(( Michael Crowe continued from Karma Chameleon ))
Michael stared at his bandaged hand as he walked away from the asylum. The pain had simmered down to a dull ache, and now all he could do was contemplate the fact that he was missing one of his digits.
It was kind of interesting in a weird way, he could still feel it. Not in the sense that the stump hurt, coz' it still did, it stung like a bitch if he accidentally touches something with it, but outside of that, it still felt like his pinky was still there. Like he could wiggle it, close it, all that shit that a normal pinky does. He could feel it still there, even if it wasn't there.
He placed his axe underneath his arm as he tried to see if he could touch his other hand with his ghost finger. He didn't really feel anything on either side. His pinky obviously went through his hand, but neither one could feel each other. He felt himself wiggle his ghost back and forth.
Man, this was so fuckin' weird...
He looked up and saw a chapel in front of him. Knowing how much of a dick Irony was, one of the big killers were hiding out here. He laid his axe upon his shoulder and walked towards it, imagining some dramatic fight with Holy Diver playing in the background. The Dio one, not the shitty Killswitch Engage one.
He stopped outside the doorway, and looked at his reflection through one of the stained glass windows. Shit he needs to fix his hair. His revenge conquest had to wait a moment, as he pulled his comb out and got to work.
...Better?
Better.
He overheard a commotion within the chapel, something about "speaking up or gee-tee-eff-oh'ing". If there were people in there, maybe they could also tell him the whereabouts of people on his shit list.
Well, that was his cue.
He pressed his foot against the door, and opened it with the laziest of kicks. After all, who needs arms with legs like these, right?
It was casual enough to not be over-dramatic, but dramatic enough to not be boring. It meant he could totally stomp the door open if he wanted to, but he didn't really feel like it. He treated it like kicking doors open was an everyday occurrence for him. He had made his appearance known, he had shown that he had no fucks to give, he had shown that...
Oh shit he fucked up.
Crybaby with a pickaxe to his right. Mall goth with a crossbow to his front. Two more people a little ways ahead of him.
No matter his position, he was right in the kill zone. He done goof'd. He could only stand there silently after announcing his big entrance, just staring at them staring at him.
There was two options now, back out slowly, live, but look like a bitch. Then there was stand your ground, still look like a bitch, but less of one, and probably die.
This wasn't a movie, the smart option was option one.
Michael stared blankly before speaking up.
"Fuck y'all lookin' at?"
...
...
He hadn't learned from the various other times he had picked option two.
Devil's Choir
Morning, Day 3
Dammit. Making Jae exert himself was literally the opposite of what Asha had wanted to do. She turned around, uncaring that she was exposing her back to Al, and grimaced slightly as she got a clearer look at her friend. She'd gotten a vague idea of it before, but standing up, outlined by the sunbeams that pierced the chapel's windows, Jae looked like a soldier who'd come home from the sort of war where the friendly neighborhood vultures were the only real winners. The crossbow only added to that effect. War had moved on from swords and arrows, but a bolt to the neck would still kill you just as easily today as it would have centuries ago, after all. Death was charmingly timeless.
Asha realized now that she was in sort of an inconvenient position from his point of view, but that suited her just fine. Partially because she didn't want this mysterious murderer getting shot on her behalf either, partially out of spite from Jae trying to order her around. Pettiness aside, she did know what she was doing; even if it hadn't technically worked yet. It was so much easier to have a friendly conversation if everyone wasn't huddled together, shooting suspicious glares at each other. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but erred on the side of not acting like a grade schooler.
If there's one thing she regretted about the situation, it was that she had stored her taser inside of Dot's bag that morning, after the announcements. With it, Asha would have been able to reassure Jae that she still had shit under control in a convenient, nonlethal way. After hearing about Danny, though, she hadn't been able to stomach holding onto a weapon, especially one that now reminded her so strongly of Isabel. She'd have to fish it back out once she had a spare moment.
In the meantime, she smiled and shrugged as Dot started to retreat back towards Jae; turning her full attention back to Al. She had to stop herself from replying 'Same, dude" after Al's sigh. It would have probably been the most sincere "same" ever said, to be honest; summing up the entire situation with a single prolonged exhale. Alas, it was also tonally inappropriate, and not in the way that Asha liked. It would have sounded too much like she was mocking him.
"Well, uh. We're still cool, at least! How about we talk about something else instead? Like, what's your favorite-" Before Asha could fully commit to her disarming inane chatter, someone kicked the chapel door open. Goddamn, it was starting to get a little crowded. New kid looked like he was more spooked than a spooker, at least.
"Either a huge nerd or some sorta action hero. Obvi."
Asha realized now that she was in sort of an inconvenient position from his point of view, but that suited her just fine. Partially because she didn't want this mysterious murderer getting shot on her behalf either, partially out of spite from Jae trying to order her around. Pettiness aside, she did know what she was doing; even if it hadn't technically worked yet. It was so much easier to have a friendly conversation if everyone wasn't huddled together, shooting suspicious glares at each other. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but erred on the side of not acting like a grade schooler.
If there's one thing she regretted about the situation, it was that she had stored her taser inside of Dot's bag that morning, after the announcements. With it, Asha would have been able to reassure Jae that she still had shit under control in a convenient, nonlethal way. After hearing about Danny, though, she hadn't been able to stomach holding onto a weapon, especially one that now reminded her so strongly of Isabel. She'd have to fish it back out once she had a spare moment.
In the meantime, she smiled and shrugged as Dot started to retreat back towards Jae; turning her full attention back to Al. She had to stop herself from replying 'Same, dude" after Al's sigh. It would have probably been the most sincere "same" ever said, to be honest; summing up the entire situation with a single prolonged exhale. Alas, it was also tonally inappropriate, and not in the way that Asha liked. It would have sounded too much like she was mocking him.
"Well, uh. We're still cool, at least! How about we talk about something else instead? Like, what's your favorite-" Before Asha could fully commit to her disarming inane chatter, someone kicked the chapel door open. Goddamn, it was starting to get a little crowded. New kid looked like he was more spooked than a spooker, at least.
"Either a huge nerd or some sorta action hero. Obvi."
Jae couldn't tell if his headache was more from a nicotine craving or lack of sleep and stress in general, but it was throbbing behind his left eye, creeping back over his temple and the back of his head to his neck. He gripped the crossbow as tightly as possible with both hands, hoping it hid how they were starting to shake.
Also? Fuck you right now, Asha. She obviously knew both what he was trying to do and what she was doing by defying him, he'd known her long enough to recognize that "come over here and make me" smile for exactly what it was. Her moral point wouldn't be worth much when Mr. Prospector started trying to dig her insides out. At least Dorothy knew what was good for her and had retreated behind him.
He almost pulled the trigger when the doors flew open again. Five minutes, all Jae wanted was five goddamn minutes to get his shit together without some fuckface barging in and making him wonder if they were going to try and kill him or his friends, if he was going to have to shoot them. Michael was half a centimeter and a few stretched-thin threads of self-control away from taking a crossbow bolt to the face before he even started in with his stupid quips.
"Fuck off, Michael." And shit, hadn't Brendan mentioned him too? Michael and Jeremiah, trying to kill a girl. Now he was swaggering in here like it was nothing, like his partner in crime hadn't even been shanked in the back by the least likely person imaginable. Jae took brief note of the bandage on Michael's hand and wondered if Brendan had been responsible for that too. It was... alright, maybe he'd be a tiny bit impressed if that was the case. Maybe.
