The Golden Eel
Day 9, morning, mild content warning
The Golden Eel
((Jacob Lang continued from Pine Needle Tea Party))
Once again, Jacob found himself shambling through the snow, the mocking voice from the announcements echoing through his aching head. Of course Elodie had been killed right after he left. How could he have expected anything else? She was small and weak (like him), and he had run off, leaving her alone to face Juanita by herself. Not that he had any moral high ground, really. He had been tempted to rob her himself, and who knew what he would have done had he been interrupted? Of course, the question was immaterial. He had done what he had always done: take the coward's way out. What happened to the Jacob from back home, the troublemaker? Had the lack of safety nets really broken him so badly that fear had overcome all his other impulses? It didn't make sense at all. Even the version of him that had been running around a week ago was already becoming unrecognizable. How pathetic.
He sighed, taking a moment to rest, leaning against a nearby tree. Pathetic really was the best way to describe it. He was useless - completely powerless to seemingly affect the lives of those around him for good or for ill. Back home, he had taken himself for some sort of evil genius, constantly tilting the scales towards chaos, but now, with all of those boring rules stripped away, there was nothing hiding the truth: that he was little more than a pest, who only got away with anything he did because to deal with him was more often trouble than it was worth. The only two things on this island that mattered anymore were the strength of one's body and the strength of one's bonds with others, and Jacob had neither. He was pathetically weak, even with a knife to even the odds, and he had no connection left to anyone still alive other than perhaps vague memories of being somewhat annoying.
It was never easy to realize that one has wasted their life, but once the conclusion had been reached, it was impossible to ignore. Jacob had spent all his time wasting away on the computer and trying to find out what made people mad, rather than what made them happy. It was a miserable existence, and without the occasional rush of victory, there was nothing to distract him from how empty it all was. All he had done his entire time here was chase the dragon of his previous exploits, without realizing that to do so in this environment required a skillset that he just didn't have. What had it gotten him? What had it gotten anyone? Absolutely nothing.
So many of his classmates had died since he had come here. They had friends, interesting personalities and, most importantly, something going for them when they got home. Could he honestly say that he deserved to have made it this much farther than they did? If fate had traded his life for any of theirs on the way over here, he doubted that anyone would be worse off. So many promising life stories had been snuffed out, incomplete, while all he did was wander around doing nothing in particular. He wasn't smart enough, brave enough or creative enough to be the person who he had wanted to be. All he had been was a pathetic waste of space, taking up oxygen that would have been better off used by so many other people, like Elodie, or Spike.
A rush of guilt flooded into Jacob's mind as he remembered the incident with Spike, forcing him to take a seat in an attempt to calm his spinning head. The one thing of note that Jacob had done since he got here was to get somebody killed out of pure carelessness. It was such a waste. He had started the confrontation over some stupid bullshit that he couldn't even remember anymore, and ever since, he had done nothing to atone for his crime, or at the very least convince the world that Spike's death had meant something. Maybe if Spike had lived and he had died, Spike would have made something with his life, but as of yet Jacob had done nothing at all to give any indication that the trade was worth it.
Jacob drew his knees up to his chest, resting in his face in his arms as he continued his internal pity party. At this point, all he wanted at this point was to do something, anything that would make him feel like he mattered more than a mosquito buzzing around people's heads before being swatted away. It didn't matter if he helped someone, hurt someone... hell, at this point he just felt like going out in some sort of blaze of glory, if such a thing were even possible. It wasn't, of course. He had spent so long disconnected from his fellows that he had no idea who he could even put that sort of effort for, other than the manifestly unsatisfying idea of just picking the next available opportunity, no matter what it may be.
It was selfish and stupid, and he knew it, but all the same, it was the only thing he felt that there was left to ruminate on. He was going to die soon anyway, and prolonging things really wouldn't be worth the effort. All he was going to do was stumble around, miserable, occasionally annoying people until he found himself bleeding out somewhere as one of his classmates helped themselves to his stuff. If anything, seeing him like that would probably be a relief to the people back home - he couldn't imagine how disappointed his family was in him right now. He'd finally stop wasting everyone's time and see himself out of this play that he no longer deserved to be in.
Of course, with all that said, the question was open - why not just end everything right now? He had a knife. All he had to do was slide it over his wrists and everything would all be over. Just a short move down the road (and not across the street). Sure, it would hurt a lot, but it would probably hurt even more when somebody would inevitably kill him. Nothing was stopping him aside from the same thing that had dogged him at every turn since he got here: cowardice. Despite all the good reasons he had to finally end things, this was still some small spark inside him, nagging with the thought that maybe, just maybe, if he kept going a little while longer, he'd finally think of something worth sticking around for. It was a vain, foolish hope, though at least somewhat less selfish than the desire of meaningfulness to just drop into his lap. Still, even if it was less selfish, it made him feel more guilty than hopeful. Staying alive and wandering this island was really just an obligation now, rather than something he really wanted to do. The days had blurred into each other, giving him the feeling of an old man who had been alive just far too long.
A gust of wind blew past his head, barely noticeable beneath his internal monologuing. Perhaps, in the end, everything boiled down to the fact that he just didn't want to be here anymore. Whatever hopes he had had for himself back home had been thoroughly and utterly discarded, with nothing to take their place. He had no motivation to do anything, not just to live but to even get up from this spot. Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd just freeze to death over here before anyone else showed up, slipping painlessly off into the darkness without wasting anyone else's time. The chance of it happening wasn't very high, given the current weather, but maybe all that meant was that he had to just stay here long enough, unmoving, until his life was finally put to an end without him lifting a finger.
At this point, really, it didn't even feel like that bad of an idea.
Once again, Jacob found himself shambling through the snow, the mocking voice from the announcements echoing through his aching head. Of course Elodie had been killed right after he left. How could he have expected anything else? She was small and weak (like him), and he had run off, leaving her alone to face Juanita by herself. Not that he had any moral high ground, really. He had been tempted to rob her himself, and who knew what he would have done had he been interrupted? Of course, the question was immaterial. He had done what he had always done: take the coward's way out. What happened to the Jacob from back home, the troublemaker? Had the lack of safety nets really broken him so badly that fear had overcome all his other impulses? It didn't make sense at all. Even the version of him that had been running around a week ago was already becoming unrecognizable. How pathetic.
