Oh god, she was all alone.
>> Ivy Langley continued from Right Now, I Feel No Pain
She'd wanted to turn around before she'd even reached the door, but she heard more toxic words shouted at her retreating back, heard the thunk of something thrown, and she kept walking. Her feet moved without input, carrying her away, down the empty road. Hands empty. She hadn't even taken her bleach spray, let alone her bags—of course not her bags. If she took her bags he might think she wasn't coming back. He had to know she was coming back, right? He had to. They'd still be here when she came back. She had no idea how she'd make her way back to the same house but that didn't matter, she'd figure it out, they'd figure it out. They would. If—
If. When. She couldn't deal with if. When he forgave her, it would all be okay, back to normal. It was a mistake, they'd both made mistakes, it was fine—
She stopped for a while, tucked between two houses, she fell to her knees, gasping for air, she wept.
She kept walking. She'd wound up on the other side of town, where the buildings seemed almost habitable; she passed by the infirmary, her heart squeezing in her chest as she passed the familiar facade. She wondered if her clothes were still there. She wondered if the bodies were. Mostly she stared at her feet and kept moving.
It was overwhelmingly, disgustingly hot, even with her hair now tied off her shoulders. There was no wind. The only sound was birdcall, and the occasional distant noise that could have been anything at all. She remembered insisting she and Ace go into the infirmary through the back window. The paths were too open, she'd said. Too easy to get shot. It was funny in that not-funny way again, how much she didn't care. She didn't want to die. Of course she didn't want to die, but. Maybe it was less that she didn't care and more that she didn't have the capacity. The energy it took to keep one foot in front of another was already too much.
She wanted a rest, she wanted a drink, she wanted to sleep, she wanted to brush her hair, she wanted to pet her cat, she wanted Myles. She had to go back. She was terrified of going back. What if—no ifs, but what if—if—
What if he didn't want her back?
She couldn't. She couldn't do it. He had to, he would. She just had to go back, but the fear had kept her moving, and it stopped her when she turned back around.
Just a little longer. Just a little time to rest. Her rib had started aching again, all she needed was to sit down. Just for a few minutes, and then she'd find her way back. One way or another.
She changed her trajectory toward the nearest house. Just a little time. She didn't have the capacity to think beyond that, either, to weigh her options, to consider the risks. All she saw was a series of orderly steps that would take her back, house, rest, walk, follow, Myles. One at a time.
Her hands hadn't stopped trembling when she used them to pry open the door.
Never Learn Not To Love
private, cw: eye trauma
Never Learn Not To Love
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
((Tirzah Foss continued from the First SOTF Chili Cook Off))
Tirzah picked up her head from the table she was sitting at when she heard the door open.
She had come to the house not long ago. She walked in, dropped her bag by the couch, slung her cult robes onto the couch as well, and went to the second and only other room. There was no back door to be worried about. Tirzah sighed and walked back in to the first room, sitting at the kitchen table, resting her head on it and closing her eyes for a moment. Her gun thunked onto the wood of the table as well, still in her hand.
At least she had had one good meal. Maybe now it was time for a good rest, which she hadn't been able to have being alone and out in the woods. This was a structure at least and provided some kind of protection. Maybe later she could find some group that she could hide in. There had to be some people she could fool with her big eyes and her plausible lies. And it wasn't any fun to be alone. Not now and not before.
But before she could do anything else, she heard the creak of the front door.
Tirzah pealed her face, sticky from the head and humidity off the table.
Tirzah blinked and her eyes furrowed at the familiar girl in the doorway.
"Creeping Ivy?" she said quietly, breaking the silence.
Tirzah raised the gun and fired at her.
Tirzah picked up her head from the table she was sitting at when she heard the door open.
She had come to the house not long ago. She walked in, dropped her bag by the couch, slung her cult robes onto the couch as well, and went to the second and only other room. There was no back door to be worried about. Tirzah sighed and walked back in to the first room, sitting at the kitchen table, resting her head on it and closing her eyes for a moment. Her gun thunked onto the wood of the table as well, still in her hand.
At least she had had one good meal. Maybe now it was time for a good rest, which she hadn't been able to have being alone and out in the woods. This was a structure at least and provided some kind of protection. Maybe later she could find some group that she could hide in. There had to be some people she could fool with her big eyes and her plausible lies. And it wasn't any fun to be alone. Not now and not before.
But before she could do anything else, she heard the creak of the front door.
Tirzah pealed her face, sticky from the head and humidity off the table.
Tirzah blinked and her eyes furrowed at the familiar girl in the doorway.
"Creeping Ivy?" she said quietly, breaking the silence.
Tirzah raised the gun and fired at her.
The door had already closed behind Ivy when her eyes locked onto Tirzah's.
