((Mercy Ames continued from Son of Robot))
Surprisingly enough, Madison hadn't actually kicked them out come morning. She didn't turn all cuddly overnight, but she was friendly by Madison standards. Nathan was hanging out too; Mercy had questions about how exactly that arrangement came about, but Nathan was the most harmless person she could think of. Between that and Madison getting her priorities in order (or just being too tired to be up to her usual levels), the big house felt pretty secure, even with the broken stuff in the kitchen.
They hadn't done much so far besides hanging around. The announcement had left everyone subdued, all dealing with the news in their own ways. Abel, Yuko, Toby, Dante... they were gone, and Mercy still couldn't quite believe it. She'd recognized most of the other names too, dead and... not-dead. At least in passing.
These were real people, and that was the least real thing about it to her. It shouldn't have been names that she knew. It felt like they should all be strangers, if they were going to act like that.
Mercy had taken any distraction she could get, which is why she was part of the circle on the rug, squinting at the cards in her hand and trying not to look too suspiciously at Madison, Ramsey, and Kelly while Nathan wandered around providing background commentary. Ramsey had explained the rules of Texas Hold'Em right at the beginning, but she still didn't really think she had it. Her current hand was good, she thought; at least, the cards were high. It was hard to concentrate on that when her stomach hurt.
She wasn't sure if it was something in the food, or what. Kind of felt like the time or two she'd had food poisoning, but everything she had eaten had been sealed. Maybe it was all in her head, something in her brain making her body act up out of stress. She was sure she'd gotten worked up enough over something or other to give herself a stomachache before.
Either way, she'd had to excuse herself a couple times already, as discreetly as she could. The others hadn't really asked about it much, but it was still embarrassing. Mercy had just refused eye contact with any camera lens that invaded her line of sight and did her best to pretend they weren't there. She had thought about rifling through the first-aid kit to see if there was some Pepto-Bismol or whatever in there, but stopping the game to search for medicine would just make everyone think something was really wrong, and she'd have to explain it, and then she'd be the buzzkill over what was probably just a stomach bug with really bad timing. She settled for drinking lots of water; if she thought she was going to be sick, she'd better stay hydrated.
Mercy glanced at her hand once more, then at the pile of marshmallows they were using as impromptu poker chips. They weren't going to be much of a prize for whoever won, since they were getting pushed around on the rug.
"Um, I... check? Yeah, check." Her stomach twisted, and she tried not to let her discomfort show on her face. She grabbed her water bottle in the motion that had become reflex over the afternoon, and twisted the cap off to drink.
Unicorn on the Gallows
Private! Springer Manor, day 2 late afternoon/evening
Unicorn on the Gallows
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
((Nathan Coleman, continued from Son of Robot))
Nathan was as happy as could be. He and Madison had friends to play with. He was in such a rush to go downstairs that he nearly forgot to change out of his pajamas. Smiling to himself, Nathan put on the same clothes he wore yesterday, something Mom would never let him do, but Madison would probably let him get away with it. He tried to go downstairs again but Madison stopped him; he needed to put on shoes, first. The stairs could have nails sticking up, and parts of the floor downstairs had broken glass. Madison reminded him about the mess in the kitchen, and that Nathan could get cut if he stepped on something sharp.
Of course, she was right, and Nathan didn't want to hurt his feet by stepping on something sharp, so he sat at the top of the stairs and put his shoes on, his two favorite cars next to him: a blue '57 Chevrolet with flames running along the sides, and a replica of Jeff Gordon's rainbow-colored NASCAR stock car, complete with a big yellow 24 on top. When his fingers were done fumbling his shoelaces into messy knots, Nathan snatched up his cars and hurried down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. Or as fast as they could carry him while he clutched to the railing for balance, taking each step one at a time, sure to put both feet flat on one step before trying the next.
Stairs were scary.
But now he was downstairs, everybody was awake, and they were playing some card game. Nathan loved card games! He played UNO, Go Fish, Memory and War, but had never played poker before. He begged to play, but Madison told him no, that it was a more grown-up game. Nathan was forced to amuse himself by walking around the circle of players, sometimes crawling and pushing his cars along before peering over at the game.
Nathan was as happy as could be. He and Madison had friends to play with. He was in such a rush to go downstairs that he nearly forgot to change out of his pajamas. Smiling to himself, Nathan put on the same clothes he wore yesterday, something Mom would never let him do, but Madison would probably let him get away with it. He tried to go downstairs again but Madison stopped him; he needed to put on shoes, first. The stairs could have nails sticking up, and parts of the floor downstairs had broken glass. Madison reminded him about the mess in the kitchen, and that Nathan could get cut if he stepped on something sharp.
Of course, she was right, and Nathan didn't want to hurt his feet by stepping on something sharp, so he sat at the top of the stairs and put his shoes on, his two favorite cars next to him: a blue '57 Chevrolet with flames running along the sides, and a replica of Jeff Gordon's rainbow-colored NASCAR stock car, complete with a big yellow 24 on top. When his fingers were done fumbling his shoelaces into messy knots, Nathan snatched up his cars and hurried down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. Or as fast as they could carry him while he clutched to the railing for balance, taking each step one at a time, sure to put both feet flat on one step before trying the next.
Stairs were scary.
