[ Julien Leblanc continued from The Past Has Passed Away. ]
Julien stood in the middle of the path, looking upon a mask dangling down from a tree branch. Acceptance, it said, and he rather had to wonder why. Some manner of message left by somebody who'd walked down this very path once before about what it had taken to make the choice to come here, perhaps? Though that seemed to go a little too much without saying to be worth making such a thing about.
And yet, there it was.
So he took it down from the place where it had hanged for so long and looked at it more closely. If nothing out of the ordinary about it was revealed just by looking at it, maybe feeling it would be more helpful... was that--
He heard something too deliberate to merely be the ambient noise of what life lurked here that wasn't other people, a little further down the path, and turning to look its way drew him away from whatever discovery he'd been about to make about the thing that had seized his admittedly limited attention just before. He watched for a while and waited to see what exactly had caused it, figuring that he wouldn't need to wait for too long for it to come to fruition. And sure enough, he was proven right in due time.
He would not say he was sorry, for what point would there be?
Pale, sweating, physically and emotionally drained... He still pulled out a smile somehow, though he was sure that it wasn't exactly going to be a welcome sight given who it was that he was greeting with it.
Had he found Ivy, he wondered? It'd be clear before long, he was sure.
"Hello, Myles."
C'est La Vie
Day 6, prior to announcements. Closed excepting sufficient reason to enter.
((Myles Roux continued from Aggressive Beauty))
Back here again. When this was all over and done with, Myles never wanted to spend another day tromping around in any areas more wild than a city park. With the village off the table, there were pretty much no good options, but the art exhibition was vaguely familiar. When they'd started seeing the weird sculptures peeking out from between the trees, Myles had remembered the dregs of his abandoned supplies and figured he might as well see if anything was left, if he could find the statue of the hands once again.
Ivy was dragging behind him. It wasn't by much, and Myles had been ditched enough times by now to stay sharp so that he didn't accidentally do the same to her. He remembered how quickly the dense woods had closed in and disoriented him before. They'd been walking more closely, but what Ivy really needed was someone who could physically support her better than him. If they could find Ace again, Myles was sort of hopeful that he'd be willing.
Anyway, Ivy had gotten fed up with their joint straggling along while Myles tried to help her, so she'd told him to just lead the way, and she would follow. Neither of them had really bothered to acknowledge that he didn't have a real destination and only vaguely knew where he was going, but with no phones or any other way to pin down someone they were looking for, aimless wandering was once again the order of the day. If it wasn't for the Danger Zones, Myles would have happily holed up somewhere and waited things out.
He hadn't filled Ivy in on the little equation he'd been feeling out in his head either, the one he'd started mulling over while he was with Adonis. It wasn't a puzzle, exactly, more like... something he had to ease himself into. Build up a tolerance to thinking about it, like sticking his hand under hot water for a few seconds at a time until it didn't sting.
He was lost in that kind of thought, half-distracted by the statues and signs as he waited for the one he recognized to catch his eye, so when he emerged from one gap in the trees to another, it took a couple of seconds and Julien's voice to realize that he wasn't looking at yet another weird piece of art. Just a person, as far as Julien counted.
Myles wasn't prepared for the way his stomach dropped as he drew up short. Ivy was just a few steps behind him.
"Oh, great." At least his voice was steady.
Back here again. When this was all over and done with, Myles never wanted to spend another day tromping around in any areas more wild than a city park. With the village off the table, there were pretty much no good options, but the art exhibition was vaguely familiar. When they'd started seeing the weird sculptures peeking out from between the trees, Myles had remembered the dregs of his abandoned supplies and figured he might as well see if anything was left, if he could find the statue of the hands once again.
Ivy was dragging behind him. It wasn't by much, and Myles had been ditched enough times by now to stay sharp so that he didn't accidentally do the same to her. He remembered how quickly the dense woods had closed in and disoriented him before. They'd been walking more closely, but what Ivy really needed was someone who could physically support her better than him. If they could find Ace again, Myles was sort of hopeful that he'd be willing.
Anyway, Ivy had gotten fed up with their joint straggling along while Myles tried to help her, so she'd told him to just lead the way, and she would follow. Neither of them had really bothered to acknowledge that he didn't have a real destination and only vaguely knew where he was going, but with no phones or any other way to pin down someone they were looking for, aimless wandering was once again the order of the day. If it wasn't for the Danger Zones, Myles would have happily holed up somewhere and waited things out.
He hadn't filled Ivy in on the little equation he'd been feeling out in his head either, the one he'd started mulling over while he was with Adonis. It wasn't a puzzle, exactly, more like... something he had to ease himself into. Build up a tolerance to thinking about it, like sticking his hand under hot water for a few seconds at a time until it didn't sting.
He was lost in that kind of thought, half-distracted by the statues and signs as he waited for the one he recognized to catch his eye, so when he emerged from one gap in the trees to another, it took a couple of seconds and Julien's voice to realize that he wasn't looking at yet another weird piece of art. Just a person, as far as Julien counted.
Myles wasn't prepared for the way his stomach dropped as he drew up short. Ivy was just a few steps behind him.
"Oh, great." At least his voice was steady.
"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."
"My, such a cold reception. There's really no reason to be that way, because I can't exactly be a threat to you unless you come close."