She heard her voice, she heard that stupid nickname she'd always hated, she heard an explosion, she felt something white-hot slice through her shoulder, thank god, thank god her reflexes were still good, she'd hit the floor behind the couch before her brain processed a single thing. Her heart was stuck in her throat, she tasted sour. It had been five seconds. It had been five seconds and she wasn't dead, not yet, the closed door in front of her mocking her for her stupidity. She should have just gone back. Why hadn't she just gone back? Why had she gone?
Tirzah. Tirzah. Tirzah. Pretentious, obnoxious, inscrutable Tirzah. If someone had told Ivy a few years into college Tirzah'd murdered someone she probably would have shrugged and gone, yeah, why not. Why not? Tirzah. Ivy'd always hated her fucking name so much and hated worse that she'd never found a nickname that properly buried under her skin. She hated how put-together she was all the time and how little she ever seemed to care about anything and her whole stupid photography thing and how she never ever showed up to anything on time. She'd hated her for years.
But she'd liked her, too, almost, a little, maybe. Why else would they have been friends?
Ivy's eyes darted around, looking for something, anything to do that wasn't sitting here and waiting to get shot. Going for the door would take too long, Tirzah herself wasn't close enough to go for, there were random odds and ends scattered around, broken glass, bits of wood, some old books. A mug, oddly whole and out of place among the rest of the detritus.
Three more seconds, maybe. Her reflexes were sound. Her eyes only peeked above the couch for long enough to send the mug flying at Tirzah's head.
She heard her voice, she heard that stupid nickname she'd always hated, she heard an explosion, she felt something white-hot slice through her shoulder, thank god, thank god her reflexes were still good, she'd hit the floor behind the couch before her brain processed a single thing. Her heart was stuck in her throat, she tasted sour. It had been five seconds. It had been five seconds and she wasn't dead, not yet, the closed door in front of her mocking her for her stupidity. She should have just gone back. Why hadn't she just gone back? Why had she gone?
Tirzah. Tirzah. Tirzah. Pretentious, obnoxious, inscrutable Tirzah. If someone had told Ivy a few years into college Tirzah'd murdered someone she probably would have shrugged and gone, yeah, why not. Why not? Tirzah. Ivy'd always hated her fucking name so much and hated worse that she'd never found a nickname that properly buried under her skin. She hated how put-together she was all the time and how little she ever seemed to care about anything and her whole stupid photography thing and how she never ever showed up to anything on time. She'd hated her for years.
But she'd liked her, too, almost, a little, maybe. Why else would they have been friends?
Ivy's eyes darted around, looking for something, anything to do that wasn't sitting here and waiting to get shot. Going for the door would take too long, Tirzah herself wasn't close enough to go for, there were random odds and ends scattered around, broken glass, bits of wood, some old books. A mug, oddly whole and out of place among the rest of the detritus.
Three more seconds, maybe. Her reflexes were sound. Her eyes only peeked above the couch for long enough to send the mug flying at Tirzah's head.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Tirzah missed or Ivy moved fast enough or some combination of the two. Ivy hurled a mug at her and Tirzah dodged but dropped the gun as a result, hearing it clatter under the table.
"Hey, not cool!" she shouted, diving under the table to try and get the gun back.
It was a foregone conclusion that Ivy had to die since Wyatt had told her that the girl was kill-on-sight, but she felt somehow that even though Ivy wasn't a huge fan of hers and Tirzah got the most out of their relationship when she was annoying Ivy, they kind of understood each other. Not that these two girls understood why the other did things, but that when they did things they could reliably go "Yep. That's what she would do. That's just how she is."
"Heads up, gimme a K, gimme an I give me a double L. Why?" Tirzah mumbled as she felt around for the gun. Finally she grabbed the gun and and glanced back over the top of the table. Tirzah ducked back down just quickly enough to avoid taking a shot to the head as a bullet lodged itself in the wall above her.
"Hey, not cool!" she shouted, diving under the table to try and get the gun back.
It was a foregone conclusion that Ivy had to die since Wyatt had told her that the girl was kill-on-sight, but she felt somehow that even though Ivy wasn't a huge fan of hers and Tirzah got the most out of their relationship when she was annoying Ivy, they kind of understood each other. Not that these two girls understood why the other did things, but that when they did things they could reliably go "Yep. That's what she would do. That's just how she is."
"Heads up, gimme a K, gimme an I give me a double L. Why?" Tirzah mumbled as she felt around for the gun. Finally she grabbed the gun and and glanced back over the top of the table. Tirzah ducked back down just quickly enough to avoid taking a shot to the head as a bullet lodged itself in the wall above her.
