When Arjen's face was wiped to remove the blood, he froze out of confusion. He felt humiliated, being treated like this, felt shame, every movement Juliette made on the surface of his visage felt uncomfortable. Juliette gave him a pad he put into his nose afterwards.
"Thanks," he said neutrally. Then, he was released from Kelly's hug. He felt a cold chill not being hugged anymore, ashamed for having cried, for being helped.
He avoided eye contact with his fellow classmates. Most importanly, he stayed silent.
Holiday in Cambodia.
Tagging Sh4de! After that, open!
"I mean I feel about the same as I did before." Nothing really new happened. Arjen was better but was he better. "Like, what's the plan? we gonna hold up here or go somewhere else?" Marco didn't really have any pity for Arjen. They were all here, they were all fucked up. They were all probably going to die. Arjen said it himself. They were already dead. Maybe, maybe. Maybe they were already dead, but Marco wasn't. Marco wasn't probably going to die. Marco decided that he was probably going to live. "You good now, Arjen? Feel better?"
"Can we trust you to hold a sword or are you going to crumple up? Because like, if your reaction to meeting new people is to crumple up and cry, I'm not sure how much I can actually trust you, if Satan forbid, someone tries to fucking kill us. I can trust Kelly, I can trust Juliette, they've got their heads on right now, but you? Like right now, you can either man up, and get your shit together, you back me up, I back you up, but like, if you're so sure you're done..."
Marco nodded his head towards the outboard side of the ship. "You could save everyone who wants to live the time and effort and go for a dive." Whatever, if everyone hates him for it, so be it, not much would change anyways. This shit wasn't gonna work if they had a weak link. Sometimes you have to tell it to people straight for them to realize some shit. He looked at Kelly and Juliette.
"Anyways, we gotta figure something out, because you know all the people we went to school with. I know all these people. This happened before to like seven or eight other schools, so it's probably gonna happen here too. A good chunk of our classmates are already shitters, so we gotta make a game plan in case they wanna come and kill our shit. Because you know they will if they want to."
"Can we trust you to hold a sword or are you going to crumple up? Because like, if your reaction to meeting new people is to crumple up and cry, I'm not sure how much I can actually trust you, if Satan forbid, someone tries to fucking kill us. I can trust Kelly, I can trust Juliette, they've got their heads on right now, but you? Like right now, you can either man up, and get your shit together, you back me up, I back you up, but like, if you're so sure you're done..."
Marco nodded his head towards the outboard side of the ship. "You could save everyone who wants to live the time and effort and go for a dive." Whatever, if everyone hates him for it, so be it, not much would change anyways. This shit wasn't gonna work if they had a weak link. Sometimes you have to tell it to people straight for them to realize some shit. He looked at Kelly and Juliette.
"Anyways, we gotta figure something out, because you know all the people we went to school with. I know all these people. This happened before to like seven or eight other schools, so it's probably gonna happen here too. A good chunk of our classmates are already shitters, so we gotta make a game plan in case they wanna come and kill our shit. Because you know they will if they want to."
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Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Juliette contemplated the side of the boat for a moment while Marco chewed out Arjen. She remembered, for reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on, a big splash, a cannonball, and then staring into the river imagining being spun around and pulled under and swept away. It felt so long ago.
If she'd jumped, and had lived, maybe she would've been institutionalized for a time. Her family would've pulled her out of school, and maybe not enough time would've passed before the trip for her to be trusted with that much independence. She'd be hearing about this instead, and musing, probably, on how it would change her eventual electoral chances. A suicide attempt, getting past that could be an overcoming-adversity moment. And she would carry a torch for her fallen peers. Most likely, it would've ultimately all turned in her favor.
None of it mattered now. There was no point fretting over what could have been.
Back at school, she would've done something to comfort Arjen. It would've been a difficult path to walk, avoiding alienating Marco while also trying to make his victim feel better. She knew the loud boy was volatile and tended to double down. She could still remember the circle at the party, still taste the artificial peach. She would've probably pulled Kelly into the mix, gotten her to go ahead with one or the other, split the squabbling pair and then played it like she was on both sides at once while maintaining enough vagueness for it all to simmer down. That sounded like a lot of effort and right now she just didn't have it in her, so she didn't comment on that. There were other important things happening. They were discussing plans.
"Moving on might be smart," she said. "I bet it'll get very hot here."
Still, while she didn't want to intervene personally in the predicament the boys were in, it might be best to give them a little space to work things out themselves. And, more than that, Juliette wanted to take a moment to talk with Kelly on her own, to get a chance to feel out the other girl, see how she was doing. Juliette had always felt her something of a kindred spirit.
"Also," she said, "if, uh, if I could have just a moment with Kelly for a bit of... girl talk? We'll catch right up."
If she'd jumped, and had lived, maybe she would've been institutionalized for a time. Her family would've pulled her out of school, and maybe not enough time would've passed before the trip for her to be trusted with that much independence. She'd be hearing about this instead, and musing, probably, on how it would change her eventual electoral chances. A suicide attempt, getting past that could be an overcoming-adversity moment. And she would carry a torch for her fallen peers. Most likely, it would've ultimately all turned in her favor.
None of it mattered now. There was no point fretting over what could have been.
Back at school, she would've done something to comfort Arjen. It would've been a difficult path to walk, avoiding alienating Marco while also trying to make his victim feel better. She knew the loud boy was volatile and tended to double down. She could still remember the circle at the party, still taste the artificial peach. She would've probably pulled Kelly into the mix, gotten her to go ahead with one or the other, split the squabbling pair and then played it like she was on both sides at once while maintaining enough vagueness for it all to simmer down. That sounded like a lot of effort and right now she just didn't have it in her, so she didn't comment on that. There were other important things happening. They were discussing plans.
"Moving on might be smart," she said. "I bet it'll get very hot here."