Myles did look a lot less worse for wear than he himself did, Julien would give him that much. Being able to run away from trouble should it come calling was hardly something to be mocked here, after all, and that was if he didn't have something nasty hidden away to get him through the worst times. An injured man with a knife didn't much count for the worst times... but they did have history, and he was looking at somebody as spiteful as he himself could be at the lowest moments, albeit in a rather different way.
It was doubtful that his time here might have helped, especially considering that if he had found Ivy he inevitably knew about Julien putting the boot in on his closest friend's tiny little ribs.
Definitely not his finest moment.
"Ivy happen to be with you, by any chance?"
Myles did look a lot less worse for wear than he himself did, Julien would give him that much. Being able to run away from trouble should it come calling was hardly something to be mocked here, after all, and that was if he didn't have something nasty hidden away to get him through the worst times. An injured man with a knife didn't much count for the worst times... but they did have history, and he was looking at somebody as spiteful as he himself could be at the lowest moments, albeit in a rather different way.
It was doubtful that his time here might have helped, especially considering that if he had found Ivy he inevitably knew about Julien putting the boot in on his closest friend's tiny little ribs.
Definitely not his finest moment.
"Ivy happen to be with you, by any chance?"
Nnnnno. No. Nope. No thank you.
"Oh, don't even start," Myles snapped. He was already tensed, ready to spin on his heel and run if Julien made any sudden moves. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn't met any killers face-to-face yet. Adonis didn't count. Myles had been able to control Adonis, at least a little bit. He wasn't a threat.
Julien, experience and instinct told him, was a threat.
He was asking about Ivy. Myles didn't hear her footsteps yet, but she had been close behind. Maybe she had seen him stop and stopped herself. He resisted the urge to check over his shoulder to see how close she was.
"Look, I don't know what kind of people you've been running into, but I don't really feel like standing around and having a chat with you, Julien." He made sure to say Julien's name clearly so that Ivy would be able to hear. "So let's not make this any harder than it needs to be. Buzz off."
Julien looked like crap, and Myles would be lying if tried to say that he didn't take a little bit of satisfaction from that. He deserved to look like crap. Maybe Ashlynn had given him a beating before he killed her, or he'd tried to kill someone else that had put up a better fight than her... and Ivy.
That could have been Ivy's name on the announcements alongside Julien's, right on the very first day. And now he was asking about her, if she was nearby.
Myles had tensed up as soon as he recognized Julien, but all of a sudden, there was a cold, hard knot in his chest and a tightness in his throat. Julien was leaning heavily on that stick, but he could have been faking. Myles didn't know if Julien was smart or subtle enough to try to fake it, so that could go either way. If he made a move towards Myles, Myles could probably outrun him if he wasn't faking, but Ivy...
If he made a move towards Myles... maybe Myles would have time to grab Tristan's knife out of his belt.
"Oh, don't even start," Myles snapped. He was already tensed, ready to spin on his heel and run if Julien made any sudden moves. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn't met any killers face-to-face yet. Adonis didn't count. Myles had been able to control Adonis, at least a little bit. He wasn't a threat.
Julien, experience and instinct told him, was a threat.
He was asking about Ivy. Myles didn't hear her footsteps yet, but she had been close behind. Maybe she had seen him stop and stopped herself. He resisted the urge to check over his shoulder to see how close she was.
"Look, I don't know what kind of people you've been running into, but I don't really feel like standing around and having a chat with you, Julien." He made sure to say Julien's name clearly so that Ivy would be able to hear. "So let's not make this any harder than it needs to be. Buzz off."
Julien looked like crap, and Myles would be lying if tried to say that he didn't take a little bit of satisfaction from that. He deserved to look like crap. Maybe Ashlynn had given him a beating before he killed her, or he'd tried to kill someone else that had put up a better fight than her... and Ivy.
That could have been Ivy's name on the announcements alongside Julien's, right on the very first day. And now he was asking about her, if she was nearby.
Myles had tensed up as soon as he recognized Julien, but all of a sudden, there was a cold, hard knot in his chest and a tightness in his throat. Julien was leaning heavily on that stick, but he could have been faking. Myles didn't know if Julien was smart or subtle enough to try to fake it, so that could go either way. If he made a move towards Myles, Myles could probably outrun him if he wasn't faking, but Ivy...
If he made a move towards Myles... maybe Myles would have time to grab Tristan's knife out of his belt.
"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."
Hostility it was, then?
Alright. Julien could work with that. The thing with Myles so bluntly saying that he didn't have time for this (not that either of them did) and asking him to leave was that it went both ways, really. So he was sure that he could convince him to take his own request with some of the caustic touch that came so easily now... all he had to do was apply it correctly.
"Me, get out of your way?" Julien swept an arm out to his side. "There's all this forest around to go through, and you have the advantage of two working fucking legs. What's stopping you from just moving on?" Mostly said for the sake of saying it, since it wasn't exactly being made hard for him to figure out. "Oh... yeah, ah, you didn't give me an answer, by the way. But your standing here and having this lovely little back-and-forth with me in the first place is enough, so don't bother."
Though now he thought about it, this alone probably wouldn't be enough to get him to leave, since for all his failings sticking up for his friends was clearly not an area in which Myles was so lacking. So out came the knife, with a little flourish to its brandishing too, and Julien leaned in on the stick holding him up a little less. "Now," he started, but had to clear his throat, "see, it's hardly a secret that I never liked Ivy. But if I genuinely wished her harm... fuck, look around you, see where we are. I'd have just killed her in the bed she woke up in, and that would have been the end of it. And yet I didn't."
Alright. Julien could work with that. The thing with Myles so bluntly saying that he didn't have time for this (not that either of them did) and asking him to leave was that it went both ways, really. So he was sure that he could convince him to take his own request with some of the caustic touch that came so easily now... all he had to do was apply it correctly.
"Me, get out of your way?" Julien swept an arm out to his side. "There's all this forest around to go through, and you have the advantage of two working fucking legs. What's stopping you from just moving on?" Mostly said for the sake of saying it, since it wasn't exactly being made hard for him to figure out. "Oh... yeah, ah, you didn't give me an answer, by the way. But your standing here and having this lovely little back-and-forth with me in the first place is enough, so don't bother."
Though now he thought about it, this alone probably wouldn't be enough to get him to leave, since for all his failings sticking up for his friends was clearly not an area in which Myles was so lacking. So out came the knife, with a little flourish to its brandishing too, and Julien leaned in on the stick holding him up a little less. "Now," he started, but had to clear his throat, "see, it's hardly a secret that I never liked Ivy. But if I genuinely wished her harm... fuck, look around you, see where we are. I'd have just killed her in the bed she woke up in, and that would have been the end of it. And yet I didn't."
"If I genuinely wished her harm?"
Myles wanted to laugh. He wanted to scream. Sure, Ivy's black eye and broken fucking ribs weren't real harm. He did laugh, one short bark of disbelief.
"Oh yeah, sure. What a great guy you are, not murdering a defenseless girl in her bed. What'd Ashlynn do to deserve it, snore at you?"
Julien had a knife. Could be worse. Myles had a knife too. If Julien had a gun, he'd probably be waving that around, so Myles could be pretty sure he didn't have a gun.
Myles had a gun. It was just that he only had one shot. He wasn't sure he wanted to waste it on Julien.
He still couldn't hear Ivy. She'd been just a few steps behind, right?
Myles wanted to laugh. He wanted to scream. Sure, Ivy's black eye and broken fucking ribs weren't real harm. He did laugh, one short bark of disbelief.
"Oh yeah, sure. What a great guy you are, not murdering a defenseless girl in her bed. What'd Ashlynn do to deserve it, snore at you?"
Julien had a knife. Could be worse. Myles had a knife too. If Julien had a gun, he'd probably be waving that around, so Myles could be pretty sure he didn't have a gun.
Myles had a gun. It was just that he only had one shot. He wasn't sure he wanted to waste it on Julien.
He still couldn't hear Ivy. She'd been just a few steps behind, right?
"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."
>> Ivy Langley continued from Aggressive Beauty
It had occurred to Ivy, at some point during the day before, that on some subconscious level she'd expected finding Myles to have lessened the crushing weight of all her other problems by a frankly unreasonable amount. As though his presence would render a broken rib less burdensome, make the river water taste less filthy, let her forget that she was sleeping in the literal dirt. None of those issues were solvable by anyone, though at least she felt safer in complaining to Myles than she had to Ace, since he certainly had no qualms in doing the same. Objectively unproductive whining felt awfully good, after so many days of having to prioritize being as easy to be around as possible.
Everything was just as shitty as ever. The only thing that really changed was the absence of a specific gnawing, creeping terror in the back of her mind, the one that had been there since she'd pulled those half-crumpled photobooth pictures of the two of them out of her bag. The one that had paralyzed her every morning with visceral terror that what if she'd been too late. There were plenty of other worries to fill in the gaps that it left behind.
But she wouldn't trade that relative peace of mind for anything.
Myles had done his best to try to match her too-slow pace, but it was awkward for him and just as awkward for her to feel the need to scurry a few feet forward every few minutes to catch up when he inevitably pulled ahead. They settled into a more reliable rhythm, him a few paces ahead, more or less, only needing to stop occasionally to let her catch up. It had unfortunately put a damper on their conversations, but they had had time to discuss things when they camped. Better to stay quiet in the woods, anyway. She still remembered the eyes staring back at her and Ace from the bushes.
So when Myles stopped and started speaking, she froze. Safe and invisible behind him, for the moment, he wasn't running, that was something, at least. He'd leave her in the dust if he ran, anyway. Would he do that? Hold that thought.
She couldn't quite make out the other voice. Sounds but not words. Then—
Julien.
Ivy slipped into the trees.
Julien.
She hated it. She hated how just his name made her entire body tense, how she felt the sweat pooling on the back of her neck, she wanted to run. She was angry. She was supposed to be angry. She wanted to be angry. She had been, hadn't she, just the day before, bitching about what he'd done, she could feel his foot crunch against her side when she closed her eyes, still, she wanted to pour bleach down his throat, she'd talked a big game, hadn't she?
She wanted to hide.
She could just hide.
He'd leave eventually.
He was dangerous. She knew that.
He'd killed someone.
She could hide. She could wait. He didn't have a gun, she didn't think. Probably not. Probably was close enough. But Myles—
could run. She couldn't.
She should hide.
She stamped her foot petulantly, exhaling sharply through her nose. Why wasn't anything ever easy?
She started walking.