But now he was downstairs, everybody was awake, and they were playing some card game. Nathan loved card games! He played UNO, Go Fish, Memory and War, but had never played poker before. He begged to play, but Madison told him no, that it was a more grown-up game. Nathan was forced to amuse himself by walking around the circle of players, sometimes crawling and pushing his cars along before peering over at the game.
((Ramsey Cortez continued from Son of Robot))
"Check." Ramsey popped a couple of marshmallows from his bag, one trickling down his face and hit his leg before being swat away.
This was nice. Like, all things considering. He wouldn't really call Madison or Kelly or Nathan or even Mercy real "friends", but he also never expected to be playing Texas hold'em in the middle of the murder Olympics. But as a distraction from the memories of Dante and Abel and Yuko and even Toby that came flooding after the morning announcement, it was something. That was fine with him.
It was also fine with him that Mercy wanted to stay for a bit. He needed to still find Aceito and his sister, but he didn't have to worry about them. They were strong, and God probably cooked up a plan for them to find each other at some point.
That's what he told himself, anyway. Just let the anxiety wash out with the rainstorm. His stomach was somewhat upset, but it would pass.
He took another sip of water, letting it cascade down his throat and push the marshmallows further along into his stomach.
Nathan was making his rounds again. Ramsey quickly angled his hand down and towards the floor. He didn't need a refresher for that lesson.
"Check." Ramsey popped a couple of marshmallows from his bag, one trickling down his face and hit his leg before being swat away.
This was nice. Like, all things considering. He wouldn't really call Madison or Kelly or Nathan or even Mercy real "friends", but he also never expected to be playing Texas hold'em in the middle of the murder Olympics. But as a distraction from the memories of Dante and Abel and Yuko and even Toby that came flooding after the morning announcement, it was something. That was fine with him.
It was also fine with him that Mercy wanted to stay for a bit. He needed to still find Aceito and his sister, but he didn't have to worry about them. They were strong, and God probably cooked up a plan for them to find each other at some point.
That's what he told himself, anyway. Just let the anxiety wash out with the rainstorm. His stomach was somewhat upset, but it would pass.
He took another sip of water, letting it cascade down his throat and push the marshmallows further along into his stomach.
Nathan was making his rounds again. Ramsey quickly angled his hand down and towards the floor. He didn't need a refresher for that lesson.
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Somersault
- Posts: 312
- Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 8:56 am
((Kelly Nguyen, continued from Son of Robot))
Eyebags growing and patience fading, all Kelly wanted was to curl up into a ball and preferably not come out for a couple of days. Fever dream, a restless dream, of course, an impossible one, but it was still nice, even as the siren song of sleep began calling her once more and she had to blink her eyes a few more times to ward it off.
She couldn't sleep-not now, not yet. In fact, she hadn't slept since she'd woken up on the yacht a day ago. It seemed like a day ago, at least. Her sense of time was honestly starting to vanish the longer she was awake. Still, it felt like an eternity had passed since then, that ocean view, Marco, Arjen, Juliette, a Kelly that couldn't make it through this kind of place. A Kelly she hoped was gone by now, molded into something better, something stronger.
At the very least, she was now one who didn't crumble when the names of the dead were announced. Each one, someone she'd spoken to, someone she'd known, for whatever that term meant. Dante with his animals, Felix and his magic, Beryl with her...practically everything, really. Sitting on her knees, she shifted a bit, if only to get some kind of blood flow going again.
The dryness of her throat was honestly a bit irritating, but the sensation helped her stay awake, stay focused.
"Um," Kelly started, drawing out the word to buy herself just a little more time. Smiled a sheepish smile, for good measure. It was like a faded photo, rumpled at the edges, but she hoped it was enough for the others not to worry. Poker was a game that was meant to be fun, wasn't it? "Check, right?"
Fun didn't happen when people were worried.
As much as Kelly knew that fact, though, practically enshrined within her mind, she still couldn't get her mind off of the cameras. They had been there before, been there since she'd woken up, but now, it felt as if they were able to bore into her very being, and she wasn't exactly comfortable with that. Rationally, she knew that it was probably the lack of sleep talking, but that same fatigue made her feel as though this was a time to just listen to that, for a little bit.
Nevertheless, she fastened her smile back on, no worries, no worries, saving a small nod for Nathan as he continued his rounds. Put her hands holding her hand down, just for now. A yawn threatened to force it's way out of her body, but Kelly was able to hold it at bay. There'd be time for that later. Now, though, it was time to play.
Eyebags growing and patience fading, all Kelly wanted was to curl up into a ball and preferably not come out for a couple of days. Fever dream, a restless dream, of course, an impossible one, but it was still nice, even as the siren song of sleep began calling her once more and she had to blink her eyes a few more times to ward it off.
She couldn't sleep-not now, not yet. In fact, she hadn't slept since she'd woken up on the yacht a day ago. It seemed like a day ago, at least. Her sense of time was honestly starting to vanish the longer she was awake. Still, it felt like an eternity had passed since then, that ocean view, Marco, Arjen, Juliette, a Kelly that couldn't make it through this kind of place. A Kelly she hoped was gone by now, molded into something better, something stronger.
At the very least, she was now one who didn't crumble when the names of the dead were announced. Each one, someone she'd spoken to, someone she'd known, for whatever that term meant. Dante with his animals, Felix and his magic, Beryl with her...practically everything, really. Sitting on her knees, she shifted a bit, if only to get some kind of blood flow going again.
