To say that Evie had no idea where she was going would be inaccurate, because it would imply that she had any destination in mind. Or anything at all on her mind but pain, in fact.
[Evie McKown got stabbed during a Transmitter Failure, and ran here.]
She just wanted it to stop. If somebody had come to kill her in that moment, she couldn’t say for sure she’d even want to resist, let alone have the energy for it. All she could do was sit and hold tight to her wounded flank, and hope that eventually the willpower to do something about it would appear to her. In the mean time, Evie simply tried to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes, telling herself over and over that sobbing would just make the cut worse. How goddamn tragic was that?
In her panic, she’d run directly away from Alex Avanesian, out into the middle of nowhere. Some lizard brain instinct had steered her towards the cover of trees, at length her legs had given up, and finally she’d collapsed against a tree, shivering, shaking, studiously not inspecting her injury. Tears streaked her face, she convulsed softly, and she stared into the distance.
If she didn’t look at it, she wouldn’t have to learn how bad it was.
If she didn’t look, maybe she wasn’t already dying.
You Missed My Heart
You got me good, I knew you would, (concluded)
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Dr Adjective
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This place looked straight out of a fucking movie. And not in a good way, either. Like, in the "this place is a frozen hellscape" sorta way. Like she'd taken the wrong path to Whiteface Mountain Ski Resort and ended up in downtown Hoth.
Fuck, the sooner she found Evie, the better. She was desperate to get out of this fucking cold, but she wasn't gotta let her friend freeze and slash or bleed to death out here. The least she could do was bring her somewhere nice and warm.
S091: CLAIRE HAIG — CONTINUED FROM "Transmitter Failure"
At some point, she'd found herself at the end of the trail of blood—morbid, to be honest. She sighed. Perish the thought, but it'd have been easier to track down Evie if she'd bled a little more. God, she felt terrible even thinking that.
Still, it was the truth—as far as she could tell, the trail ran cold here, and not just literally. Claire didn't care, though. She'd find her friend and bring her somewhere safe. Even if that meant she had to keep trudging until she found a sign of life—or death.
"Hey!" she called out, right hand cupped around her mouth, "Evie, are you out here?"
She sighed. It was a rhetorical question more than anything. Generally, trails of blood didn't lie. So Evie had to be somewhere in the vicinity, give or take some distance. If she got a response, she'd head toward the noise. Pretty simple.
If not, well...
Claire wasn't quite sure what then. She'd figure it out, she supposed.
Fuck, the sooner she found Evie, the better. She was desperate to get out of this fucking cold, but she wasn't gotta let her friend freeze and slash or bleed to death out here. The least she could do was bring her somewhere nice and warm.
S091: CLAIRE HAIG — CONTINUED FROM "Transmitter Failure"
At some point, she'd found herself at the end of the trail of blood—morbid, to be honest. She sighed. Perish the thought, but it'd have been easier to track down Evie if she'd bled a little more. God, she felt terrible even thinking that.
Still, it was the truth—as far as she could tell, the trail ran cold here, and not just literally. Claire didn't care, though. She'd find her friend and bring her somewhere safe. Even if that meant she had to keep trudging until she found a sign of life—or death.
"Hey!" she called out, right hand cupped around her mouth, "Evie, are you out here?"
She sighed. It was a rhetorical question more than anything. Generally, trails of blood didn't lie. So Evie had to be somewhere in the vicinity, give or take some distance. If she got a response, she'd head toward the noise. Pretty simple.
If not, well...
Claire wasn't quite sure what then. She'd figure it out, she supposed.
- Ashlyn -
The buildings offered a marginal degree of warmth. Where there was warmth there would be corpses cooling.
Ash intended to stick to her idea of avoiding the multiple person massacres. Out here only mother nature could hold her accountable for whatever she chose to do. Though, the creeping chill in her blood was enough of a death sentence on its own. She had exactly one pair of thermal wear versus all three of her jackets. A true miracle of trip planning on her part.
She hadn't cried when she'd woken up. No screaming. A quick yawn, a quicker stretch, and then she'd immediately fled the shelter she'd woken in- so called research stations, probably of the Nazi medical experimentation variety, given the particular brand of sadism their captors dealt in.
She'd wandered since- minutes were hours, or maybe hours were minutes. Long ago she'd started to feel a certain resistance against each step forward, her muscles strong but strangely tired despite their mechanical fluency. She wanted to rest not because she needed to, but because some weak and fledgling part of her primitive mind wanted to stop. No fighting. No trying. She could lay down and accept it, and that really was the most sensible option, but fuck if Ash would take her impending death lying down. Whoever was going to make it off this island certainly did not deserve to. She hoped to leave a scar on each kidney, her parting gift to the jackass who decided their life was worth any price.
She watched the world less with eyes and more with the blocky thing clutched with all ten fingers- tense dead man's hands like it were her life preserver. Past a blind spot, a line of trees thick enough that each individual branch could've hidden a hundred assassins, two generic green dots slowly converged as they blinked at a rate slower than the heartbeat that sustained life. Even the machines didn't think highly of her classmate's vitality, she guessed.
Somewhere between, another dot. Unmoving.
She leerily eyed the unknown, painted onto the canvass of unspoiled nature around her like hidden messages in the art, yet to be decoded. She'd seen a spot or two of blood a bit ago, and now the trail was starting to form. She couldn't tell if the deep red seeping into white was fresh or not, but it did lead towards the converging pair of dots.
Someone called out, a voice she couldn't tell the gender, age, or hostility of, all lost to the gentle howl of the wind.
She had nothing else to do. If they needed her help, she could offer. If they needed her dead, they could bite her. She began to approach, observing how her own collar's position never moved as all the others began to close in on her, wraiths from the winter wonderland, attracted to her still burning blood.
The buildings offered a marginal degree of warmth. Where there was warmth there would be corpses cooling.
Ash intended to stick to her idea of avoiding the multiple person massacres. Out here only mother nature could hold her accountable for whatever she chose to do. Though, the creeping chill in her blood was enough of a death sentence on its own. She had exactly one pair of thermal wear versus all three of her jackets. A true miracle of trip planning on her part.
