((Hansel Williams, If I had known this, I would have put that patch on 35 years ago.))
There was fire, and there was brimstone.
These were the thoughts that accompanied Hansel as he trekked across the Hangar, eyes darting around to try and commit the surroundings to memory. Not too long ago, he'd associated those two things with people on the island that had enraged him and pushed him to a simmering state. Theo, for shooting him and leaving him for dead. Tyler, for being the cause of losing a great deal of his supplies.
But now? Revenge was the furthest thing from his mind. Now, he needed to scout, memorize, get a feel of the island that he was going to survive in. He wanted to know where breach points and sniper's lofts and places to fortify could be. He needed to find canned goods, supplies, soft beds.
He started with the hangar, figuring it as good a place as any to scavenge and investigate. He stood at the mouth of the building, turning in a slow circle, the FAMAS over his right shoulder as his finger toyed with the safety. It made a pleasant snick, click, clack as he switched it from safe to auto to semi and back. The resistance of the switch, the tiny little sound, soothed his anxiety.
Confident he was alone, he began walking into the hangar, drawn to the rusted airplane found inside.
Fill your hand, you son of a bitch
Private thread.
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NotAFlyingToy
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((Theodore Fletcher's story continues from I'll Face Myself (Another Version)))
Theo had wanted to set up camp somewhere, find a place to rest and see if he could catch anyone out there. It would be made a Danger Zone eventually, but it was worth a shot. Unfortunately this tactic was made improbable by the fact that his chosen location, the plane hangar, was housing one Hansel Williams.
Theo...had genuinely not expected to meet up with Hansel again. This would complicate matters. He stood behind a series of large crates just outside the hangar, peeking out to check on Hansel every few seconds. He could run, he really could, and get away.
But Hansel had a bag, and his very large gun. Theo knew it was risky, but he had a shot, and if he could take out Hansel he'd have supplies and weapons and be much better-off and safer.
He waited, only a short sprint away, for the right opportunity.
Then, Hansel started going into the hangar, and Theo sprinted after him, tackling the other boy from behind. If he could take him out quickly, it would give him a huge edge.
A little bit of revenge was on his mind, too.
Theo had wanted to set up camp somewhere, find a place to rest and see if he could catch anyone out there. It would be made a Danger Zone eventually, but it was worth a shot. Unfortunately this tactic was made improbable by the fact that his chosen location, the plane hangar, was housing one Hansel Williams.
Theo...had genuinely not expected to meet up with Hansel again. This would complicate matters. He stood behind a series of large crates just outside the hangar, peeking out to check on Hansel every few seconds. He could run, he really could, and get away.
But Hansel had a bag, and his very large gun. Theo knew it was risky, but he had a shot, and if he could take out Hansel he'd have supplies and weapons and be much better-off and safer.
He waited, only a short sprint away, for the right opportunity.
Then, Hansel started going into the hangar, and Theo sprinted after him, tackling the other boy from behind. If he could take him out quickly, it would give him a huge edge.
A little bit of revenge was on his mind, too.
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NotAFlyingToy
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One minute, Hansel was walking towards the plane.
The next, he was thrown into it, his arms pinwheeling forwards so that he didn't slam his head onto the metal siding, his palms stinging as he hit asphalt next to the landing gear, the FAMAS skittering away in one direction, his bag landing with a thump to his right.
He tried to roll over, to strike out with an elbow at his attacker, tried to growl a warning, hold on to his intimidation, gain any kind of ground.
What came out was a muffled, pathetic squeak, and his elbow hit nothing but air.
The next, he was thrown into it, his arms pinwheeling forwards so that he didn't slam his head onto the metal siding, his palms stinging as he hit asphalt next to the landing gear, the FAMAS skittering away in one direction, his bag landing with a thump to his right.
He tried to roll over, to strike out with an elbow at his attacker, tried to growl a warning, hold on to his intimidation, gain any kind of ground.
What came out was a muffled, pathetic squeak, and his elbow hit nothing but air.
Theo fell to the ground, landing on top of Hansel. He recovered quickly, and immediately he realized something. Something he probably should've considered before going off on this already risky escapade.