The dryness of her throat was honestly a bit irritating, but the sensation helped her stay awake, stay focused.
"Um," Kelly started, drawing out the word to buy herself just a little more time. Smiled a sheepish smile, for good measure. It was like a faded photo, rumpled at the edges, but she hoped it was enough for the others not to worry. Poker was a game that was meant to be fun, wasn't it? "Check, right?"
Fun didn't happen when people were worried.
As much as Kelly knew that fact, though, practically enshrined within her mind, she still couldn't get her mind off of the cameras. They had been there before, been there since she'd woken up, but now, it felt as if they were able to bore into her very being, and she wasn't exactly comfortable with that. Rationally, she knew that it was probably the lack of sleep talking, but that same fatigue made her feel as though this was a time to just listen to that, for a little bit.
Nevertheless, she fastened her smile back on, no worries, no worries, saving a small nod for Nathan as he continued his rounds. Put her hands holding her hand down, just for now. A yawn threatened to force it's way out of her body, but Kelly was able to hold it at bay. There'd be time for that later. Now, though, it was time to play.
Poker was a stupid game and Madison truly couldn't wrap her head around how so many people could be addicted to it.
The rules were entirely too convoluted for her and despite Ramsey's continued attempts to explain the game, she still didn't understand what won or what cards were good. She could've had the most stellar hand in the world and would be forever blind to it. Every so often, Nathan would get excited by someone's cards and reveal them despite their chiding and, even then, Madison couldn't take advantage and cheat her way to victory because it still made absolutely zero sense to her. What did Ramsey having three Kings mean? It, obviously, sounded better than her no Kings, but what did she do with that information?
Bullshit would've been much more fun. And far more her speed.
“I'm out,” She said, exasperatedly laying her cards down on the carpet beneath them and eyeing her ever dwindling pile of marshmallows with worry, which was noticeably smaller than everyone else's. She would've been better off playing cars with Nathan.
With a sigh, she uncapped her bottle of water, taking a sip and sliding back to allow the other three more room around the rug to finish out the game. She'd been relatively quiet most of the morning, speaking only when spoken to aside from when she was alone with Nathan or when questioning Ramsey about the game, but it had been much more smoothly than she'd anticipated. Part of her had expected to find the trio gone when she woke up, bur sure enough they were still there when she and Nathan descended the stairs, talking quietly amongst themselves in the living room. There was typical awkwardness and stifled 'good mornings', but Nathan worked well as a buffer and latched on to the other three quick enough that she didn't have to interact much. Instead, she resigned herself to one of the couches for much of the morning and watched, frequently reaching into her pocket to fish out her cell-phone that wasn't there just to have something to take her attention.
The announcements subdued the group for a chunk of the morning, it's effects hanging heavy in the air. She didn't personally know any of the listed names, dead or otherwise, and had been sickly relieved not to hear Connor's name, but the affirmation that people were dying and killing was harrowing and still felt relatively unreal. Nobody talked about it, though. Nobody said anything or brought much attention to it and Madison much preferred it that way.
Instead, Ramsey pulled out his deck of cards, each emblazoned with some hip hop or rap legend, and suggested they play and she was grateful for the distraction, even if she was bad at it. And she was grateful that they all agreed to look at Mercy's cards every time she disappeared to go to the bathroom, because it was harmless fun and it was chasing everything else away. And she was grateful that Nathan hadn't questioned much, because she didn't know what to tell him.
And she was grateful that she didn't feel too sick, even if her nose was running.
And she wasn't grateful that crimson coated the back of her hand when she wiped it.
And she wasn't grateful when she locked eyes with Mercy and saw that the whites of her eyes had turned a deep red.
The rules were entirely too convoluted for her and despite Ramsey's continued attempts to explain the game, she still didn't understand what won or what cards were good. She could've had the most stellar hand in the world and would be forever blind to it. Every so often, Nathan would get excited by someone's cards and reveal them despite their chiding and, even then, Madison couldn't take advantage and cheat her way to victory because it still made absolutely zero sense to her. What did Ramsey having three Kings mean? It, obviously, sounded better than her no Kings, but what did she do with that information?
Bullshit would've been much more fun. And far more her speed.
“I'm out,” She said, exasperatedly laying her cards down on the carpet beneath them and eyeing her ever dwindling pile of marshmallows with worry, which was noticeably smaller than everyone else's. She would've been better off playing cars with Nathan.
With a sigh, she uncapped her bottle of water, taking a sip and sliding back to allow the other three more room around the rug to finish out the game. She'd been relatively quiet most of the morning, speaking only when spoken to aside from when she was alone with Nathan or when questioning Ramsey about the game, but it had been much more smoothly than she'd anticipated. Part of her had expected to find the trio gone when she woke up, bur sure enough they were still there when she and Nathan descended the stairs, talking quietly amongst themselves in the living room. There was typical awkwardness and stifled 'good mornings', but Nathan worked well as a buffer and latched on to the other three quick enough that she didn't have to interact much. Instead, she resigned herself to one of the couches for much of the morning and watched, frequently reaching into her pocket to fish out her cell-phone that wasn't there just to have something to take her attention.
