“Uh. Well. I mean, uh, not really, nothing intentionally… I mean, uh…”
God, come on, dipshit. What was the point in trying to hide shit anymore, beating around the bush and being all coy? He’d literally just seen Ivy’s goddamn tits, neither of them had anything to hide anymore. Wasn’t that the first step of trust? Of teamwork? Not telling even the tiniest white lie?
Yeah. It was. It was just… man. He wasn’t used to this, speaking without putting on the asshole veneer, the smug douchebag incel front. It was pretty pathetic, honestly, that somebody who wasn’t his mom or dad was talking to him like he was an actual human being, and he was stumbling over his words like this.
Felt pretty neato, though. Another sign that, whatever the outcome, he was following the right path.
“Sorry,” he said, scratching behind his neck. “I know it wasn’t my place to pry, and I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything, but… yeah, I overheard a couple things. I know it was, uh… someone’s name on the announcement really hit you hard. Right?”
He paused, looking down at his feet again for a moment, before fixing Ivy with an earnest look on his face.
“I’m, uh. I’m sorry. About whoever it was.”
Énouement
The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self. (Day 7, Private)
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"Wyatt."
She let herself make eye contact.
"It was Wyatt."
It was so recent, only some hours past, but saying it still felt to Ivy like digging a hole in her heart and pulling things out best left buried. She had to keep the worst of it down, she had to protect herself, you're going to be okay, Myles had said, and she would be. Part of recovery was taste-testing his name. It was maybe sooner than she should have tried it, maybe in a few days she'd feel less like her chest was about to explode, but that was okay. The future waited for her to mourn. This wasn't mourning. It was just words.
"I know you don't care. Most people don't, I'm sure, or else they're happy, probably half the island was delighted, honestly. Myles doesn't care either. I get it, I guess."
They'd be happy if she died, too.
"I know what he's—what he was like. I'm not going to, like, try to convince you to be upset or say something about how only I knew the real him or whatever, he was who he was and I loved him anyway" and the words were out of her mouth and on camera and couldn't be taken back and she wasn't mourning, she wasn't, it was just words, it didn't mean anything, her heartbeat throbbed dully in her chest. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
"It doesn't matter," because it didn't. She'd shove it back into the hole she'd dug it out from. But—
"You get it, I guess. In a way."
"Missing someone the world doesn't care about."
She let herself make eye contact.
"It was Wyatt."
It was so recent, only some hours past, but saying it still felt to Ivy like digging a hole in her heart and pulling things out best left buried. She had to keep the worst of it down, she had to protect herself, you're going to be okay, Myles had said, and she would be. Part of recovery was taste-testing his name. It was maybe sooner than she should have tried it, maybe in a few days she'd feel less like her chest was about to explode, but that was okay. The future waited for her to mourn. This wasn't mourning. It was just words.
"I know you don't care. Most people don't, I'm sure, or else they're happy, probably half the island was delighted, honestly. Myles doesn't care either. I get it, I guess."
They'd be happy if she died, too.
"I know what he's—what he was like. I'm not going to, like, try to convince you to be upset or say something about how only I knew the real him or whatever, he was who he was and I loved him anyway" and the words were out of her mouth and on camera and couldn't be taken back and she wasn't mourning, she wasn't, it was just words, it didn't mean anything, her heartbeat throbbed dully in her chest. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
"It doesn't matter," because it didn't. She'd shove it back into the hole she'd dug it out from. But—
"You get it, I guess. In a way."
"Missing someone the world doesn't care about."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 1184
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Jonathan stared at Emmett, trying to process what Emmett was saying to him and he knew that there was nothing for him to process. He guessed that it made sense that Emmett was going to start going down a path that he shouldn't cross and there was no way for Jonathan to stop the other boy from doing what he wanted to do. He wasn't going to try to slash at him like he was some lunatic and he couldn't change Emmett's mind.
"....I'm not going to stop you, Emmett." He said simply as he stepped closer to the other boy and he leaned back against a tree that was behind him, keeping his eyes on Emmett. "I feel like I can't talk you out of it anyway and I'm not going to kill you. Your actions are not my responsibility. Don't try to put that on me..."
He frowned slightly and he kicked at the dirt on the ground, feeling that he should just let Emmett go.
