Buckingham Green
Day 2, Open
Buckingham Green
((Jacob Lang continued from Cold Blows the Wind))
Jacob stared bleary-eyed into the morning sky as he trudged down the beach, slowly making his way back down to the site of yesterday's confrontation. His whole body felt like it was made of lead - not only was he operating on zero sleep, but all the running around from the previous night had sapped most of his energy. It was honestly a miracle that he had made it back without collapsing into the snow. Still, regardless of how he had managed it, he was here, and if he knew what was good for him, he'd spend as little time at this place as possible.
The words of the morning's announcement still echoed in his ears, the mocking bite of the announcer's voice making the broadcasting of his crime all the more painful to listen to. There was no way to soften the thought - he had fucked up. Of all the mistakes he had made in his life, this one stood above everything else, a practical monument to his stupidity. Where could he even go from here? Back home, he had revelled in other people's hatred, but back home, the retaliation options available to those people were much more limited. Here, it would be easy for so many of his classmates to just take him out, and he had just given any of them more than enough justification to do so. No matter how hard he wracked his brain for solutions to that problem, no good ones seemed to come to mind.
The sight of a crumpled form upon the rocks ahead put a quick pause to that pondering, at the expense of a far worse thought. It wasn't long before his suspicions were confirmed, and he found himself staring down into the lifeless eyes of what was once Spike Havighurst. A wave of nausea rushed over him as he knelt down beside the corpse, poking gingerly at it as he looked for the blade that he still vividly remembered glinting in the sunlight as it stuck out of his classmate's chest. Jacob swallowed dryly as he grabbed Spike's wrist, gingerly beginning to lift the hand off of his chest before remembering the words of the announcer stating that he had removed the knife before bleeding out. Sighing, he let go of the object, muttering a quick "Sorry". It was kind of dumb, yeah, after all - it wasn't like Spike had any way of hearing it, and even if he did, it wasn't like any forgiveness would be forthcoming. Still, Jacob still felt like he had to say something, and well, as things stood his exhausted brain couldn't really think of anything better.
A quick scan of the area around the body soon revealed the object that he had came here for, lying just outside the pool of blood. Jacob leaned over and picked it up, gripping the dripping blade between his thumb and his forefinger as he stared at it for a moment in a daze. It took a fair amount of willpower not to just drop it onto the ground and run away again, but he knew that doing so would only make things worse for him in the long run. Holding the bloody knife away from his body, he carried it over to the water and stuck it beneath the tide, doing his best to wash the blood off without cutting himself in the process.
Jacob stared bleary-eyed into the morning sky as he trudged down the beach, slowly making his way back down to the site of yesterday's confrontation. His whole body felt like it was made of lead - not only was he operating on zero sleep, but all the running around from the previous night had sapped most of his energy. It was honestly a miracle that he had made it back without collapsing into the snow. Still, regardless of how he had managed it, he was here, and if he knew what was good for him, he'd spend as little time at this place as possible.
The words of the morning's announcement still echoed in his ears, the mocking bite of the announcer's voice making the broadcasting of his crime all the more painful to listen to. There was no way to soften the thought - he had fucked up. Of all the mistakes he had made in his life, this one stood above everything else, a practical monument to his stupidity. Where could he even go from here? Back home, he had revelled in other people's hatred, but back home, the retaliation options available to those people were much more limited. Here, it would be easy for so many of his classmates to just take him out, and he had just given any of them more than enough justification to do so. No matter how hard he wracked his brain for solutions to that problem, no good ones seemed to come to mind.
The sight of a crumpled form upon the rocks ahead put a quick pause to that pondering, at the expense of a far worse thought. It wasn't long before his suspicions were confirmed, and he found himself staring down into the lifeless eyes of what was once Spike Havighurst. A wave of nausea rushed over him as he knelt down beside the corpse, poking gingerly at it as he looked for the blade that he still vividly remembered glinting in the sunlight as it stuck out of his classmate's chest. Jacob swallowed dryly as he grabbed Spike's wrist, gingerly beginning to lift the hand off of his chest before remembering the words of the announcer stating that he had removed the knife before bleeding out. Sighing, he let go of the object, muttering a quick "Sorry". It was kind of dumb, yeah, after all - it wasn't like Spike had any way of hearing it, and even if he did, it wasn't like any forgiveness would be forthcoming. Still, Jacob still felt like he had to say something, and well, as things stood his exhausted brain couldn't really think of anything better.
A quick scan of the area around the body soon revealed the object that he had came here for, lying just outside the pool of blood. Jacob leaned over and picked it up, gripping the dripping blade between his thumb and his forefinger as he stared at it for a moment in a daze. It took a fair amount of willpower not to just drop it onto the ground and run away again, but he knew that doing so would only make things worse for him in the long run. Holding the bloody knife away from his body, he carried it over to the water and stuck it beneath the tide, doing his best to wash the blood off without cutting himself in the process.
- Ruggahissy
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Heavy footsteps meant that his approach was not discrete as the wet crunching sound approaching Jacob.
He stopped, looked down at the scene, at Jacob gingerly holding up the blade that dripped in old, dark blood.
"Um. What happened here?"
((Colm Forsyth continued from Percussion ))
Colm had deposited Quinn near her pick-up point, which was not very far from where they had made camp, with an agreement to see each other again by end of day. He still wasn't sure what he thought about that or of her or of what was the right thing to do. Would it be better to be compassionate to her, a person who was trying her best in the way she thought was best? Would it be best to stay with her and prevent her from killing another classmate, thus becoming a sort of leash? Was that even his problem to resign himself to such a role?