It had occurred to Ivy, at some point during the day before, that on some subconscious level she'd expected finding Myles to have lessened the crushing weight of all her other problems by a frankly unreasonable amount. As though his presence would render a broken rib less burdensome, make the river water taste less filthy, let her forget that she was sleeping in the literal dirt. None of those issues were solvable by anyone, though at least she felt safer in complaining to Myles than she had to Ace, since he certainly had no qualms in doing the same. Objectively unproductive whining felt awfully good, after so many days of having to prioritize being as easy to be around as possible.
Everything was just as shitty as ever. The only thing that really changed was the absence of a specific gnawing, creeping terror in the back of her mind, the one that had been there since she'd pulled those half-crumpled photobooth pictures of the two of them out of her bag. The one that had paralyzed her every morning with visceral terror that what if she'd been too late. There were plenty of other worries to fill in the gaps that it left behind.
But she wouldn't trade that relative peace of mind for anything.
Myles had done his best to try to match her too-slow pace, but it was awkward for him and just as awkward for her to feel the need to scurry a few feet forward every few minutes to catch up when he inevitably pulled ahead. They settled into a more reliable rhythm, him a few paces ahead, more or less, only needing to stop occasionally to let her catch up. It had unfortunately put a damper on their conversations, but they had had time to discuss things when they camped. Better to stay quiet in the woods, anyway. She still remembered the eyes staring back at her and Ace from the bushes.
So when Myles stopped and started speaking, she froze. Safe and invisible behind him, for the moment, he wasn't running, that was something, at least. He'd leave her in the dust if he ran, anyway. Would he do that? Hold that thought.
She couldn't quite make out the other voice. Sounds but not words. Then—
Julien.
Ivy slipped into the trees.
Julien.
She hated it. She hated how just his name made her entire body tense, how she felt the sweat pooling on the back of her neck, she wanted to run. She was angry. She was supposed to be angry. She wanted to be angry. She had been, hadn't she, just the day before, bitching about what he'd done, she could feel his foot crunch against her side when she closed her eyes, still, she wanted to pour bleach down his throat, she'd talked a big game, hadn't she?
She wanted to hide.
She could just hide.
He'd leave eventually.
He was dangerous. She knew that.
He'd killed someone.
She could hide. She could wait. He didn't have a gun, she didn't think. Probably not. Probably was close enough. But Myles—
could run. She couldn't.
She should hide.
She stamped her foot petulantly, exhaling sharply through her nose. Why wasn't anything ever easy?
She started walking.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Myles laughed, and so Julien laughed right back at him. "I'm afraid you'll have to try harder than that to find something cutting."
Still no Ivy... interesting. He looked around again and had to wonder if she could see him but he couldn't see her, which would honestly be impressive considering that he'd only ever seen her clad in vomit-inducing amounts of pastel. Perhaps she would hear him, then. It'd be interesting to see if what he said would make her reveal herself.
"And yeah, if I genuinely wished her harm. Sure, the ribs must hurt like nothing else, but can she still move around? Far as I left her, yes. And I'm sure she found something to defend herself with, since I never actually saw what she was given for a weapon. See, she did the same thing you're doing now, where you don't really understand exactly what being where we are means." It was such a painfully simple mistake to make, really. Not even a mistake either, when you thought about it, just not quite comprehending what the worst could truly be.
"If I'd really wanted her to feel it, I would have just strangled the life out of her slowly. Maybe let her free enough to breathe some, drag out the misery and just grind it in that nobody would be coming to save her from me. That or beat her to death. Neither one would have been very hard." Julien gave the knife another little spin, much to keep his hands busy and prepared as anything else, and looking at it clearly brought some manner of idea to mind. The smile on his face turned into a sneer. "Hell, you said it yourself... defenceless girl in her bed, couldn't do anything to stop me. I wouldn't have needed to kill her to stick the knife in. I wouldn't have needed this here knife to rearrange her guts either."
He could imagine Faith there for a moment and that was it, he was gone, support dropped out from underneath him and staggering off to a tree to throw up. Stupid of him, really, to believe that his mind would spare him that torment. It was only a few painful seconds, at least, and then it was mostly over with.
"Nnh… fuck... And yet I didn't, ah, do anything of the sort. So if you want to talk about harm, come back when you know the fucking meaning of the word."
Still no Ivy... interesting. He looked around again and had to wonder if she could see him but he couldn't see her, which would honestly be impressive considering that he'd only ever seen her clad in vomit-inducing amounts of pastel. Perhaps she would hear him, then. It'd be interesting to see if what he said would make her reveal herself.
"And yeah, if I genuinely wished her harm. Sure, the ribs must hurt like nothing else, but can she still move around? Far as I left her, yes. And I'm sure she found something to defend herself with, since I never actually saw what she was given for a weapon. See, she did the same thing you're doing now, where you don't really understand exactly what being where we are means." It was such a painfully simple mistake to make, really. Not even a mistake either, when you thought about it, just not quite comprehending what the worst could truly be.
"If I'd really wanted her to feel it, I would have just strangled the life out of her slowly. Maybe let her free enough to breathe some, drag out the misery and just grind it in that nobody would be coming to save her from me. That or beat her to death. Neither one would have been very hard." Julien gave the knife another little spin, much to keep his hands busy and prepared as anything else, and looking at it clearly brought some manner of idea to mind. The smile on his face turned into a sneer. "Hell, you said it yourself... defenceless girl in her bed, couldn't do anything to stop me. I wouldn't have needed to kill her to stick the knife in. I wouldn't have needed this here knife to rearrange her guts either."
