((Josh James continued from Paprika ))
He had tried to clean himself off with the snow, which resulted in his pants being cold and wet, as if he'd fallen into the slush. Josh had drank more of his beer and the more he drank, the warmer he felt.
I should get inside, bounced fuzzily around his head. I can warm up, dry off.
He saw a little building jutting up. Josh took another drink and concluded it looked empty. He climbed the steps, then opened the door.
The place looked messy with things thrown about, but it had a desk and some chairs. Josh decided that he should try transgressing a bit more, become used to doing the unacceptable.
He walked past the chairs and instead sat on the desk.
I'm sitting on a desk.
He put his feet on the wood.
My muddy feet are on the desk.
He grinned goofily and took another big drink of his pitcher of beer, now 3/4th empty.
The Fall
Mid day 3, Open
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 2541
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Throughout the few hours, Amy thought a lot about things that weren’t real. The characters and the places and the religions in her mind, the economies and ecosystems and the cultural traditions, the people that existed and the people that didn’t. She had a lot going on in her mind. It kept her busy, when the real world couldn’t. She didn’t really know how it was supposed to work. To just… open your eyes and stare into reality in its raw, unfiltered form and accept it. There has to be something more, there has to be a power from imagination and the soul. Some kind of force. Otherwise, what else was there? We’re born and we grow and we wake up every day, eat and work and shit and go back home after the 9-to-5 and get ready to start it all over again? She couldn’t accept that. That couldn’t be it.
So almost every time she wasn’t thinking about herself and other people and survival and death, she was thinking about something else that didn’t exist. People that were deeper, kinder, more comfortable to her than the people that she could hold in her real hands.
Once in a while, her mind wandered to the dark, dusty corners that she pretended didn’t exist, and she’d think about the future, and what would happen then, when she’d have to stare death in the face. She didn’t like that.
Anyways, the door slightly opened
So almost every time she wasn’t thinking about herself and other people and survival and death, she was thinking about something else that didn’t exist. People that were deeper, kinder, more comfortable to her than the people that she could hold in her real hands.
Once in a while, her mind wandered to the dark, dusty corners that she pretended didn’t exist, and she’d think about the future, and what would happen then, when she’d have to stare death in the face. She didn’t like that.
Anyways, the door slightly opened
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 2541
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
The door all the way opened.
She would have to think about the present, what would happen now, when she was staring a gun in the face.
Josh noticed the creek of footsteps, the whine of the ancient door nudging ever so slightly ajar. He hopped off the desk, gun in hand, and stuck his face through the opening. He noticed that the person was significantly shorter than him, and instead of being face to face as he expected, she was at the level of his assault rifle.
He bent down so that they were eye to eye.
"I think it's kind of rude not to knock, right?" he said, looking at her curiously.
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her in.
She would have to think about the present, what would happen now, when she was staring a gun in the face.
Josh noticed the creek of footsteps, the whine of the ancient door nudging ever so slightly ajar. He hopped off the desk, gun in hand, and stuck his face through the opening. He noticed that the person was significantly shorter than him, and instead of being face to face as he expected, she was at the level of his assault rifle.
He bent down so that they were eye to eye.
"I think it's kind of rude not to knock, right?" he said, looking at her curiously.
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her in.
Exhibit 1:
A list of unique potentially dangerous natural phenomena in the nation of Aecoria, written for prospective tourists;
The Call Of The Deep manifests as a natural wail from the depths of the sea, and is an uniquely Aecorian phenomenon. Although benign, the vocalizations are distracting and seemingly occur psychically instead of physically, being undetectable to electronics. Prolonged exposure causes hallucinations and psychosis. When The Call begins, Ocean Listeners, specialists with trained ears, would sound warning bells to warn citizens and drown out the sounds, and everybody would put on earplugs or muffling devices for the next few minutes before they dissipate.
Sap runs. Although uncommon in Aecoria, which has no major forests, sap runs are still incredibly dangerous once they occur, and as a result arborflere saplings are systematically eliminated by sap watchers in its woodier areas every year. Despite this, more resilient strains survive closer to the coast where the watchers don’t check often. The main issue is with the arborflere Aecostia, a specific strain mostly confined within Aecoria's sandier beaches. The sap from these trees are runnier, clearer, and, most importantly, can contaminate or be carried by shore waves, leaving huge stretches of beach congealed.