Jacob was an asshole, to put it plainly. And he was one that their captors said had murdered the previous day. But maybe by doing a bit of investigation, this could be a way to refute Quinn's point. Maybe Jacob had murdered and was a dickhead, but wasn't a danger.
And if it didn't support his argument, he could just pretend he never saw him.
Colm gripped his splitting maul near his chest, not ready to swing but still alert.
He stopped, looked down at the scene, at Jacob gingerly holding up the blade that dripped in old, dark blood.
"Um. What happened here?"
((Colm Forsyth continued from Percussion ))
Colm had deposited Quinn near her pick-up point, which was not very far from where they had made camp, with an agreement to see each other again by end of day. He still wasn't sure what he thought about that or of her or of what was the right thing to do. Would it be better to be compassionate to her, a person who was trying her best in the way she thought was best? Would it be best to stay with her and prevent her from killing another classmate, thus becoming a sort of leash? Was that even his problem to resign himself to such a role?
Jacob was an asshole, to put it plainly. And he was one that their captors said had murdered the previous day. But maybe by doing a bit of investigation, this could be a way to refute Quinn's point. Maybe Jacob had murdered and was a dickhead, but wasn't a danger.
And if it didn't support his argument, he could just pretend he never saw him.
Colm gripped his splitting maul near his chest, not ready to swing but still alert.
Jacob felt his heart stop for a moment as his task was interrupted by the unwelcome appearance of one of his classmates. He pulled the not yet clean enough knife from under the water, painfully aware of the splotches of dried blood which still stubbornly clung to its blade. He should have known that it wouldn't be this easy - after all, nothing had gone his way so far on this goddamned island thus far, so why would it have any reason to change now? Still, not being surprised by the situation didn't help much with getting out of it. He took a deep breath as slowly rose to his feet and turned to face the direction of the voice, the hand with the knife hanging limply as his side.
His slow turn ended with the imposing sight of yet another fucking gigantic kid, the surprise causing him to take an involuntary step backwards. Seriously, what were they feeding people at this school? And more importantly, why wasn't he getting any of it? All these questions and more would be forced to remain unanswered, perhaps forever, pushed below the realm of conscious thought by the more pressing question that hung in the air between them, the silence getting more uncomfortable by the second.
The way he saw it, there were two possible ways that he could respond to this. There was always the chance that cowering and begging for mercy would do the trick. As dickish as some of the people at school could be, he doubted that Colm was psychotic enough to just execute someone who clearly posed no threat to him at the moment, especially given that the announcements had made it clear that he hadn't killed anyone yet. That said, there were a lot of ways this guy could fuck him over besides killing him - stealing his stuff being the big one. Now, Jacob knew pretty well that his odds of survival were already pretty low, and giving someone else the ability to lower those even further was far from appealing.
The other option would be to somehow make it appear like messing with him would be more trouble than it was worth. Obviously, physical intimidation was off the table here - Colm was bigger and stronger, and also was in possession of the more dangerous weapon. However, size wasn't everything. It was always possible that if he came off as unhinged enough, sparking any conflict with him would seem like the sub-optimal play. After all, rabid dogs weren't exactly the strongest things around, but everyone still gave them a wide berth regardless. (The fact that his personal skillset already lay in the area of saying stupid shit ) His mind made up, he took a step forward again and began to ramble, gesturing with his hands for emphasis.
"Well, uh, a certain someone and his pals decided that they were gonna steal my stuff, and, like, I had to defend myself, right? There I was, dodging and weaving as those goons kept wailing on me while I was hanging on for my life in the, er, three-on-one fight. Eventually he had me pinned up against a rock, and he was slapping me back and forth across the face. Luckily, I managed to get one good stab in, like this, but it got kinda stuck inside, you know? While they were all panicking, I made an, er, tactical retreat and came back later to get my knife back, since it wasn't like he was going to be running off with it like he wanted to do with my stuff." Jacob shook his head sadly. " He really should have known better than to start something with a proficient fighter such as myself."
A brief sense of guilt began to wiggle into his mind, raising the possibility that he could have just been honest and said it was an accident. He pushed it back as best as he could - if his brain wanted him to have done that, it should have brought it up earlier.
His slow turn ended with the imposing sight of yet another fucking gigantic kid, the surprise causing him to take an involuntary step backwards. Seriously, what were they feeding people at this school? And more importantly, why wasn't he getting any of it? All these questions and more would be forced to remain unanswered, perhaps forever, pushed below the realm of conscious thought by the more pressing question that hung in the air between them, the silence getting more uncomfortable by the second.
The way he saw it, there were two possible ways that he could respond to this. There was always the chance that cowering and begging for mercy would do the trick. As dickish as some of the people at school could be, he doubted that Colm was psychotic enough to just execute someone who clearly posed no threat to him at the moment, especially given that the announcements had made it clear that he hadn't killed anyone yet. That said, there were a lot of ways this guy could fuck him over besides killing him - stealing his stuff being the big one. Now, Jacob knew pretty well that his odds of survival were already pretty low, and giving someone else the ability to lower those even further was far from appealing.
The other option would be to somehow make it appear like messing with him would be more trouble than it was worth. Obviously, physical intimidation was off the table here - Colm was bigger and stronger, and also was in possession of the more dangerous weapon. However, size wasn't everything. It was always possible that if he came off as unhinged enough, sparking any conflict with him would seem like the sub-optimal play. After all, rabid dogs weren't exactly the strongest things around, but everyone still gave them a wide berth regardless. (The fact that his personal skillset already lay in the area of saying stupid shit ) His mind made up, he took a step forward again and began to ramble, gesturing with his hands for emphasis.