"I thought about it, you know. Killing someone.... Just one person and then trying to survive to go back home. Now I just.... I don't know. How does anyone get into that mindset? No one is pretending here. A lot of us here are trying to hold onto our humanity."
He paused briefly as he heard the slight noise of an animal in the distance.
"....You know that they'll keep doing this even if you do kill yourself at the end, Emmett." Jonathan sighed in disbelief and he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "Meka died because I-"
He trailed off and he glanced away, feeling a wave of anger towards himself and Emmett.
"...Hit me."
"....I'm not going to stop you, Emmett." He said simply as he stepped closer to the other boy and he leaned back against a tree that was behind him, keeping his eyes on Emmett. "I feel like I can't talk you out of it anyway and I'm not going to kill you. Your actions are not my responsibility. Don't try to put that on me..."
He frowned slightly and he kicked at the dirt on the ground, feeling that he should just let Emmett go.
"I thought about it, you know. Killing someone.... Just one person and then trying to survive to go back home. Now I just.... I don't know. How does anyone get into that mindset? No one is pretending here. A lot of us here are trying to hold onto our humanity."
He paused briefly as he heard the slight noise of an animal in the distance.
"....You know that they'll keep doing this even if you do kill yourself at the end, Emmett." Jonathan sighed in disbelief and he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "Meka died because I-"
He trailed off and he glanced away, feeling a wave of anger towards himself and Emmett.
"...Hit me."
“Yeah,” he said. “I get it. I understand.”
It was simple. It was all that needed to be said.
He didn’t like Wyatt. Obviously. He thought he could count the number of people who did on a single hand. He knew he, himself, wasn’t exactly the cream of the crop at George Hunter High, but when you were all that and loud as dicks, you attracted animosity like flies on a turd. But he’d had a brother, a brother who had clearly cared about him. And Ivy had as well. Even if she hadn’t spelled it out, it was obvious in her voice, in the look in her eyes. There was something to him, something that Garren had missed. Something that he’d never get to witness.
And he didn’t know, really, how much he missed Demetri. Or, hell, whether he even did at all. He supposed, on balance, he did. It was hard not to miss the only person who’d willingly speak to you for so many fucking years. There’d been good memories, even cutting aside all of the echoed meninist, incel bullshit. Dumb things. Little things. Playing video games together, watching shitty anime, that time Garren had broken the ice machine and utterly fucking coated the floor of a Burger King in slush. Yeah. Honest-to-God good times. And he knew that there were people who would have felt their heart ripped from their chest upon hearing Demetri’s name on the announcement, that there had to be at least one person swallowed up by despair at the news.
He couldn’t quite feel that way, didn’t think he could truly do so about anybody on the island, but he didn’t need to. He knew that when someone the world didn’t give a shit about passed away, all that was left was jubilation and relief. And, God, how crushing must it be, to see the world react in such a way to someone you loved?
“I wonder-”
The words tumbled from his mouth involuntarily, and he could only catch them midway, eyes widening, stammering incoherently as he looked at Ivy. He coughed, sighed, then leant forwards, arms resting on his knees.
“Sorry. Just… Just speaking my thoughts out loud. Just…”
He shrugged, glancing across at Ivy again.
“I dunno if there’s anybody who’ll miss me.”
He blinked, twice, in rapid succession, but no more than that.
It was simple. It was all that needed to be said.
He didn’t like Wyatt. Obviously. He thought he could count the number of people who did on a single hand. He knew he, himself, wasn’t exactly the cream of the crop at George Hunter High, but when you were all that and loud as dicks, you attracted animosity like flies on a turd. But he’d had a brother, a brother who had clearly cared about him. And Ivy had as well. Even if she hadn’t spelled it out, it was obvious in her voice, in the look in her eyes. There was something to him, something that Garren had missed. Something that he’d never get to witness.
And he didn’t know, really, how much he missed Demetri. Or, hell, whether he even did at all. He supposed, on balance, he did. It was hard not to miss the only person who’d willingly speak to you for so many fucking years. There’d been good memories, even cutting aside all of the echoed meninist, incel bullshit. Dumb things. Little things. Playing video games together, watching shitty anime, that time Garren had broken the ice machine and utterly fucking coated the floor of a Burger King in slush. Yeah. Honest-to-God good times. And he knew that there were people who would have felt their heart ripped from their chest upon hearing Demetri’s name on the announcement, that there had to be at least one person swallowed up by despair at the news.