He sighed, taking a moment to rest, leaning against a nearby tree. Pathetic really was the best way to describe it. He was useless - completely powerless to seemingly affect the lives of those around him for good or for ill. Back home, he had taken himself for some sort of evil genius, constantly tilting the scales towards chaos, but now, with all of those boring rules stripped away, there was nothing hiding the truth: that he was little more than a pest, who only got away with anything he did because to deal with him was more often trouble than it was worth. The only two things on this island that mattered anymore were the strength of one's body and the strength of one's bonds with others, and Jacob had neither. He was pathetically weak, even with a knife to even the odds, and he had no connection left to anyone still alive other than perhaps vague memories of being somewhat annoying.
It was never easy to realize that one has wasted their life, but once the conclusion had been reached, it was impossible to ignore. Jacob had spent all his time wasting away on the computer and trying to find out what made people mad, rather than what made them happy. It was a miserable existence, and without the occasional rush of victory, there was nothing to distract him from how empty it all was. All he had done his entire time here was chase the dragon of his previous exploits, without realizing that to do so in this environment required a skillset that he just didn't have. What had it gotten him? What had it gotten anyone? Absolutely nothing.
So many of his classmates had died since he had come here. They had friends, interesting personalities and, most importantly, something going for them when they got home. Could he honestly say that he deserved to have made it this much farther than they did? If fate had traded his life for any of theirs on the way over here, he doubted that anyone would be worse off. So many promising life stories had been snuffed out, incomplete, while all he did was wander around doing nothing in particular. He wasn't smart enough, brave enough or creative enough to be the person who he had wanted to be. All he had been was a pathetic waste of space, taking up oxygen that would have been better off used by so many other people, like Elodie, or Spike.
A rush of guilt flooded into Jacob's mind as he remembered the incident with Spike, forcing him to take a seat in an attempt to calm his spinning head. The one thing of note that Jacob had done since he got here was to get somebody killed out of pure carelessness. It was such a waste. He had started the confrontation over some stupid bullshit that he couldn't even remember anymore, and ever since, he had done nothing to atone for his crime, or at the very least convince the world that Spike's death had meant something. Maybe if Spike had lived and he had died, Spike would have made something with his life, but as of yet Jacob had done nothing at all to give any indication that the trade was worth it.
Jacob drew his knees up to his chest, resting in his face in his arms as he continued his internal pity party. At this point, all he wanted at this point was to do something, anything that would make him feel like he mattered more than a mosquito buzzing around people's heads before being swatted away. It didn't matter if he helped someone, hurt someone... hell, at this point he just felt like going out in some sort of blaze of glory, if such a thing were even possible. It wasn't, of course. He had spent so long disconnected from his fellows that he had no idea who he could even put that sort of effort for, other than the manifestly unsatisfying idea of just picking the next available opportunity, no matter what it may be.
It was selfish and stupid, and he knew it, but all the same, it was the only thing he felt that there was left to ruminate on. He was going to die soon anyway, and prolonging things really wouldn't be worth the effort. All he was going to do was stumble around, miserable, occasionally annoying people until he found himself bleeding out somewhere as one of his classmates helped themselves to his stuff. If anything, seeing him like that would probably be a relief to the people back home - he couldn't imagine how disappointed his family was in him right now. He'd finally stop wasting everyone's time and see himself out of this play that he no longer deserved to be in.
Of course, with all that said, the question was open - why not just end everything right now? He had a knife. All he had to do was slide it over his wrists and everything would all be over. Just a short move down the road (and not across the street). Sure, it would hurt a lot, but it would probably hurt even more when somebody would inevitably kill him. Nothing was stopping him aside from the same thing that had dogged him at every turn since he got here: cowardice. Despite all the good reasons he had to finally end things, this was still some small spark inside him, nagging with the thought that maybe, just maybe, if he kept going a little while longer, he'd finally think of something worth sticking around for. It was a vain, foolish hope, though at least somewhat less selfish than the desire of meaningfulness to just drop into his lap. Still, even if it was less selfish, it made him feel more guilty than hopeful. Staying alive and wandering this island was really just an obligation now, rather than something he really wanted to do. The days had blurred into each other, giving him the feeling of an old man who had been alive just far too long.
A gust of wind blew past his head, barely noticeable beneath his internal monologuing. Perhaps, in the end, everything boiled down to the fact that he just didn't want to be here anymore. Whatever hopes he had had for himself back home had been thoroughly and utterly discarded, with nothing to take their place. He had no motivation to do anything, not just to live but to even get up from this spot. Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd just freeze to death over here before anyone else showed up, slipping painlessly off into the darkness without wasting anyone else's time. The chance of it happening wasn't very high, given the current weather, but maybe all that meant was that he had to just stay here long enough, unmoving, until his life was finally put to an end without him lifting a finger.
At this point, really, it didn't even feel like that bad of an idea.
((Kai Rosado-Prince continued from On Guard))
If he was smart, maybe Kai would have expected that all the effort and turmoil in getting the weapons away from Kitty would be for nothing.
He and Marshall had made it a short distance into the forest before night fell and they had to make camp. It hadn't been great, with the worsening weather and the lack of shelter from the umbrella, but they'd made it through. Kai had steeled himself for the announcement of Ashlyn's death. He'd expected some strain from the fact that he hadn't mentioned it to Marshall, at least.
In the end, it hadn't even mattered. Nothing else they'd done on the previous day had mattered either. Kai wouldn't even have to bring up that he'd failed to get the knife or the grenade launcher from Kitty, because even if he had, the terrorists had just turned around and given her yet another weapon for her efforts.
Kai doubted that anyone on the other side of the cameras cared about him specifically, but it still felt like they were laughing in his face.
He hadn't said much to Marshall. One or two-word responses at most, but Marshall hadn't seemed to be in much of a talking mood either, for once. They both avoided any attempts at deeper conversation as they packed up their meager camp and started trudging through the snow again. It had taken most of his energy just to get up and start on that. He didn't feel like there was anything that needed to be said, really. Betraying and leaving Kitty had felt like one of the hardest things that he had ever done, and in an instant it was all turned into a waste.
The only silver lining was the slight reprieve in the snowfall. It still took most of Kai's concentration to force himself through it, and his vision was constantly blurry with the moisture clinging to his glasses. He couldn't do much about that with his arms still full of weapons. They had just about managed to work out that the lake was closer to their position than the trapping camp, so they could only hope to get lucky and decide that Cali had headed there first too. As long as she stuck with what they had agreed upon and stayed put in one place to wait for them, they'd find her eventually.
Kai just couldn't find it in himself to hope for the best at this point.
He did still let out a ragged sigh of relief when they broke through the trees into the clearing around the lake. The white puff of his breath only served to fog up his vision even more, but this was some kind of progress. He didn't know what else to do besides keep pushing towards it.
As far as he could tell with most everything in his sight being a mess of vague shape and color, the area around the lake was deserted. The real kicker of the morning: he'd had a pit in his chest for almost a day, but he could still feel his heart sink further at the lack of any sign of Cali.
Still, he took a deep breath and called out, just in case she was somewhere nearby and just hidden out of sight. Never could stop setting himself up for disappointment.
"Cali?" His voice didn't echo back, instead swallowed and muffled by the snow, but it still carried across the lake.
If he was smart, maybe Kai would have expected that all the effort and turmoil in getting the weapons away from Kitty would be for nothing.
He and Marshall had made it a short distance into the forest before night fell and they had to make camp. It hadn't been great, with the worsening weather and the lack of shelter from the umbrella, but they'd made it through. Kai had steeled himself for the announcement of Ashlyn's death. He'd expected some strain from the fact that he hadn't mentioned it to Marshall, at least.
In the end, it hadn't even mattered. Nothing else they'd done on the previous day had mattered either. Kai wouldn't even have to bring up that he'd failed to get the knife or the grenade launcher from Kitty, because even if he had, the terrorists had just turned around and given her yet another weapon for her efforts.
Kai doubted that anyone on the other side of the cameras cared about him specifically, but it still felt like they were laughing in his face.
He hadn't said much to Marshall. One or two-word responses at most, but Marshall hadn't seemed to be in much of a talking mood either, for once. They both avoided any attempts at deeper conversation as they packed up their meager camp and started trudging through the snow again. It had taken most of his energy just to get up and start on that. He didn't feel like there was anything that needed to be said, really. Betraying and leaving Kitty had felt like one of the hardest things that he had ever done, and in an instant it was all turned into a waste.
The only silver lining was the slight reprieve in the snowfall. It still took most of Kai's concentration to force himself through it, and his vision was constantly blurry with the moisture clinging to his glasses. He couldn't do much about that with his arms still full of weapons. They had just about managed to work out that the lake was closer to their position than the trapping camp, so they could only hope to get lucky and decide that Cali had headed there first too. As long as she stuck with what they had agreed upon and stayed put in one place to wait for them, they'd find her eventually.
Kai just couldn't find it in himself to hope for the best at this point.
He did still let out a ragged sigh of relief when they broke through the trees into the clearing around the lake. The white puff of his breath only served to fog up his vision even more, but this was some kind of progress. He didn't know what else to do besides keep pushing towards it.
As far as he could tell with most everything in his sight being a mess of vague shape and color, the area around the lake was deserted. The real kicker of the morning: he'd had a pit in his chest for almost a day, but he could still feel his heart sink further at the lack of any sign of Cali.
Still, he took a deep breath and called out, just in case she was somewhere nearby and just hidden out of sight. Never could stop setting himself up for disappointment.
"Cali?" His voice didn't echo back, instead swallowed and muffled by the snow, but it still carried across the lake.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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((Marshall West continued from On Guard.))
The night had been difficult, Marshall was sure, though he didn’t remember much of it. Just of being curled up, trying to keep his face protected from the elements so the frostbite didn’t get worse and his nose didn’t fall off. Trying to drive back the thought that any moment could be his last without him being able to do anything about it. The cold could get him, just like it got Jess.
Kai was probably the only reason he didn’t freeze to death. At least he knew where to go, how to camp, how to stay warm.
The announcements came and went.
Disarming Katelyn had been close to pointless, since the terrorists had decided to give her a brand-new weapon in exchange for her murdering her sister. Because nothing Marshall was involved in could go well. And if that was all the announcements had for him, that would have been bad enough.
Richard had shot Iris. (Why now? Was it happening after Chloe’s announced death a coincidence?) Joshua was dead. (He’d never know what had driven such a mild, quiet boy to become so celebrated by the terrorists.) Victor had murdered. (The last member of his lacrosse team to not be dead, stained in blood, or both. And he hadn’t even found one of them.)
And Evie… if Marshall had done something about her, like tried to take the gun away, perhaps Lara would still be alive. On the other hand, maybe DeMarcus would still be alive, too. And even among everything else… he imagined DeMarcus bleeding out on the snow and all he could think was ‘good.’ Even knowing what the cost was.
No matter how many times the terrorists announced who had died, it didn’t get easier to listen to. But there were too many different emotions mingling in his gut for him to express any of them. So in his gut they stayed.
He trudged behind Kai, his eyes focused on the snow as they plunged their feet into it over and over. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t feel his limbs very well, except for a pulsing where his fingers had been. He didn’t know if this was another blackout, like he’d had on Day 3, if it was something worse, or if he was just cold.
But as long as Kai walked ahead of him, he had somewhere to go. As long as California was still waiting out there, he had a goal. He could compartmentalise and continue.
Back at the lake, missing two out of three of the people he'd left it with.
Kai called out for California. It carried decently enough, but this was the sort of situation that Marshall’s loud voice was made for. When he tried to shout her name, however, he didn’t make it further than the first syllable before his voice cracked and he cut off, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to suppress any coughing.
It probably would have helped if he’d remembered to drink before they’d packed up. But the bottles were buried under the weapons Kai had handed him to carry in the tunnel.
The night had been difficult, Marshall was sure, though he didn’t remember much of it. Just of being curled up, trying to keep his face protected from the elements so the frostbite didn’t get worse and his nose didn’t fall off. Trying to drive back the thought that any moment could be his last without him being able to do anything about it. The cold could get him, just like it got Jess.
Kai was probably the only reason he didn’t freeze to death. At least he knew where to go, how to camp, how to stay warm.
The announcements came and went.
Disarming Katelyn had been close to pointless, since the terrorists had decided to give her a brand-new weapon in exchange for her murdering her sister. Because nothing Marshall was involved in could go well. And if that was all the announcements had for him, that would have been bad enough.
Richard had shot Iris. (Why now? Was it happening after Chloe’s announced death a coincidence?) Joshua was dead. (He’d never know what had driven such a mild, quiet boy to become so celebrated by the terrorists.) Victor had murdered. (The last member of his lacrosse team to not be dead, stained in blood, or both. And he hadn’t even found one of them.)
And Evie… if Marshall had done something about her, like tried to take the gun away, perhaps Lara would still be alive. On the other hand, maybe DeMarcus would still be alive, too. And even among everything else… he imagined DeMarcus bleeding out on the snow and all he could think was ‘good.’ Even knowing what the cost was.
No matter how many times the terrorists announced who had died, it didn’t get easier to listen to. But there were too many different emotions mingling in his gut for him to express any of them. So in his gut they stayed.
He trudged behind Kai, his eyes focused on the snow as they plunged their feet into it over and over. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t feel his limbs very well, except for a pulsing where his fingers had been. He didn’t know if this was another blackout, like he’d had on Day 3, if it was something worse, or if he was just cold.
But as long as Kai walked ahead of him, he had somewhere to go. As long as California was still waiting out there, he had a goal. He could compartmentalise and continue.
Back at the lake, missing two out of three of the people he'd left it with.
Kai called out for California. It carried decently enough, but this was the sort of situation that Marshall’s loud voice was made for. When he tried to shout her name, however, he didn’t make it further than the first syllable before his voice cracked and he cut off, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to suppress any coughing.
It probably would have helped if he’d remembered to drink before they’d packed up. But the bottles were buried under the weapons Kai had handed him to carry in the tunnel.
The sound of voices calling in the distance rubbed Jacob's ears like sandpaper. He really, really didn't want to get up. What did it matter? His life, their lives, nothing would change by him rising to his feet and walking through the snow towards the approaching noise. Well, unless they killed him, of course. The voices were too faint to recognize just yet, so for all he knew, they were a pair of names that had been well featured on the announcements. He couldn't remember any groups from the announcements, but he knew that they usually only reported whoever did the finishing blow...
Jacob sighed, his head still resting against his legs. It would be so easy to just let them pass by. Probably less painful in the long run as well. If he was looking for a relatively painless death, he'd get it a lot more easily than waiting to freeze, or having them blow his collar. All the same, he couldn't help but notice that another emotion was poking through his despair, prodding at him with the familiar sting of a feeling he knew all too well: boredom.
As pointless as everything was, the thought of sitting here doing nothing for the rest of his life was, to put it mildly, not very pleasant. Of course, that didn't mean that he had changed his mind about whether life was worth living, but it was difficult to remain seated for long even at the best of times. Without any stimulation at all, the experience was likely to be agonizing. Jacob let out a soft groan of frustration. Even now, the feelings of restlessness had already started, and were only going to get worse from here. Calling back to the voices, as useless as it was, would at least be something to pass the time. Hey, maybe the experience might actually let him feel something other than depression, for once.
He rose to his feet, wiping an arm across his eyes, which definitely were not stinging from spending the last hour crying. Looking around soon revealed the approaching figures, still too far away to recognize, but close enough for them to make out their words. They seemed to be calling for another student, and no surprise, it was one that wasn't him. Jacob couldn't recall much about Cali, which wasn't a surprise either - he had never been involved in any social circles long enough to see her. It didn't really matter though. All that was left to happen was to have two new people walk into his life, and then unceremoniously leave, just like all the rest. He leaned out from behind the tree, waving to the pair as he shouted out to them.
"Hey, she's over here!"
Old habits die hard.
Jacob sighed, his head still resting against his legs. It would be so easy to just let them pass by. Probably less painful in the long run as well. If he was looking for a relatively painless death, he'd get it a lot more easily than waiting to freeze, or having them blow his collar. All the same, he couldn't help but notice that another emotion was poking through his despair, prodding at him with the familiar sting of a feeling he knew all too well: boredom.
As pointless as everything was, the thought of sitting here doing nothing for the rest of his life was, to put it mildly, not very pleasant. Of course, that didn't mean that he had changed his mind about whether life was worth living, but it was difficult to remain seated for long even at the best of times. Without any stimulation at all, the experience was likely to be agonizing. Jacob let out a soft groan of frustration. Even now, the feelings of restlessness had already started, and were only going to get worse from here. Calling back to the voices, as useless as it was, would at least be something to pass the time. Hey, maybe the experience might actually let him feel something other than depression, for once.
He rose to his feet, wiping an arm across his eyes, which definitely were not stinging from spending the last hour crying. Looking around soon revealed the approaching figures, still too far away to recognize, but close enough for them to make out their words. They seemed to be calling for another student, and no surprise, it was one that wasn't him. Jacob couldn't recall much about Cali, which wasn't a surprise either - he had never been involved in any social circles long enough to see her. It didn't really matter though. All that was left to happen was to have two new people walk into his life, and then unceremoniously leave, just like all the rest. He leaned out from behind the tree, waving to the pair as he shouted out to them.
"Hey, she's over here!"
Old habits die hard.
Kai hadn't necessarily expected an answer. Definitely hadn't expected someone else responding in Cali's stead. He shot a look at Marshall, but it was hard to actually convey much through a glance with the moisture still clinging to his glasses.
Immediately a dozen different scenarios ran through his mind. Cali was hurt or hiding, for someone else to have answered for her, or-
He knelt to deposit the bundle of weapons on the ground. Withdrew the shotgun from his bag. Didn't hold it up at the ready, but held it all the same.
"Where?" He called back, starting towards the blurry figure by the treeline with long strides. "What's happened?" Who am I talking to, might also have been a good one, but the truth was that Kai didn't care all that much in the moment. Another person he vaguely knew from years of passing each other in the halls. It was hard to care beyond that until he was given a reason to, now.
Numb, maybe. Worn down from hearing so many names and seeing so many faces that belonged to the dead now. Hard to make himself care about anyone he hadn't already cared about unless he really tried, beyond the vague.
The fact was that the most pressing reasons to care for who this guy was would be that he had either helped Cali or hurt her. Kai focused on getting over there first and deciding second whether he needed to care.
Immediately a dozen different scenarios ran through his mind. Cali was hurt or hiding, for someone else to have answered for her, or-
He knelt to deposit the bundle of weapons on the ground. Withdrew the shotgun from his bag. Didn't hold it up at the ready, but held it all the same.
"Where?" He called back, starting towards the blurry figure by the treeline with long strides. "What's happened?" Who am I talking to, might also have been a good one, but the truth was that Kai didn't care all that much in the moment. Another person he vaguely knew from years of passing each other in the halls. It was hard to care beyond that until he was given a reason to, now.
Numb, maybe. Worn down from hearing so many names and seeing so many faces that belonged to the dead now. Hard to make himself care about anyone he hadn't already cared about unless he really tried, beyond the vague.
The fact was that the most pressing reasons to care for who this guy was would be that he had either helped Cali or hurt her. Kai focused on getting over there first and deciding second whether he needed to care.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
That wasn’t California’s voice. Was she okay? Had she made an ally? Was she injured? Was that why she wasn’t calling out?
Marshall put down his bag as well. There was a weapon or two cluttering around in it, but he didn’t pick up any. He sped up the run, outpacing Kai in an effort to try and see what had happened. Warn him first, if need be. Nevermind that Kai had a shotgun, and Marshall had one functional hand.
He realised who was waving at them halfway over, as his eyes brought the figure into focus. That was Jacob Lang.
Marshall’s feet slowed momentarily.
Marshall did not like Jacob, or at least hadn’t back at school. Jacob had a tendency to lie, respond with jokes and sarcasm, and he was impossible to hold a straight a-to-b conversation with, or even to get a simple response from.
(When Marshall had been younger, there had been other boys that tended to zone in on Marshall for how easy it was to rile him up. His mother had said it was because they wanted to see his reactions. The logic of what people got out of that had always flown over Marshall’s head.)
But this was a serious situation. He wouldn’t prank right now. Right?
…
Hadn’t Jacob killed someone? No, wait… was that the other Jacob?
Kai outpaced Marshall again while he was trying to remember, so Marshall sped up again.
Didn’t matter. California was the priority.
Marshall put down his bag as well. There was a weapon or two cluttering around in it, but he didn’t pick up any. He sped up the run, outpacing Kai in an effort to try and see what had happened. Warn him first, if need be. Nevermind that Kai had a shotgun, and Marshall had one functional hand.
He realised who was waving at them halfway over, as his eyes brought the figure into focus. That was Jacob Lang.
Marshall’s feet slowed momentarily.
Marshall did not like Jacob, or at least hadn’t back at school. Jacob had a tendency to lie, respond with jokes and sarcasm, and he was impossible to hold a straight a-to-b conversation with, or even to get a simple response from.
(When Marshall had been younger, there had been other boys that tended to zone in on Marshall for how easy it was to rile him up. His mother had said it was because they wanted to see his reactions. The logic of what people got out of that had always flown over Marshall’s head.)
But this was a serious situation. He wouldn’t prank right now. Right?
…
Hadn’t Jacob killed someone? No, wait… was that the other Jacob?
Kai outpaced Marshall again while he was trying to remember, so Marshall sped up again.
Didn’t matter. California was the priority.
Jacob leaned against the tree as the two figures approached. He knew that both Kai and Marshall could have had no problem beating the shit out of him, even without the conflict being two-on-one. In all regards, his physical capabilities were obviously no match for theirs, and that was without getting into the fact that one of them was carrying some sort of firearm - or at least something that looked like one at this distance. All this logically should have been making Jacob quite nervous, especially since he had no plan of any kind for what to do next, but instead, all he could feel was... nothing, really.
Alright, well, that wasn't completely accurate. The sense of painful numbness continued to nag at him as he stood there, his gaze occupied just as much by the gently falling snow as it was by the two newcomers. All he was doing right now was just an extension of what he had been doing his whole life: wasting other people's time. It was really all he was good for, it seemed. He had no idea where California was, and frankly, he didn't really care. There was nothing he could do to help her, or these two guys, or anyone else for that matter. He was completely worthless to anyone, and who could really get worried about damage to something nobody cared about in the first place?
Still, that said, to take back his words so quickly felt like a waste. It was a stupid lie, and one that he had no way of backing up with any sort of evidence, but now that the words had left his mouth, he felt an obligation to follow up on them. It was the only amount of power he had at this point, really. The alternative would be to just apologize and watch them fade off into the snow like all the others, leaving him alone with his thoughts. In the worst case, this was just a distraction for him, and in the best case, well... maybe something interesting might happen, though at this point he honestly doubted it.
Jacob looked over at his two classmates once more, his eyes traveling between them as they continued their approach. He cocked his head to the side, flashing a smile which felt even more fake than usual and calling out to the two of them.
"Hello there, gentlemen! How are you doing this fine morning?"
Alright, well, that wasn't completely accurate. The sense of painful numbness continued to nag at him as he stood there, his gaze occupied just as much by the gently falling snow as it was by the two newcomers. All he was doing right now was just an extension of what he had been doing his whole life: wasting other people's time. It was really all he was good for, it seemed. He had no idea where California was, and frankly, he didn't really care. There was nothing he could do to help her, or these two guys, or anyone else for that matter. He was completely worthless to anyone, and who could really get worried about damage to something nobody cared about in the first place?
Still, that said, to take back his words so quickly felt like a waste. It was a stupid lie, and one that he had no way of backing up with any sort of evidence, but now that the words had left his mouth, he felt an obligation to follow up on them. It was the only amount of power he had at this point, really. The alternative would be to just apologize and watch them fade off into the snow like all the others, leaving him alone with his thoughts. In the worst case, this was just a distraction for him, and in the best case, well... maybe something interesting might happen, though at this point he honestly doubted it.
Jacob looked over at his two classmates once more, his eyes traveling between them as they continued their approach. He cocked his head to the side, flashing a smile which felt even more fake than usual and calling out to the two of them.
"Hello there, gentlemen! How are you doing this fine morning?"
Even though Kai had longer legs, Marshall quickly overtook his pace. He seemed agitated, from what little Kai could read of his body language right now. It wasn't a good time to stop and ask why, but the feeling that something was off took root a little bit deeper.
Kai also slowed as they reached the boy, who greeted them... casually? Cali was still nowhere in sight.
"I... where is she?" He asked. Confusion and unease. Was this some kind of trick? A trap? What for? He glanced around, but as far as he could tell, it was just the three of them. Then again, his glasses were so streaked with snow that someone might have been hanging around and Kai had looked right past them.
"What's going on?" His voice took on an edge, but it was still the confusion that won out for a moment.
Kai also slowed as they reached the boy, who greeted them... casually? Cali was still nowhere in sight.
"I... where is she?" He asked. Confusion and unease. Was this some kind of trick? A trap? What for? He glanced around, but as far as he could tell, it was just the three of them. Then again, his glasses were so streaked with snow that someone might have been hanging around and Kai had looked right past them.
"What's going on?" His voice took on an edge, but it was still the confusion that won out for a moment.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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- Posts: 1442
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Marshall stared around at the snow and the ice and the trees. No sign of California, no matter how much he strained his eyes. Kai’s voice spoke up. Confusion. Then something a little more than that.
It could be a trap… but no. That grin. That grin was familiar. It had been viewed many times in class, almost any time that Jacob spoke. (The subtleties that made it faker were lost on him.)
It’d been a prank.
That’s all this was. A stupid, juvenile prank like the million that Jacob had done back in school, lying for the sake of lying.
Back at school, Marshall would have lectured Jacob on how that was inappropriate behaviour, and ultimately moved on fairly quickly. A few days ago, even on island, he probably would have just sighed. An annoyance and nothing more. Harmless in the grand scheme of things.
Today…
Today, Marshall was done with the world, and the only thing that was keeping him moving today was the goal in front of him – that of finding California, of making sure she and Kai reunited, and the edge in Kai’s voice was like a knife in the ear.
So Marshall walked towards Jacob, feet starting slow but quickly speeding up, and he clenched his working hand into a fist and swung it squarely at Jacob’s infuriating, smug (fake) grin.
It could be a trap… but no. That grin. That grin was familiar. It had been viewed many times in class, almost any time that Jacob spoke. (The subtleties that made it faker were lost on him.)
It’d been a prank.
That’s all this was. A stupid, juvenile prank like the million that Jacob had done back in school, lying for the sake of lying.
Back at school, Marshall would have lectured Jacob on how that was inappropriate behaviour, and ultimately moved on fairly quickly. A few days ago, even on island, he probably would have just sighed. An annoyance and nothing more. Harmless in the grand scheme of things.
Today…
Today, Marshall was done with the world, and the only thing that was keeping him moving today was the goal in front of him – that of finding California, of making sure she and Kai reunited, and the edge in Kai’s voice was like a knife in the ear.
So Marshall walked towards Jacob, feet starting slow but quickly speeding up, and he clenched his working hand into a fist and swung it squarely at Jacob’s infuriating, smug (fake) grin.
Well, it had happened. For the first time since he got to this island, someone had actually responded to him with violence rather than annoyance. It really was a wonder that it happened sooner, but having it happen now put that question to rest. Cause had been met with effect, and the world kept turning, following the same rules over and over. The climax of Jacob's efforts to piss his classmates off had finally arrived, and he felt...
Nothing.
Well, that wasn't completely true. His jaw definitely hurt quite a bit, and so did the rest of his body - that tended to happen when one gets punched so hard that they land flat on their back, even if there was a cushioned landing below. The problem was that there was no satisfaction in it. Marshall had gotten angry, just as he intended, and Jacob had received the expected (if not desired) punishment. It was a complete sequence from start to finish... and it was just as pointless as everything else.
Jacob closed his eyes, laying still in the snow, wondering what they would do if he didn't get up. Maybe they'd think he was dead - that might be interesting.
Nothing.
Well, that wasn't completely true. His jaw definitely hurt quite a bit, and so did the rest of his body - that tended to happen when one gets punched so hard that they land flat on their back, even if there was a cushioned landing below. The problem was that there was no satisfaction in it. Marshall had gotten angry, just as he intended, and Jacob had received the expected (if not desired) punishment. It was a complete sequence from start to finish... and it was just as pointless as everything else.
Jacob closed his eyes, laying still in the snow, wondering what they would do if he didn't get up. Maybe they'd think he was dead - that might be interesting.
"Hey!"
Whatever the hell was going on, Kai's focus immediately flipped to Marshall. Marshall lunging forward and punching the other boy in the face without explanation or even an accusation. Kai lunged after him in turn, grabbing the back of his coat to haul him back.
"What are you doing!?"
Kai would give anything to stop experiencing this loop of deja vu. Meet people, coast for a while, and then everything goes south. Rinse and repeat forever.
The kind of situation that the island engineered for all of them, he guessed. It didn't stop it from feeling like there was a chisel pounding into some space where his will to keep going lived, chipping away at him bit by bit by bit with each new loop.
Jess and Chloe. DeMarcus and Dominiqua and Fred. Meena. Lily and her friend. Derek and Chiara. Ashlyn.
This boy whose name Kai didn't know, laid out in the snow by Marshall's fist right in front of him.
"Marshall," he ground out. "Tell me what's going on."
Whatever the hell was going on, Kai's focus immediately flipped to Marshall. Marshall lunging forward and punching the other boy in the face without explanation or even an accusation. Kai lunged after him in turn, grabbing the back of his coat to haul him back.
"What are you doing!?"
Kai would give anything to stop experiencing this loop of deja vu. Meet people, coast for a while, and then everything goes south. Rinse and repeat forever.
The kind of situation that the island engineered for all of them, he guessed. It didn't stop it from feeling like there was a chisel pounding into some space where his will to keep going lived, chipping away at him bit by bit by bit with each new loop.
Jess and Chloe. DeMarcus and Dominiqua and Fred. Meena. Lily and her friend. Derek and Chiara. Ashlyn.
This boy whose name Kai didn't know, laid out in the snow by Marshall's fist right in front of him.
"Marshall," he ground out. "Tell me what's going on."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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- Posts: 1442
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Marshall was yanked back, and briefly flailed to keep his balance. Not helped by the fact that all his weight had been thrown forward with that punch. He briefly pulled against Kai’s grip before stopping. His hand still clenched as he glared at Jacob.
“What’s wrong with you, Jacob?!”
Marshall couldn’t shout like he once could, his voice cracking and rasping at certain syllables, his throat feeling like sandpaper since sleeping in the cold last night. But the fact that he could only speak a little over a whisper just made his words sound angrier.
“Why are you like this? Why are you always like this? Have you just been doing this all week, since you got your kill on Day 1? You don’t need to play anymore, so you’re just being the same… same lying asshole you’ve always been?!”
He was so mad. He couldn’t even place why this enraged him so much, when he’d managed to talk to DeMarcus and Matthew with less disgust and rage than this.
“Why is it that you’re able to just… be here, doing your stupid pranks, instead of doing anything useful?! How come, when everyone who’s actually trying is getting gunned down, even when they’re trying to help, to reach for a better way of ending this game, and you… you’re not even trying! Not even playing, not even making a push one way or the other, you’re just… you’re just… what is the fucking point of you?!”
His words were getting incoherent. Marshall didn’t even know what he was trying to say anymore. But awareness, awareness in the hand clinging to his jacket, that Jacob wasn’t really moving and was just lying there… realization creeping in that Marshall wasn’t acting in an appropriate manner.
He lowered his hand, the knuckles loosening. They ached. Turned out that punching someone in the face hurt.
“...Nothing’s going on. Just the same sh--” Marshall paused, then said, “stuff as always.” The anger was quickly draining out of his voice, to be replaced with more tired. “You can let go. I’m not… I’m not gonna do it again.”
Still, he continued to glare at Jacob.
“What’s wrong with you, Jacob?!”
Marshall couldn’t shout like he once could, his voice cracking and rasping at certain syllables, his throat feeling like sandpaper since sleeping in the cold last night. But the fact that he could only speak a little over a whisper just made his words sound angrier.
“Why are you like this? Why are you always like this? Have you just been doing this all week, since you got your kill on Day 1? You don’t need to play anymore, so you’re just being the same… same lying asshole you’ve always been?!”
He was so mad. He couldn’t even place why this enraged him so much, when he’d managed to talk to DeMarcus and Matthew with less disgust and rage than this.
“Why is it that you’re able to just… be here, doing your stupid pranks, instead of doing anything useful?! How come, when everyone who’s actually trying is getting gunned down, even when they’re trying to help, to reach for a better way of ending this game, and you… you’re not even trying! Not even playing, not even making a push one way or the other, you’re just… you’re just… what is the fucking point of you?!”
His words were getting incoherent. Marshall didn’t even know what he was trying to say anymore. But awareness, awareness in the hand clinging to his jacket, that Jacob wasn’t really moving and was just lying there… realization creeping in that Marshall wasn’t acting in an appropriate manner.
He lowered his hand, the knuckles loosening. They ached. Turned out that punching someone in the face hurt.
“...Nothing’s going on. Just the same sh--” Marshall paused, then said, “stuff as always.” The anger was quickly draining out of his voice, to be replaced with more tired. “You can let go. I’m not… I’m not gonna do it again.”
Still, he continued to glare at Jacob.
Nope. In retrospect, it was a stupid idea, actually. Nobody died just from getting punched in the face... not usually, anyway. Given that information, nobody would be expected to feel much concern, at least not for someone as worthless as Jacob. Still, if he was going to do the act, might as well maintain it for a little bit longer, just to deny Marshall the catharsis of seeing someone react to his yelling. Nothing the guy was was anything Jacob hadn't thought, anyway, and arguing over the matter would be pointless. He knew that his actions couldn't be justified.
Finally, Marshall's voice went quiet. Jacob opened his eyes, slowly dragging himself to his feet before wobbling unsteadily for a moment, briefly overcome by a sense of nausea. The worsening pain in the back of his head made it clear that he had gone down a lot harder than he had initially thought - it turns out the snow wasn't actually that soft after all. Trying his best to ignore the discomfort, he looked up to Marshall, meeting his angry gaze with a disinterested expression.
"So, are you done?"
Without waiting for a response, he turned his back on the group, staring across the frozen lake. This was so boring. Nothing he did seemed to ease the overwhelming sense of futility that came over him, but if he just left... then this whole interaction would have been even more worthless. He took a step forward. He didn't want to stay here, but there was only one way he could go. He didn't know if it was possible to cross the lake, even in this weather. Probably not, honestly, but at this point, he didn't really care. If he made it, he made it, and if he didn't... well, he didn't really feel much like living anyway, so it wasn't much of a loss. He sighed, glancing behind him and speaking one final time.
"Alright, alright, you got your wish. I'm going. Have fun looking for..." He paused for a moment."... whatever her name was."
With that, he started his stride forward, quickly reaching the lake. Jacob stuck a food out, gingerly testing his weight against the ice below. Satisfied, he stepped onto the slippery surface, moving slowly and carefully in order to avoid tripping.
Finally, Marshall's voice went quiet. Jacob opened his eyes, slowly dragging himself to his feet before wobbling unsteadily for a moment, briefly overcome by a sense of nausea. The worsening pain in the back of his head made it clear that he had gone down a lot harder than he had initially thought - it turns out the snow wasn't actually that soft after all. Trying his best to ignore the discomfort, he looked up to Marshall, meeting his angry gaze with a disinterested expression.
"So, are you done?"
Without waiting for a response, he turned his back on the group, staring across the frozen lake. This was so boring. Nothing he did seemed to ease the overwhelming sense of futility that came over him, but if he just left... then this whole interaction would have been even more worthless. He took a step forward. He didn't want to stay here, but there was only one way he could go. He didn't know if it was possible to cross the lake, even in this weather. Probably not, honestly, but at this point, he didn't really care. If he made it, he made it, and if he didn't... well, he didn't really feel much like living anyway, so it wasn't much of a loss. He sighed, glancing behind him and speaking one final time.
"Alright, alright, you got your wish. I'm going. Have fun looking for..." He paused for a moment."... whatever her name was."
With that, he started his stride forward, quickly reaching the lake. Jacob stuck a food out, gingerly testing his weight against the ice below. Satisfied, he stepped onto the slippery surface, moving slowly and carefully in order to avoid tripping.
((California Fox continued from Red Cat, White Fox))
She had been drawn to the yelling.
Like a dog to its owner or a moth to a flame. She heard Marshall’s voice in the distance and had made her way towards it.
Her delayed arrival was because she had become lost. After the encounter with Kitty she had wandered the rest of the road before realising that it had taken her to the town, which was the wrong place. She’d had to turn around and head back the way she’d originally come then stepped off the road and into the forest, which caused its own problems. Unlike Kai, and she assumed Marshall, she’d never used a map before and trying to use one when surrounded by identical looking trees had been next to impossible. Eventually she aborted the plan and had intended to return to the road, but by then she had become lost and had to forge ahead in a single direction.
Luckily it had worked out.
She had been able to get back on a track that took her where she needed to go. But as she’d been heading towards the lake she had heard the sounds of Marshall’s yelling.
When everything appeared in her view California was at least relieved that no one appeared hurt.
Kai and Marshall were both okay and had managed to avoid being found by Kitty.
Although given the scene, California wasn’t sure they were actually alright.
“Kai?” She called, “What’s going on?”
She had been drawn to the yelling.
Like a dog to its owner or a moth to a flame. She heard Marshall’s voice in the distance and had made her way towards it.
Her delayed arrival was because she had become lost. After the encounter with Kitty she had wandered the rest of the road before realising that it had taken her to the town, which was the wrong place. She’d had to turn around and head back the way she’d originally come then stepped off the road and into the forest, which caused its own problems. Unlike Kai, and she assumed Marshall, she’d never used a map before and trying to use one when surrounded by identical looking trees had been next to impossible. Eventually she aborted the plan and had intended to return to the road, but by then she had become lost and had to forge ahead in a single direction.
Luckily it had worked out.
She had been able to get back on a track that took her where she needed to go. But as she’d been heading towards the lake she had heard the sounds of Marshall’s yelling.
When everything appeared in her view California was at least relieved that no one appeared hurt.
Kai and Marshall were both okay and had managed to avoid being found by Kitty.
Although given the scene, California wasn’t sure they were actually alright.
“Kai?” She called, “What’s going on?”
Kai tensed again when Marshall unloaded all of... that... on Jacob, but little by little the tension in his shoulders actually dropped.
Just some schoolyard grudge. That's all this was. Some guy just messing with them for no apparent reason, and Marshall taking issue with it the way Marshall did. That was it. It felt so pointless and petty that Kai couldn't stay angry at it. Not actively. He wasn't happy by any stretch, but Jacob was already slinking off without much of a rebuttal.
He was all ready to let Jacob go and tell Marshall that they ought to either make camp here to wait or start plotting out a way towards the trapping camp, but it seemed that either luck or some higher power that actually did exist had decided to throw Kai a bone for once. His head snapped towards the sound of Cali's voice so quickly he could have given himself whiplash. Just like that first sight of Kitty on the road so many days ago, everything else was momentarily forgotten as he made a beeline for her.
"Hey," he said, uselessly, as he reached her. "I- don't really know. It's nothing. Some dumb argument. It's already broken up. Are you okay?" The words tumbled out faster than he was used to speaking. Cali was still blurry in his vision thanks to his streaky glasses, but she was here and real and didn't seem immediately hurt. That was all he could ask for.
Just some schoolyard grudge. That's all this was. Some guy just messing with them for no apparent reason, and Marshall taking issue with it the way Marshall did. That was it. It felt so pointless and petty that Kai couldn't stay angry at it. Not actively. He wasn't happy by any stretch, but Jacob was already slinking off without much of a rebuttal.
He was all ready to let Jacob go and tell Marshall that they ought to either make camp here to wait or start plotting out a way towards the trapping camp, but it seemed that either luck or some higher power that actually did exist had decided to throw Kai a bone for once. His head snapped towards the sound of Cali's voice so quickly he could have given himself whiplash. Just like that first sight of Kitty on the road so many days ago, everything else was momentarily forgotten as he made a beeline for her.
"Hey," he said, uselessly, as he reached her. "I- don't really know. It's nothing. Some dumb argument. It's already broken up. Are you okay?" The words tumbled out faster than he was used to speaking. Cali was still blurry in his vision thanks to his streaky glasses, but she was here and real and didn't seem immediately hurt. That was all he could ask for.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."