"Well, uh, a certain someone and his pals decided that they were gonna steal my stuff, and, like, I had to defend myself, right? There I was, dodging and weaving as those goons kept wailing on me while I was hanging on for my life in the, er, three-on-one fight. Eventually he had me pinned up against a rock, and he was slapping me back and forth across the face. Luckily, I managed to get one good stab in, like this, but it got kinda stuck inside, you know? While they were all panicking, I made an, er, tactical retreat and came back later to get my knife back, since it wasn't like he was going to be running off with it like he wanted to do with my stuff." Jacob shook his head sadly. " He really should have known better than to start something with a proficient fighter such as myself."
A brief sense of guilt began to wiggle into his mind, raising the possibility that he could have just been honest and said it was an accident. He pushed it back as best as he could - if his brain wanted him to have done that, it should have brought it up earlier.
- Ruggahissy
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"Woowww," Calm drawled out. "You're so brave. So thrilling. Three on one wailing on you? What an adventure you took me on. Show me the world, daddy," he said with light flirtation in his voice.
Colm sat on a rock and rested the axe across his lap, assessing Jacob.
"Who hurt you? I mean, emotionally. You look fine, so I don't mean physically," he said, pointing his to Jacob's uninjured face.
Colm figured perhaps Jacob was used to dealing with idiots, which he was not. Or perhaps he wanted to play, in which case, he was game. It might be beneficial after the day he had had.
Colm smiled and scrunched up his nose.
Colm sat on a rock and rested the axe across his lap, assessing Jacob.
"Who hurt you? I mean, emotionally. You look fine, so I don't mean physically," he said, pointing his to Jacob's uninjured face.
Colm figured perhaps Jacob was used to dealing with idiots, which he was not. Or perhaps he wanted to play, in which case, he was game. It might be beneficial after the day he had had.
Colm smiled and scrunched up his nose.
Jacob cocked his head far to the side in an exaggerated motion as he watched Colm take his seat. This guy really wasn't taking this too seriously, considering the subject matter of their conversation, but that was fine. Of all the possible responses to hearing about an actual honest-to-god murder (where the corpse was lying right next to them, no less), sarcastic amusement was one of the better ones. He could work with this.
"Who hurt me? You mean, other than the squad of assholes who kidnapped me and dropped me off in this hellhole? Or the so-called classmates who tried to rob me yesterday?" He paused for a moment, looking upwards to think, his mind racing through various half-remembered speeches and monologues he had seen, trying to grab onto the words bouncing around the inside of his skull. "I mean, well, this whole 'living in a society' thing hasn't been too great. Like, take high school, for instance. Day in, day out, I have to witness before my very eyes the most tragic of nature's mistakes - the average teenager. Physically unremarkable, it, uh... uh..."
He swallowed dryly, annoyed at himself for forgetting the words so early in. The smile dropped briefly from his face as he began to pace the beach. With his rhythm thrown off, he decided to just jump back in at the closest point he could remember. It wasn't like this was going to make sense anyway. "Like, most repulsive of all are its frail and useless notions of order and sanity. If too much weight is placed upon them... they snap. How does it live, you ask? I'm afraid the sad answer is, 'not very well'." He paused again, once more forgetting what the next part was.
Screw it, he had wanted to act crazy, but this was getting excessive, even for him. Better to cut it off here before he got any more over-the-top ideas, like having a conversation with his weapon or something. “Worst of all, they deal with it by taking their frustrations out on me, the only honest man inhabiting the blessed commonwealth of Massachusetts." It was at this point that the embarrassment had finally begun to catch up with him, the pressure rising to allow himself to breathe and pawn off the conversation to the nearest other person - even if it was just to laugh. Acting a little recklessly, he took a step towards Colm, waving the knife in his general direction.
"What about you, big boy? Anyone been hurting you? Besides the obvious, of course."
"Who hurt me? You mean, other than the squad of assholes who kidnapped me and dropped me off in this hellhole? Or the so-called classmates who tried to rob me yesterday?" He paused for a moment, looking upwards to think, his mind racing through various half-remembered speeches and monologues he had seen, trying to grab onto the words bouncing around the inside of his skull. "I mean, well, this whole 'living in a society' thing hasn't been too great. Like, take high school, for instance. Day in, day out, I have to witness before my very eyes the most tragic of nature's mistakes - the average teenager. Physically unremarkable, it, uh... uh..."
He swallowed dryly, annoyed at himself for forgetting the words so early in. The smile dropped briefly from his face as he began to pace the beach. With his rhythm thrown off, he decided to just jump back in at the closest point he could remember. It wasn't like this was going to make sense anyway. "Like, most repulsive of all are its frail and useless notions of order and sanity. If too much weight is placed upon them... they snap. How does it live, you ask? I'm afraid the sad answer is, 'not very well'." He paused again, once more forgetting what the next part was.
Screw it, he had wanted to act crazy, but this was getting excessive, even for him. Better to cut it off here before he got any more over-the-top ideas, like having a conversation with his weapon or something. “Worst of all, they deal with it by taking their frustrations out on me, the only honest man inhabiting the blessed commonwealth of Massachusetts." It was at this point that the embarrassment had finally begun to catch up with him, the pressure rising to allow himself to breathe and pawn off the conversation to the nearest other person - even if it was just to laugh. Acting a little recklessly, he took a step towards Colm, waving the knife in his general direction.
"What about you, big boy? Anyone been hurting you? Besides the obvious, of course."