Shell sacrifices, although uncommon in this day and age, are still regularly witnessed by more rural locals, with occasional catastrophic results. Because of the sheer volume of seashells, as opposed to inland occurrences using molted skin and other substitutes, the results can be devastating. Thus, non-locals are advised to stay away from beaches with high shell density, especially if they cannot identify the warning signs. Several local settlements have been known to induce or strengthen naturally occuring sacrifices; this is highly illegal and all are advised to report it as soon as possible. Man-made shell sacrifices, although uncommon, can be environmentally disastrous.
The Great Peel: Within the kelp infested seas of the ri
Oh. Oh no.
Amy squeaked, legs trying to regain their balance as she was dragged inside. “Um,” she said, “um!”
Her back was pressed against the wall. She doesn’t know this man. She doesn’t know this man, and he was holding a gun, and he was dragging her by force into this room where they are all alone, and she doesn’t know what he wants to do with her and she doesn’t know how to fight against that because he is stronger than her. He is stronger than her. He has a gun. She doesn’t know what to do. She knows what he was going to do to her, probably, because he had a gun pointed right at her before he even said the first word, and she was scared.
Amy let herself get dragged in.
“I’m sorry,” she started. She didn’t want to be robbed or shot or raped. “I didn’t know someone was in here, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
A list of unique potentially dangerous natural phenomena in the nation of Aecoria, written for prospective tourists;
The Call Of The Deep manifests as a natural wail from the depths of the sea, and is an uniquely Aecorian phenomenon. Although benign, the vocalizations are distracting and seemingly occur psychically instead of physically, being undetectable to electronics. Prolonged exposure causes hallucinations and psychosis. When The Call begins, Ocean Listeners, specialists with trained ears, would sound warning bells to warn citizens and drown out the sounds, and everybody would put on earplugs or muffling devices for the next few minutes before they dissipate.
Sap runs. Although uncommon in Aecoria, which has no major forests, sap runs are still incredibly dangerous once they occur, and as a result arborflere saplings are systematically eliminated by sap watchers in its woodier areas every year. Despite this, more resilient strains survive closer to the coast where the watchers don’t check often. The main issue is with the arborflere Aecostia, a specific strain mostly confined within Aecoria's sandier beaches. The sap from these trees are runnier, clearer, and, most importantly, can contaminate or be carried by shore waves, leaving huge stretches of beach congealed.
Shell sacrifices, although uncommon in this day and age, are still regularly witnessed by more rural locals, with occasional catastrophic results. Because of the sheer volume of seashells, as opposed to inland occurrences using molted skin and other substitutes, the results can be devastating. Thus, non-locals are advised to stay away from beaches with high shell density, especially if they cannot identify the warning signs. Several local settlements have been known to induce or strengthen naturally occuring sacrifices; this is highly illegal and all are advised to report it as soon as possible. Man-made shell sacrifices, although uncommon, can be environmentally disastrous.
The Great Peel: Within the kelp infested seas of the ri
Oh. Oh no.
Amy squeaked, legs trying to regain their balance as she was dragged inside. “Um,” she said, “um!”
Her back was pressed against the wall. She doesn’t know this man. She doesn’t know this man, and he was holding a gun, and he was dragging her by force into this room where they are all alone, and she doesn’t know what he wants to do with her and she doesn’t know how to fight against that because he is stronger than her. He is stronger than her. He has a gun. She doesn’t know what to do. She knows what he was going to do to her, probably, because he had a gun pointed right at her before he even said the first word, and she was scared.
Amy let herself get dragged in.
“I’m sorry,” she started. She didn’t want to be robbed or shot or raped. “I didn’t know someone was in here, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 2541
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Josh grabbed her by the cheeks with his free hand and looked at her, standing not quite at full height, but still looking down at her.
"Hey." He looked her up and down conspicuously. "Did your mind wander for a second?"
He squeezed and pushed her face together, bothered by the thought that she'd come here, seen him, and then had a lapse in attention. He released her. Josh picked up one of the chairs and set it right again. The beer was going to his head, blurring the edges of his vision.