He couldn't physically kill Hansel without a weapon, at least not easily. He sucked in his breath as Hansel just missed his face with his strike.
Theo realized just how dangerous this was. One mistake could be lethal. He needed to be fast, incapacitate Hansel before he could fight back. His reaction was instinctive and brutal. Theo slammed his elbow into the other boy's face, feeling the force of the blow jar his arm.
He scrabbled up, climbing off of Hansel and darting for the dropped gun.
He couldn't physically kill Hansel without a weapon, at least not easily. He sucked in his breath as Hansel just missed his face with his strike.
Theo realized just how dangerous this was. One mistake could be lethal. He needed to be fast, incapacitate Hansel before he could fight back. His reaction was instinctive and brutal. Theo slammed his elbow into the other boy's face, feeling the force of the blow jar his arm.
He scrabbled up, climbing off of Hansel and darting for the dropped gun.
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NotAFlyingToy
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When Theo scampered away in the direction of the FAMAS, Hansel quickly deduced his intent. Theo was about to get the gun.
His gun.
Acting quickly, Hansel jumped to his feet, his right fist filled with rust shavings and loose stones from the asphalt he had laid on. Closing the distance between Theo and himself, and knowing that the other boy would reach the gun first, Hansel had only timing to hope for.
As Theo went for the gun, Hansel threw the debris, aiming for the smaller boy's face before launching into a tackle of his own.
His gun.
Acting quickly, Hansel jumped to his feet, his right fist filled with rust shavings and loose stones from the asphalt he had laid on. Closing the distance between Theo and himself, and knowing that the other boy would reach the gun first, Hansel had only timing to hope for.
As Theo went for the gun, Hansel threw the debris, aiming for the smaller boy's face before launching into a tackle of his own.
The moment he reached the gun, Theo scooped it off the floor and whipped around.
He received three things that moment. The first, relief as he went for the trigger, knowing that he'd won this, he had finally won a fight with someone, he had done something right.
The second was panic as he realized the rock flying towards his face was indeed about to hit him in the face. It did so, and he dropped the gun grabbing his forehead as stars danced in his vision and blood dribbled down his face.
The third was terror, abject terror as he felt a massive wall of force slam him to the ground. His head hit the stone with a crack, and he blinked, dazed by the blow.
Shit.
He received three things that moment. The first, relief as he went for the trigger, knowing that he'd won this, he had finally won a fight with someone, he had done something right.
The second was panic as he realized the rock flying towards his face was indeed about to hit him in the face. It did so, and he dropped the gun grabbing his forehead as stars danced in his vision and blood dribbled down his face.
The third was terror, abject terror as he felt a massive wall of force slam him to the ground. His head hit the stone with a crack, and he blinked, dazed by the blow.
Shit.
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NotAFlyingToy
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As Hansel slammed into the smaller boy, the FAMAS knocking against his shin and making him stumble, landing hard on his side as Theo went down. Scrambling, Hansel dove on top of the slighter boy, his hands grabbing Theo's temples with fistfuls of hair, pressing his head down as his thumbs covered Theo's eyes.
He began to apply pressure, gritting his teeth, his pulse pounding as he sought to end the boy's life.
He began to apply pressure, gritting his teeth, his pulse pounding as he sought to end the boy's life.
As Hansel drove his fingers into Theo's eyes, there wasn't much going though his head.
Besides the pain.
It hurt.
Theo screamed, and struggled and tried to fight because oh god his eyes his eyes his eyes his eyes oh god oh god
He drove his left knee into Hansel's crotch, hard as he could, fast as he could.
Besides the pain.
It hurt.
Theo screamed, and struggled and tried to fight because oh god his eyes his eyes his eyes his eyes oh god oh god
He drove his left knee into Hansel's crotch, hard as he could, fast as he could.