- Ruggahissy
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Colm stared impassively as Jacob started on his monologue, which seemed to have a few bumps in it as he went along where he appeared to forget his lines. At certain points Colm struggled to keep his face neutral, at first trying not to laugh at Jacob's blaming of the ever-present menace of SOCIETY and then -- almost out of empathy -- trying not to grimace slightly when the other boy stumbled.
Finally, at the conclusion, Colm grinned wryly.
"The only honest man in all of Massachusetts, huh? Maybe you could make an honest man of me too," he said in an increasingly low tone, smirking.
"I prefer the term 'husk-ular', but I can make an exception for the only honest man, little guy," he responded.
But Jacob advanced with the knife. Colm sat a little straighter and tightened his hold on his weapon in a manner that wasn't threatening, but was prepared just in case.
"I've been OK, considering the circumstances" he said in response to the question. "....You sure you don't wanna try again and tell me what happened?"
Colm thought to himself maybe there actually was something wrong with his brain, given how much leeway he was giving these various dicey classmates of his.
Finally, at the conclusion, Colm grinned wryly.
"The only honest man in all of Massachusetts, huh? Maybe you could make an honest man of me too," he said in an increasingly low tone, smirking.
"I prefer the term 'husk-ular', but I can make an exception for the only honest man, little guy," he responded.
But Jacob advanced with the knife. Colm sat a little straighter and tightened his hold on his weapon in a manner that wasn't threatening, but was prepared just in case.
"I've been OK, considering the circumstances" he said in response to the question. "....You sure you don't wanna try again and tell me what happened?"
Colm thought to himself maybe there actually was something wrong with his brain, given how much leeway he was giving these various dicey classmates of his.
Jacob gazed at Colm with a curious expression, momentarily unsure of how to proceed, given that the initial reaction he had received was not seemingly like one that he could evolve into something more useful any time soon. His initial goal of coming off as dangerously insane was by now seeming fairly unachievable, and though coming off as a joke seemed to have worked in taking Colm's guard down, it still did leave him in a rather precarious position, given that Colm was still attempting to prod out a real explanation from him. Admitting the truth that this was all an accident was an option, though not really one that made Jacob feel very good. After all, he had been acting like a massive asshole back there, and, besides, there was no way to explain how getting surprised by a gunman randomly jumping out from behind a rock led to him burying his knife in the Spike's chest without revealing the weapon's... unusual gimmick. The range on it was his ace in the hole here, and who knows how Colm would react to the information, especially given how Jacob had already pointed the knife at him a couple times during their conversation.
He let out a quiet sigh, looking away from Colm as the internal frustration continued to build inside of him. Why did this have to be so hard? He hated how powerless he felt here. Back home, when all that they had was words, he was well armed enough to play around with those he met, at least for a while, but now anybody who wanted to could just take their terrorist-issue weapon, whatever it may be, and shut him up for good. It wasn't fair. He wanted so badly to be able to poke and prod, to get the rush that he was used to, but doing that had already put him close to getting killed multiple times, and he didn't know how much more he could do before his luck actually ran out. If the insanity gambit had worked, maybe he could have gotten something close to the same feeling, but now even that small pleasure had been robbed from him.
The smart thing here would be to make a break for it while Colm was still sitting, but... that would mean just going back to wandering the wilderness alone, waiting for his boredom to be interrupted by someone who wasn't nearly so chill. He had to stay just a little bit longer, to make it worth his time. His initial fears of being abused for his actions were seeming surprisingly premature. The lack of consequences was coming off as a little disturbing, but all the better for him, he supposed. Besides, if his initial impressions turned out to be correct, he still had a surprise attack if things went downhill, and he probably could make a fairly clean getaway from a seated guy if he had to.
Anyway, changing the subject seemed like his best option here. Jacob did his best to force a smile onto his face and continue speaking with too much stumbling this time.
"Husk-ular, huh? I gotta say, never heard that word before. Husks are, like, the outside of plants, like the green stuff on the outside of corn cobs that everyone always just throws out? Props to you for the honesty, like, it's not often people admit to being as useless and unwanted as the least tasty part of a fruit or vegetable, but, uh, well, you know how it is. Probably best not to be too harsh on yourself though, gotta leave some room for the rest of us, right?"
He let out a quiet sigh, looking away from Colm as the internal frustration continued to build inside of him. Why did this have to be so hard? He hated how powerless he felt here. Back home, when all that they had was words, he was well armed enough to play around with those he met, at least for a while, but now anybody who wanted to could just take their terrorist-issue weapon, whatever it may be, and shut him up for good. It wasn't fair. He wanted so badly to be able to poke and prod, to get the rush that he was used to, but doing that had already put him close to getting killed multiple times, and he didn't know how much more he could do before his luck actually ran out. If the insanity gambit had worked, maybe he could have gotten something close to the same feeling, but now even that small pleasure had been robbed from him.
The smart thing here would be to make a break for it while Colm was still sitting, but... that would mean just going back to wandering the wilderness alone, waiting for his boredom to be interrupted by someone who wasn't nearly so chill. He had to stay just a little bit longer, to make it worth his time. His initial fears of being abused for his actions were seeming surprisingly premature. The lack of consequences was coming off as a little disturbing, but all the better for him, he supposed. Besides, if his initial impressions turned out to be correct, he still had a surprise attack if things went downhill, and he probably could make a fairly clean getaway from a seated guy if he had to.
Anyway, changing the subject seemed like his best option here. Jacob did his best to force a smile onto his face and continue speaking with too much stumbling this time.
"Husk-ular, huh? I gotta say, never heard that word before. Husks are, like, the outside of plants, like the green stuff on the outside of corn cobs that everyone always just throws out? Props to you for the honesty, like, it's not often people admit to being as useless and unwanted as the least tasty part of a fruit or vegetable, but, uh, well, you know how it is. Probably best not to be too harsh on yourself though, gotta leave some room for the rest of us, right?"