There was that feeling again of dipping into the wrong thing to do. This time, he'd come closer to making his peace with it though after his pondering at the graveyard. But he wasn't going to do anything; he was only going to tease a little. Just tease. That was all. It was. He didn't think he could do more.
Though he'd already done more.
But that's not a regular thing, right?
And if it was, would it be so bad? He just got a reward. Someone acknowledged him.
He wanted to have fun.
She was apologizing profusely and that made him smile. It made him forgive her lapse from earlier. She seemed scared. He shrugged shyly.
"You can sit if you want." He walked over to the door.
"Um, I'm Josh by the way," he said, glancing back at her discretely.
A click.
He locked the door.
"Hey." He looked her up and down conspicuously. "Did your mind wander for a second?"
He squeezed and pushed her face together, bothered by the thought that she'd come here, seen him, and then had a lapse in attention. He released her. Josh picked up one of the chairs and set it right again. The beer was going to his head, blurring the edges of his vision.
There was that feeling again of dipping into the wrong thing to do. This time, he'd come closer to making his peace with it though after his pondering at the graveyard. But he wasn't going to do anything; he was only going to tease a little. Just tease. That was all. It was. He didn't think he could do more.
Though he'd already done more.
But that's not a regular thing, right?
And if it was, would it be so bad? He just got a reward. Someone acknowledged him.
He wanted to have fun.
She was apologizing profusely and that made him smile. It made him forgive her lapse from earlier. She seemed scared. He shrugged shyly.
"You can sit if you want." He walked over to the door.
"Um, I'm Josh by the way," he said, glancing back at her discretely.
A click.
He locked the door.
She left the two for ten minutes and this is what happens. Her face smushed in like a chipmunk, someone drunk with a gun trapping her into the room.
"No," Amy protested, and with her face grabbed she it sounded more like a 'nu.' Which was a lie, but a safer thing to say than the truth, probably. That she was an easy target.
His breath hit her cheek and it smelled a little bit of natural mouth smells and also alcohol. Was he drunk? He might be drunk.
"Uh. Hi, Josh. I, I didn't mean to-"
She turned her gaze from him to the door to the chair that he set. And then sat down. It was an OK chair. She started over.
"Me and my friends are looking for a place to stay," she said, a little breathy. She smiled. Awkwardly. Maybe he'd like it more if she smiled? She didn't want him to hurt her.
"No," Amy protested, and with her face grabbed she it sounded more like a 'nu.' Which was a lie, but a safer thing to say than the truth, probably. That she was an easy target.
His breath hit her cheek and it smelled a little bit of natural mouth smells and also alcohol. Was he drunk? He might be drunk.
"Uh. Hi, Josh. I, I didn't mean to-"
She turned her gaze from him to the door to the chair that he set. And then sat down. It was an OK chair. She started over.
"Me and my friends are looking for a place to stay," she said, a little breathy. She smiled. Awkwardly. Maybe he'd like it more if she smiled? She didn't want him to hurt her.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 2541
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
She didn't react to the knowledge of who he was. That kind of stung in a familiar way. He was used to it, but he thought maybe now that might change since his name got blasted across the island. Maybe.... it wasn't enough?
"So what's your name?" he asked.
Josh turned around. The door was behind him. In front of him was the single room. The one chair was up in the middle, with the girl sitting in it. Past her was the desk with a window behind it. To the sides of the desk were some cabinets. There was junk just thrown all over the floor. Out of a half open drawer of the desk, he saw something glint.
Josh walked past the girl. The gun was in his right hand and the tips of the fingers of his left hand brushed against her scarf as he walked past. He lifted his eyebrow as he removed the object from the desk -- a bottle of liquid. The label declared it to be whiskey. He looked at the girl, then put the gun down on top of the desk. He walked around so that he was leaning against the desk, in front of her.
Josh took the lid off the pitcher holding the last quarter of beer and poured a bit of the whiskey into it. He swirled it around a little, then took a drink and grimaced and coughed a little. The liquid now had a scorching quality to it, and made him even warmer.
Josh vaguely recognized her, but didn't know anything more. He got the sense that she was also someone who kind of existed on the edges of things. That gave him somewhat of an idea of what he thought would be a good way to spend the time.
