
Hell, who hadn't melted down at Swiftball?
It all seemed so far away, and she longed for the days when things like that were the worst of her problems. When things like dead bodies and burials at sea and Glocks and explosive collars and spiked maces weren't their reality.
"Seriously, stop. I don't want to have to," she exhaled, trying to sound as convincing as she could holding the weapon in both her hands, "do anything rash."
She was pulled from the grisly duty of trying to decide how best to float Sapphire's body away into the ocean by someone calling out at them from afar. Two proclamations, both of them saying the same word but the inflection on the second telling a whole different story. Looking away from the body in front of them, the hairs on the back of Ariana's neck stood up on end as she parsed the identity of the boy now making his way quickly towards them, mace in hand.
Oh, hell, it was Aurelien Valter, who was no doubt out of his mind at learning about his boyfriend's untimely demise. Ariana was suddenly very conscious of how guilty her and Helena probably looked, standing over the now dead Sapphire Waters.
"Shit," she muttered, looking over at Hel for a moment. She swallowed grimly as she realized that her classmate appeared frozen in fear. All their eyes said was blank acceptance of whatever Aurelien was on his way to impart to them. By the looks of his mace, it wasn't friendly. Had he snapped? Was he on the vengeance path now, operating off of some sort of unpleasant hit list? Or was he just looking for someone to take out his grief on.
Yeah, that last one was probably the most likely story from what she knew of Aurelien as a bit of a loose cannon, but she wasn't about to stand idly by and be anyone's punching bag. Or mace-ing bag. If there even was such a thing. Someone else's voice chimed in from afar, obviously seeing the cruel intentions from wherever they were coming from. The voice was familiar but Ariana wasn't about to pry her eyes away from the threat.
Raising her pistol, she pointed it at the ground in front of her so as not to make the same mistake she made with Rox-Anna or whoever the fuck she was calling herself now. If Aurelien was grief-stricken, she didn't want to exacerbate the situation if she could avoid it. Use her words, and all that.
But if he tried to take a swing at her or Hel, she'd put him down. She'd never been so sure of anything in her life.
"Hey, calm down," she projected across the beach, hoping the tone of her voice would snap Helena out of whatever terror they were buried within. "This wasn't us."
The other guy was racing along behind Aurelien, and now Ariana could see that it was Jackson Sullivan. Not necessarily the first person she'd choose to be involved in deescalating any situation, but he'd been chummy with Ross and he'd been a decent enough guy to send him a message last week, so she could look past the rumblings of a temper and his meltdown at Swiftball.
Hell, who hadn't melted down at Swiftball?
It all seemed so far away, and she longed for the days when things like that were the worst of her problems. When things like dead bodies and burials at sea and Glocks and explosive collars and spiked maces weren't their reality.
"Seriously, stop. I don't want to have to," she exhaled, trying to sound as convincing as she could holding the weapon in both her hands, "do anything rash."
Hel didn’t move. They didn’t move, or say anything, or do anything to try and stop him. If Aurelien had been anywhere close to thinking straight, if his head had been anywhere near clear, he might have noticed that, might have recognised the deer-in-the-headlights look, the reaction of somebody panicking out of fear, rather than guilt. But he wasn’t. So he didn’t stop.
He glanced to the side as Jackson yelled at him, sparing him a moment’s glance and nothing more. He didn’t know why he was trying to defend two murderers, and he didn’t care. If he was in deep with them, then that was his loss; Aurelien could toss the boy to one side like he was nothing. He’d deal with him later. He didn’t stop for this, either.
But the gun, this gun that Ariana was holding, that was enough to stop him. Momentarily, at least. He didn’t drop or lower the mace, nor did his darkened face shift its expression from the glare pointed right at Hel and Ariana. If he remembered his facts about Ariana correctly, she had actual gun training. She probably knew how to handle her weapon.
Even so, he was already thinking about how quickly he could run over to her before she could raise the handgun.
“Oh yeah? Bullshit,” Aurelien spat. “Little too late not to be hasty, little too fucking late to change your tune after this.”
He jerked his head at Sapphire’s body, able to tell who it was now he was closer to it. Killing somebody, then lying about it before the body had even gone cold? That was the sort of thing Blaise would do. They were all just like Blaise, and his breathing started to get heavier and faster again as he thought about that.
“The announcements have just played, and Sapphire’s name wasn’t on ‘em, and now she’s dead, and now you’re standing over her body. Tell me the fucking truth!”
He took one step closer towards them.