There was a series of two cartoonish thunks after Ivy threw the mug. A peal of hysterical giggling bubbled out from her lips, from the ridiculous noises, from nerves, from the absolute absurdity of this entire situation. Her brain buzzed in a static hum, her body moved of its own accord, her eyes felt desiccated after so many tears. She comprehended nothing. She had felt little but fear, but paranoia, for so many days, and yet how much danger had she truly been in before now? Her broken rib had made her afraid. She expected bullets from the woods at every turn. And here she was with them flying at her for real, and if Tirzah had aimed a few inches lower she'd be laid out and half-dead by now, and yet, and yet, and yet.
Her heart was still in her throat. She swallowed. She was anxious, yes, her chest ached with every beat, she wished she were back with Myles, she wished she were home, and yet. She wasn't afraid anymore, was she?
Broken glass, bits of wood, some old books, a bag. A bag. In the heat of the moment she almost didn't put two and two together, but luckily the sound of Tirzah moving behind her was enough for her to dive for it, drag it back behind the couch with her. She didn't have to search long.
Ivy had never held a gun before, had never even seen one in action in person until Amelia had shot wildly back on their first day here. A vague memory seen through a drug-induced haze, but this, in front of her, was all too clear. And way too big, too, bigger than Declyn or Amelia's, bigger than the tiny thing Tirzah was waving around. Her wrists felt heavy just holding it and she was very aware very quickly that she had absolutely no clue what she was doing.
That thing there was a safety, yes, she knew that much. It clicked out of place and, emboldened by the weight in her hands, she dared to stand up in time to catch Tirzah popping her head up over the table.
The explosive force coming from her hands was so strong she squeaked in surprise and practically dropped the gun in the process, the first shot buried in the wall over Tirzah's head, a second one going wild and hitting the side of the table. She ducked back under cover just in time to hear two more shots go off in her direction. The noise that escaped her almost resembled laughter, too high-pitched, too rough, too sharp. She sounded ridiculous. Her arms were so heavy.
Tirzah. Tirzah Foss. She couldn't imagine someone less intimidating. The very idea that she could be honest to god dead, not breathing, not existing, at any moment because of Tirzah Foss was such a wildly absurd notion that she felt stupid even contemplating it. How could she be afraid? It wasn't real. It wasn't real.
"You suck at this!" She called from her cover, her voice somewhere between gleeful and hysterical, because the words came to her mouth, because there were no consequences, because she was currently living through a fever dream designed by her own poor decisions. Her right shoulder still burned where the bullet had skimmed over it. Maybe that should have woken her. Maybe it had.
She crawled carefully around the edge of the couch, trying to peek around the corner, another bullet just missing her for her troubles. She shot two off in return blindly, not daring to look back out and aim properly.
It was almost funny. She wondered what was wrong with her. She wondered if it would still be funny once one of them was dead.
Her heart was still in her throat. She swallowed. She was anxious, yes, her chest ached with every beat, she wished she were back with Myles, she wished she were home, and yet. She wasn't afraid anymore, was she?
Broken glass, bits of wood, some old books, a bag. A bag. In the heat of the moment she almost didn't put two and two together, but luckily the sound of Tirzah moving behind her was enough for her to dive for it, drag it back behind the couch with her. She didn't have to search long.
Ivy had never held a gun before, had never even seen one in action in person until Amelia had shot wildly back on their first day here. A vague memory seen through a drug-induced haze, but this, in front of her, was all too clear. And way too big, too, bigger than Declyn or Amelia's, bigger than the tiny thing Tirzah was waving around. Her wrists felt heavy just holding it and she was very aware very quickly that she had absolutely no clue what she was doing.
That thing there was a safety, yes, she knew that much. It clicked out of place and, emboldened by the weight in her hands, she dared to stand up in time to catch Tirzah popping her head up over the table.
The explosive force coming from her hands was so strong she squeaked in surprise and practically dropped the gun in the process, the first shot buried in the wall over Tirzah's head, a second one going wild and hitting the side of the table. She ducked back under cover just in time to hear two more shots go off in her direction. The noise that escaped her almost resembled laughter, too high-pitched, too rough, too sharp. She sounded ridiculous. Her arms were so heavy.
Tirzah. Tirzah Foss. She couldn't imagine someone less intimidating. The very idea that she could be honest to god dead, not breathing, not existing, at any moment because of Tirzah Foss was such a wildly absurd notion that she felt stupid even contemplating it. How could she be afraid? It wasn't real. It wasn't real.
"You suck at this!" She called from her cover, her voice somewhere between gleeful and hysterical, because the words came to her mouth, because there were no consequences, because she was currently living through a fever dream designed by her own poor decisions. Her right shoulder still burned where the bullet had skimmed over it. Maybe that should have woken her. Maybe it had.
She crawled carefully around the edge of the couch, trying to peek around the corner, another bullet just missing her for her troubles. She shot two off in return blindly, not daring to look back out and aim properly.
It was almost funny. She wondered what was wrong with her. She wondered if it would still be funny once one of them was dead.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Tirzah poked her head up to take another shot and was surprised when a shot was returned from behind the couch, causing her to duck back down.
Tirzah pushed the table over so that it lay on its side and sat behind it. Looking up as a few more shots pop off nearby, one hitting the side of the table. She just sighed in exasperation. Ivy had gotten to the other gun in her bag. Not ideal. From the other side of the room she heard Ivy's giggling and Tirzah rolled her eyes. Maybe she'd lost it. At least someone was having fun on this island, though.
"Yeah? Come a little closer, babe. I can't hear you so good from all the way over there," she called out with her smile audible in her voice.
Tirzah shot a rapid volley in Ivy's general direction without order or thought. Items from around the room popped and the air hissed.
Tirzah pushed the table over so that it lay on its side and sat behind it. Looking up as a few more shots pop off nearby, one hitting the side of the table. She just sighed in exasperation. Ivy had gotten to the other gun in her bag. Not ideal. From the other side of the room she heard Ivy's giggling and Tirzah rolled her eyes. Maybe she'd lost it. At least someone was having fun on this island, though.
"Yeah? Come a little closer, babe. I can't hear you so good from all the way over there," she called out with her smile audible in her voice.
Tirzah shot a rapid volley in Ivy's general direction without order or thought. Items from around the room popped and the air hissed.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, click.
Silence. Or near enough to it between the echoing remnants of the gunshots in her ears and her heartbeat still lodged so firmly in her throat that she swore it got louder when she opened her mouth. That click could have meant a few different things, the most obvious of which would be ideal. Was Tirzah out of ammo? Ivy had her bag right here, presumably any extra bullets she had for that gun would be in here, too, though probably it wasn't worth her life to bet on that. She could have extra, or the sound could have meant something else, or something else, anything else, what was the point in pretending things couldn't get worse?
Tirzah called her babe and she thought about ripping her tongue out for the second it took for her to remember it wasn't a joke anymore.
When she looked around the side of the couch again she was a little more bold, peeking just long enough to dare Tirzah to shoot back, if she could, her finger held down on the trigger of her own gun. Four more explosions, twice as loud, rattled her frame and the room; most went wild, one punched through the table Tirzah hid behind, though she assumed it hadn't actually hit her based on the lack of screaming. Would Tirzah scream? The thought unnerved her but less than it should have.
Her gun had run empty. There were bullets in the bag, probably, but she had no idea how to reload this gun and no time to figure it out. Tirzah hadn't shot back, which meant—what?
It meant she could run. She could take Tirzah's bag, even, if she wanted, if the bullets for both guns were inside she'd keep Tirzah disarmed that way. Find Myles and Garren with food and water in tow and a new gun besides, leave Tirzah alone to starve, that was lucky, right, that couldn't have been planned better? She eyed the door. Tirzah was fast and Ivy's rib was still broken but she doubted she could overpower her without the gun. It was worth a shot. Not like she had any good reason to stay.
None at all.
The room was so heavy and humid that she swore she could see the bullet's paths still hanging, cut marks through the thick air. She felt hot and cold all at once, skin prickling, mouth full of bile, her heart digging up what she'd tried so hard to bury, you're going to be okay, he'd said, and she was until she wasn't.
She'd stabbed Julien in the hand. She'd hated him. That was supposed to be enough, but it hadn't.
It might never be enough again.
Ivy dropped the gun and rushed not for the door but for the shelf against the wall, stacked high with questionable books and porcelain figurines. She grabbed a large statuette and hurled it in Tirzah's direction. It shattered into dangerous-looking shards as it hit the ground and Ivy threw another, and another, automated motions, frenzy, her arms hurt. Her lungs hurt. She didn't stop.
Silence. Or near enough to it between the echoing remnants of the gunshots in her ears and her heartbeat still lodged so firmly in her throat that she swore it got louder when she opened her mouth. That click could have meant a few different things, the most obvious of which would be ideal. Was Tirzah out of ammo? Ivy had her bag right here, presumably any extra bullets she had for that gun would be in here, too, though probably it wasn't worth her life to bet on that. She could have extra, or the sound could have meant something else, or something else, anything else, what was the point in pretending things couldn't get worse?
Tirzah called her babe and she thought about ripping her tongue out for the second it took for her to remember it wasn't a joke anymore.
When she looked around the side of the couch again she was a little more bold, peeking just long enough to dare Tirzah to shoot back, if she could, her finger held down on the trigger of her own gun. Four more explosions, twice as loud, rattled her frame and the room; most went wild, one punched through the table Tirzah hid behind, though she assumed it hadn't actually hit her based on the lack of screaming. Would Tirzah scream? The thought unnerved her but less than it should have.
Her gun had run empty. There were bullets in the bag, probably, but she had no idea how to reload this gun and no time to figure it out. Tirzah hadn't shot back, which meant—what?
It meant she could run. She could take Tirzah's bag, even, if she wanted, if the bullets for both guns were inside she'd keep Tirzah disarmed that way. Find Myles and Garren with food and water in tow and a new gun besides, leave Tirzah alone to starve, that was lucky, right, that couldn't have been planned better? She eyed the door. Tirzah was fast and Ivy's rib was still broken but she doubted she could overpower her without the gun. It was worth a shot. Not like she had any good reason to stay.
None at all.
The room was so heavy and humid that she swore she could see the bullet's paths still hanging, cut marks through the thick air. She felt hot and cold all at once, skin prickling, mouth full of bile, her heart digging up what she'd tried so hard to bury, you're going to be okay, he'd said, and she was until she wasn't.
She'd stabbed Julien in the hand. She'd hated him. That was supposed to be enough, but it hadn't.
It might never be enough again.
Ivy dropped the gun and rushed not for the door but for the shelf against the wall, stacked high with questionable books and porcelain figurines. She grabbed a large statuette and hurled it in Tirzah's direction. It shattered into dangerous-looking shards as it hit the ground and Ivy threw another, and another, automated motions, frenzy, her arms hurt. Her lungs hurt. She didn't stop.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Click click.
Then a few loud bangs exploded nearby. A hole appeared in an instant in her table barrier next to her. Tirzah looked through the hole to see Ivy go to the book shelf and start hurling things. The eye of a broken figurine landed near her and looked up at her sadly.
"Ohhhh, ow. You got me," she groaned.
Tirzah went to a nearby cupboard in the kitchen area near where she had sat and looked for what she could use. She pulled out a pan and some dishes and stood. Tirzah whipped the plates as fast as she could at Ivy like heavy frisbees, using the pan to deflect the items coming at her.
The room was beginning to become littered with broken items and in another time could have looked like maybe just a very raucous party was in progress. She put her whole body into each throw of each knick knack, getting just as much thrill when they hit the floor as she would if they'd hit Ivy.
Then a few loud bangs exploded nearby. A hole appeared in an instant in her table barrier next to her. Tirzah looked through the hole to see Ivy go to the book shelf and start hurling things. The eye of a broken figurine landed near her and looked up at her sadly.
"Ohhhh, ow. You got me," she groaned.
Tirzah went to a nearby cupboard in the kitchen area near where she had sat and looked for what she could use. She pulled out a pan and some dishes and stood. Tirzah whipped the plates as fast as she could at Ivy like heavy frisbees, using the pan to deflect the items coming at her.
The room was beginning to become littered with broken items and in another time could have looked like maybe just a very raucous party was in progress. She put her whole body into each throw of each knick knack, getting just as much thrill when they hit the floor as she would if they'd hit Ivy.
She would probably be laughing at this whole situation if it wasn't happening to her. It didn't feel like the sort of fight that could cause any real damage now that the guns were out of the picture. It felt petty, childish, even, except a plate came flying at her face and she blocked it with her forearm and it shattered. A shard stuck in her skin and if she hadn't moved quickly enough that would have been her neck and that wasn't funny at all.
She wasn't likely to run out of ammo anytime soon, but Tirzah's throws were more accurate than Ivy's and her arms were already tired. Books, figurines, a couple more mugs, she needed something more than that, she dodged another plate and nearly knocked her best option off of its perch in the process.
A vase. Big enough she'd have someone else carry it if she needed to move it. She remembered, suddenly, vividly, the florist before prom with Myles, trying to talk him into buying a bouquet practically larger than he was in a vase like this one, nearly three feet high. For Declyn. It had been for Declyn. Round in circles. None of it could be real.
She shouldn't be able to lift it for long, let alone throw it, but she thought again about running, and about why she couldn't, and her breath tasted like fire. Her veins burned.
She rushed at Tirzah with the vase in her arms and heard another plate collide into it before she hurled the thing at her with all her weight behind it.
She wasn't likely to run out of ammo anytime soon, but Tirzah's throws were more accurate than Ivy's and her arms were already tired. Books, figurines, a couple more mugs, she needed something more than that, she dodged another plate and nearly knocked her best option off of its perch in the process.
A vase. Big enough she'd have someone else carry it if she needed to move it. She remembered, suddenly, vividly, the florist before prom with Myles, trying to talk him into buying a bouquet practically larger than he was in a vase like this one, nearly three feet high. For Declyn. It had been for Declyn. Round in circles. None of it could be real.
She shouldn't be able to lift it for long, let alone throw it, but she thought again about running, and about why she couldn't, and her breath tasted like fire. Her veins burned.
She rushed at Tirzah with the vase in her arms and heard another plate collide into it before she hurled the thing at her with all her weight behind it.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
The items exploded on contact into a million pieces around them. Tirzah swung the pan at a book that had been thrown at her, returning the item like they were playing tennis.
She was swept away by the moment, reacting with her thinking brain on autopilot. A plate hit Ivy and Tirzah winced as if she hadn't been expecting it to do damage, despite her aiming it with that purpose.
She turned back to get more ammunition, if there was any left, but then heard footsteps approaching her. Tirzah looked up just in time to see the shape of the vase before it collided with her. She had never been punched before, but she imagined that this is what it felt like.
Tirzah held her face, staggering back. When she pulled her hand back she noticed that it was slick with blood. A piece of it had cut her cheek. Tirzah glared at Ivy before running into the next room and shutting the door behind her.
Tirzah slammed her back against the wall that separated the bedroom from the living room -- feeling how flimsy it was -- and slid down until she was sitting. Her blonde hair was mashed haphazardly against the wall and she hugged her knees. She didn't make any effort to stop the bleeding and she blinked furiously, trying to clear her fuzzy vision and slight nausea. For a moment, Tirzah only heard her own loud breathing.
.....
"Ivy, my love?"
She was swept away by the moment, reacting with her thinking brain on autopilot. A plate hit Ivy and Tirzah winced as if she hadn't been expecting it to do damage, despite her aiming it with that purpose.
She turned back to get more ammunition, if there was any left, but then heard footsteps approaching her. Tirzah looked up just in time to see the shape of the vase before it collided with her. She had never been punched before, but she imagined that this is what it felt like.
Tirzah held her face, staggering back. When she pulled her hand back she noticed that it was slick with blood. A piece of it had cut her cheek. Tirzah glared at Ivy before running into the next room and shutting the door behind her.
Tirzah slammed her back against the wall that separated the bedroom from the living room -- feeling how flimsy it was -- and slid down until she was sitting. Her blonde hair was mashed haphazardly against the wall and she hugged her knees. She didn't make any effort to stop the bleeding and she blinked furiously, trying to clear her fuzzy vision and slight nausea. For a moment, Tirzah only heard her own loud breathing.
.....
"Ivy, my love?"
And then she was gone.
Not gone, not really; Ivy was pretty sure all these houses were laid out more or less the same, which meant there was no way out for Tirzah on the other side of that wall. Ivy stared at her, at the blood at her cheek, until it disappeared behind the door. That was Ivy, she had done that, her muscles would make her regret the action later but a thrill of adrenaline shot through her spine. The door, she could go through the door but she needed a weapon, no guns, something else, she needed to—she needed—
she needed
she needed to breathe.
Her limbs were shaking. Her arm—it wasn't bleeding, or at least it wasn't bleeding enough that she thought it was an immediate priority. It hurt, now that she was looking at it, now that she was distracted enough from the effect of adrenaline to notice; not the way her rib hurt, sharper, unsubtle, angry. The shard of porcelain was ugly and jagged and bigger than she was comfortable with and actually looking at the spot where it split her skin made her stomach churn. She'd need to take it out, but not now. She would bleed, then, but she could deal with it.
She had to stay, she knew. She understood why, understood why her instinct was still to ram through the bedroom door and let her emotions figure out the rest but she couldn't. That couldn't be it, that couldn't be her, it wasn't real but the sharp pain made her thoughts clearer with every movement. This wasn't her. She'd been sad, yes, angry, vengeful, she'd wanted people hurt, she'd asked to have them hurt. The context had changed, yes, everything was different now, she was different now. She was. Was she? She'd hardly recognize herself in a mirror but all her insides did was ache for home. She wanted her bed and her wine and her music and her Lion and her Myles. She was Ivy. She was still Ivy. She had to still be Ivy.
It wasn't the first time in her life she'd wanted to hurt Tirzah Foss but it wasn't supposed to taste like blood.
She startled out of her reverie at Tirzah's voice behind the wall; she hadn't noticed herself moving to lean against it. She wanted badly to collapse, curl up on the floor, maybe. She slid slowly instead, back against the wall. She had to stay. She didn't want to stay. She didn't trust her hands.
"Yes," she said, faltering. Her voice sounded like an echo of itself.
"What have you done, Tirzah?"
Her tone more teasing than accusatory, like Ivy had found her passed out naked at a party or something, but it rang hollow. Her rage pooled in her stomach and left the rest of her cold.
Not gone, not really; Ivy was pretty sure all these houses were laid out more or less the same, which meant there was no way out for Tirzah on the other side of that wall. Ivy stared at her, at the blood at her cheek, until it disappeared behind the door. That was Ivy, she had done that, her muscles would make her regret the action later but a thrill of adrenaline shot through her spine. The door, she could go through the door but she needed a weapon, no guns, something else, she needed to—she needed—
she needed
she needed to breathe.
Her limbs were shaking. Her arm—it wasn't bleeding, or at least it wasn't bleeding enough that she thought it was an immediate priority. It hurt, now that she was looking at it, now that she was distracted enough from the effect of adrenaline to notice; not the way her rib hurt, sharper, unsubtle, angry. The shard of porcelain was ugly and jagged and bigger than she was comfortable with and actually looking at the spot where it split her skin made her stomach churn. She'd need to take it out, but not now. She would bleed, then, but she could deal with it.
She had to stay, she knew. She understood why, understood why her instinct was still to ram through the bedroom door and let her emotions figure out the rest but she couldn't. That couldn't be it, that couldn't be her, it wasn't real but the sharp pain made her thoughts clearer with every movement. This wasn't her. She'd been sad, yes, angry, vengeful, she'd wanted people hurt, she'd asked to have them hurt. The context had changed, yes, everything was different now, she was different now. She was. Was she? She'd hardly recognize herself in a mirror but all her insides did was ache for home. She wanted her bed and her wine and her music and her Lion and her Myles. She was Ivy. She was still Ivy. She had to still be Ivy.
It wasn't the first time in her life she'd wanted to hurt Tirzah Foss but it wasn't supposed to taste like blood.
She startled out of her reverie at Tirzah's voice behind the wall; she hadn't noticed herself moving to lean against it. She wanted badly to collapse, curl up on the floor, maybe. She slid slowly instead, back against the wall. She had to stay. She didn't want to stay. She didn't trust her hands.
"Yes," she said, faltering. Her voice sounded like an echo of itself.
"What have you done, Tirzah?"
Her tone more teasing than accusatory, like Ivy had found her passed out naked at a party or something, but it rang hollow. Her rage pooled in her stomach and left the rest of her cold.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Tirzah picked up her head when she heard the muffled voice from much closer than she anticipated. Ivy must have been sitting near the same part of the wall as she was. Maybe they were even sitting back to back.
She asked what she'd done and suddenly Tirzah started to cry. It was the sort of cry that came from the center of your stomach and ripped its way up, taking your insides with it. She blinked and took a deep, rasping breath.
"Ivy -- " she said before she choked up.
It was the gentleness of the question that killed her. If she'd screamed at her, Tirzah could have held it together.
She turned so that she was facing the wall and put her hand up to it, palm pressed flat agains the surface with smears of her own blood on it.
"He warned me that you'd come for me," she said, trying to make her voice as loud as it would go, resulting in something somewhat audible. "He said it would be you or Faith or Ace or Connor. And I knew I could sweet talk Ace and Connor."
She asked what she'd done and suddenly Tirzah started to cry. It was the sort of cry that came from the center of your stomach and ripped its way up, taking your insides with it. She blinked and took a deep, rasping breath.
"Ivy -- " she said before she choked up.
It was the gentleness of the question that killed her. If she'd screamed at her, Tirzah could have held it together.
She turned so that she was facing the wall and put her hand up to it, palm pressed flat agains the surface with smears of her own blood on it.
"He warned me that you'd come for me," she said, trying to make her voice as loud as it would go, resulting in something somewhat audible. "He said it would be you or Faith or Ace or Connor. And I knew I could sweet talk Ace and Connor."
Tirzah was crying, and Ivy couldn't, she wouldn't, she wanted to. Any emotion could break her and she was afraid of what breaking would do. Her stomach curled onto itself, she had done this, it had been her. She'd been so pleased with herself, a moment past, but that was an emotion, too.
She pulled her knees up to her stomach, hugging them to her chest. Breathing, slowly.
"Ace is a sweetheart, but he's kind of an idiot, you know?" she said tonelessly. She meant it, with love. Nothing she could say about Connor would be quite as positive. "He was looking for you, when I was with him. I remember. After Toby and everything. I told him it was a stupid idea."
She shrugged, not that Tirzah could see her.
"I should have been looking for Faith. No one else—no one understands. No one cares. I just wanted—I'm supposed to get over it. I'm supposed to be over it."
Her breathing was getting unsteady. It wasn't fair.
"Just tell me, okay? Just tell me why. I just—I need to know."
She pulled her knees up to her stomach, hugging them to her chest. Breathing, slowly.
"Ace is a sweetheart, but he's kind of an idiot, you know?" she said tonelessly. She meant it, with love. Nothing she could say about Connor would be quite as positive. "He was looking for you, when I was with him. I remember. After Toby and everything. I told him it was a stupid idea."
She shrugged, not that Tirzah could see her.
"I should have been looking for Faith. No one else—no one understands. No one cares. I just wanted—I'm supposed to get over it. I'm supposed to be over it."
Her breathing was getting unsteady. It wasn't fair.
"Just tell me, okay? Just tell me why. I just—I need to know."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
"Because he asked me to," she said dully, tears clinging stubbornly to her blonde lashes.
"He got into a fight with Marco V- whatever and he got chainsaw'd. I --" she swallowed and sniffled " -- I tried to carry him for as long as I could but come the fuck on. He's like 400 pounds or something. He's a fridge. I couldn't drag him anymore and he knew it. It was that or let him bleed out."
Her fingernails scratched against the wall.
"No good deed, right?"
"He got into a fight with Marco V- whatever and he got chainsaw'd. I --" she swallowed and sniffled " -- I tried to carry him for as long as I could but come the fuck on. He's like 400 pounds or something. He's a fridge. I couldn't drag him anymore and he knew it. It was that or let him bleed out."
Her fingernails scratched against the wall.
"No good deed, right?"
"I don't believe you."
The words were too quiet, they died hanging in the air.
It made sense. Of course it made sense. Wyatt was loud, and intimidating, and strong, and hated. Of course people would attack him, of course someone would try to kill him. There'd been two Marcos on the announcements, Ivy had barely paid attention because the name hadn't been attached to anyone who mattered, but she remembered something about a chainsaw. So that part could be true. Of course she couldn't carry him, no one on this island could carry Wyatt Carter on their own, let alone Tirzah, why was she there? Why was she with him? She tried to drag him, okay, she couldn't. Okay. It added up. It was that or let him bleed out.
He wanted me to, she heard, echoed in a faraway voice. She hadn't been listening. It hadn't really mattered then, though, had it, and why shouldn't she believe it? Declyn was small and weak and hurting and Myles had loved him. And she loved Myles. And that was the end.
Tirzah hadn't earned that.
"Don't lie to me—!"
Her fist hit the wall.
It made sense. It added up. It all added up except where it summed to Wyatt dying, Wyatt asking to die, Wyatt doing anything but fighting and clawing through his final moments, he wouldn't, couldn't give up, he wouldn't do that. Tirzah, Tirzah, Tirzah. The facts might be true. She might not know she was lying. Did that matter? Who cared what she thought, who ever cared, why had she even asked, why did she bother, who cared, who cared, who cared, she killed him. She killed him. She killed him. She was there. She watched. Ivy had seen corpses but they were just things that were people once and she didn't have to think about it but she hadn't seen the life leave anyone's eyes and Tirzah had stolen his.
All hers but he didn't know, she hadn't had time to tell him but she could have, in another life, but he must have known, right, he must have died knowing, he wouldn't leave her. He wouldn't. He hadn't wanted to. All Tirzah had done was written an excuse in his blood and Ivy wouldn't fall for it.
She barely noticed she had gotten to her feet. All she saw was red.
The words were too quiet, they died hanging in the air.
It made sense. Of course it made sense. Wyatt was loud, and intimidating, and strong, and hated. Of course people would attack him, of course someone would try to kill him. There'd been two Marcos on the announcements, Ivy had barely paid attention because the name hadn't been attached to anyone who mattered, but she remembered something about a chainsaw. So that part could be true. Of course she couldn't carry him, no one on this island could carry Wyatt Carter on their own, let alone Tirzah, why was she there? Why was she with him? She tried to drag him, okay, she couldn't. Okay. It added up. It was that or let him bleed out.
He wanted me to, she heard, echoed in a faraway voice. She hadn't been listening. It hadn't really mattered then, though, had it, and why shouldn't she believe it? Declyn was small and weak and hurting and Myles had loved him. And she loved Myles. And that was the end.
Tirzah hadn't earned that.
"Don't lie to me—!"
Her fist hit the wall.
It made sense. It added up. It all added up except where it summed to Wyatt dying, Wyatt asking to die, Wyatt doing anything but fighting and clawing through his final moments, he wouldn't, couldn't give up, he wouldn't do that. Tirzah, Tirzah, Tirzah. The facts might be true. She might not know she was lying. Did that matter? Who cared what she thought, who ever cared, why had she even asked, why did she bother, who cared, who cared, who cared, she killed him. She killed him. She killed him. She was there. She watched. Ivy had seen corpses but they were just things that were people once and she didn't have to think about it but she hadn't seen the life leave anyone's eyes and Tirzah had stolen his.
All hers but he didn't know, she hadn't had time to tell him but she could have, in another life, but he must have known, right, he must have died knowing, he wouldn't leave her. He wouldn't. He hadn't wanted to. All Tirzah had done was written an excuse in his blood and Ivy wouldn't fall for it.
She barely noticed she had gotten to her feet. All she saw was red.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."