He knelt down in front of her and put the pitcher on her lap.
"Here. Drink some," he said, returning her smile.
"Friends?" he asked, picking up the end of her scarf and looking at it.
"So what's your name?" he asked.
Josh turned around. The door was behind him. In front of him was the single room. The one chair was up in the middle, with the girl sitting in it. Past her was the desk with a window behind it. To the sides of the desk were some cabinets. There was junk just thrown all over the floor. Out of a half open drawer of the desk, he saw something glint.
Josh walked past the girl. The gun was in his right hand and the tips of the fingers of his left hand brushed against her scarf as he walked past. He lifted his eyebrow as he removed the object from the desk -- a bottle of liquid. The label declared it to be whiskey. He looked at the girl, then put the gun down on top of the desk. He walked around so that he was leaning against the desk, in front of her.
Josh took the lid off the pitcher holding the last quarter of beer and poured a bit of the whiskey into it. He swirled it around a little, then took a drink and grimaced and coughed a little. The liquid now had a scorching quality to it, and made him even warmer.
Josh vaguely recognized her, but didn't know anything more. He got the sense that she was also someone who kind of existed on the edges of things. That gave him somewhat of an idea of what he thought would be a good way to spend the time.
He knelt down in front of her and put the pitcher on her lap.
"Here. Drink some," he said, returning her smile.
"Friends?" he asked, picking up the end of her scarf and looking at it.
“Well, not friends, since I just met them when we first got here, but, erm… Their names are… shoot, I forgot. There was this one nonbinary guy, well, not guy, erm, they were white? And taller than me. Even though they didn’t have a white name. And Maria? I think that’s that, also a lot taller than me. Like, really tall. And big. Buff, I mean, not fat. She’s African-American. I think. She was…” Amy wrung her hands around, struggling to recall details. “She had hair that was pretty cool. I’m sorry. I’m bad at people.”
Amy didn’t know what to feel about this person. On the one hand, he was scary, and he held a gun to her. On the other hand, he was kind of friendly? Sort of? So maybe he was just touchy feely with her because he kind of lacked boundaries like that. She could respect that. Most people on here probably would’ve killed her. Amy felt a bit ashamed at herself that she was so paranoid about this boy at first, when he put the gun down in front of her, but she tried to shake it off. Like she said, she was bad at people.
“Ohh you meant friends as in if we are friends. Um. Sure. If that’s what you want.”
She held the pitcher up to her lips, tried to ready herself, and took a tiny sip. It burned. And was gross. Why do adults drink this? Wait, she was kind of an adult, scratch that, why would anyone drink this? And maybe it was placebo and maybe it was just some sort of stockholm syndrome, but the, what, 600 microliters of liquid courage kind of helped her not squirm when he started fiddling at her scarf. It was an old one. Kind of frayed at the edges. But it was comfortable, and soft, and she knew it because she made it herself.
"Thanks."
Wait. What if it was poisoned? No wait he drank from it too so like. But. Hold on. What if he had an antidote and that was like his weapon? But he already had a gun, so. Nonononono maybe he got it from someone else? The antidote or the gun? But...
She tried to clear her thoughts.
Amy didn’t know what to feel about this person. On the one hand, he was scary, and he held a gun to her. On the other hand, he was kind of friendly? Sort of? So maybe he was just touchy feely with her because he kind of lacked boundaries like that. She could respect that. Most people on here probably would’ve killed her. Amy felt a bit ashamed at herself that she was so paranoid about this boy at first, when he put the gun down in front of her, but she tried to shake it off. Like she said, she was bad at people.
“Ohh you meant friends as in if we are friends. Um. Sure. If that’s what you want.”
She held the pitcher up to her lips, tried to ready herself, and took a tiny sip. It burned. And was gross. Why do adults drink this? Wait, she was kind of an adult, scratch that, why would anyone drink this? And maybe it was placebo and maybe it was just some sort of stockholm syndrome, but the, what, 600 microliters of liquid courage kind of helped her not squirm when he started fiddling at her scarf. It was an old one. Kind of frayed at the edges. But it was comfortable, and soft, and she knew it because she made it herself.