The announcements subdued the group for a chunk of the morning, it's effects hanging heavy in the air. She didn't personally know any of the listed names, dead or otherwise, and had been sickly relieved not to hear Connor's name, but the affirmation that people were dying and killing was harrowing and still felt relatively unreal. Nobody talked about it, though. Nobody said anything or brought much attention to it and Madison much preferred it that way.
Instead, Ramsey pulled out his deck of cards, each emblazoned with some hip hop or rap legend, and suggested they play and she was grateful for the distraction, even if she was bad at it. And she was grateful that they all agreed to look at Mercy's cards every time she disappeared to go to the bathroom, because it was harmless fun and it was chasing everything else away. And she was grateful that Nathan hadn't questioned much, because she didn't know what to tell him.
And she was grateful that she didn't feel too sick, even if her nose was running.
And she wasn't grateful that crimson coated the back of her hand when she wiped it.
And she wasn't grateful when she locked eyes with Mercy and saw that the whites of her eyes had turned a deep red.
Madison was out, and Mercy guessed that was both good and bad. Good, because she had a better chance of winning. Bad, because now Madison didn't have much to do besides sit and glower unless she wanted to go play race cars with Nathan. Mercy would have guessed that she didn't, but she wouldn't have guessed that Madison and Nathan would be hanging out in the first place. Maybe Madison had a Hot Wheels track back at home that she was devoted to. Who knew.
"I, um..."
What now? Check again? They'd just gone over the rules a little while ago, but her head felt foggy, and she struggled to remember. She had left her sweatshirt and shoes off after waking up, and her socks had soon joined them in the pile next to her bag. She'd felt kind of exposed in just her camisole and leggings, but it was really hot and humid even with the bit of relief that being inside afforded. The heat had been no help to her cramping stomach, and as much water as she drank throughout the day, she felt like she was just sweating it right back out.
As she thought of the water, Mercy lifted her bottle to drink again. She didn't manage more than a sip before the nausea rose up once more, and this time it wouldn't be quelled.
Madison was looking at her, and surreally, there was blood running down Madison's face.
"I'llberightback," Mercy mumbled, dropping her cards and jumping to her feet.
She made it into the hallway before she doubled over and hurled, bracing herself with her hands on her knees as she heaved. The mess that came up was speckled red and black.
Behind her, the living room erupted into chaos.
"I, um..."
What now? Check again? They'd just gone over the rules a little while ago, but her head felt foggy, and she struggled to remember. She had left her sweatshirt and shoes off after waking up, and her socks had soon joined them in the pile next to her bag. She'd felt kind of exposed in just her camisole and leggings, but it was really hot and humid even with the bit of relief that being inside afforded. The heat had been no help to her cramping stomach, and as much water as she drank throughout the day, she felt like she was just sweating it right back out.
As she thought of the water, Mercy lifted her bottle to drink again. She didn't manage more than a sip before the nausea rose up once more, and this time it wouldn't be quelled.
Madison was looking at her, and surreally, there was blood running down Madison's face.
"I'llberightback," Mercy mumbled, dropping her cards and jumping to her feet.
She made it into the hallway before she doubled over and hurled, bracing herself with her hands on her knees as she heaved. The mess that came up was speckled red and black.
Behind her, the living room erupted into chaos.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"Ewwwwwww, Mercy threw up!"
Nathan pointed after Mercy and made a face. Mercy must have been very sick. She could have gotten sick from eating something bad, or by catching a cold or the flu. Nathan could not be too sure what was wrong with her, but he could be sure that Mercy vomited. He did not look at her too long; vomiting grossed him out. His howling quickly turned to laughter at such an embarrassing situation.
Mercy had dropped her cards, which were the next thing Nathan focused on. He dropped the Jeff Gordon race car onto the carpet next to his '57 Chevy and plodded over, picking up the cards to take a look at them. Everybody else seemed to.
"A, four, eight, A, eight!" Nathan read proudly. He looked up from his cards to see if anybody had noticed. He looked at Madison to see if she had noticed, in particular.
Madison had something red all over her face and hand. Startled, Nathan dropped Mercy's cards, and they scattered over his foot. His jaw opened wide and he pointed at her face, jaw quivering. "Your nose!" he said, as he realized that her nose was bleeding. "Oh no, yu... yuh, your nose!" Nathan repeatedly announced.
Nathan pointed after Mercy and made a face. Mercy must have been very sick. She could have gotten sick from eating something bad, or by catching a cold or the flu. Nathan could not be too sure what was wrong with her, but he could be sure that Mercy vomited. He did not look at her too long; vomiting grossed him out. His howling quickly turned to laughter at such an embarrassing situation.
Mercy had dropped her cards, which were the next thing Nathan focused on. He dropped the Jeff Gordon race car onto the carpet next to his '57 Chevy and plodded over, picking up the cards to take a look at them. Everybody else seemed to.
"A, four, eight, A, eight!" Nathan read proudly. He looked up from his cards to see if anybody had noticed. He looked at Madison to see if she had noticed, in particular.
Madison had something red all over her face and hand. Startled, Nathan dropped Mercy's cards, and they scattered over his foot. His jaw opened wide and he pointed at her face, jaw quivering. "Your nose!" he said, as he realized that her nose was bleeding. "Oh no, yu... yuh, your nose!" Nathan repeatedly announced.