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NotAFlyingToy
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The first blow had Hansel jerking backwards, eyes immediately filling with water as he squeezed tighter to Theo's hair, thumbs digging deeper as the hard bone connected with his groin. He just needed to hold on - despite the boy's screams, despite his own pain. Just a little longer-
The second blow, however, had him releasing Theo to instinctively cover himself and roll off, the breath he'd scarcely regain snatched away again, blinding pain behind his eyelids even as he struggled to get some distance, find something - anything - to end the job.
There were shelves beside them that had wrenches and chucks of all sizes, for quick fixes and adjustments of the smaller planes. Trying to suck in air and wobbling, Hansel rose to his knees, then on one foot, limping towards the possible weaponry.
The second blow, however, had him releasing Theo to instinctively cover himself and roll off, the breath he'd scarcely regain snatched away again, blinding pain behind his eyelids even as he struggled to get some distance, find something - anything - to end the job.
There were shelves beside them that had wrenches and chucks of all sizes, for quick fixes and adjustments of the smaller planes. Trying to suck in air and wobbling, Hansel rose to his knees, then on one foot, limping towards the possible weaponry.
Thank god thank god thank god thank god
Theo sat up, sobbing into his hand, the pain slowly diminishing but the terror didn't. He couldn't see, he might never see again, he tried to stand but he was so off-balance he stumbled and fell to his knees and he sat on the ground sobbing, unable to fight.
A moment later he fought anyway, standing and blinking and trying to hear Hansel's steps. His vision was dark, blurry shapes, but he saw movement a few feet away. He stumbled as he moved forward, trying to get at Hansel.
He tripped.
Landed on his hands and knees he tried to get back to his feet.
Theo wasn't ready to die, not yet. He wanted to much to live right now, to win this fight and get out alive.
Theo sat up, sobbing into his hand, the pain slowly diminishing but the terror didn't. He couldn't see, he might never see again, he tried to stand but he was so off-balance he stumbled and fell to his knees and he sat on the ground sobbing, unable to fight.
A moment later he fought anyway, standing and blinking and trying to hear Hansel's steps. His vision was dark, blurry shapes, but he saw movement a few feet away. He stumbled as he moved forward, trying to get at Hansel.
He tripped.
Landed on his hands and knees he tried to get back to his feet.
Theo wasn't ready to die, not yet. He wanted to much to live right now, to win this fight and get out alive.
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NotAFlyingToy
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As Hansel made his way to the shelving unit, leaning against it heavily, he watched Theo struggle through the blurred tears, the lack of vision. He watched the effort, the scrambling, the failure as the smaller boy fell earthward in his attempt to get him, to keep living, to survive.
Turning to the shelf, Hansel ran his fingers over the various instruments - all were coated in rust, dirt, decay. His fingers stopped at an 18 inch pipe wrench, so thick with rust that the teeth were permanently ajar.
He lifted it off of the wall, turned to face Theo, testing its weight in his right hand as his wrist circled, the handle slick with blood.
Hansel lifted the wrench high, eyes on Theo's temple, watching, waiting, sizing up. When Theo got to the right height in Hansel's approximation, he set his jaw, steeled his form.
The wrench came down.
Turning to the shelf, Hansel ran his fingers over the various instruments - all were coated in rust, dirt, decay. His fingers stopped at an 18 inch pipe wrench, so thick with rust that the teeth were permanently ajar.
He lifted it off of the wall, turned to face Theo, testing its weight in his right hand as his wrist circled, the handle slick with blood.
Hansel lifted the wrench high, eyes on Theo's temple, watching, waiting, sizing up. When Theo got to the right height in Hansel's approximation, he set his jaw, steeled his form.
The wrench came down.
There are a lot of things Theo would've preferred to think of has Hansel beat him to death with a pipe.
He would've loved to be able to say a final farewell to his mom and dad and sister. Nancy was a good girl, and she was gonna go places, hopefully. He was kind of a shit big brother though, and now he'd never see his family again.
He wanted to apologize to Hansel. It had been all his fault that he'd gotten shot, all his fault. Maybe if they'd hit it off, and not fought, the two would've done some good on this island. Instead, they both became murderers, and wrought evil upon others.
