((Dolores Upton continued from "...we must try until it kills us."))
It wasn't the kind of day made for wandering around out of doors. Especially not dressed as Dolly was, especially not having to pick one's way through the debris blown off of houses and trees and avoid mud puddles that threatened to steal a shoe if you stepped in too deeply. It might have been altogether a better idea to abandon the plan to search for supplies until the rain let up. The caged animal inside of her whose pacing was maddened by the walls of the house versus the forces of nature.
Dolly had resorted to holding her duffel bag over her head in an attempt to stay somewhat dry. It only worked a little bit, and its effectiveness was lessened further by trying to balance the folded spear that Marceline had handed her in exchange for her knife. Marceline had given a bouncing, rambling explanation for her rationale behind the trade, but it boiled down to the fact that Marceline felt she could fight in close quarters, while Dolly was better served by range. Dolly hadn't had it in her to argue; she didn't exactly plan on getting into any fights on this excursion if she could help it.
Barring certain circumstances, anyway.
They made their way darting from house to house in what shelter was offered by the walls and the overhanging parts of the roofs. One thing to be said from the rain was that it slowed down their progress enough to prevent any comments on how Dolly's limp had gotten worse. One of the blisters that had formed had burst; she could feel the skin rubbing raw against the fabric of her tights. As if they weren't going to be terribly stained already.
"It's kind of exciting isn't it?" She asked abruptly, breathless, when they paused again.
Darkness, Beloved
Private
Darkness, Beloved
"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."
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VoltTurtle
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((Marceline Carlson continued from "...we must try until it kills us."))
The wilderness around the west housing block was not unlike the area around the east housing block. The primary difference was that there was way less debris scattered around, making walking around much easier. The primary similarity was that both were getting rained on heavily.
Marceline slowly twirled Dolly's rain-soaked knife in her hand, appreciating the craftsmanship that had gone into it as the two of them walked together on their supply run. Even though Dolly had not actually said what supplies they were supposedly looking for, she was happy to be alone with her anyway. Dolly had probably been getting stir-crazy in the house, so alleviating that was a goal in and of itself.
The rain probably made it a little bit less pleasant than getting outside would otherwise be to Dolly, however. Marceline herself wasn't really bothered, she hated being sweaty, but the rain was okay in her eyes. Her thoroughly soaked hair and clothing was clinging tightly to her body, but at least she wasn't uncomfortably hot like she had been the last few days.
She still wasn't sure how she was going to tell Dolly about everything that had been on her mind, and about everything that she had been keeping under wraps up to this point in their relationship. Marceline didn't want to risk Dolly having a negative reaction, but these upcoming days would definitely be her last chance to let Dolly know just how much she means to her. She deserved to know, before then.
Marceline's thoughts were interrupted by the sweet sound of Dolly's voice, and she wasted no time turning her attention to her girlfriend and responding, her own voice betraying her curiosity as to what Dolly meant. "What's exciting?"
It was then that Marceline noticed Dolly's worsening limp, and immediately moved to help support her weight. "There there," she said, her voice taking on a soft, comforting tone. "I got you."
The wilderness around the west housing block was not unlike the area around the east housing block. The primary difference was that there was way less debris scattered around, making walking around much easier. The primary similarity was that both were getting rained on heavily.
Marceline slowly twirled Dolly's rain-soaked knife in her hand, appreciating the craftsmanship that had gone into it as the two of them walked together on their supply run. Even though Dolly had not actually said what supplies they were supposedly looking for, she was happy to be alone with her anyway. Dolly had probably been getting stir-crazy in the house, so alleviating that was a goal in and of itself.
The rain probably made it a little bit less pleasant than getting outside would otherwise be to Dolly, however. Marceline herself wasn't really bothered, she hated being sweaty, but the rain was okay in her eyes. Her thoroughly soaked hair and clothing was clinging tightly to her body, but at least she wasn't uncomfortably hot like she had been the last few days.
She still wasn't sure how she was going to tell Dolly about everything that had been on her mind, and about everything that she had been keeping under wraps up to this point in their relationship. Marceline didn't want to risk Dolly having a negative reaction, but these upcoming days would definitely be her last chance to let Dolly know just how much she means to her. She deserved to know, before then.
Marceline's thoughts were interrupted by the sweet sound of Dolly's voice, and she wasted no time turning her attention to her girlfriend and responding, her own voice betraying her curiosity as to what Dolly meant. "What's exciting?"
It was then that Marceline noticed Dolly's worsening limp, and immediately moved to help support her weight. "There there," she said, her voice taking on a soft, comforting tone. "I got you."
“I always wanted to disappear mysteriously.”
She knew that what she was saying wasn’t rational. In normal circumstances it would have been odd; in the current ones, it was probably worrying. She’d had the thought more than once since waking up, though.
Dolly leaned on Marceline when given the opportunity. Much as she tried to conceal it, it was now obvious that she was favoring her right foot.
“It’s alright. My fault for not bringing better shoes.” She had a change of clothes in her bag, stowed away in case the bus ride got too uncomfortable. She’d never bothered changing because she had drifted off to sleep, content with a good meal beforehand and Marceline’s arm looped in hers. She hadn’t stayed awake after the bus change either, for obvious reasons. At any rate, she had clothes but no spare shoes, and the clothes she had been saving for when her current outfit got too unbearable to keep wearing. Given the rain, that time might be approaching sooner than she’d thought.
Dolly took advantage of their proximity to press her lips against Marceline’s temple. She smelled more or less like wet dog, not that Dolly was going to tell her as much. They were both pretty waterlogged at this point.
“It might be a good idea for me to find a place to change while you keep looking around for anything useful. I was hoping for medical supplies, and there’s supposed to be an infirmary around somewhere, but I don’t know what it looks like.”
She knew that what she was saying wasn’t rational. In normal circumstances it would have been odd; in the current ones, it was probably worrying. She’d had the thought more than once since waking up, though.
Dolly leaned on Marceline when given the opportunity. Much as she tried to conceal it, it was now obvious that she was favoring her right foot.
“It’s alright. My fault for not bringing better shoes.” She had a change of clothes in her bag, stowed away in case the bus ride got too uncomfortable. She’d never bothered changing because she had drifted off to sleep, content with a good meal beforehand and Marceline’s arm looped in hers. She hadn’t stayed awake after the bus change either, for obvious reasons. At any rate, she had clothes but no spare shoes, and the clothes she had been saving for when her current outfit got too unbearable to keep wearing. Given the rain, that time might be approaching sooner than she’d thought.
Dolly took advantage of their proximity to press her lips against Marceline’s temple. She smelled more or less like wet dog, not that Dolly was going to tell her as much. They were both pretty waterlogged at this point.
“It might be a good idea for me to find a place to change while you keep looking around for anything useful. I was hoping for medical supplies, and there’s supposed to be an infirmary around somewhere, but I don’t know what it looks like.”
"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."
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VoltTurtle
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"Ahaha, it's not like I haven't seen you naked before, you know," Marceline responded, giving Dolly a wink and a mischievous smile in the process.
"Also," she continued, her head turning as she looked around the area they were traveling through, seeing nothing but bleak houses, damp wilderness, and the usual barrenness that seemed to characterize this whole island. "I'm not really sure I'd be able to find anything anyway. It doesn't really seem like there's much here."
In reality, Marceline's main priority was that she didn't want to leave Dolly out of sight, just in case something were to happen. And while Dolly's affection was deeply comforting to her, she could feel her anxiety building in response to Dolly's answer to her question.
Dolly didn't want to want to die, did she?
"Hey, um, also," she began again, her voice wavering and unsure, "what did you mean by wanting to disappear mysteriously?"
"Also," she continued, her head turning as she looked around the area they were traveling through, seeing nothing but bleak houses, damp wilderness, and the usual barrenness that seemed to characterize this whole island. "I'm not really sure I'd be able to find anything anyway. It doesn't really seem like there's much here."
In reality, Marceline's main priority was that she didn't want to leave Dolly out of sight, just in case something were to happen. And while Dolly's affection was deeply comforting to her, she could feel her anxiety building in response to Dolly's answer to her question.
Dolly didn't want to want to die, did she?
"Hey, um, also," she began again, her voice wavering and unsure, "what did you mean by wanting to disappear mysteriously?"
“I mean that… if something terrible were to happen, I’d want it to be a mystery. No gory details. No crime scene photos or anything like that for people like me to pick over afterwards. I would just want them to wonder.”
Dolly slid her hand down Marceline’s arm to link their fingers together. She felt the slightly raised texture of fabric around Marceline’s forearm, and her brow furrowed, then smoothed again.
When was it the right time to ask questions? When could you risk upsetting someone, pushing them too far?
Not now.
“What I really mean is that I wish nobody could see us like this. The best thing I can do is find something about it that isn’t so bad.” She squeezed Marceline’s hand.
If you never came to a conclusion, then really, the story never ended.
Dolly slid her hand down Marceline’s arm to link their fingers together. She felt the slightly raised texture of fabric around Marceline’s forearm, and her brow furrowed, then smoothed again.
When was it the right time to ask questions? When could you risk upsetting someone, pushing them too far?
Not now.
“What I really mean is that I wish nobody could see us like this. The best thing I can do is find something about it that isn’t so bad.” She squeezed Marceline’s hand.
If you never came to a conclusion, then really, the story never ended.
"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."
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VoltTurtle
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- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
"Yeah, it'd be nice to get some time to ourselves."
Marceline stayed silent for a little while after responding.
Her anxiety was building to a fever pitch, and her hand that wasn't being held by her girlfriend was beginning to tremble ever so slightly. She didn't want to imagine something terrible happening to Dolly. She couldn't imagine something terrible happening to Dolly.
"But," she began again, her voice quivering, "I really don't want anything bad to happen to you, ever. I don't want to let it happen. Because..."
If there was ever a time for her to tell Dolly about everything she's been holding back, now would be the time. But she didn't know how Dolly would react to it. Would she screw up? Would she ruin everything she had going for her like she used to years ago?
She took a deep breath, tremors in her hand growing more noticeable. She had to do it. Dolly had to know. She had to know everything.
"Because..." Her voice broke a little as she spoke, before she quickly regained her composure. "There's… something I've been meaning to tell you, for a while."
She stopped in her tracks, and Dolly followed suit. She took another deep breath. She had never told anyone about any of this before. She never wanted anyone to worry about her, to waste their energy on her. She had kept everything locked up so tightly, but it was time for her to finally set it free, to the only person she trusted completely.
"So, you probably figured out at some point that I struggle more than I let on," she continued, her voice quiet, losing all of the bounciness that it normally carried. "That, despite my happy facade, I'm not actually all that happy. Or at least I wasn't really, in the past."
She took another breath, steadying herself, and doing her best to suppress the worry in her heart. The worry that this would be too much for Dolly. The worry that this was just going to hurt the both of them.
"Years ago, before I met you, I felt… all twisted up inside. I don't really know what came first, either the sadness or emptiness, but one definitely caused the other."
She gently squeezed Dolly's hand, letting her head begin to rest on her shoulder.
"I saw my life as being… nothing. Just a pointless waste of time and energy. I hated who I was, I hated how I looked, I hated everything about me. I stopped enjoying everything I previously loved. They just became… distractions, from how I felt all the time."
She began to stare at the muddy ground beneath them, unable to make eye contact as she spoke.
"I was so tired all the time. I slept all the time, because it was the only relief I got from the sadness. I had to muster all the energy available to me just to get out of bed. I slept through all my classes, and I tried to avoid any obligations I could."
Her throat began to tighten, the stress of revealing all of this beginning to overwhelm her. Secrets of her internal world that she had kept away from everyone, for years. It terrified her to finally let go, and come clean about it all.
"I blamed myself for my feelings. I thought I deserved to feel so bad all the time, because of all the mistakes I had made up to that point. All the people I had hurt, usually on accident. No matter what went wrong, everything was my fault. I thought I was worth less than nothing."
Her throat tightened further, her voice growing weak and beginning to break. This was a lot to unload on someone, all at once. It wasn't something that she thought most people would be able to handle. But Dolly was different. She had always been different.
"I tried to hide it whenever I was out. I didn't want anyone to know, because I was afraid that people might worry about me, or give me attention I thought I didn't deserve. I thought that I was a burden on the people around me, and that if I told anyone, I would just be whining about stuff that everyone secretly dealt with and making their lives harder for no reason."
The rain hid it, but tears began to well up in her eyes, her stress finally hitting a fever-pitch, her voice wavering as her muscles clenched.
"I… all I wanted was to die. I wanted all these feelings to stop, I wanted to quit being miserable all the time, but I felt trapped. I had been getting more and more ready each day, to finally grab one of my dad's guns and end it all. I even had a day that I planned on doing it."
She choked on her words, taking another breath and squeezing Dolly's hand again to calm her nerves just enough to keep speaking.
"But, then…"
She swallowed, her stress beginning to calm and her voice growing steadier, if only by a little bit.
"Then I met you, and suddenly everything changed," she murmured, as she finally let the weight of her head be fully supported by her girlfriend. "When I was with you, I felt happy. I felt like I didn't need to hate myself when I was near you, that I could just let me be me and not worry."
Her muscles loosened ever so slightly, and her movements grew steadier.
"And, when we got together," she said, her throat finally beginning to relax, "when we got together, suddenly I felt okay. I didn't need to hate myself, I didn't need to hate my body, I didn't need to worry if I was a burden. I had someone I loved, who loved me back, who always made me feel okay just by being who she was. You became all the meaning I ever needed."
She nuzzled her head against Dolly, her stress finally fading. She felt better, letting all of this out. Letting the only person she felt she could truly trust know her innermost thoughts and insecurities. "You… untwisted me, as stupid as that sounds. You made me feel right in the world, without even knowing."
"And," she continued, her voice breaking ever so slightly once again. "I don't want to go back to that time before. That time that I didn't have you there, with me. I love you so much that it hurts. I can't imagine something bad ever happening to you, ever letting something bad happen to you."
"Someone as wonderful as you are doesn't deserve all of this," she said, weakly gesturing to their surroundings. "So that's why… I want to keep you safe. I want to make sure that you're the one who gets out of here."
She paused, knowing that Dolly wouldn't like what she was about to say, but she knew she had to say the obvious conclusion to what she had just proposed out loud. "Even… even if it means that I have to die for you."
She sighed, unsure of whether telling Dolly all of that had actually been worth it. "I-I know that's a lot to take in, and it's probably coming out of nowhere to you, but… I felt like you deserved to know what I was thinking, and about everything you meant to me."
Marceline stayed silent for a little while after responding.
Her anxiety was building to a fever pitch, and her hand that wasn't being held by her girlfriend was beginning to tremble ever so slightly. She didn't want to imagine something terrible happening to Dolly. She couldn't imagine something terrible happening to Dolly.
"But," she began again, her voice quivering, "I really don't want anything bad to happen to you, ever. I don't want to let it happen. Because..."
If there was ever a time for her to tell Dolly about everything she's been holding back, now would be the time. But she didn't know how Dolly would react to it. Would she screw up? Would she ruin everything she had going for her like she used to years ago?
She took a deep breath, tremors in her hand growing more noticeable. She had to do it. Dolly had to know. She had to know everything.
"Because..." Her voice broke a little as she spoke, before she quickly regained her composure. "There's… something I've been meaning to tell you, for a while."
She stopped in her tracks, and Dolly followed suit. She took another deep breath. She had never told anyone about any of this before. She never wanted anyone to worry about her, to waste their energy on her. She had kept everything locked up so tightly, but it was time for her to finally set it free, to the only person she trusted completely.
"So, you probably figured out at some point that I struggle more than I let on," she continued, her voice quiet, losing all of the bounciness that it normally carried. "That, despite my happy facade, I'm not actually all that happy. Or at least I wasn't really, in the past."
She took another breath, steadying herself, and doing her best to suppress the worry in her heart. The worry that this would be too much for Dolly. The worry that this was just going to hurt the both of them.
"Years ago, before I met you, I felt… all twisted up inside. I don't really know what came first, either the sadness or emptiness, but one definitely caused the other."
She gently squeezed Dolly's hand, letting her head begin to rest on her shoulder.
"I saw my life as being… nothing. Just a pointless waste of time and energy. I hated who I was, I hated how I looked, I hated everything about me. I stopped enjoying everything I previously loved. They just became… distractions, from how I felt all the time."
She began to stare at the muddy ground beneath them, unable to make eye contact as she spoke.
"I was so tired all the time. I slept all the time, because it was the only relief I got from the sadness. I had to muster all the energy available to me just to get out of bed. I slept through all my classes, and I tried to avoid any obligations I could."
Her throat began to tighten, the stress of revealing all of this beginning to overwhelm her. Secrets of her internal world that she had kept away from everyone, for years. It terrified her to finally let go, and come clean about it all.
"I blamed myself for my feelings. I thought I deserved to feel so bad all the time, because of all the mistakes I had made up to that point. All the people I had hurt, usually on accident. No matter what went wrong, everything was my fault. I thought I was worth less than nothing."
Her throat tightened further, her voice growing weak and beginning to break. This was a lot to unload on someone, all at once. It wasn't something that she thought most people would be able to handle. But Dolly was different. She had always been different.
"I tried to hide it whenever I was out. I didn't want anyone to know, because I was afraid that people might worry about me, or give me attention I thought I didn't deserve. I thought that I was a burden on the people around me, and that if I told anyone, I would just be whining about stuff that everyone secretly dealt with and making their lives harder for no reason."
The rain hid it, but tears began to well up in her eyes, her stress finally hitting a fever-pitch, her voice wavering as her muscles clenched.
"I… all I wanted was to die. I wanted all these feelings to stop, I wanted to quit being miserable all the time, but I felt trapped. I had been getting more and more ready each day, to finally grab one of my dad's guns and end it all. I even had a day that I planned on doing it."
She choked on her words, taking another breath and squeezing Dolly's hand again to calm her nerves just enough to keep speaking.
"But, then…"
She swallowed, her stress beginning to calm and her voice growing steadier, if only by a little bit.
"Then I met you, and suddenly everything changed," she murmured, as she finally let the weight of her head be fully supported by her girlfriend. "When I was with you, I felt happy. I felt like I didn't need to hate myself when I was near you, that I could just let me be me and not worry."
Her muscles loosened ever so slightly, and her movements grew steadier.
"And, when we got together," she said, her throat finally beginning to relax, "when we got together, suddenly I felt okay. I didn't need to hate myself, I didn't need to hate my body, I didn't need to worry if I was a burden. I had someone I loved, who loved me back, who always made me feel okay just by being who she was. You became all the meaning I ever needed."
She nuzzled her head against Dolly, her stress finally fading. She felt better, letting all of this out. Letting the only person she felt she could truly trust know her innermost thoughts and insecurities. "You… untwisted me, as stupid as that sounds. You made me feel right in the world, without even knowing."
"And," she continued, her voice breaking ever so slightly once again. "I don't want to go back to that time before. That time that I didn't have you there, with me. I love you so much that it hurts. I can't imagine something bad ever happening to you, ever letting something bad happen to you."
"Someone as wonderful as you are doesn't deserve all of this," she said, weakly gesturing to their surroundings. "So that's why… I want to keep you safe. I want to make sure that you're the one who gets out of here."
She paused, knowing that Dolly wouldn't like what she was about to say, but she knew she had to say the obvious conclusion to what she had just proposed out loud. "Even… even if it means that I have to die for you."
She sighed, unsure of whether telling Dolly all of that had actually been worth it. "I-I know that's a lot to take in, and it's probably coming out of nowhere to you, but… I felt like you deserved to know what I was thinking, and about everything you meant to me."
Dolly listened. She’d always been good at listening.
She’d always enjoyed the sound of Marceline’s voice, no matter what the subject was.
Even if it cut her to the core.
Dolly didn’t want to die. She’d never wanted that. It wasn’t a feeling she could empathize with. She had accepted that it was an inevitability, and since her dream-waking in the cave behind the waterfall, she had worked towards accepting that it was a sooner inevitability than she had thought. She still didn’t want it. It frightened her.
She had never believed enough to be secure in the thought that any of them were going to a different place after this, good or bad.
All fears had to be faced eventually, though.
Dolly listened, and when Marceline was done speaking, Dolly let go of her hand and instead reached up to cradle her face.
“You’re not allowed to die for me,” she said, gently but decisively.
“Nobody is allowed to die for me, understand? Not you. Not any of our friends. Not anyone at home.”
The void in her chest yawned wide, and cold tongues of hurt and fear licked at the inside of her ribcage.
“If anything happens to me, you have to live.”
It was selfish. Displacing the blame onto someone else. She was just taking the weight of everyone’s eventual end off of her own shoulders and putting it on them. Acting like she could control what happened after.
“I love you,” she said, and it sounded like the few times she had ever honestly prayed.
“I’m so glad I helped you, and I’m sorry that I never knew how much you were hurting before. You’ve made me happy too.”
Empty words. Useless platitudes. True, heartfelt, meaningless.
“So I can’t let you just throw your life away for my sake if you have a chance, understand?”
If. If.
No matter what happened, she died. Body or soul, take your pick. She could pretend, and she could accept, and she could work to ensure that there would be as little unfinished business as possible. When all of that was done, all Dolly could do was hope that Marceline - and Violet, Artem, and everyone else on either side of the camera - listened to what she was saying.
She’d always enjoyed the sound of Marceline’s voice, no matter what the subject was.
Even if it cut her to the core.
Dolly didn’t want to die. She’d never wanted that. It wasn’t a feeling she could empathize with. She had accepted that it was an inevitability, and since her dream-waking in the cave behind the waterfall, she had worked towards accepting that it was a sooner inevitability than she had thought. She still didn’t want it. It frightened her.
She had never believed enough to be secure in the thought that any of them were going to a different place after this, good or bad.
All fears had to be faced eventually, though.
Dolly listened, and when Marceline was done speaking, Dolly let go of her hand and instead reached up to cradle her face.
“You’re not allowed to die for me,” she said, gently but decisively.
“Nobody is allowed to die for me, understand? Not you. Not any of our friends. Not anyone at home.”
The void in her chest yawned wide, and cold tongues of hurt and fear licked at the inside of her ribcage.
“If anything happens to me, you have to live.”
It was selfish. Displacing the blame onto someone else. She was just taking the weight of everyone’s eventual end off of her own shoulders and putting it on them. Acting like she could control what happened after.
“I love you,” she said, and it sounded like the few times she had ever honestly prayed.
“I’m so glad I helped you, and I’m sorry that I never knew how much you were hurting before. You’ve made me happy too.”
Empty words. Useless platitudes. True, heartfelt, meaningless.
“So I can’t let you just throw your life away for my sake if you have a chance, understand?”
If. If.
No matter what happened, she died. Body or soul, take your pick. She could pretend, and she could accept, and she could work to ensure that there would be as little unfinished business as possible. When all of that was done, all Dolly could do was hope that Marceline - and Violet, Artem, and everyone else on either side of the camera - listened to what she was saying.
"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."
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
Marceline frowned ever so slightly as her face was held, her somber feelings exposed by her expression.
She wasn't happy to hear that response. She knew that Dolly wouldn't want her to sacrifice herself for her, but from the sound of it, it was more than that. She seemed to want Marceline to outlive her.
Still, despite that, it wasn't just about how Marceline felt. Dolly's feelings mattered too, and if she didn't want Marceline to die, then she would do her best to stay alive. Dolly knew what she was saying, and she likely knew what was best. The least Marceline could do, after everything Dolly has done for her, was to take heed to what she said.
"Alright," she responded, solemnly. "If anything happens, I'll do my best to keep myself safe."
Those words hurt to say, but she knew that it was for the best. If Dolly didn't want her martyrdom, then she had no right to throw her life away for Dolly's sake. Intead, she would keep them both safe, as long as she could.
And if the time came that she would need to let go…
She couldn't finish the thought.
Wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, Marceline pulled her into a firm hug, resting her head on Dolly as they held each other close. The warmth between them was a lovely respite from the rain, and she felt safe, like they could just stay there forever and not worry about anything.
Still, nothing actually lasts forever, and she let go after enough time, leaving one hand clutching her girlfriend's shoulder.
"Thank you for being you," she finished, giving Dolly's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
She wasn't happy to hear that response. She knew that Dolly wouldn't want her to sacrifice herself for her, but from the sound of it, it was more than that. She seemed to want Marceline to outlive her.
Still, despite that, it wasn't just about how Marceline felt. Dolly's feelings mattered too, and if she didn't want Marceline to die, then she would do her best to stay alive. Dolly knew what she was saying, and she likely knew what was best. The least Marceline could do, after everything Dolly has done for her, was to take heed to what she said.
"Alright," she responded, solemnly. "If anything happens, I'll do my best to keep myself safe."
Those words hurt to say, but she knew that it was for the best. If Dolly didn't want her martyrdom, then she had no right to throw her life away for Dolly's sake. Intead, she would keep them both safe, as long as she could.
And if the time came that she would need to let go…
She couldn't finish the thought.
Wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, Marceline pulled her into a firm hug, resting her head on Dolly as they held each other close. The warmth between them was a lovely respite from the rain, and she felt safe, like they could just stay there forever and not worry about anything.
Still, nothing actually lasts forever, and she let go after enough time, leaving one hand clutching her girlfriend's shoulder.
"Thank you for being you," she finished, giving Dolly's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Marceline wrapped her in warmth and sincerity. Dolly did her best to return it.
But the truth was, it was only a matter of time before either Dolly's monster or her desperation to resist it broke loose and sent her fleeing screaming through the wilderness.
She'd thought about it all night, while she had barely slept, while the dog paced around and around and around and around and she refused to step out and face it. If she saw Lorenzo, Tyrell, what would she do? At least one of them was beyond reason, and she couldn't even be sure which one.
She couldn't say that she would be reasonable. All her intent to remain steadfast in the face of things, and they kicked down the walls of her defenses with no effort at all.
Her helpless anger wasn't a flame that she could consistently tend to. It would just leave her colder when it was gone. When she was gone.
The longer she stood here, the more Dolly desperately wanted to be alone with her fury and grief so that it didn't seep out and taint Marceline.
She smiled when Marceline squeezed her shoulder, laying her hand over Marceline's for a moment. "And same to you," she said. "You do make my day brighter, you know that?"
A rush of wind blew more of the rain in on them, and she sighed.
"...I really am going to need to change. It's okay if you go on ahead. I'll be safe, and I'll catch up in a minute."
She needed more than a minute just for the practical things. It remained to be seen if she could cram in a breakdown as well.
But the truth was, it was only a matter of time before either Dolly's monster or her desperation to resist it broke loose and sent her fleeing screaming through the wilderness.
She'd thought about it all night, while she had barely slept, while the dog paced around and around and around and around and she refused to step out and face it. If she saw Lorenzo, Tyrell, what would she do? At least one of them was beyond reason, and she couldn't even be sure which one.
She couldn't say that she would be reasonable. All her intent to remain steadfast in the face of things, and they kicked down the walls of her defenses with no effort at all.
Her helpless anger wasn't a flame that she could consistently tend to. It would just leave her colder when it was gone. When she was gone.
The longer she stood here, the more Dolly desperately wanted to be alone with her fury and grief so that it didn't seep out and taint Marceline.
She smiled when Marceline squeezed her shoulder, laying her hand over Marceline's for a moment. "And same to you," she said. "You do make my day brighter, you know that?"
A rush of wind blew more of the rain in on them, and she sighed.
"...I really am going to need to change. It's okay if you go on ahead. I'll be safe, and I'll catch up in a minute."
She needed more than a minute just for the practical things. It remained to be seen if she could cram in a breakdown as well.
"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."
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VoltTurtle
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Marceline gently let go of Dolly's shoulders and gave her a bright smile.
"Alright!" She exclaimed, the bounciness in her voice returning. "If anything happens, just holler, and I'll be over as fast as I can."
She was still worried. Letting Dolly out of her sight wasn't something that she had wanted to do at any point, but it was obvious to her that Dolly needed some space—for whatever reason—and it was for the best for Dolly to get that space, for however long she needed it. Dolly had earned her complete trust a long time ago, and she knew that Dolly would stay safe. It was okay for Marceline to let her go.
No matter how much it made her worry.
"I'll stay around here and look for anything useful." She said, gesturing to the houses closest to them. "Once you're done, I'll be here."
"Alright!" She exclaimed, the bounciness in her voice returning. "If anything happens, just holler, and I'll be over as fast as I can."
She was still worried. Letting Dolly out of her sight wasn't something that she had wanted to do at any point, but it was obvious to her that Dolly needed some space—for whatever reason—and it was for the best for Dolly to get that space, for however long she needed it. Dolly had earned her complete trust a long time ago, and she knew that Dolly would stay safe. It was okay for Marceline to let her go.
No matter how much it made her worry.
"I'll stay around here and look for anything useful." She said, gesturing to the houses closest to them. "Once you're done, I'll be here."
Dolly's smile stayed in place, soft and genuine. "Alright. Don't worry."
She took a step backwards, and then another, before she finally turned her back on Marceline and approached the house they had passed a few minutes before. She held her breath until she heard Marceline's footsteps lead away in the opposite and eventually vanish under the noise of rainfall.
The entrance of the home - a home? - yawned darkly.
Premonition.
Or maybe intuition? That danger sense that people had, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, the prickling up and down your spine. As soon as Dolly set foot over the threshold, she felt it.
She had always frozen in fear when her mind turned against her. Things scrabbling at the walls, weaving in and out of the corners of her vision. Don't look at it. If you can't see it, you can't be sure that it sees you. If you don't acknowledge it, it can't hurt you.
She took one step into the grey shade of the house's interior, and then another. To the bedroom. Thoughts on the surface of sitting and resting a while, seeing how bad her foot actually looked and bandaging it up if need be. Peeling off her wet tights, the water-heavy skirt of her dress. Letting her hair down again, maybe tying it back up in a ponytail or bun to be more manageable.
An inky black lake surface which reflected no moon or starlight. Nude, she stepped into it, and her passing sent ripples across before it settled again, smooth and impenetrable as polished obsidian.
And one of her very own monster friends waited in the bedroom. And she would never be able to sit back and explain why she did what she did, when she knew better.
"Blaise?"
She took a step backwards, and then another, before she finally turned her back on Marceline and approached the house they had passed a few minutes before. She held her breath until she heard Marceline's footsteps lead away in the opposite and eventually vanish under the noise of rainfall.
The entrance of the home - a home? - yawned darkly.
Premonition.
Or maybe intuition? That danger sense that people had, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, the prickling up and down your spine. As soon as Dolly set foot over the threshold, she felt it.
She had always frozen in fear when her mind turned against her. Things scrabbling at the walls, weaving in and out of the corners of her vision. Don't look at it. If you can't see it, you can't be sure that it sees you. If you don't acknowledge it, it can't hurt you.
She took one step into the grey shade of the house's interior, and then another. To the bedroom. Thoughts on the surface of sitting and resting a while, seeing how bad her foot actually looked and bandaging it up if need be. Peeling off her wet tights, the water-heavy skirt of her dress. Letting her hair down again, maybe tying it back up in a ponytail or bun to be more manageable.
An inky black lake surface which reflected no moon or starlight. Nude, she stepped into it, and her passing sent ripples across before it settled again, smooth and impenetrable as polished obsidian.
And one of her very own monster friends waited in the bedroom. And she would never be able to sit back and explain why she did what she did, when she knew better.
"Blaise?"
"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."
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Emprexx Plush
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((Blaise D'aramitz continued from Woody Harrelson wearing a red wig in the Stinger of Venom saying “There’s Going To Be Carnage”))
It was a simple proposition. There were many houses in the deserted neighborhood and no signs that anyone had been near the one they had chosen recently. The odds that any person would explore where they were hidden were already low, and when you stacked on the caveat that their observer knew them well enough to recognize them at a glance they skyrocketed. Even with others seeking shelter from the storm they would likely be comfortable until they finished reapplying Carl. If anyone burst in on them afterwards they would relish the opportunity to demonstrate their composure. Yesterday was an anomalous footnote not worth considering. Worst case scenario neither witness to their outburst had sense to put two and two together. The plan was secure. Their name had not appeared in this morning's record and neither had any they cared to dwell on. Mm, not exactly true. Violet's ability to land an intended shot surprised them enough to doubt it was real. An accident drawing down attention the unstable wretch would surely shatter under was not so awful a turn. They would not be surprised to hear her name on the other side of the equation by morning.
Such musings were entertaining but wasteful. In fairness they also distracted them from the discomforting amount of stubble that had formed on their scalp; they could not remember the last evening or morning that had not included shaving their head smooth. Two days departed from their routine left them itchy. Physically, yes, but in a more intangible way. There were few things in life that Blaise practiced with consistency. Given less urgency they might muse on what else they were losing already, but there was work at hand. They could only count on so much privacy and they still needed to finish their eyebrows, put in their contacts, touch up their cheeks perhaps. Passable, but it needed perfecting. They could not afford to be sloppy.
"Blaise?"
Fuck.
Blaise did not need to look up to know who had found them. Dolly was an unmistakable presence, one that should not be in this room. She knew. Blaise knew from her tone that she knew she was making a mistake. It was not a gambit on her part, Dolly was often out of step with the games they played. It was possible they had spent all this time in orbit of each other without her ever learning a thing of social subterfuge.
Carl smiled sheepishly. Cleared his throat proper like and kept his eyes down, wouldn't do to look on a lady in uh, exposure. Mighty embarrassin' for both of them. "S-sorry ma'am, 'fraid you've got me confused. Just ol' Carl back here."
If Dolly had never heard this voice before she'd heard plenty like it. Repetitive tasks in the fashion club were often punctuated with whatever impression caught their whims. She'd seen their head bare as well. If there were superficial details to be absorbed about Blaise Dolly had been exposed to them. There was always deniability, though. If Dolly corrected her mistake, turned around, and found another house this could all end here. They could both forget what they saw. The plan would remain on course.
Their hands moved from the make-up kit spread out in front of them to the rifle in their lap.
It was a simple proposition. There were many houses in the deserted neighborhood and no signs that anyone had been near the one they had chosen recently. The odds that any person would explore where they were hidden were already low, and when you stacked on the caveat that their observer knew them well enough to recognize them at a glance they skyrocketed. Even with others seeking shelter from the storm they would likely be comfortable until they finished reapplying Carl. If anyone burst in on them afterwards they would relish the opportunity to demonstrate their composure. Yesterday was an anomalous footnote not worth considering. Worst case scenario neither witness to their outburst had sense to put two and two together. The plan was secure. Their name had not appeared in this morning's record and neither had any they cared to dwell on. Mm, not exactly true. Violet's ability to land an intended shot surprised them enough to doubt it was real. An accident drawing down attention the unstable wretch would surely shatter under was not so awful a turn. They would not be surprised to hear her name on the other side of the equation by morning.
Such musings were entertaining but wasteful. In fairness they also distracted them from the discomforting amount of stubble that had formed on their scalp; they could not remember the last evening or morning that had not included shaving their head smooth. Two days departed from their routine left them itchy. Physically, yes, but in a more intangible way. There were few things in life that Blaise practiced with consistency. Given less urgency they might muse on what else they were losing already, but there was work at hand. They could only count on so much privacy and they still needed to finish their eyebrows, put in their contacts, touch up their cheeks perhaps. Passable, but it needed perfecting. They could not afford to be sloppy.
"Blaise?"
Fuck.
Blaise did not need to look up to know who had found them. Dolly was an unmistakable presence, one that should not be in this room. She knew. Blaise knew from her tone that she knew she was making a mistake. It was not a gambit on her part, Dolly was often out of step with the games they played. It was possible they had spent all this time in orbit of each other without her ever learning a thing of social subterfuge.
Carl smiled sheepishly. Cleared his throat proper like and kept his eyes down, wouldn't do to look on a lady in uh, exposure. Mighty embarrassin' for both of them. "S-sorry ma'am, 'fraid you've got me confused. Just ol' Carl back here."
If Dolly had never heard this voice before she'd heard plenty like it. Repetitive tasks in the fashion club were often punctuated with whatever impression caught their whims. She'd seen their head bare as well. If there were superficial details to be absorbed about Blaise Dolly had been exposed to them. There was always deniability, though. If Dolly corrected her mistake, turned around, and found another house this could all end here. They could both forget what they saw. The plan would remain on course.
Their hands moved from the make-up kit spread out in front of them to the rifle in their lap.
For a second, there was no treachery of images. She was not drowning. This was not a nightmare. There was just Dolly, standing half-undressed in the doorway, and Blaise, sitting with eyes averted.
She understood on a somewhat instinctual level what was going on in front of her. Given a minute or two more, she would have been able to work it all out more neatly. If she hadn't been taken aback by their sudden appearance and the incongruous voice, she might have acted differently.
Or not.
Doly had always run from her own demons, but she had a bad habit of playing with the ones that came from outside. Perhaps she invited things in that had no business being here after all, like Violet thought she herself had done.
"No?" Her puzzled denial, a refutation of the claim that the person before her was just an illusion, a figment of her imagination.
Fight or flight was a strange beast. Human nature at war with itself. Blaise's dainty white hands, ghostly in the grey light, reached for the gun, and Dolly's first reaction was to yank her dress back up from where she had been in the process of sliding out of it. Maybe the second made a difference, maybe not.
In the space between a breath, she was frozen, unable to move until she knew if the gun was going to come up or not.
She understood on a somewhat instinctual level what was going on in front of her. Given a minute or two more, she would have been able to work it all out more neatly. If she hadn't been taken aback by their sudden appearance and the incongruous voice, she might have acted differently.
Or not.
Doly had always run from her own demons, but she had a bad habit of playing with the ones that came from outside. Perhaps she invited things in that had no business being here after all, like Violet thought she herself had done.
"No?" Her puzzled denial, a refutation of the claim that the person before her was just an illusion, a figment of her imagination.
Fight or flight was a strange beast. Human nature at war with itself. Blaise's dainty white hands, ghostly in the grey light, reached for the gun, and Dolly's first reaction was to yank her dress back up from where she had been in the process of sliding out of it. Maybe the second made a difference, maybe not.
In the space between a breath, she was frozen, unable to move until she knew if the gun was going to come up or not.
"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."
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Emprexx Plush
- Posts: 1678
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 3:37 pm
- Contact:
A single word received with a deep exhale. Bubbling in the pit of their stomach that could be resolve, regret, sorrow, anger, impulsive actions and their consequences but not the uncertainty in between.
"No."
Their eyes rose a half step ahead of the barrel.
"No."
Their eyes rose a half step ahead of the barrel.
And reality existed again, stark and clear. She had walked into a house thought vacant, stepped out of her shoes, dropped her belongings and Marceline's weapon, left her sodden and soiled tights on the floor between the shoes and the bedroom, began to properly undress, all without exercising any real vigilance. And she found what some part of her had been looking for.
Not a stranger wearing a friend's face. The other way around.
The gun came up. Dolly stepped backwards. She stepped onto the tights left wadded on the floor. Half a second of slipping, off-balance.
It was easier to run barefoot, but she had never been very fast, and her heart was hammering with something that didn't feel like the right kind of fear. When she turned tail, she still did have some presence of mind. As she burst out of the grey house into the grey day, Dolly turned in the direction opposite the way Marceline had gone.
Not a stranger wearing a friend's face. The other way around.
The gun came up. Dolly stepped backwards. She stepped onto the tights left wadded on the floor. Half a second of slipping, off-balance.
It was easier to run barefoot, but she had never been very fast, and her heart was hammering with something that didn't feel like the right kind of fear. When she turned tail, she still did have some presence of mind. As she burst out of the grey house into the grey day, Dolly turned in the direction opposite the way Marceline had gone.
"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."