Madison noped out of the round, which honestly Ramsey pretty much expected. Trying to drill poker rules into her head again for the twelfth time felt like drilling a hole in a concrete wall.
But that wasn't what Ramsey paid attention to. No, her nose started straight up bleeding. Haha, fucking nerd.
"You okay?" He asked, shortly before Mercy excused herself.
Ramsey took another sip of water.
He dropped the bottle at the sound of Mercy puking out a lung, red and black bile waterfalling everywhere.
Ramsey shot up, ignoring the warm wet feeling trickling down his own nose. He placed towards Mercy with a concerned look.
"Hey, you al-"
He barely made it a few steps before he purged as well, orange and black vomit spewing like a fire hose several feet away from Kelly.
But that wasn't what Ramsey paid attention to. No, her nose started straight up bleeding. Haha, fucking nerd.
"You okay?" He asked, shortly before Mercy excused herself.
Ramsey took another sip of water.
He dropped the bottle at the sound of Mercy puking out a lung, red and black bile waterfalling everywhere.
Ramsey shot up, ignoring the warm wet feeling trickling down his own nose. He placed towards Mercy with a concerned look.
"Hey, you al-"
He barely made it a few steps before he purged as well, orange and black vomit spewing like a fire hose several feet away from Kelly.
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Somersault
- Posts: 312
- Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 8:56 am
In the midst of the bleeding and the puking, Kelly looked back down at her cards, stared as if she could make a hole in them with the power of her eyes alone. Fruitless, of course. She didn't have laser beam eyes, after all.
But she had a smile she could as easily paste on like a photo to a page, and it was put right back on. Weird to smile now, cameras gazing confusedly, probably, but that's what the people right here knew her for, right? Always smiling, always cheerful Kelly. Ready to talk, ready to chat, mirror of positivity, spark of joy, spark of light, now a spark so bright it'd burn all who came near. She was everyone's friend, wasn't she?
She guessed she was currently their worst nightmare.
For now, though, all of the sounds, oddly enough, gave her a clarity of mind she hadn't felt in a while. Like the draw of a bow at the range, all the world centered on one thing, mind's eye honed in on one object, one place, or in this case, one person. They were all flailing, panicking, Madison bleeding, Ramsey vomiting, Nathan shouting, but her gaze was drawn to the figure on her knees in the hallway. Head turned, face neutral, she watched Mercy gasp for air, heaving, heart leaping for one more grasp at life.
Idly, Kelly wondered if Mercy felt the same as she did when she'd been submerged, hands grasping for the surface. It had had to come to this, right? The sprinkling of the powder in the water, face flushed and hands frenzied even in the early morning, shame and goosebumps sprouting all over like feathers. Vultures and girls needed food alike, something to sate the stomach, spoils of the damned and all, and more than that, she had to do this for her, right? Why she may have added just a smidgen more to the bottles of one G037? Finish the job that Juliette didn't.
Small, tiny, easily contained. Asian, too, but that wasn't the point. The thing was, in the end, Mercy was just like the girl who sat on that boat, the girl who got pushed in the ocean. Kelly was the girl. Mercy was the girl. Mercy was Kelly, and in order for new life to bloom, the flower would have to watch herself wilt.
Watch as droplets of red and black continued dripping from her throat, pooling in circles of sick on the floor, gagging and heaving reverberating all throughout the walls. The fight in her eyes, all before it too was snuffed, all for life, all for nothing-
Fuck it, she couldn't do this.
The flower turned to the side and began barfing up the remains of her own meager breakfast. Green, thankfully, but it made her stink all the same.
But she had a smile she could as easily paste on like a photo to a page, and it was put right back on. Weird to smile now, cameras gazing confusedly, probably, but that's what the people right here knew her for, right? Always smiling, always cheerful Kelly. Ready to talk, ready to chat, mirror of positivity, spark of joy, spark of light, now a spark so bright it'd burn all who came near. She was everyone's friend, wasn't she?
She guessed she was currently their worst nightmare.
For now, though, all of the sounds, oddly enough, gave her a clarity of mind she hadn't felt in a while. Like the draw of a bow at the range, all the world centered on one thing, mind's eye honed in on one object, one place, or in this case, one person. They were all flailing, panicking, Madison bleeding, Ramsey vomiting, Nathan shouting, but her gaze was drawn to the figure on her knees in the hallway. Head turned, face neutral, she watched Mercy gasp for air, heaving, heart leaping for one more grasp at life.
Idly, Kelly wondered if Mercy felt the same as she did when she'd been submerged, hands grasping for the surface. It had had to come to this, right? The sprinkling of the powder in the water, face flushed and hands frenzied even in the early morning, shame and goosebumps sprouting all over like feathers. Vultures and girls needed food alike, something to sate the stomach, spoils of the damned and all, and more than that, she had to do this for her, right? Why she may have added just a smidgen more to the bottles of one G037? Finish the job that Juliette didn't.
Small, tiny, easily contained. Asian, too, but that wasn't the point. The thing was, in the end, Mercy was just like the girl who sat on that boat, the girl who got pushed in the ocean. Kelly was the girl. Mercy was the girl. Mercy was Kelly, and in order for new life to bloom, the flower would have to watch herself wilt.
Watch as droplets of red and black continued dripping from her throat, pooling in circles of sick on the floor, gagging and heaving reverberating all throughout the walls. The fight in her eyes, all before it too was snuffed, all for life, all for nothing-
Fuck it, she couldn't do this.
The flower turned to the side and began barfing up the remains of her own meager breakfast. Green, thankfully, but it made her stink all the same.
“What'd you do...”
Madison's voice came out in a sharp whisper that threatened to be consumed by the beating of rain against the manor windows.
“What'd you do!?”
It was a scream now, directed at nobody but everybody, her body caving in on itself as her stomach begged to evacuate itself, though there was nothing to give. She dug her nails into the matted rug as hot bile and blood, the only gift her body had to offer, thundered forth from her. Everything hurt and everything hurt so suddenly, like someone flipped a switch, leaving her writhing on the ground dry heaving, her body shrieking for something to throw up. But all she had in her was knives. Sharp, piercing pangs that took her breath.
And anger.
Anger that she'd trusted these people. Anger that she let them in. Anger that she saw the rain and didn't force them out into it. Anger that she didn't want to.
Anger that trumped all the pain ravaging her.
Through bleary vision, tears brought on by force, she could see Mercy collapsed in the hall. A small, convulsing lump halo'd by her own vomit and she saw her future. And she heard Nathan speaking to her, spared from the fate that had befallen the rest of them, but he sounded a world away, muffled by the rain and the thumping in her ears.
And her rage was white hot as she pulled herself up from the floor, fingers digging into the old fabric of the couch, stomach burning and aching and stabbing as she wrapped her shaking hand around the neck of a Tiffany lamp.
She didn't know who did it. She didn't what they did. She didn't know if she was already dead.
But every ounce of strength she had in her went into pulling the lamp from the wall, cord and all, and barreling it at the back of Ramsey's bent over form before throwing her own body across the rug they'd been happily gathered around minutes prior and at Kelly.
Madison's voice came out in a sharp whisper that threatened to be consumed by the beating of rain against the manor windows.
“What'd you do!?”
It was a scream now, directed at nobody but everybody, her body caving in on itself as her stomach begged to evacuate itself, though there was nothing to give. She dug her nails into the matted rug as hot bile and blood, the only gift her body had to offer, thundered forth from her. Everything hurt and everything hurt so suddenly, like someone flipped a switch, leaving her writhing on the ground dry heaving, her body shrieking for something to throw up. But all she had in her was knives. Sharp, piercing pangs that took her breath.
And anger.
Anger that she'd trusted these people. Anger that she let them in. Anger that she saw the rain and didn't force them out into it. Anger that she didn't want to.
Anger that trumped all the pain ravaging her.
Through bleary vision, tears brought on by force, she could see Mercy collapsed in the hall. A small, convulsing lump halo'd by her own vomit and she saw her future. And she heard Nathan speaking to her, spared from the fate that had befallen the rest of them, but he sounded a world away, muffled by the rain and the thumping in her ears.
And her rage was white hot as she pulled herself up from the floor, fingers digging into the old fabric of the couch, stomach burning and aching and stabbing as she wrapped her shaking hand around the neck of a Tiffany lamp.
She didn't know who did it. She didn't what they did. She didn't know if she was already dead.
But every ounce of strength she had in her went into pulling the lamp from the wall, cord and all, and barreling it at the back of Ramsey's bent over form before throwing her own body across the rug they'd been happily gathered around minutes prior and at Kelly.
When Mercy tried to stand up straight, dizziness overwhelmed her. Vomit and saliva and something else welled up over her lower lip and dripped down her chin. Another pain spiked in her stomach, but she managed to stand, somewhat.
She tried to take a step, and her foot slipped in the puddle of vomit. Her stomach turned, this time with instinctive revulsion, and she staggered. Her shoulder collided with the wall, and Mercy sagged against it for support.
"Guys," she croaked, voice not rising above the din from the other room.
She knew. God, she knew. She didn't know who, but she knew what and why.
She had trusted.
Madison screamed. It hadn't been Madison. All their problems with each other, and Madison had proven to be a real friend.
Mercy's stomach lurched again, and she couldn't stop more from coming up; it was all blood and bile spotting the front of her shirt now.
"Guys..." She couldn't raise her voice enough to call for help. She didn't think anyone could help her even if they heard, but she still called out helplessly. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. Mercy slid down the wall, coming to a rest in a slumped seat on the floor. She was trembling violently all over.
She coughed. More came up. Her vision blurred, and blinking cleared away the tears, but not the red creeping in at the edges.
God, she was thirsty.
G037 MERCY AMES: DECEASED
She tried to take a step, and her foot slipped in the puddle of vomit. Her stomach turned, this time with instinctive revulsion, and she staggered. Her shoulder collided with the wall, and Mercy sagged against it for support.
"Guys," she croaked, voice not rising above the din from the other room.
She knew. God, she knew. She didn't know who, but she knew what and why.
She had trusted.
Madison screamed. It hadn't been Madison. All their problems with each other, and Madison had proven to be a real friend.
Mercy's stomach lurched again, and she couldn't stop more from coming up; it was all blood and bile spotting the front of her shirt now.
"Guys..." She couldn't raise her voice enough to call for help. She didn't think anyone could help her even if they heard, but she still called out helplessly. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. Mercy slid down the wall, coming to a rest in a slumped seat on the floor. She was trembling violently all over.