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Colm watched as Jacob stared at him quizzically, sighed, turned away and shuffled a bit.
He put a hand up with his thumb under his chin and index finger on his lips. Jacob didn't want to say what had happened, but that didn't mean Colm couldn't puzzle the truth out from the surrounding evidence or at least get close to it.
When Colm had walked up to the scene, Jacob had just finished washing the knife off in the ocean. He had been hunched over when he approached, stood with knife in hand, and hand and weapon were wet. He was still over the body of Spike, whom the announcements said he had killed. Either he'd been hanging out near this body since the previous day and was just now for some reason washing the weapon, hours later, or he had returned here.
There was no evidence that he'd stayed here over night. His things were not unpacked and there was no sign of camping on the beach. Ergo, he had stabbed Spike, left the knife, and returned today for it.
If Jacob had left the knife in the body, the most logical conclusion had been that he had run off after the deed.
Colm looked at the ground and noticed the partly faded evidence of several pairs of footprints. There had indeed been more than just Spike and Jacob here, though he wasn't sure of the numbers.
Jacob was either approached by or approached Spike and someone else. Jacob stabbed Spike, then fled, and now returned for the weapon. But he told a lie about the group beating him up when he was clearly unharmed to make himself seem tough. It wasn't as if he was trying to make himself seem LESS culpable. Ergo, the truth was likely he was less culpable. So maybe the group did threaten him or maybe he made them angry, tensions went up one way or the other, then Jacob either accidentally or in a panic stabbed Spike. Finally, he ran away.
If Jacob told Colm the truth, it would make him look like a weenie. And that explained Jacob's frustrated, disappointed reaction.
It makes sense thought Colm. Was this a win for him? It was a partial win at least against Betty's hypothesis. Jacob was not the profile of someone who was good and altruistic, had killed someone, and yet was probably not a further danger unless pushed or cornered.
Colm continued thinking about what this scenario meant to his and Betty's discussion when Jacob spoke again. Colm raised his eyebrows.
He wasn't a person who angered easily or quickly. Being a bigger guy inevitably meant some asshole wanted to start a fight with you just because you were big. Colm largely did not want to fight and instead wanted to finish his meal or buy his hat or whatever. Or if some kind of fight was going down a passersby would look at you like "Uh, you need to step in" just because you were bigger, and he truthfully was put off about it every time.
But Jacob looked so disappointed, Colm figured maybe he could raise his spirits by playing along a little.
"Hey!" he responded, doing his best impression of anger. "That's pretty fuckin' rude, small fry."
The anger expression on his face softened a bit.
Probably best not to be too harsh on yourself though, gotta leave some room for the rest of us, right?
"Maybe you have a suggestion for how to make myself useful. I can think of some things. Like you said, I've got room for you," he said, a bit deviously.
He put a hand up with his thumb under his chin and index finger on his lips. Jacob didn't want to say what had happened, but that didn't mean Colm couldn't puzzle the truth out from the surrounding evidence or at least get close to it.
When Colm had walked up to the scene, Jacob had just finished washing the knife off in the ocean. He had been hunched over when he approached, stood with knife in hand, and hand and weapon were wet. He was still over the body of Spike, whom the announcements said he had killed. Either he'd been hanging out near this body since the previous day and was just now for some reason washing the weapon, hours later, or he had returned here.
There was no evidence that he'd stayed here over night. His things were not unpacked and there was no sign of camping on the beach. Ergo, he had stabbed Spike, left the knife, and returned today for it.
If Jacob had left the knife in the body, the most logical conclusion had been that he had run off after the deed.
Colm looked at the ground and noticed the partly faded evidence of several pairs of footprints. There had indeed been more than just Spike and Jacob here, though he wasn't sure of the numbers.
Jacob was either approached by or approached Spike and someone else. Jacob stabbed Spike, then fled, and now returned for the weapon. But he told a lie about the group beating him up when he was clearly unharmed to make himself seem tough. It wasn't as if he was trying to make himself seem LESS culpable. Ergo, the truth was likely he was less culpable. So maybe the group did threaten him or maybe he made them angry, tensions went up one way or the other, then Jacob either accidentally or in a panic stabbed Spike. Finally, he ran away.
If Jacob told Colm the truth, it would make him look like a weenie. And that explained Jacob's frustrated, disappointed reaction.
It makes sense thought Colm. Was this a win for him? It was a partial win at least against Betty's hypothesis. Jacob was not the profile of someone who was good and altruistic, had killed someone, and yet was probably not a further danger unless pushed or cornered.
Colm continued thinking about what this scenario meant to his and Betty's discussion when Jacob spoke again. Colm raised his eyebrows.
He wasn't a person who angered easily or quickly. Being a bigger guy inevitably meant some asshole wanted to start a fight with you just because you were big. Colm largely did not want to fight and instead wanted to finish his meal or buy his hat or whatever. Or if some kind of fight was going down a passersby would look at you like "Uh, you need to step in" just because you were bigger, and he truthfully was put off about it every time.
But Jacob looked so disappointed, Colm figured maybe he could raise his spirits by playing along a little.
"Hey!" he responded, doing his best impression of anger. "That's pretty fuckin' rude, small fry."
The anger expression on his face softened a bit.
Probably best not to be too harsh on yourself though, gotta leave some room for the rest of us, right?
"Maybe you have a suggestion for how to make myself useful. I can think of some things. Like you said, I've got room for you," he said, a bit deviously.
As stupid as it was, Jacob couldn't deny that he felt a sense of childish glee at the reaction he got. It wasn't enough to fully make up for the last couple of days, but little moments like this definitely did ease the sting a little bit. It was like they always said: beggars couldn't be choosers. Or at least, that was what his memory told them that they said, which hadn't been the more reliable asset of his, at least recently. He'd have to forgive that little indiscretion, for now at least, but the little men managing the filing cabinets inside his head had better get their act together if they didn't want to end up getting fired, or worse, having to suffer through his internal monologue again devolving into references to Spongebob Squarepants.
More important, however, was the offer that he had just received, or at least the tantalizing yet ominous forewarning of a proposal that was soon to make its way out of Colm's mouth. The thought brought back an uncomfortable memory of his encounter with that girl at the snowfield, and though he was at much less of a disadvantage here with Colm than with her, the possibility still put him slightly on edge. He wanted to run, but at the same time... he wanted to stay. A confusing, maybe even irrational combination of feelings to be sure, but in a situation like this, well, decisions were hard. After a brief weighing of his options, and finding himself confronted with a choice between potential danger and certain boredom... he didn't choose the boredom.
Jacob shrugged and looked over the Colm, trying his best to maintain the character he had been playing up until this point. "Room for me where? You gonna try and eat me or something? You don't honestly look like a gourmet, but, uh, I'll have you know that you'd definitely be in for a bad experience. I'm way too chewy."
More important, however, was the offer that he had just received, or at least the tantalizing yet ominous forewarning of a proposal that was soon to make its way out of Colm's mouth. The thought brought back an uncomfortable memory of his encounter with that girl at the snowfield, and though he was at much less of a disadvantage here with Colm than with her, the possibility still put him slightly on edge. He wanted to run, but at the same time... he wanted to stay. A confusing, maybe even irrational combination of feelings to be sure, but in a situation like this, well, decisions were hard. After a brief weighing of his options, and finding himself confronted with a choice between potential danger and certain boredom... he didn't choose the boredom.
Jacob shrugged and looked over the Colm, trying his best to maintain the character he had been playing up until this point. "Room for me where? You gonna try and eat me or something? You don't honestly look like a gourmet, but, uh, I'll have you know that you'd definitely be in for a bad experience. I'm way too chewy."
- Ruggahissy
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Colm remained sitting and looked mildly confused.
He looked to the left, then looked to the right, before looking back up at Jacob with a perplexed half-frown. Colm opened his mouth for a moment as if about to say something, then closed it.
"Hm."
He squinted briefly as if trying to to solve a riddle.
Colm had got what he came for, even if Jacob hadn't cooperated and even obstructed a little in Colm's search of the truth of what happened, so at least he had gotten something from the interaction.
Does he know? Does he not know? OK. One more go and then if I still don't know if HE knows, I'm going to clear this up out of a sense of moral obligation.
"I... After a manner. Chewy? Well, it would be bad manners to use my teeth," he said, still in a somewhat low tone of voice, but a little less sure than before. He raised his eyebrows waiting to see the outcome.
He looked to the left, then looked to the right, before looking back up at Jacob with a perplexed half-frown. Colm opened his mouth for a moment as if about to say something, then closed it.
"Hm."
He squinted briefly as if trying to to solve a riddle.
Colm had got what he came for, even if Jacob hadn't cooperated and even obstructed a little in Colm's search of the truth of what happened, so at least he had gotten something from the interaction.
Does he know? Does he not know? OK. One more go and then if I still don't know if HE knows, I'm going to clear this up out of a sense of moral obligation.
"I... After a manner. Chewy? Well, it would be bad manners to use my teeth," he said, still in a somewhat low tone of voice, but a little less sure than before. He raised his eyebrows waiting to see the outcome.
It was hard to tell if Colm had misinterpreted the joke, or if he was actually making one of his own and Jacob was in fact the one who wasn't getting it. You never could tell for sure with these sorts of things, though Jacob was beginning to suspect that it may have been a little bit too much to expect this guy to interpret Are you going to try to eat me? as Haha, you're fat!, despite how prickly a lot of other people were in regards to the subject. Good on him for not being insecure about it, perhaps.
That said, though it would be possible to continue on and try to continue on with picking out words from Colm's sentences to throw back as insults, that genre of material was already getting a bit stale, at least in Jacob's mind, and the risk existed that continuing with low effort jabs would make him come up as a desperate flail for a reaction that anything actually interesting. It'd be better to push forward a bit and see what idea this guy actually had, and then continue from there.
Jacob sniffed as he raised his arm and wiped it against his nose before lowering it to place the knife (or at least as of it as he could fit) into his pocket, the playful tone briefly departing from his voice. "Yeah, I'll bet it would. Seriously though, what do you actually have in mind?"
That said, though it would be possible to continue on and try to continue on with picking out words from Colm's sentences to throw back as insults, that genre of material was already getting a bit stale, at least in Jacob's mind, and the risk existed that continuing with low effort jabs would make him come up as a desperate flail for a reaction that anything actually interesting. It'd be better to push forward a bit and see what idea this guy actually had, and then continue from there.
Jacob sniffed as he raised his arm and wiped it against his nose before lowering it to place the knife (or at least as of it as he could fit) into his pocket, the playful tone briefly departing from his voice. "Yeah, I'll bet it would. Seriously though, what do you actually have in mind?"
- Ruggahissy
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Colm looked up from his seated position at Jacob. He finally put away the knife. Colm wasn't really threatened by it, but it shifted a sort of change in how Jacob must have thought about him. He was no longer on his guard for violence.
Jacob asked what it was he was after and Colm wasn't sure if he meant what with the last exchange or why he'd walked up and tried to ascertain what happened. But the question kind of kicked his brain off its current light-hearted track and back to the frozen beach with a corpse on the ground next to them. The hand of the corpse came into sharper focus at the edge of his vision.
"Oh. Right." he said sternly. "Suspension of insults --" he pointed at Jacob "-- and gay come ons," he pointed to himself. "Because I need to tell you something. You have to be careful of Betty Quinn. She told me she wants to limit killing by killing people who seemed uncooperative or selfish or immoral or at home and who prove to be violent here. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think that you make the cut -- especially since Spike... Well, based on what you said and what I concluded from the evidence here, I think that death was an accident or you got cornered. I think her arguments are flawed because I don't think you're a danger. But... She may kill you if she finds you."
The waves crashed. Gulls cried.
Jacob asked what it was he was after and Colm wasn't sure if he meant what with the last exchange or why he'd walked up and tried to ascertain what happened. But the question kind of kicked his brain off its current light-hearted track and back to the frozen beach with a corpse on the ground next to them. The hand of the corpse came into sharper focus at the edge of his vision.
"Oh. Right." he said sternly. "Suspension of insults --" he pointed at Jacob "-- and gay come ons," he pointed to himself. "Because I need to tell you something. You have to be careful of Betty Quinn. She told me she wants to limit killing by killing people who seemed uncooperative or selfish or immoral or at home and who prove to be violent here. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think that you make the cut -- especially since Spike... Well, based on what you said and what I concluded from the evidence here, I think that death was an accident or you got cornered. I think her arguments are flawed because I don't think you're a danger. But... She may kill you if she finds you."
The waves crashed. Gulls cried.
Jacob stared forward blankly as Colm's words hung in the air. Despite how horrible the knowledge was, Jacob couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief to know that his initial paranoia had not been misplaced. Like, not that it made it any less pants-shittingly terrifying, but there was something validating about knowing that his brain was working correctly, and that the impression that he had about just how screwed he was hadn't just been an overreaction. In the end, however, that validation wouldn't be of much use once Betty or anyone else came to make good on their threats.
As for Colm... Jacob took a deep breath, turning his face away for a moment while he thought about this. No matter what provocations Jacob threw at him, Colm seemed to take them like a champ, and not by ignoring him either, but by actually throwing back some funny banter of his own. Though it wouldn't do to jump to premature conclusions, it might be the case that Jacob had run into one of the rare breed of people who could tolerate his presence, and after how badly he had fucked things up with Spike, meeting someone like that felt like a second chance being handed to him. Being around a guy like that who had both a decent weapon and no desire to use it on Jacob seemed like actually a decent bet at increasing his chances of survival.
Unfortunately, while the idea was tempting, Jacob knew that it wouldn't work out. Even if they were doing alright talking to each other now, there wasn't any way he'd be able to ask Colm if they could travel together. Ignoring the fact that doing that would be an admission of weakness far worse than anything Jacob had done so far, the truth was that Colm had no reason to take him. Jacob was well aware that there was little he could offer in exchange. His weapon wasn't great, his physical prowess was unremarkable to say the least, and worst of all, travelling together would mean the practical guarantee of hostile interactions with other classmates, which went without saying would be pretty bad for Colm's own survival chances.
With that decided, Jacob finally coughed into his sleeve, breaking the silence before throwing out an awkward question to Colm.
"Uh, I see. Do you happen to know where she is now, by any chance?"
As for Colm... Jacob took a deep breath, turning his face away for a moment while he thought about this. No matter what provocations Jacob threw at him, Colm seemed to take them like a champ, and not by ignoring him either, but by actually throwing back some funny banter of his own. Though it wouldn't do to jump to premature conclusions, it might be the case that Jacob had run into one of the rare breed of people who could tolerate his presence, and after how badly he had fucked things up with Spike, meeting someone like that felt like a second chance being handed to him. Being around a guy like that who had both a decent weapon and no desire to use it on Jacob seemed like actually a decent bet at increasing his chances of survival.
Unfortunately, while the idea was tempting, Jacob knew that it wouldn't work out. Even if they were doing alright talking to each other now, there wasn't any way he'd be able to ask Colm if they could travel together. Ignoring the fact that doing that would be an admission of weakness far worse than anything Jacob had done so far, the truth was that Colm had no reason to take him. Jacob was well aware that there was little he could offer in exchange. His weapon wasn't great, his physical prowess was unremarkable to say the least, and worst of all, travelling together would mean the practical guarantee of hostile interactions with other classmates, which went without saying would be pretty bad for Colm's own survival chances.
With that decided, Jacob finally coughed into his sleeve, breaking the silence before throwing out an awkward question to Colm.
"Uh, I see. Do you happen to know where she is now, by any chance?"
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Colm raised his eyebrows inquisitively, watching Jacob's reaction to his warning. The boy looked almost relieved some how, or maybe he was just good at hiding his feelings or somehow looking at a bright side of things -- though Colm had no idea what that could be.
He turned away from Colm, so he could no longer see his face. Ill-advised though it was, Colm considered asking Jacob to come with him. Maybe he could find Betty and keep her at bay long enough to convinced her of his point and against her hypothesis with a living, breathing, feeling classmate in front of her.
Jacob turned back to him and then asked about Betty's whereabouts. Colm sighed and supposed Jacob didn't want to come with him. He wasn't sure his precise reasons, but it made sense he wouldn't want to go with someone who had an appointment with a person who he was just told would try to kill him.
"The announcement told her to come to the cave to pick up her prize -- you know, the one for, um, killing Oakley," he said, stumbling awkwardly over the last half of the sentence. He pulled out a map from his bag and pointed to the cave.
"We agreed to meet here on day 3 after she got her things," he said, jabbing at the map. "So that'll keep you out of her crosshairs until then at least."
Colm folded the map and put it back in his bag, then stood with his weapon.
"This... Maybe it sounds like a strange request, but do you have anything of yours I could take back to prove I spoke to you? Nothing essential like food or water, but like, I don't know, something from school? Like a sticker or an eraser or anything?"
Colm reached into his own bag and fished around, pulling out his house keys, which had a number of keychains. He pulled off a small keychain of a fuzzy brown cow, a highland cattle, and offered it. His eyebrows knit together and he couldn't quite say why, but the exchange made him emotional.
"I dunno, if you need to prove you met me," he said, looking down at the sand. "People like me, I think. Couldn't hurt."
He turned away from Colm, so he could no longer see his face. Ill-advised though it was, Colm considered asking Jacob to come with him. Maybe he could find Betty and keep her at bay long enough to convinced her of his point and against her hypothesis with a living, breathing, feeling classmate in front of her.
Jacob turned back to him and then asked about Betty's whereabouts. Colm sighed and supposed Jacob didn't want to come with him. He wasn't sure his precise reasons, but it made sense he wouldn't want to go with someone who had an appointment with a person who he was just told would try to kill him.
"The announcement told her to come to the cave to pick up her prize -- you know, the one for, um, killing Oakley," he said, stumbling awkwardly over the last half of the sentence. He pulled out a map from his bag and pointed to the cave.
"We agreed to meet here on day 3 after she got her things," he said, jabbing at the map. "So that'll keep you out of her crosshairs until then at least."
Colm folded the map and put it back in his bag, then stood with his weapon.
"This... Maybe it sounds like a strange request, but do you have anything of yours I could take back to prove I spoke to you? Nothing essential like food or water, but like, I don't know, something from school? Like a sticker or an eraser or anything?"
Colm reached into his own bag and fished around, pulling out his house keys, which had a number of keychains. He pulled off a small keychain of a fuzzy brown cow, a highland cattle, and offered it. His eyebrows knit together and he couldn't quite say why, but the exchange made him emotional.
"I dunno, if you need to prove you met me," he said, looking down at the sand. "People like me, I think. Couldn't hurt."
Jacob made a mental note to head in the opposite direction from the cave as soon as this conversation was over, doing his best to burn the image of the map into his mind. He knew the exact route he took wouldn't really matter, but at the same time, there was something comforting about focusing on such a simple thought rather than the grim reality of the fact that an unknown but non-zero number of people were currently planning on putting an end to his existence if they were ever to run into each other.
Speaking of distractions... He raised a hand, speaking quickly before dropping into a crouch and pulling open the zipper to his bag. "Sure, just give me a moment." His fingers rifled through the contents of the bag, looking through what remained of his personal possessions for the first time since arriving on this island. It took a moment, but he was soon rewarded by a flash of relief as he grabbed onto a familiar black box, bracing his arm against his knee to hold it steady as he undid the magnetic clasp holding it shut.
While he wouldn't have put it past the terrorists to try fucking with him by confiscating the contents and leaving the box, the inside appeared just as he had left it, or at least pretty close. There wasn't exactly time to count the cards, or even really be picky about which one to give. Best he could do was pick something that not too expensive or needed for play (as laughable as the latter concern was, it didn't change the fact that giving away a sideboard card just felt a lot less uncomfortable).
With the choice made, he quickly closed everything up and rose to his feet, handing over the sleeved copy of Emergency Teleport in exchange for the little cow. It wasn't the most special or interesting card in the world, but hopefully it was unique enough to act as the proof Colm needed. A brief pang of regret flashed through his mind as his grip began to loosen, not particularly for losing a possession, but more for the fact that the exchange was a final confirmation of the fact that they were, in fact, parting ways. He did his best to force a smile yet again, hoping it didn't look at fake as it felt.
"You'll put in a good word for me, right? And, uh..." He glanced over to the bloodstained ground nearby for a moment. "Probably would be a good idea to meet up with her a little further up the beach instead of next to, er, you know..."
Speaking of distractions... He raised a hand, speaking quickly before dropping into a crouch and pulling open the zipper to his bag. "Sure, just give me a moment." His fingers rifled through the contents of the bag, looking through what remained of his personal possessions for the first time since arriving on this island. It took a moment, but he was soon rewarded by a flash of relief as he grabbed onto a familiar black box, bracing his arm against his knee to hold it steady as he undid the magnetic clasp holding it shut.
While he wouldn't have put it past the terrorists to try fucking with him by confiscating the contents and leaving the box, the inside appeared just as he had left it, or at least pretty close. There wasn't exactly time to count the cards, or even really be picky about which one to give. Best he could do was pick something that not too expensive or needed for play (as laughable as the latter concern was, it didn't change the fact that giving away a sideboard card just felt a lot less uncomfortable).
With the choice made, he quickly closed everything up and rose to his feet, handing over the sleeved copy of Emergency Teleport in exchange for the little cow. It wasn't the most special or interesting card in the world, but hopefully it was unique enough to act as the proof Colm needed. A brief pang of regret flashed through his mind as his grip began to loosen, not particularly for losing a possession, but more for the fact that the exchange was a final confirmation of the fact that they were, in fact, parting ways. He did his best to force a smile yet again, hoping it didn't look at fake as it felt.
"You'll put in a good word for me, right? And, uh..." He glanced over to the bloodstained ground nearby for a moment. "Probably would be a good idea to meet up with her a little further up the beach instead of next to, er, you know..."