She hadn't cried when she'd woken up. No screaming. A quick yawn, a quicker stretch, and then she'd immediately fled the shelter she'd woken in- so called research stations, probably of the Nazi medical experimentation variety, given the particular brand of sadism their captors dealt in.
She'd wandered since- minutes were hours, or maybe hours were minutes. Long ago she'd started to feel a certain resistance against each step forward, her muscles strong but strangely tired despite their mechanical fluency. She wanted to rest not because she needed to, but because some weak and fledgling part of her primitive mind wanted to stop. No fighting. No trying. She could lay down and accept it, and that really was the most sensible option, but fuck if Ash would take her impending death lying down. Whoever was going to make it off this island certainly did not deserve to. She hoped to leave a scar on each kidney, her parting gift to the jackass who decided their life was worth any price.
She watched the world less with eyes and more with the blocky thing clutched with all ten fingers- tense dead man's hands like it were her life preserver. Past a blind spot, a line of trees thick enough that each individual branch could've hidden a hundred assassins, two generic green dots slowly converged as they blinked at a rate slower than the heartbeat that sustained life. Even the machines didn't think highly of her classmate's vitality, she guessed.
Somewhere between, another dot. Unmoving.
She leerily eyed the unknown, painted onto the canvass of unspoiled nature around her like hidden messages in the art, yet to be decoded. She'd seen a spot or two of blood a bit ago, and now the trail was starting to form. She couldn't tell if the deep red seeping into white was fresh or not, but it did lead towards the converging pair of dots.
Someone called out, a voice she couldn't tell the gender, age, or hostility of, all lost to the gentle howl of the wind.
She had nothing else to do. If they needed her help, she could offer. If they needed her dead, they could bite her. She began to approach, observing how her own collar's position never moved as all the others began to close in on her, wraiths from the winter wonderland, attracted to her still burning blood.
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Dr Adjective
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It was starting to get cold. That realisation snapped Evie out of her distracted funk for a moment, her knowledge of first aid suggesting to her that turning cold could be a very, very bad sign. She realised fairly quickly that it was just the weather and not extreme loss of blood, but the wake up call was still valuable: it gave her the indication to actually look at her injury.
The bleeding hadn’t stopped exactly, but it had slowed significantly. Good sign. Her hands weren’t cold from lack of blood in them, just a lack of it on them.
She bit her lip. Swallowed. Gently pulled at her shirt.
Hey!
It had just started to peel away from the sticky, bloody mess when Evie heard a voice in the near distance. A familiar one. She grit her teeth and finished detaching shirt from skin before replying.
Evie, are you out here?
Her first reply was a pained grunt. She knew she should’ve looked in her first aid kit for scissors and cut around the injury, but even if she’d felt up to rummaging in her pack to begin with, she didn’t like the idea of exposing herself to even more cold. Kind of a lose-lose proposition.
“Yeah!” she eventually managed to call out.
Evie had donated blood before, so the nausea that was beginning to set in was at least a familiar sensation. She didn’t remember exactly how much doctors usually took, but it was definitely a bit below the safe zone before complications were likely. So, she reasoned, if the feeling was similar, she must’ve lost a similar, therefore safe, amount of blood? Hopefully. It was a comforting thought, despite the mounting desire to vomit.
“Yeah, still alive over here!” she added, a bit louder this time.
The bleeding hadn’t stopped exactly, but it had slowed significantly. Good sign. Her hands weren’t cold from lack of blood in them, just a lack of it on them.
She bit her lip. Swallowed. Gently pulled at her shirt.
Hey!
It had just started to peel away from the sticky, bloody mess when Evie heard a voice in the near distance. A familiar one. She grit her teeth and finished detaching shirt from skin before replying.
Evie, are you out here?
Her first reply was a pained grunt. She knew she should’ve looked in her first aid kit for scissors and cut around the injury, but even if she’d felt up to rummaging in her pack to begin with, she didn’t like the idea of exposing herself to even more cold. Kind of a lose-lose proposition.
“Yeah!” she eventually managed to call out.
Evie had donated blood before, so the nausea that was beginning to set in was at least a familiar sensation. She didn’t remember exactly how much doctors usually took, but it was definitely a bit below the safe zone before complications were likely. So, she reasoned, if the feeling was similar, she must’ve lost a similar, therefore safe, amount of blood? Hopefully. It was a comforting thought, despite the mounting desire to vomit.
“Yeah, still alive over here!” she added, a bit louder this time.
There was a pile of wrapped packages in Kai's room. Paper in gold and green and pink and red. Cards half-written sorting out what was for whom.
Kitty was getting a scarf. The extra-long kind with pockets on the end for her to slip her hands into. Thick, soft pink yarn with white pawprints on the pockets. He'd spent hours searching for the right pattern.
Ren was getting gloves. They were small, and they'd said something once about how embarrassing it was to sometimes have to shop in the kids' section for things like that. Making things by hand solved that problem. Dark gray, so the color wouldn't fade so much with wear.
Aunt Letty was getting an apron. Red with white frill trim. Sturdy material that would stand heat and stains. Not handmade, but still carefully selected.
Uncle Emilio was getting baseball tickets. Kai only cared a little about baseball, but his uncle wanted to do something just adjacent to father-son bonding. He'd saved up his paychecks for months.
His mom was also getting a scarf. Mint green and white. Green was her favorite color. He didn't know when he'd get to give it to her, but he intended to look her in the eye when he did.
He hadn't decided on a present for his dad yet. Didn't know what to get the man who seemed to have little and want little.
He hadn't decided it if would be weird to get Cali a gift. He'd thought about making her a knit cap, since she usually wore one. He'd seen some yarn threaded with gold, similar to the vest she also liked to wear. He was still thinking about it.
Still thinking about it, even while he watched what was unfolding below.
S035 KAI ROSADO-PRINCE: START
If anyone on the ground had bothered to look up, they might have caught a glimpse of blue canvas up among the dark green and brown of a pine tree. Higher still and harder to see was Kai's form hunched among the branches. A few feet above where he'd wedged the umbrella, he crouched like a huge mistake of a blackbird.
He didn't have a name for the thing that had driven him to climb. It was more instinct than conscious thought, at least. The same instinct that made you want to burrow or dive in search of safety. Shove everything you own now up into the branches and climb. Climb until you are sure nobody can reach you. Until you're invisible, because people really don't tend to look above the horizon as much as they should.