She coughed. More came up. Her vision blurred, and blinking cleared away the tears, but not the red creeping in at the edges.
God, she was thirsty.
G037 MERCY AMES: DECEASED
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"I didn't do anything!"
Why was this happening?
"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"
Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this... why was... why...
Nathan curled up in the corner with his knees tucked to his chest.
It was safer there.
Why was this happening?
"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"
Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this happening? Why was this... why was... why...
Nathan curled up in the corner with his knees tucked to his chest.
It was safer there.
Ramsey got food poisoning once, back in sophomore year.
It was some leftover chili that turned bad. Had the whole moment of hubris of "oh it's probably fine, I got a kickass stomach," too.
Except, of course, he didn't. What followed was two days of misery, desperately trying to chug Gatorade down as his whole body had a civil war. He really thought he was gonna die, but somehow he stayed strong and pulled through.
This was different. This was advanced. This was agony.
The lamp smashed into his back, sending him crashing and slumping onto the floor.
He tried pushing himself back up. But his jittery hands refused to cooporate, barely lifting him off of the floor just in time for another round of vomiting. Orange with flecks of black resurfaced, painting the floor like a Jackson Pollock.
His head hung limp, and his ballcap dropped into the puddle. He barely had the strength to roll himself away from the puddle, facing back up as excess vomit dribbled down his chin.
Screaming and shrieking filled the room. But he couldn't make out anything, only honing in on the sounds of the rain pattering against the window outside as the dizziness and the chills and the burning overtook him.
And then the world went dark.
It was some leftover chili that turned bad. Had the whole moment of hubris of "oh it's probably fine, I got a kickass stomach," too.
Except, of course, he didn't. What followed was two days of misery, desperately trying to chug Gatorade down as his whole body had a civil war. He really thought he was gonna die, but somehow he stayed strong and pulled through.
This was different. This was advanced. This was agony.
The lamp smashed into his back, sending him crashing and slumping onto the floor.
He tried pushing himself back up. But his jittery hands refused to cooporate, barely lifting him off of the floor just in time for another round of vomiting. Orange with flecks of black resurfaced, painting the floor like a Jackson Pollock.
His head hung limp, and his ballcap dropped into the puddle. He barely had the strength to roll himself away from the puddle, facing back up as excess vomit dribbled down his chin.
Screaming and shrieking filled the room. But he couldn't make out anything, only honing in on the sounds of the rain pattering against the window outside as the dizziness and the chills and the burning overtook him.
And then the world went dark.
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Somersault
- Posts: 312
- Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 8:56 am
Kelly scarcely had time to turn her head, let alone get up when Madison crashed into her, a flurry of fury bearing down on her, hot to the touch.
She could see the tears dripping down Madison's face, the fire, and it felt as though all she could do now was gurgle u[ just a little more vomit. It began dripping down her neck, slithering as it made it's way down her face, and she could do nothing but stare and shiver. Trapped beneath a soon-to-be body.
The tears, the pain, the rumbling of her stomach, all of it was enough to make Kelly want to cry too, but she couldn't, not when she'd proven herself. Not when she'd made her own bed, not when she'd swallowed herself whole to spit out something new and improved.
It couldn't end. Not like this. Not when she'd worked so hard, not when she'd thrown so much away for this, one more breath, one last gasp, left a girl lying in the hallway and more crying and retching.
Wasn't she smart? No words, but she could use her head. Figure something out, even in the rubble.
So, she did it. Used her head.
Kelly's gaze hardened, before she let out a roar, driving her head directly into Madison's face. She realized too late that she had driven her forehead right into Madison's chin, though, and for the next few moments, all Kelly could see were stars.
She could see the tears dripping down Madison's face, the fire, and it felt as though all she could do now was gurgle u[ just a little more vomit. It began dripping down her neck, slithering as it made it's way down her face, and she could do nothing but stare and shiver. Trapped beneath a soon-to-be body.
The tears, the pain, the rumbling of her stomach, all of it was enough to make Kelly want to cry too, but she couldn't, not when she'd proven herself. Not when she'd made her own bed, not when she'd swallowed herself whole to spit out something new and improved.
It couldn't end. Not like this. Not when she'd worked so hard, not when she'd thrown so much away for this, one more breath, one last gasp, left a girl lying in the hallway and more crying and retching.
Wasn't she smart? No words, but she could use her head. Figure something out, even in the rubble.
So, she did it. Used her head.
Kelly's gaze hardened, before she let out a roar, driving her head directly into Madison's face. She realized too late that she had driven her forehead right into Madison's chin, though, and for the next few moments, all Kelly could see were stars.
Darkness clung to the edges of her periphery; small, unwavering flecks of black that danced across her vision, threatening to consume it entirely. Madison didn't feel anything anymore, all the pain in her stomach lapsing and folding to give way to the burn of anger and hate. And she didn't have a plan, not when she found herself atop Kelly's small form or when her hands wrapped themselves around Kelly's neck. Her body had all the control, her impulses free to use her as they saw fit.
It could have been her.
It could have been her in a heap on the floor dead and it still could be.
For all she knew, she was dead already, spending the last of her moments with her hands around Kelly's neck and that's how she'd die. No goodbyes, no sad hugs, peace.
And it could have been Nathan.
It could have been Nathan on the floor instead. Dead because he trusted her to do what was best for him when she couldn't, dead because she was the one who let Kelly in.