He couldn’t quite feel that way, didn’t think he could truly do so about anybody on the island, but he didn’t need to. He knew that when someone the world didn’t give a shit about passed away, all that was left was jubilation and relief. And, God, how crushing must it be, to see the world react in such a way to someone you loved?
“I wonder-”
The words tumbled from his mouth involuntarily, and he could only catch them midway, eyes widening, stammering incoherently as he looked at Ivy. He coughed, sighed, then leant forwards, arms resting on his knees.
“Sorry. Just… Just speaking my thoughts out loud. Just…”
He shrugged, glancing across at Ivy again.
“I dunno if there’s anybody who’ll miss me.”
He blinked, twice, in rapid succession, but no more than that.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
It was funny.
Funny wasn't the word, or maybe it was. It didn't make her want to laugh except in that strained, sad way you did when your emotions were impossible to order. It wasn't really strange, either. It still felt like the right feeling, some other kind of funny she couldn't quite grasp the definition of. Ironic, maybe. It was funny, it was ironic, hearing those words out of Garren's mouth, of course a loser like him would worry about that, he had no friends. No one would look at Ivy Langley and go, how tragic, who would miss her. How sad. She didn't want pity, so that was all for the best, but. But.
"What about back home?"
There was the rub.
"Your family?"
Maybe his parents hated him, maybe he hated them, maybe it was a stupid thing to bring up. She didn't know him. It was only a feeling.
Ivy Langley, how tragic, who would miss her. Who would be left to?
Funny wasn't the word, or maybe it was. It didn't make her want to laugh except in that strained, sad way you did when your emotions were impossible to order. It wasn't really strange, either. It still felt like the right feeling, some other kind of funny she couldn't quite grasp the definition of. Ironic, maybe. It was funny, it was ironic, hearing those words out of Garren's mouth, of course a loser like him would worry about that, he had no friends. No one would look at Ivy Langley and go, how tragic, who would miss her. How sad. She didn't want pity, so that was all for the best, but. But.
"What about back home?"
There was the rub.
"Your family?"
Maybe his parents hated him, maybe he hated them, maybe it was a stupid thing to bring up. She didn't know him. It was only a feeling.
Ivy Langley, how tragic, who would miss her. Who would be left to?
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
“I, uh…”
Fuck. Fuck, he really, really didn’t want to think about this.
“I guess so.”
There was enough on his plate already, everything that had happened to him on the island combining with everything he wanted to get done crowding his mind and preventing any new thoughts from entering without causing the whole fucking thing to catch fire. He had plenty of people out here he needed to worry about; Myles, Ivy, now Declyn, Jonathan and Emmett if they were all sticking together out here. He couldn’t afford to think about his folks back home.
Because in all honesty, he was terrified that the moment he did, he’d become petrified into inactivity.
“I know my mom and dad will.”
Would they be watching, seeking out the videos of him on the grimy corners of the internet that he used to dwell on? He doubted it, thank god. He didn’t think they could bear to see him suffering. He knew they wouldn’t want to see him hurt. They’d always given him the very best that they could give, treated him with love and care that he didn’t deserve, as he threw it all away behind their backs. He never told them that he loved them enough. He hoped, somehow, that they knew, anyway.
“Leo… maybe. It’s been a while since we talked. Him being at college and all.”
Maybe Leo would watch the tapes, catch glimpses of his brother, hear the voice of the sibling he’d never really gotten to know, never spent much time with, trying to find some way to connect long after it was all said and done, through screens and lenses and miles and miles of wire.
“And, Stefanie…”
He looked down at the ground again, immediately falling silent. If there was one bridge he wished he hadn’t torched, one crack he would do anything to paper over, there it was, plain as day.
“Well. Yeah. I guess you’re right, huh? Guess there are people who’d miss me.”
He shrugged again, looking across once more at Ivy, eyes just visible below his fringe.
“People I took for granted until it was too fucking late.”
Fuck. Fuck, he really, really didn’t want to think about this.
“I guess so.”
There was enough on his plate already, everything that had happened to him on the island combining with everything he wanted to get done crowding his mind and preventing any new thoughts from entering without causing the whole fucking thing to catch fire. He had plenty of people out here he needed to worry about; Myles, Ivy, now Declyn, Jonathan and Emmett if they were all sticking together out here. He couldn’t afford to think about his folks back home.