It wasn't that Kai didn't feel anything, watching Evie stagger and eventually collapse. It was more like he'd frozen in place. If he tried to unclench his hands from the branches he was holding onto for stability now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to. She was bleeding, but he couldn't tell how badly.
Someone was chasing her. Calling out. She answered, so it must not have been the person who hurt her. If that had been someone other than herself in the first place. Kai's mind had been buzzing constantly since he woke up with thoughts like that. People hurting each other and hurting themselves. What else was he supposed to think about right now?
The Christmas presents sitting cozily in his bedroom, never to be finished or delivered, apparently. What a thing to have on his mind while he might be watching someone die.
Movement from another direction caught his eye. He knew who it was from the way his jaw tightened before his eyes even fully registered her. (The distance and the direction of her trail made it clear that Ash wasn't the person who had hurt Evie. That was just Kai's natural response to Ash.)
He watched Ash and the other girl approach Evie from opposite directions like wolves closing in for the kill, and he tried to remember which of his Christmas cards he had signed "Love, Kai" instead of "From, Kai."
Kitty was getting a scarf. The extra-long kind with pockets on the end for her to slip her hands into. Thick, soft pink yarn with white pawprints on the pockets. He'd spent hours searching for the right pattern.
Ren was getting gloves. They were small, and they'd said something once about how embarrassing it was to sometimes have to shop in the kids' section for things like that. Making things by hand solved that problem. Dark gray, so the color wouldn't fade so much with wear.
Aunt Letty was getting an apron. Red with white frill trim. Sturdy material that would stand heat and stains. Not handmade, but still carefully selected.
Uncle Emilio was getting baseball tickets. Kai only cared a little about baseball, but his uncle wanted to do something just adjacent to father-son bonding. He'd saved up his paychecks for months.
His mom was also getting a scarf. Mint green and white. Green was her favorite color. He didn't know when he'd get to give it to her, but he intended to look her in the eye when he did.
He hadn't decided on a present for his dad yet. Didn't know what to get the man who seemed to have little and want little.
He hadn't decided it if would be weird to get Cali a gift. He'd thought about making her a knit cap, since she usually wore one. He'd seen some yarn threaded with gold, similar to the vest she also liked to wear. He was still thinking about it.
Still thinking about it, even while he watched what was unfolding below.
S035 KAI ROSADO-PRINCE: START
If anyone on the ground had bothered to look up, they might have caught a glimpse of blue canvas up among the dark green and brown of a pine tree. Higher still and harder to see was Kai's form hunched among the branches. A few feet above where he'd wedged the umbrella, he crouched like a huge mistake of a blackbird.
He didn't have a name for the thing that had driven him to climb. It was more instinct than conscious thought, at least. The same instinct that made you want to burrow or dive in search of safety. Shove everything you own now up into the branches and climb. Climb until you are sure nobody can reach you. Until you're invisible, because people really don't tend to look above the horizon as much as they should.
It wasn't that Kai didn't feel anything, watching Evie stagger and eventually collapse. It was more like he'd frozen in place. If he tried to unclench his hands from the branches he was holding onto for stability now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to. She was bleeding, but he couldn't tell how badly.
Someone was chasing her. Calling out. She answered, so it must not have been the person who hurt her. If that had been someone other than herself in the first place. Kai's mind had been buzzing constantly since he woke up with thoughts like that. People hurting each other and hurting themselves. What else was he supposed to think about right now?
The Christmas presents sitting cozily in his bedroom, never to be finished or delivered, apparently. What a thing to have on his mind while he might be watching someone die.
Movement from another direction caught his eye. He knew who it was from the way his jaw tightened before his eyes even fully registered her. (The distance and the direction of her trail made it clear that Ash wasn't the person who had hurt Evie. That was just Kai's natural response to Ash.)
He watched Ash and the other girl approach Evie from opposite directions like wolves closing in for the kill, and he tried to remember which of his Christmas cards he had signed "Love, Kai" instead of "From, Kai."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
For a few moments, Claire heard nothing, and that was it. All was silent, cold as a blade's edge, thick as smog, and louder than gunshots and explosions. The world was as still as the grave. She'd always hated that absent feeling. It was tense, like staring down the end of a long, dim corridor.
Maybe it was because, for her, the silence was never quiet. Little tinny noises danced in her ears, ringing, jingling—tiny chimes and siren sounds. Tinnitus, she'd heard but never verified. For a long time, she just hadn't noticed it. Then, once she knew something was wrong, she'd never dared to talk about it to anyone.
Many such cases, it seemed.
And then a voice cut through the air. It was Evie. Okay, that was good. Alive, too. This day just got better and better. She'd completed the first objective of the quest. Still, no experience points yet. Not until she'd reached the end. Marco Polo was pretty cool, sure—the man and the game—but she didn't want to sit here and yell back and forth forever.
It made them targets. As much as Claire hated the thought, it was the truth. Neither of them had a weapon, and Evie was wounded. It didn't bode well for their chances of fighting off an ambush. And, to be honest, Claire didn't feel confident in her chances of going two-for-two against would-be killers.
So, with that in mind, Claire took her first knowing steps toward the source, cautious, quiet. There wasn't much point, but she tried nonetheless. She raised her hand back to her mouth, accidentally swiping at the cloth mask hanging from her ear like a cat playing with a leaf.
"Okay, uh," she called out, "I'm heading your way."
The snow and fallen branches crunched beneath her feet. The sound was familiar. It reminded Claire of the times she and her family would march across a local tree farm, her mom insisting on only the best. She wondered how they were holding up back home. The house would probably be pretty lonely for the holiday.
Everybody was still in mourning, after all.
Maybe it was because, for her, the silence was never quiet. Little tinny noises danced in her ears, ringing, jingling—tiny chimes and siren sounds. Tinnitus, she'd heard but never verified. For a long time, she just hadn't noticed it. Then, once she knew something was wrong, she'd never dared to talk about it to anyone.
Many such cases, it seemed.
And then a voice cut through the air. It was Evie. Okay, that was good. Alive, too. This day just got better and better. She'd completed the first objective of the quest. Still, no experience points yet. Not until she'd reached the end. Marco Polo was pretty cool, sure—the man and the game—but she didn't want to sit here and yell back and forth forever.
It made them targets. As much as Claire hated the thought, it was the truth. Neither of them had a weapon, and Evie was wounded. It didn't bode well for their chances of fighting off an ambush. And, to be honest, Claire didn't feel confident in her chances of going two-for-two against would-be killers.
So, with that in mind, Claire took her first knowing steps toward the source, cautious, quiet. There wasn't much point, but she tried nonetheless. She raised her hand back to her mouth, accidentally swiping at the cloth mask hanging from her ear like a cat playing with a leaf.
"Okay, uh," she called out, "I'm heading your way."
The snow and fallen branches crunched beneath her feet. The sound was familiar. It reminded Claire of the times she and her family would march across a local tree farm, her mom insisting on only the best. She wondered how they were holding up back home. The house would probably be pretty lonely for the holiday.
Everybody was still in mourning, after all.
Two voices sublimated into snowflakes, carried by the chill slowly forming rime over Ash's still exposed ears. Both girls, one she didn't recognize with confidence, the other that she did. Evie had been swim team, a hulk smash's worth of woman Ash had flirted with once back in a time and place where Salem could definitely see. Shot down politely, but Ash was still very much positive Evie was gayer than she let herself admit.
Ultimately more a stranger than not, a little factoid that put a name to the unseen face did not familiarity make. She sounded hurt. The soldier's hrrk of a vocal timbre- holding back agony to put on a front for as long as was possible before it spilled out in the form of bile and blood. Ash felt a wince of sympathy, the ghost of the same sort of effort she would have put in to put on her brave face.
She peeled her eyes off the screen of the radar for a moment. Her fair skin was painted with the cold electronic green, casting a deep shadow over her eyesockets as she searched the shadows of the canopy above, wicked talon branches menacing with the aura of the unknown threat watching their scene play out. Two blips on the radar had become one- the impassive trunk, wider than she was and sturdy enough for a makeshift gallows, this was the one they'd likely climbed up. Bad angle for her to catch a glimpse, but she swore she caught a hint of an artificial blue, familiarly heavy in hue like the gym mats she liked to flip people onto in her free time.
"Hey. It's Ash." Like the US military industrial complex, her voice could project where resisted and unwelcome. She passively regarded her own echo bouncing off the tree trunks standing vigilant over her.
"There's someone up in the trees watching us. I can't catch a glimpse of them but the two of you should keep an eye out."
It'd be a sticky climb without gloves, she could smell the fresh pine sap like someone had patented JEM bathroom scent for Yankee Candle. She started to round the trunk, the soft blue of her eyes hardened like beetle shells as she searched for the unknown interloper.
Ultimately more a stranger than not, a little factoid that put a name to the unseen face did not familiarity make. She sounded hurt. The soldier's hrrk of a vocal timbre- holding back agony to put on a front for as long as was possible before it spilled out in the form of bile and blood. Ash felt a wince of sympathy, the ghost of the same sort of effort she would have put in to put on her brave face.
She peeled her eyes off the screen of the radar for a moment. Her fair skin was painted with the cold electronic green, casting a deep shadow over her eyesockets as she searched the shadows of the canopy above, wicked talon branches menacing with the aura of the unknown threat watching their scene play out. Two blips on the radar had become one- the impassive trunk, wider than she was and sturdy enough for a makeshift gallows, this was the one they'd likely climbed up. Bad angle for her to catch a glimpse, but she swore she caught a hint of an artificial blue, familiarly heavy in hue like the gym mats she liked to flip people onto in her free time.
"Hey. It's Ash." Like the US military industrial complex, her voice could project where resisted and unwelcome. She passively regarded her own echo bouncing off the tree trunks standing vigilant over her.
"There's someone up in the trees watching us. I can't catch a glimpse of them but the two of you should keep an eye out."
It'd be a sticky climb without gloves, she could smell the fresh pine sap like someone had patented JEM bathroom scent for Yankee Candle. She started to round the trunk, the soft blue of her eyes hardened like beetle shells as she searched for the unknown interloper.
V8 Vibes:
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Dr Adjective
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Claire was here. Claire was coming. The attending relief raised Evie’s spirits significantly. Then another voice penetrated the stillness of the trees, far enough off that it was difficult to put a clear direction to, yet definitely close by. It was a familiar voice, but then, the population of the island was 100% wild animals and people Evie went to school with, so perhaps that should be expected?
With the other pressing issues on her mind, Evie wasn’t entirely sure she heard the other girl correctly, but it sounded like she had called herself Ash and gone on to warn her - no, them - of someone lurking up a tree. Very kind, but how did she know that without catching sight of them? Evie and Claire she presumably heard pretty clearly, but…
Well, she hasn’t wanted to look at the mess under her shirt anyway. The wounded teen shifted her hands to the bare flesh she’d since exposed to the biting morning chill, and resumed applying pressure to keep the blood in. If she didn’t look at it, she could keep believing the best case, that it was a flesh wound she’d been horribly unprepared to receive and it was the shock that made it hurt so bad, the fear and surprise that made her want to bring yesterday’s breakfast back up. It was going to be fine. Totally fine.
Ash. Ash Ash Ash. Who was she? Was she friendly? Ash…ley? Ashlyn! Ashlyn Graves. Unbelievably-hot-set-Evie’s-gay-little-heart-on-fire-and-turn-it-to-ash Ash. Kinda-messed-up-but-it-made-her-strong-and-kind Ash. Now she remembered. Her apprehension at the newcomer’s company faded a little, after all she probably wouldn’t have introduced herself if she meant harm, right? And if someone else was up a tree? Well there were three of them now, and not much Evie could do about it even if she knew their deal. So she decided she might as well allow herself to relax.
“Hi, Ash!”
Did that come off as too cheerful? Probably not what with the edge of pain to her voice, and what else was she meant to say in a situation like this anyway?
“Thanks for the heads up! We’re… uh, we’re friendly if you are, tree friend?”
With the other pressing issues on her mind, Evie wasn’t entirely sure she heard the other girl correctly, but it sounded like she had called herself Ash and gone on to warn her - no, them - of someone lurking up a tree. Very kind, but how did she know that without catching sight of them? Evie and Claire she presumably heard pretty clearly, but…
Well, she hasn’t wanted to look at the mess under her shirt anyway. The wounded teen shifted her hands to the bare flesh she’d since exposed to the biting morning chill, and resumed applying pressure to keep the blood in. If she didn’t look at it, she could keep believing the best case, that it was a flesh wound she’d been horribly unprepared to receive and it was the shock that made it hurt so bad, the fear and surprise that made her want to bring yesterday’s breakfast back up. It was going to be fine. Totally fine.
Ash. Ash Ash Ash. Who was she? Was she friendly? Ash…ley? Ashlyn! Ashlyn Graves. Unbelievably-hot-set-Evie’s-gay-little-heart-on-fire-and-turn-it-to-ash Ash. Kinda-messed-up-but-it-made-her-strong-and-kind Ash. Now she remembered. Her apprehension at the newcomer’s company faded a little, after all she probably wouldn’t have introduced herself if she meant harm, right? And if someone else was up a tree? Well there were three of them now, and not much Evie could do about it even if she knew their deal. So she decided she might as well allow herself to relax.
“Hi, Ash!”
Did that come off as too cheerful? Probably not what with the edge of pain to her voice, and what else was she meant to say in a situation like this anyway?
“Thanks for the heads up! We’re… uh, we’re friendly if you are, tree friend?”
So he'd been spotted. He'd just been able to make out the little box in Ash's hands. Something that detected him, then? He wasn't immediately sure what it would be, but she was approaching now.
Kai drew in on himself, pulling his arms and legs closer to his body. Shifting his feet on the branch he was perched upon, he let out a slow, measured breath. As Ash approached, he reached for the bag he'd wedged up in the branches nearby. Grabbed what he'd left haphazardly on top.
He held it close to his chest for a minute, as though it could warm him. Ash rounded the tree trunk, glaring up into the branches like they or he had done something to personally offend her. She had always seemed to take exception to some people just existing. Like Kitty.
As Ash stared up, searching, eyes glinting, Kai held out the crumpled beach towel and dropped it onto her face.
Kai drew in on himself, pulling his arms and legs closer to his body. Shifting his feet on the branch he was perched upon, he let out a slow, measured breath. As Ash approached, he reached for the bag he'd wedged up in the branches nearby. Grabbed what he'd left haphazardly on top.
He held it close to his chest for a minute, as though it could warm him. Ash rounded the tree trunk, glaring up into the branches like they or he had done something to personally offend her. She had always seemed to take exception to some people just existing. Like Kitty.
As Ash stared up, searching, eyes glinting, Kai held out the crumpled beach towel and dropped it onto her face.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Someone was out there.
That was a reasonable assumption. Claire had presumed that much before setting out. Any place on this god-forsaken island was likely to be occupied by someone—or, worse, something. It was terrifying. Still, you couldn't afford to be paranoid.
After all, Claire couldn't count all the times she'd accidentally blasted her teammates in Counter-Strike for turning a corner too fast and scaring her. It was a bad habit that she'd never been able to kick—part of why she'd never gotten into the game. Maybe she should be more thankful that she didn't have a gun.
Still, that assumption didn't help take the edge away, especially when another voice called out from the forest, confirming her fear. Ash—something like that, anyway—was someone Claire knew, but only in the vaguest sense. Ash was trying to help. At the very least, she didn't make herself seem like a threat—but then again, who would?
That wasn't how threats worked. If you could spot them from a mile away, then, well, they wouldn't be so threatening, would they? No. They lurked, watched, and waited, baited breaths and hidden daggers—and when they struck, they stabbed you in the back, not in the front.
Alex was an example of that. He tried to get them into a position where they couldn't fight back and then made his move. The only reason his plan backfired so miserably was simple: he lost the social game and failed to win them over. Paranoia was a potential point of failure—but a dose of suspicion could be healthy. Life-saving, even.
God, she hated having to think like that. Claire wanted, so badly, to put her faith in them—but she'd been burned by that before. It was easy to put walls up and hide behind them, assuming the apocalypse was going on outside. Doubt was easy: trust was hard. Still, Claire swallowed her misgivings—and silently prayed that they wouldn't do the same to her.
A moment of hesitation later, she stepped forward, brushing away the needles of the trees, and entered the clearing. Her heart wanted to jump at the shadows on the ground; her mind told her to grin and bear it. So she closed her eyes for a moment and plunged into the abyss.
And when they fluttered open again, she saw Evie. And for a moment, everything felt like it could turn out alright again.
That was a reasonable assumption. Claire had presumed that much before setting out. Any place on this god-forsaken island was likely to be occupied by someone—or, worse, something. It was terrifying. Still, you couldn't afford to be paranoid.
After all, Claire couldn't count all the times she'd accidentally blasted her teammates in Counter-Strike for turning a corner too fast and scaring her. It was a bad habit that she'd never been able to kick—part of why she'd never gotten into the game. Maybe she should be more thankful that she didn't have a gun.
Still, that assumption didn't help take the edge away, especially when another voice called out from the forest, confirming her fear. Ash—something like that, anyway—was someone Claire knew, but only in the vaguest sense. Ash was trying to help. At the very least, she didn't make herself seem like a threat—but then again, who would?
That wasn't how threats worked. If you could spot them from a mile away, then, well, they wouldn't be so threatening, would they? No. They lurked, watched, and waited, baited breaths and hidden daggers—and when they struck, they stabbed you in the back, not in the front.
Alex was an example of that. He tried to get them into a position where they couldn't fight back and then made his move. The only reason his plan backfired so miserably was simple: he lost the social game and failed to win them over. Paranoia was a potential point of failure—but a dose of suspicion could be healthy. Life-saving, even.
God, she hated having to think like that. Claire wanted, so badly, to put her faith in them—but she'd been burned by that before. It was easy to put walls up and hide behind them, assuming the apocalypse was going on outside. Doubt was easy: trust was hard. Still, Claire swallowed her misgivings—and silently prayed that they wouldn't do the same to her.
A moment of hesitation later, she stepped forward, brushing away the needles of the trees, and entered the clearing. Her heart wanted to jump at the shadows on the ground; her mind told her to grin and bear it. So she closed her eyes for a moment and plunged into the abyss.
And when they fluttered open again, she saw Evie. And for a moment, everything felt like it could turn out alright again.
She took particular exception to the falling object, modest velocity, unknown shape. She viscerally loathed it as one would any potential threat to life and blood, at least in the split second before she identified it as not a threat in the slightest. Still existentially aggravated enough that when she neatly sidestepped the towel as trained- dodge, do not block, any attack with unknown lethality- she casually stomped it into the ground with what was left of her momentum.
Eyes still fixed on him all the while. One of Kitty's oddly generic and nameless friends. Distinctive in a forgettable way. The sort of company Kitty kept didn't bear second thought unless they were particularly intent on being antagonistic like Ren. Ash had entertained the well-researched gut theory that none of them liked her much. Even the sister of the dude she was dating. Understandable, Ash also didn't like herself much.
"Gonna have to do better than that."
Her expression was neutral. Maybe slightly amused, teeth showing through a crooked inch over her bottom lip. It was one she'd learned from Salem, actually, very few people except him knew how to be smug with plausible deniability. Though she was still pretty sure her shit-eater of a grin was too forced- it looked more like the overbearing promise of pain and torture than a flippant middle finger. His face was cuter than hers, so that was probably part of the difference in delivery. Work in progress, ultimately, and maybe one she'd get done before their class was reduced to mulch and broken promises that had been pointless in the first place.
"Fair fight I effortlessly kill you eleven times out of ten, so next time come with something a tad more lethal." She shot him a thumbs up, then raised her voice to expand the conversation.
"It's Kai up in the trees." Nameless didn't mean she forgot the name. She just didn't care about it beyond it's scant social value as a form of address. Learned once, memorized. Most boring form of trivia, the name of people who weren't a threat to her. She called out the intel to the other two. "He just tossed his weapon at me so he's harmless if you don't mind a voyeur." Beach towel had to be his weapon- process of elimination, she didn't have one, and she figured the terrorists weren't in the business of randomized kits. Wouldn't make sense with their whole eugenics-Darwinian motif if randomization was a factor beyond the killing implement. "Figure he can hang around if he offers to keep watch while you guys get patched up or something."
She glanced down at the collar radar. Still the same amount of dots, still waiting around to die.
"If you need any supplies from my kit let me know, you two."
Prolonging the inevitable was probably a cruel mercy, but why not? They'd been good classmates once upon a time.
Eyes still fixed on him all the while. One of Kitty's oddly generic and nameless friends. Distinctive in a forgettable way. The sort of company Kitty kept didn't bear second thought unless they were particularly intent on being antagonistic like Ren. Ash had entertained the well-researched gut theory that none of them liked her much. Even the sister of the dude she was dating. Understandable, Ash also didn't like herself much.
"Gonna have to do better than that."
Her expression was neutral. Maybe slightly amused, teeth showing through a crooked inch over her bottom lip. It was one she'd learned from Salem, actually, very few people except him knew how to be smug with plausible deniability. Though she was still pretty sure her shit-eater of a grin was too forced- it looked more like the overbearing promise of pain and torture than a flippant middle finger. His face was cuter than hers, so that was probably part of the difference in delivery. Work in progress, ultimately, and maybe one she'd get done before their class was reduced to mulch and broken promises that had been pointless in the first place.
"Fair fight I effortlessly kill you eleven times out of ten, so next time come with something a tad more lethal." She shot him a thumbs up, then raised her voice to expand the conversation.
"It's Kai up in the trees." Nameless didn't mean she forgot the name. She just didn't care about it beyond it's scant social value as a form of address. Learned once, memorized. Most boring form of trivia, the name of people who weren't a threat to her. She called out the intel to the other two. "He just tossed his weapon at me so he's harmless if you don't mind a voyeur." Beach towel had to be his weapon- process of elimination, she didn't have one, and she figured the terrorists weren't in the business of randomized kits. Wouldn't make sense with their whole eugenics-Darwinian motif if randomization was a factor beyond the killing implement. "Figure he can hang around if he offers to keep watch while you guys get patched up or something."
She glanced down at the collar radar. Still the same amount of dots, still waiting around to die.
"If you need any supplies from my kit let me know, you two."
Prolonging the inevitable was probably a cruel mercy, but why not? They'd been good classmates once upon a time.
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Dr Adjective
- Posts: 427
- Joined: Mon Jul 06, 2020 8:25 pm
- Location: UK
The bitterness of the mid-morning chill was starting to bite on Evie's exposed abdomen, but as if on cue, she could also make out the telltale signs of sunrise off to the east. Not unlike the first glimmers of daybreak, the sounds of Claire's approach grew more pronounced too, and they were certainly just as welcome. Ash's reassurance was more of a mixed bag: she sure seemed to be offering help and companionship, but she didn't really know Kai too well, and what was he doing up a tree, and why hadn't Ash specified what the weapon he tossed down actually was? It made Evie feel uneasy. Or maybe that was just her unsettled stomach?
Still, sharing first aid supplies sounded appealing. An altruistic instinct told Evie that she shouldn't be greedy and deprive the others of stuff that might save their lives later on, but a large cut on her side and the fear of more like it shut that instinct up fairly rapidly. Besides, Ash offered first, wouldn't it be rude to refuse?
"Might be helpful!" she responded, as ever with not-inconsiderable strain. Sitting still wasn't helping the cold any, and the sooner she could cover up again, the better. How long did it take to locate somebody by voice anyway? In happier times she might've sarcastically told Claire to come along in her own time, no hurry. But alienating someone willing to perform first aid on her seemed like an extraordinarily bad move, all told. So the injured girl stuck with useful comments instead.
"Either of you know any first aid? I do, but," she had to stop there, bite back a grunt of pain.
"It's little bit harder to do on yourself, you know?"
Even so, with the promise of help on the horizon, it seemed less daunting to at least take a look and diagnose. Evie willed herself to finally look down. Ouch. Naturally, it was hard to get a good sense of the wound when the surrounding area was so bloody, but ultimately it didn't seem to be a deep wound, just a long and jagged one. No sign of bone or deep skin tissue, at least. Should be reasonably simple to clean, sterilise, and dress. Hopefully. Hopefully wouldn't need stiches. Even so, she didn't relish the thought of rubbing alcohol on her injury, so by the time Claire did come upon her, Evie was trying to shrug her bag off of her shoulder in hopes of finding something she could bite down on.
Still, sharing first aid supplies sounded appealing. An altruistic instinct told Evie that she shouldn't be greedy and deprive the others of stuff that might save their lives later on, but a large cut on her side and the fear of more like it shut that instinct up fairly rapidly. Besides, Ash offered first, wouldn't it be rude to refuse?
"Might be helpful!" she responded, as ever with not-inconsiderable strain. Sitting still wasn't helping the cold any, and the sooner she could cover up again, the better. How long did it take to locate somebody by voice anyway? In happier times she might've sarcastically told Claire to come along in her own time, no hurry. But alienating someone willing to perform first aid on her seemed like an extraordinarily bad move, all told. So the injured girl stuck with useful comments instead.
"Either of you know any first aid? I do, but," she had to stop there, bite back a grunt of pain.
"It's little bit harder to do on yourself, you know?"
Even so, with the promise of help on the horizon, it seemed less daunting to at least take a look and diagnose. Evie willed herself to finally look down. Ouch. Naturally, it was hard to get a good sense of the wound when the surrounding area was so bloody, but ultimately it didn't seem to be a deep wound, just a long and jagged one. No sign of bone or deep skin tissue, at least. Should be reasonably simple to clean, sterilise, and dress. Hopefully. Hopefully wouldn't need stiches. Even so, she didn't relish the thought of rubbing alcohol on her injury, so by the time Claire did come upon her, Evie was trying to shrug her bag off of her shoulder in hopes of finding something she could bite down on.
Ashlyn's taunt was met with a derisive snort and the rustle of branches as Kai ascended another foot up the tree. "You know how to fight fair?" He spoke for the first time, letting his voice filter down through the foliage rather than raising his voice to reach her. It probably didn't make much difference to either of them if it did.
There was a thought, as brief as it was unpleasant and stupid, of just what he would have done if he did have something more lethal on hand. If he'd had a gun in hand, he wouldn't have shot Ash, obviously. But there was something small, angry, and mean in the back of his mind that told him he might have shot in her general direction. Shake that irritating bravado a bit. She deserved that much. He'd always gotten the impression she didn't care about anything other than appearing cool and superior. It was a bit pathetic in its own way.
From his vantage point, he could see that nobody else was approaching for now. Whoever had attacked Evie hadn't pursued her. Or maybe she'd managed to put an end to them before running off. That thought did finally stir some real unease in Kai. It was the vague kind of unease where you knew something was wrong, but you couldn't do anything about it. He exhaled slowly through his teeth, watching his breath mist among the tree's nettles.
He thought for a moment about reversing direction back down the tree and trying to shake the oversized umbrella onto Ash's head now that she had decided the beach towel was all he had. Dismissed that thought too. Or at least put a pin in it for later.
"Nobody nearby," he called down, now raising his voice slightly so that it might be heard by Evie and Claire.
There was a thought, as brief as it was unpleasant and stupid, of just what he would have done if he did have something more lethal on hand. If he'd had a gun in hand, he wouldn't have shot Ash, obviously. But there was something small, angry, and mean in the back of his mind that told him he might have shot in her general direction. Shake that irritating bravado a bit. She deserved that much. He'd always gotten the impression she didn't care about anything other than appearing cool and superior. It was a bit pathetic in its own way.
From his vantage point, he could see that nobody else was approaching for now. Whoever had attacked Evie hadn't pursued her. Or maybe she'd managed to put an end to them before running off. That thought did finally stir some real unease in Kai. It was the vague kind of unease where you knew something was wrong, but you couldn't do anything about it. He exhaled slowly through his teeth, watching his breath mist among the tree's nettles.
He thought for a moment about reversing direction back down the tree and trying to shake the oversized umbrella onto Ash's head now that she had decided the beach towel was all he had. Dismissed that thought too. Or at least put a pin in it for later.
"Nobody nearby," he called down, now raising his voice slightly so that it might be heard by Evie and Claire.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Claire watched as the sparkling daylight pierced through the trees, specs of gold shimmering on the snow, dancing in the shadows. The scenery looked as fragile as glass and as picture-perfect as can be. As if crafted with precision, carefully cropped, and edited until everything looked just right. It was almost dream-like, even though they were living a waking nightmare.
This island was hell—of that, Claire could be sure. At the very least, though, a small and meaningless part of her could find any amount of joy. She hesitated to repeat her oh-so-frequent refrain, however. It was already starting to lose meaning. There were more important things to think about than the passions of a hobbyist graphic designer.
Like, you know, literally everything else that had happened just now. Kai—it was a name that held no meaning to her. Then again, that could apply to most of her peers. How many of their names could she recall without resorting to a list? Not many, probably. She wasn't exactly a social butterfly, even on the best of days.
Evie knew more of their names, probably. People in school generally liked her, right? That meant that if it had been a lie—if there was no Kai in their class—Evie would probably know enough to question it. So, when no further comment on that subject arose, Claire made the following assumption: yes, there was a person named Kai in their class.
Indeed, this was an unparalleled feat of basic logic.
Then, an offer of medical supplies. That was very cool and good—Claire would gladly have any of those she could get her hands on right now, thank you kindly. A girl in the area needed that right now, and to alleviate the mystery of who, Claire would offer you this: her name was four letters long and started with E-V-I-E.
"Yeah, uh," she just called back, sitting down near Evie, "um, that'd be nice of you!"
She specifically did not say that Ash was not required to do so. The thought came to her—her first response to offers of generosity was to refuse them instinctively. Still, she had enough sense in her to avoid blurting that out. Her head wasn't empty—some thoughts were rattling around in there.
Her current thoughts were not profound, but she could think. Right now, that brainpower had become amplified and concentrated, like sun rays through a magnifying glass. Her thoughts were largely incomprehensible—just Claire's garbled internal screaming at an upcoming predicament—but largely unified.
Claire, at the moment, was coming to grips with the idea of performing emergency first-aid on a close friend with absolutely no experience in anything medical. She would be required, probably, to clean and dress a wound, which may have been pretty serious. It was hard even responding.
"Um—ah, I—" she sputtered, trying—and mostly failing—to form a coherent response, "I can try. I'm—can you walk me through it?"
This situation was stressful, but that was her cross to bear now. She needed to do something useful and step up. Claire wanted to help. She didn't know how, but she wanted to do whatever she could. So, she took a deep breath and got ready to do her best.
"Um—Evie, uh," she murmured, rummaging through her bag for any necessary provisions, "it might help if you held onto something. It—it'll help it hurt less."
At that moment, she had tuned out everything outside of them. Claire thought of all the times she'd gotten a shot or had her blood drawn for testing. It always hurt—sometimes, she reacted badly and would be as sick as a dog for days. But during the shot itself, holding tightly onto something alleviated the worst of the pain.
If it helped make this feel even a little less terrible, then, no matter what, she could say she tried.
This island was hell—of that, Claire could be sure. At the very least, though, a small and meaningless part of her could find any amount of joy. She hesitated to repeat her oh-so-frequent refrain, however. It was already starting to lose meaning. There were more important things to think about than the passions of a hobbyist graphic designer.
Like, you know, literally everything else that had happened just now. Kai—it was a name that held no meaning to her. Then again, that could apply to most of her peers. How many of their names could she recall without resorting to a list? Not many, probably. She wasn't exactly a social butterfly, even on the best of days.
Evie knew more of their names, probably. People in school generally liked her, right? That meant that if it had been a lie—if there was no Kai in their class—Evie would probably know enough to question it. So, when no further comment on that subject arose, Claire made the following assumption: yes, there was a person named Kai in their class.
Indeed, this was an unparalleled feat of basic logic.
Then, an offer of medical supplies. That was very cool and good—Claire would gladly have any of those she could get her hands on right now, thank you kindly. A girl in the area needed that right now, and to alleviate the mystery of who, Claire would offer you this: her name was four letters long and started with E-V-I-E.
"Yeah, uh," she just called back, sitting down near Evie, "um, that'd be nice of you!"
She specifically did not say that Ash was not required to do so. The thought came to her—her first response to offers of generosity was to refuse them instinctively. Still, she had enough sense in her to avoid blurting that out. Her head wasn't empty—some thoughts were rattling around in there.
Her current thoughts were not profound, but she could think. Right now, that brainpower had become amplified and concentrated, like sun rays through a magnifying glass. Her thoughts were largely incomprehensible—just Claire's garbled internal screaming at an upcoming predicament—but largely unified.
Claire, at the moment, was coming to grips with the idea of performing emergency first-aid on a close friend with absolutely no experience in anything medical. She would be required, probably, to clean and dress a wound, which may have been pretty serious. It was hard even responding.
"Um—ah, I—" she sputtered, trying—and mostly failing—to form a coherent response, "I can try. I'm—can you walk me through it?"
This situation was stressful, but that was her cross to bear now. She needed to do something useful and step up. Claire wanted to help. She didn't know how, but she wanted to do whatever she could. So, she took a deep breath and got ready to do her best.
"Um—Evie, uh," she murmured, rummaging through her bag for any necessary provisions, "it might help if you held onto something. It—it'll help it hurt less."
At that moment, she had tuned out everything outside of them. Claire thought of all the times she'd gotten a shot or had her blood drawn for testing. It always hurt—sometimes, she reacted badly and would be as sick as a dog for days. But during the shot itself, holding tightly onto something alleviated the worst of the pain.
If it helped make this feel even a little less terrible, then, no matter what, she could say she tried.
"You know how to fight fair?"
Of all the things he'd said that was the one closest to offending her.
She abandoned him, the last thoughts of his face consigned to a lonely death, half buried in the ice. Vaguely recognizable, not particularly humanoid, like green boots at Everest's summit.
The others were calling out. Their statements weren't particularly assertive. For a moment Ash contemplated the specific proportion of aid she could offer. She was trained in rudimentary first aid by dint of being a former team captain. Sports injuries, she could handle, gunshots and stab wounds were a good deal less likely. JEM had often struggled to get bodies onto the bleachers during game times, but it had at least always promised a referee and medical team on standby.
The straightforward conclusion was that Ash wouldn't be able to offer much in the way of help. She could divvy up the medical supplies needed for her to be able to ineffectually try to patch herself up when Lader or whoever tried to take a chunk out of her with the innocent whistling of a sword.
They hadn't explicitly asked. For a moment there was a turn in her stomach, laundry drum tumbling halfway, sputtering. The load was burnt, cotton and polyester smelling distinctly like a pyre for the dead. She was at least partially sure she didn't want to do this.
Ash realized, in that moment, that she was better at smothering her empathy when nobody expected anything of her. The nerves in her abdomen went cold, reaching equilibrium with her surroundings.
She nodded wordlessly at Kai as she turned tail and left. You win. He'd probably been expecting it. So began her living up to expectations.
- Elsewhere -
Of all the things he'd said that was the one closest to offending her.
She abandoned him, the last thoughts of his face consigned to a lonely death, half buried in the ice. Vaguely recognizable, not particularly humanoid, like green boots at Everest's summit.
The others were calling out. Their statements weren't particularly assertive. For a moment Ash contemplated the specific proportion of aid she could offer. She was trained in rudimentary first aid by dint of being a former team captain. Sports injuries, she could handle, gunshots and stab wounds were a good deal less likely. JEM had often struggled to get bodies onto the bleachers during game times, but it had at least always promised a referee and medical team on standby.
The straightforward conclusion was that Ash wouldn't be able to offer much in the way of help. She could divvy up the medical supplies needed for her to be able to ineffectually try to patch herself up when Lader or whoever tried to take a chunk out of her with the innocent whistling of a sword.
They hadn't explicitly asked. For a moment there was a turn in her stomach, laundry drum tumbling halfway, sputtering. The load was burnt, cotton and polyester smelling distinctly like a pyre for the dead. She was at least partially sure she didn't want to do this.
Ash realized, in that moment, that she was better at smothering her empathy when nobody expected anything of her. The nerves in her abdomen went cold, reaching equilibrium with her surroundings.
She nodded wordlessly at Kai as she turned tail and left. You win. He'd probably been expecting it. So began her living up to expectations.
- Elsewhere -
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