((Juanita Reid continued from Honor Among Thieves))
(Content warning for frank discussion of bodies, bullying, transphobia, and anatomy)
Life is unfair. It’s unfair to a lot of people, and in a lot of ways. Has been all the way along.
Juanita often felt that life had been particularly and singularly unfair to her in a number of ways, big and small, all of which she had dealt with in the same way: by resignedly chalking them up to God’s ineffable plan for The Greater Good. Unfairness made her stronger, according to God, so she should gratefully accept her travails as learning opportunities. This was a fairly sensible way of mediating the incomprehensibly unfair things, like snapping her ACL and losing her college scholarship, but it snagged a bit when dealing with the smaller, more niche unfairnesses.
Perhaps the smallest, the most singularly and uniquely unfair of the unfair things that happened to Juanita, was the fact that she happened to be named Juanita. Or, rather, the fact that she happened to be named Juanita in 2017 specifically.
As people named Eve born before June 27th, 2008 and people named Aaron, Denise, Jacqueline, or Blake before October 2012 knew all too well, society has a peculiar penchant for latching on to names that are featured in viral content, consigning them to be called “EEEEEEE-vah!” or A. A. Ron forevermore.
In Juanita’s case, it was the movie Coco, which featured a song called “Everybody knows Juanita.” The movie wasn’t one of Disney’s all-time greats, and the song was less than two minutes long. A forgettable blip in film history. But Juanita had been in her final year of middle school, and she’d heard that stupid song at least a hundred times within the first month.
One of the girls in Juanita’s grade, she didn’t know who, hadn’t liked Juanita. Could’ve been because she was a prude, because she was a show-off, because the girl’s boyfriend had stared a little too long one time. Juanita didn’t know why. Maybe there hadn’t been a reason at all. But nevertheless, this girl had, with the boundless creativity Satan bestows upon the cruel, come up with her own lyrics to the song. And they had caught on like wildfire.
Everyone knows Juanita
Her eyes each a different color
Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in
And her titties they drag on the floor…
Her hair is like a briar
She stands in a bow-legged stance
And she never strips down in public
Because there’s a dick in her pants.
The girls used to sing it to her, sometimes. Everybody knew that she changed alone, when nobody else was around. So they’d wait, and they’d sing it over the top of the door, and then they’d scamper away laughing. They probably thought she’d pull her clothes on and chase after them, instead of doing what she actually did, which was to sit there feeling dumb and ugly and hated, and try not to cry.
She still heard it, every time she got undressed. The association was there, on some fundamental level, and it had never really gone away. Most of the time she only heard the tune. She’d catch herself humming it while popping her shirt off to get in the shower, or changing before bed. But sometimes, on bad days, she’d hear the words too.
=-=-=-=-=
Juanita floated on her back, with only her face above the surface, staring up at the sky. The song kept playing in her ears. Over and over. The burble of the water did nothing at all to drown it out. This was the first time she'd heard it here on the island. Maybe because it was the first time she'd been truly alone since she woke up. It'd always been her and her legion of warriors, or her and Ash. Now it was just her.
Well, everyone knows Juanita
Her eyes each a different color…
Warm water enveloped her body like a glove, wicking away the sweat and grime and blood from her skin. Her leg was buoyed up, untethered from gravity and free from the brace. No pain at all. It was the best she’d felt in the last week. Maybe the last month. But she still couldn’t relax, couldn’t let go of the tension that had her in rictus.
It wasn't that she was worried about being attacked while she was in the bath. Her bag was tied to a tree nearby. She'd used her clothing to knot both it and the naginata to the tree in a way that wouldn't be impossible to undo, but would prevent anybody from simply snatching them and running off while she bathed. The parachute knife was in her hand, just in case. Anybody who wanted to attack her would have to wade in, so she had a fair shake against anything but a gun.
Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in…
No, her worries were a lot more personal than that.
Even with her body underwater, even though she’d kept her underwear on, even though she’d wrapped herself in the space blanket while undressing and kept it on right up until she stepped into the water, she still felt… exposed. Naked, despite her clothing.
And her titties, they drag on the floor.
Juanita hadn’t taken her clothes off in front of anybody for years. She always wore layers, even in the dead of summer. When she had to go swimming, she wore a t-shirt over her swimsuit. She only ever changed in private stalls, or with her bedroom door locked. But here she was, in nothing but her undies, in full view of the cameras. A modern-day Bathsheba, washing herself where a hundred million King Davids could see.
Her hair is like a briar…
What was it they did in youth group that one time? Pray and praise, or something like that. You were supposed to prostrate yourself, as if you were praying. And then you’d stand up, hands together in the prayer pose, and lift them up in praise. And if anybody could see your underwear while you were kneeling or your bra while you were praising, then your clothing was too inappropriate. Because, yeah. That was how it was for girls. If you were careless enough to let one millimeter of fabric show, if you chose to wear something that let a boy know what color your bra straps – or, God forbid, the cups -were, the second you made him in any way aware of the fact that you were a girl and you had underwear on, you were tempting him to lustful thoughts, and then you’d basically be damning him straight to Hell.
She stands in a bow-legged stance…
Juanita’s youth group leaders were probably apoplectic right now. She was out here in her skivvies, where anybody on the internet could see them. How many boys had her bright pink sports bra just sent spiralling into the depths of Hell, they’d moan? How many men?
Then again, she’d murdered two people in cold blood. And she’d indirectly caused the deaths of however many more? Jack, certainly. Donovan? Jenny maybe? There had been a lot of blood on the road leading back to the church. That kind of stuff was mortal sin territory. Go to Hell, go directly to Hell, do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Somehow Juanita felt that airing out Victoria’s secrets for the whole world to see wasn’t gonna make that situation worse.
Besides, her youth leaders had forgotten something. Jesus, as it turned out, had opined on this very subject. They’d been wandering around, doing the miracle thing, and the disciples had asked Jesus what to do about all of these sinful women who were forever catching their eye and making them think lustful thoughts. Jesus had helpfully suggested that men solve that problem by gouging their eyeballs out all together. Because, yeah. Maybe if a guy’s going out of his way to get a good angle down your shirt, the shirt is fine and he’s the problem.
And she never strips down in public
Because there’s a dick in her pants.