Because in all honesty, he was terrified that the moment he did, he’d become petrified into inactivity.
“I know my mom and dad will.”
Would they be watching, seeking out the videos of him on the grimy corners of the internet that he used to dwell on? He doubted it, thank god. He didn’t think they could bear to see him suffering. He knew they wouldn’t want to see him hurt. They’d always given him the very best that they could give, treated him with love and care that he didn’t deserve, as he threw it all away behind their backs. He never told them that he loved them enough. He hoped, somehow, that they knew, anyway.
“Leo… maybe. It’s been a while since we talked. Him being at college and all.”
Maybe Leo would watch the tapes, catch glimpses of his brother, hear the voice of the sibling he’d never really gotten to know, never spent much time with, trying to find some way to connect long after it was all said and done, through screens and lenses and miles and miles of wire.
“And, Stefanie…”
He looked down at the ground again, immediately falling silent. If there was one bridge he wished he hadn’t torched, one crack he would do anything to paper over, there it was, plain as day.
“Well. Yeah. I guess you’re right, huh? Guess there are people who’d miss me.”
He shrugged again, looking across once more at Ivy, eyes just visible below his fringe.
“People I took for granted until it was too fucking late.”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"It doesn't really matter."
Ivy shrugged.
"They'll only remember the good things when you're dead."
She was glad she was right, at least; if it turned out he was estranged from his family or whatever the inherent awkwardness of this conversation might swallow them both whole. It must be nice, she almost said, but that felt petty too.
Her dad was back home, and she didn't want to think about him, because he wouldn't think about her, not any longer than he needed to. Long enough to make new business plans. Have someone draft some kind of eulogy so he looked sympathetic. Probably reporters would try to talk to him and he'd shut them out and people would say oh, how sad, he's grieving, but she knew. She'd spent her entire life looking for something more than disappointment from her father and she probably never would have gotten it. It felt fitting enough for that to be the last impression she left.
Her mother would forget, probably. Maybe not entirely, maybe not forever, but enough. She wouldn't mourn. She'd just be confused. One day in a few months she'd wake up and ask a maid if Ivy was back from school and the maid would say "she went to a friend's house" and she would smile and nod and drink another bottle of wine and her name wouldn't come back out of her mouth for a year and it would just be like that forever. There'd be new maids who didn't know who she was. They'd turn her room into another one of her father's offices.
Gyu-ri and Keisha were at home and maybe they'd be sad for a little while. That was the best she could hope for.
"High school stuff is temporary anyway. Like I probably wouldn't have seen almost anyone here again after graduation."
Her cat would miss her the most. No one could explain to Lion what happened to her. She yanked her eyes away from Garren, staring out at the lake again, blinking back tears, before looking back out in the direction they'd came from.
He was taking too long. This was taking too long.
"Anyone but Myles."
Ivy shrugged.
"They'll only remember the good things when you're dead."
She was glad she was right, at least; if it turned out he was estranged from his family or whatever the inherent awkwardness of this conversation might swallow them both whole. It must be nice, she almost said, but that felt petty too.
Her dad was back home, and she didn't want to think about him, because he wouldn't think about her, not any longer than he needed to. Long enough to make new business plans. Have someone draft some kind of eulogy so he looked sympathetic. Probably reporters would try to talk to him and he'd shut them out and people would say oh, how sad, he's grieving, but she knew. She'd spent her entire life looking for something more than disappointment from her father and she probably never would have gotten it. It felt fitting enough for that to be the last impression she left.
Her mother would forget, probably. Maybe not entirely, maybe not forever, but enough. She wouldn't mourn. She'd just be confused. One day in a few months she'd wake up and ask a maid if Ivy was back from school and the maid would say "she went to a friend's house" and she would smile and nod and drink another bottle of wine and her name wouldn't come back out of her mouth for a year and it would just be like that forever. There'd be new maids who didn't know who she was. They'd turn her room into another one of her father's offices.
Gyu-ri and Keisha were at home and maybe they'd be sad for a little while. That was the best she could hope for.
"High school stuff is temporary anyway. Like I probably wouldn't have seen almost anyone here again after graduation."