He wanted to apologize to Gabby, Dan, Xavier and their families. He would've wanted to apologize to Bianca's too, if he knew what had happened to her. He'd done something terrible to them, and there really wasn't any excuse. He didn't deserve any sympathy, but he did wish he could help the families heal. Instead, they'd watch him die. Maybe that would help them too.
Theo wished he could go back in time, fix things, not kill people. He wasn't a religious person, so he didn't really have any faith in what would happen to him now. Whether it was hell, reincarnation as a dog or something, or nothing, Theo deserved the worst of it. He had always had a choice. He could've been good, done nothing. He would've gone to heaven then, maybe, if there was one. He doubted that was going to happen now though, unless God was feeling particularly pitying for him.
Actually, forget that. He just wished this had never happened, that version 5 of Survival of the Fittest had never transpired for the Aurora class. So many people dead, it was such a waste. Theo could've done great things, made himself something big, but instead he was dead, gone forever.
Instead of all that though, Theo got a massive blow to the skull, dropping him to his knees. Unable to focus, dazed and rattled, he could barely concentrate enough to form a solid thought before the next blow crushed his skull and ended his life forever.
He just wished he had a chance. So many choices, but in the end he never would've made it out alive.
B027: THEODORE FLETCHER: DECEASED
88 students remaining
He would've loved to be able to say a final farewell to his mom and dad and sister. Nancy was a good girl, and she was gonna go places, hopefully. He was kind of a shit big brother though, and now he'd never see his family again.
He wanted to apologize to Hansel. It had been all his fault that he'd gotten shot, all his fault. Maybe if they'd hit it off, and not fought, the two would've done some good on this island. Instead, they both became murderers, and wrought evil upon others.
He wanted to apologize to Gabby, Dan, Xavier and their families. He would've wanted to apologize to Bianca's too, if he knew what had happened to her. He'd done something terrible to them, and there really wasn't any excuse. He didn't deserve any sympathy, but he did wish he could help the families heal. Instead, they'd watch him die. Maybe that would help them too.
Theo wished he could go back in time, fix things, not kill people. He wasn't a religious person, so he didn't really have any faith in what would happen to him now. Whether it was hell, reincarnation as a dog or something, or nothing, Theo deserved the worst of it. He had always had a choice. He could've been good, done nothing. He would've gone to heaven then, maybe, if there was one. He doubted that was going to happen now though, unless God was feeling particularly pitying for him.
Actually, forget that. He just wished this had never happened, that version 5 of Survival of the Fittest had never transpired for the Aurora class. So many people dead, it was such a waste. Theo could've done great things, made himself something big, but instead he was dead, gone forever.
Instead of all that though, Theo got a massive blow to the skull, dropping him to his knees. Unable to focus, dazed and rattled, he could barely concentrate enough to form a solid thought before the next blow crushed his skull and ended his life forever.
He just wished he had a chance. So many choices, but in the end he never would've made it out alive.
B027: THEODORE FLETCHER: DECEASED
88 students remaining
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NotAFlyingToy
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Again.
Again.
Again.
The muffled clang, the sickening squelch, the deepening thud of his arm vibrating from the repeated impact of steel and flesh and bone. Rust chips flew outwards, mixed with the red of gore, the white of skull, the flesh colour of skin.
He didn't stop hitting Theo until the wrench just sunk into his skull and wouldn't be tugged out.
Then, Hansel flopped backwards onto his ass, slid his knees to his chest, and folded his arms.
And stared at the remnants of one of his greatest rivals.
There was no mourning, no questioning of the why's and how's, no contemplation of who Theo was and what he could've been. There wasn't a sense of sorrow or contempt or forgiveness.
There was simple emptiness coupled with the acidic taste of bile, a wave of unflinching apathy coupled with an urge to vomit that combined was somehow worse than any regret or remorse he could've felt.
He sat, and stared, and wondered, his hand curling into a fist, tightening, then releasing. Slow, steady, to a rhythm only he heard.
His chin was scraped and bleeding, his face, dark red shirt, and arms were coated with an even darker shade. His hat was somewhere near the plane, on its side, gently rocking with the slight breeze. His jeans were ripped in the knee - where the skin stung from being skinned in the tussle. He should take care of his appearance, his wounds. He should resume his scouting of the location, gather supplies, move forward with his plan.
Instead, he remained seated, anchored to the ground.
Instead, he stared.
Again.
Again.
The muffled clang, the sickening squelch, the deepening thud of his arm vibrating from the repeated impact of steel and flesh and bone. Rust chips flew outwards, mixed with the red of gore, the white of skull, the flesh colour of skin.
He didn't stop hitting Theo until the wrench just sunk into his skull and wouldn't be tugged out.
Then, Hansel flopped backwards onto his ass, slid his knees to his chest, and folded his arms.
And stared at the remnants of one of his greatest rivals.
There was no mourning, no questioning of the why's and how's, no contemplation of who Theo was and what he could've been. There wasn't a sense of sorrow or contempt or forgiveness.
There was simple emptiness coupled with the acidic taste of bile, a wave of unflinching apathy coupled with an urge to vomit that combined was somehow worse than any regret or remorse he could've felt.
He sat, and stared, and wondered, his hand curling into a fist, tightening, then releasing. Slow, steady, to a rhythm only he heard.
His chin was scraped and bleeding, his face, dark red shirt, and arms were coated with an even darker shade. His hat was somewhere near the plane, on its side, gently rocking with the slight breeze. His jeans were ripped in the knee - where the skin stung from being skinned in the tussle. He should take care of his appearance, his wounds. He should resume his scouting of the location, gather supplies, move forward with his plan.
Instead, he remained seated, anchored to the ground.
Instead, he stared.
[Andi Victorino, girl no. 1, continued from: IF I HAD KNOWN THIS...]
Andi's stubborn streak was legendary and anyone who knew her personally would attest to her inability to let even the smallest things go, especially when things didn't go her way. Backing down wasn't something she did, viewing it as no better than losing or admitting defeat. Maybe it was foolhardy or stupid and perhaps she let her pride govern her far too much, but it was just who she was and no matter how far the island has twisted her and shaped who she was rapidly becoming, there was no changing who she was underneath it all.
It was that stubbornness that drove her to follow Hansel from the hospital. She knew she was wearing him down, getting through to him and selling herself well before Michael showed up and she couldn't let that go. Not when using him as a figurehead could benefit her so much. She'd thought about it a lot while shadowing him, about how 'allies' were nothing but hindrances in her plan. You get attached to allies, worry about their well-being, hurt when they're gone. With someone like Hansel, she wouldn't have to worry about getting close to him. They could use one another. Tools that would further them in the game until they didn't need one another anymore. Then it was just a question of who'd dispose of the other first.
Andi was several yards away when they'd arrived at the hangar, having had to fall back once the cover of the city dissipated. She took cover behind one of the park planes, lowering herself close to the grass as she edged around it to get a better view of Hansel. Approaching him wasn't as simple as she'd once thought, not when he was constantly in a state of visible paranoia, frequently checking all sides with his gun cocked. She doubted she would be as lucky as she had during their first encounter. People like Hansel didn't take well to being tailed, she figured. She just had to wait for an opening. Be patient.
She didn't have to wait long, though.
From her position behind the plane, Andi saw another figure dart from behind some nearby crates into the hangar, though her position left her with little visibility of the inside.
She recognized the gangly figure though, with his long hair and spider-like limbs.
Theodore Fletcher wasn't someone she'd paid much attention to back at school, they ran in completely different circles and she found him painfully awkward to be around, but he'd made a name for himself as one of the island's biggest killers, right alongside Hansel.
Pained grunts and the sounds of struggle echoed from the lofty building, reaching her even yards away. Quickly, she darted from her position to an adjacent stack of crates that provided a view inside the hangar, knowing they likely wouldn't notice the flash of her colorful attire if they were fighting. Inside, Hansel and Theo were nothing more than a jumble of figures rolling on the floor, though Theo quickly got the upperhand once he'd pinned Hansel down and raced toward what she assumed was a gun lying a couple feet away.