Still, while she didn't want to intervene personally in the predicament the boys were in, it might be best to give them a little space to work things out themselves. And, more than that, Juliette wanted to take a moment to talk with Kelly on her own, to get a chance to feel out the other girl, see how she was doing. Juliette had always felt her something of a kindred spirit.
"Also," she said, "if, uh, if I could have just a moment with Kelly for a bit of... girl talk? We'll catch right up."
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Somersault
- Posts: 312
- Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 8:56 am
It would have been nice to say that she predicted the squabble between Marco and Arjen, that she had observed with the distance of a National Geographic documentary narrator as a gazelle was devoured by a lion. Simply observing the cycle of life, not taking part, a neutral arbiter.
It would have been nice to say that, but conflict-avoidant as she still was, Kelly found herself stepping away almost instinctively, trying to form a barrier between herself and the two arguing boys. Snapshots of lunchroom debates and arguments filled her mind. Freedom, people said, was a human right, but it was that freedom which had always kept her feet and face locked. To choose always meant sacrificing one for the other, a weight tipping a balance.
Once again, she felt as if she was stuck in those hallways again, paralyzed by indecision. This, she realized, was right in the pattern of home, a grasping for everything that once remained, everything that was torn away. Yet, she couldn’t help but hold on, as a child would to the remains of their ratty stuffed toy,
Home was still so, so far away, and Kelly was beginning to get sick of the feeling that always popped up in her stomach whenever she thought of it. For once, the small smile on her face was there no longer, replaced by a small frown as she looked at Juliette, her face finally reflective of the thoughts within.
She hadn’t changed, not really, and so the bitter taste was back. “Yeah, Juliette and I’ll be right behind,” Kelly called out, fake cheer returning to her voice like an old friend. “We ladies have got our, um, business to discuss!”
The fake giggle that came out afterwards only made her feel worse. It was what she always did, always needed, but here? Now? It was a confirmation of all her failures, her in-adaptability.
Those thoughts still lingered on her mind as soft steps moved her closer to the other girl. They were more casual now, if only just.
“So?” She asked, whisper-quiet, face once again flat, if truthful, voice finally going down to its natural pitch. “You got anything juicy?”
There was a smile again, at the end of the sentence, but it was more of a slight upturning of the ears, weary if less plastered on. If she were to have to be herself, maybe it was best to do so in front of someone who understood the power that change could bring, too.
It would have been nice to say that, but conflict-avoidant as she still was, Kelly found herself stepping away almost instinctively, trying to form a barrier between herself and the two arguing boys. Snapshots of lunchroom debates and arguments filled her mind. Freedom, people said, was a human right, but it was that freedom which had always kept her feet and face locked. To choose always meant sacrificing one for the other, a weight tipping a balance.
Once again, she felt as if she was stuck in those hallways again, paralyzed by indecision. This, she realized, was right in the pattern of home, a grasping for everything that once remained, everything that was torn away. Yet, she couldn’t help but hold on, as a child would to the remains of their ratty stuffed toy,
Home was still so, so far away, and Kelly was beginning to get sick of the feeling that always popped up in her stomach whenever she thought of it. For once, the small smile on her face was there no longer, replaced by a small frown as she looked at Juliette, her face finally reflective of the thoughts within.
She hadn’t changed, not really, and so the bitter taste was back. “Yeah, Juliette and I’ll be right behind,” Kelly called out, fake cheer returning to her voice like an old friend. “We ladies have got our, um, business to discuss!”
The fake giggle that came out afterwards only made her feel worse. It was what she always did, always needed, but here? Now? It was a confirmation of all her failures, her in-adaptability.
Those thoughts still lingered on her mind as soft steps moved her closer to the other girl. They were more casual now, if only just.
“So?” She asked, whisper-quiet, face once again flat, if truthful, voice finally going down to its natural pitch. “You got anything juicy?”
There was a smile again, at the end of the sentence, but it was more of a slight upturning of the ears, weary if less plastered on. If she were to have to be herself, maybe it was best to do so in front of someone who understood the power that change could bring, too.
Arjen was about to calm down. Maybe Marco was right and he should worry less, man up and not appear weak, even though he couldn't help it. But then Marco told him to jump into the ocean if he wanted to give up. This sparked apathy into energy.
Arjen balled his fists and took steps forward to Marco, considering grabbing him by his collar again.
"Excuse me? The fuck is wrong with you?"
Then he decided otherwise and Arjen took some more steps towards the edge of the deck.
"You know what? This sounds like a great idea. I should do it. Maybe I should simply take a leap into death and don't waste any of your fucking time. Don't you agree?"
Arjen exclaimed loudly and angrily.
Arjen balled his fists and took steps forward to Marco, considering grabbing him by his collar again.
"Excuse me? The fuck is wrong with you?"
Then he decided otherwise and Arjen took some more steps towards the edge of the deck.
"You know what? This sounds like a great idea. I should do it. Maybe I should simply take a leap into death and don't waste any of your fucking time. Don't you agree?"
Arjen exclaimed loudly and angrily.
They were alone now. Marco was alone with Arjen, and he did not seem too pleased at all about what he said.
Good.
Marco was satisfied. Not in the usual ‘lol get tr0ll3d ecks XD Dee Dee’ way, but in the ‘holy shit I’m actually getting through to this kid’ way. Maybe Arjen wasn’t as hopeless as Marco thought. Marco decided to keep pressing, to play the reverse psychology game and get Arjen the hate and discontent in his body needed to motivate him into not being a lil bitch about their scenario.