Her cat would miss her the most. No one could explain to Lion what happened to her. She yanked her eyes away from Garren, staring out at the lake again, blinking back tears, before looking back out in the direction they'd came from.
He was taking too long. This was taking too long.
"Anyone but Myles."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
There was a spot of Declyn's blood on Myles's shirt. He hadn't noticed it until he glanced down to make sure that his shirt was still covering the gun and the new knife. He rubbed at it, but it had already set into the fabric, but maybe it wasn't too noticeable. His shirt was darker-colored, and it had already collected its share of sweat stains and grime.
Ivy and Garren had moved closer to the lakeside. Garren had set their stuff in a pile behind them, and Myles was able to feel a twinge of irritation that he'd just left it there out of his line of sight, but honestly, it was better for Myles that way. The waterfall kept his footsteps from being obvious as he approached, giving him a precious few seconds to yank his bag out of the pile and crouch over it. He tore the zipper open, frantically shoved the gun and extra knife in with his belongings before anyone could turn around, and then snatched up one of his last bottles of water.
The water was hot, of course, and it didn't refresh him. He just needed something to focus on, to slow down the beating of his heart before it made him sick.
At least Jonathan and Emmett had stayed in their own space. Myles couldn't deal with either of their stupid faces right now. He finished drinking with a gasp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
His vision was still blurry, but he wasn't looking directly at Ivy or Garren anyway.
Ivy and Garren had moved closer to the lakeside. Garren had set their stuff in a pile behind them, and Myles was able to feel a twinge of irritation that he'd just left it there out of his line of sight, but honestly, it was better for Myles that way. The waterfall kept his footsteps from being obvious as he approached, giving him a precious few seconds to yank his bag out of the pile and crouch over it. He tore the zipper open, frantically shoved the gun and extra knife in with his belongings before anyone could turn around, and then snatched up one of his last bottles of water.
The water was hot, of course, and it didn't refresh him. He just needed something to focus on, to slow down the beating of his heart before it made him sick.
At least Jonathan and Emmett had stayed in their own space. Myles couldn't deal with either of their stupid faces right now. He finished drinking with a gasp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
His vision was still blurry, but he wasn't looking directly at Ivy or Garren anyway.
"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."
Emmett stared stonefaced. Jonathan wasn’t getting it. He didn’t see it from Emmett’s point of view. He let him talk because that was all he could do now anyways. Emmett made up his mind.
This place was too far gone. Everyone was too far gone. Jonathan tried to bring up someone he knew who died to try and relate. He stopped. Maybe he finally got it?
...No.
No he didn’t.
Emmett obliged Jonathan, swinging the butt of his gun up towards his nose.
Maybe he got it now?
This place was too far gone. Everyone was too far gone. Jonathan tried to bring up someone he knew who died to try and relate. He stopped. Maybe he finally got it?
...No.
No he didn’t.
Emmett obliged Jonathan, swinging the butt of his gun up towards his nose.
Maybe he got it now?
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 1184
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
He should have seen it coming. He hadn't thought that Emmett would have swung the gun at his face and he was too slow in moving himself away from the impact. He felt something cracking and he knew in an instant that his nose had been broken. His head bounced back a bit against the tree behind him and he felt a groan coming out of his mouth, making him feel like he shouldn't have been that open for the other boy. He felt something trickling out of his nose, raising his hand up to his broken nose and he came away with droplets of blood on the palm on his hand.
Well, I guess I had that coming, huh?
"Heh..."
Jonathan shook his head lightly and a small chuckle came out of his mouth, tasting slight bits of blood running down his lips. He would only look at Emmett as he knew that he couldn't understand why Emmett was going down a pointless path and he guessed that he should accept that Emmett was giving up on everything.
"H-Hmm. I guess I shouldn't having given you an opening so easily. Ow, ow." He muttered softly, spitting a little of blood out of his mouth and he knew that it would be awkward to go back to Declyn like this. He hoped that Myles and Declyn would be finished with whatever it was that they were doing or talking about. "....I guess I can't stop you from giving up on life after all. It's your choice, Emmett. You can go wherever you want to go and even if I won't be happy about it...."
He went silent and he tried to smear the blood off of his own face with the back of his hand, wincing in pain.
"I'm sorry for not being able to help back at the manor. Cecil and Adonis.... I should have come running, if only I have known."
Well, I guess I had that coming, huh?
"Heh..."
Jonathan shook his head lightly and a small chuckle came out of his mouth, tasting slight bits of blood running down his lips. He would only look at Emmett as he knew that he couldn't understand why Emmett was going down a pointless path and he guessed that he should accept that Emmett was giving up on everything.
"H-Hmm. I guess I shouldn't having given you an opening so easily. Ow, ow." He muttered softly, spitting a little of blood out of his mouth and he knew that it would be awkward to go back to Declyn like this. He hoped that Myles and Declyn would be finished with whatever it was that they were doing or talking about. "....I guess I can't stop you from giving up on life after all. It's your choice, Emmett. You can go wherever you want to go and even if I won't be happy about it...."
He went silent and he tried to smear the blood off of his own face with the back of his hand, wincing in pain.
"I'm sorry for not being able to help back at the manor. Cecil and Adonis.... I should have come running, if only I have known."
“You’re wrong though. It isn’t my choice. That was taken away from me today. Now there’s nothing left for me to do besides this or nothing.”
He watched Jonathan bleed out his face. Emmett was used to blood by now, this was nothing compared to the usual. He really didn’t feel guilty about it. He was tired of being played or used. He was tired of standing by doing nothing.
He hated the half-assed apology. He should’ve hit Jonathan again for that, but he didn’t. “Sorry doesn’t mean shit. Sorry doesn’t bring anyone back. Nobody on this island is sorry for what they’ve done. They’re sorry when they got caught. Same as it was for Adonis, same for Lorenzo, and every other piece of shit here. That’s why I’m not sorry, that’s why I’m doing this.”
He took a step back.
“I know what I’m doing won’t change anything. I know this’ll happen again to another class. I don’t care anymore. Far as I’m concerned, we deserve this. That’s why I’m doing this, because we deserve what we get, and anyone who’s still good here has died off. Nobody from this point on is innocent, nobody is safe.”
Emmett nodded his head to the side.
“Run back to Declyn. Tell him what happened before I change my mind. This is the last time we’re both walking away from this.”
Emmett turned around and walked toward the treeline.
He watched Jonathan bleed out his face. Emmett was used to blood by now, this was nothing compared to the usual. He really didn’t feel guilty about it. He was tired of being played or used. He was tired of standing by doing nothing.
He hated the half-assed apology. He should’ve hit Jonathan again for that, but he didn’t. “Sorry doesn’t mean shit. Sorry doesn’t bring anyone back. Nobody on this island is sorry for what they’ve done. They’re sorry when they got caught. Same as it was for Adonis, same for Lorenzo, and every other piece of shit here. That’s why I’m not sorry, that’s why I’m doing this.”
He took a step back.
“I know what I’m doing won’t change anything. I know this’ll happen again to another class. I don’t care anymore. Far as I’m concerned, we deserve this. That’s why I’m doing this, because we deserve what we get, and anyone who’s still good here has died off. Nobody from this point on is innocent, nobody is safe.”
Emmett nodded his head to the side.
“Run back to Declyn. Tell him what happened before I change my mind. This is the last time we’re both walking away from this.”
Emmett turned around and walked toward the treeline.
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 1184
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Don't you want to live? What about your family back home? Why can't you live for yourself, Emmett?
Jonathan felt a scowl forming onto his face and he didn't even realized that he was clenching his fist tightly. He unclenched his fist and he let out a few shaky breathes to try to calm his own anger that had been bubbling to the surface. He didn't want to let Emmett go just yet and he followed after Emmett, feeling light-headed from Emmett's attack.
"Emmett."
He cleared his throat to speak more louder.
"Emmett, come with me. You have to tell Declyn yourself why you are leaving." He was staring at Emmett's back and he wondered if Emmett would just turn around and shoot him right there. He guessed it didn't matter if Emmett did or not. He couldn't help Emmett anymore. He realized that Emmett had made up his mind about things and that he couldn't do nothing about it. Again.... "Please, do this one thing for me. Then I'll leave you alone."
Jonathan felt a scowl forming onto his face and he didn't even realized that he was clenching his fist tightly. He unclenched his fist and he let out a few shaky breathes to try to calm his own anger that had been bubbling to the surface. He didn't want to let Emmett go just yet and he followed after Emmett, feeling light-headed from Emmett's attack.