And it could still be her. And when she was gone, he'd be stuck in this fucking house on this fucking island with her.
But it was Mercy. And it was Ramsey. But it could still be her and it could have been him. And Mercy was a bitch, she was bossy and controlling, but she was a leader and she didn't deserve to die in a pile of her own vomit.
Madison's grip tightened and Kelly was the only thing that existed. The fear in her eyes, fear she didn't deserve to feel, and her labored breathing and the clawing as she tried to pry Madison from her and the sick softness of her throat as the flesh succumbed to her grip. There was no plan, nothing aside from anger that beget anger.
And then the desperate fury replacing the fear on Kelly's face, like a cornered dog once Madison leaned in too close, her forehead colliding into the bottom of Madison's face with a sick, loud pop. All she could do was yelp a low, pained grunt as her hands rushed from Kelly's throat to clench her jaw that sat suddenly and brutally misaligned, teeth no long matching up.
And the pain was back, sense knocked into her. The pain of her jaw and the pain in her stomach and the nausea still tearing through her. Maybe it was clarity. She didn't feel clear-headed as she gripped at her ruined jaw. As her eyes darted to Mercy's corpse and Ramsey keeled form and at Nathan in the corner.
And it could have been him.
And it could still be her and she knew she had to get him away.
And she was already dead, had an expiration date, so nothing else that happened matter. The jaw didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. Still atop Kelly's struggling form, she weaved her long fingers into the other girl's greasy hair, steadying her head still as she brought her own down in revenge, forehead meeting forehead with a hollow thunk.
And the darkness caught up with her as she rolled off the smaller girl, clutching her head in her hands as she fought to get to her feet, barely able to hold her balance, half stumbling half crawling over to Nathan.
“Get up, get up,” she breathlessly whispered through pained groans.
Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her afloat as she pulled Nathan up by his shirt and weakly began dragging him toward the door. She didn't look for Kelly, didn't fear her retribution, because it'd be more of the same, her body existing as little more than a weapon to bring Kelly to her knees if need be. She'd do whatever it took.
Because it could have been him.
It took everything in her to open the front doors, immediately greeted by the cool storm outside, but she didn't stop, not as she stumbled in the mud and not as Nathan tried his best to get her to her feet, not as her vision cleared and not as her head throbbed or her stomach stabbed. Not when she thought about Mercy or Ramsey.
Because it could have been him and he was the one good thing she'd ever done.
** Madison Springer, girl no. 12, continued in... Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay
It could have been her.
It could have been her in a heap on the floor dead and it still could be.
For all she knew, she was dead already, spending the last of her moments with her hands around Kelly's neck and that's how she'd die. No goodbyes, no sad hugs, peace.
And it could have been Nathan.
It could have been Nathan on the floor instead. Dead because he trusted her to do what was best for him when she couldn't, dead because she was the one who let Kelly in.
And it could still be her. And when she was gone, he'd be stuck in this fucking house on this fucking island with her.
But it was Mercy. And it was Ramsey. But it could still be her and it could have been him. And Mercy was a bitch, she was bossy and controlling, but she was a leader and she didn't deserve to die in a pile of her own vomit.
Madison's grip tightened and Kelly was the only thing that existed. The fear in her eyes, fear she didn't deserve to feel, and her labored breathing and the clawing as she tried to pry Madison from her and the sick softness of her throat as the flesh succumbed to her grip. There was no plan, nothing aside from anger that beget anger.
And then the desperate fury replacing the fear on Kelly's face, like a cornered dog once Madison leaned in too close, her forehead colliding into the bottom of Madison's face with a sick, loud pop. All she could do was yelp a low, pained grunt as her hands rushed from Kelly's throat to clench her jaw that sat suddenly and brutally misaligned, teeth no long matching up.
And the pain was back, sense knocked into her. The pain of her jaw and the pain in her stomach and the nausea still tearing through her. Maybe it was clarity. She didn't feel clear-headed as she gripped at her ruined jaw. As her eyes darted to Mercy's corpse and Ramsey keeled form and at Nathan in the corner.
And it could have been him.
And it could still be her and she knew she had to get him away.
And she was already dead, had an expiration date, so nothing else that happened matter. The jaw didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. Still atop Kelly's struggling form, she weaved her long fingers into the other girl's greasy hair, steadying her head still as she brought her own down in revenge, forehead meeting forehead with a hollow thunk.
And the darkness caught up with her as she rolled off the smaller girl, clutching her head in her hands as she fought to get to her feet, barely able to hold her balance, half stumbling half crawling over to Nathan.
“Get up, get up,” she breathlessly whispered through pained groans.
Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her afloat as she pulled Nathan up by his shirt and weakly began dragging him toward the door. She didn't look for Kelly, didn't fear her retribution, because it'd be more of the same, her body existing as little more than a weapon to bring Kelly to her knees if need be. She'd do whatever it took.
Because it could have been him.
It took everything in her to open the front doors, immediately greeted by the cool storm outside, but she didn't stop, not as she stumbled in the mud and not as Nathan tried his best to get her to her feet, not as her vision cleared and not as her head throbbed or her stomach stabbed. Not when she thought about Mercy or Ramsey.
Because it could have been him and he was the one good thing she'd ever done.
** Madison Springer, girl no. 12, continued in... Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay