"I'm going to kill you last."
...
"Well, first too, I suppose. Hmm...the math on this is hard. But, at some point, someone is going to try to stop you too right? And you can't let someone be a killer and get off yeah? If you do all the killing, I kill you, I kill myself, the last person goes home scott free."
Yeah...this was a bit idealistic, but Marcus liked looking on the bright side of things. He liked Joe's plan, Nothing left to lose...so why not? He believed in Joe to pull it off. He was smart, he had already killed, and he clearly did not want any killers left, no matter what.
...Ah, he might be being rude here. He had just included himself in the plan without a second thought. He wanted to help Joe badly. If this was how it works, he was for it.
"Hypothetically, of course. You'd have to secure someone without any kills to go home safely. There's probably a few left, I would think."
Ack. Stale piece of bread pierced his gums.
So annoying...
Metastasis
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Un-Persona*
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ViolentMedic
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"No."
He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have told Marcus. Disgust, he could handle. Not this. He couldn't... Marcus wasn't meant to agree with him. Even if he did, he wasn't meant to... oh god, what had he done?
"No, no, no, it's not supposed to... you're not supposed to... I can't involve you in this. I can't, I... no. I know someone'll eventually come after me, but... no, you can't. You don't... you don't deserve to get mixed up in it. You don't want to get mixed up in it. I don't want to be mixed up in it, but I lost the chance to stay out of it about five minutes after I woke up! No, you... no."
Joe covered his face.
"I don't want you to kill. I don't want you to die."
If he could choose anyone to leave this game alive...
"You can't kill. You can't die. You're not allowed." There was a somewhat childish whine in his voice. He didn't want to contemplate either option. Especially either option being his fault. And it was an impossible demand. The terrorists said that if the winner hadn't killed, they'd get thrown back in.
He was just sick of losing people.
He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have told Marcus. Disgust, he could handle. Not this. He couldn't... Marcus wasn't meant to agree with him. Even if he did, he wasn't meant to... oh god, what had he done?
"No, no, no, it's not supposed to... you're not supposed to... I can't involve you in this. I can't, I... no. I know someone'll eventually come after me, but... no, you can't. You don't... you don't deserve to get mixed up in it. You don't want to get mixed up in it. I don't want to be mixed up in it, but I lost the chance to stay out of it about five minutes after I woke up! No, you... no."
Joe covered his face.
"I don't want you to kill. I don't want you to die."
If he could choose anyone to leave this game alive...
"You can't kill. You can't die. You're not allowed." There was a somewhat childish whine in his voice. He didn't want to contemplate either option. Especially either option being his fault. And it was an impossible demand. The terrorists said that if the winner hadn't killed, they'd get thrown back in.
He was just sick of losing people.
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Un-Persona*
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"If that's what you think is best."
Joe probably already had this all articulated and whatnot. Marcus could have almost ruined everything. He hadn't really thought about what else Joe had wanted. Didn't want. Semantics.
With that though, he began to pack his things into his bag. It only made sense after all. Being around Joe would be dangerous and might get Marcus killed, and Joe wouldn't want that. Still though, he wanted to help somehow.
He reached into his bag and pulled out his Falchion.
"Do you need this?"
Joe probably already had this all articulated and whatnot. Marcus could have almost ruined everything. He hadn't really thought about what else Joe had wanted. Didn't want. Semantics.
With that though, he began to pack his things into his bag. It only made sense after all. Being around Joe would be dangerous and might get Marcus killed, and Joe wouldn't want that. Still though, he wanted to help somehow.
He reached into his bag and pulled out his Falchion.
"Do you need this?"
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ViolentMedic
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Joe peeked through his fingers and shut them again on seeing the sword Marcus was offering him. He didn't like being offered help. Not for this.
"I'm fine." Joe nudged the scythe with his foot. "Fine."
He rocked back and forth for a moment. He didn't know how to feel about anything. If Marcus stuck around him, he'd be dragged into dangerous situations and probably die. If he left, he could easily die. Joe didn't want him killing, but it would take one kill for anyone to be able to leave. Maybe part of Marcus' plan was on point. Just not the Marcus dying bit.
"Okay, look. Keep that. Don't... don't use it on anyone else. But if by some kind of messed up miracle we're the only two left... well. Then you can just kill me. Okay?"
It would be okay if Joe gave permission, right? That wouldn't be murder. Assisted suicide, at most. Still bad. There'd still be a lot of harsh words from their church, that was for sure. But God would know these were special circumstances, wouldn't he?
"In the meantime... there's a mostly intact barricade at the bottom floor of the shopping center. If... if you need somewhere to hide. It's not... not impenetrable, but..."
"I'm fine." Joe nudged the scythe with his foot. "Fine."
He rocked back and forth for a moment. He didn't know how to feel about anything. If Marcus stuck around him, he'd be dragged into dangerous situations and probably die. If he left, he could easily die. Joe didn't want him killing, but it would take one kill for anyone to be able to leave. Maybe part of Marcus' plan was on point. Just not the Marcus dying bit.
"Okay, look. Keep that. Don't... don't use it on anyone else. But if by some kind of messed up miracle we're the only two left... well. Then you can just kill me. Okay?"
It would be okay if Joe gave permission, right? That wouldn't be murder. Assisted suicide, at most. Still bad. There'd still be a lot of harsh words from their church, that was for sure. But God would know these were special circumstances, wouldn't he?
"In the meantime... there's a mostly intact barricade at the bottom floor of the shopping center. If... if you need somewhere to hide. It's not... not impenetrable, but..."
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Un-Persona*
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A miracle, huh? It sounded more like a tragedy. Marcus wanted someone who didn't want any kills to win, and he knew Joe felt the same. They were optimists, and with that came sadness. But, even if it was by accident, they had come to something of a compromise. Not quite there, but almost.
Marcus tucked his sword away back into his bag, as Joe talked about a hiding place, a barricade. Sounds interesting, and useful for his own devices. He'd definitely had to check it out at some point. Maybe fine someone else to put there, till it was time to engage the final steps. Yes, yes, this was sounding very good...
"I'll look our for it. You do your thing, and I promise I'll try my best."
Another smile.
Marcus took off his cap again briefly, this time as a goodbye, and left.
((Marcus Leung: B047 - V5 - Continued In J'adoube))
Marcus tucked his sword away back into his bag, as Joe talked about a hiding place, a barricade. Sounds interesting, and useful for his own devices. He'd definitely had to check it out at some point. Maybe fine someone else to put there, till it was time to engage the final steps. Yes, yes, this was sounding very good...
"I'll look our for it. You do your thing, and I promise I'll try my best."
Another smile.
Marcus took off his cap again briefly, this time as a goodbye, and left.
((Marcus Leung: B047 - V5 - Continued In J'adoube))
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ViolentMedic
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Try his best. That was all he could do. No promises towards staying alive. No-one could promise that.
"O-okay."
And then he left, before Joe could say anything else. Like 'please don't leave yet. Just one more minute.' There was nothing to say, not really. Joe just felt like he should say something. What if he never got another chance? But too late for that. Now Marcus was gone again. It had been so brief, and so out-of-nowhere, that Joe was half-sure he'd hallucinated it entirely.
He'd just have to try and make sure there was no-one left who could remove that chance. It was unlikely. But a gangly nerd with anxiety issues and a fear of blood living this long had been unlikely, too.
Joe looked at the post-its. Then he retrieved his map from his bag. He crossed out any location that had been permanently danger zoned.
There were only five areas left. They were being forced together. That meant less places for murderers to hide. If he combed every inch of those five areas...
Joe retrieved the post-it notes with killers written on them, and shoved them into his pocket along with the unused remaining post-its. He stuck his things, including several mostly-used pens, into his bag. He had no time to waste.
And if he got rid of them all... if like Marcus wanted, it came down to him, Marcus and another innocent person... or even just a group of people who didn't deserve to die...
...Then what?
Joe picked up the scythe last. He fiddled about with it for a moment, frowning.
He'd figure that out if it happened.
((Joe Carrasco continued in Tomorrow is the most important thing in life.))
"O-okay."
And then he left, before Joe could say anything else. Like 'please don't leave yet. Just one more minute.' There was nothing to say, not really. Joe just felt like he should say something. What if he never got another chance? But too late for that. Now Marcus was gone again. It had been so brief, and so out-of-nowhere, that Joe was half-sure he'd hallucinated it entirely.
He'd just have to try and make sure there was no-one left who could remove that chance. It was unlikely. But a gangly nerd with anxiety issues and a fear of blood living this long had been unlikely, too.
Joe looked at the post-its. Then he retrieved his map from his bag. He crossed out any location that had been permanently danger zoned.
There were only five areas left. They were being forced together. That meant less places for murderers to hide. If he combed every inch of those five areas...
Joe retrieved the post-it notes with killers written on them, and shoved them into his pocket along with the unused remaining post-its. He stuck his things, including several mostly-used pens, into his bag. He had no time to waste.
And if he got rid of them all... if like Marcus wanted, it came down to him, Marcus and another innocent person... or even just a group of people who didn't deserve to die...
...Then what?
Joe picked up the scythe last. He fiddled about with it for a moment, frowning.
He'd figure that out if it happened.
((Joe Carrasco continued in Tomorrow is the most important thing in life.))