He could imagine Faith there for a moment and that was it, he was gone, support dropped out from underneath him and staggering off to a tree to throw up. Stupid of him, really, to believe that his mind would spare him that torment. It was only a few painful seconds, at least, and then it was mostly over with.
"Nnh… fuck... And yet I didn't, ah, do anything of the sort. So if you want to talk about harm, come back when you know the fucking meaning of the word."
"Shut up."
What even was the point of this? Who said things like that? Myles got people, that was his whole thing, but he had never understood Julien. It had never been worth his time to try.
What he saw and heard now told him that even if he had tried to dig deeper into Julien, there would have been nothing to find. Myles had called him a psycho before, but he hadn't realized that it was actually the whole truth.
"I don't want to hear it. I don't know know if you're trying to threaten me or what, but I don't care. I don't care how bad you think you've had it or how big and bad you think you are because you could kill someone. I don't care, okay, nobody has ever cared what you had to say and they're not going to start now!" Myles's words grew faster and more heated the longer he spoke.
In a couple of minutes, he had gone from zero to seething. He didn't understand what Julien was getting at. It probably didn't even matter. He was just some loser who knew he'd never be anything, and he tried to cover it up by acting like he was smarter and better than everyone else, and now he was just doing the same thing with trying to wave around the fact that he was a scary killer. Even with the stupid little interlude where he had to puke, he just kept on going like he was some kind of supervillain.
God. First Adonis, and now this. No, it hadn't even started with Adonis. First, it had been Tonya. What was she doing? Not killing anybody any more successfully than she'd been able to kill Myles. Every single person who had killed or tried to kill was like this. All they did was talk on and on and on about garbage nobody cared about.
In the heat of his anger, something light and almost humorous blossomed.
All of them were just so pathetic.
Myles covered his mouth with one hand and let the other rest on the knife. He wasn't sure if he was trying to keep himself from snapping more or trying to hide a smile. At least it kept the new smell of vomit from getting to him. His mind kept returning to Ivy, but it seemed like she had done the smart thing and stayed back out of sight and sound.
"If you have a point, get to it or get lost." His voice was muffled, tone unclear. Sweat trickled down his back, sticking his shirt to him again. God, he'd never be able to wear this outfit again with all the stale sweat baked into it.
If Julien didn't do the smart thing -- and honestly, did he ever? -- then...
What even was the point of this? Who said things like that? Myles got people, that was his whole thing, but he had never understood Julien. It had never been worth his time to try.
What he saw and heard now told him that even if he had tried to dig deeper into Julien, there would have been nothing to find. Myles had called him a psycho before, but he hadn't realized that it was actually the whole truth.
"I don't want to hear it. I don't know know if you're trying to threaten me or what, but I don't care. I don't care how bad you think you've had it or how big and bad you think you are because you could kill someone. I don't care, okay, nobody has ever cared what you had to say and they're not going to start now!" Myles's words grew faster and more heated the longer he spoke.
In a couple of minutes, he had gone from zero to seething. He didn't understand what Julien was getting at. It probably didn't even matter. He was just some loser who knew he'd never be anything, and he tried to cover it up by acting like he was smarter and better than everyone else, and now he was just doing the same thing with trying to wave around the fact that he was a scary killer. Even with the stupid little interlude where he had to puke, he just kept on going like he was some kind of supervillain.
God. First Adonis, and now this. No, it hadn't even started with Adonis. First, it had been Tonya. What was she doing? Not killing anybody any more successfully than she'd been able to kill Myles. Every single person who had killed or tried to kill was like this. All they did was talk on and on and on about garbage nobody cared about.
In the heat of his anger, something light and almost humorous blossomed.
All of them were just so pathetic.
Myles covered his mouth with one hand and let the other rest on the knife. He wasn't sure if he was trying to keep himself from snapping more or trying to hide a smile. At least it kept the new smell of vomit from getting to him. His mind kept returning to Ivy, but it seemed like she had done the smart thing and stayed back out of sight and sound.
"If you have a point, get to it or get lost." His voice was muffled, tone unclear. Sweat trickled down his back, sticking his shirt to him again. God, he'd never be able to wear this outfit again with all the stale sweat baked into it.
If Julien didn't do the smart thing -- and honestly, did he ever? -- then...
"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."
Don't listen, she thought.
Don't.
But she had to, she couldn't see a thing but tree after indistinguishable tree, all she could use to vaguely triangulate her position relative to Myles and Julien was their voices. Else she get lost in the woods, alone, again. Her plan wasn't much of anything, the unfortunate reality of all plans made without any time to prepare them, but it was better than nothing, better than standing still, better than letting Myles deal with it, Julien had hurt him enough.
Her, too. Whatever.
Don't think too much. Just move. Myles would buy her time. It was a delicate tightrope to walk, not moving too quickly or she'd inevitably be heard, not moving too slowly or she'd run out of time, she hadn't seen Julien, didn't know what he had, didn't know what shape he was in, didn't know how inclined he was to close whatever distance stood between them and fight, it wasn't a test she wanted to take. Myles knew her so well. He'd know she wouldn't abandon him. Right? Maybe he'd know what she was trying to do. Right?
She just needed time. She could burst out of the woods if she heard something, if she needed to, and do—what, exactly?
Her hand had already dug through her bag and wrapped around her perfume bottle, the closest thing she had to a weapon. Close range and not lethal, not really, if he had a gun she'd be dead before she got within ten feet of him. If he had a knife he'd still probably stab her before she was close enough to do any damage. This was so fucking stupid. Myles could maybe outrun Julien and she was hiding, he wouldn't find her, probably, it would be fine?
His voice was getting closer.
She listened.
she—
froze solid as a statue midstep.
She could still run away. She remembered how many times she'd woke feeling ghostly hands wrapped around her throat. She could still run away. No one would blame her.
She still couldn't see him, but she was getting closer.
She could still run away.
He was a monster. He couldn't have just—
he had to have thought about it, thought about her, saying it all like that so easily, he could've—
she'd known, she could have died, it was just luck, just a fluke of conscience, just a moment of hesitation that saved her, she already knew, she—
she could have been worse than dead.
it didn't matter. she wasn't helpless anymore. her blood ran like ice in her veins. she'd figure it out. he couldn't hurt her anymore. he couldn't. she didn't know if she believed that. monster. murderer.
she couldn't move. she wanted to run back to myles. she wanted to go home. tears running down her face again, she hated him with every fiber of her being and it felt so cold.
She had to keep moving.
She had to.
Don't.
But she had to, she couldn't see a thing but tree after indistinguishable tree, all she could use to vaguely triangulate her position relative to Myles and Julien was their voices. Else she get lost in the woods, alone, again. Her plan wasn't much of anything, the unfortunate reality of all plans made without any time to prepare them, but it was better than nothing, better than standing still, better than letting Myles deal with it, Julien had hurt him enough.
Her, too. Whatever.
Don't think too much. Just move. Myles would buy her time. It was a delicate tightrope to walk, not moving too quickly or she'd inevitably be heard, not moving too slowly or she'd run out of time, she hadn't seen Julien, didn't know what he had, didn't know what shape he was in, didn't know how inclined he was to close whatever distance stood between them and fight, it wasn't a test she wanted to take. Myles knew her so well. He'd know she wouldn't abandon him. Right? Maybe he'd know what she was trying to do. Right?
She just needed time. She could burst out of the woods if she heard something, if she needed to, and do—what, exactly?
Her hand had already dug through her bag and wrapped around her perfume bottle, the closest thing she had to a weapon. Close range and not lethal, not really, if he had a gun she'd be dead before she got within ten feet of him. If he had a knife he'd still probably stab her before she was close enough to do any damage. This was so fucking stupid. Myles could maybe outrun Julien and she was hiding, he wouldn't find her, probably, it would be fine?
His voice was getting closer.
She listened.
she—
froze solid as a statue midstep.
She could still run away. She remembered how many times she'd woke feeling ghostly hands wrapped around her throat. She could still run away. No one would blame her.
She still couldn't see him, but she was getting closer.
She could still run away.
He was a monster. He couldn't have just—
he had to have thought about it, thought about her, saying it all like that so easily, he could've—
she'd known, she could have died, it was just luck, just a fluke of conscience, just a moment of hesitation that saved her, she already knew, she—
she could have been worse than dead.
it didn't matter. she wasn't helpless anymore. her blood ran like ice in her veins. she'd figure it out. he couldn't hurt her anymore. he couldn't. she didn't know if she believed that. monster. murderer.
she couldn't move. she wanted to run back to myles. she wanted to go home. tears running down her face again, she hated him with every fiber of her being and it felt so cold.
She had to keep moving.
She had to.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
"Whew... it's no wonder Blaise liked you. You are truly a master at ignoring reality to hear what you want to. And none of this is about me, so whatever you think of me honestly doesn't matter." He could have said any number of things in a pointless attempt to be petty at this point, but he couldn't bring himself to care about it, and enough of that had been done before already. So, all in all? Just not worth it.
"Now, I'm going to take a wild shot in the dark and guess she's lurking around here, probably trying to figure out how she wants to hurt me." No question that she would want to, after all, because both the people he was speaking to had proven vindictive in the past and he doubted that little tendency had been stripped from them by being here. It helped that if he got his way, he might just wind up on that side of a similar situation in the very near future, carefully hammering out exactly how to approach what laid before him in his head.
Julien looked around again and... no, still no sign of her. "Which is the best choice, really. But I have to wonder why the fuck you didn't just go find her, then go the other way as soon as you saw me. It's a big island, and it's not exactly like I could chase you even if I did want to." He gestured to the thing helping hold him up at that very moment.
"Now, I'm going to take a wild shot in the dark and guess she's lurking around here, probably trying to figure out how she wants to hurt me." No question that she would want to, after all, because both the people he was speaking to had proven vindictive in the past and he doubted that little tendency had been stripped from them by being here. It helped that if he got his way, he might just wind up on that side of a similar situation in the very near future, carefully hammering out exactly how to approach what laid before him in his head.
Julien looked around again and... no, still no sign of her. "Which is the best choice, really. But I have to wonder why the fuck you didn't just go find her, then go the other way as soon as you saw me. It's a big island, and it's not exactly like I could chase you even if I did want to." He gestured to the thing helping hold him up at that very moment.
...then just maybe, Myles would have to end up doing everyone a favor. That was how that last thought ended.
Everything Julien said hadn't quite impacted Myles right away. He just. Kept. Talking. Myles was barely even listening anymore. He was trembling with rage, with everything he'd felt in the immediate aftermath of the incident up on the lookout platform multiplied a hundredfold.
"I don't want to hear any goddamn thing that comes out of your stupid mouth." Myles dropped his hand from his face and turned back to fix Julien with a glassy stare. "You're evil. It doesn't matter if you don't care what I think. That's what you are. That's what everyone knows you are now." His voice started to choke, and it only made him angrier. Every word just kept coming back, replaying over and over so that he could think about it some more and take it in the worst possible way.
God, he hoped Ivy hadn't stuck around. If she'd run away as soon as she heard Julien's name, Myles wouldn't be mad. She didn't need to hear this. This was the kind of thing you called the police on people for, and Julien just kept going like it was something to be proud of.
He didn't even know why he was still standing here. He needed Ivy to be far away. He needed Julien to leave before he could go anywhere.
He needed Julien to turn his back for a few seconds.
There was a mask hanging on the tree Julien had leaned against. It said, Acceptance.
"It's not enough that you're a murderer, huh, you have to be a fucking creep too? That why you had Faith's picture on your phone? I bet she'd be real happy to hear about the kind of stuff you're fantasizing about."
Julien wanted to try to hit Myles where he thought it hurt? Two could play that game, and few people played it better than Myles. Julien was a monster, but he was an amateur at doing anything gracefully.
Everything Julien said hadn't quite impacted Myles right away. He just. Kept. Talking. Myles was barely even listening anymore. He was trembling with rage, with everything he'd felt in the immediate aftermath of the incident up on the lookout platform multiplied a hundredfold.
"I don't want to hear any goddamn thing that comes out of your stupid mouth." Myles dropped his hand from his face and turned back to fix Julien with a glassy stare. "You're evil. It doesn't matter if you don't care what I think. That's what you are. That's what everyone knows you are now." His voice started to choke, and it only made him angrier. Every word just kept coming back, replaying over and over so that he could think about it some more and take it in the worst possible way.
God, he hoped Ivy hadn't stuck around. If she'd run away as soon as she heard Julien's name, Myles wouldn't be mad. She didn't need to hear this. This was the kind of thing you called the police on people for, and Julien just kept going like it was something to be proud of.
He didn't even know why he was still standing here. He needed Ivy to be far away. He needed Julien to leave before he could go anywhere.
He needed Julien to turn his back for a few seconds.
There was a mask hanging on the tree Julien had leaned against. It said, Acceptance.
"It's not enough that you're a murderer, huh, you have to be a fucking creep too? That why you had Faith's picture on your phone? I bet she'd be real happy to hear about the kind of stuff you're fantasizing about."
Julien wanted to try to hit Myles where he thought it hurt? Two could play that game, and few people played it better than Myles. Julien was a monster, but he was an amateur at doing anything gracefully.
"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."
All she had to do was hate him more than she feared him.
That had been so easy, once upon a time. You had to feel unsafe to feel afraid, after all, and whatever had been said to her, whatever rumors she'd spread, whatever people she'd hurt, it was a very rare moment where she had any concern for her own physical well-being. Nick had thrown some cold coffee at her, and that was about the worst she'd had to tolerate. Even when Julien had attacked Myles unprovoked she'd been angry, furious even, but never afraid for herself. The Carters helped with that, of course, an implicit threat ready to become explicit at a moment's notice, but society did most of the work. She was tiny, and she was weak, and she was a girl, and that made her right in the eyes of anyone on the outside looking in no matter what she'd said or done.
Actions had consequences. No one could touch her.
Her swollen eye and aching side and those words spoke volumes about how much things had changed.
She'd run from Tyrell the moment he'd been distracted and he hadn't even hurt her. Hadn't even tried. Said some shit like he always did, but that hardly mattered. She still ran. She was afraid. She was afraid again. She would keep being afraid until she was dead but she had to hate him more than that, he had hurt Myles, he had hurt her, he had killed someone, he could have killed her, he had thought about—she was out of it for so long, he could have—what if he had—
She was shaking like a leaf. She hated him. She did. She hated him more than anything but she feared him more than that, even, more than anything, now, his very words violated her, she felt sick, but she had to hate him more. She had to turn ice into fire. She had to find something to burn.
Had to keep moving.
Myles would keep his attention. No one in the world better at pressing buttons. She loved him. Julien would hurt him if he could. She knew that. That was something, some unselfish motivation, something to get sparks going, she still felt like she was going to vomit.
She could see him barely, now, though the trees. Behind him. She'd done a good job.
He wasn't far. If she was quick, and quiet—no, she had to get his attention first. Spraying the back of his head would just piss him off. She spritzed the bleach spray once, to test it. The wind was blowing away from her. The spray worked. It had a range of something. She couldn't tell.
She hated the way she was breathing. She hated the way she knew he knew.
She hated him. She did.
It had to be enough.
That had been so easy, once upon a time. You had to feel unsafe to feel afraid, after all, and whatever had been said to her, whatever rumors she'd spread, whatever people she'd hurt, it was a very rare moment where she had any concern for her own physical well-being. Nick had thrown some cold coffee at her, and that was about the worst she'd had to tolerate. Even when Julien had attacked Myles unprovoked she'd been angry, furious even, but never afraid for herself. The Carters helped with that, of course, an implicit threat ready to become explicit at a moment's notice, but society did most of the work. She was tiny, and she was weak, and she was a girl, and that made her right in the eyes of anyone on the outside looking in no matter what she'd said or done.
Actions had consequences. No one could touch her.
Her swollen eye and aching side and those words spoke volumes about how much things had changed.
She'd run from Tyrell the moment he'd been distracted and he hadn't even hurt her. Hadn't even tried. Said some shit like he always did, but that hardly mattered. She still ran. She was afraid. She was afraid again. She would keep being afraid until she was dead but she had to hate him more than that, he had hurt Myles, he had hurt her, he had killed someone, he could have killed her, he had thought about—she was out of it for so long, he could have—what if he had—
She was shaking like a leaf. She hated him. She did. She hated him more than anything but she feared him more than that, even, more than anything, now, his very words violated her, she felt sick, but she had to hate him more. She had to turn ice into fire. She had to find something to burn.
Had to keep moving.
Myles would keep his attention. No one in the world better at pressing buttons. She loved him. Julien would hurt him if he could. She knew that. That was something, some unselfish motivation, something to get sparks going, she still felt like she was going to vomit.
She could see him barely, now, though the trees. Behind him. She'd done a good job.
He wasn't far. If she was quick, and quiet—no, she had to get his attention first. Spraying the back of his head would just piss him off. She spritzed the bleach spray once, to test it. The wind was blowing away from her. The spray worked. It had a range of something. She couldn't tell.
She hated the way she was breathing. She hated the way she knew he knew.
She hated him. She did.
It had to be enough.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
"See, if I am what you say I am, why didn't I do it? There would have been absolutely nothing in my way, so I could have just broken her in half easily. But no, here she is, wherever the hell 'here' currently is for her, lurking around and mostly intact. So come on. Answer me." It was a nice jab at him, Julien would give him that, but it was too telling that he'd made it, just further proof he somehow still didn't genuinely understand that they weren't all spinning along on the same old paradigm as they'd used to.
It was an easy mistake to make, to be fair, especially since they'd not even been here for a week. But when you had the fucking sword of Damocles hanging over you, even a few days could be forever. Though... it made more sense if he considered the very real possibility that Myles had only ever been as popular as he was before because he'd come as a package-deal with Ivy. Of course he would be slower to adapt to being just as open to getting fucked as anybody else.
A shame, really.
"Oh, and trying to bait me with Faith really doesn't work any more, man." Sure enough, the attempt amused him more than anything, not least because he naturally knew a thing or two that Myles didn't. "And that's a lot of hate you're carrying around for me there too; good. You should hate me. But words just don't cut it like they used to, so you better find something a little more physical to try with or you're going to end up getting torn to shreds by someone far worse than me."
It was an easy mistake to make, to be fair, especially since they'd not even been here for a week. But when you had the fucking sword of Damocles hanging over you, even a few days could be forever. Though... it made more sense if he considered the very real possibility that Myles had only ever been as popular as he was before because he'd come as a package-deal with Ivy. Of course he would be slower to adapt to being just as open to getting fucked as anybody else.
A shame, really.
"Oh, and trying to bait me with Faith really doesn't work any more, man." Sure enough, the attempt amused him more than anything, not least because he naturally knew a thing or two that Myles didn't. "And that's a lot of hate you're carrying around for me there too; good. You should hate me. But words just don't cut it like they used to, so you better find something a little more physical to try with or you're going to end up getting torn to shreds by someone far worse than me."
As soon as Julien made the quip about getting physical, Myles realized what he was angling at. It wasn't happening, at least not the way Julien wanted it. If he had some kind of big idea about a one-on-one, knock-down drag out fight, he was delusional. Honestly, he probably was delusional, since he clearly thought that gloating about how he didn't rape and kill an unconscious girl when he could have gave him some kind of moral high ground over Myles who had done... oh yeah, absolutely nothing comparable to that.
Ugly.
Myles had thrown that word at Julien before. He'd meant it then, and he meant it now as it surfaced in his mind. "How the hell am I supposed to know why you did or didn't do anything!?" He snapped. "You're human garbage and proud of it. If you really want to make a point about how you're such a good guy, why don't you walk yourself over to the lookout drop and do everyone a favor?"
It was the kind of thing he'd never say at home, because God knew that actually telling someone to go and kill themselves wasn't the something he could talk his way out of. But God he meant it, and he was ready to say more until the tiny bright figure emerging from the trees behind Julien caught his attention.
Myles didn't really have a fight-or-flight response, he'd found. It was more like flight-or-freeze. So as much as he wanted to do something when Ivy made her move, whether it was shout her away or run in to help her, his heart seized and so did he.
Ugly.
Myles had thrown that word at Julien before. He'd meant it then, and he meant it now as it surfaced in his mind. "How the hell am I supposed to know why you did or didn't do anything!?" He snapped. "You're human garbage and proud of it. If you really want to make a point about how you're such a good guy, why don't you walk yourself over to the lookout drop and do everyone a favor?"
It was the kind of thing he'd never say at home, because God knew that actually telling someone to go and kill themselves wasn't the something he could talk his way out of. But God he meant it, and he was ready to say more until the tiny bright figure emerging from the trees behind Julien caught his attention.
Myles didn't really have a fight-or-flight response, he'd found. It was more like flight-or-freeze. So as much as he wanted to do something when Ivy made her move, whether it was shout her away or run in to help her, his heart seized and so did he.
"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."