"Thanks."
Wait. What if it was poisoned? No wait he drank from it too so like. But. Hold on. What if he had an antidote and that was like his weapon? But he already had a gun, so. Nonononono maybe he got it from someone else? The antidote or the gun? But...
She tried to clear her thoughts.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 2541
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Josh looked down thoughtfully and put his index finger to his bottom lip.
"Hmm."
The bandaid that was across his nose came into his vision. He ran a hand through his blond hair, tousling it. He listened to her ramble about the people she had been with. He would make sure to stay near the gun if they showed up. Josh didn't like the idea of two people who could match him in a physical fight. He could lose the reigns of the situation, which he wanted to avoid at all costs.
She misunderstood and then thought it had actually been a question about their status, her and him.
Josh looked away, put his right hand against his cheek, and smiled timidly. His face already had a generally rosy tint from the alcohol.
"Only if you want it -- to be friends," he mumbled in response. "I don't think I have many."
He pushed the bottom of the pitcher up, so she would be forced to drink more or let some spill.
"If they're your friends, how come you're here alone? If they're big and strong, shouldn't they have come with you?"
Josh felt a bit giddy, like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to. Sneaking into a movie theater without paying or writing on a desk with permanent marker -- or this is how he imagined those things would feel like since he never actually did them.
"Shouldn't they worry over you? Make sure you're OK?"
"Hmm."
The bandaid that was across his nose came into his vision. He ran a hand through his blond hair, tousling it. He listened to her ramble about the people she had been with. He would make sure to stay near the gun if they showed up. Josh didn't like the idea of two people who could match him in a physical fight. He could lose the reigns of the situation, which he wanted to avoid at all costs.
She misunderstood and then thought it had actually been a question about their status, her and him.
Josh looked away, put his right hand against his cheek, and smiled timidly. His face already had a generally rosy tint from the alcohol.
"Only if you want it -- to be friends," he mumbled in response. "I don't think I have many."
He pushed the bottom of the pitcher up, so she would be forced to drink more or let some spill.
"If they're your friends, how come you're here alone? If they're big and strong, shouldn't they have come with you?"
Josh felt a bit giddy, like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to. Sneaking into a movie theater without paying or writing on a desk with permanent marker -- or this is how he imagined those things would feel like since he never actually did them.
"Shouldn't they worry over you? Make sure you're OK?"
A bit of the whatever-mix dribbled down her chin. Amy tried to not have it burst through her nose because wow, it was that bad. She put her hand up, trying to push him away without making it seem like she was pushing him away.
After a few seconds, she answered. “Well, I mean, it isn’t, like, their responsibility?” As if there ever was an inherent responsibility for anyone to protect her here at all. She wasn’t exactly dumb about that. She had made up her mind about not relying on people the first time someone shot her on here and the other guy did nothing to help her. Maria (is that her name?) didn’t really even believe the whole thing at first. Asked her if it was a prank. Amy thought about it for a second back then and said that they should just apply Occam's razor and assume it was the real deal. If optimism was something that she was allowed to feel at the moment, she would’ve said that they’ve been lucky so far. Didn’t really… see that many other people. Huddled around, walked in the snow, talked, ate.
Maybe saw a corpse or two, but it could’ve just been logs, and she didn’t want to check.
But Amy was small, and one of them was big and the other one had a gun. So it was a little unfair that she was the first person here to meet him. He was right. He was being way too touchy and uncomfortable and Amy didn’t really like him all that much for making her drink the mystery brew, but he was right. And it felt nice to be indoors in a room that was hospitable and not filled with shattered glass or weird stains or bad vibes in general.
After a few seconds, she answered. “Well, I mean, it isn’t, like, their responsibility?” As if there ever was an inherent responsibility for anyone to protect her here at all. She wasn’t exactly dumb about that. She had made up her mind about not relying on people the first time someone shot her on here and the other guy did nothing to help her. Maria (is that her name?) didn’t really even believe the whole thing at first. Asked her if it was a prank. Amy thought about it for a second back then and said that they should just apply Occam's razor and assume it was the real deal. If optimism was something that she was allowed to feel at the moment, she would’ve said that they’ve been lucky so far. Didn’t really… see that many other people. Huddled around, walked in the snow, talked, ate.