Didn't change the fact that he was stuck here with the choice of focusing his attention on an attempted murderer and a probably-successful murderer, with Asha disregarding him in between. He had a clearer shot at Michael, but Prospector was closer to Asha and his eyes had that same sort of blankness that Jae had seen in Alvaro's.
Jae was dimly aware that his breathing was getting faster and shallower, and he could feel the threat of a cough tickling at the back of his throat. He'd never had a panic attack before - was this what the beginning of one felt like? He needed to breathe. He needed Asha to move to safety. He needed all of these unwanted people out of his fucking sight.
"Fuck off. Both of you get out, now." His finger twitched on the trigger.
Also? Fuck you right now, Asha. She obviously knew both what he was trying to do and what she was doing by defying him, he'd known her long enough to recognize that "come over here and make me" smile for exactly what it was. Her moral point wouldn't be worth much when Mr. Prospector started trying to dig her insides out. At least Dorothy knew what was good for her and had retreated behind him.
He almost pulled the trigger when the doors flew open again. Five minutes, all Jae wanted was five goddamn minutes to get his shit together without some fuckface barging in and making him wonder if they were going to try and kill him or his friends, if he was going to have to shoot them. Michael was half a centimeter and a few stretched-thin threads of self-control away from taking a crossbow bolt to the face before he even started in with his stupid quips.
"Fuck off, Michael." And shit, hadn't Brendan mentioned him too? Michael and Jeremiah, trying to kill a girl. Now he was swaggering in here like it was nothing, like his partner in crime hadn't even been shanked in the back by the least likely person imaginable. Jae took brief note of the bandage on Michael's hand and wondered if Brendan had been responsible for that too. It was... alright, maybe he'd be a tiny bit impressed if that was the case. Maybe.
Didn't change the fact that he was stuck here with the choice of focusing his attention on an attempted murderer and a probably-successful murderer, with Asha disregarding him in between. He had a clearer shot at Michael, but Prospector was closer to Asha and his eyes had that same sort of blankness that Jae had seen in Alvaro's.
Jae was dimly aware that his breathing was getting faster and shallower, and he could feel the threat of a cough tickling at the back of his throat. He'd never had a panic attack before - was this what the beginning of one felt like? He needed to breathe. He needed Asha to move to safety. He needed all of these unwanted people out of his fucking sight.
"Fuck off. Both of you get out, now." His finger twitched on the trigger.
"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."
Michael, bully, dangerous. Just walked into the room and made the things even more heated. Jae was aiming with his weapon at him. Al could be dead.
There was the door. There was the crossbow.
Al chose the door. Staying here with Jae was risky. He could be very dead if Jae shoots. Alessio had never felt more awake than now. Even when he killed Cameron he did not have as much of an adrenaline rush than now, when Jae was wielding his weapon, Michael suddenly joined and Dorothy shouted at him seconds before. He was not wanted.
So he sprinted out of the chapel, scared of Michael stopping him from leaving. But he managed to get out.
((Al continued in Smoke Screen))
There was the door. There was the crossbow.
Al chose the door. Staying here with Jae was risky. He could be very dead if Jae shoots. Alessio had never felt more awake than now. Even when he killed Cameron he did not have as much of an adrenaline rush than now, when Jae was wielding his weapon, Michael suddenly joined and Dorothy shouted at him seconds before. He was not wanted.
So he sprinted out of the chapel, scared of Michael stopping him from leaving. But he managed to get out.
((Al continued in Smoke Screen))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler RC. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Someone walked in.
Mr. Prospector walked out.
As simple as that, just a normal interaction. Nothing scary, nothing stressful, normal. It was normal. A very normal thing to happen. No-one was hurt, no-one was harmed, no-one was crying, no-one was dying. It was a miracle it ended like that. Everyone was back to their normal selves.
An innocent in, a killer out.
Then why did she felt her guts knot together when she saw him? Why did her body felt so sick at the sight of his face? Why did her hands start shaking? Why did she want to run away? She could, obviously. Just leave Asha and Jae behind, but that wasn't a very nice to do so she stayed.
Good inside, bad outside.
She thought about her diary sitting at home, hidden under a pile of clothes. She imagined taking a pen and doodling something like a fairy or a butterfly. Maybe even a mermaid, even though the last time she saw one, she had to wake up. Like wow, those things were half-fish, half-human, isn't that super, super weird? Maybe the mermaids thought about her too like how she had two legs and walked around. Okay maybe mermaids weren't so scary after all, but in some movies they lured men and drowned them.
Her mind wandered, but a small part of it was still aware. That tiny bit was happy to have the good ol' Dot back.
It painfully pinched Dorothy out of her waking dream.
Okay here, bad away.
Dot took a breath in, and sighed it out loudly. Calm down, the guy wasn't Mr. Prospector. He wasn't bloodied or not talking. Those two things reassured Dot. He was the contrary, at least she thought. He didn't appear bloody from her point-of-view and he spoke, which was an improvement from Al.
But Jae confirmed Dot's hidden fear: it was Michael. Brendan killed someone because of him.
Her friend didn't do anything wrong, it was Michael's fault. Not her friend's fault, none of friends killed anyone. They were good people, but Michael? He was a bad person. He totally was. He tried to murder a girl with that Jeremiah guy, but because of Brendan, the girl was spared and his partner in crime died.
However, she wasn't sure if Brendan was a reliable narrator in that story. She was more inclined into believing him than, well, the accused, Michael. He was the one that was to blame on the side of Brendan's story. If he were right, then Michael was as bad as Nancy, Kimiko and Iz but just lacking the kills to make him an actual known threat. She wanted him gone and those doors, shut.
A part of her felt bad for Michael though. Not because his friend died - okay, a little bit - but because he walked into this mess with Asha being either unaware of her actions, or being very aware of hers with a plan unfolding in her mind, and Jae with his crossbow ready to shoot anyone down.
She snuffed out the anger she was feeling under a pillow. She closed her eyes and she put a lock on her emotions. It wasn't time to lash out. Michael still had a chance to prove he wasn't a worthless piece of trash that deserved to be pierced with an arrow. She didn't speak, she kept her mouth shut. Her polite smile reappeared on her face as she stared down Michael from a distance.
Asha or Jae would deal with him. One would disarm him; the other would rob his life away.
It was up to Michael to decide.
Mr. Prospector walked out.
As simple as that, just a normal interaction. Nothing scary, nothing stressful, normal. It was normal. A very normal thing to happen. No-one was hurt, no-one was harmed, no-one was crying, no-one was dying. It was a miracle it ended like that. Everyone was back to their normal selves.
An innocent in, a killer out.
Then why did she felt her guts knot together when she saw him? Why did her body felt so sick at the sight of his face? Why did her hands start shaking? Why did she want to run away? She could, obviously. Just leave Asha and Jae behind, but that wasn't a very nice to do so she stayed.
Good inside, bad outside.
She thought about her diary sitting at home, hidden under a pile of clothes. She imagined taking a pen and doodling something like a fairy or a butterfly. Maybe even a mermaid, even though the last time she saw one, she had to wake up. Like wow, those things were half-fish, half-human, isn't that super, super weird? Maybe the mermaids thought about her too like how she had two legs and walked around. Okay maybe mermaids weren't so scary after all, but in some movies they lured men and drowned them.
Her mind wandered, but a small part of it was still aware. That tiny bit was happy to have the good ol' Dot back.
It painfully pinched Dorothy out of her waking dream.
Okay here, bad away.
Dot took a breath in, and sighed it out loudly. Calm down, the guy wasn't Mr. Prospector. He wasn't bloodied or not talking. Those two things reassured Dot. He was the contrary, at least she thought. He didn't appear bloody from her point-of-view and he spoke, which was an improvement from Al.
But Jae confirmed Dot's hidden fear: it was Michael. Brendan killed someone because of him.
Her friend didn't do anything wrong, it was Michael's fault. Not her friend's fault, none of friends killed anyone. They were good people, but Michael? He was a bad person. He totally was. He tried to murder a girl with that Jeremiah guy, but because of Brendan, the girl was spared and his partner in crime died.
However, she wasn't sure if Brendan was a reliable narrator in that story. She was more inclined into believing him than, well, the accused, Michael. He was the one that was to blame on the side of Brendan's story. If he were right, then Michael was as bad as Nancy, Kimiko and Iz but just lacking the kills to make him an actual known threat. She wanted him gone and those doors, shut.
A part of her felt bad for Michael though. Not because his friend died - okay, a little bit - but because he walked into this mess with Asha being either unaware of her actions, or being very aware of hers with a plan unfolding in her mind, and Jae with his crossbow ready to shoot anyone down.
She snuffed out the anger she was feeling under a pillow. She closed her eyes and she put a lock on her emotions. It wasn't time to lash out. Michael still had a chance to prove he wasn't a worthless piece of trash that deserved to be pierced with an arrow. She didn't speak, she kept her mouth shut. Her polite smile reappeared on her face as she stared down Michael from a distance.
Asha or Jae would deal with him. One would disarm him; the other would rob his life away.
It was up to Michael to decide.
Everyone was speechless for a good five seconds. Option two looked mighty tempting at this point...
Then Asha spoke up. She made a joke. It was...aaactually pretty funny. Michael cocked his head to the side, a light smirk forming on his face. He pressed his tongue through is teeth as he let out a small chuckle.
"Well, I don' know about 'hero' but, I ain't the for-"
And then Jojo McDodd from Horton Hears a Who told him to fuck off. Michael's grin disappeared as he put a single hand on his hip.
"Really? Can we not? L-l-like, can we fuckin' not?" He glanced over towards Alessio, who was already halfway out the door. Well, so much for that piss-baby. He took the time to scan the room behind his sunglasses, before pacing left and right. Looked inconspicuous enough, and a moving target was a harder target.
Min Jae told him to fuck off again. Man, you give a dude a crossbow, and suddenly his dick grew three sizes that day.
What was up with him and Dr. Seuss references? Well... Wasn't his fault they based the emo Who off of that poor bastard's face. Speaking of it, damn he looked fucked up, like someone kicked the shit out of him.
Didn't he appear on the announcements, beating someone else to death? That's not how you use a crossbow, if that even is your crossbow, friend...
Michael continued pacing. He felt like shit for this, but...
His pacing moved over towards the right a little bit. He had to get Asha between him and Jae. Not like, use her as a shield or nothing, just... collateral. Min wouldn't shoot one of his own right? Wait, did Min Jae even have friends? He had killed once already...
It wasn't fucked up for him to do this right? I mean, he wasn't holding her hostage, he was just... positioning himself. Yeah. Fuck, he hoped they didn't know what he was planning, he wasn't getting any closer to them or anything, all he was doing was making himself a harder target. That's it. If Min Jae shoots, it's on him. Min would be okay with having blood on his hands anyways if he's willing to shoot... Michael wouldn't feel bad at all about rushing him if it came to that. Those crossbows take time to reload, and if Min missed... Then again if he hit her, then Mike'd feel guilty for standing in that spot. But still, it wasn't like- man just open your mouth and speak, get the fucker to lower his arms!
"Woah, woah, woah... That's the thanks I get? Fuckin' hearin' screaming and shit, come in for the rescue, and you get all pissed off at me?" Michael pointed at his own chest for emphasis. Use your words, play the empathy card. Gotta get the fucker to lower the gun.
"Hell, I should get a 'thank you' for scaring 'Spooks Bloodyfuck' off. He probably woulda' put his pickaxe in one of your friends here if I didn't come. It's like fuck man, the only other sane person I know gets pig-sticked, and everyone else has gone off their fuckin' Adderall. Like shit dude, I had a real shitty day, I lost the only friend I made on this island, the ones from back home are getting killed by scum-sucking fuckers, my fuckin' pinkey gets lopped off, and I can't even get a place to sit down and get me a fucking refreshing drink of piss-warm bottled beverage."
Michael shook his head, pacing. His heart was jumping. He could feel his veins wanting to burst out his skin. His stomach felt like it was in one of those high-g force machines astronauts ride for training. Michael was scared as shit, and he was moving to desperate measures. He was disgusted in himself for the cowardice he was performing right now, using someone as a sort of blockade like that. He had to though. He could try to turn and leave, but at this point, Min Jae might shoot him in the back. Goddamnit, you can't do anything around here without digging yourself in a deeper hole.
"Is there anyone I can get a normal chat with? Like at all? Anyone willing to talk like a normal person for once?"
That was all he could hope for, getting them to talk. That's it, that's all he wanted. It wouldn't be so risky turning around then...
Then Asha spoke up. She made a joke. It was...aaactually pretty funny. Michael cocked his head to the side, a light smirk forming on his face. He pressed his tongue through is teeth as he let out a small chuckle.
"Well, I don' know about 'hero' but, I ain't the for-"
And then Jojo McDodd from Horton Hears a Who told him to fuck off. Michael's grin disappeared as he put a single hand on his hip.
"Really? Can we not? L-l-like, can we fuckin' not?" He glanced over towards Alessio, who was already halfway out the door. Well, so much for that piss-baby. He took the time to scan the room behind his sunglasses, before pacing left and right. Looked inconspicuous enough, and a moving target was a harder target.
Min Jae told him to fuck off again. Man, you give a dude a crossbow, and suddenly his dick grew three sizes that day.
What was up with him and Dr. Seuss references? Well... Wasn't his fault they based the emo Who off of that poor bastard's face. Speaking of it, damn he looked fucked up, like someone kicked the shit out of him.
Didn't he appear on the announcements, beating someone else to death? That's not how you use a crossbow, if that even is your crossbow, friend...
Michael continued pacing. He felt like shit for this, but...
His pacing moved over towards the right a little bit. He had to get Asha between him and Jae. Not like, use her as a shield or nothing, just... collateral. Min wouldn't shoot one of his own right? Wait, did Min Jae even have friends? He had killed once already...
It wasn't fucked up for him to do this right? I mean, he wasn't holding her hostage, he was just... positioning himself. Yeah. Fuck, he hoped they didn't know what he was planning, he wasn't getting any closer to them or anything, all he was doing was making himself a harder target. That's it. If Min Jae shoots, it's on him. Min would be okay with having blood on his hands anyways if he's willing to shoot... Michael wouldn't feel bad at all about rushing him if it came to that. Those crossbows take time to reload, and if Min missed... Then again if he hit her, then Mike'd feel guilty for standing in that spot. But still, it wasn't like- man just open your mouth and speak, get the fucker to lower his arms!
"Woah, woah, woah... That's the thanks I get? Fuckin' hearin' screaming and shit, come in for the rescue, and you get all pissed off at me?" Michael pointed at his own chest for emphasis. Use your words, play the empathy card. Gotta get the fucker to lower the gun.
"Hell, I should get a 'thank you' for scaring 'Spooks Bloodyfuck' off. He probably woulda' put his pickaxe in one of your friends here if I didn't come. It's like fuck man, the only other sane person I know gets pig-sticked, and everyone else has gone off their fuckin' Adderall. Like shit dude, I had a real shitty day, I lost the only friend I made on this island, the ones from back home are getting killed by scum-sucking fuckers, my fuckin' pinkey gets lopped off, and I can't even get a place to sit down and get me a fucking refreshing drink of piss-warm bottled beverage."
Michael shook his head, pacing. His heart was jumping. He could feel his veins wanting to burst out his skin. His stomach felt like it was in one of those high-g force machines astronauts ride for training. Michael was scared as shit, and he was moving to desperate measures. He was disgusted in himself for the cowardice he was performing right now, using someone as a sort of blockade like that. He had to though. He could try to turn and leave, but at this point, Min Jae might shoot him in the back. Goddamnit, you can't do anything around here without digging yourself in a deeper hole.
"Is there anyone I can get a normal chat with? Like at all? Anyone willing to talk like a normal person for once?"
That was all he could hope for, getting them to talk. That's it, that's all he wanted. It wouldn't be so risky turning around then...
Shit, Jae was sounding worse and worse each time he yelled, anger becoming tinged with a manic energy. He wasn't just pissed at Asha, he seemed legitimately scared, too. That hadn't been part of the plan. Unfortunately, it was too late to cut her losses and move back now, not without risking either of their new arrivals. She'd have to change her tactics a little; focus on dissolving instead of defusing.
Al bolted under this new round of shouting, but he hadn't seemed like he would have been very receptive, anyway; even with more time and less pressure. A Nancy, not a... hypothetical person who would have listened to Asha. She wished that she could have helped him, but at their current point he was definitely safer outside their oh-so-holy hall.
Michael was much less inclined to leave on his own; instead launching into a surprisingly passionate tirade. Asha found it funny that in his first sentence, he had already talked more than Al had during his entire stay. Aside from that? She wasn't a fan, honestly. She hadn't quite recognized him and connected the Dorothys at first, but once Jae had granted him a 'fuck off', she realized that he was one of the people Brendan had talked about, earlier.
His cavalier attitude in the face of attempted murder reminded her too much of Isabel, and his fairly obvious ploys for sympathy didn't help, either. Fuck, man, Jae was in plain sight; loath as she was to consider the pain olympics, losing your pinky was getting off easy compared to that. Asha's smile tightened a bit around the corners. That was unfair, of course. No one deserved to be compared to Isabel except literal serial killers; which in all honestly would probably just flatter her. (Oh, the monsters that walked their earth were so much less appealing that than real thing. Asha had always tried to stay clear of the tasteless movies that gifted them a bloody spotlight stolen from the trail of corpse they had left in their wake; or even the more 'legitimate' documentaries. Some things deserved to be forgotten.)
In any case, this was a rare time where she did not relish her obligatory friendliness in the least. Keeping Michael around was bad for Jae's mental health and Michael's mortality, so at least it'd be over with quickly.
"Dude, I'd love for us to sit down and talk, but... literally none of us have had a good day, and we kind of just need a chance to breath together? Just us? 'We didn't come here to make friends,'" Asha said portentously; launching into a brief imitation of every reality TV contestant. "It's nothing personal, seriously, but would you mind leaving us alone? The cliffy area north of that asylum is freaking gorgeous, by the way."
Al bolted under this new round of shouting, but he hadn't seemed like he would have been very receptive, anyway; even with more time and less pressure. A Nancy, not a... hypothetical person who would have listened to Asha. She wished that she could have helped him, but at their current point he was definitely safer outside their oh-so-holy hall.
Michael was much less inclined to leave on his own; instead launching into a surprisingly passionate tirade. Asha found it funny that in his first sentence, he had already talked more than Al had during his entire stay. Aside from that? She wasn't a fan, honestly. She hadn't quite recognized him and connected the Dorothys at first, but once Jae had granted him a 'fuck off', she realized that he was one of the people Brendan had talked about, earlier.
His cavalier attitude in the face of attempted murder reminded her too much of Isabel, and his fairly obvious ploys for sympathy didn't help, either. Fuck, man, Jae was in plain sight; loath as she was to consider the pain olympics, losing your pinky was getting off easy compared to that. Asha's smile tightened a bit around the corners. That was unfair, of course. No one deserved to be compared to Isabel except literal serial killers; which in all honestly would probably just flatter her. (Oh, the monsters that walked their earth were so much less appealing that than real thing. Asha had always tried to stay clear of the tasteless movies that gifted them a bloody spotlight stolen from the trail of corpse they had left in their wake; or even the more 'legitimate' documentaries. Some things deserved to be forgotten.)
In any case, this was a rare time where she did not relish her obligatory friendliness in the least. Keeping Michael around was bad for Jae's mental health and Michael's mortality, so at least it'd be over with quickly.
"Dude, I'd love for us to sit down and talk, but... literally none of us have had a good day, and we kind of just need a chance to breath together? Just us? 'We didn't come here to make friends,'" Asha said portentously; launching into a brief imitation of every reality TV contestant. "It's nothing personal, seriously, but would you mind leaving us alone? The cliffy area north of that asylum is freaking gorgeous, by the way."
Jae had never liked Michael. Fake accent, fake bravado, probably-fake loser friends who congregated around him and basked in the kind of power trip that you only got from making people like Brendan cry. Michael was the kind of bully that Jae knew people tried to lump him in with, and he despised them all the more for it. The Isabels and Michaels of the world weren't his people. They were hardly even the dirt under his boots.
This was what he had expected to see from Michael: the swaggering, blustering, filthy coward that he was, talking big to try and cover the fact that he was just another name on the long list of people that needed to be put in their place. Like he was so subtle, edging behind Asha for cover as the crossbow unsteadily followed him. Jae gritted his teeth, struggling to breathe in deeply. Michael was taller than Asha, but not by much. She had traded standing within pickaxe range to regular axe range, and he couldn't trust his aim enough to be sure that he wouldn't hit her if he took a shot.
And if there was anything Jae hated more than people like Michael overestimating their importance, it was their telling him to pity them.
"Boo-fucking-hoo," he ground out in response to Michael's tirade. "If you think I give a blistered, bleeding fuck about what kind of problems you've had, you haven't been paying attention for the last few years. You want to whine about how hard you've had it, running around trying to kill people with your buddies? Quit hiding behind Asha and come tell me to my face why I should feel sorry for you, you phony greaser piece of shit."
Was Michael even telling the truth? Who knew? On some level, Jae must have decided that he trusted Brendan's account of things more than whatever bullshit Michael would undoubtedly come up with. So. On the hierarchy of "Who Does Jae Most Want to Destroy Today", Brendan was in a slightly sweeter spot than Michael. He should tell Brendan he ought to feel honored, assuming that they both lived long enough to see each other again.
"The way I see it-" he had to pause, swallow thickly, remember to breathe, "The way I see it, Jeremiah deserved what happened to him, and if you so much as look at her wrong, you will too."
His hands were shaking noticeably now, and the crossbow along with them. He was starting to feel a little lightheaded. He kept his gaze on Michael as firmly as he could, eyes dark and challenging.
This was what he had expected to see from Michael: the swaggering, blustering, filthy coward that he was, talking big to try and cover the fact that he was just another name on the long list of people that needed to be put in their place. Like he was so subtle, edging behind Asha for cover as the crossbow unsteadily followed him. Jae gritted his teeth, struggling to breathe in deeply. Michael was taller than Asha, but not by much. She had traded standing within pickaxe range to regular axe range, and he couldn't trust his aim enough to be sure that he wouldn't hit her if he took a shot.
And if there was anything Jae hated more than people like Michael overestimating their importance, it was their telling him to pity them.
"Boo-fucking-hoo," he ground out in response to Michael's tirade. "If you think I give a blistered, bleeding fuck about what kind of problems you've had, you haven't been paying attention for the last few years. You want to whine about how hard you've had it, running around trying to kill people with your buddies? Quit hiding behind Asha and come tell me to my face why I should feel sorry for you, you phony greaser piece of shit."
Was Michael even telling the truth? Who knew? On some level, Jae must have decided that he trusted Brendan's account of things more than whatever bullshit Michael would undoubtedly come up with. So. On the hierarchy of "Who Does Jae Most Want to Destroy Today", Brendan was in a slightly sweeter spot than Michael. He should tell Brendan he ought to feel honored, assuming that they both lived long enough to see each other again.
"The way I see it-" he had to pause, swallow thickly, remember to breathe, "The way I see it, Jeremiah deserved what happened to him, and if you so much as look at her wrong, you will too."
His hands were shaking noticeably now, and the crossbow along with them. He was starting to feel a little lightheaded. He kept his gaze on Michael as firmly as he could, eyes dark and challenging.
"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."
Oh no.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Michael was inching ever so closely to Asha. At first, Dot thought nothing of it. Then she thought about the logical option being killing Asha. She looked over her shoulder, Jae with his crossbow and Asha blocking the shot.
Was he really going to use Asha as a meat shield?
Her breathing started to speed up, her chest raising and lowering rapidly. Dorothy could let that happen. Friends don't let other friends get killed. They don't do that. They protect each other. Dorothy wouldn't let Asha died.
She backed away slowly, moving diagonally to get the advantage. Did he even notice her? She was confused, but it was obvious he had to pay attention to bigger thing than the girl who shut her mouth up. It would have been another story if she were the one in between them, but she wasn't.
She didn't know what to do so she did the first thing that went through her mind.
She faked a gasp, the one she should have done when she saw Iz. She stumbled backward, pointing right behind Michael. Her bag fell, just to be more realistic, and she was about to cry crocodile tears when she started to hysterically yell,
"Oh my God, Iz is back," she realized Michael wouldn't know about that nickname of hers so she continued, "Isabel is back to kill us!"
She hoped Asha would understand to run.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Michael was inching ever so closely to Asha. At first, Dot thought nothing of it. Then she thought about the logical option being killing Asha. She looked over her shoulder, Jae with his crossbow and Asha blocking the shot.
Was he really going to use Asha as a meat shield?
Her breathing started to speed up, her chest raising and lowering rapidly. Dorothy could let that happen. Friends don't let other friends get killed. They don't do that. They protect each other. Dorothy wouldn't let Asha died.
She backed away slowly, moving diagonally to get the advantage. Did he even notice her? She was confused, but it was obvious he had to pay attention to bigger thing than the girl who shut her mouth up. It would have been another story if she were the one in between them, but she wasn't.
She didn't know what to do so she did the first thing that went through her mind.
She faked a gasp, the one she should have done when she saw Iz. She stumbled backward, pointing right behind Michael. Her bag fell, just to be more realistic, and she was about to cry crocodile tears when she started to hysterically yell,
"Oh my God, Iz is back," she realized Michael wouldn't know about that nickname of hers so she continued, "Isabel is back to kill us!"
She hoped Asha would understand to run.
This... Wasn't working. Really, shit these people were ice cold! Wouldn't even let a man get a drink! Well, fuck 'em. Ungrateful motherfuckers, he only went in because they were screaming about Al. Al's a punk, dude, like shit, they were afraid of that?!
Michael continued to pace, this time placing his axe over his shoulder, shrugging at Asha's comments.
"Well... you got me, shit. Least I got you guys talking outside of a few words and shit. I'll go, but you tell that attack dog over there to put his shit away first, I trust the fucker as fast as I can fuck him, and I sure ain't gettin' in his pants any time soon..."
And talk he got. Especially from Jae. Michael could bend that fucker in two. Hell, if he talked to him like that in any other scenario he would. He'd hit him in the kidneys till he pissed blood, he'd kick him in the stomach until he caught IBS or Crohn's or some shit. He'd fuck him up.
"Man, shut the fuck up you hypocrite! You're only talking all that shit coz' you stole that crossbow from a dead kid. Damn sure wasn't self defense from what I see neither, no arrows in you. You ain't even got the balls to look me in the eyes back in Kingman, always staring at the floor when I walk by. Now, you're suddenly some badass motherfucker?!"
Then he mentioned Jerry. That motherfucker mentioned Jerry. Even worse, he knew, that meant he was with Brendan. Brendan was here. They way he talked shit about Jerry though... Michael didn't like none of these people. Fuckin' hardasses, even worse, they think they're in the right. Just gonna sit and wait to win. He wondered how long before Min Jae would take before shooting them both in the back...
Actually.
Wait...
Hold up.
Michael had a plan. Playing the sympathy card for himself did not work. However, the trust card was different. How much could Min Jae's friends trust him.
"Yeah, you're right. Jerry deserved to die right? Totally, I mean, all he wanted was to avenge Scarlett, and when we find the bitch that did her in, she's putting a damn corkscrew or some shit in another kid's eye. Yeah, he deserved to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when some petty fuck wanted to get back at me for saying mean words at him, I ain't even touch the little bitch!"
Michael grinned, flicking his tongue through his teeth as he twirled his axe and pointed it at Jae.
"I deserve to die too, for avenging him. But y'know..."
He pointed to Thing One and Two in front of him.
"If I kill them, then that'd make me innocent by your logic, right? Nancy's innocent. You're innocent too! Tota-fuckin'-ly."
He laughed.
"Hey I'll make you a deal! Three choices!"
He pointed again at Jae.
"Door number one, you put your money where your mouth is, and you come down here to me, show me what you did to Sammy, eh? Only one of us has to die..."
He spun his axe again, mocking some circus ring leader.
"Door number two! You shoot me! Easiest option right, ain't even got to look me in the eyes when you kill me! But... You best not miss, or you better hope I don't get back up..."
He pointed towards Asha and the other girl. His grin disappeared, he wasn't fucking around.
"I'll kill them both, then kill you. Brendan and Nancy only lived because they ran away. Door's behind me. You do the math."
He continued pacing, not speaking for dramatic effect.
He intentionally relaxed his posture for door number three.
"Or door number three, you put that shit away, I walk out, and nobody's gotta go six feet under. How much you give a shit about your buddies there Jae? How much you trust your eyes, you fast enough? Smart enough? You really wanna risk it? I'm not like pussy pickaxe. When I lose a game, I don't lose gracefully, I flip the fuckin' table. That's how I roll man!"
To be honest, he was scared as shit, but desperate calls and desperate measures are a thing after all. These people weren't the good guys anyways. Following under some murderer like that, like he's got the moral high ground. Fuck him. Michael was certain he'd kill Min Jae later, but right now, he had to play it cool. He continued pacing, making himself a harder target, his movements more erratic. If Min Jae fires, it meant he didn't give a rats ass about his two compatriots, and they'd realize it. Michael preferred not to be the doomed moral victor, because y'know, he'd still be dead. But given the chance to screw over the guy who wants him dead, he'd gladly take the chance. Crabs in a Bucket.
His eyes darted between the three people in front of him, hidden by his shades. Asha, other girl, Jae, other girl, Jae, Asha, door, Jae, Asha, other girl, door, Asha, Jae, other girl looked spooked. It never occurred to him that someone might be behind him.
"Shit I even tried to be nice at first to you ungrateful f-"
Who the fuck is Iz?
Oh.
Oh shit...
Michael continued to pace, this time placing his axe over his shoulder, shrugging at Asha's comments.
"Well... you got me, shit. Least I got you guys talking outside of a few words and shit. I'll go, but you tell that attack dog over there to put his shit away first, I trust the fucker as fast as I can fuck him, and I sure ain't gettin' in his pants any time soon..."
And talk he got. Especially from Jae. Michael could bend that fucker in two. Hell, if he talked to him like that in any other scenario he would. He'd hit him in the kidneys till he pissed blood, he'd kick him in the stomach until he caught IBS or Crohn's or some shit. He'd fuck him up.
"Man, shut the fuck up you hypocrite! You're only talking all that shit coz' you stole that crossbow from a dead kid. Damn sure wasn't self defense from what I see neither, no arrows in you. You ain't even got the balls to look me in the eyes back in Kingman, always staring at the floor when I walk by. Now, you're suddenly some badass motherfucker?!"
Then he mentioned Jerry. That motherfucker mentioned Jerry. Even worse, he knew, that meant he was with Brendan. Brendan was here. They way he talked shit about Jerry though... Michael didn't like none of these people. Fuckin' hardasses, even worse, they think they're in the right. Just gonna sit and wait to win. He wondered how long before Min Jae would take before shooting them both in the back...
Actually.
Wait...
Hold up.
Michael had a plan. Playing the sympathy card for himself did not work. However, the trust card was different. How much could Min Jae's friends trust him.
"Yeah, you're right. Jerry deserved to die right? Totally, I mean, all he wanted was to avenge Scarlett, and when we find the bitch that did her in, she's putting a damn corkscrew or some shit in another kid's eye. Yeah, he deserved to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when some petty fuck wanted to get back at me for saying mean words at him, I ain't even touch the little bitch!"
Michael grinned, flicking his tongue through his teeth as he twirled his axe and pointed it at Jae.
"I deserve to die too, for avenging him. But y'know..."
He pointed to Thing One and Two in front of him.
"If I kill them, then that'd make me innocent by your logic, right? Nancy's innocent. You're innocent too! Tota-fuckin'-ly."
He laughed.
"Hey I'll make you a deal! Three choices!"
He pointed again at Jae.
"Door number one, you put your money where your mouth is, and you come down here to me, show me what you did to Sammy, eh? Only one of us has to die..."
He spun his axe again, mocking some circus ring leader.
"Door number two! You shoot me! Easiest option right, ain't even got to look me in the eyes when you kill me! But... You best not miss, or you better hope I don't get back up..."
He pointed towards Asha and the other girl. His grin disappeared, he wasn't fucking around.
"I'll kill them both, then kill you. Brendan and Nancy only lived because they ran away. Door's behind me. You do the math."
He continued pacing, not speaking for dramatic effect.
He intentionally relaxed his posture for door number three.
"Or door number three, you put that shit away, I walk out, and nobody's gotta go six feet under. How much you give a shit about your buddies there Jae? How much you trust your eyes, you fast enough? Smart enough? You really wanna risk it? I'm not like pussy pickaxe. When I lose a game, I don't lose gracefully, I flip the fuckin' table. That's how I roll man!"
To be honest, he was scared as shit, but desperate calls and desperate measures are a thing after all. These people weren't the good guys anyways. Following under some murderer like that, like he's got the moral high ground. Fuck him. Michael was certain he'd kill Min Jae later, but right now, he had to play it cool. He continued pacing, making himself a harder target, his movements more erratic. If Min Jae fires, it meant he didn't give a rats ass about his two compatriots, and they'd realize it. Michael preferred not to be the doomed moral victor, because y'know, he'd still be dead. But given the chance to screw over the guy who wants him dead, he'd gladly take the chance. Crabs in a Bucket.
His eyes darted between the three people in front of him, hidden by his shades. Asha, other girl, Jae, other girl, Jae, Asha, door, Jae, Asha, other girl, door, Asha, Jae, other girl looked spooked. It never occurred to him that someone might be behind him.
"Shit I even tried to be nice at first to you ungrateful f-"
Who the fuck is Iz?
Oh.
Oh shit...
It was around the time that Michael decided to threaten Dot's life that Asha decided he wasn't worth protecting any longer. Sure, Jae wasn't blameless, and everything would have gone down a hell of a lot smoother if he'd just kept his mouth shut for twenty goddamn seconds and let Michael leave; but even from their brief time together Asha could feel that the dude probably deserved every word of abuse that was slung his way. Like, what the hell was he even on about, 'wasn't self defense?' Had he even looked at Jae?
Also, it would have been kind of hypocritical to get mad at him for trying hide behind her, considering that Asha had been actively using herself as a shield this entire time; but it still felt nice that it offended Jae on her behalf.
So while Michael posed and postured and twirled his axe like a drunken ringmaster, out after the bars had closed, still expecting his audience of tired passerby to be very impressed by his flash and lack of substance; Asha inched away towards Dot, putting her in a prime position to rush towards her side when she fell, screaming about Isabel.
"I'll keep you safe," Asha murmured, quickly kneeling down beside her. "Just gotta..." she quickly opened Dot's bag; finding her stashed taser after only a moment of groping. It wasn't hard, considering how empty the bag was, now. Asha's stomach churned for a moment as she grasped the weapon, but she fought the sensation back. There'd be time to work through her emotional shit after everyone was safe.
She lightly hopped back to her feet. Isabel was nowhere to be seen, and devil knew that she wasn't the type to make a humble entrance. Michael, however was all out of sorts; frozen in place like he expected the ballet reaper to be creeping up right behind him, cold breath on his neck, talons reaching to pierce his neck. Good job, Dot. Yet another reason she deserved a hug later.
Time to get to work again. All smiles.
"Hey, Mike? A word of advice," Asha called out, casually pointing her taser at him, waving it a little bit to make sure he couldn't miss it. "If you absolutely have to threaten my life, I'd prefer that you address me while you do it. Why, it almost seems like you don't care about me. That hurts!" She pouted, mock offense quickly giving way to another grin. Oh, how she hated to have her life held hostage to harm one of her friends, treating her as nothing more than a mediocre chess piece.
"Now, let me put it this way. You get two choices," she said, sending his own shitty dichotomy flying right back at him. "One: you leave, peacefully; we stay put, peacefully; and everyone's happy! Two: you do something stupid, like trying to hurt us. I zap you with this taser and pry that pretty little axe from your twitching fingers," she said, savoring those last words, letting them hang in the air, thick with implication.
"And then I'll hold oh-so-tightly onto it and throw it into a corner where it won't hurt anyone. You stand up, feeling shitty. You leave without your toy. Lucky you, either way there's no need for my good friend to shoot you!" She finished loudly, hoping Jae would get the message to behave for once.
Also, it would have been kind of hypocritical to get mad at him for trying hide behind her, considering that Asha had been actively using herself as a shield this entire time; but it still felt nice that it offended Jae on her behalf.
So while Michael posed and postured and twirled his axe like a drunken ringmaster, out after the bars had closed, still expecting his audience of tired passerby to be very impressed by his flash and lack of substance; Asha inched away towards Dot, putting her in a prime position to rush towards her side when she fell, screaming about Isabel.
"I'll keep you safe," Asha murmured, quickly kneeling down beside her. "Just gotta..." she quickly opened Dot's bag; finding her stashed taser after only a moment of groping. It wasn't hard, considering how empty the bag was, now. Asha's stomach churned for a moment as she grasped the weapon, but she fought the sensation back. There'd be time to work through her emotional shit after everyone was safe.
She lightly hopped back to her feet. Isabel was nowhere to be seen, and devil knew that she wasn't the type to make a humble entrance. Michael, however was all out of sorts; frozen in place like he expected the ballet reaper to be creeping up right behind him, cold breath on his neck, talons reaching to pierce his neck. Good job, Dot. Yet another reason she deserved a hug later.
Time to get to work again. All smiles.
"Hey, Mike? A word of advice," Asha called out, casually pointing her taser at him, waving it a little bit to make sure he couldn't miss it. "If you absolutely have to threaten my life, I'd prefer that you address me while you do it. Why, it almost seems like you don't care about me. That hurts!" She pouted, mock offense quickly giving way to another grin. Oh, how she hated to have her life held hostage to harm one of her friends, treating her as nothing more than a mediocre chess piece.
"Now, let me put it this way. You get two choices," she said, sending his own shitty dichotomy flying right back at him. "One: you leave, peacefully; we stay put, peacefully; and everyone's happy! Two: you do something stupid, like trying to hurt us. I zap you with this taser and pry that pretty little axe from your twitching fingers," she said, savoring those last words, letting them hang in the air, thick with implication.
"And then I'll hold oh-so-tightly onto it and throw it into a corner where it won't hurt anyone. You stand up, feeling shitty. You leave without your toy. Lucky you, either way there's no need for my good friend to shoot you!" She finished loudly, hoping Jae would get the message to behave for once.
It was an odd thing, realizing in the span of a few seconds how deeply and coldly you could hate someone.
There were five, maybe a good ten seconds of silence after Asha returned Michael's ultimatum with her own. To Jae's racing thoughts, they lasted an eternity.
He wasn't angry anymore. He'd passed far beyond that the second Michael went so far as to threaten Asha for the sake of taking a cheap shot at Jae.
Murder was an emotion.
There was static in the edges of his vision, from his overtired brain or his too-shallow breathing, or the firm, simple certainty that he could put a bolt right between Michael's eyes right now and he wouldn't regret it. He flinched instinctively at Dorothy's scream, but really, he was barely aware of it.
Isabel? Fine, he'd kill her too. He'd kill anyone else who set foot in here, because anyone who thought they could waltz in and tell him what to do, threaten him, threaten the people he cared about, try to rip away the last little bit of control he had over anything after Alvaro and Hazel and Samuel deserved it.
Michael deserved it.
That icy calm that had enveloped him in his first waking moments in the asylum was back. Jae was an outside observer to his own body, aware of his shaking hands and his inadequate breathing, the cough threatening to distract him, the hammering of his heart and the roaring of blood in his ears.
"Listen to her."
His own voice sounded far away, utterly different from his yelling moments before, flat and alien.
The static threatened to overtake him, but he kept his eyes on Michael's face, some part of him wanting to memorize every line and angle and color of this moment. He wanted to see Michael scared. He wanted to remember it.
"Listen to her, or I'll kill you."
There were five, maybe a good ten seconds of silence after Asha returned Michael's ultimatum with her own. To Jae's racing thoughts, they lasted an eternity.
He wasn't angry anymore. He'd passed far beyond that the second Michael went so far as to threaten Asha for the sake of taking a cheap shot at Jae.
Murder was an emotion.
There was static in the edges of his vision, from his overtired brain or his too-shallow breathing, or the firm, simple certainty that he could put a bolt right between Michael's eyes right now and he wouldn't regret it. He flinched instinctively at Dorothy's scream, but really, he was barely aware of it.
Isabel? Fine, he'd kill her too. He'd kill anyone else who set foot in here, because anyone who thought they could waltz in and tell him what to do, threaten him, threaten the people he cared about, try to rip away the last little bit of control he had over anything after Alvaro and Hazel and Samuel deserved it.
Michael deserved it.
That icy calm that had enveloped him in his first waking moments in the asylum was back. Jae was an outside observer to his own body, aware of his shaking hands and his inadequate breathing, the cough threatening to distract him, the hammering of his heart and the roaring of blood in his ears.
"Listen to her."
His own voice sounded far away, utterly different from his yelling moments before, flat and alien.
The static threatened to overtake him, but he kept his eyes on Michael's face, some part of him wanting to memorize every line and angle and color of this moment. He wanted to see Michael scared. He wanted to remember it.
"Listen to her, or I'll kill you."
"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."
Dorothy was proud.
Her plan worked out: Asha was out of the way and took her taser back, Michael was in range of Min-jae's crossbow and Dot was ready to do whatever to help out.
She wish she had the time to whisper to Asha things like "I'll protect you too" before she left back for the action. She was already back at it with her tazer and aiming it at Michael. She truly was a badass. First, she used what Michael said against him and second, she didn't even stutter when she spoke! If it was Dot in that situation, she would have stuttered so much that any threats she was saying would pass a joke.
However, something inside of her felt wrong. It's not that she felt unhappy but rather felt like the situation could be ending with someone dead very soon (which would in theory make her sad). Life was a precious gift and Dorothy didn't like it when it was thrown out of the window. The whole concept of killing each other until one remained was exactly that: dumping a hundred lives to save the last.
Apparently, Michael and Jerry had their reason to hunt down said girl who happened to be Nancy "Ugly, Obnoxious Blue Hair" Kyle and that didn't make her feel any better. It felt wrong, so wrong, but if Michael had to get shot, then so be it. However, she'd rather not have the situation degenerate to that point even it was heading toward it ever since Mr. Prospector was here.
She did her job, she had nothing to feel bad about. Her duty was done, her goal was succeeded and her friends were alright. She didn't have to say something else, she could have just shut her mouth up and stay still like a statue. Her friends were what mattered, not the reasons some random she knew it like 3 minutes.
"I second that. Or is it third that at that point? I don't know but what she said!"
Her plan worked out: Asha was out of the way and took her taser back, Michael was in range of Min-jae's crossbow and Dot was ready to do whatever to help out.
She wish she had the time to whisper to Asha things like "I'll protect you too" before she left back for the action. She was already back at it with her tazer and aiming it at Michael. She truly was a badass. First, she used what Michael said against him and second, she didn't even stutter when she spoke! If it was Dot in that situation, she would have stuttered so much that any threats she was saying would pass a joke.
However, something inside of her felt wrong. It's not that she felt unhappy but rather felt like the situation could be ending with someone dead very soon (which would in theory make her sad). Life was a precious gift and Dorothy didn't like it when it was thrown out of the window. The whole concept of killing each other until one remained was exactly that: dumping a hundred lives to save the last.
Apparently, Michael and Jerry had their reason to hunt down said girl who happened to be Nancy "Ugly, Obnoxious Blue Hair" Kyle and that didn't make her feel any better. It felt wrong, so wrong, but if Michael had to get shot, then so be it. However, she'd rather not have the situation degenerate to that point even it was heading toward it ever since Mr. Prospector was here.
She did her job, she had nothing to feel bad about. Her duty was done, her goal was succeeded and her friends were alright. She didn't have to say something else, she could have just shut her mouth up and stay still like a statue. Her friends were what mattered, not the reasons some random she knew it like 3 minutes.
"I second that. Or is it third that at that point? I don't know but what she said!"
Michael slowly craned his neck behind him. Isabel's the one who left that body by Alex and his Droog isn't she? He barely caught a glimpse of it as he laid there, the pain in his hand wouldn't let him focus. But he saw enough. The face of it alone would have been enough to make him nauseous, had he not had other things to focus on. He prepared to turn and swing on her, and use the confusion to fuck off.
When he turned around, however, he realized she wasn't there. The 'omg look behind you' trick. Easiest fucking trick in the world...
Clever Girl...
He turned back around to realize Asha had moved to the little screaming raptor's side. Jae had the clearest of shots he'd need. Well shit... This day keeps getting worse and worse. What exactly had he done to deserve this shit, he couldn't even find anyone who wasn't some stick up the ass holier than thou, psychopathic killer, or sneaky ass coward. He hoped Jon was doing okay... Maybe he got the luck?
Here they were, turning his phrases against him, like he feared some taser. Really? He had his own, and he was sure his felt worse after testing it on himself. Yeah... Right. You hit me and I'll simply hurt, I hit you...
He looked at his axe. If it weren't instantaneous, they'd bleed out in pain later on anyways. That gave him some confidence, if he had to flip the table when he started losing.
Jae wasn't saying shit. Figured that meant he was as good as dead. Staring right at him. That was the first time he'd looked him in the eyes since he got here. Michael stared right back, twisting his face into a grimace Jae wouldn't forget.
Choose option two motherfucker, I dare you... Remember, I won't go quietly if I ain't dead by the first shot...
His breath rattled as Jae finally spoke. It was time to leave.
It clicked. He won.
Min Jae knew exactly what would follow if he shot. The threats worked. Here they were, all cuddled next to each other. Michael's crocodile tears didn't work, so gave his crocodile grin instead. Here min Jae was, talking all that shit just five seconds earlier. Now he could barely utter two sentences. Michael's theory was right. All Min Jae amounted to was a chihuahua pretending to be a pit bull. He'll bark at you through the fence, but once he's outside of it?
His smile came back. He twirled his axe again, and placed it on his shoulders, casually bending his knees before straightening them.
"Alright, I'll fold. Got more chips on my table anyways..."
He turned and walked to the door, his eyes locked on Min Jae's. His shit eating grin wouldn't falter now. He opened the door.
"Got all I need from you guys anyways... Thanks for letting me know Brendan's close." He took his sunglasses off, just so Min Jae would see his eyes directly.
"Maybe I'll throw his body through one of these windows the next time I visit. Maybe you guys can fit him in one of the caskets here, eh?"
He slammed the door behind him, his laugh audible behind it.
He realized they couldn't see him anymore at this point. A sigh of relief escaped him as he slid down the door.
Holy shit, he almost died there! Wouldn't that have been a bitch?! He was alive! He was aaaaliiiiive! Hahaaa! Eat shit you fuckers!
He got back up, laughing like a hyena as he walked away.
Even as he laughed however, he couldn't help but look behind him every few paces...
(( Michael Crowe continued elsewhere))
When he turned around, however, he realized she wasn't there. The 'omg look behind you' trick. Easiest fucking trick in the world...
Clever Girl...
He turned back around to realize Asha had moved to the little screaming raptor's side. Jae had the clearest of shots he'd need. Well shit... This day keeps getting worse and worse. What exactly had he done to deserve this shit, he couldn't even find anyone who wasn't some stick up the ass holier than thou, psychopathic killer, or sneaky ass coward. He hoped Jon was doing okay... Maybe he got the luck?
Here they were, turning his phrases against him, like he feared some taser. Really? He had his own, and he was sure his felt worse after testing it on himself. Yeah... Right. You hit me and I'll simply hurt, I hit you...
He looked at his axe. If it weren't instantaneous, they'd bleed out in pain later on anyways. That gave him some confidence, if he had to flip the table when he started losing.
Jae wasn't saying shit. Figured that meant he was as good as dead. Staring right at him. That was the first time he'd looked him in the eyes since he got here. Michael stared right back, twisting his face into a grimace Jae wouldn't forget.
Choose option two motherfucker, I dare you... Remember, I won't go quietly if I ain't dead by the first shot...
His breath rattled as Jae finally spoke. It was time to leave.
It clicked. He won.
Min Jae knew exactly what would follow if he shot. The threats worked. Here they were, all cuddled next to each other. Michael's crocodile tears didn't work, so gave his crocodile grin instead. Here min Jae was, talking all that shit just five seconds earlier. Now he could barely utter two sentences. Michael's theory was right. All Min Jae amounted to was a chihuahua pretending to be a pit bull. He'll bark at you through the fence, but once he's outside of it?
His smile came back. He twirled his axe again, and placed it on his shoulders, casually bending his knees before straightening them.
"Alright, I'll fold. Got more chips on my table anyways..."
He turned and walked to the door, his eyes locked on Min Jae's. His shit eating grin wouldn't falter now. He opened the door.
"Got all I need from you guys anyways... Thanks for letting me know Brendan's close." He took his sunglasses off, just so Min Jae would see his eyes directly.
"Maybe I'll throw his body through one of these windows the next time I visit. Maybe you guys can fit him in one of the caskets here, eh?"
He slammed the door behind him, his laugh audible behind it.
He realized they couldn't see him anymore at this point. A sigh of relief escaped him as he slid down the door.
Holy shit, he almost died there! Wouldn't that have been a bitch?! He was alive! He was aaaaliiiiive! Hahaaa! Eat shit you fuckers!
He got back up, laughing like a hyena as he walked away.
Even as he laughed however, he couldn't help but look behind him every few paces...
(( Michael Crowe continued elsewhere))
So they ended, their pleasant little confrontations; three-against-one repeated threefold. Asha hated to pick sides, but she loved the side that she had picked. All in all, it could have ended it a lot worse. Nobody got hurt, and everyone would live with that. She stood vigil by the door for a few moments more after Michael blustered one last time and slammed the door shut behind him, making sure he didn't change his mind; or that Iz had gotten the memo that the chapel was a happening place to be after all.
After about a minute, she called it good. Exhaled. Walked over to Dot, casually dropped the taser back in her bag. Said "Good work, Dot," as she hugged her tightly; making sure she held on long enough so they both got a healthy dose of happy endorphins and forget about all the people who had just almost died.
Then she made her way over to Jae, seating herself back on the edge of one of the pews. "So. Good morning!" She said brightly, flashing an apologetic smile. Not for her actions, but for the worry she had caused him. "I'd hug you, too, but I don't wanna hurt you. So just, like, lemme know if you're good for hugging? You look like you need one." They finally had enough peace and quiet to reflect on the terrible things that had happened to them all. Not fun, but acceptance was an important part of grieving.
After about a minute, she called it good. Exhaled. Walked over to Dot, casually dropped the taser back in her bag. Said "Good work, Dot," as she hugged her tightly; making sure she held on long enough so they both got a healthy dose of happy endorphins and forget about all the people who had just almost died.
Then she made her way over to Jae, seating herself back on the edge of one of the pews. "So. Good morning!" She said brightly, flashing an apologetic smile. Not for her actions, but for the worry she had caused him. "I'd hug you, too, but I don't wanna hurt you. So just, like, lemme know if you're good for hugging? You look like you need one." They finally had enough peace and quiet to reflect on the terrible things that had happened to them all. Not fun, but acceptance was an important part of grieving.