Yeah, Jesus would have had her back on this. It was a weirdly comforting thought. It was nice to think, if only for a moment, that God wasn’t entirely against her.
I've Seen Your Flag on the Marble Arch
(CW: anatomy, transphobic bullying) Day 5, late afternoon. Open, but PM appreciated
I've Seen Your Flag on the Marble Arch
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Ruggahissy
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"Are ye sure that's a good idea, girl?"
((Colm Forsyth continued from Reefer Madness))
Colm came upon the scene and as soon as he realized what it was he was looking at, he let go of his axe with one hand and used it to politely shield his view of Juanita in the hot spring. It was more for her benefit as far as potential embarrassment than anything else. He frankly had no strong opinions about being near a girl in her underwear. Well, other than concern for her.
"Your underthings are gonna be wet. You're gonna freeze once you get out. Unless you have extra. Or unless you go commando. Just saying."
He sat cross-legged at the edge of the spring and set down his weapon and bag. He peered through his fingers enough to reveal who the person was -- Juanita. It was someone he knew little about, besides that she'd killed someone. He knew enough to be cautious, but he also knew that murders in this place had all kinds of possible attached circumstance. Colm heard out Betty, and heard out Jacob. No reason not to do it here. Could be one of the only ways to decrease violence overall rather than increase.
"You mind? My feet hurt."
((Colm Forsyth continued from Reefer Madness))
Colm came upon the scene and as soon as he realized what it was he was looking at, he let go of his axe with one hand and used it to politely shield his view of Juanita in the hot spring. It was more for her benefit as far as potential embarrassment than anything else. He frankly had no strong opinions about being near a girl in her underwear. Well, other than concern for her.
"Your underthings are gonna be wet. You're gonna freeze once you get out. Unless you have extra. Or unless you go commando. Just saying."
He sat cross-legged at the edge of the spring and set down his weapon and bag. He peered through his fingers enough to reveal who the person was -- Juanita. It was someone he knew little about, besides that she'd killed someone. He knew enough to be cautious, but he also knew that murders in this place had all kinds of possible attached circumstance. Colm heard out Betty, and heard out Jacob. No reason not to do it here. Could be one of the only ways to decrease violence overall rather than increase.
"You mind? My feet hurt."
In response to Colm's arrival, Juanita emitted the following noises: "Ghh-!" "Oh-OH!" "Jeez!"
The "Ghh-!" was a guttural, involuntary sound that came out like an angry hiss. Instinct drew every muscle taut, and she blindly flailed and splashed, windmilling her arms to get herself upright and backing away from the source of the unexpected noise.
The "Oh-OH!" was her brain taking the reins back from her instinctual panic long enough to register the presence of another person, gasping out one "Oh" in a relieved, "Oh! You startled me!" sort of way. But before it had processed that reaction, Juanita's brain noticed that the person she was looking at was a) very large and b) very much in a death game with her, and shouted the second, louder "OH!" about it.
The belated "Jeez!" came a half-second later, when she got around to noticing that the person was also c) a male person, and she was in her underwear. One arm instinctually came up to wrap around her chest and block the view, while the other held the knife defensively under the water. Only then did she notice that Colm was holding up a hand to avoid looking directly at her. It was a small gesture, but it calmed her down tremendously. She sank down a bit lower, letting the water dissolve her outline into distorted fractals.
Colm proceeded to lecture her about letting her underthings get wet in a wilderness survival situation, which... was probably sound advice, but rankled her nonetheless.
"I've got a towel with me," Juanita said, intentionally dodging the ask about spare underthings or going commando. "My leg gets heat rash in the brace sometimes, so I brought it along to wipe away sweat. I was just gonna dry off with that as best I could, then layer up and try to find shelter and warm up." The statement came out waspish, more defensive than she meant it to be. He probably hadn't meant to be critical, but after what had happened at the bar, she wasn't feeling charitable about having her wisdom questioned.
She eyed the big boy carefully as he set down his weapon and bag. She'd heard his name on the announcements, so she wasn't going to bet that he was totally unarmed, but he didn't seem immediately hostile. When he asked to rest his feet, she nodded. "Sure. I don't mind. "
After a second of thought, she pointed to where her bag was strung up. "If you're gonna be out of arm's reach, you should tie up your bag. That way nobody can run off with it."
The "Ghh-!" was a guttural, involuntary sound that came out like an angry hiss. Instinct drew every muscle taut, and she blindly flailed and splashed, windmilling her arms to get herself upright and backing away from the source of the unexpected noise.
The "Oh-OH!" was her brain taking the reins back from her instinctual panic long enough to register the presence of another person, gasping out one "Oh" in a relieved, "Oh! You startled me!" sort of way. But before it had processed that reaction, Juanita's brain noticed that the person she was looking at was a) very large and b) very much in a death game with her, and shouted the second, louder "OH!" about it.
The belated "Jeez!" came a half-second later, when she got around to noticing that the person was also c) a male person, and she was in her underwear. One arm instinctually came up to wrap around her chest and block the view, while the other held the knife defensively under the water. Only then did she notice that Colm was holding up a hand to avoid looking directly at her. It was a small gesture, but it calmed her down tremendously. She sank down a bit lower, letting the water dissolve her outline into distorted fractals.
Colm proceeded to lecture her about letting her underthings get wet in a wilderness survival situation, which... was probably sound advice, but rankled her nonetheless.
"I've got a towel with me," Juanita said, intentionally dodging the ask about spare underthings or going commando. "My leg gets heat rash in the brace sometimes, so I brought it along to wipe away sweat. I was just gonna dry off with that as best I could, then layer up and try to find shelter and warm up." The statement came out waspish, more defensive than she meant it to be. He probably hadn't meant to be critical, but after what had happened at the bar, she wasn't feeling charitable about having her wisdom questioned.
She eyed the big boy carefully as he set down his weapon and bag. She'd heard his name on the announcements, so she wasn't going to bet that he was totally unarmed, but he didn't seem immediately hostile. When he asked to rest his feet, she nodded. "Sure. I don't mind. "
After a second of thought, she pointed to where her bag was strung up. "If you're gonna be out of arm's reach, you should tie up your bag. That way nobody can run off with it."
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Ruggahissy
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"Gross" he said lightly, quickly in response to her information about her leg boot rash thing. "But whatever. Do what you want. I'm not your mom."