"Emmett."
He cleared his throat to speak more louder.
"Emmett, come with me. You have to tell Declyn yourself why you are leaving." He was staring at Emmett's back and he wondered if Emmett would just turn around and shoot him right there. He guessed it didn't matter if Emmett did or not. He couldn't help Emmett anymore. He realized that Emmett had made up his mind about things and that he couldn't do nothing about it. Again.... "Please, do this one thing for me. Then I'll leave you alone."
Emmett stopped.
He thought about it. He really did. He could just turn around right now and blow Jonathan away like Adonis.
Maybe Declyn would stop him. Maybe he’d stab Emmett with Cecil’s knife and that was that. Maybe it’d be over, the way it should’ve been. Did Declyn deserve to be put through that though? If Emmett spotted him again after this, he’d make it quick, Declyn wouldn’t even know what happened, something he couldn’t quite promise Jon.
He knew it’d hurt to tell him. His resolve would waver, and he might not go through with it. Then again, the same would happen when it really counts. All that talk would mean nothing.
“Fine. Lead the way then.”
He thought about it. He really did. He could just turn around right now and blow Jonathan away like Adonis.
Maybe Declyn would stop him. Maybe he’d stab Emmett with Cecil’s knife and that was that. Maybe it’d be over, the way it should’ve been. Did Declyn deserve to be put through that though? If Emmett spotted him again after this, he’d make it quick, Declyn wouldn’t even know what happened, something he couldn’t quite promise Jon.
He knew it’d hurt to tell him. His resolve would waver, and he might not go through with it. Then again, the same would happen when it really counts. All that talk would mean nothing.
“Fine. Lead the way then.”
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1184
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Jonathan felt relief on the inside taking over him as he was looking at Emmett with a more stoic expression and he nodded a little. He didn't think that he had to say anything else to get Emmett to follow him and he headed back towards where the bodies were. He still wondered if Emmett was mad at him for trying to be fair for the ones that had died and he didn't want to talk anymore. He looked down at his own blood on the back of his hand as he was continuing to walk forward and he glanced behind him a few times to make sure that Emmett was still following after him.
He stopped at where the bodies were and he noticed that Myles and Declyn were not back yet. Neither were Ivy or Garren. He suddenly felt uneasy as he was thinking about that time that Myles had pretty much manipulated Adonis on the first day and then he had dragged Adonis away with him. And now Adonis was dead. He had killed Tristan and Cecil. Jonathan did feel guilty about getting distracted by Mercy's corpse and he should have not froze up when he had seen her rotting shell of a body.
"We should go and look for Declyn and Myles. I don't trust Myles at all, but Declyn was happy to see him and I didn't want to say anything." Jonathan glanced at where the lake was and he headed in the other direction, farther into the woods and he was almost walking into a quicker jog. "Let's go, Emmett."
He stopped at where the bodies were and he noticed that Myles and Declyn were not back yet. Neither were Ivy or Garren. He suddenly felt uneasy as he was thinking about that time that Myles had pretty much manipulated Adonis on the first day and then he had dragged Adonis away with him. And now Adonis was dead. He had killed Tristan and Cecil. Jonathan did feel guilty about getting distracted by Mercy's corpse and he should have not froze up when he had seen her rotting shell of a body.
"We should go and look for Declyn and Myles. I don't trust Myles at all, but Declyn was happy to see him and I didn't want to say anything." Jonathan glanced at where the lake was and he headed in the other direction, farther into the woods and he was almost walking into a quicker jog. "Let's go, Emmett."
He didn’t know what to say anymore.
He thought that she was half-right at least. The part about not seeing anyone again after high school. He knew as well as the next person that all those films, TV shows, dating sims and slice-of-life animes about high school buddies making big ol’ promises to keep in touch forever, and to follow their dreams of writing a movie or starting a band or travelling together, were all a load of horseshit. You’d keep them on Facebook, maybe chuck them a happy birthday message or glance through their Twitter every now and then, but aside from that, they existed solely in the dregs of your memories, and nowhere else.
That was, of course, the point, in Garren’s pre-island plans at least. He’d graduate, and jet off to college - any college, honestly, any that’d take him, as far from Chattanooga as possible if he could help - and that would be the start of his second shot at… well, everything. Nothing and nobody to tie him to the life he fucking despised. A chance to reinvent himself however he fucking wanted.
A chance that he now had to grab with both hands, as it pulled further and further into the sky, drifting away as he ran through quicksand. He wasn’t reinventing himself from the ground up, presented to people as a blank slate, he was trying to tear down Fort Asshole Mortimer brick by brick with his bare hands.
And that first part? That people would only remember the good things when he was gone? Garren didn’t believe that. He couldn’t see a way, if he just… keeled over and died in the next couple seconds, for his legacy to be anything but negative amongst everyone he’d interacted with, his teachers, the people online, his classmates who’d stayed home from the trip. Sure, his parents would probably wax poetically about how tragic it was, how lovely a boy he really truly was, maybe Leo would put in a few good words for him. But for the teachers whose lessons he’d disrupted by playing devil’s advocate, the classmates he’d tormented just cause he was bogged down in the quagmire of his own status quo?
Yeah, he was pretty sure that was one candle at the vigil they’d wish was snuffed out.
Fortunately, the gasping and shuffling of feet from behind him saved Garren from having to spaghetti his way through an answer to Ivy. He swiveled around on the rock, looking up at Myles downing a bottle of water, one of the bags unzipped and open at his feet.
“Oh, hey, dude.”
Too casual? Eesh, yeah, probably too casual for a porter, if normal service was gonna be resumed. Y’know, he wasn’t gonna say anything on the subject, because man, Garren hadn’t needed that much water after lugging all of their stuff hither and fuckin’ thither, but he had to wonder exactly what Myles and Dec had been up to. This was. Y’know. A little telling. Just. Y’know.
The two had definitely had their tongues in each others mouths at some point in the past, that’s all he was saying.
“Is Declyn talking with Emmett and Jon or something?”
He thought that she was half-right at least. The part about not seeing anyone again after high school. He knew as well as the next person that all those films, TV shows, dating sims and slice-of-life animes about high school buddies making big ol’ promises to keep in touch forever, and to follow their dreams of writing a movie or starting a band or travelling together, were all a load of horseshit. You’d keep them on Facebook, maybe chuck them a happy birthday message or glance through their Twitter every now and then, but aside from that, they existed solely in the dregs of your memories, and nowhere else.
That was, of course, the point, in Garren’s pre-island plans at least. He’d graduate, and jet off to college - any college, honestly, any that’d take him, as far from Chattanooga as possible if he could help - and that would be the start of his second shot at… well, everything. Nothing and nobody to tie him to the life he fucking despised. A chance to reinvent himself however he fucking wanted.
A chance that he now had to grab with both hands, as it pulled further and further into the sky, drifting away as he ran through quicksand. He wasn’t reinventing himself from the ground up, presented to people as a blank slate, he was trying to tear down Fort Asshole Mortimer brick by brick with his bare hands.
And that first part? That people would only remember the good things when he was gone? Garren didn’t believe that. He couldn’t see a way, if he just… keeled over and died in the next couple seconds, for his legacy to be anything but negative amongst everyone he’d interacted with, his teachers, the people online, his classmates who’d stayed home from the trip. Sure, his parents would probably wax poetically about how tragic it was, how lovely a boy he really truly was, maybe Leo would put in a few good words for him. But for the teachers whose lessons he’d disrupted by playing devil’s advocate, the classmates he’d tormented just cause he was bogged down in the quagmire of his own status quo?
Yeah, he was pretty sure that was one candle at the vigil they’d wish was snuffed out.
Fortunately, the gasping and shuffling of feet from behind him saved Garren from having to spaghetti his way through an answer to Ivy. He swiveled around on the rock, looking up at Myles downing a bottle of water, one of the bags unzipped and open at his feet.
“Oh, hey, dude.”
Too casual? Eesh, yeah, probably too casual for a porter, if normal service was gonna be resumed. Y’know, he wasn’t gonna say anything on the subject, because man, Garren hadn’t needed that much water after lugging all of their stuff hither and fuckin’ thither, but he had to wonder exactly what Myles and Dec had been up to. This was. Y’know. A little telling. Just. Y’know.
The two had definitely had their tongues in each others mouths at some point in the past, that’s all he was saying.
“Is Declyn talking with Emmett and Jon or something?”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017