He glanced to the side as Jackson yelled at him, sparing him a moment’s glance and nothing more. He didn’t know why he was trying to defend two murderers, and he didn’t care. If he was in deep with them, then that was his loss; Aurelien could toss the boy to one side like he was nothing. He’d deal with him later. He didn’t stop for this, either.
But the gun, this gun that Ariana was holding, that was enough to stop him. Momentarily, at least. He didn’t drop or lower the mace, nor did his darkened face shift its expression from the glare pointed right at Hel and Ariana. If he remembered his facts about Ariana correctly, she had actual gun training. She probably knew how to handle her weapon.
Even so, he was already thinking about how quickly he could run over to her before she could raise the handgun.
“Oh yeah? Bullshit,” Aurelien spat. “Little too late not to be hasty, little too fucking late to change your tune after this.”
He jerked his head at Sapphire’s body, able to tell who it was now he was closer to it. Killing somebody, then lying about it before the body had even gone cold? That was the sort of thing Blaise would do. They were all just like Blaise, and his breathing started to get heavier and faster again as he thought about that.
“The announcements have just played, and Sapphire’s name wasn’t on ‘em, and now she’s dead, and now you’re standing over her body. Tell me the fucking truth!”
He took one step closer towards them.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Jackson was hustling, trying to catch up to the speeding giant before he could reach his destination and do something reckless and terrible. His bag was flapping in the wind behind him as he sprinted as fast as he possibly could. His breath was coming in quick bursts and his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. It was beating so fast it felt like it was pounding in his head. His eyes remained trained on the curly mop of hair before him as he desperately pushed himself to stop the tragedy in progress. Why, Aurelien? This wasn’t like him! He wasn’t the kind of person who would let this terrible game control him! At least, that was what Jackson had believed. But that was the worst thing about being here. Seeing the truth of people he thought he’d known.
As he closed the distance between them, Aurelien’s targets became more visible, and Jackson finally was able to recognise the girls. Hel Fury and Ariana Moretti. Fuck! Hel looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a tractor trailer, and Ariana pulled a fucking gun. Shit! This was bound to get out of hand if he didn’t stop it before it was no longer possible. And Ariana… Ross’s girl. Ross was his friend. She wasn’t exactly Jackson’s friend, but fuck if he couldn’t stand by while his friends girl was killed right in front of him. Not only that, but he couldn’t let her shoot Aurelien either.
Noone had to die here! Not if he could help it!
Aurelien stopped his run in response to the gun coming out, and Jackson stopped himself as well a few feet behind him. Enough that he was out of range for the massive spiked mace Aurelien had gripped in his hand like he was some medieval warlord. Fuck. The sight of the massive weapon did little to make Jackson feel any more in control of the situation. If that thing hit someone, there was no ifs, ands, or buts, it would take them out in an instant. This was not a good situation. But fuck, he’d yet to find himself in a good situation on this hellscape of an island.
Aurelien was claiming that Ariana and Hel had killed someone, and that’s when Jackson finally noticed the body behind them. His breath caught in his throat as he was exposed to his second dead classmate in as many days. This time it was a girl. He recognized the hair and glasses. Sapphire. Her name hadn’t been on the announcements. That meant… someone had probably just done the deed. Fuck. she looked so much fucking worse than Abel had. Abel had only had a head wound, but this?! Her body was sliced the fuck open. Who could have done this? Why?
According to Auelien, Ariana and Hel were to blame.
Jackson wasn’t buying that. He couldn’t. It didn't make sense! He had to stop this.
“Aurelien, wait!” He called out, his hands up in front of him, trying to make it obvious he wasn’t looking for a fight and had no weapon on him.
“Let’s just calm down for a sec, okay? Sapphire… her body is cut open. It couldn’t have been them! Ariana has a fucking gun, man! There’s nothing here that could have hurt Sapphire like that!” He was basically pleading with the taller boy to see some semblance of reason.
“Please, don’t do nothing you can’t take back. C’mon, man!” His eyes were begging the boy.
As he closed the distance between them, Aurelien’s targets became more visible, and Jackson finally was able to recognise the girls. Hel Fury and Ariana Moretti. Fuck! Hel looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a tractor trailer, and Ariana pulled a fucking gun. Shit! This was bound to get out of hand if he didn’t stop it before it was no longer possible. And Ariana… Ross’s girl. Ross was his friend. She wasn’t exactly Jackson’s friend, but fuck if he couldn’t stand by while his friends girl was killed right in front of him. Not only that, but he couldn’t let her shoot Aurelien either.
Noone had to die here! Not if he could help it!
Aurelien stopped his run in response to the gun coming out, and Jackson stopped himself as well a few feet behind him. Enough that he was out of range for the massive spiked mace Aurelien had gripped in his hand like he was some medieval warlord. Fuck. The sight of the massive weapon did little to make Jackson feel any more in control of the situation. If that thing hit someone, there was no ifs, ands, or buts, it would take them out in an instant. This was not a good situation. But fuck, he’d yet to find himself in a good situation on this hellscape of an island.
Aurelien was claiming that Ariana and Hel had killed someone, and that’s when Jackson finally noticed the body behind them. His breath caught in his throat as he was exposed to his second dead classmate in as many days. This time it was a girl. He recognized the hair and glasses. Sapphire. Her name hadn’t been on the announcements. That meant… someone had probably just done the deed. Fuck. she looked so much fucking worse than Abel had. Abel had only had a head wound, but this?! Her body was sliced the fuck open. Who could have done this? Why?
According to Auelien, Ariana and Hel were to blame.
Jackson wasn’t buying that. He couldn’t. It didn't make sense! He had to stop this.
“Aurelien, wait!” He called out, his hands up in front of him, trying to make it obvious he wasn’t looking for a fight and had no weapon on him.
“Let’s just calm down for a sec, okay? Sapphire… her body is cut open. It couldn’t have been them! Ariana has a fucking gun, man! There’s nothing here that could have hurt Sapphire like that!” He was basically pleading with the taller boy to see some semblance of reason.
“Please, don’t do nothing you can’t take back. C’mon, man!” His eyes were begging the boy.
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Latin For Dragula
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Hel blinked and didn't expect to open their eyes again. Except they'd been open for some time now. The world kept moving. Everyone kept talking, and they were aware of that but behind it at the same time. Here, but also slightly back and to the left. Jackson and Ariana were making the case well enough. It wasn't like them to miss out on a debate, but they couldn't sink into it. It wasn't about logic, right? Aurelien wasn't here to hurt them for any reason other than his own anger, and if killing them would fix him, it'd be selfish to stop him. He wouldn't hurt anyone else, and they'd be dead. They wouldn't have to worry about any of this any more. That was their contribution. It was a good one, yeah?
Gods, what a load of shit. No, don't say it, they got it. It was idealization. Nothing useful was gonna come out of them dying like that and they weren't going to, they didn't believe all of it outside of the moment. That moment, though. Hel's biggest struggle was still pulling away from that moment. It didn't need to make sense anymore than an outlet for Aurelien's rage needed to, it was pure impulse. Just, y'know, in opposite directions. That kinda made them connect with where he was, at least as far as they understood it. He was trying to force it. There was a deep need to hurt something in him and he wanted to make it reasonable. To be honest if they couldn't connect from their own experiences they could absolutely connect from Axel's, who didn't really bother with that last step most of the time. Kinda made Hel wonder how the two of them held off the fistfights long enough to hook up. Seeing that famous temper here in front of them made them realize how alike they were.
There it was, their hook back into reality. Aurelien was in pain that hurting all of them wouldn't solve, pain Hel could empathize with on levels Jackson and Arianna weren't right now. Hel didn't draw their weapon when they stepped out from behind Arianna with their hands up. "Aurelien," they started cautiously, "where do you think you are?"
Something he said stood out more than all the threads. 'The announcements have just played.' They hadn't, though. That had been...fuck, hours ago. It hadn't been raining yet. They'd barely been awake. Time was a hell of a thing to pin down, though. They thought about the night they broke up with Kara. It'd been a few weeks and they still couldn't contextualize a second of it before Axe showed up and dragged them back to their body. They remembered planning to have the conversation right after school, but it had been dark a long time when he showed up. It felt like they argued with her for hours, but they knew that wasn't true. They didn't have the strength to tell her no for that long. The conversation had been short, no more than ten minutes, and then what must have been hours of drifting through space, but they couldn't distinguish the moment they shut off their phone from when Axel had climbed into their room.
Aurelien was a stronger person than they were, and absolutely a better one too because hey, not a high bar to clear. A stupid guilty break-up wouldn't be enough to send him off to the place they'd been. Knowing everything they did about him though, they could believe that he hadn't really lived in a single second since he'd heard Dante's name this morning.
"The announcements were hours ago, man. She's cold."
Gods, what a load of shit. No, don't say it, they got it. It was idealization. Nothing useful was gonna come out of them dying like that and they weren't going to, they didn't believe all of it outside of the moment. That moment, though. Hel's biggest struggle was still pulling away from that moment. It didn't need to make sense anymore than an outlet for Aurelien's rage needed to, it was pure impulse. Just, y'know, in opposite directions. That kinda made them connect with where he was, at least as far as they understood it. He was trying to force it. There was a deep need to hurt something in him and he wanted to make it reasonable. To be honest if they couldn't connect from their own experiences they could absolutely connect from Axel's, who didn't really bother with that last step most of the time. Kinda made Hel wonder how the two of them held off the fistfights long enough to hook up. Seeing that famous temper here in front of them made them realize how alike they were.
There it was, their hook back into reality. Aurelien was in pain that hurting all of them wouldn't solve, pain Hel could empathize with on levels Jackson and Arianna weren't right now. Hel didn't draw their weapon when they stepped out from behind Arianna with their hands up. "Aurelien," they started cautiously, "where do you think you are?"
Something he said stood out more than all the threads. 'The announcements have just played.' They hadn't, though. That had been...fuck, hours ago. It hadn't been raining yet. They'd barely been awake. Time was a hell of a thing to pin down, though. They thought about the night they broke up with Kara. It'd been a few weeks and they still couldn't contextualize a second of it before Axe showed up and dragged them back to their body. They remembered planning to have the conversation right after school, but it had been dark a long time when he showed up. It felt like they argued with her for hours, but they knew that wasn't true. They didn't have the strength to tell her no for that long. The conversation had been short, no more than ten minutes, and then what must have been hours of drifting through space, but they couldn't distinguish the moment they shut off their phone from when Axel had climbed into their room.
Aurelien was a stronger person than they were, and absolutely a better one too because hey, not a high bar to clear. A stupid guilty break-up wouldn't be enough to send him off to the place they'd been. Knowing everything they did about him though, they could believe that he hadn't really lived in a single second since he'd heard Dante's name this morning.
"The announcements were hours ago, man. She's cold."
The second Aurelien had taken the last step towards them, Ariana had raised her weapon. Not all the way, mind you, but enough that were it to discharge, the very real possibility existed that said discharge would do more than just make a loud noise. Everyone else made their case around the same time, Jackson sounding frantic and worried, Hel oddly detached and diplomatic. She knew she should probably say something, put the gun down and step back. But the big spiked mace and the fury in Aurelien's eyes informed her that nothing of the sort would happen. She should have said something kind, something understanding of his fragile emotional state. Dante's death had touched all of them, him more than all by the looks of him.
And yet - he'd snarled back at their protestations with the stubbornness of someone who didn't care what the words truly were. Someone had hurt him, had destroyed that whom he was closest to, and now his boiling blood demanded that someone had to pay. Poor Sapphire was an excuse, an easy reason to supply reparations to those who were ignorant of the circumstances behind it all. Her mind flashed back to the day before, when Marceline had accused her of being a danger to others with the way she handled her weapon. Fuck that; if others were going to be a danger to her, she was going to protect herself.
"They're right, my gun doesn't fucking shoot swords," Ariana snarled with a bit more ferocity than she'd intended. Exhaling, she toned herself down.
"Sorry. Hel's right. We just found her like this. Like you said, she wasn't on the announcements, so we've been trying to figure out just what the fuck happened!"
Still eyeing the spiked mace, Ariana just couldn't find it within herself to lower her weapon.
"Look, Aurelien. We all know you're hurting. I can't imagine what kind of rage you have going on. But I need you to lower the mace. Standing next to Sapphire here is putting us all into a fucked-up kind of headspace and I really, really, really don't want to," Ariana's loud, steady voice cracked, "shoot you."
Ariana gritted her teeth to try and repel the tears that she suddenly felt welling up. This was overwhelming. The grief, the anger, the sorrow - all of it.
"Please," she urged. "Come over here and help us take care of her."
And yet - he'd snarled back at their protestations with the stubbornness of someone who didn't care what the words truly were. Someone had hurt him, had destroyed that whom he was closest to, and now his boiling blood demanded that someone had to pay. Poor Sapphire was an excuse, an easy reason to supply reparations to those who were ignorant of the circumstances behind it all. Her mind flashed back to the day before, when Marceline had accused her of being a danger to others with the way she handled her weapon. Fuck that; if others were going to be a danger to her, she was going to protect herself.
"They're right, my gun doesn't fucking shoot swords," Ariana snarled with a bit more ferocity than she'd intended. Exhaling, she toned herself down.
"Sorry. Hel's right. We just found her like this. Like you said, she wasn't on the announcements, so we've been trying to figure out just what the fuck happened!"
Still eyeing the spiked mace, Ariana just couldn't find it within herself to lower her weapon.
"Look, Aurelien. We all know you're hurting. I can't imagine what kind of rage you have going on. But I need you to lower the mace. Standing next to Sapphire here is putting us all into a fucked-up kind of headspace and I really, really, really don't want to," Ariana's loud, steady voice cracked, "shoot you."
Ariana gritted her teeth to try and repel the tears that she suddenly felt welling up. This was overwhelming. The grief, the anger, the sorrow - all of it.
"Please," she urged. "Come over here and help us take care of her."
Even with the gun raised and aimed more towards him, Aurelien was still prepared to keep moving forwards.
He dared Ariana to shoot him. Just try it. Just see what would happen. If she was shooting to scare him, tough luck, because he wasn’t feeling any fear at all right now. If she was shooting to injure or wound, he’d push through it. If she was shooting to kill… well, he’d die with blood and spit on his lips and the knowledge that he was fucking right all along.
But there was more than just the aiming of a firearm. There were words, and there were actions, and they crashed against Aurelien like waves against a cliff, slowly but surely eroding him down. Ariana and Jackson both said the same thing, the former trying her best to stay level and calm, the latter as far from that point as possible; there was a gash in Sapphire’s body, from a blade, not a gun. He could see the wound clearly now, clear as day, resplendent against her blue and white dress. Made no sense to kill with a knife when you had a gun in your other hand, but Hel could always have one hidden in their pocket.
Hel, though. Hel stepped forwards. Hel asked him where he was, and his brow creased at such a pointless, obvious question, all the while his mind churned and swelled and thought, and thought, and thought…
The announcements had just played.
Right?
“That doesn’t…” Aurelien spat at Ariana, voice starting to falter. “That doesn’t mean shit, you could still have a knife… or, or a sword, or… fucking something on you…”
He had found Dante in the village and then he had come straight here. It had been a short walk. No less than a few minutes. It had been raining the moment he left the house. Dante’s blood was still fresh on his jeans.
Right?
His hand swiped against his pocket, fingers pressing against the dark red stain soaked into it. They came back dry.
“I was… I was just with Dante…”
He didn’t know. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d found Dante’s body. He didn’t know how long he’d stayed there with him, didn’t know how long it’d taken him to walk down to the bay, or how long they’d been here in this standoff, or whether Ariana or Hel or even Jackson had killed Sapphire, or how she’d died, or… or…
He knew one thing. That Blaise was a murderer. Aside from that?
He didn’t know.
Aurelien turned away from the group, and with a roar of pain and fury, hurled the mace as far away from him as he could, muscles burning as the weapon turned once in the air before burying itself into the sand. He screwed his eyes shut, breathing heavily, grabbing his head with his hands.
“Fuck…”
He dared Ariana to shoot him. Just try it. Just see what would happen. If she was shooting to scare him, tough luck, because he wasn’t feeling any fear at all right now. If she was shooting to injure or wound, he’d push through it. If she was shooting to kill… well, he’d die with blood and spit on his lips and the knowledge that he was fucking right all along.
But there was more than just the aiming of a firearm. There were words, and there were actions, and they crashed against Aurelien like waves against a cliff, slowly but surely eroding him down. Ariana and Jackson both said the same thing, the former trying her best to stay level and calm, the latter as far from that point as possible; there was a gash in Sapphire’s body, from a blade, not a gun. He could see the wound clearly now, clear as day, resplendent against her blue and white dress. Made no sense to kill with a knife when you had a gun in your other hand, but Hel could always have one hidden in their pocket.
Hel, though. Hel stepped forwards. Hel asked him where he was, and his brow creased at such a pointless, obvious question, all the while his mind churned and swelled and thought, and thought, and thought…
The announcements had just played.
Right?
“That doesn’t…” Aurelien spat at Ariana, voice starting to falter. “That doesn’t mean shit, you could still have a knife… or, or a sword, or… fucking something on you…”
He had found Dante in the village and then he had come straight here. It had been a short walk. No less than a few minutes. It had been raining the moment he left the house. Dante’s blood was still fresh on his jeans.
Right?
His hand swiped against his pocket, fingers pressing against the dark red stain soaked into it. They came back dry.
“I was… I was just with Dante…”
He didn’t know. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d found Dante’s body. He didn’t know how long he’d stayed there with him, didn’t know how long it’d taken him to walk down to the bay, or how long they’d been here in this standoff, or whether Ariana or Hel or even Jackson had killed Sapphire, or how she’d died, or… or…
He knew one thing. That Blaise was a murderer. Aside from that?
He didn’t know.
Aurelien turned away from the group, and with a roar of pain and fury, hurled the mace as far away from him as he could, muscles burning as the weapon turned once in the air before burying itself into the sand. He screwed his eyes shut, breathing heavily, grabbing his head with his hands.
“Fuck…”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Aurelien was still paused, and it seemed like Jackson and Ariana’s words were sinking in just a bit. Hel, too came in and attempted to soothe the obviously enraged and not thinking Aurelien. Sapphire’s body was cold and long dead. The Announcements were hours ago, before the rain started to pelt the island, as if attempting to wash all the death away. Aurenlien seemed distraught. He wasn’t making a lot of sense, and Jackson didn't know how to help him at this point. Maybe if he could just get the weapon out of his hands they could calm him down.
Then again, Jackson didn’t exactly have a death wish. Especially not one with a ‘bludgeoned to death’ clause.
Then it all started to clear up, if only a bit. Aurelien had probably found Dante’s body. Jackson didn’t pretend to know what the specifics of Dante and Aurelien’s relationship was, but he’d seen them at prom together. He knew Aurelien was that kind of guy. Y’know, a guy who likes the company of guys. Nothing wrong with that. Dante would hit on a pencil sharpener if it had a skirt on, so it was definitely surprising. But hey, it’s none of his business who people screw. Plus, he knew full well you didn’t get a choice in who you ended up loving. It just didn't work like that. Jackson wanted to comfort the other boy. He couldn’t imagine seeing someone you loved dead in front of you.
If Luca had been here…
He was just lucky she wasn’t.
Aurelien had the right to be upset and angry. But right now they just needed him calm. Jackson made to move forward, when Aurelien let out a roar and tossed his mace to the side like he was throwing a shotput in competition. It flew from his hands, and Jackson flinched back reflexively. It landed with a thud in the sand some ways away from where they all stood, and Jackson peeked out from behind his arms he’d put up in feeble defense in the off chance Aurelien was planning on attacking him. Aurelien was obviously struggling, and Jackson did the only thing he could think of. He slowly walked up to the bigger guy and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. (He had to reach up quite a ways to do that, but he tried his best not to think about it.)
“I’m sorry about Dante.” He offered, even though he knew it sounded placating.
“Everything is fucked, man.” He looked around Aurelien at the girls, hoping for a bit of help in trying to calm the giant of a boy down enough that they could diffuse the situation fully.
Then again, Jackson didn’t exactly have a death wish. Especially not one with a ‘bludgeoned to death’ clause.
Then it all started to clear up, if only a bit. Aurelien had probably found Dante’s body. Jackson didn’t pretend to know what the specifics of Dante and Aurelien’s relationship was, but he’d seen them at prom together. He knew Aurelien was that kind of guy. Y’know, a guy who likes the company of guys. Nothing wrong with that. Dante would hit on a pencil sharpener if it had a skirt on, so it was definitely surprising. But hey, it’s none of his business who people screw. Plus, he knew full well you didn’t get a choice in who you ended up loving. It just didn't work like that. Jackson wanted to comfort the other boy. He couldn’t imagine seeing someone you loved dead in front of you.
If Luca had been here…
He was just lucky she wasn’t.
Aurelien had the right to be upset and angry. But right now they just needed him calm. Jackson made to move forward, when Aurelien let out a roar and tossed his mace to the side like he was throwing a shotput in competition. It flew from his hands, and Jackson flinched back reflexively. It landed with a thud in the sand some ways away from where they all stood, and Jackson peeked out from behind his arms he’d put up in feeble defense in the off chance Aurelien was planning on attacking him. Aurelien was obviously struggling, and Jackson did the only thing he could think of. He slowly walked up to the bigger guy and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. (He had to reach up quite a ways to do that, but he tried his best not to think about it.)
“I’m sorry about Dante.” He offered, even though he knew it sounded placating.
“Everything is fucked, man.” He looked around Aurelien at the girls, hoping for a bit of help in trying to calm the giant of a boy down enough that they could diffuse the situation fully.