He followed her eye line to the bag. Colm shrugged. He stood on his toes and looped his bag around the branch of a tree, so that only someone his height or taller would be able to take it down. Then he sat at the opposite edge of the pool from the girl.
"I could use a wash I guess. Try not to freak out, Mary. Mostly because I'm what people call... oh.... umm... what's the word... Right. Ugly."
If someone was going to show up with a gun and take them both out, his axe wouldn't do much anyway. Neither probably her pointy thingy near the tree. He started taking his socks off, his shoes, coat, his pants, folding each article very neatly and putting them together in a little square pile.
"So you killed someone. Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, fumbling with his shirt, looking down and not at her. "Not to get too personal, but, yeah. I'm dealing with that myself. And I guess I have been for awhile."
He followed her eye line to the bag. Colm shrugged. He stood on his toes and looped his bag around the branch of a tree, so that only someone his height or taller would be able to take it down. Then he sat at the opposite edge of the pool from the girl.
"I could use a wash I guess. Try not to freak out, Mary. Mostly because I'm what people call... oh.... umm... what's the word... Right. Ugly."
If someone was going to show up with a gun and take them both out, his axe wouldn't do much anyway. Neither probably her pointy thingy near the tree. He started taking his socks off, his shoes, coat, his pants, folding each article very neatly and putting them together in a little square pile.
"So you killed someone. Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, fumbling with his shirt, looking down and not at her. "Not to get too personal, but, yeah. I'm dealing with that myself. And I guess I have been for awhile."
"Gross."
Juanita's facial expression twitched slightly. He was reacting to what she'd said about her leg. She knew that. In her head, she knew that. Heat rash was gross. It wasn't a mean-spirited thing to say. But it clobbered her self-esteem anyway. She was here, a guy was seeing her practically naked for the first time ever, and the word he said out loud, specifically in reference to part of her body, was "gross."
Teddie wouldn't have said "gross," about her leg or anything else. John wouldn't have said "gross." Ash wouldn't have said "gross." Not even Max would have said "gross." That one syllable did as much damage as two full renditions of Everybody Loves Juanita, easily.
"I could use a wash I guess. Try not to freak out, Mary."
She was still smarting, but became momentarily confused that he was calling her Mary. What was that, some kind of dig at her for being Catholic? Some kind of super-weird play on, like, Virgin Mary? Like she was some kind of prude who wouldn't let him take a wash? Or like... did he just not know her name?
Mostly because I'm what people call... oh.... umm... what's the word... Right. Ugly."
That threw her for a loop, too. Colm wasn't ugly. Yeah, sure, he was a big dude, definitely on the husky side. But he wasn't ugly. His face was distinctive. Cute, even. Besides, she wasn't exactly in a position to judge, given that her own face contained more stab wounds than ears. She'd have told him that, too. But, well, if he thought her leg was gross, she really, really didn't want to hear what he thought about her face.
She watched silently as he started to disrobe. There was nothing sexual about it. Just a guy folding his clothes neatly, no eye contact, no attempt to attract her attention. Heck, she'd seen more skin in neighborhood soccer games. There were boys in the neighborhood who liked to play shirtless. But it still felt... like something. Something that made her feel wistful, that tugged at something inside her. It was the same way she'd felt bandaging up Ash, seeing her skin. She looked away, both to avoid seeming like she was staring and to avoid accidentally seeing... anything.
And then he asked the armor-piercing question.
"So you killed someone. Do you wanna talk about it? Not to get too personal, but, yeah. I'm dealing with that myself. And I guess I have been for awhile."
Somehow the bluntness of the question made the rest of the interaction seem tame by comparison. It felt like something personal, something private that you shouldn't talk about. But you had to ask about it, right? Because it burned inside you. Killing someone changed you, turned you into a different person. You had to look in the mirror and realize that this stranger, this murderer, was you now. And that was scary. You couldn't talk about it to someone who hadn't been through it, because they'd never understand. You had to ask someone who was going through the same thing, because they were the only people who'd get it.
He was asking because he knew that she'd understand in a way that nobody else would. And that meant that he'd understand too.
"Two people," she said, quietly. "I killed two people. Maybe three. I don't know if the third one was my fault or not."
"I had a group... an alliance with a bunch of others. We were supposed to look out for each other until the end. We invited anybody who wanted to join up with us. And when people didn't take the invitation, didn't want to join the team... then it was us or them. We fought them, to survive." She pictured John, lying in a pool of blood. "We did what it took. No matter who it was."
"You said you're dealing with it. And I guess I am too. Every time we got into a fight, I thought to myself... Yeah, this sucks. But I thought we were doing the right thing. Saving the people who wanted to live, doing what nobody else was strong enough to do. Making it quick for the people who didn't want to fight for their survival. Get them off the board and give the win to someone who really, really wanted it."
She looked up at Colm, her mouth stretched into a laconic frown. "I dunno. I'm not ready to die here, so I'm choosing to stay alive, and I offered everybody the same choice. Does that make me evil?"
Juanita's facial expression twitched slightly. He was reacting to what she'd said about her leg. She knew that. In her head, she knew that. Heat rash was gross. It wasn't a mean-spirited thing to say. But it clobbered her self-esteem anyway. She was here, a guy was seeing her practically naked for the first time ever, and the word he said out loud, specifically in reference to part of her body, was "gross."
Teddie wouldn't have said "gross," about her leg or anything else. John wouldn't have said "gross." Ash wouldn't have said "gross." Not even Max would have said "gross." That one syllable did as much damage as two full renditions of Everybody Loves Juanita, easily.
"I could use a wash I guess. Try not to freak out, Mary."
She was still smarting, but became momentarily confused that he was calling her Mary. What was that, some kind of dig at her for being Catholic? Some kind of super-weird play on, like, Virgin Mary? Like she was some kind of prude who wouldn't let him take a wash? Or like... did he just not know her name?
Mostly because I'm what people call... oh.... umm... what's the word... Right. Ugly."
That threw her for a loop, too. Colm wasn't ugly. Yeah, sure, he was a big dude, definitely on the husky side. But he wasn't ugly. His face was distinctive. Cute, even. Besides, she wasn't exactly in a position to judge, given that her own face contained more stab wounds than ears. She'd have told him that, too. But, well, if he thought her leg was gross, she really, really didn't want to hear what he thought about her face.
She watched silently as he started to disrobe. There was nothing sexual about it. Just a guy folding his clothes neatly, no eye contact, no attempt to attract her attention. Heck, she'd seen more skin in neighborhood soccer games. There were boys in the neighborhood who liked to play shirtless. But it still felt... like something. Something that made her feel wistful, that tugged at something inside her. It was the same way she'd felt bandaging up Ash, seeing her skin. She looked away, both to avoid seeming like she was staring and to avoid accidentally seeing... anything.
And then he asked the armor-piercing question.
"So you killed someone. Do you wanna talk about it? Not to get too personal, but, yeah. I'm dealing with that myself. And I guess I have been for awhile."
Somehow the bluntness of the question made the rest of the interaction seem tame by comparison. It felt like something personal, something private that you shouldn't talk about. But you had to ask about it, right? Because it burned inside you. Killing someone changed you, turned you into a different person. You had to look in the mirror and realize that this stranger, this murderer, was you now. And that was scary. You couldn't talk about it to someone who hadn't been through it, because they'd never understand. You had to ask someone who was going through the same thing, because they were the only people who'd get it.
He was asking because he knew that she'd understand in a way that nobody else would. And that meant that he'd understand too.
"Two people," she said, quietly. "I killed two people. Maybe three. I don't know if the third one was my fault or not."
"I had a group... an alliance with a bunch of others. We were supposed to look out for each other until the end. We invited anybody who wanted to join up with us. And when people didn't take the invitation, didn't want to join the team... then it was us or them. We fought them, to survive." She pictured John, lying in a pool of blood. "We did what it took. No matter who it was."
"You said you're dealing with it. And I guess I am too. Every time we got into a fight, I thought to myself... Yeah, this sucks. But I thought we were doing the right thing. Saving the people who wanted to live, doing what nobody else was strong enough to do. Making it quick for the people who didn't want to fight for their survival. Get them off the board and give the win to someone who really, really wanted it."
She looked up at Colm, her mouth stretched into a laconic frown. "I dunno. I'm not ready to die here, so I'm choosing to stay alive, and I offered everybody the same choice. Does that make me evil?"
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Ruggahissy
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Without ceremony, shame, or remark, Colm put away the last of his sartorial belongings, all extremely neat, and entered the water without additional adornment. He stayed a respectable distance away from the other bather and made sure not to appear as if looking at her for too long for her comfort more than anything else.
The water was really nice. He could feel the grime of the past days start to disappear and for a moment he was just overtaken with the feeling. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the rocks, looking like a big, happy housecat. He hummed a broken fragment of an old song.
Colm opened one eye slightly to look at her when she answered. The axe was still in reach, just in case.
"Doesn't sound like much of a choice y'gave people. What if they wanted to live, but didn't like your shoes or felt like being alone that day and told you to fuck off? Or what if your alliance folk were sketch? I mean, I don’t see them here, unless they’re really good at holding their breath."
Colm was aware that he was being perhaps too harsh to someone that he didn't have a close enough relationship to where that was acceptable – being naked next to her withstanding.
"It's a fashion with a gun, my love. In a room without a door, a kiss is not enough," he sang quietly to the tune he had been humming. "They just want to steal us all and take us all apart."
He also had a half-frown and attempted to empathize more. He opened both eyes and looked at the water. Colm sighed and rested his cheek on his balled fist, smushing his face to one side.
"For wanting to live? No. Not evil. I have some follow-up questions, but I don’t think I’m getting 'evil vibes.' For whatever that’s worth."
The water was really nice. He could feel the grime of the past days start to disappear and for a moment he was just overtaken with the feeling. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the rocks, looking like a big, happy housecat. He hummed a broken fragment of an old song.
Colm opened one eye slightly to look at her when she answered. The axe was still in reach, just in case.
"Doesn't sound like much of a choice y'gave people. What if they wanted to live, but didn't like your shoes or felt like being alone that day and told you to fuck off? Or what if your alliance folk were sketch? I mean, I don’t see them here, unless they’re really good at holding their breath."
Colm was aware that he was being perhaps too harsh to someone that he didn't have a close enough relationship to where that was acceptable – being naked next to her withstanding.
"It's a fashion with a gun, my love. In a room without a door, a kiss is not enough," he sang quietly to the tune he had been humming. "They just want to steal us all and take us all apart."
He also had a half-frown and attempted to empathize more. He opened both eyes and looked at the water. Colm sighed and rested his cheek on his balled fist, smushing his face to one side.
"For wanting to live? No. Not evil. I have some follow-up questions, but I don’t think I’m getting 'evil vibes.' For whatever that’s worth."
Oh.
Well... um.
Juanita had never... She'd never seen one of those before. Not that she could remember, anyway. Almost all of her playmates had been boys, and she had three brothers, so she'd probably seen something at some point, but not like this.
Her cheeks were rapidly pinkening, and there was nothing to be done about that. If she had to, she'd blame it on the heat of the hot spring. Because... she couldn't very well admit that she'd looked, not after he'd much such a show of looking away from her. And it wasn't like she was trying to look or anything, she just happened to look over after she'd finished talking, to see his reaction, and then she'd... well, she'd seen that, and then she'd looked away and then her eyes had swiveled back because her brain couldn't really process that she was actually seeing what she was seeing and then she looked away again, hard, but the imprint was made. She knew what it looked like, and she couldn't un-know it.
It didn't look anything like the ones she'd seen in graffiti. Or in health class.
She studied some rocks nearby - she really didn't feel like looking at pine trees or anything else with that general shape - and let him keep talking, knocking the legion and the snap judgements they'd made, with all the confidence and luxury of someone who hadn't had to make that kind of call in the heat of the moment. Eventually he got around to giving her an answer to the question she'd posed - no, she wasn't evil. But whatever else he thought she was, was a mystery at the moment.
"My group's not here. They're... gone." Juanita drifted off for a second, trying to think of how best to explain the implosion. "They wouldn't listen to me. I tried to get them to see that we were stronger together than we were alone. That any conflicts we had could be settled when we were the only ones left. But they couldn't see the big picture like that. One faction got greedy with their guns, turned on the rest of us and started shooting. I tried to put a stop to it, I whacked the gun out of one guy's hand, but it was too late."
She held up her arm, showing off the slice where the bullet had grazed her. "That's how I got this. A lot of the others weren't as lucky. Jack Anderson was killed, Donovan Lauer got shot and ran off, Crystal Henderson's hand was blown open. I don't know what happened to the rest."
"And... I dunno. You might be right about the people who turned us down. The group blew up, so maybe everybody else dodged a bullet. Literally, even. But even if they didn't like the look of us, or whatever reason they had... in the big picture it's still a binary choice, isn't it? Anybody who wasn't gonna fight with us was gonna fight against us. Anybody who wasn't gonna help me live was gonna help me die. That's the choice everybody was making, whether they knew it or not. If someone's offering to help you stay alive when nobody else will, doesn't that matter more than whether or not you like their shoes? I mean, I offered to work with Teddie Boyd. He's my ex, and he used to perv on me all the time back home, but I'd have worked with him here if it meant I got to stay alive. Because, like... I dunno. Whatever I felt about him, it wasn't bad enough to be worth dying for."
She hazarded a glance back in Colm's direction. He was safely in the water now, but that wasn't as comforting as she might have hoped. Made for kind of a Jaws situation, if anything. "So, what about you? What happened with... you know, your situation?"
Well... um.
Juanita had never... She'd never seen one of those before. Not that she could remember, anyway. Almost all of her playmates had been boys, and she had three brothers, so she'd probably seen something at some point, but not like this.
Her cheeks were rapidly pinkening, and there was nothing to be done about that. If she had to, she'd blame it on the heat of the hot spring. Because... she couldn't very well admit that she'd looked, not after he'd much such a show of looking away from her. And it wasn't like she was trying to look or anything, she just happened to look over after she'd finished talking, to see his reaction, and then she'd... well, she'd seen that, and then she'd looked away and then her eyes had swiveled back because her brain couldn't really process that she was actually seeing what she was seeing and then she looked away again, hard, but the imprint was made. She knew what it looked like, and she couldn't un-know it.
It didn't look anything like the ones she'd seen in graffiti. Or in health class.
She studied some rocks nearby - she really didn't feel like looking at pine trees or anything else with that general shape - and let him keep talking, knocking the legion and the snap judgements they'd made, with all the confidence and luxury of someone who hadn't had to make that kind of call in the heat of the moment. Eventually he got around to giving her an answer to the question she'd posed - no, she wasn't evil. But whatever else he thought she was, was a mystery at the moment.
"My group's not here. They're... gone." Juanita drifted off for a second, trying to think of how best to explain the implosion. "They wouldn't listen to me. I tried to get them to see that we were stronger together than we were alone. That any conflicts we had could be settled when we were the only ones left. But they couldn't see the big picture like that. One faction got greedy with their guns, turned on the rest of us and started shooting. I tried to put a stop to it, I whacked the gun out of one guy's hand, but it was too late."
She held up her arm, showing off the slice where the bullet had grazed her. "That's how I got this. A lot of the others weren't as lucky. Jack Anderson was killed, Donovan Lauer got shot and ran off, Crystal Henderson's hand was blown open. I don't know what happened to the rest."
"And... I dunno. You might be right about the people who turned us down. The group blew up, so maybe everybody else dodged a bullet. Literally, even. But even if they didn't like the look of us, or whatever reason they had... in the big picture it's still a binary choice, isn't it? Anybody who wasn't gonna fight with us was gonna fight against us. Anybody who wasn't gonna help me live was gonna help me die. That's the choice everybody was making, whether they knew it or not. If someone's offering to help you stay alive when nobody else will, doesn't that matter more than whether or not you like their shoes? I mean, I offered to work with Teddie Boyd. He's my ex, and he used to perv on me all the time back home, but I'd have worked with him here if it meant I got to stay alive. Because, like... I dunno. Whatever I felt about him, it wasn't bad enough to be worth dying for."
She hazarded a glance back in Colm's direction. He was safely in the water now, but that wasn't as comforting as she might have hoped. Made for kind of a Jaws situation, if anything. "So, what about you? What happened with... you know, your situation?"
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Ruggahissy
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"I’m not here to judge but maybe that’s something that’s not that surprising in retrospect given the only condition was ‘join or die’ and so you ended up with people whose only motivating factor was ‘not die.’ And after awhile, maybe they don’t wanna listen to you and they think the best way to not die is to act selfishly."
Colm paused for a moment and dunked his head, then scrubbed his hair.
"Just a thought. And there’s nothing you can do about it now but learn from it."
A leaf had fallen into the water. Colm pushed it around with his fingers, like it was a little sea vessel. He glanced sideways at her with a rueful smile.
"Well. I woke up to a girl – Betty Quinn. But she’d already killed what’s his name, And a hostile guy found us. Two hostile people, you see. I managed to drag her away without anything happening. And when we stopped she told me her ideas about the game. She was going to kill people who she thought were predisposed to killing. Because killing begets more killing. And if she could kill high-risk people first, she hoped that she could prolong our stay here, for rescue. I didn’t think it was a good idea but… I don’t know. I took it on myself to try and stop her, but also protect her. We found another guy and she gave the whole spiel to him, and he agreed. But he said she was exactly the type of person she was trying to kill, and he tried to kill her. And he did hurt her. I pushed a, like a wardrobe at him and I didn’t realize it fell on him and killed him until later. And I had a, like, a panic attack. I left the room where Quinn was to get air and when I went back, she was gone."
He nudged the leaf boat towards Juanita.
"And that’s all. I guess I stopped her, but now I don’t know where she is."
Colm paused for a moment and dunked his head, then scrubbed his hair.
"Just a thought. And there’s nothing you can do about it now but learn from it."
A leaf had fallen into the water. Colm pushed it around with his fingers, like it was a little sea vessel. He glanced sideways at her with a rueful smile.
"Well. I woke up to a girl – Betty Quinn. But she’d already killed what’s his name, And a hostile guy found us. Two hostile people, you see. I managed to drag her away without anything happening. And when we stopped she told me her ideas about the game. She was going to kill people who she thought were predisposed to killing. Because killing begets more killing. And if she could kill high-risk people first, she hoped that she could prolong our stay here, for rescue. I didn’t think it was a good idea but… I don’t know. I took it on myself to try and stop her, but also protect her. We found another guy and she gave the whole spiel to him, and he agreed. But he said she was exactly the type of person she was trying to kill, and he tried to kill her. And he did hurt her. I pushed a, like a wardrobe at him and I didn’t realize it fell on him and killed him until later. And I had a, like, a panic attack. I left the room where Quinn was to get air and when I went back, she was gone."
He nudged the leaf boat towards Juanita.
"And that’s all. I guess I stopped her, but now I don’t know where she is."
Juanita watched as the leaf boat floated closer, and then reached out a finger and drew it in towards her.
He probably wasn't wrong about the legion. She could already hear Max at home watching this. Yeah, wow, gee, a group of people who prioritized survival above everything else would also prioritize survival above listening to you? Golly, Peg. There's a shocker.
She waited patiently for him to finish his story before responding. "I'm sorry about your friend," she said, after a moment of thought. "And about what happened. For whatever it's worth... it... I dunno. It doesn't sound like it was your fault. You were trying to resolve the situation peacefully, and keep the two of them from killing each other. You did the best you could with what you had. Sounds like he made his mind up to kill her, and you tried to stop him peacefully. I think on Judgement Day, there are two things that are gonna count. The effort, and the reaction. I think what makes someone good or bad is, what were you trying to do, and what did you do afterwards? Because it sounds like you didn't mean to kill him, and like you're sorry about what happened. You're not a bad person for making a mistake. And it sounds like you're sorry about it. I think that counts for something."
Juanita spun the little leaf boat in a circle, watching it bob in the current.
"And... I dunno. I know that it's easy to just... say stuff like that. You can tell yourself you're not a bad person as many times as you want, but it won't stop you from feeling how you're gonna feel. So I'm not trying to tell you not to feel bad or anything. I dunno. But I think you're a better person than me, at least."
She heaved a sigh into the mist.
"Sorry. I'm rambling. I dunno if any of that helps, but I hope it does."
She pursed her lips and looked up at her stuff. It was gonna be cold whenever she got out, and she wasn't looking forward to that. "So what's your plan, then? Take a quick dip, then keep looking for your friend? Or are you just sorta... wandering?"
He probably wasn't wrong about the legion. She could already hear Max at home watching this. Yeah, wow, gee, a group of people who prioritized survival above everything else would also prioritize survival above listening to you? Golly, Peg. There's a shocker.
She waited patiently for him to finish his story before responding. "I'm sorry about your friend," she said, after a moment of thought. "And about what happened. For whatever it's worth... it... I dunno. It doesn't sound like it was your fault. You were trying to resolve the situation peacefully, and keep the two of them from killing each other. You did the best you could with what you had. Sounds like he made his mind up to kill her, and you tried to stop him peacefully. I think on Judgement Day, there are two things that are gonna count. The effort, and the reaction. I think what makes someone good or bad is, what were you trying to do, and what did you do afterwards? Because it sounds like you didn't mean to kill him, and like you're sorry about what happened. You're not a bad person for making a mistake. And it sounds like you're sorry about it. I think that counts for something."
Juanita spun the little leaf boat in a circle, watching it bob in the current.
"And... I dunno. I know that it's easy to just... say stuff like that. You can tell yourself you're not a bad person as many times as you want, but it won't stop you from feeling how you're gonna feel. So I'm not trying to tell you not to feel bad or anything. I dunno. But I think you're a better person than me, at least."
She heaved a sigh into the mist.
"Sorry. I'm rambling. I dunno if any of that helps, but I hope it does."
She pursed her lips and looked up at her stuff. It was gonna be cold whenever she got out, and she wasn't looking forward to that. "So what's your plan, then? Take a quick dip, then keep looking for your friend? Or are you just sorta... wandering?"
V8 Characters:
Juanita Reid
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Ruggahissy
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Colm shrugged and observed her manning the ship. She spoke of Judgement Day and he very plainly didn't believe in such things. But he also wasn't such a dick to "WELL ACKSHUALLY, WHERE IS YOUR SKY WIZARD -" r/atheist this girl or anyone else for that matter. As long as people respected his autonomy regarding religion, he was content to extend the respect back.
"Well, leannan," he began, sinking a little more into the water, "thank you, but I didn't think I was a bad person. And I do feel bad. No, I'm a realist I guess. So I think that I was something which I think is worse than being a bad person. Incompetent. An incompetent person."
He sank a little more and blew bubbles into the water as a sigh.
"I guess I do have to find her. I saved her. Twice. So that means she's my responsibility, doesn't it? If not for me, she wouldn't still be here. And she was... a bit cracked, but maybe she was my friend and I kind of did like to spend time with her."
Colm's eyes did brighten for a moment as he remembered.
"Well, I did see someone else. Jacob. Small one. He killed someone too and he was all trying to make it seem like it was on purpose and he was big scary and all, but it wasn't true. It was an accident. I got him to admit it. Little cutie seemed... lonely. Maybe being lonely is just as much a dangerous thing here as anything else."
He paused.
"So what about you?"
"Well, leannan," he began, sinking a little more into the water, "thank you, but I didn't think I was a bad person. And I do feel bad. No, I'm a realist I guess. So I think that I was something which I think is worse than being a bad person. Incompetent. An incompetent person."
He sank a little more and blew bubbles into the water as a sigh.
"I guess I do have to find her. I saved her. Twice. So that means she's my responsibility, doesn't it? If not for me, she wouldn't still be here. And she was... a bit cracked, but maybe she was my friend and I kind of did like to spend time with her."
Colm's eyes did brighten for a moment as he remembered.
"Well, I did see someone else. Jacob. Small one. He killed someone too and he was all trying to make it seem like it was on purpose and he was big scary and all, but it wasn't true. It was an accident. I got him to admit it. Little cutie seemed... lonely. Maybe being lonely is just as much a dangerous thing here as anything else."
He paused.
"So what about you?"
His use of the word "leannan" brought a slight smile to her face. Juanita hadn't heard that word in a long time. Her grandfather used to call her grandma that, whenever she brought him his coffee.
But then he continued, and she felt like an idiot. Note to self, never do big grandiose speeches again. When he'd brought up the topic of being a killer she'd naturally assumed he was looking to unburden himself from a heavy load of guilt, but, no, he just felt bad for pushing a wardrobe down the stairs and killing someone by accident. Which... was pretty fair. Hard not to kick yourself for something like that. She doubted that she could speak into that in any meaningful way. But, well, her foot was already in her mouth, so she might as well try. Besides, the longer she talked, the less she'd think about that.
"I dunno if incompetent is the right word. Situations like that, where adrenaline is running high, you don't really have time to sit down and think about all the possible options. You just hafta move. If you hadn't done it, then Betty could've died. And... I dunno. I don't think there's a way to competently push a wardrobe down the stairs."
She listened patiently while he continued talking, about Betty, and his encounter with Jacob, nodding along with his thoughts. She hadn't been there, didn't really know whether his reads on those two were right or wrong.
Then he'd asked, So, what about you?
Good question. Truth be told, Juanita had no idea what to do next. She hadn’t had a destination in mind after leaving Crystal and Ash. She’d just started walking, without a direction in mind. Eventually she’d pulled out her map and decided to head for the mine. It seemed remote enough that she wasn’t likely to run into too many other people – and she could decide from there whether to chance heading back to town or head out for the research station. Her gut told her that more and more people would be congregating in bigger locations, which meant that she’d be better off heading there early.
"I don't know what I'll do after this," she admitted, sighing. "I think it still hasn't sunk in yet, you know? Like, in the back of my mind I keep thinking that after I'm done here I need to get back to the team, make sure they're all okay and figure out our next move. I keep forgetting that they're gone."
What Colm had said about loneliness really struck a nerve. Since the beginning, she'd eaten, slept, and breathed the legion. Their mission gave her a reason to get up in the morning, and set out clear goals for what to do, where to go, and what to prepare for. Everything she'd done up to that point, she'd done in the context of furthering the group and making them stronger. But now? She was a player without a team. Not only did she have no backup if things went wrong, but she also didn't have anybody to celebrate with when things went right. She wasn't working towards anybody else's success, and it just... it wasn't the same. Without that group motivation, with everything on her own shoulders, it was hard to have confidence in any course of action.
"I was heading for the mine when I came here. Probably gonna head there after I'm done here. After that... I dunno. Head back to town, or the research station, maybe? Set up some defenses. Find someone to group up with. I dunno."
She thought for a moment, before adding, "I would offer to help you find your friend, but... well, you probably know, if you've ever seen me in the hallways. I've got a bad leg, tore my ACL a while back. So I'd only slow you down. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'm exactly the kind of person she's out here to kill."
But then he continued, and she felt like an idiot. Note to self, never do big grandiose speeches again. When he'd brought up the topic of being a killer she'd naturally assumed he was looking to unburden himself from a heavy load of guilt, but, no, he just felt bad for pushing a wardrobe down the stairs and killing someone by accident. Which... was pretty fair. Hard not to kick yourself for something like that. She doubted that she could speak into that in any meaningful way. But, well, her foot was already in her mouth, so she might as well try. Besides, the longer she talked, the less she'd think about that.
"I dunno if incompetent is the right word. Situations like that, where adrenaline is running high, you don't really have time to sit down and think about all the possible options. You just hafta move. If you hadn't done it, then Betty could've died. And... I dunno. I don't think there's a way to competently push a wardrobe down the stairs."
She listened patiently while he continued talking, about Betty, and his encounter with Jacob, nodding along with his thoughts. She hadn't been there, didn't really know whether his reads on those two were right or wrong.
Then he'd asked, So, what about you?
Good question. Truth be told, Juanita had no idea what to do next. She hadn’t had a destination in mind after leaving Crystal and Ash. She’d just started walking, without a direction in mind. Eventually she’d pulled out her map and decided to head for the mine. It seemed remote enough that she wasn’t likely to run into too many other people – and she could decide from there whether to chance heading back to town or head out for the research station. Her gut told her that more and more people would be congregating in bigger locations, which meant that she’d be better off heading there early.
"I don't know what I'll do after this," she admitted, sighing. "I think it still hasn't sunk in yet, you know? Like, in the back of my mind I keep thinking that after I'm done here I need to get back to the team, make sure they're all okay and figure out our next move. I keep forgetting that they're gone."
What Colm had said about loneliness really struck a nerve. Since the beginning, she'd eaten, slept, and breathed the legion. Their mission gave her a reason to get up in the morning, and set out clear goals for what to do, where to go, and what to prepare for. Everything she'd done up to that point, she'd done in the context of furthering the group and making them stronger. But now? She was a player without a team. Not only did she have no backup if things went wrong, but she also didn't have anybody to celebrate with when things went right. She wasn't working towards anybody else's success, and it just... it wasn't the same. Without that group motivation, with everything on her own shoulders, it was hard to have confidence in any course of action.
"I was heading for the mine when I came here. Probably gonna head there after I'm done here. After that... I dunno. Head back to town, or the research station, maybe? Set up some defenses. Find someone to group up with. I dunno."
She thought for a moment, before adding, "I would offer to help you find your friend, but... well, you probably know, if you've ever seen me in the hallways. I've got a bad leg, tore my ACL a while back. So I'd only slow you down. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'm exactly the kind of person she's out here to kill."
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Ruggahissy
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Colm cocked his head to the side.
"Sometimes holding onto people is like holding onto a piece of glass. It wasn't a piece of glass always; it used to be something useful. But now it's just the piece of glass and it hurts, but you're scared that letting it go and having nothing will be worse than the pain of holding onto it. And when you let go, your hand still pure hurts, so you feel like maybe letting go wasn't even the right thing. But it takes time to feel better. Which we don't have as much of here."
He put a finger to his chin and then pushed his hair back, giving it another cleansing ruffle.
"If you're going to the research station, I'll go too. It's the last place I saw Quinn. Maybe she didn't go far. She had a bum leg too, so it's nothing I'm not used to at this point."
Colm shifted and motioned to Juanita's things, then put a hand over his eyes.
"If you want to get out first, you can. Then I'll go once you've started studying the trees or something. I'm not 'bout to take the fall for you having a heart attack, at least, based on how you were jittering and fussing when I got in," he said, the wry smile growing under his hand.
((Colm Forsyth continued in The Passion Of Iscariot; By Max Demian))
"Sometimes holding onto people is like holding onto a piece of glass. It wasn't a piece of glass always; it used to be something useful. But now it's just the piece of glass and it hurts, but you're scared that letting it go and having nothing will be worse than the pain of holding onto it. And when you let go, your hand still pure hurts, so you feel like maybe letting go wasn't even the right thing. But it takes time to feel better. Which we don't have as much of here."
He put a finger to his chin and then pushed his hair back, giving it another cleansing ruffle.
"If you're going to the research station, I'll go too. It's the last place I saw Quinn. Maybe she didn't go far. She had a bum leg too, so it's nothing I'm not used to at this point."
Colm shifted and motioned to Juanita's things, then put a hand over his eyes.
"If you want to get out first, you can. Then I'll go once you've started studying the trees or something. I'm not 'bout to take the fall for you having a heart attack, at least, based on how you were jittering and fussing when I got in," he said, the wry smile growing under his hand.
((Colm Forsyth continued in The Passion Of Iscariot; By Max Demian))
Juanita wasn't really sure where he was going with the broken glass metaphor. She'd never been great at English or any of the humanities. But it sounded pretty enough.
"All right, sounds like a plan. We can hole up in the mine area for the night, then set out for the research station afterwards. With any luck, we'll run into Quinn somewhere in the area. If she's anything like me, she won't have gotten too far, and probably wouldn't want to go for a hike across the island if she didn't have to."
They'd go as far as the station. After that, they'd split. Couldn't come soon enough, in Juanita's opinion. She didn't know Colm well, but the guy just... rubbed her the wrong way. He used a lot of weird words, and all the little jibes and taunts got under her skin. Her brothers used to do that kind of thing all the time and it drove her nuts. She made a face as he covered his eyes and smirked at her, like he was needling her for her reaction earlier. She turned away from him. On the off chance that he peeked, she didn't want him to see the knife in her hand. If he knew that she'd been holding it the entire time, he'd probably have thoughts about that. And the less he knew about her and her personal armory, the better. She hauled herself up out of the water, grimacing as she pulled her knee up above the surface. Regular gravity restored, time to feel pain again.
Juanita grabbed the towel from underneath the space blanket she'd left on the rocks, and wrapped the knife up in one corner, to keep Colm from seeing it. She went to work drying her feet and calves first so she could put on her socks and shoes. The towel's movements were rough, taut. So was her jawline. She was feeling grouchy. Colm probably wasn't peeking, and somehow that bothered her almost as much as if he'd stolen a look. She donned her footwear and stood, then started to towel off the rest of her body, her movements terse and brisk. Drawing out as much of the moisture from her soaked undergarments as she could, so they wouldn't freeze beneath her clothes. Everything felt taut, stiff. Like there hadn't been any benefit from the spring at all. Somehow, this whole situation made her angry. Not angry at Colm, because it wasn't like he'd been showing off or ogling her or anything. Yeah, she hadn't loved that he dropped trou in front of her without warning. That was a dick move, but... well... all right, poor choice of words. No, she was... she was angry that she'd looked and angry that she'd seen it, and just... just angry.
She wasn't supposed to see one of those things until her wedding night. She wasn't supposed to see anybody but her husband, and he wasn't supposed to see any girl's body but hers. It was this beautiful mysterious romantic thing, this idea that their bodies would be a mystery known only to one another. But now she'd seen one. And now everybody in the entire world was watching her dry herself, and it... it didn't even matter. It had all seemed so important, and then one week turned it all upside down.
She hobbled over to her bag, for the rest of her clothes. Steam rose from her. Whether it was from the springs or her anger, it was hard to tell.
((Juanita Reid continued elsewhere))
"All right, sounds like a plan. We can hole up in the mine area for the night, then set out for the research station afterwards. With any luck, we'll run into Quinn somewhere in the area. If she's anything like me, she won't have gotten too far, and probably wouldn't want to go for a hike across the island if she didn't have to."
They'd go as far as the station. After that, they'd split. Couldn't come soon enough, in Juanita's opinion. She didn't know Colm well, but the guy just... rubbed her the wrong way. He used a lot of weird words, and all the little jibes and taunts got under her skin. Her brothers used to do that kind of thing all the time and it drove her nuts. She made a face as he covered his eyes and smirked at her, like he was needling her for her reaction earlier. She turned away from him. On the off chance that he peeked, she didn't want him to see the knife in her hand. If he knew that she'd been holding it the entire time, he'd probably have thoughts about that. And the less he knew about her and her personal armory, the better. She hauled herself up out of the water, grimacing as she pulled her knee up above the surface. Regular gravity restored, time to feel pain again.
Juanita grabbed the towel from underneath the space blanket she'd left on the rocks, and wrapped the knife up in one corner, to keep Colm from seeing it. She went to work drying her feet and calves first so she could put on her socks and shoes. The towel's movements were rough, taut. So was her jawline. She was feeling grouchy. Colm probably wasn't peeking, and somehow that bothered her almost as much as if he'd stolen a look. She donned her footwear and stood, then started to towel off the rest of her body, her movements terse and brisk. Drawing out as much of the moisture from her soaked undergarments as she could, so they wouldn't freeze beneath her clothes. Everything felt taut, stiff. Like there hadn't been any benefit from the spring at all. Somehow, this whole situation made her angry. Not angry at Colm, because it wasn't like he'd been showing off or ogling her or anything. Yeah, she hadn't loved that he dropped trou in front of her without warning. That was a dick move, but... well... all right, poor choice of words. No, she was... she was angry that she'd looked and angry that she'd seen it, and just... just angry.
She wasn't supposed to see one of those things until her wedding night. She wasn't supposed to see anybody but her husband, and he wasn't supposed to see any girl's body but hers. It was this beautiful mysterious romantic thing, this idea that their bodies would be a mystery known only to one another. But now she'd seen one. And now everybody in the entire world was watching her dry herself, and it... it didn't even matter. It had all seemed so important, and then one week turned it all upside down.
She hobbled over to her bag, for the rest of her clothes. Steam rose from her. Whether it was from the springs or her anger, it was hard to tell.
((Juanita Reid continued elsewhere))
V8 Characters:
Juanita Reid
Rebekah Hayes
Karin Han
EXTREME STEVE Dodds
Juanita Reid
Rebekah Hayes
Karin Han
EXTREME STEVE Dodds