a thug changes and love changes and best friends become strangers
Midday Day 2; Open after Fen posts
Quinn did not move.
The idea of what was happening at home brought a smile to Connor's face. It was instinctive; he couldn't help himself. Ace had a very good point, and if Connor knew his father like he thought he did, the speedy running back was correct in assuming that Steven Lorenzen wasn't going to take the disappearance of his son sitting down. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean well for the rest of the George Hunter High graduating class of 2018. Which wasn't something that he necessarily needed to bring attention to.
"You've got that right, Ace. I reckon the minute they realize what's happened, my Pop'll be up in arms as loud as his voice can carry." He folded his arms across his chest, relaxing in the idea that salvation was only a few days away. Perhaps — it was an idea that felt dirty to convey, but it might make things a lot easier to say it out loud.
"With the resources he has, I don't doubt that someone'll come for us. Ain't no ends of the earth that my Pop wouldn't go to make sure we're all safe and sound. We just need to wait it out, lay low and then—"
Ivy hushed them quickly, proclaiming that she'd seen someone in the bushes. Truth, or just Ivy's way of getting the attention back on her? Connor hadn't heard anything, so of course it was a fallacy. That was just like her, of course. Always needing to be the centre of attention, be it the Prom Queen having the first dance, or the object of affection of a pair of brothers. The boys were talking, and Ivy felt left out. God, she was selfish. Leaning back against the tree, Connor looked dismissively down at her.
"C'mon, Ivy. There's nothin' out there but the rain. Anyone comin' is going to be scared, loud, and we'll see 'em from a mile out." He shot Ace a confident grin. "Or maybe y'all still have some of those drugs in your system?"
He couldn't help but admit that shutting Ivy down felt good, particularly after the stunt she'd pulled after Prom. He didn't know how Bret or Wyatt felt about the girl in front of him, but she'd violated the cardinal rule: you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. Just because they were inconvienienced enough to fall prey to a terrorist trap didn't mean that he was going to let her off easy.
It was easy enough to explain away later, after all. Ivy was his ex-girlfriend and had hurt him. Anything he said to her could be chalked up to prior trauma, and the inevitable donations in her name would erase any lingering doubt in the eyes of the public.
He had it all figured out, and he relaxed as he leaned against the tree, listening to the pattering of the raindrops on the trees and watching the forest for phantoms.
"You've got that right, Ace. I reckon the minute they realize what's happened, my Pop'll be up in arms as loud as his voice can carry." He folded his arms across his chest, relaxing in the idea that salvation was only a few days away. Perhaps — it was an idea that felt dirty to convey, but it might make things a lot easier to say it out loud.
"With the resources he has, I don't doubt that someone'll come for us. Ain't no ends of the earth that my Pop wouldn't go to make sure we're all safe and sound. We just need to wait it out, lay low and then—"
Ivy hushed them quickly, proclaiming that she'd seen someone in the bushes. Truth, or just Ivy's way of getting the attention back on her? Connor hadn't heard anything, so of course it was a fallacy. That was just like her, of course. Always needing to be the centre of attention, be it the Prom Queen having the first dance, or the object of affection of a pair of brothers. The boys were talking, and Ivy felt left out. God, she was selfish. Leaning back against the tree, Connor looked dismissively down at her.
"C'mon, Ivy. There's nothin' out there but the rain. Anyone comin' is going to be scared, loud, and we'll see 'em from a mile out." He shot Ace a confident grin. "Or maybe y'all still have some of those drugs in your system?"
He couldn't help but admit that shutting Ivy down felt good, particularly after the stunt she'd pulled after Prom. He didn't know how Bret or Wyatt felt about the girl in front of him, but she'd violated the cardinal rule: you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. Just because they were inconvienienced enough to fall prey to a terrorist trap didn't mean that he was going to let her off easy.
It was easy enough to explain away later, after all. Ivy was his ex-girlfriend and had hurt him. Anything he said to her could be chalked up to prior trauma, and the inevitable donations in her name would erase any lingering doubt in the eyes of the public.
He had it all figured out, and he relaxed as he leaned against the tree, listening to the pattering of the raindrops on the trees and watching the forest for phantoms.
Maybe Connor was right, maybe there was nothing out there and maybe Ivy was just tripping.
Literally. Drugs still in her system.
The idea seemed plausible--they had just been on drugs all night. Ivy wasn't exactly trustworthy before prom--that hadn't stopped the football team from keeping her around (probably not for the best of reasons). Ace hadn’t gotten the specifics of what happened at prom beyond hearsay and he hadn’t really broached the topic with Connor or Wyatt as he had been more occupied stealing moments and kisses with Meilin.
You picked a hell of a moment to be obsessed with moments and kisses, huh? Like you knew you bout to die so fuck it?
Judging someone on murder island based on what happened at prom seemed stupid to him, but he didn’t know, it didn’t happen to him. He had been in Chattanooga focused on Memphis and now he was on a random island thinking about Chattanooga. Even he was impressed with his ability to distract from the moment at hand. High school chisme worked as well as writing rap songs. He had done both, you do the math on how effective those coping tools were. He couldn't trust anyone, least of all himself and he hungered for direction and help.
Connor was a natural born leader, able to look a man in the eyes and convey that what he was saying was for the benefit of us.
Ivy tugged on his shorts and looked at him in the eyes--a leader in her own right. His green eyes met hers and they might as well have been open fields. He always moved quick with green in front of him.
“Chill.”
He said to Connor and to Ivy and to himself most of all. He rose his hand to note and demand silence and he stared out to the brush Ivy had pointed at. His eyes were focused and things were hard to make out in the rain.
Still he saw ‘em, peering through the storm and staring right back at him. Sullen and pale blue--enough to denote humanity but not identity. Ace spoke with a confidence befit only to the ignorant and thusly he wore it like he did his old varsity jacket.
"Hey, yo! Peek-a-boo, I see you!", he screamed out in the rain, "Step out or get to steppin'!"
Literally. Drugs still in her system.
The idea seemed plausible--they had just been on drugs all night. Ivy wasn't exactly trustworthy before prom--that hadn't stopped the football team from keeping her around (probably not for the best of reasons). Ace hadn’t gotten the specifics of what happened at prom beyond hearsay and he hadn’t really broached the topic with Connor or Wyatt as he had been more occupied stealing moments and kisses with Meilin.
You picked a hell of a moment to be obsessed with moments and kisses, huh? Like you knew you bout to die so fuck it?
Judging someone on murder island based on what happened at prom seemed stupid to him, but he didn’t know, it didn’t happen to him. He had been in Chattanooga focused on Memphis and now he was on a random island thinking about Chattanooga. Even he was impressed with his ability to distract from the moment at hand. High school chisme worked as well as writing rap songs. He had done both, you do the math on how effective those coping tools were. He couldn't trust anyone, least of all himself and he hungered for direction and help.
Connor was a natural born leader, able to look a man in the eyes and convey that what he was saying was for the benefit of us.
Ivy tugged on his shorts and looked at him in the eyes--a leader in her own right. His green eyes met hers and they might as well have been open fields. He always moved quick with green in front of him.
“Chill.”
He said to Connor and to Ivy and to himself most of all. He rose his hand to note and demand silence and he stared out to the brush Ivy had pointed at. His eyes were focused and things were hard to make out in the rain.
Still he saw ‘em, peering through the storm and staring right back at him. Sullen and pale blue--enough to denote humanity but not identity. Ace spoke with a confidence befit only to the ignorant and thusly he wore it like he did his old varsity jacket.
"Hey, yo! Peek-a-boo, I see you!", he screamed out in the rain, "Step out or get to steppin'!"
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Fuck you too, Connor, Ivy didn't say, though she thought it so loudly she thought he might hear regardless. Sanctimonious prick. It was honestly sort of funny, how willing he was to sacrifice his own potential safety for the opportunity to get one up on her. If he'd spotted something out in the rain while she'd been talking and hushed her, she'd—okay, she'd probably be kind of pissed, who was he to hush her, but at the very least she would have paid attention.
His little ramble about his daddy dearest did clear things up, a bit. He meant it. She had assumed his optimism was feigned for Ace's sake, to keep him calm, and that was probably still true to some extent. But Ivy knew Connor well enough to tell he was dead serious about his father putting on some kind of rescue mission. He thought, earnestly, that he could keep his head down for a few days and live.
She reassessed. Ace and Connor were both fucking morons, but Connor was dangerous, and she and Ace ought to get away from him as soon as possible.
Ace, for his part, was at least cognizant of danger when it was literally staring him in the face and didn't feel the need to be petty about it. Ivy restrained herself to only the slightly smug expression she shot at Connor as Ace spotted the threat in the mists before pushing herself to her feet, wincing as her rib stabbed at her side in the process.
Who was it? She couldn't see. If they had wanted to shoot they would have by now, most likely, but she certainly wasn't going to sit here and wait for the person in question to make up their mind.
If they did start shooting, well. She just had to get in front of Connor, right?
His little ramble about his daddy dearest did clear things up, a bit. He meant it. She had assumed his optimism was feigned for Ace's sake, to keep him calm, and that was probably still true to some extent. But Ivy knew Connor well enough to tell he was dead serious about his father putting on some kind of rescue mission. He thought, earnestly, that he could keep his head down for a few days and live.
She reassessed. Ace and Connor were both fucking morons, but Connor was dangerous, and she and Ace ought to get away from him as soon as possible.
Ace, for his part, was at least cognizant of danger when it was literally staring him in the face and didn't feel the need to be petty about it. Ivy restrained herself to only the slightly smug expression she shot at Connor as Ace spotted the threat in the mists before pushing herself to her feet, wincing as her rib stabbed at her side in the process.
Who was it? She couldn't see. If they had wanted to shoot they would have by now, most likely, but she certainly wasn't going to sit here and wait for the person in question to make up their mind.
If they did start shooting, well. She just had to get in front of Connor, right?
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Ivy's eyes remained on her and one of the boys, Ace, shared in the look, calling out, posturing with threat. It would be funny if it wasn't so irritating; watch him beat his chest and flex, because he was strong and worthwhile for being able to run fast with a ball. Quinn very nearly shot him then and there.
Shot at him. That was the problem. She could miss, was likely to miss, as a matter of fact, and what was next, should her bullet blow a hole through his brainpan? Connor, king of the castle, was there, and he would come after her in retaliation. He would rush at her, and with his athleticism the gap between treeline and shoe was no object. Fleeing in these conditions, which would grow increasingly treacherous, sounded no better, which left standing her ground. A bullet to the chest, what a prospect. However, Quinn would have to have perfect aim twice in a row and that would leave Ivy still to deal with. As enticing as some one-on-one time with Ivy was, Quinn had to concede that it was an impractical fantasy. Risk not worth the reward.
There were many things crammed up in her head, and the circumstances of both of her prior successes had robbed her of the opportunity to let any of them out. If she wanted a realistic chance, she needed to make good use of her existing resources, and on this occasion, that meant keeping her impulses in check, as hard as it was. Her brow creased. The idea of just leaving, letting him, them think they'd won so easily. That tasted sour, ground on her nerves. She had to remove her finger from the trigger entirely.
Quinn raised the gun to her shoulder and stared down the sights. Held it there. Imagined for a moment that she met Ace's eyes from over at the tree. I could have killed you any time I wanted, she said with the rifle.
Then, she twisted away, sprang into a low run, and was gone amidst the trees and the rain.
((Quinn Abert continued in ...we must try until it kills us))
Shot at him. That was the problem. She could miss, was likely to miss, as a matter of fact, and what was next, should her bullet blow a hole through his brainpan? Connor, king of the castle, was there, and he would come after her in retaliation. He would rush at her, and with his athleticism the gap between treeline and shoe was no object. Fleeing in these conditions, which would grow increasingly treacherous, sounded no better, which left standing her ground. A bullet to the chest, what a prospect. However, Quinn would have to have perfect aim twice in a row and that would leave Ivy still to deal with. As enticing as some one-on-one time with Ivy was, Quinn had to concede that it was an impractical fantasy. Risk not worth the reward.
There were many things crammed up in her head, and the circumstances of both of her prior successes had robbed her of the opportunity to let any of them out. If she wanted a realistic chance, she needed to make good use of her existing resources, and on this occasion, that meant keeping her impulses in check, as hard as it was. Her brow creased. The idea of just leaving, letting him, them think they'd won so easily. That tasted sour, ground on her nerves. She had to remove her finger from the trigger entirely.
Quinn raised the gun to her shoulder and stared down the sights. Held it there. Imagined for a moment that she met Ace's eyes from over at the tree. I could have killed you any time I wanted, she said with the rifle.
Then, she twisted away, sprang into a low run, and was gone amidst the trees and the rain.
((Quinn Abert continued in ...we must try until it kills us))
Ace held his hand up to silence the lot of them, and Connor couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Was Ivy actually telling the truth for once in her life? His skepticism was as large as the island they were currently held captive upon, but this was Ace; Ace got the benefit of the doubt. So they waited.
Listened.
Looked.
And nothing happened. All he could hear and see was the rain. After a moment, Connor rolled his eyes and broke the silence.
"Right. Y'all are seein' things. Much like I gathered," he leaned back against the tree, giving them surprisingly good shelter from the rain. "I think it's a smart call to be vigilant but there's a fine line between vigilance," he shot a dismissive look at Ivy, "and paranoia."
Paranoia was only wrong when everyone wasn't out to get you, and with the reputation that Ivy Langley had around their school, she was probably correct in being more than a little concerned. While yes, she'd managed to garner enough support to be Prom Queen, Connor knew that there were more than a few George Hunter High seniors who'd love to see her head mounted atop a pike, paraded around the halls of the school like a gory trophy. Ding-dong, the witch is dead, so to speak. The visual amused him, so he smirked. The smugness fell away almost immediately when he then did the second half of that mental equation and it dawned upon him just how dangerous being around Ivy might be.
"So was there somewhere y'all were looking to go, or people you were hoping to find? Not sure it makes a whole lot of sense to get out there in this rain." Connor directed the entirety of his query at Ace. He could give two shits about who Ivy wanted to find. Maybe Bret and Wyatt, he was certain they'd be thrilled to see her. Her lackey Myles, who was shockingly still alive, too. Connor had never liked Myles. Their school had a sizeable LGBTQ component to it, which was all fine by him, but Myles was the personification of a bitchy gay drama queen, and his antics were tiresome at best. No wonder him and Ivy got along.
For a moment, Connor debated the merits of trying to separate Ace from Ivy. Ace was a good kid, he had a solid heart behind him and he wouldn't hurt a fly. There was an innocence to him, an earnest feeling of seeing the world with wonder and enthusiasm. He was a popular teammate — had some skills, too. Seeing his inevitable demise next to this venomous bitch wasn't something he was looking forward to. But it would just prove too complicated, ask too many questions. Besides, if the terrorists were going to remove him from the game tomorrow, it would be easier if there was no one else around to angrily cry foul.
"Might be a good call to post up here, wait it out."
For his suggestion, he slipped on his captain's voice. Ivy would probably disagree just for the sake of it, but Ace would buy it.
Connor folded his arms across his chest. There was no doubt in his mind.
Listened.
Looked.
And nothing happened. All he could hear and see was the rain. After a moment, Connor rolled his eyes and broke the silence.
"Right. Y'all are seein' things. Much like I gathered," he leaned back against the tree, giving them surprisingly good shelter from the rain. "I think it's a smart call to be vigilant but there's a fine line between vigilance," he shot a dismissive look at Ivy, "and paranoia."
Paranoia was only wrong when everyone wasn't out to get you, and with the reputation that Ivy Langley had around their school, she was probably correct in being more than a little concerned. While yes, she'd managed to garner enough support to be Prom Queen, Connor knew that there were more than a few George Hunter High seniors who'd love to see her head mounted atop a pike, paraded around the halls of the school like a gory trophy. Ding-dong, the witch is dead, so to speak. The visual amused him, so he smirked. The smugness fell away almost immediately when he then did the second half of that mental equation and it dawned upon him just how dangerous being around Ivy might be.
"So was there somewhere y'all were looking to go, or people you were hoping to find? Not sure it makes a whole lot of sense to get out there in this rain." Connor directed the entirety of his query at Ace. He could give two shits about who Ivy wanted to find. Maybe Bret and Wyatt, he was certain they'd be thrilled to see her. Her lackey Myles, who was shockingly still alive, too. Connor had never liked Myles. Their school had a sizeable LGBTQ component to it, which was all fine by him, but Myles was the personification of a bitchy gay drama queen, and his antics were tiresome at best. No wonder him and Ivy got along.
For a moment, Connor debated the merits of trying to separate Ace from Ivy. Ace was a good kid, he had a solid heart behind him and he wouldn't hurt a fly. There was an innocence to him, an earnest feeling of seeing the world with wonder and enthusiasm. He was a popular teammate — had some skills, too. Seeing his inevitable demise next to this venomous bitch wasn't something he was looking forward to. But it would just prove too complicated, ask too many questions. Besides, if the terrorists were going to remove him from the game tomorrow, it would be easier if there was no one else around to angrily cry foul.
"Might be a good call to post up here, wait it out."
For his suggestion, he slipped on his captain's voice. Ivy would probably disagree just for the sake of it, but Ace would buy it.
Connor folded his arms across his chest. There was no doubt in his mind.
Nah--you wrong Lorenzen. There was someone out there, I saw ‘em! I know what I saw!
In another world, another body and with another mind Ace may have gotten offended or protested against Connor’s declaration of his paranoia and misguidance. Unfortunately, he was in this world and he was still Ace Ortega and all the baggage that came with it.
“I just wanna find my teammates and friends,” he said in response to Connor almost as a reflex, “Mei…,”he winced a bit at that one, “Rams.”
He thought for a moment and whispered to himself, so quiet it almost seemed like he was mouthing it.
“Tirzah.”
He wished his emotions towards that last name could be summed in a wince or be attributed simply to guilt and a wandering eye paired with an eighteen year old dick. It wasn’t the case. His friend the murderer who had murdered his friend. It wasn’t black and white. He needed to face it head on.
‘Bout that action, ‘bout that action.
He found himself grabbing Ivy by her hand and helping her sit down again--he sat down as well, though his hand remained intertwined with Ivy’s. He squeezed in support trying his best to convey: "I believed you, I saw it too!" with the sweat of his palms.
“Seems as good an idea as any…,” he said to Connor, “Y’know what this rain reminds me of? Remember that game in September? They had us back on our own 5 and you fuckin’ dropped back and hit me with a total bomb--”
The thunder crashed.
“Yeah, something like that.”
The rest of the day and the entirety of the night had gone by pretty much as you would expect--there was some reminiscing and laughter paired with some good ol’ adolescent passive aggression and general fear regarding their imminent doom. It beat trying to sleep on LSD.
He could barely get into deep sleep and was restless when it wasn’t his time to keep watch. It still was better than last night, the rain was the perfect lullaby. There was def some ‘Sounds of the Rain Forest’ vibes out here. They hadn’t dealt with any intruders, the only volatility was what naturally came with the Prom Queen and Prom King having 2Pac/Biggie level beef.
It could almost be considered a quiet camping trip, that is, until the disembodied voice of Mr. Danya broke through the sound of the heavens coming down to hell.
“Here we go again.”
In another world, another body and with another mind Ace may have gotten offended or protested against Connor’s declaration of his paranoia and misguidance. Unfortunately, he was in this world and he was still Ace Ortega and all the baggage that came with it.
“I just wanna find my teammates and friends,” he said in response to Connor almost as a reflex, “Mei…,”he winced a bit at that one, “Rams.”
He thought for a moment and whispered to himself, so quiet it almost seemed like he was mouthing it.
“Tirzah.”
He wished his emotions towards that last name could be summed in a wince or be attributed simply to guilt and a wandering eye paired with an eighteen year old dick. It wasn’t the case. His friend the murderer who had murdered his friend. It wasn’t black and white. He needed to face it head on.
‘Bout that action, ‘bout that action.
He found himself grabbing Ivy by her hand and helping her sit down again--he sat down as well, though his hand remained intertwined with Ivy’s. He squeezed in support trying his best to convey: "I believed you, I saw it too!" with the sweat of his palms.
“Seems as good an idea as any…,” he said to Connor, “Y’know what this rain reminds me of? Remember that game in September? They had us back on our own 5 and you fuckin’ dropped back and hit me with a total bomb--”
The thunder crashed.
“Yeah, something like that.”
~~~
The rest of the day and the entirety of the night had gone by pretty much as you would expect--there was some reminiscing and laughter paired with some good ol’ adolescent passive aggression and general fear regarding their imminent doom. It beat trying to sleep on LSD.
He could barely get into deep sleep and was restless when it wasn’t his time to keep watch. It still was better than last night, the rain was the perfect lullaby. There was def some ‘Sounds of the Rain Forest’ vibes out here. They hadn’t dealt with any intruders, the only volatility was what naturally came with the Prom Queen and Prom King having 2Pac/Biggie level beef.
It could almost be considered a quiet camping trip, that is, until the disembodied voice of Mr. Danya broke through the sound of the heavens coming down to hell.
“Here we go again.”
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
God, they were right there. If Connor had bothered to take half a second to look he could drop his "oh you silly kids and your hallucinogens" shit and realize they'd been in genuine danger. Eyes caught eyes for a moment, too far away to recognize, the glint of a gun barrel—and they were gone. Disappeared into the forest. They could still be there, out there somewhere, repositioning, finding a less visible spot from which to pick them off, and the thought made Ivy shudder despite its unlikelihood. If the person had wanted to shoot them, they would have. They had just been... watching. Waiting. And for what?
Most likely she would never have an answer to that, and frankly that suited her fine.
Connor wasn't speaking to her, so she didn't listen. She sat back down, close to Ace, his reply floating through her ears. Her fingers intertwined tightly with his. She wondered idly if Connor had some malformed opinion on that before realizing that she could not possibly care less if she made an effort to.
She moved a little closer, leaned against his arm. She was still so, so tired.
It was going to be a long day.
Ivy learned, fairly quickly, that the easiest way to tolerate Connor's existence was to speak as little as possible. The boys entertained each other, and their words and the endless sound of the rain washed over her like so much white noise. It was almost comfortable, in a strange way. Numb. Laying in bed, half-drunk, alone. It was familiar, if she let the specifics slip away, which she was more than happy to do.
She thought about leaving, still, in the dark of night, when it was her turn to keep watch, when she could take her things and slink off into the trees, but she knew she wouldn't make it far. Her rib ached with just the thought of it. She thought instead about emptying the bottle of bleach in her bag on Connor's face and dragging Ace off with her, and that was a more pleasant daydream, but still only that. Ace, bless his heart, would not be particularly amenable. Besides, she didn't imagine the bleach would be fatal quickly enough to keep Connor from dragging her down with him.
It wasn't a serious consideration, anyway, was it?
She slept. She took some painkillers, used a sweater in her bag as a blanket, and managed some kind of comfort. She tried to keep herself awake when Connor took his shift, but she'd already gone one night without a moment of rest. Her body couldn't keep pace with her paranoia. It was fine. Connor wouldn't consider the risk worth the reward. She knew him well enough to know.
She still woke with the distinct impression of hands around her throat.
The memory of a dream slipped past her and then it was gone.
She wrinkled her nose and tilted her head at the sky, still too tired to overthink the possibilities before the list of names washed over them.
Most likely she would never have an answer to that, and frankly that suited her fine.
Connor wasn't speaking to her, so she didn't listen. She sat back down, close to Ace, his reply floating through her ears. Her fingers intertwined tightly with his. She wondered idly if Connor had some malformed opinion on that before realizing that she could not possibly care less if she made an effort to.
She moved a little closer, leaned against his arm. She was still so, so tired.
It was going to be a long day.
Ivy learned, fairly quickly, that the easiest way to tolerate Connor's existence was to speak as little as possible. The boys entertained each other, and their words and the endless sound of the rain washed over her like so much white noise. It was almost comfortable, in a strange way. Numb. Laying in bed, half-drunk, alone. It was familiar, if she let the specifics slip away, which she was more than happy to do.
She thought about leaving, still, in the dark of night, when it was her turn to keep watch, when she could take her things and slink off into the trees, but she knew she wouldn't make it far. Her rib ached with just the thought of it. She thought instead about emptying the bottle of bleach in her bag on Connor's face and dragging Ace off with her, and that was a more pleasant daydream, but still only that. Ace, bless his heart, would not be particularly amenable. Besides, she didn't imagine the bleach would be fatal quickly enough to keep Connor from dragging her down with him.
It wasn't a serious consideration, anyway, was it?
She slept. She took some painkillers, used a sweater in her bag as a blanket, and managed some kind of comfort. She tried to keep herself awake when Connor took his shift, but she'd already gone one night without a moment of rest. Her body couldn't keep pace with her paranoia. It was fine. Connor wouldn't consider the risk worth the reward. She knew him well enough to know.
She still woke with the distinct impression of hands around her throat.
The memory of a dream slipped past her and then it was gone.
She wrinkled her nose and tilted her head at the sky, still too tired to overthink the possibilities before the list of names washed over them.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Connor didn't sleep nearly as well the second night in Survival of the Fittest as he did in the first. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from spending most of the day in the rain, or even the fact that said rain didn't let up, but the small amount of sleep he had left him feeling restless, almost anxious. Everything had gone absolutely according to plan so far.
Everything except running into Ace and Ivy.
It wasn't as though he didn't have a set of feelings towards his classmates; his friends. Ace was a buddy and a teammate and a person that in almost any other situation in the world would be a grade A person to have on his side. But the fact of the matter was that if Ace were to understand what Connor expected to happen, he would undoubtedly have questions that the larger boy knew that he wouldn't be able to adequately answer. That would both leave him with a sour taste in the mouths of anyone he knew back home when he pressed off for safety, but likely would kneecap his odds of coming out of the situation looking in a remotely favourable light.
Ivy, on the other hand... Connor had no love for his diminutive ex-girlfriend. Would he tolerate her for an evening in order to allow for some peace and quiet, a decent night's sleep? Sure. Would he jump in front of a bullet for her?
Not so much.
Ivy Langley had revealed time and again what kind of person she was, and if karma happened to at all be a real beast, it had certainly picked quite the way of punishing her for her various transgressions. He was all but certain that someone would likely relish in assisting karma with its task. Somehow, she'd ended up with Ace though, and to keep the peace, he tolerated her for the evening.
Tolerated could have almost been ignored.
He had kept conversation light in the guise of trying to stave off fear, but the truth was that he preferred not to get overly involved in any kind of deep conversation with Ace. He didn't want to lead the boy down a dark alley if he could avoid it, and eventually he would need to find some excuse to part ways. Ivy allowed for that excuse eventually, but Connor didn't really feel like arguing with her. Cameras were everywhere. Did he really need any more dirty laundry aired in public for the world to see? Ivy would play dirty, she'd use whatever she could to try and get a leg up on him, probably say things that weren't even true.
So an argument didn't seem the smart way to go about it.
That was his train of thought for the majority of his shift standing guard — how to get away. He'd drawn the last of the three shifts, so while his sleep had been sporadic and interrupted, he'd still managed at least a few hours; a far cry from the great snooze he'd had the day before with Caroline and Daria. The speakers crackled to life, and Connor blinked the daze away from his eyes as he allowed himself to listen to the announcement.
People hadn't stopped killing one another, it seemed.
He couldn't stifle the gasp he let out when Mikki Swift's name came on early as both a killer and a victim. The host of the biggest party of the last little while at George Hunter was no more.
Lorenzo Tavares had finally fulfilled the secondary part of his reign of terror. Hearing his name gave Connor a pause. The whole conversation with Erika came rushing back to him, that last night. Lorenzo had been a bad person before all of this, and he was evidently doubling-down on that reputation. The things Erika had said on the roof were—
"Oh, my God."
There was Erika's name, as well. That surprised the hell out of him. She had not seemed the type to go off and become a murderous vigilante. Tyrell, yes, and he had done so almost immediately. But Erika?
That was disappointing.
It was disappointing, but Connor's entire facade dropped at the final duo on the announcement. Regina and Caroline. Both dead, and Connor had seen both of them mere hours before. Caroline had vanished in the morning; he had done likewise, but the poor disturbed girl hadn't had a chance. She was doomed, he knew it, and so did she. But Regina — Connor hadn't put the odds on his initial group's survival very high, and when he'd left them, he'd assumed that Regina would have lasted the longest of them all. She was kind, conscientious and yet somehow, Fatty McGee had managed to continue to be alive.
He thought.
For the life of him, Connor couldn't remember his name.
As the announcement came to an end, Connor didn't say anything at all. His eyes had a faraway look; his mind raced. He just needed to stay alive. One more day. They were coming for him.
One more day.
Everything except running into Ace and Ivy.
It wasn't as though he didn't have a set of feelings towards his classmates; his friends. Ace was a buddy and a teammate and a person that in almost any other situation in the world would be a grade A person to have on his side. But the fact of the matter was that if Ace were to understand what Connor expected to happen, he would undoubtedly have questions that the larger boy knew that he wouldn't be able to adequately answer. That would both leave him with a sour taste in the mouths of anyone he knew back home when he pressed off for safety, but likely would kneecap his odds of coming out of the situation looking in a remotely favourable light.
Ivy, on the other hand... Connor had no love for his diminutive ex-girlfriend. Would he tolerate her for an evening in order to allow for some peace and quiet, a decent night's sleep? Sure. Would he jump in front of a bullet for her?
Not so much.
Ivy Langley had revealed time and again what kind of person she was, and if karma happened to at all be a real beast, it had certainly picked quite the way of punishing her for her various transgressions. He was all but certain that someone would likely relish in assisting karma with its task. Somehow, she'd ended up with Ace though, and to keep the peace, he tolerated her for the evening.
Tolerated could have almost been ignored.
He had kept conversation light in the guise of trying to stave off fear, but the truth was that he preferred not to get overly involved in any kind of deep conversation with Ace. He didn't want to lead the boy down a dark alley if he could avoid it, and eventually he would need to find some excuse to part ways. Ivy allowed for that excuse eventually, but Connor didn't really feel like arguing with her. Cameras were everywhere. Did he really need any more dirty laundry aired in public for the world to see? Ivy would play dirty, she'd use whatever she could to try and get a leg up on him, probably say things that weren't even true.
So an argument didn't seem the smart way to go about it.
That was his train of thought for the majority of his shift standing guard — how to get away. He'd drawn the last of the three shifts, so while his sleep had been sporadic and interrupted, he'd still managed at least a few hours; a far cry from the great snooze he'd had the day before with Caroline and Daria. The speakers crackled to life, and Connor blinked the daze away from his eyes as he allowed himself to listen to the announcement.
People hadn't stopped killing one another, it seemed.
He couldn't stifle the gasp he let out when Mikki Swift's name came on early as both a killer and a victim. The host of the biggest party of the last little while at George Hunter was no more.
Lorenzo Tavares had finally fulfilled the secondary part of his reign of terror. Hearing his name gave Connor a pause. The whole conversation with Erika came rushing back to him, that last night. Lorenzo had been a bad person before all of this, and he was evidently doubling-down on that reputation. The things Erika had said on the roof were—
"Oh, my God."
There was Erika's name, as well. That surprised the hell out of him. She had not seemed the type to go off and become a murderous vigilante. Tyrell, yes, and he had done so almost immediately. But Erika?
That was disappointing.
It was disappointing, but Connor's entire facade dropped at the final duo on the announcement. Regina and Caroline. Both dead, and Connor had seen both of them mere hours before. Caroline had vanished in the morning; he had done likewise, but the poor disturbed girl hadn't had a chance. She was doomed, he knew it, and so did she. But Regina — Connor hadn't put the odds on his initial group's survival very high, and when he'd left them, he'd assumed that Regina would have lasted the longest of them all. She was kind, conscientious and yet somehow, Fatty McGee had managed to continue to be alive.
He thought.
For the life of him, Connor couldn't remember his name.
As the announcement came to an end, Connor didn't say anything at all. His eyes had a faraway look; his mind raced. He just needed to stay alive. One more day. They were coming for him.
One more day.
He had never been one for lectures.
Thank God for what he had done with blocking against those shaky defenses, a good student he was not. He was often lost in his own head, thinking of imaginary conversations and hypothetical situations. You would think that the subject matter being the deaths of his friends and classmates would provoke higher mental engagement--you’d have been right, until you were wrong.
Tirzah had killed again.
He had spent the majority of his yesterday listening to the voice in the back of his mind. Thinking of how he would address Tirzah if he ran into her. It plagued his conscience exactly like the idea of running into Leblanc did. Football was a violent sport for violent men and Ace did not play it with finesse--he knew deep in his core lied a beast of physicality and instincts. When his back was against the wall, he would fight. He knew that truth and he was afraid of what it meant.
What would he do if he came face to face with Tirzah? Or Tyrell? Or Blaise? Or any of these new killers? What good would that fear be when faced with his own mortality? There was a saying, about the edge...
You didn't know where it was for sure until you went off it.
He had missed the specifics of the announcement and only could remember that he didn’t hear any names that meant more than just that. Thank God for what he had done with blocking against those shaky defenses, he didn’t fuck with many people outside his teammates and they didn’t fuck with him. The rain came down and he felt a shiver go down his spine, but what was real disconcerting was the coldness and detachedness in his heart.
Day two and he already felt the terrorist's game effect his psyche in unexpected ways. He didn’t like it, but what did he expect murder island to be? Club Med?
“This fuckin’ blows.”
Philosopher or grief counselor he wasn't either.
He looked out to the rain, grabbed his duffel bag from the ground--the downpour was constant but there was a brief letting up, the water came down like a mist. The dark cloud over the island went down to the soil, the hard rain would be back again. Ace took this as a sign.
It was time to go.
“I think we better get to moseyin’ with this lil’ break, who knows how long it’ll last.”
He figured Connor would go his own way, have his own plan--he was very polished and smart and had to have his own goals in mind. It wouldn’t be fair to him for Ace to place his own burdens on Connor’s plate, even out here. They were team...but it was just like college--going your separate ways was inevitable. Where Connor was going Ace couldn’t follow and vice versa.
“It was good seeing ya Lorenzen,” he said with a trademark smile, “I got people to find and I imagine you do as well, I don’t wanna hold you back--I know better than that.”
He placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder, as if to give the dejected teen bits of his own energy and resolve.
“Stay safe--you die out there, I’ll kill you bro, you get me?”
Thank God for what he had done with blocking against those shaky defenses, a good student he was not. He was often lost in his own head, thinking of imaginary conversations and hypothetical situations. You would think that the subject matter being the deaths of his friends and classmates would provoke higher mental engagement--you’d have been right, until you were wrong.
Tirzah had killed again.
He had spent the majority of his yesterday listening to the voice in the back of his mind. Thinking of how he would address Tirzah if he ran into her. It plagued his conscience exactly like the idea of running into Leblanc did. Football was a violent sport for violent men and Ace did not play it with finesse--he knew deep in his core lied a beast of physicality and instincts. When his back was against the wall, he would fight. He knew that truth and he was afraid of what it meant.
What would he do if he came face to face with Tirzah? Or Tyrell? Or Blaise? Or any of these new killers? What good would that fear be when faced with his own mortality? There was a saying, about the edge...
You didn't know where it was for sure until you went off it.
He had missed the specifics of the announcement and only could remember that he didn’t hear any names that meant more than just that. Thank God for what he had done with blocking against those shaky defenses, he didn’t fuck with many people outside his teammates and they didn’t fuck with him. The rain came down and he felt a shiver go down his spine, but what was real disconcerting was the coldness and detachedness in his heart.
Day two and he already felt the terrorist's game effect his psyche in unexpected ways. He didn’t like it, but what did he expect murder island to be? Club Med?
“This fuckin’ blows.”
Philosopher or grief counselor he wasn't either.
He looked out to the rain, grabbed his duffel bag from the ground--the downpour was constant but there was a brief letting up, the water came down like a mist. The dark cloud over the island went down to the soil, the hard rain would be back again. Ace took this as a sign.
It was time to go.
“I think we better get to moseyin’ with this lil’ break, who knows how long it’ll last.”
He figured Connor would go his own way, have his own plan--he was very polished and smart and had to have his own goals in mind. It wouldn’t be fair to him for Ace to place his own burdens on Connor’s plate, even out here. They were team...but it was just like college--going your separate ways was inevitable. Where Connor was going Ace couldn’t follow and vice versa.
“It was good seeing ya Lorenzen,” he said with a trademark smile, “I got people to find and I imagine you do as well, I don’t wanna hold you back--I know better than that.”
He placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder, as if to give the dejected teen bits of his own energy and resolve.
“Stay safe--you die out there, I’ll kill you bro, you get me?”
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Was it wrong, that it was easier, this time? Was it wrong that she imagined that it would only become easier, day by day, as names piled up like the bodies they represented? There were never going to be many people whose names would make Ivy's breath catch in her throat, whose presence was so immutable, so impossible to imagine life without that the sudden cessation of their existence would actually, actively hurt. She'd lost one already. She had thought, then, that it was the best-case scenario.
One dead friend.
She twisted the ring on her finger rhythmically, thoughtlessly, as the announcements went on.
Names. Names and words, barely distinguishable. Not her friends. No one she loved. She cared, maybe, still, in a distant sort of way that she couldn't afford to dwell on. What did it matter? Who was Sapphire, Kyle, Kayla to her? Names and words. Vague faces, if she bothered to recall. She tried not to. She would like to forget.
She knew Ron. She knew Tirzah. She wasn't surprised.
She knew Mikki. Not that they'd ever gotten along, particularly.
She knew Mercy.
A muscle in her hand twitched as she turned her ring one more time, and that was all.
Ace and Connor's reactions were less muted, and her eyes caught Connor's first. Curiosity, maybe. She knew Ace would be sad, Ace would be hurt, Ace cared about other people too much and that was going to weigh on his heart for the rest of his life but Connor. He was who he always was. She knew his circle of friends well enough, knew no one he loved was dead, she expected apathy and found a different kind of nothing in his face. Her eyes darted away, back into the rain, anywhere else. A less petty person might have some word of comfort. She chose to hate him instead. It was easier.
How dare he feel what she couldn't bear to?
Fifteen dead. That was all. The best-case scenario. What did that make her?
Ace broke the silence. He—wanted to leave? She looked up at him from her seated position, blinking dumbly, she had been so certain she'd have to convince him one way or another to leave Connor, or else she'd have to give up and depart on her own. From the way he spoke, though, he assumed she would follow and Connor would stay behind, and that was just fine with her, but why? He was right about the rain, of course, but saying he didn't want to hold Connor back felt like a half-truth at best. She wondered, but to pry would be to invite him to change his mind.
She might ask later. She'd like the chance, she thought, to just talk to him a while, maybe, though she imagined the world would conspire yet again to make her life difficult and have Nick or Bret crawl out of the woodwork.
"Do you know where we're going?" she asked half-sarcastically as she stood. She felt her lips turn up a touch, despite everything. Ace was many things, but a pathfinder was not one of them. Perhaps she ought to look at the map.
One dead friend.
She twisted the ring on her finger rhythmically, thoughtlessly, as the announcements went on.
Names. Names and words, barely distinguishable. Not her friends. No one she loved. She cared, maybe, still, in a distant sort of way that she couldn't afford to dwell on. What did it matter? Who was Sapphire, Kyle, Kayla to her? Names and words. Vague faces, if she bothered to recall. She tried not to. She would like to forget.
She knew Ron. She knew Tirzah. She wasn't surprised.
She knew Mikki. Not that they'd ever gotten along, particularly.
She knew Mercy.
A muscle in her hand twitched as she turned her ring one more time, and that was all.
Ace and Connor's reactions were less muted, and her eyes caught Connor's first. Curiosity, maybe. She knew Ace would be sad, Ace would be hurt, Ace cared about other people too much and that was going to weigh on his heart for the rest of his life but Connor. He was who he always was. She knew his circle of friends well enough, knew no one he loved was dead, she expected apathy and found a different kind of nothing in his face. Her eyes darted away, back into the rain, anywhere else. A less petty person might have some word of comfort. She chose to hate him instead. It was easier.
How dare he feel what she couldn't bear to?
Fifteen dead. That was all. The best-case scenario. What did that make her?
Ace broke the silence. He—wanted to leave? She looked up at him from her seated position, blinking dumbly, she had been so certain she'd have to convince him one way or another to leave Connor, or else she'd have to give up and depart on her own. From the way he spoke, though, he assumed she would follow and Connor would stay behind, and that was just fine with her, but why? He was right about the rain, of course, but saying he didn't want to hold Connor back felt like a half-truth at best. She wondered, but to pry would be to invite him to change his mind.
She might ask later. She'd like the chance, she thought, to just talk to him a while, maybe, though she imagined the world would conspire yet again to make her life difficult and have Nick or Bret crawl out of the woodwork.
"Do you know where we're going?" she asked half-sarcastically as she stood. She felt her lips turn up a touch, despite everything. Ace was many things, but a pathfinder was not one of them. Perhaps she ought to look at the map.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
So this was it, then. Connor had spent so much time thinking of a way to break off from Ivy and Ace that he hadn't even considered the possibility that they would suggest going their separate ways before he could. So when Ace stood up and declared it, Connor almost allowed his surprise to shine through. His guard was already down, shaken from the announcement and the news of whom had died, and while he'd managed to erect some of it once more, a lot more of his shields were down than he cared to admit.
One more day.
He just had to keep going. This was the third day, and everything was going according to plan.
Ace smiled at him, and it gave him the energy to put a confident smile back on his face, none of which felt even remotely authentic. Unlike most of the time when he wore a practiced smile, he knew his eyes were betraying him a little. He just couldn't conjure his usual zeal. He felt tired, fatigued in more ways than just physically.
Yet he still tried to smile, to give Ace that same hope he had on the football field when the team was down and time was running low.
"Of course. I need — I reckon Madison's still out there, somewhere."
That was the only explanation he could think to come up with. Ace thought he had people to see and places to be, and he did. He truly believed that he did. But what if those people he had to see never showed up?
He only had one answer, but thankfully it was the right one.
"You ain't holdin' me back, Ace. Y'all better never have thought that."
This was goodbye. Feeling something within himself that felt deeply unfamiliar, Connor pulled the running back in to a manly hug. Yet he allowed it to linger for just a second longer than he ever had. Perhaps Ace would understand. Perhaps he might see the one thing that Connor never wanted anyone to see.
In the end, maybe he'd forgive him.
"Same goes for you, understand? I find out you went and got yourself killed and by God, I'll bring you back from the dead just to make you run suicides to make up for it!"
He'd all but ignored Ivy to this point, but he turned to look at her. Connor knew he could say any number of things and none of them would be what he truly wanted to say, but what harm would a platitude be in the long run?
"Good luck. Y'all keep one another safe out there," his smile was artificial but his eyes had nothing behind them. Ivy was an anchor that would weigh Ace down; not unlike the valuation that Ace had planned on himself to Connor. Only one of those comparisons made sense to him. As he stood to grab his packs, Ivy barely acknowledge him and asked Ace where they were going. As he moved to head out, his thoughts went to the announcement, to Erika, and back to the others whose names he knew. Stopping, he turned to Ace and Ivy and imparted one more piece of advice.
"Look, wherever you go or whoever you're lookin' for out there — if you see Lorenzo, turn and go the other way. Trust me on that." His face was grim, his expression deadly serious. There was no put-on here. While he didn't wish Ivy any luck at all, there were some things he wouldn't wish on anyone.
"Found out a few days ago on pretty good authority that he was guilty of some pretty heinous stuff back home, so there ain't no telling what he'll do out here." Connor looked down at the wet ground for a moment, and when his head came back up, his confidence had returned, his eyes full. His swagger was back — for the moment.
"Just be careful. And y'all don't be a stranger next time you see me."
While the swagger still puffed his shoulders out, Connor observed that for the moment, the rain seemed to subside a touch. It allowed him the perfect cue to exit. Running his fingers through his hair, he flicked some rain-water away, and headed off towards the path away from the tree, leaving the running back and the Prom Queen behind.
Connor wouldn't be a stranger to them; with luck, in a few days he'd be off this island, all but a ghost to whatever was left of George Hunter's senior class of 2018.
((Connor Lorenzen continued in High Hopes))
One more day.
He just had to keep going. This was the third day, and everything was going according to plan.
Ace smiled at him, and it gave him the energy to put a confident smile back on his face, none of which felt even remotely authentic. Unlike most of the time when he wore a practiced smile, he knew his eyes were betraying him a little. He just couldn't conjure his usual zeal. He felt tired, fatigued in more ways than just physically.
Yet he still tried to smile, to give Ace that same hope he had on the football field when the team was down and time was running low.
"Of course. I need — I reckon Madison's still out there, somewhere."
That was the only explanation he could think to come up with. Ace thought he had people to see and places to be, and he did. He truly believed that he did. But what if those people he had to see never showed up?
He only had one answer, but thankfully it was the right one.
"You ain't holdin' me back, Ace. Y'all better never have thought that."
This was goodbye. Feeling something within himself that felt deeply unfamiliar, Connor pulled the running back in to a manly hug. Yet he allowed it to linger for just a second longer than he ever had. Perhaps Ace would understand. Perhaps he might see the one thing that Connor never wanted anyone to see.
In the end, maybe he'd forgive him.
"Same goes for you, understand? I find out you went and got yourself killed and by God, I'll bring you back from the dead just to make you run suicides to make up for it!"
He'd all but ignored Ivy to this point, but he turned to look at her. Connor knew he could say any number of things and none of them would be what he truly wanted to say, but what harm would a platitude be in the long run?
"Good luck. Y'all keep one another safe out there," his smile was artificial but his eyes had nothing behind them. Ivy was an anchor that would weigh Ace down; not unlike the valuation that Ace had planned on himself to Connor. Only one of those comparisons made sense to him. As he stood to grab his packs, Ivy barely acknowledge him and asked Ace where they were going. As he moved to head out, his thoughts went to the announcement, to Erika, and back to the others whose names he knew. Stopping, he turned to Ace and Ivy and imparted one more piece of advice.
"Look, wherever you go or whoever you're lookin' for out there — if you see Lorenzo, turn and go the other way. Trust me on that." His face was grim, his expression deadly serious. There was no put-on here. While he didn't wish Ivy any luck at all, there were some things he wouldn't wish on anyone.
"Found out a few days ago on pretty good authority that he was guilty of some pretty heinous stuff back home, so there ain't no telling what he'll do out here." Connor looked down at the wet ground for a moment, and when his head came back up, his confidence had returned, his eyes full. His swagger was back — for the moment.
"Just be careful. And y'all don't be a stranger next time you see me."
While the swagger still puffed his shoulders out, Connor observed that for the moment, the rain seemed to subside a touch. It allowed him the perfect cue to exit. Running his fingers through his hair, he flicked some rain-water away, and headed off towards the path away from the tree, leaving the running back and the Prom Queen behind.
Connor wouldn't be a stranger to them; with luck, in a few days he'd be off this island, all but a ghost to whatever was left of George Hunter's senior class of 2018.
((Connor Lorenzen continued in High Hopes))
For a second after Connor broke his embrace and left the two of them, Ace thought about following his quarterback.
He knew then he had made the right decision in not doing so--with how quick Connor left making him more certain. Ace would’ve followed Connor to the end of the world. They had made a pact forged in sweat and inked with blood and tears. He loved his friend and teammate, truly, and love was the death of sense. Out here it very well could’ve been death death. He trusted Connor’s leadership more than anything but he also trusted Connor to have a plan and to always be the one finishing on top of that plan.
He wanted to be with Connor, he could rely on Connor...but he couldn’t trust Connor’s goals to align up with his own and he couldn’t trust himself to have the heart to stand up to Chattanooga golden boy. Ace needed to be the leader, he needed to rely on his own instincts and gut.
Even if that meant going against his gut and listening to his head. He couldn’t trust anyone, least of all himself.
“Of course I don’t Ivy, me not knowin’ where I’m goin’ is how we ended up here in the first place,” he chuckled, “Worked out well enough though, right?”
And yet here he was, trusting Ivy Langley--probably pound for pound the least trustworthy person on the island. He trusted her because he knew she needed him--she couldn’t really trust or rely on anyone else. She had burned every bridge in Chattanooga on the way to Durham. She was mouthy and damaged and most importantly small and fragile and humbled by the situation. She needed him and he felt good to be needed. Maybe Connor needed him as well.
He would’ve died for Connor. He knew that in the way only a boy unfamiliar with the magnitude of death could know.
He didn’t think, when the coins were down, he’d say the same thing for Ivy. Doing good felt good and Ivy allowed him to do that with little investment. He held the power--even if he let her take the lead.
And he felt bad with how good that felt, he felt wrong with how secure in himself he felt by keeping her weakness and need in plain view. It wasn’t selfless, it was selfish and he knew it and he didn’t care.
He was using Ivy--he would’ve been used by Connor. He knew that in his heart and in his head.
“You take the lead, I can’t read this map worth a shit.”
Considering where he was, selfishness was an alright sin to contend with.
He knew then he had made the right decision in not doing so--with how quick Connor left making him more certain. Ace would’ve followed Connor to the end of the world. They had made a pact forged in sweat and inked with blood and tears. He loved his friend and teammate, truly, and love was the death of sense. Out here it very well could’ve been death death. He trusted Connor’s leadership more than anything but he also trusted Connor to have a plan and to always be the one finishing on top of that plan.
He wanted to be with Connor, he could rely on Connor...but he couldn’t trust Connor’s goals to align up with his own and he couldn’t trust himself to have the heart to stand up to Chattanooga golden boy. Ace needed to be the leader, he needed to rely on his own instincts and gut.
Even if that meant going against his gut and listening to his head. He couldn’t trust anyone, least of all himself.
“Of course I don’t Ivy, me not knowin’ where I’m goin’ is how we ended up here in the first place,” he chuckled, “Worked out well enough though, right?”
And yet here he was, trusting Ivy Langley--probably pound for pound the least trustworthy person on the island. He trusted her because he knew she needed him--she couldn’t really trust or rely on anyone else. She had burned every bridge in Chattanooga on the way to Durham. She was mouthy and damaged and most importantly small and fragile and humbled by the situation. She needed him and he felt good to be needed. Maybe Connor needed him as well.
He would’ve died for Connor. He knew that in the way only a boy unfamiliar with the magnitude of death could know.
He didn’t think, when the coins were down, he’d say the same thing for Ivy. Doing good felt good and Ivy allowed him to do that with little investment. He held the power--even if he let her take the lead.
And he felt bad with how good that felt, he felt wrong with how secure in himself he felt by keeping her weakness and need in plain view. It wasn’t selfless, it was selfish and he knew it and he didn’t care.
He was using Ivy--he would’ve been used by Connor. He knew that in his heart and in his head.
“You take the lead, I can’t read this map worth a shit.”
Considering where he was, selfishness was an alright sin to contend with.
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Connor spoke, and then he was gone.
Ivy frowned at his retreating back. Most of it was meaningless, or at least irrelevant to her. Platitudes. She didn't doubt that at least to some degree he was genuinely torn up about leaving Ace behind, she didn't think him entirely heartless, though she saw the blank look in his eyes again when he turned his attention momentarily to her. The specter in the woods could pop up again and shoot her in the head and Connor wouldn't so much as turn around, of that much she was certain.
Lorenzo, though. She knew the name, of course, knew him by reputation and by Myles's antipathy, but her curiosity was immediately piqued by the prospect of dirt that had somehow not previously reached her ears. He was a murderer, his name had been on the announcements and that was more than enough of a reason on its own to avoid him, but that was true of a host of people, now. What had happened back home that made him more worthy of a warning than a Tyrell or a Quinn? He didn't give her the time to inquire.
Heinous. What was worse than murder?
Maybe it was best she didn't know.
The matter didn't seem to weigh on Ace the way it did her, as he breezed past Connor's departure to return her joking over the map. She watched him, picking up the bags, pacing, smiling, handing the map over, she gave it a cursory glance before looking back at him. He seemed on edge, unstable. She thought if she told him he ought to follow Connor he'd abandon her without a second thought. He'd made a decision that sat heavy in his stomach. He was easy to push, one way or another.
She thought about saying something, about their plans, or a clever turn of phrase, or just something to take his mind off of Connor, make sure he didn't regret his choice, push him back to her side. She opened her mouth.
"Thank you."
She surprised herself.
"For staying, I mean. You could've..." She shook her head, cutting her too-direct honesty off at the pass, recentering herself, targeting her words. "I'm glad you're still here, is all."
She needed him, she knew. She was injured, her throbbing rib had reasserted itself as soon as she stood, she could hardly walk without support let alone carry her things. She was armed with what for most intents and purposes resembled pepper spray on an island where firearms were commonplace. Even setting aside personal issues she was, at this moment, near-helpless, and she hated it, she wanted to rip her broken bone out of her body so it would stop troubling her and she could at least walk away with her head held high but, but.
She had to play the hand she was dealt. She needed him, and that was why he'd stayed. She was pitiful, pathetic, and that had granted her some protection. Her pride was her sacrifice.
She looked at the map again.
"... We could go to the village," she said cautiously, tracing a path with her finger from the shoe tree. It was quite a distance, one she didn't look forward to trekking through, but. "There aren't many places with shelter, and I don't particularly want to return to the inner circle." Her nose wrinkled. "I doubt you do, either."
"We won't be the only ones seeking shelter from the rain, but... we both have people we want to find, yes?"
She didn't imagine Myles would care for staying out in the woods or whatever in this weather. She felt her fingers twitch again.
Ivy frowned at his retreating back. Most of it was meaningless, or at least irrelevant to her. Platitudes. She didn't doubt that at least to some degree he was genuinely torn up about leaving Ace behind, she didn't think him entirely heartless, though she saw the blank look in his eyes again when he turned his attention momentarily to her. The specter in the woods could pop up again and shoot her in the head and Connor wouldn't so much as turn around, of that much she was certain.
Lorenzo, though. She knew the name, of course, knew him by reputation and by Myles's antipathy, but her curiosity was immediately piqued by the prospect of dirt that had somehow not previously reached her ears. He was a murderer, his name had been on the announcements and that was more than enough of a reason on its own to avoid him, but that was true of a host of people, now. What had happened back home that made him more worthy of a warning than a Tyrell or a Quinn? He didn't give her the time to inquire.
Heinous. What was worse than murder?
Maybe it was best she didn't know.
The matter didn't seem to weigh on Ace the way it did her, as he breezed past Connor's departure to return her joking over the map. She watched him, picking up the bags, pacing, smiling, handing the map over, she gave it a cursory glance before looking back at him. He seemed on edge, unstable. She thought if she told him he ought to follow Connor he'd abandon her without a second thought. He'd made a decision that sat heavy in his stomach. He was easy to push, one way or another.
She thought about saying something, about their plans, or a clever turn of phrase, or just something to take his mind off of Connor, make sure he didn't regret his choice, push him back to her side. She opened her mouth.
"Thank you."
She surprised herself.
"For staying, I mean. You could've..." She shook her head, cutting her too-direct honesty off at the pass, recentering herself, targeting her words. "I'm glad you're still here, is all."
She needed him, she knew. She was injured, her throbbing rib had reasserted itself as soon as she stood, she could hardly walk without support let alone carry her things. She was armed with what for most intents and purposes resembled pepper spray on an island where firearms were commonplace. Even setting aside personal issues she was, at this moment, near-helpless, and she hated it, she wanted to rip her broken bone out of her body so it would stop troubling her and she could at least walk away with her head held high but, but.
She had to play the hand she was dealt. She needed him, and that was why he'd stayed. She was pitiful, pathetic, and that had granted her some protection. Her pride was her sacrifice.
She looked at the map again.
"... We could go to the village," she said cautiously, tracing a path with her finger from the shoe tree. It was quite a distance, one she didn't look forward to trekking through, but. "There aren't many places with shelter, and I don't particularly want to return to the inner circle." Her nose wrinkled. "I doubt you do, either."
"We won't be the only ones seeking shelter from the rain, but... we both have people we want to find, yes?"
She didn't imagine Myles would care for staying out in the woods or whatever in this weather. She felt her fingers twitch again.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
She caught him off guard with her gratitude for his presence.
He nodded to her but kept silent--was it worth thanking? Once he found Meilin would he be willing to give Ivy the loyalty and protection he had given her thus far out of pity? Did Meilin deserve that loyalty and protection instead? Because he had dated her for a week? Was that so smart to be getting caught up with women when the stakes were life and death? Why was he okay with being selfish in using them as emotional crutches but wasn’t okay with being selfish when it came to putting himself first?
And what was so wrong about looking out for yourself? Why did he feel more noble falling on the sword? What was the right move? Did it even exist?
He thought so.
He was doing what felt right and when he couldn’t figure that out he went with what felt good.
“I told ya, I ain’t no boy scout, you don’t gotta thank me,” he said with that well-worn but forced all the same smile, “We’re helpin’ each other. I’m glad you here too.”
He felt his heart pitter patter and wanted to slap himself for thinking about kissing her. It was made worse by the fact that he had already and could feel the ghost of her lips on his own. It was made even worser because she mentioned them having to find people--but of course she mentioned it, he had brought it up first! He hated how desperately he wished he was off the island. He hated how Ivy reminded him he wasn’t in her appearance and pained presence. He hated how she made him think of things other than death and murder with her attention and touch.
It felt good to do good.
But he also wasn’t so nuanced, it felt good for a pretty girl to look at you with appreciation. It made him think of other memories and of other times. Was that a fatal flaw? A mortal sin?
Did it matter? Out here? Dante's mortal sin had been taking a nap.
“Village sounds as good a place as any, hopefully our people have the same ideas.”
He took her hand, he could’ve sworn he felt her tremble…
“Let’s go, lead the way.”
Hate the sin not the sinner.
[[Ace Ortega Continued In: and i know no one will save me ]]
He nodded to her but kept silent--was it worth thanking? Once he found Meilin would he be willing to give Ivy the loyalty and protection he had given her thus far out of pity? Did Meilin deserve that loyalty and protection instead? Because he had dated her for a week? Was that so smart to be getting caught up with women when the stakes were life and death? Why was he okay with being selfish in using them as emotional crutches but wasn’t okay with being selfish when it came to putting himself first?
And what was so wrong about looking out for yourself? Why did he feel more noble falling on the sword? What was the right move? Did it even exist?
He thought so.
He was doing what felt right and when he couldn’t figure that out he went with what felt good.
“I told ya, I ain’t no boy scout, you don’t gotta thank me,” he said with that well-worn but forced all the same smile, “We’re helpin’ each other. I’m glad you here too.”
He felt his heart pitter patter and wanted to slap himself for thinking about kissing her. It was made worse by the fact that he had already and could feel the ghost of her lips on his own. It was made even worser because she mentioned them having to find people--but of course she mentioned it, he had brought it up first! He hated how desperately he wished he was off the island. He hated how Ivy reminded him he wasn’t in her appearance and pained presence. He hated how she made him think of things other than death and murder with her attention and touch.
It felt good to do good.
But he also wasn’t so nuanced, it felt good for a pretty girl to look at you with appreciation. It made him think of other memories and of other times. Was that a fatal flaw? A mortal sin?
Did it matter? Out here? Dante's mortal sin had been taking a nap.
“Village sounds as good a place as any, hopefully our people have the same ideas.”
He took her hand, he could’ve sworn he felt her tremble…
“Let’s go, lead the way.”
Hate the sin not the sinner.
[[Ace Ortega Continued In: and i know no one will save me ]]
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'