Maybe saw a corpse or two, but it could’ve just been logs, and she didn’t want to check.
But Amy was small, and one of them was big and the other one had a gun. So it was a little unfair that she was the first person here to meet him. He was right. He was being way too touchy and uncomfortable and Amy didn’t really like him all that much for making her drink the mystery brew, but he was right. And it felt nice to be indoors in a room that was hospitable and not filled with shattered glass or weird stains or bad vibes in general.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
((from mad films etc
"Amy? Where'd you get to?"
They took their eyes off her for a second, just a second, and now Prii couldn't figure out where she went. She couldn't have just vanished into thin air, but all there was that was here was... around the corner of the building they'd all been eyeing up.
Okay, logical hat on, Prii. Amy was here a moment ago, then she wasn't. There wasn't anywhere close enough for her to have ran off to around the side of the building, but she'd got out of sight nonetheless. That meant she'd gone inside, right?
Right. Simple enough.
Prii tried the door. Didn't budge.
...Amy did not just lock them out.
Time to call for her again. "Amy?" They put their face close to the door. "You in here?"
"Amy? Where'd you get to?"
They took their eyes off her for a second, just a second, and now Prii couldn't figure out where she went. She couldn't have just vanished into thin air, but all there was that was here was... around the corner of the building they'd all been eyeing up.
Okay, logical hat on, Prii. Amy was here a moment ago, then she wasn't. There wasn't anywhere close enough for her to have ran off to around the side of the building, but she'd got out of sight nonetheless. That meant she'd gone inside, right?
Right. Simple enough.
Prii tried the door. Didn't budge.
...Amy did not just lock them out.
Time to call for her again. "Amy?" They put their face close to the door. "You in here?"
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 2541
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Josh crouched in front of her chair and slowly began to unwind the dark blue scarf around his neck.
"Mmm, no. It’s not their responsibility. But it’s what friends do. Not because they have to or because they’re responsible, but because they care. They notice things about you and listen and care. They should."
He used the scarf to dab at some of the alcohol that dripped down her cheek, then put it in her lap, but wouldn’t meet her eyes. Another deliberate invasion of her space. Josh heard the creek of the steps again.
He grabbed the end of her scarf and pulled it taught so that it constricted and pulled her forward before starting to unwind. He swallowed loudly and watched as the garment fed through his hands until he had the whole length.
There were no tags on it, and it had good stitches, but ones that had become comfortable and slightly relaxed with time that indicated it was handmade.
"You made this, didn’t you? No one’s ever made anything for me, so I’ll take it and think you made it for me," he said, with a hint of embarrassment. There was something intimate about trading pieces of clothing. He looked at her a moment and felt the urge to do something more, but the creaking meant his time was limited.
He stood and finished winding the new scarf around his own neck when the next noise came, as he suspected it would. As he said to her earlier, he didn’t want to stay now that he knew he’d be up against two other people or more with weapons in a confined place without cover. Normally convention would dictate that he would at least finish this conversation or respond to whoever was at the door, but not here. He didn’t feel like it, so he wouldn’t.
Josh walked to the desk, then picked his bag up the floor. Quickly, he took an empty plastic bottle out of it and poured half the contents of the whiskey bottle into it. He screwed the cap back on and put the whiskey back in the desk where he found it.
"Um, I’ll leave you to chew on that thought, Amy," he said quietly.
He put the bottle and his gun into his bag and zipped it up. Taking another one of the overturned chairs, he set it up right next to the filthy window and opened it, then stepped on the chair and climbed out the window. He landed on a balcony and closed the window behind him. Then he tossed his bag down onto the snow a story below. It would be fine if he hung down and then landed in a soft roll with bent knees. Then he would pick up his things and continue.
So he did.
He hung down.
And fell.
((Josh continued in It's A Kind Alot))
"Mmm, no. It’s not their responsibility. But it’s what friends do. Not because they have to or because they’re responsible, but because they care. They notice things about you and listen and care. They should."
He used the scarf to dab at some of the alcohol that dripped down her cheek, then put it in her lap, but wouldn’t meet her eyes. Another deliberate invasion of her space. Josh heard the creek of the steps again.