“Well, why don’t you? There’s like around two hundred of us probably. If more of your type just give up early on and drink ocean water, then more of us who actually want to live get a better chance of making it out.” Marco decided to make a gamble. Probably a dumb one, but if worse comes to worse he could just claim self defense. Marco kicked Arjen’s sword to him. “Hell, If you wanna go out in style, you could do the samurai route with your sword and commit sudoku. I reckon everyone watching on 4chan will immortalize you into a meme if you ‘an hero’ that way. Shit, if you yell that you did it for the lulz, and ‘dubs picks what’s on your tombstone, you’ll be straight up god tier as a meme.”
That’s it Marc, let him know the truth. Nobody will pity him, nobody will care if he offs himself, all it does is make less competition, and besides his parents nobody will care or know who he was unless he did something so stupid as to show up on an image board’s radar.
“Truth is, nobody cares about your predicament, because news flash, you’re not the only one. Quit this ‘I am a victim’ self persecution bullshit. I get that maybe back home, it’s cool to have a victim complex and be persecuted all the time, because that’s what we do nowadays to make excuses for our own shortcomings instead of owning up to our own mediocrity, but out here, nobody gives a shit, and that ‘I’m a victim feel sorry for me’ mentality is only good for one thing. If you wanna be a victim so bad, then be one.”
Marco really hoped the message was getting to Arjen. “Look at you, and look at me. You got a sword, I got a rifle. Bet you most people got shit like my little pony toys and dinner plates as their weapons. You think you don’t have a chance but that’s bullshit. You know the last person who won this shit? ... Some artsy little emo, probably no bigger than either of us.”
Marco put his hand on Arjen’s shoulder. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself. If you really think that you stand no chance, then go ahead and be my guest and go ride a dolphin or something, but if what I’m telling you pisses you off and makes you feel something, which looking at you I can tell it does, then it means all hope for you isn’t lost yet. Get mad. Prove me wrong. Don’t be a victim.”
Marco smiled. “Nobody remembers the victims here. You’re not really a victim are you?”
Good.
Marco was satisfied. Not in the usual ‘lol get tr0ll3d ecks XD Dee Dee’ way, but in the ‘holy shit I’m actually getting through to this kid’ way. Maybe Arjen wasn’t as hopeless as Marco thought. Marco decided to keep pressing, to play the reverse psychology game and get Arjen the hate and discontent in his body needed to motivate him into not being a lil bitch about their scenario.
“Well, why don’t you? There’s like around two hundred of us probably. If more of your type just give up early on and drink ocean water, then more of us who actually want to live get a better chance of making it out.” Marco decided to make a gamble. Probably a dumb one, but if worse comes to worse he could just claim self defense. Marco kicked Arjen’s sword to him. “Hell, If you wanna go out in style, you could do the samurai route with your sword and commit sudoku. I reckon everyone watching on 4chan will immortalize you into a meme if you ‘an hero’ that way. Shit, if you yell that you did it for the lulz, and ‘dubs picks what’s on your tombstone, you’ll be straight up god tier as a meme.”
That’s it Marc, let him know the truth. Nobody will pity him, nobody will care if he offs himself, all it does is make less competition, and besides his parents nobody will care or know who he was unless he did something so stupid as to show up on an image board’s radar.
“Truth is, nobody cares about your predicament, because news flash, you’re not the only one. Quit this ‘I am a victim’ self persecution bullshit. I get that maybe back home, it’s cool to have a victim complex and be persecuted all the time, because that’s what we do nowadays to make excuses for our own shortcomings instead of owning up to our own mediocrity, but out here, nobody gives a shit, and that ‘I’m a victim feel sorry for me’ mentality is only good for one thing. If you wanna be a victim so bad, then be one.”
Marco really hoped the message was getting to Arjen. “Look at you, and look at me. You got a sword, I got a rifle. Bet you most people got shit like my little pony toys and dinner plates as their weapons. You think you don’t have a chance but that’s bullshit. You know the last person who won this shit? ... Some artsy little emo, probably no bigger than either of us.”
Marco put his hand on Arjen’s shoulder. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself. If you really think that you stand no chance, then go ahead and be my guest and go ride a dolphin or something, but if what I’m telling you pisses you off and makes you feel something, which looking at you I can tell it does, then it means all hope for you isn’t lost yet. Get mad. Prove me wrong. Don’t be a victim.”
Marco smiled. “Nobody remembers the victims here. You’re not really a victim are you?”
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Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Juliette walked with slow, quiet steps along the length of the boat, away from where Arjen and Marco were engaged in their little confrontation. The boys sounded to be escalating, and for a moment, that caught Juliette in a way she hadn't expected it to. She felt that old habitual need to turn around and march back over and smooth things, or separate them, or whatever, but she also felt a competing urge to glance over her shoulder and snarl at them to sit down and shut up for just five minutes so she could have a little peace and quiet and time to get herself in order and decide exactly what she was going to do. But she didn't do either of those things.
Really, maybe it was for the best that the two of them were squabbling, because it let her and Kelly operate comparatively unobserved. As long as nobody actually killed or maimed anybody else while she wasn't paying attention to them, it would all come out in her favor, she thought. The long-term integrity of the group might suffer a bit for it, but that was only a potential problem, and only potentially a problem for her.
She hopped over a coil of mildewy rope wound around some sort of metal protrusion jutting from the deck. Juliette didn't know anything about boats, but the sight was somehow familiar to her, and she wondered idly what it was called. Kelly was whispering to her, asking for the scoop, the details and gossip. She would likely be disappointed when she found out what was actually on Juliette's mind, but then, she should've known better than to expect gossip from someone who kept such careful control of her image.
Actually, that wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. It was a whole new world here, and Kelly had perhaps come to appreciate that already. Maybe she could see between the lines a little. Maybe she'd already noticed the small ways in which Juliette was letting her hair down, or cutting her losses, or otherwise acting in a manner that she would not have at home. Or maybe it went even deeper. Maybe Kelly had always had the wrong idea. Juliette's classmates seemed to think her frigid, prim, unapproachable. Why? She'd been turning that over and over since the school election, not because of its results, but because of the way others had expected her to react. Her peers had seemed surprised that she did not follow Lucas Brady down the jagged road to social oblivion, that she did not pitch a fit or scream or suck up into her own mind and check out for the rest of the year. So many people had asked if she was okay, and none of them seemed to believe her when she said she was just fine.
