Quentin's hearing had recovered just enough for him to make out another bang from behind him, which instinctively made him jolt up and try to run away. He made it one step before the pain in his ankle made drop back into the snow.
Shit. What if it was broken? Then he'd be fucked. No, he was probably fucked anyway. Trapped on a frozen island with a hundred crazies with weapons. Bits of ice and snow clung to his face and hands, and Quentin dragged himself further away from the graveyard mess, and into the next.
((Quentin B. Skinner continued elsewhere))
I Make Mad Films. ‘Kay I Don’t Make Films, but if I Did They’d Have a Samurai.
Open
''...Sure,'' she muttered, with a bleary smile.
Everything else was going on, but she wasn't paying much attention to it. It just... was A Lot, you know?
Dread and something oddly like anticipation curled up in her gut. Or maybe it was just the pain. Anyways, it was odd. She wasn't sure of Mystery Person, whose name she did not know, was anyone that she could trust, but someone who didn't try to kill her was better than the other two, right?
And being alone was scary. It needed a terrifying amount of self reliance that she was incapable of, and stability that she didn't have. She couldn't trust herself to not make stupid mistakes or zone out. She hated that feeling, of not being enough, of hopelessness, and as much as she liked to call herself independent the truth was that she was very much relying on her parents as a structural support of her toppling life, living under their roof, eating their food, following their schedules. She still felt like a child, and not in a good way, and having the mystery person talk to her like that made her feel kind of the same way. Grateful, but slightly patronized, but not enough to override any of that gratefulness.
Around her, things kept on happening. But she didn't want to care about that. She wanted to retreat inside her own head again. It felt good, having total control, even in her imagination.
''Thanks.''
Everything else was going on, but she wasn't paying much attention to it. It just... was A Lot, you know?
Dread and something oddly like anticipation curled up in her gut. Or maybe it was just the pain. Anyways, it was odd. She wasn't sure of Mystery Person, whose name she did not know, was anyone that she could trust, but someone who didn't try to kill her was better than the other two, right?
And being alone was scary. It needed a terrifying amount of self reliance that she was incapable of, and stability that she didn't have. She couldn't trust herself to not make stupid mistakes or zone out. She hated that feeling, of not being enough, of hopelessness, and as much as she liked to call herself independent the truth was that she was very much relying on her parents as a structural support of her toppling life, living under their roof, eating their food, following their schedules. She still felt like a child, and not in a good way, and having the mystery person talk to her like that made her feel kind of the same way. Grateful, but slightly patronized, but not enough to override any of that gratefulness.
Around her, things kept on happening. But she didn't want to care about that. She wanted to retreat inside her own head again. It felt good, having total control, even in her imagination.
''Thanks.''
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
"It's..."
no problem? Uh. Well...
all good? No, not really that either.
what anyone would have done? Well no, cause anyone had shot her in the first place.
Pause.
"You're welcome."
Nailed it.
Hector had just snarled at them (again? Prii had got all caught up with their friend here so they had sort of missed it), but their priority was the person who got shot. Now they could spare a second for Hector.
"What is it?"
no problem? Uh. Well...
all good? No, not really that either.
what anyone would have done? Well no, cause anyone had shot her in the first place.
Pause.
"You're welcome."
Nailed it.
Hector had just snarled at them (again? Prii had got all caught up with their friend here so they had sort of missed it), but their priority was the person who got shot. Now they could spare a second for Hector.
"What is it?"
-
Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2720
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Hector didn't appreciate being an afterthought. He also wasn't too fond of the thump against the lid, just enough muscle behind it to upset his balance. His best relationship in this place was deteriorating fast.
He'd intended to interrogate. How did the girl shrug off those gunshots? Who was she? Who did she think she was? But he could tell now that he wouldn't get anywhere with it.
Skinny had decided that the girl was worth clinging to. Fatty had made the smarter move and scuttled away. Hector's resentment bubbled and seethed. He was no closer to them than he'd ever been, but he felt like he could cross the space in a few quick strides and lash out.
His words made the jump before his body could get any ideas.
"Nothing," he said, producing his least sincere smile and a quick shrug.
"Just, keep an eye on your stuff."
Fat squished between fingers.
"Untrustworthy people around."
He'd intended to interrogate. How did the girl shrug off those gunshots? Who was she? Who did she think she was? But he could tell now that he wouldn't get anywhere with it.
Skinny had decided that the girl was worth clinging to. Fatty had made the smarter move and scuttled away. Hector's resentment bubbled and seethed. He was no closer to them than he'd ever been, but he felt like he could cross the space in a few quick strides and lash out.
His words made the jump before his body could get any ideas.
"Nothing," he said, producing his least sincere smile and a quick shrug.
"Just, keep an eye on your stuff."
Fat squished between fingers.
"Untrustworthy people around."
I bid you all dark greetings!
As things seemed to finally calm down in the graveyard, the coffin fell silent once more. The aggressor had fled, the potential allies seemed to be on good terms, the stomping had ended, and said stomper even seemed to have calmed down entirely.
Seemed like a good time for the coffin's inhabitant to make their way out, yeah?
"..."
Instead, the coffin made no pleas to be opened. No further shakes or shrieks. No bumps against the lid. Not even a word to say for itself.
Maybe the inhabitant no longer desired freedom, now knowing that the surrounding reality was more hazardous than they remembered.
Perhaps that last slam was the last act of a dying creature, now starved for air, and the coffin had fulfilled its purpose once more.
Or it could be that the person inside thought everyone outside was crazy and/or too dangerous to be around, and staying in a place meant for dead people was the best decision for once.
Whatever the case, the coffin would not provide any answers.
Dead men tell no tales, after all. Why would their resting places do the opposite?
Seemed like a good time for the coffin's inhabitant to make their way out, yeah?
"..."
Instead, the coffin made no pleas to be opened. No further shakes or shrieks. No bumps against the lid. Not even a word to say for itself.
Maybe the inhabitant no longer desired freedom, now knowing that the surrounding reality was more hazardous than they remembered.
Perhaps that last slam was the last act of a dying creature, now starved for air, and the coffin had fulfilled its purpose once more.
Or it could be that the person inside thought everyone outside was crazy and/or too dangerous to be around, and staying in a place meant for dead people was the best decision for once.
Whatever the case, the coffin would not provide any answers.
Dead men tell no tales, after all. Why would their resting places do the opposite?
“Mm-hm!”
She wasn’t sure what to be right now, so she just decided to be nice. It never really hurt to be nice, because it didn’t really take any effort for her. It was easy to smile and to say thank you and to not be rude for her. It’s how she learned to get by for all these years. It was why she was just quiet, instead of a loser or a weirdo or a loner. It’s because she had learned how people are supposed to behave, and she mimicked that. Until it was nothing but instinct.
Which was why she was willing to address the issue at hand that nobody properly did yet.
Her boots scuttled over the snowy ground, almost slipping, as she bolted from the person who was helping her. Both of her palms smacked against the coffin’s lid as she stared, wide-eyed, putting her back to everyone, like she was taking all of the impact against it from the inside, the representation of all that desperation and panic, and sending it back.
She slapped her palm against it. Once, and twice, feeling its chill on her clothed skin. Everything still hurt, but she didn’t care about that, because her focus wasn’t on herself anymore.
“Hello?”
She felt very awkward.
“Wait, wait, I’m helping, I'm helping!”
Her hands scrambled desperately for some lid or cover, a mechanism from the outside to unlock the person within. She ran her fingers all over the side to feel if there was a hinge, and looked around for any part that shined more or less than the surrounding area- she wasn’t sure how to do this. She could barely untangle a knot of yarn, how could she save somebody like this? How could she help? She wasn’t ever really good at figuring things out, or at solving things, or at puzzles. She wasn’t that bad, but she wasn’t good either, and she was thinking of the coffin like one big, person-sized puzzle; it wasn’t really working well so far.
“Guys?”
She wasn’t sure what to be right now, so she just decided to be nice. It never really hurt to be nice, because it didn’t really take any effort for her. It was easy to smile and to say thank you and to not be rude for her. It’s how she learned to get by for all these years. It was why she was just quiet, instead of a loser or a weirdo or a loner. It’s because she had learned how people are supposed to behave, and she mimicked that. Until it was nothing but instinct.
Which was why she was willing to address the issue at hand that nobody properly did yet.
Her boots scuttled over the snowy ground, almost slipping, as she bolted from the person who was helping her. Both of her palms smacked against the coffin’s lid as she stared, wide-eyed, putting her back to everyone, like she was taking all of the impact against it from the inside, the representation of all that desperation and panic, and sending it back.
She slapped her palm against it. Once, and twice, feeling its chill on her clothed skin. Everything still hurt, but she didn’t care about that, because her focus wasn’t on herself anymore.
“Hello?”
She felt very awkward.
“Wait, wait, I’m helping, I'm helping!”
Her hands scrambled desperately for some lid or cover, a mechanism from the outside to unlock the person within. She ran her fingers all over the side to feel if there was a hinge, and looked around for any part that shined more or less than the surrounding area- she wasn’t sure how to do this. She could barely untangle a knot of yarn, how could she save somebody like this? How could she help? She wasn’t ever really good at figuring things out, or at solving things, or at puzzles. She wasn’t that bad, but she wasn’t good either, and she was thinking of the coffin like one big, person-sized puzzle; it wasn’t really working well so far.
“Guys?”
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
Untrustworthy people around, huh?
Three words doing not a lot of lifting but plenty of runaway imagination. Hector was acting strangely, no two ways about it, and Prii just couldn't figure out what angle he was coming from. Why imply that the girl couldn't be trusted if there was some kind of foul play? Prii couldn't think of a reason why someone wouldn't just say it out and out. That'd be the normal and sensible thing to do.
Hector wasn't doing that, and it worried Prii. They were on edge already. This girl had nearly died, thanks to Quentin. Even though things were under control for right now, Hector being weird was-things stopped being under control.
The girl went running towards Hector and started scrabbling and thumping on, on a coffin, talking to it as if... hold on, was that what that banging noise was before? Dammit, was somebody inside... how'd that even happen? The heck?
Prii took a few steps after her, feeling their breathing quickening again. She was a lot too close to Hector for comfort, now.
"I think Hector will need to move if you want to get that open."
Three words doing not a lot of lifting but plenty of runaway imagination. Hector was acting strangely, no two ways about it, and Prii just couldn't figure out what angle he was coming from. Why imply that the girl couldn't be trusted if there was some kind of foul play? Prii couldn't think of a reason why someone wouldn't just say it out and out. That'd be the normal and sensible thing to do.
Hector wasn't doing that, and it worried Prii. They were on edge already. This girl had nearly died, thanks to Quentin. Even though things were under control for right now, Hector being weird was-things stopped being under control.
The girl went running towards Hector and started scrabbling and thumping on, on a coffin, talking to it as if... hold on, was that what that banging noise was before? Dammit, was somebody inside... how'd that even happen? The heck?
Prii took a few steps after her, feeling their breathing quickening again. She was a lot too close to Hector for comfort, now.
"I think Hector will need to move if you want to get that open."
-
Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2720
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Hector didn't get closer to the others. They infringed on his space. The sudden hysterics were a sight, and he trusted them less than anything else he'd encountered. Crocodile tears weren't beneath anyone who feigned death.
How did this coffin get filled? Hector had an idea or two.
He bounced on the balls of his feet, dancing back from the coffin when prompted.
"Be my guest," he said. Let them have each other. It was no better than they deserved.
He backpedaled quickly, opening twenty feet of space while also filling it with intervening obstacles. His body was shielded with tombstones, especially when he ducked down behind a large one, rooted in the snow, and unearthed another parcel of pork. He finally tucked the meat from his hand into the bundle, then, with the majority of the prize he'd distributed here secured under his arm, he prepared to go.
"Good luck with the 'help.'"
He darted off. Daylight was wasting.
((Hector Quayle continued in rebury))
How did this coffin get filled? Hector had an idea or two.
He bounced on the balls of his feet, dancing back from the coffin when prompted.
"Be my guest," he said. Let them have each other. It was no better than they deserved.
He backpedaled quickly, opening twenty feet of space while also filling it with intervening obstacles. His body was shielded with tombstones, especially when he ducked down behind a large one, rooted in the snow, and unearthed another parcel of pork. He finally tucked the meat from his hand into the bundle, then, with the majority of the prize he'd distributed here secured under his arm, he prepared to go.
"Good luck with the 'help.'"
He darted off. Daylight was wasting.
((Hector Quayle continued in rebury))
I bid you all dark greetings!
The pounding against the coffin resumed, and if a reaction was wanted, that wish would be granted.
Under the girl's palms, she could feel movement. Shifting inside-the coffin's inhabitant was still alive.
But still, the lid refused to budge when pulled. It did not seem to be a mechanical issue keeping them trapped, rather another force.
Almost as though the captive would prefer to remain in their place.
However, as the stomper boy made his leave, his footsteps fading as the distance grew, a change occurred.
Ever so slightly, the lid shifted.
It opened a crack, enough that the green eye made a reappearance.
Quickly, the area that could be seen was observed. The two figures. The graveyard. The lack of any other presence.
Finally, the voice.
"Is...are they gone?"
it wasn't a whisper, but it was close.
Under the girl's palms, she could feel movement. Shifting inside-the coffin's inhabitant was still alive.
But still, the lid refused to budge when pulled. It did not seem to be a mechanical issue keeping them trapped, rather another force.
Almost as though the captive would prefer to remain in their place.
However, as the stomper boy made his leave, his footsteps fading as the distance grew, a change occurred.
Ever so slightly, the lid shifted.
It opened a crack, enough that the green eye made a reappearance.
Quickly, the area that could be seen was observed. The two figures. The graveyard. The lack of any other presence.
Finally, the voice.
"Is...are they gone?"
it wasn't a whisper, but it was close.
"Uh..." she paused, switching her focus to the meat boy towards the other two, "there's some other people? But mostly gone, uh, I'm not sure what you meant by "they" but-"
Amy paused to take a breath and then tugged at the open crevice of the lid. She wasn't sure what else to say, actually. It hurt her lungs a bit. Maybe she shouldn't be the one doing this. Maybe it should be someone else.
"Wanna come out? Or..."
On her knees, she scuttled back a bit, awkwardly, with a wet skirt and her foot caught on the fabric. She teetered on the edge of balance for a second, before righting herself again. A hand was offered out.
Amy paused to take a breath and then tugged at the open crevice of the lid. She wasn't sure what else to say, actually. It hurt her lungs a bit. Maybe she shouldn't be the one doing this. Maybe it should be someone else.
"Wanna come out? Or..."
On her knees, she scuttled back a bit, awkwardly, with a wet skirt and her foot caught on the fabric. She teetered on the edge of balance for a second, before righting herself again. A hand was offered out.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
Prii's eyes remained locked on Hector as he backed up, continuing to behave just as shiftily as before. What was his deal? Was he just mad that Prii interrupted him beating the hell out of someone? Was that all it boiled down to? It was so hard to get a read on anything when the circumstances were anything but normal. In the end they kind of just stood there, puzzling out the warning, and watched him go, which was a considerable relief, almost as much as Quentin dipping.
Something scraped and Prii's eyes dropped to the scene straight in front of them. Their ears—finally cleared of the ringing reverberations of gunfire—pricked up. A voice. Someone really was inside a coffin. What the...
They shook off the confusion. Whatever the reason, coffin dweller clearly required some assistance.
"I can help too," they added, giving the girl a small smile. "Let's get you out of there."
Something scraped and Prii's eyes dropped to the scene straight in front of them. Their ears—finally cleared of the ringing reverberations of gunfire—pricked up. A voice. Someone really was inside a coffin. What the...
They shook off the confusion. Whatever the reason, coffin dweller clearly required some assistance.
"I can help too," they added, giving the girl a small smile. "Let's get you out of there."
The eye stares at the hand. It darts to the other. Then, it disappears-lost in the darkness.
The voice returns.
"Okay, okay."
A deep breath.
"I'm-I'm coming out."
The lid started shifting. Not too fast, but not too slow. Hinges creaked, but could be ignored.
The head panel moved aside, the inner workings of the coffin could now be seen. White puffing that lined the inside on the cap panel, one of the few parts that avoided discoloration for the most part, perhaps only a touch darker than it had been years ago. The hinge cover browned, mud and dirt having leaked through the years. The pillow at the head of the coffin suffered the most, browned and reddened and greened and perhaps more that was hidden from view. The extendover and overthrow, reddened and browned from it's proximity to a corpse for so long, were folded inward, as though it were a blanket, meant to keep the inhabitant warm.
And surrounded by it all was a girl, clad in white and a purple-ish color, a bag clutched against her chest.
"Uh...hi."
The wave she gave was small, and clearly forced.
The voice returns.
"Okay, okay."
A deep breath.
"I'm-I'm coming out."
The lid started shifting. Not too fast, but not too slow. Hinges creaked, but could be ignored.
The head panel moved aside, the inner workings of the coffin could now be seen. White puffing that lined the inside on the cap panel, one of the few parts that avoided discoloration for the most part, perhaps only a touch darker than it had been years ago. The hinge cover browned, mud and dirt having leaked through the years. The pillow at the head of the coffin suffered the most, browned and reddened and greened and perhaps more that was hidden from view. The extendover and overthrow, reddened and browned from it's proximity to a corpse for so long, were folded inward, as though it were a blanket, meant to keep the inhabitant warm.
And surrounded by it all was a girl, clad in white and a purple-ish color, a bag clutched against her chest.
"Uh...hi."
The wave she gave was small, and clearly forced.
Amy smiled back with a friendly little giggle and then realized that maybe the other person wasn't looking to communicate the way that people usually smile and nod at each other, so she stopped smiling and pretended that it never happened.
"Hai!!!!!" Amy said to the girl in the coffin, which was probably more like "Hiiiiii" and you know what in hindsight she probably sounded very unenthusiastic but alright.
Anyhow, she stuck her hand out further, tilting her head. Like, wait, what's the holdup? Can't you get out already? People might want to kill you. She was tired. She was waiting. She felt a little hurt, and the pain was fading mostly little bit by little bit even though she winced when breathing too deeply sometimes. She thought that this was a cool scene, like, straight out of some mystery/romance novel because of the sheer gothic romanticism and vampirecore vibes or whatever of meeting a cute girl by opening her coffin or whatever. Alright, that was kind of weird. Anyhow.
"Need a hand getting out?"
Amy shook her hand, a little insistently.
"Hai!!!!!" Amy said to the girl in the coffin, which was probably more like "Hiiiiii" and you know what in hindsight she probably sounded very unenthusiastic but alright.
Anyhow, she stuck her hand out further, tilting her head. Like, wait, what's the holdup? Can't you get out already? People might want to kill you. She was tired. She was waiting. She felt a little hurt, and the pain was fading mostly little bit by little bit even though she winced when breathing too deeply sometimes. She thought that this was a cool scene, like, straight out of some mystery/romance novel because of the sheer gothic romanticism and vampirecore vibes or whatever of meeting a cute girl by opening her coffin or whatever. Alright, that was kind of weird. Anyhow.
"Need a hand getting out?"
Amy shook her hand, a little insistently.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
Prii couldn't help being a little freaked out. Sure, they'd known there was somebody inside of there, but actually seeing her was another matter altogether.
You didn't really think about the inside of a coffin. Not what happened after it was below the ground. Prii was thinking about it far too much now.
The offer was already laid out and extended, so they stood by. Didn't want to crowd, and honestly, needed a second.
You didn't really think about the inside of a coffin. Not what happened after it was below the ground. Prii was thinking about it far too much now.
The offer was already laid out and extended, so they stood by. Didn't want to crowd, and honestly, needed a second.
For a moment, the girl simply stared. At the girl offering a hand. Then the hand itself.
Then, she blinked.
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks."
She took the hand in her own. Another hand, holding the handles of a duffle bag with a thumb, grabbed the side of the coffin.
The efforts combined, it only took a second or two for her to get out of her Much-Too-Early-Grave.
She was crouched, just barely keeping her knees from touching the ground.
Green eyes scanned the graveyard once more, and when nothing new was found, landed back on the other girl.
"...I'm Mariya."
It was loud enough for both the others to have heard. But that was about it.
Then, she blinked.
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks."
She took the hand in her own. Another hand, holding the handles of a duffle bag with a thumb, grabbed the side of the coffin.
The efforts combined, it only took a second or two for her to get out of her Much-Too-Early-Grave.
She was crouched, just barely keeping her knees from touching the ground.
Green eyes scanned the graveyard once more, and when nothing new was found, landed back on the other girl.
"...I'm Mariya."
It was loud enough for both the others to have heard. But that was about it.