He grabbed the end of her scarf and pulled it taught so that it constricted and pulled her forward before starting to unwind. He swallowed loudly and watched as the garment fed through his hands until he had the whole length.
There were no tags on it, and it had good stitches, but ones that had become comfortable and slightly relaxed with time that indicated it was handmade.
"You made this, didn’t you? No one’s ever made anything for me, so I’ll take it and think you made it for me," he said, with a hint of embarrassment. There was something intimate about trading pieces of clothing. He looked at her a moment and felt the urge to do something more, but the creaking meant his time was limited.
He stood and finished winding the new scarf around his own neck when the next noise came, as he suspected it would. As he said to her earlier, he didn’t want to stay now that he knew he’d be up against two other people or more with weapons in a confined place without cover. Normally convention would dictate that he would at least finish this conversation or respond to whoever was at the door, but not here. He didn’t feel like it, so he wouldn’t.
Josh walked to the desk, then picked his bag up the floor. Quickly, he took an empty plastic bottle out of it and poured half the contents of the whiskey bottle into it. He screwed the cap back on and put the whiskey back in the desk where he found it.
"Um, I’ll leave you to chew on that thought, Amy," he said quietly.
He put the bottle and his gun into his bag and zipped it up. Taking another one of the overturned chairs, he set it up right next to the filthy window and opened it, then stepped on the chair and climbed out the window. He landed on a balcony and closed the window behind him. Then he tossed his bag down onto the snow a story below. It would be fine if he hung down and then landed in a soft roll with bent knees. Then he would pick up his things and continue.
So he did.
He hung down.
And fell.
((Josh continued in It's A Kind Alot))
"Yeah," she called out, to the voice, "Gimme a second!"
She turned back to Josh. "If that's what you want to think," she started, "Then, okay. You can take it." She felt kind of sad that he didn't have anything made for him for a long time. She was kind of the same, too, but she made her own things. So it was different, and less lonely.
"See you, Josh."
Amy watched as climbed out the window. She held her breath for a few seconds. And then, she picked up the pitcher, and, with one, fumbling hand, opened the locked door.
"...There was another guy here," she said to them. "Josh- something."
The pitcher was handed out like some sort of peace offering for the whole locked-out thing. "He left, though. Do you... want some... whatever drink this is? It's not poisoned, I think."
She turned back to Josh. "If that's what you want to think," she started, "Then, okay. You can take it." She felt kind of sad that he didn't have anything made for him for a long time. She was kind of the same, too, but she made her own things. So it was different, and less lonely.
"See you, Josh."
Amy watched as climbed out the window. She held her breath for a few seconds. And then, she picked up the pitcher, and, with one, fumbling hand, opened the locked door.
"...There was another guy here," she said to them. "Josh- something."
The pitcher was handed out like some sort of peace offering for the whole locked-out thing. "He left, though. Do you... want some... whatever drink this is? It's not poisoned, I think."
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
Oh thank god, there she was.
Prii puffed out an exhalation that was 50%+ relief as Amy opened up the door for them. Their brain didn't catch up for another moment or two and actually parse what she'd said.
"Josh... there was a Josh on the announcements—" their eyes widened. "Wait, he was here? Like right now here?" Prii bolted from the doorway and stumbled to ground level probably faster than was safe. The whole way, the carousel in their head was demanding to know what the heck they were doing didn't they learn from Hector and Quentin this was a terrible idea—they rounded the corner. Nothing. Maybe a retreating back, already fading into the snow?
Darnit.
They backtracked.
"Uhh... sorry," they called up to Amy. "I was concerned. He—I think I'm remembering right—strangled Zora. They gave him a prize," they rubbed their face vigorously with one hand. "I'll pass on the drink, thank you. You're alright?"
Prii puffed out an exhalation that was 50%+ relief as Amy opened up the door for them. Their brain didn't catch up for another moment or two and actually parse what she'd said.
"Josh... there was a Josh on the announcements—" their eyes widened. "Wait, he was here? Like right now here?" Prii bolted from the doorway and stumbled to ground level probably faster than was safe. The whole way, the carousel in their head was demanding to know what the heck they were doing didn't they learn from Hector and Quentin this was a terrible idea—they rounded the corner. Nothing. Maybe a retreating back, already fading into the snow?