Andi found herself unable to tear herself away from the fight, her mouth hanging agape and heart racing. The fight itself didn't last long, maybe five minutes, but it seemed to play out in front of her in slow motion. They were fighting hard and she could see the desperation to live in each of their movements, their graceless stumbling and haggard groans seeming surreal the longer she watched.
And then as quickly as it had started, it was over.
She had to turn her head after Hansel's initial strike, but she knew it was done, several wets blows continuing afterwards.
Just like that, Theo was dead.
She waited for quite awhile, suddenly realizing she was trembling. The brutality of the fight had left her shaken, despite having no part in it. The idea that she could be in Theo's position any minute was enough to terrify her, but more than that, she found herself unable to sympathize with Theo. When she looked back and saw the mess of what was a living person just seconds earlier, she didn't see someone who wanted to go home just as much as she did, or someone with a family that was worried about them. What she saw was one less hurdle to jump on her path to winning.
That itself was scarier than anything she'd see on the island.
Thinking about that wasn't accomplishing anything though, she decided as she stood up, fighting back the trembling of her legs.
She had to be pro-active and there wouldn't be a better chance to approach Hansel. He was likely still in shock and his gun was still a couple feet away, so if he wanted to shoot her, he'd have to run to it and give her her own chance to run by doing so. She swallowed a large lump in her throat as she approach and tried to steady out her breathing. When she was just a couple feet away, she crouched down, similar to how you'd approach a child or a stray animal.
"I'm not here to hurt you," She said, her soft voice faltering slightly, "You okay? I told you that you could've used my help."
Andi's stubborn streak was legendary and anyone who knew her personally would attest to her inability to let even the smallest things go, especially when things didn't go her way. Backing down wasn't something she did, viewing it as no better than losing or admitting defeat. Maybe it was foolhardy or stupid and perhaps she let her pride govern her far too much, but it was just who she was and no matter how far the island has twisted her and shaped who she was rapidly becoming, there was no changing who she was underneath it all.
It was that stubbornness that drove her to follow Hansel from the hospital. She knew she was wearing him down, getting through to him and selling herself well before Michael showed up and she couldn't let that go. Not when using him as a figurehead could benefit her so much. She'd thought about it a lot while shadowing him, about how 'allies' were nothing but hindrances in her plan. You get attached to allies, worry about their well-being, hurt when they're gone. With someone like Hansel, she wouldn't have to worry about getting close to him. They could use one another. Tools that would further them in the game until they didn't need one another anymore. Then it was just a question of who'd dispose of the other first.
Andi was several yards away when they'd arrived at the hangar, having had to fall back once the cover of the city dissipated. She took cover behind one of the park planes, lowering herself close to the grass as she edged around it to get a better view of Hansel. Approaching him wasn't as simple as she'd once thought, not when he was constantly in a state of visible paranoia, frequently checking all sides with his gun cocked. She doubted she would be as lucky as she had during their first encounter. People like Hansel didn't take well to being tailed, she figured. She just had to wait for an opening. Be patient.
She didn't have to wait long, though.
From her position behind the plane, Andi saw another figure dart from behind some nearby crates into the hangar, though her position left her with little visibility of the inside.
She recognized the gangly figure though, with his long hair and spider-like limbs.
Theodore Fletcher wasn't someone she'd paid much attention to back at school, they ran in completely different circles and she found him painfully awkward to be around, but he'd made a name for himself as one of the island's biggest killers, right alongside Hansel.
Pained grunts and the sounds of struggle echoed from the lofty building, reaching her even yards away. Quickly, she darted from her position to an adjacent stack of crates that provided a view inside the hangar, knowing they likely wouldn't notice the flash of her colorful attire if they were fighting. Inside, Hansel and Theo were nothing more than a jumble of figures rolling on the floor, though Theo quickly got the upperhand once he'd pinned Hansel down and raced toward what she assumed was a gun lying a couple feet away.
Andi found herself unable to tear herself away from the fight, her mouth hanging agape and heart racing. The fight itself didn't last long, maybe five minutes, but it seemed to play out in front of her in slow motion. They were fighting hard and she could see the desperation to live in each of their movements, their graceless stumbling and haggard groans seeming surreal the longer she watched.
And then as quickly as it had started, it was over.
She had to turn her head after Hansel's initial strike, but she knew it was done, several wets blows continuing afterwards.
Just like that, Theo was dead.
She waited for quite awhile, suddenly realizing she was trembling. The brutality of the fight had left her shaken, despite having no part in it. The idea that she could be in Theo's position any minute was enough to terrify her, but more than that, she found herself unable to sympathize with Theo. When she looked back and saw the mess of what was a living person just seconds earlier, she didn't see someone who wanted to go home just as much as she did, or someone with a family that was worried about them. What she saw was one less hurdle to jump on her path to winning.
That itself was scarier than anything she'd see on the island.
Thinking about that wasn't accomplishing anything though, she decided as she stood up, fighting back the trembling of her legs.
She had to be pro-active and there wouldn't be a better chance to approach Hansel. He was likely still in shock and his gun was still a couple feet away, so if he wanted to shoot her, he'd have to run to it and give her her own chance to run by doing so. She swallowed a large lump in her throat as she approach and tried to steady out her breathing. When she was just a couple feet away, she crouched down, similar to how you'd approach a child or a stray animal.
"I'm not here to hurt you," She said, her soft voice faltering slightly, "You okay? I told you that you could've used my help."
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NotAFlyingToy
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Footsteps drew Hansel's attention, brown eyes moving to stare at the sneakers as they approached him steadily, the cautious, quiet gait causing him to tense and turn stiffly towards the newcomer. As the words fell from her mouth, his gaze was caught in no man's land, unwilling to let the corpse out of his sight, unwilling to meet her eyes, trapped in the middle and staring at the plane that he'd been forcibly thrown onto.
Right near where his bag lay, there was a red smear on one of the jagged, rusted edges - where he'd felt the impact of being caught between a body and old aluminum.
As if seeing the blood on the rust awakened his nerves, a pang of pain registered below his left pectoral, one that urged him to lift his right index finger to probe, the skin coming up red with wet blood.
Another scar.
In response to Andi, he shrugged, a careless movement of his shoulders, before looking back at the wrench sticking out of Theo's skull. The shrug encompassed all three of her statements; a catch-all answer.
He lifted his right hand to rub his palm at his tired eyes, the still fresh blood smearing at his temple as his index grazed it. If Theo had been smarter - if he had been stronger, had a better weapon, had more time - he would've been seated here, and it would've been Hansel with the wrench embedded in his skull. Hansel had won by being stronger, and that wouldn't be the case every time.
Just when he thought he was making progress, someone had to lift his tires off the ground.
The gash caused him to hiss out through his teeth as he pressed his hand firmly over the wound, finally snapping his eyes to hers, determination and steel lacing through them.
"We aren't guh-honna be p-pals," he said, his tone carrying a warning.
Right near where his bag lay, there was a red smear on one of the jagged, rusted edges - where he'd felt the impact of being caught between a body and old aluminum.
As if seeing the blood on the rust awakened his nerves, a pang of pain registered below his left pectoral, one that urged him to lift his right index finger to probe, the skin coming up red with wet blood.
Another scar.
In response to Andi, he shrugged, a careless movement of his shoulders, before looking back at the wrench sticking out of Theo's skull. The shrug encompassed all three of her statements; a catch-all answer.
He lifted his right hand to rub his palm at his tired eyes, the still fresh blood smearing at his temple as his index grazed it. If Theo had been smarter - if he had been stronger, had a better weapon, had more time - he would've been seated here, and it would've been Hansel with the wrench embedded in his skull. Hansel had won by being stronger, and that wouldn't be the case every time.
Just when he thought he was making progress, someone had to lift his tires off the ground.
The gash caused him to hiss out through his teeth as he pressed his hand firmly over the wound, finally snapping his eyes to hers, determination and steel lacing through them.
"We aren't guh-honna be p-pals," he said, his tone carrying a warning.