She'd considered throwing herself into the Tennessee River after a bad day in gym class, but when the election results had come in she'd shrugged, had a can of Coke, and spent the evening listening to Beethoven. It had been a nice night. She hadn't cried.
At this edge of the ship, either there had never been guardrails, or else they'd broken off long ago. It mirrored the area where, somewhere behind her on the corners of her awareness, Arjen was melodramatically threatening to jump. Juliette sighed as she sat down, dangling her legs over the edge. The breeze tickled her below the hem of her skirt. The sun-warmed metal prickled her with heat through it. She patted the spot next to her, gesturing Kelly to sit as well.
"I'm not sure I'd call it 'juicy,' exactly," she said. "More, just... I suppose I want to talk things out a little. I'm worried this may be tough on me. I want to be strong and I want to do what's right and I want to help people. I'm also scared and hurting."
It felt really, really wrong, speaking this bluntly about such matters. Juliette looked at the way the water rippled below her feet. It looked deep. If she slipped her shoes off, they would plop in with a little splash, the ripples would fade, and they would never be seen again. Beyond, the ocean stretched, reflecting the sun. The horizon was a blur, the hazy blue of sea and sky mingling.
"I always hated swimming in gym class," she continued, after a moment's pause. These words were easier. "Everything about it was awful, but the worst was that I had to pretend I liked it, so Coach Skinner wouldn't mark me down. But now? I almost miss it."
She laughed, bounced her feet against the hull. Marco was going on and on, too faint for her to discern his actual words, and she didn't care one bit as long as nobody started shooting.
"Almost. But how about you? Pining for those halcyon days in the pool?"
Really, maybe it was for the best that the two of them were squabbling, because it let her and Kelly operate comparatively unobserved. As long as nobody actually killed or maimed anybody else while she wasn't paying attention to them, it would all come out in her favor, she thought. The long-term integrity of the group might suffer a bit for it, but that was only a potential problem, and only potentially a problem for her.
She hopped over a coil of mildewy rope wound around some sort of metal protrusion jutting from the deck. Juliette didn't know anything about boats, but the sight was somehow familiar to her, and she wondered idly what it was called. Kelly was whispering to her, asking for the scoop, the details and gossip. She would likely be disappointed when she found out what was actually on Juliette's mind, but then, she should've known better than to expect gossip from someone who kept such careful control of her image.
Actually, that wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. It was a whole new world here, and Kelly had perhaps come to appreciate that already. Maybe she could see between the lines a little. Maybe she'd already noticed the small ways in which Juliette was letting her hair down, or cutting her losses, or otherwise acting in a manner that she would not have at home. Or maybe it went even deeper. Maybe Kelly had always had the wrong idea. Juliette's classmates seemed to think her frigid, prim, unapproachable. Why? She'd been turning that over and over since the school election, not because of its results, but because of the way others had expected her to react. Her peers had seemed surprised that she did not follow Lucas Brady down the jagged road to social oblivion, that she did not pitch a fit or scream or suck up into her own mind and check out for the rest of the year. So many people had asked if she was okay, and none of them seemed to believe her when she said she was just fine.
She'd considered throwing herself into the Tennessee River after a bad day in gym class, but when the election results had come in she'd shrugged, had a can of Coke, and spent the evening listening to Beethoven. It had been a nice night. She hadn't cried.
At this edge of the ship, either there had never been guardrails, or else they'd broken off long ago. It mirrored the area where, somewhere behind her on the corners of her awareness, Arjen was melodramatically threatening to jump. Juliette sighed as she sat down, dangling her legs over the edge. The breeze tickled her below the hem of her skirt. The sun-warmed metal prickled her with heat through it. She patted the spot next to her, gesturing Kelly to sit as well.
"I'm not sure I'd call it 'juicy,' exactly," she said. "More, just... I suppose I want to talk things out a little. I'm worried this may be tough on me. I want to be strong and I want to do what's right and I want to help people. I'm also scared and hurting."
It felt really, really wrong, speaking this bluntly about such matters. Juliette looked at the way the water rippled below her feet. It looked deep. If she slipped her shoes off, they would plop in with a little splash, the ripples would fade, and they would never be seen again. Beyond, the ocean stretched, reflecting the sun. The horizon was a blur, the hazy blue of sea and sky mingling.
"I always hated swimming in gym class," she continued, after a moment's pause. These words were easier. "Everything about it was awful, but the worst was that I had to pretend I liked it, so Coach Skinner wouldn't mark me down. But now? I almost miss it."
She laughed, bounced her feet against the hull. Marco was going on and on, too faint for her to discern his actual words, and she didn't care one bit as long as nobody started shooting.
"Almost. But how about you? Pining for those halcyon days in the pool?"
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Somersault
- Posts: 312
- Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 8:56 am
Slowly, as she followed Juliette further and further away from the bickering, the voices of Marco and Arjen began to quiet, invectives and shouts reduced to muffled angry-sounding word clouds. They were still going at it, that much was obvious. Perhaps it would've been smarter to go between them, try to broker some kind of peace between the two, but even on her best of days, Kelly wasn't exactly the best at finding peace like that. Most of her conversational conflict prevention experience was preemptive, after all, a shot to quell the sleeping beast before it ever had the chance to wake.
Besides, she noted, as she continued to walk away, selfishness was almost certainly a prerequisite for living here. She had tried to comfort Arjen enough, had hugged him, shown some semblance of warmth, and the cameras had seen that, hadn't they? They would know that she at least tried to do something, she had tried, and here, surrounded by death, destruction, despair, wouldn't that be enough?
For them perhaps, at least, but she'd have to admit that she didn't know whether those actions would grant her inner peace.
Juliette was motioning for her to sit over, now. Kelly took the offer silently, but with a smile, the usual one. She sat down, too, daintily placing herself on the edge of the boat. She was able to stare at her flat-covered feet dangling over the edge. Could've been a nice picture to take. It would've been probably be paired with some musing on the uncertainties that growing up brought, some hackneyed quote about how unsure she was about her future, about her next steps, the flowing of her fortunes intertwined with her feet going to-and-fro, carried by the wind and breeze. Not that any of those captions'd be true, of course, considering that she'd laid out her life plans fairly certainly, ending in a comfortable veterinary practice, and organizing Doctors without Borders trips, even created those vision boards, but that wasn't exactly great conversation fodder, was it?
Shame she'd have to kill to realize that, kill the parts of her that still refused to watch horror movies, the parts of her that blushed like wildfire at cute boys walking past. Snip off the parts deemed unsuitable for survival and leave them to scatter into the wind.
Put like that, it sounded so simple, so formulaic, but as Kelly continued to stare off into the sea, she continued the routine which had led her to this exact moment in the first place. A nod there, an mmhmm there, soft acknowledgements of listening, and in all fairness, she was listening. In all fairness to Juliette, then, the parts Kelly was able to pick up on showed that Juliette too, was shifting. Shedding skin, showing fear.
"Yeah, I think we're all scared here," Kelly replied back, hopefully soft enough to imply concern but show no traces of any other real insight. Still friendly, still nice, still too book-smart to ever see things as they truly were. Still that Kelly, the one stood still back in Tennessee.
She was still this Kelly, though. That'd have to be enough for now.
"Don't know about swimming, but doesn't this make for a nice view?"
It was conversation, just like back home. Except it really wasn't because these discussions were happening with someone who would've never spoken like this back home, but for now, Kelly could pretend it was. She could pretend, if only to drown everything out on the other side.
Besides, she noted, as she continued to walk away, selfishness was almost certainly a prerequisite for living here. She had tried to comfort Arjen enough, had hugged him, shown some semblance of warmth, and the cameras had seen that, hadn't they? They would know that she at least tried to do something, she had tried, and here, surrounded by death, destruction, despair, wouldn't that be enough?
For them perhaps, at least, but she'd have to admit that she didn't know whether those actions would grant her inner peace.
Juliette was motioning for her to sit over, now. Kelly took the offer silently, but with a smile, the usual one. She sat down, too, daintily placing herself on the edge of the boat. She was able to stare at her flat-covered feet dangling over the edge. Could've been a nice picture to take. It would've been probably be paired with some musing on the uncertainties that growing up brought, some hackneyed quote about how unsure she was about her future, about her next steps, the flowing of her fortunes intertwined with her feet going to-and-fro, carried by the wind and breeze. Not that any of those captions'd be true, of course, considering that she'd laid out her life plans fairly certainly, ending in a comfortable veterinary practice, and organizing Doctors without Borders trips, even created those vision boards, but that wasn't exactly great conversation fodder, was it?
Shame she'd have to kill to realize that, kill the parts of her that still refused to watch horror movies, the parts of her that blushed like wildfire at cute boys walking past. Snip off the parts deemed unsuitable for survival and leave them to scatter into the wind.
Put like that, it sounded so simple, so formulaic, but as Kelly continued to stare off into the sea, she continued the routine which had led her to this exact moment in the first place. A nod there, an mmhmm there, soft acknowledgements of listening, and in all fairness, she was listening. In all fairness to Juliette, then, the parts Kelly was able to pick up on showed that Juliette too, was shifting. Shedding skin, showing fear.
"Yeah, I think we're all scared here," Kelly replied back, hopefully soft enough to imply concern but show no traces of any other real insight. Still friendly, still nice, still too book-smart to ever see things as they truly were. Still that Kelly, the one stood still back in Tennessee.
She was still this Kelly, though. That'd have to be enough for now.
"Don't know about swimming, but doesn't this make for a nice view?"
It was conversation, just like back home. Except it really wasn't because these discussions were happening with someone who would've never spoken like this back home, but for now, Kelly could pretend it was. She could pretend, if only to drown everything out on the other side.
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Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
"It really does."
With a small sigh, Juliette brought her arm up, rested it on Kelly's shoulder, gave the girl a little squeeze, and then shoved her overboard.
With a small sigh, Juliette brought her arm up, rested it on Kelly's shoulder, gave the girl a little squeeze, and then shoved her overboard.
Well, why don't you?
Because he did not want to die.
Arjen stared intensely into Marco's eyes, ignoring everything around him, even his sword next to him. He wouldn't pick it up.
Marco was right, wasn't he? Arjen was a coward, he was a victim. But did that give him a right to insult Arjen? No! There was a silence between them, Arjen not able to deal with how to reply to these accusations and insults. He then fired back.
"A chance on surviving? You want to believe that anyone of us has a real chance of surviving? How do you think that's going to happen?"
Because he did not want to die.
Arjen stared intensely into Marco's eyes, ignoring everything around him, even his sword next to him. He wouldn't pick it up.
Marco was right, wasn't he? Arjen was a coward, he was a victim. But did that give him a right to insult Arjen? No! There was a silence between them, Arjen not able to deal with how to reply to these accusations and insults. He then fired back.
"A chance on surviving? You want to believe that anyone of us has a real chance of surviving? How do you think that's going to happen?"
Marco pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Arjen wasn’t getting it after all. Fucking shit, Marco was not sure how to work with him. The guy wanted to give up but not go all the way in giving up, or some weird shit. Marco didn’t get it. Did Arjen want someone else to do it for him?
“Yes we got a chance of surviving! Use your fucking brain man!” Marco couldn’t make it any clearer if he tried, but somehow Arjen still wasn’t there. “The first thing you can do is drink some don’t-be-a-bitch juice, man the fuck up, and quit folding in on yourself just because it isn’t easy.”
Marco brushed a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I don’t know how to make it any clearer, just like...” This might actually be hopeless, Arjen might already be too far gone despite just waking up. “Ugh... Just like, quit giving up on yourself or *you* don’t have a chance. I don’t know what else to sa-“
...
....
“The fuck was that?”
“Yes we got a chance of surviving! Use your fucking brain man!” Marco couldn’t make it any clearer if he tried, but somehow Arjen still wasn’t there. “The first thing you can do is drink some don’t-be-a-bitch juice, man the fuck up, and quit folding in on yourself just because it isn’t easy.”
Marco brushed a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I don’t know how to make it any clearer, just like...” This might actually be hopeless, Arjen might already be too far gone despite just waking up. “Ugh... Just like, quit giving up on yourself or *you* don’t have a chance. I don’t know what else to sa-“
...
....
“The fuck was that?”
-
Grand Moff Hissa
- Posts: 2756
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
The splash was a lot bigger than the one Juliette had imagined for her shoe. It reminded her once more of gym, of an unwanted but not unexpected cannonball, but now there were no lanes, no walls to constrain the ripples, no coach to shout at them for horsing around. Coach Skinner was probably dead by now. Juliette watched the water for just a moment, transfixed, but tore herself away as Marco began to shout in confusion and consternation. She slowly pulled herself back from the edge and stood up carefully. It really would be unfortunate to follow Kelly right now, for a number of reasons.
Juliette's remaining time with this particular group of peers was now measured in either minutes or hours. Most likely, she would do well to make herself scarce before they could recover Kelly or suspicion could turn her way. Things were about to get very chaotic, and in the rush to do what needed doing she would likely go unquestioned. There would be repercussions and a reckoning after the fact, but she had no intent to be around for that part. And of course, if there was an unseen chunk of metal torn from the boat, or pillar of rock, or anything like that lurking just below the surface, she might get a little bit more breathing room, but would still need to have vanished by morning.
There was some real fear and excitement bubbling around inside Juliette, ready to erupt like a can of soda kicked down a staircase, and it didn't take much to tap into that. Her voice was shaky and shrill and she backpedaled step by step, hopping over the little rope-bearing protrusion from memory.
"G-guys," she shouted, "come quick. Kelly fell over the side."
Juliette's remaining time with this particular group of peers was now measured in either minutes or hours. Most likely, she would do well to make herself scarce before they could recover Kelly or suspicion could turn her way. Things were about to get very chaotic, and in the rush to do what needed doing she would likely go unquestioned. There would be repercussions and a reckoning after the fact, but she had no intent to be around for that part. And of course, if there was an unseen chunk of metal torn from the boat, or pillar of rock, or anything like that lurking just below the surface, she might get a little bit more breathing room, but would still need to have vanished by morning.
There was some real fear and excitement bubbling around inside Juliette, ready to erupt like a can of soda kicked down a staircase, and it didn't take much to tap into that. Her voice was shaky and shrill and she backpedaled step by step, hopping over the little rope-bearing protrusion from memory.
"G-guys," she shouted, "come quick. Kelly fell over the side."
-
Somersault
- Posts: 312
- Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 8:56 am
"Wha-"
There were many things written on Kelly's face as she was pushed into the sea. Surprise, fear, shock, but especially betrayal. It was only a few seconds at most that passed before she hit the water, contacted the deep blue, but everything that rushed through her head were jumbled clouds of thoughts, running through like hamsters on a wheel.
Why her? What had she done to deserve getting pushed in? Was she just that easy a-
She closed her eyes right before impact. Not that that helped much, the salt still feeling like it was getting into her every pore, but it meant that less water got into her eyes, as she continued to flail wildly, sinking deeper and deeper as her hands moved round and round, trying to generate some kind of forward propulsion to not end up in the watery depths forever. Everything was rushing through now, her mouth barely kept in, her heart feeling like it was beating faster and faster because ohgod she didn't want to die now, she had worked toohardtoohard to lose it all like this, even as she felt herself slowly being brought towards the bottom.
It was cold, so cold, goosebumps rushing onto her skin like little pinpricks, while hands still reached for anything, everything, vain attempts to notdie ohlord please. Was she really that weak? Had she already failed to change? Were the cameras only going to see her as another little victim, another body left in the path of-
Kelly's eyes burst open, desperately searching through the blurry water for her. Her. Juliette. That bitch. Biiiiitch. She was still up there. Up there, probably trying to make this all go away, be the same way she always was, and no. No. No. Slowly, the fear, the panic, slowly began to transmute into rage, the internal scream jar held within threatening to bubble, to burst, to blow up. Years of staring in silence, smiling without ever letting go, for this? A quick death, because she was just that gullible? That fragile?
A kick, upwards. A move, towards, the surface. Another kick, a stroke. She could make it. She was making it. Slowly, the sun was coming closer, so bright, calling her, just another push, then another, so close, so close. It couldn't end like this, not like this, because for once, for once in her entire life, Kelly was going to be selfish.
With a sharp gasp, she broke the surface, sputtering, wheezing, almost dry-heaving, but alive. Very much so. She probably looked like tra-shit, makeup washed off, soaked, ugly, awful, but she was still breathing, right? She took in a sharp breath, desperately getting oxygen into her lungs, for living, for screaming. The yacht was still there, just a bit further away, and Juliette was still there, shouting or something even if Kelly couldn't really tell right now with the whole almost drowning thing, so instead of speaking, Kelly screamed.
"W-WHAT THE FUCK? WHY?"
There was no modulation, nothing but fear, adrenaline, excitement, but there would be no more begging, anger held behind pleasantries and politeness. More swearing, too. Had never done enough of that.
Instead, Kelly would be living, while that bitch would rot. She would make sure of it. The cameras knew what had happened. They knew she was right.
There were many things written on Kelly's face as she was pushed into the sea. Surprise, fear, shock, but especially betrayal. It was only a few seconds at most that passed before she hit the water, contacted the deep blue, but everything that rushed through her head were jumbled clouds of thoughts, running through like hamsters on a wheel.
Why her? What had she done to deserve getting pushed in? Was she just that easy a-
She closed her eyes right before impact. Not that that helped much, the salt still feeling like it was getting into her every pore, but it meant that less water got into her eyes, as she continued to flail wildly, sinking deeper and deeper as her hands moved round and round, trying to generate some kind of forward propulsion to not end up in the watery depths forever. Everything was rushing through now, her mouth barely kept in, her heart feeling like it was beating faster and faster because ohgod she didn't want to die now, she had worked toohardtoohard to lose it all like this, even as she felt herself slowly being brought towards the bottom.
It was cold, so cold, goosebumps rushing onto her skin like little pinpricks, while hands still reached for anything, everything, vain attempts to notdie ohlord please. Was she really that weak? Had she already failed to change? Were the cameras only going to see her as another little victim, another body left in the path of-
Kelly's eyes burst open, desperately searching through the blurry water for her. Her. Juliette. That bitch. Biiiiitch. She was still up there. Up there, probably trying to make this all go away, be the same way she always was, and no. No. No. Slowly, the fear, the panic, slowly began to transmute into rage, the internal scream jar held within threatening to bubble, to burst, to blow up. Years of staring in silence, smiling without ever letting go, for this? A quick death, because she was just that gullible? That fragile?
A kick, upwards. A move, towards, the surface. Another kick, a stroke. She could make it. She was making it. Slowly, the sun was coming closer, so bright, calling her, just another push, then another, so close, so close. It couldn't end like this, not like this, because for once, for once in her entire life, Kelly was going to be selfish.
With a sharp gasp, she broke the surface, sputtering, wheezing, almost dry-heaving, but alive. Very much so. She probably looked like tra-shit, makeup washed off, soaked, ugly, awful, but she was still breathing, right? She took in a sharp breath, desperately getting oxygen into her lungs, for living, for screaming. The yacht was still there, just a bit further away, and Juliette was still there, shouting or something even if Kelly couldn't really tell right now with the whole almost drowning thing, so instead of speaking, Kelly screamed.
"W-WHAT THE FUCK? WHY?"
There was no modulation, nothing but fear, adrenaline, excitement, but there would be no more begging, anger held behind pleasantries and politeness. More swearing, too. Had never done enough of that.
Instead, Kelly would be living, while that bitch would rot. She would make sure of it. The cameras knew what had happened. They knew she was right.
Arjen's anger towards Marco evaporated once he heard the splash, followed by Juliette explaing that Kelly had fallen off the ship. Fallen off the ship. This was a joke, right?
Kelly, the girl who had hugged him moments ago, dead? Because the boat was fucking tilted? And there was no one in here to protect them from themselves and nature. They were just kids after all, who had been supervised by teachers who are no where to be found. An island full of kids trying to survive. Something did not seem right, though. The boat was tilted and Arjen also fell down. But what if it wasn't the strong wind or her feeling weak that pushed her over the edge.
What if it was suicide? It made sense. Arjen suddenly felt a sick and the hair on his neck erected. It was his fault, wasn't it? It was him who threatened to jump. That's how she got the idea, that's why she did it. Oh god, this can't be. He loudly exclaimed his revelation, in a high-pitched voice.
"She jumped! She fucking jumped!"
It all made sense. She hugged him and smiled at him, but now that he thought back to the smile she gave him, there was a small tiny bit of fakeness behind it. She had hidden a dark side inside of her Arjen enabled by being so negative. Or worse, he transfered his negativety to her with the hug. He felt better then she felt worse. He caused this, he caused this. He desperately looked at Juliette and Marco with his stomach revolting. Fuck, this can't be real.
When he looked into Marco's eyes however, he heard Marco's voice in his head, loudly trying to convince Arjen to jump. It was fucking Marco. If Marco had only shut his damn mouth, Kelly wouldn't have heard phrases like 'go jump so other people will have a better chance of surviving' or 'if you wanna be the victim, be one' that were still fresh in Arjen's memories. Arjen knew that Marco was wrong with his philosophy but Kelly had heard it and Marco's darwinistic philosophy killed Kelly.
"She jumped because of the words you said. SHE JUMPED BECAUSE OF YOUR SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST BULLSHIT YOU TOLD US DO YOU REALIZE?"
He then lunged at Marco, with his right hand trying to cover Marco's face and vision, the left one grabbing the collar of the leather vest.
Kelly, the girl who had hugged him moments ago, dead? Because the boat was fucking tilted? And there was no one in here to protect them from themselves and nature. They were just kids after all, who had been supervised by teachers who are no where to be found. An island full of kids trying to survive. Something did not seem right, though. The boat was tilted and Arjen also fell down. But what if it wasn't the strong wind or her feeling weak that pushed her over the edge.
What if it was suicide? It made sense. Arjen suddenly felt a sick and the hair on his neck erected. It was his fault, wasn't it? It was him who threatened to jump. That's how she got the idea, that's why she did it. Oh god, this can't be. He loudly exclaimed his revelation, in a high-pitched voice.
"She jumped! She fucking jumped!"
It all made sense. She hugged him and smiled at him, but now that he thought back to the smile she gave him, there was a small tiny bit of fakeness behind it. She had hidden a dark side inside of her Arjen enabled by being so negative. Or worse, he transfered his negativety to her with the hug. He felt better then she felt worse. He caused this, he caused this. He desperately looked at Juliette and Marco with his stomach revolting. Fuck, this can't be real.
When he looked into Marco's eyes however, he heard Marco's voice in his head, loudly trying to convince Arjen to jump. It was fucking Marco. If Marco had only shut his damn mouth, Kelly wouldn't have heard phrases like 'go jump so other people will have a better chance of surviving' or 'if you wanna be the victim, be one' that were still fresh in Arjen's memories. Arjen knew that Marco was wrong with his philosophy but Kelly had heard it and Marco's darwinistic philosophy killed Kelly.
"She jumped because of the words you said. SHE JUMPED BECAUSE OF YOUR SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST BULLSHIT YOU TOLD US DO YOU REALIZE?"
He then lunged at Marco, with his right hand trying to cover Marco's face and vision, the left one grabbing the collar of the leather vest.
"Aw shit! Seriously?! Where?"
Juliette came back, right on time. Sort of. She didn't come back with Kelly, who'd apparently fell off of the boat. Well that was a fucked set of circumstances happening at coincidentally the worst moment they could happen. Good news was, Marco didn't have to deal with crybaby Arjen anymore. Bad news was, he either had to worry about fishing Kelly out the ocean, or finding a dead body for the first time in his life.
"What hap-" Good news was no longer good news, as crybaby Arjen finally decided to take Marco's advice and be a bit more proactive. That wasn't as good as it seemed though, mostly because of one simple, very clear cut issue. ARJEN WAS BLAMING MARCO! ARJEN WAS GRABBING MARCO!
ARJEN!
WAS!
OFF!
HIS!
SHIT!
Marco turned his head as Arjen knocked the glasses right off of his face, sending them skidding somewhere on the boat. Marco could see Arjen, Juliette, and most of the boat just fine, but the grass of the island lost definition as the tree line blurred together. He felt Arjen try shoving him back as Marco struggled to wrestle him off. It was hard as shit with one free hand, seeing as the other wasn't gonna let Arjen anywhere near his rifle, the fucking psycho. "Hrrrgh! Get off of me you fucking C.H.U.D!" This was really getting on his nerves. Marco was certain he could hear Kelly's cries for help behind Arjen's High-Octane-Tard-Rage, and either the daft fuck was too stupid to hear it, or just plain didn't care.
...Fuck. Arjen, you better not be doi- THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS! HE'S USING KELLY AS AN EXCUSE TO SUICIDE-BY-MARCO! THE ABSOLUTE NERVE! Now, Marco had two fucking choices. One, he could spend all day wrestling with Arjen while Kelly probably drowns, or two, he could get Arjen off of him and go help Kelly. Number two was better, but the problem was it was really fucking difficult to do, and Juliette didn't seem like she was helping. "She's not dead! Let go!" He had something in his free hand that could end this very, very quick. But did he want to use it? No. Did he have to use it, though?
Marco realized he probably wasn't getting out of this, at least physically. He wasn't graced with the Cro-Magnon Carter genes after all. Did he have to use it? Yes. Kelly didn't have to drown, and Arjen didn't have to get shot the fuck up, but if Kelly were to not drown, then Arjen was gonna get shot up, seeing as words wasn't working. It was self defense, and Marco would rather Kelly live than the idiot trying to get them both killed for no reason. "Grr- Fuck it!"
Marco's thumb flicked the safety to burst as his finger squeezed.
*DAKKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA!*
Juliette came back, right on time. Sort of. She didn't come back with Kelly, who'd apparently fell off of the boat. Well that was a fucked set of circumstances happening at coincidentally the worst moment they could happen. Good news was, Marco didn't have to deal with crybaby Arjen anymore. Bad news was, he either had to worry about fishing Kelly out the ocean, or finding a dead body for the first time in his life.
"What hap-" Good news was no longer good news, as crybaby Arjen finally decided to take Marco's advice and be a bit more proactive. That wasn't as good as it seemed though, mostly because of one simple, very clear cut issue. ARJEN WAS BLAMING MARCO! ARJEN WAS GRABBING MARCO!
ARJEN!
WAS!
OFF!
HIS!
SHIT!
Marco turned his head as Arjen knocked the glasses right off of his face, sending them skidding somewhere on the boat. Marco could see Arjen, Juliette, and most of the boat just fine, but the grass of the island lost definition as the tree line blurred together. He felt Arjen try shoving him back as Marco struggled to wrestle him off. It was hard as shit with one free hand, seeing as the other wasn't gonna let Arjen anywhere near his rifle, the fucking psycho. "Hrrrgh! Get off of me you fucking C.H.U.D!" This was really getting on his nerves. Marco was certain he could hear Kelly's cries for help behind Arjen's High-Octane-Tard-Rage, and either the daft fuck was too stupid to hear it, or just plain didn't care.
...Fuck. Arjen, you better not be doi- THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS! HE'S USING KELLY AS AN EXCUSE TO SUICIDE-BY-MARCO! THE ABSOLUTE NERVE! Now, Marco had two fucking choices. One, he could spend all day wrestling with Arjen while Kelly probably drowns, or two, he could get Arjen off of him and go help Kelly. Number two was better, but the problem was it was really fucking difficult to do, and Juliette didn't seem like she was helping. "She's not dead! Let go!" He had something in his free hand that could end this very, very quick. But did he want to use it? No. Did he have to use it, though?
Marco realized he probably wasn't getting out of this, at least physically. He wasn't graced with the Cro-Magnon Carter genes after all. Did he have to use it? Yes. Kelly didn't have to drown, and Arjen didn't have to get shot the fuck up, but if Kelly were to not drown, then Arjen was gonna get shot up, seeing as words wasn't working. It was self defense, and Marco would rather Kelly live than the idiot trying to get them both killed for no reason. "Grr- Fuck it!"
Marco's thumb flicked the safety to burst as his finger squeezed.
*DAKKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA!*