Darnit.
They backtracked.
"Uhh... sorry," they called up to Amy. "I was concerned. He—I think I'm remembering right—strangled Zora. They gave him a prize," they rubbed their face vigorously with one hand. "I'll pass on the drink, thank you. You're alright?"
"Yeah, he, erm, is still here, kinda," she said. She didn't feel alright, but she probably was. "He just got out of the window." Amy thought about hugging them, but was kind of scared about making any sudden movements. She was still kind of scared... Of what? She wasn't sure.
She pointed at the spot where he disappeared from view, and she could hear the thud or him landing in the snow right there in her head.
"We were talking a minute ago. When I came here he pointed a gun at me, pulled me inside and locked me in." And then some sort of embarrassment flushed over her, and she berated herself. She couldn't believe that she let that happen to her. Not that she could've survived fighting back, but she didn't even try. It was the principal of the thing. She just sat there and let Josh do to her whatever he wanted to do and she was lucky that all he was thinking of at the time was trading scarves.
But she survived, didn't she? Maybe all Josh needed at the time was someone who was nice to him and didn't try to hurt him. Maybe her brain choosing fawn and freeze instead of fight and flight was... Kind of her own way of ensuring survival.
It was a stupid train of thought, but she was riding along with it anyways.
"But he didn't do anything to me! We just talked a little. I gave him my scarf and he gave me his and we drank some of this, um, beer-or-something."
"He was touchy and he kept on grabbing at me, though."
And then the second part of what they said kind of reached her mind, and she paused.
"I don't know who Zora is, but he was nice to me and he didn't hurt me. You don't have to worry! I'm alright."
Maybe she should... Put up a show or something. Cry. Yell. Talk about how violated she felt, how uncomfortable and scared and angry at him and also herself. But it wouldn't feel right. Because for some reason, at the time, she never really registered that violation. Amy went through situations like this more than she could count. She'd been catcalled and she felt weird about it and said "thank you, I like your shirt" or something back and then three days later she would be in class and she'd suddenly realize that the guy was actually being really gross and didn't actually care about her posture or whatever.
It was like that, but with a gun. And a guy who, apparently, won murder prizes. And she was never a good actor anyways. She would just come off as whiny and insincere and then they'd be worried about nothing and then drop her.
She pointed at the spot where he disappeared from view, and she could hear the thud or him landing in the snow right there in her head.
"We were talking a minute ago. When I came here he pointed a gun at me, pulled me inside and locked me in." And then some sort of embarrassment flushed over her, and she berated herself. She couldn't believe that she let that happen to her. Not that she could've survived fighting back, but she didn't even try. It was the principal of the thing. She just sat there and let Josh do to her whatever he wanted to do and she was lucky that all he was thinking of at the time was trading scarves.
But she survived, didn't she? Maybe all Josh needed at the time was someone who was nice to him and didn't try to hurt him. Maybe her brain choosing fawn and freeze instead of fight and flight was... Kind of her own way of ensuring survival.
It was a stupid train of thought, but she was riding along with it anyways.
"But he didn't do anything to me! We just talked a little. I gave him my scarf and he gave me his and we drank some of this, um, beer-or-something."
"He was touchy and he kept on grabbing at me, though."
And then the second part of what they said kind of reached her mind, and she paused.
"I don't know who Zora is, but he was nice to me and he didn't hurt me. You don't have to worry! I'm alright."
Maybe she should... Put up a show or something. Cry. Yell. Talk about how violated she felt, how uncomfortable and scared and angry at him and also herself. But it wouldn't feel right. Because for some reason, at the time, she never really registered that violation. Amy went through situations like this more than she could count. She'd been catcalled and she felt weird about it and said "thank you, I like your shirt" or something back and then three days later she would be in class and she'd suddenly realize that the guy was actually being really gross and didn't actually care about her posture or whatever.
It was like that, but with a gun. And a guy who, apparently, won murder prizes. And she was never a good actor anyways. She would just come off as whiny and insincere and then they'd be worried about nothing and then drop her.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth