Ty cocked an eyebrow as Drew babbled for a bit. Maybe he had to talk himself into being comfortable in the same way Ty had felt the need to put him at ease. Neither of them seemed to want conflict, and both were at least partially aware how unusual that was in these circumstances.
He shook his head as Drew apologised, waving aside his concern for what it was he thought he sounded like. If it were only so easy to laugh at how absurd all of this was. Even as Drew closed the distance between them, Ty found it hard to muster much of a response. He’d been so used to dealing with threat after threat it was hard to even know what to do with someone who was anything but.
How am I doing? How much time do you have?
Meeting his seemingly genuine concern with wide eyes and surprise, Ty shrugged and tried his best to answer, eyes drifting slowly to the bullet hole in the wall. That tiny hunk of metal probably belonged somewhere in him, in a just world.
In a just world I wouldn’t be who I am, and I wouldn’t be here.
“It’s not a dumb question. Though like, you’re the first to ask. Guess that says a lot about you. I, uh, am pretty far from okay. Given what happened. I think I’m just coming around to the idea that like, it was me that did all of it. Not easy to think like that, for me. If I could just turn around and say ‘yeah I’m a bad guy’ I guess that’d make sense, but I don’t feel like it. Don’t really know what I’m supposed to feel like. A fuckup, I guess.”
His point of focus moved from the bullet hole in the wall to what must’ve been one in Drew’s arm. It was hard to imagine anything else that would’ve needed such care.
“What about you? You look, well, kinda fucked up. What happened? Do you-”
Of course he needs it. Look at him.
“-do you want help?”
Raw Deal
Open. Day 3, Post-Announcements.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Drew listened as Ty spoke about how he possibly should be feeling and Drew couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for the other boy. He knew that he couldn't feel sorry for someone who had killed two people and he should feel something like anger or hatred towards Ty for what he had done. But he hadn't been in the situations where Ty had killed Christine and Felix and he had been quick to judge Ty upon hearing his name on the announcement. But now that he was face to face with Ty; he didn't see a bad guy or a monster or whatever other words that other people would call him and he knew that he shouldn't be thinking like that but he couldn't help it. All he saw a troubled guy who had messed up so badly and now he could take any of it back and that he had to live with it for as long as he could.
I honestly have no idea what I am doing and now I'm even near a guy who could end my life if he wished to do so.
"I don't see you as a bad guy. If you were a bad person; I'm pretty sure that you would have beaten me with that crowbar as soon as you saw me... But you didn't and that just means that you're still a human being with remorse inside of you." Drew said simply and he was hoping that Ty didn't think that his words sounded like nonsense to him. "...Or I have no idea what the heck I'm saying and I'm just trying to cheer you up. W-Who knows...."
You're an idiot, Drew. An complete fool who is trying to have a normal conversation with someone who strangely didn't make you want to run away anymore.
…
"I got shot by Gervais because I foolishly thought that I could trust him." Drew said honestly and he winced as he didn't want to think about it. "....I don't really want to talk about it right now. Maybe I can tell you more tomorrow...? If you want me to stay, I guess. Oh... I do need help. I can't.... I can't do this alone."
Drew felt a choked sob escape out of his mouth and he turned his face away from Ty's gaze. He felt so useless, so worthless, so helpless.
I honestly have no idea what I am doing and now I'm even near a guy who could end my life if he wished to do so.
"I don't see you as a bad guy. If you were a bad person; I'm pretty sure that you would have beaten me with that crowbar as soon as you saw me... But you didn't and that just means that you're still a human being with remorse inside of you." Drew said simply and he was hoping that Ty didn't think that his words sounded like nonsense to him. "...Or I have no idea what the heck I'm saying and I'm just trying to cheer you up. W-Who knows...."
You're an idiot, Drew. An complete fool who is trying to have a normal conversation with someone who strangely didn't make you want to run away anymore.
…
"I got shot by Gervais because I foolishly thought that I could trust him." Drew said honestly and he winced as he didn't want to think about it. "....I don't really want to talk about it right now. Maybe I can tell you more tomorrow...? If you want me to stay, I guess. Oh... I do need help. I can't.... I can't do this alone."
Drew felt a choked sob escape out of his mouth and he turned his face away from Ty's gaze. He felt so useless, so worthless, so helpless.
Drew had the same kind of body language people usually adopted when they were confronted by some kind of wild animal. Delicately balancing curiosity and wariness. Ty waved aside his misgivings about what he was saying, taking on a casual tone. He was well aware there wasn't much he could do to entirely put him at ease, and didn't necessarily feel like it was incumbent on him to do so. What did they even have for one another, really? Idle conversation?
"Hey, at least you're trying."
Ty tried his best to seem friendly, but it was clear to him that Drew was suffering injuries that went beyond physical. He was meek, someone who wouldn't really make it here unless someone stuck up for him. The bandage job on his arm was clearly something he wouldn't have been able to do on his own, which begged the question as to what happened to the people who were helping him before.
Left them for some reason. Maybe they abandoned him, cut him out. What does someone like him have to contribute to a group, anyways? He's dead weight with that arm and those tears.
It made sense he'd be alone at this point, one way or another.
That made Ty feel a bit sad. This must've been what Erika had been talking about. He promised her he'd do his best.
Drew needs help.
When Drew turned away and began to sob, Ty stood up from the couch, setting the crowbar aside. He made a point of keeping a small distance between the two of them, trying his best to minimize the sizable difference in height between the two. Gingerly he put a hand on Drew's not-injured shoulder.
"You don't have to do this alone right now. You can stay. Sit down, I'll be right back."
As Drew seemed to acquiesce, Ty returned to the bedroom, walking past the bullet hole in the wall. The sheets on the bed were as purple and as dusty as everything else in the house, but aside from a few spots that looked like they'd been a hearty meal for some moths, it seemed reasonably intact. Tearing the sheets from the bed, he brought them back to Drew as well as a few hand towels from the bathroom. Setting a few aside, he took the comfiest sheet and set it on the other boy's lap.
"Here. Dry yourself off."
Ty sat down next to him, angling himself towards Drew but making a deliberate opening so he didn't feel trapped.
Any more than he actually is.
He sighed, running his fingers through his still-damp hair. After a moment, he looked back up at Drew.
"Gervais isn't someone you have to worry about anymore. I fucked him up and took his gun. Erika has it now. It was the best I could do when she said she wanted to deal with this alone. Look, my point is I'd be lying if I said you have nothing to fear from me. I'm the kind of guy who looks at other people and often sees nothing but weakness. My instinct is to pry at it, to attack it if I feel I should. That's... not something a good person does."
Producing the first-aid kit from his bag, he set it between the two of them, next to the crowbar.
"This place wasn't made for people like you or Erika. It was made for someone like me. That's why I don't deserve to survive it. I wanna do something right before this is all over. I know you need help, but I just have to hear you ask for it. Then we can get to work on that arm."
"Hey, at least you're trying."
Ty tried his best to seem friendly, but it was clear to him that Drew was suffering injuries that went beyond physical. He was meek, someone who wouldn't really make it here unless someone stuck up for him. The bandage job on his arm was clearly something he wouldn't have been able to do on his own, which begged the question as to what happened to the people who were helping him before.
Left them for some reason. Maybe they abandoned him, cut him out. What does someone like him have to contribute to a group, anyways? He's dead weight with that arm and those tears.
It made sense he'd be alone at this point, one way or another.
That made Ty feel a bit sad. This must've been what Erika had been talking about. He promised her he'd do his best.
Drew needs help.
When Drew turned away and began to sob, Ty stood up from the couch, setting the crowbar aside. He made a point of keeping a small distance between the two of them, trying his best to minimize the sizable difference in height between the two. Gingerly he put a hand on Drew's not-injured shoulder.
"You don't have to do this alone right now. You can stay. Sit down, I'll be right back."
As Drew seemed to acquiesce, Ty returned to the bedroom, walking past the bullet hole in the wall. The sheets on the bed were as purple and as dusty as everything else in the house, but aside from a few spots that looked like they'd been a hearty meal for some moths, it seemed reasonably intact. Tearing the sheets from the bed, he brought them back to Drew as well as a few hand towels from the bathroom. Setting a few aside, he took the comfiest sheet and set it on the other boy's lap.
"Here. Dry yourself off."
Ty sat down next to him, angling himself towards Drew but making a deliberate opening so he didn't feel trapped.
Any more than he actually is.
He sighed, running his fingers through his still-damp hair. After a moment, he looked back up at Drew.
"Gervais isn't someone you have to worry about anymore. I fucked him up and took his gun. Erika has it now. It was the best I could do when she said she wanted to deal with this alone. Look, my point is I'd be lying if I said you have nothing to fear from me. I'm the kind of guy who looks at other people and often sees nothing but weakness. My instinct is to pry at it, to attack it if I feel I should. That's... not something a good person does."
Producing the first-aid kit from his bag, he set it between the two of them, next to the crowbar.
"This place wasn't made for people like you or Erika. It was made for someone like me. That's why I don't deserve to survive it. I wanna do something right before this is all over. I know you need help, but I just have to hear you ask for it. Then we can get to work on that arm."
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Drew felt so tired as he sat down on the couch and he wished that he could just fall asleep forever. He knew that he wouldn't be thinking of something so morbid. Thinking about death wasn't something that he had on his mind normally and he always thought that he would die at an old age. He had been so wrong and now he knew that he would died on this island at some point. Maybe he would have to ask someone to kill him or maybe someone bloodthirsty would just take him out without him even having to ask them. Or... Or he might have to end it himself if it became too much for him to bear. He didn't know why he was thinking like this at all. He needed to forget about it as Ty was coming back with some sheets and towels and Drew felt a bit of relief overtaking him.
Drew picked up the sheet awkwardly with his hand on his good side and he noticed that Ty was now sitting down beside him, watching what Drew was doing. He realized that he had to get his shirt off somehow as it was more wet and dried with his blood on one side than his pants (Thank god for the fact that he didn't need to take his pants off and be left in his boxers in front of Ty. That would definitely not been appropriate... Ahhhhh!) and he had to somehow do it without disturbing his injured arm. Drew put the sheet back down as he was trying to use his good arm to take off his shirt and he managed to do it a few minutes later. He then started to dry his hair with one of the towels after he had put the shirt down on the floor in front of himself and he felt himself feel self-conscious with Ty's eyes on him.
Drew listened to Ty speaking to him as he continued to clean the upper half of his body as best as he could and everything felt like it was getting more fuzzy...? ….Hazy....? in his head as Ty continued to ramble on. Drew then moved the sheet up and over his chest as he still felt embarrassed about someone else seeing him like this is close range. Not even Declyn had seen him this closer without a shirt on! Okay, his mind was overreacting. He shouldn't care that Ty was looking. He has a girlfriend for goodness' sake and plus.... Ty being a killer was a problem too.
"....."
Drew was feeling too exhausted to reply to everything that Ty had been saying and he was going to try his best to respond to the important parts.
"Thank you for stopping Gervais. R-Really, I mean it. He's such an... an asshole. I wish that I could have hit him myself." Drew said weakly as he felt his eyelids drooping a little and he blinked slightly to keep himself from falling asleep, the fear of what was going on with him was becoming more clear to him. If he didn't get off this island soon, he was going to die most likely from his bad injury. Maybe...? He didn't know.... He wasn't a doctor...! "I.... Please, help me, Ty. Can you please, please help with my messed-up arm...?"
The bandages had come off a bit loosely.
Drew picked up the sheet awkwardly with his hand on his good side and he noticed that Ty was now sitting down beside him, watching what Drew was doing. He realized that he had to get his shirt off somehow as it was more wet and dried with his blood on one side than his pants (Thank god for the fact that he didn't need to take his pants off and be left in his boxers in front of Ty. That would definitely not been appropriate... Ahhhhh!) and he had to somehow do it without disturbing his injured arm. Drew put the sheet back down as he was trying to use his good arm to take off his shirt and he managed to do it a few minutes later. He then started to dry his hair with one of the towels after he had put the shirt down on the floor in front of himself and he felt himself feel self-conscious with Ty's eyes on him.
Drew listened to Ty speaking to him as he continued to clean the upper half of his body as best as he could and everything felt like it was getting more fuzzy...? ….Hazy....? in his head as Ty continued to ramble on. Drew then moved the sheet up and over his chest as he still felt embarrassed about someone else seeing him like this is close range. Not even Declyn had seen him this closer without a shirt on! Okay, his mind was overreacting. He shouldn't care that Ty was looking. He has a girlfriend for goodness' sake and plus.... Ty being a killer was a problem too.
"....."
Drew was feeling too exhausted to reply to everything that Ty had been saying and he was going to try his best to respond to the important parts.
"Thank you for stopping Gervais. R-Really, I mean it. He's such an... an asshole. I wish that I could have hit him myself." Drew said weakly as he felt his eyelids drooping a little and he blinked slightly to keep himself from falling asleep, the fear of what was going on with him was becoming more clear to him. If he didn't get off this island soon, he was going to die most likely from his bad injury. Maybe...? He didn't know.... He wasn't a doctor...! "I.... Please, help me, Ty. Can you please, please help with my messed-up arm...?"
The bandages had come off a bit loosely.
After carefully cutting them away, Ty tossed the mass of old, wet bandages aside, taking a moment to register how gnarly Drew’s gunshot wound really was.
“Holy shit.”
It was very evidently a graze, as the ragged red trench that cut across his bicep couldn’t have been anything else. An inch closer to the bone and he’d be minus an arm, no doubt. Very little new blood seemed to seep from wound as Ty removed the bandage, bad as it was. That meant it had probably clotted already. If he took it easy, it probably wouldn’t start up again.
That’s a bone right there, that white spot. Taking it easy is kind of a tall order in this place.
He knew he had to keep reassuring Drew, as that would keep him calm. Calm people lived longer. It also might have made him feel better if he didn’t seem weak or helpless to other people.
“Well, you didn’t look like a tough motherfucker when you walked in but shit, guess I was wrong. Alright Drew, trust me here, I’m checking for something.”
Leaning in with his face close to Drew’s arm, Ty sniffed at the wound. It smelled metallic and bloody, but not sick. There was no trace of the dead, septic smell he knew would have indicated an infection.
Between their two first-aid kits, it looked like they probably had enough to put a fresh covering on the wound. One of the blankets could be worked into an improvised sling. All this together would probably make Drew feel a little bit better, make him comfortable.
For what?
Someone would end up killing Drew anyways, just like with Dante. Then all of this would’ve been for nothing. A waste of supplies, a waste of energy, and a waste of time. If the path he was taking just led to more disappointment, more misery - what was the point of walking it?
I can be better than they want me to be. As good as she knew I could be. I can do this.
Ty put on a pair of nitrile gloves and quickly got to work, cleaning and sterilizing the wound as best as he could. His bedside manner probably left much to be desired, but he knew he couldn’t stop for every wince and moan of Drew’s. That would only make it take longer.
“So all I know about this shit is from watching nurses work on me. Sometimes I had to go to work on myself when I wasn’t allowed to go get help for some stuff that happened. Yeah it’s just as fucked up as it sounds, and a longer story than you wanna hear. Point is like, I’m not an expert but it doesn’t seem like it’s infected, yet. Don’t move, I’m gonna start wrapping it up.”
It was clearly excruciating to even be interacting with the injury, but Ty kept talking to try and distract Drew as much as he could, to keep him focused on anything but how much it might’ve hurt.
“You have to keep this dry, keep air from getting in to the bone there. That means we’re not going out in there for a while, unless you’ve got a death wish. Hopefully they don’t turn this place into a danger zone. When I’m done here, I’ll button it up and we can wait out the rain. I know you’re probably not up for it right this second, but if you’re serious about surviving, we’re gonna have to have a long talk about what that’s gotta mean for you and me, yeah?”
Drew seemed to nod, though he looked as if he was about to pass out. Either the pain, or the exhaustion from trudging all the way up here. Probably a bit of both.
Hopefully that’s all it is.
Ty finished pinning the last of the bandages tight around Drew’s arm, and methodically packed the rest of the supplies back into the medical kits. There was no question they’d need them in the future. Reaching into Drew’s bag, he set a bottle of water and a few rations nearby.
“Alright buddy, you’re all patched up. Drink some water, try not to move. I’m gonna fix up our little hideout here.”
A faint nod was the only response.
Good enough, I guess.
The rain outside began to intensify, beginning to sputter in from a few open windows. With a renewed vigor, Ty set about doing what he could to fortify the building. It took nearly an hour to completely cover up the windows with furniture and cloth, and to barricade both the front and back doors. The front was a lost cause - there was simply no way to stop someone from barging in if they were determined. The back seemed secure enough, and it wouldn’t be hard to force open from the inside in the event either had to make a quick escape.
With all of this done, the inside of the house was startlingly dark, save for the tiny slivers of light seeping in from the cracks in the windows and a dim red LED on the camera mounted inside the house.
Ty found a marginally comfortable position on the floor against a wall, setting the crowbar on his lap.
Just in case.
It might’ve been the visceral comfort of being indoors while rain poured outside. Maybe the feeling like he didn’t have to constantly justify what he was doing. They weren’t supposed to be here, and this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Yet still, this felt like it was where he was supposed to be. Helping someone, like he knew he wanted to. Like she knew he could. Maybe when this was all over, she wouldn’t have to feel shame at his memory.
“Holy shit.”
It was very evidently a graze, as the ragged red trench that cut across his bicep couldn’t have been anything else. An inch closer to the bone and he’d be minus an arm, no doubt. Very little new blood seemed to seep from wound as Ty removed the bandage, bad as it was. That meant it had probably clotted already. If he took it easy, it probably wouldn’t start up again.
That’s a bone right there, that white spot. Taking it easy is kind of a tall order in this place.
He knew he had to keep reassuring Drew, as that would keep him calm. Calm people lived longer. It also might have made him feel better if he didn’t seem weak or helpless to other people.
“Well, you didn’t look like a tough motherfucker when you walked in but shit, guess I was wrong. Alright Drew, trust me here, I’m checking for something.”
Leaning in with his face close to Drew’s arm, Ty sniffed at the wound. It smelled metallic and bloody, but not sick. There was no trace of the dead, septic smell he knew would have indicated an infection.
Between their two first-aid kits, it looked like they probably had enough to put a fresh covering on the wound. One of the blankets could be worked into an improvised sling. All this together would probably make Drew feel a little bit better, make him comfortable.
For what?
Someone would end up killing Drew anyways, just like with Dante. Then all of this would’ve been for nothing. A waste of supplies, a waste of energy, and a waste of time. If the path he was taking just led to more disappointment, more misery - what was the point of walking it?
I can be better than they want me to be. As good as she knew I could be. I can do this.
Ty put on a pair of nitrile gloves and quickly got to work, cleaning and sterilizing the wound as best as he could. His bedside manner probably left much to be desired, but he knew he couldn’t stop for every wince and moan of Drew’s. That would only make it take longer.
“So all I know about this shit is from watching nurses work on me. Sometimes I had to go to work on myself when I wasn’t allowed to go get help for some stuff that happened. Yeah it’s just as fucked up as it sounds, and a longer story than you wanna hear. Point is like, I’m not an expert but it doesn’t seem like it’s infected, yet. Don’t move, I’m gonna start wrapping it up.”
It was clearly excruciating to even be interacting with the injury, but Ty kept talking to try and distract Drew as much as he could, to keep him focused on anything but how much it might’ve hurt.
“You have to keep this dry, keep air from getting in to the bone there. That means we’re not going out in there for a while, unless you’ve got a death wish. Hopefully they don’t turn this place into a danger zone. When I’m done here, I’ll button it up and we can wait out the rain. I know you’re probably not up for it right this second, but if you’re serious about surviving, we’re gonna have to have a long talk about what that’s gotta mean for you and me, yeah?”
Drew seemed to nod, though he looked as if he was about to pass out. Either the pain, or the exhaustion from trudging all the way up here. Probably a bit of both.
Hopefully that’s all it is.
Ty finished pinning the last of the bandages tight around Drew’s arm, and methodically packed the rest of the supplies back into the medical kits. There was no question they’d need them in the future. Reaching into Drew’s bag, he set a bottle of water and a few rations nearby.
“Alright buddy, you’re all patched up. Drink some water, try not to move. I’m gonna fix up our little hideout here.”
A faint nod was the only response.
Good enough, I guess.
The rain outside began to intensify, beginning to sputter in from a few open windows. With a renewed vigor, Ty set about doing what he could to fortify the building. It took nearly an hour to completely cover up the windows with furniture and cloth, and to barricade both the front and back doors. The front was a lost cause - there was simply no way to stop someone from barging in if they were determined. The back seemed secure enough, and it wouldn’t be hard to force open from the inside in the event either had to make a quick escape.
With all of this done, the inside of the house was startlingly dark, save for the tiny slivers of light seeping in from the cracks in the windows and a dim red LED on the camera mounted inside the house.
Ty found a marginally comfortable position on the floor against a wall, setting the crowbar on his lap.
Just in case.
It might’ve been the visceral comfort of being indoors while rain poured outside. Maybe the feeling like he didn’t have to constantly justify what he was doing. They weren’t supposed to be here, and this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Yet still, this felt like it was where he was supposed to be. Helping someone, like he knew he wanted to. Like she knew he could. Maybe when this was all over, she wouldn’t have to feel shame at his memory.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Drew wished that he could have said that he was thankful towards Ty for helping him with his arm, but he had been too exhausted to speak and all he could do was nod at Ty's words. He hoped that he could remember all of Ty's information about what he should do and Drew felt frustrated with himself for not being smart about anything that was medical. All he could know anything medical about; is possibly anything to do with plants on this island and he had to go outside in the rain if he wanted to do that. He didn't want to do it. Not right now.
Drew felt a chill go through his fragile-like body.
His friends were out there somewhere and he felt so useless to not be able to go back out there to look for them. His arm was likely to get worse and there was nothing that he could do about it. Unless he managed to get off of the island somehow; but that was not going to happen and he knew that he had to just survive for as long as he could. He just hoped that he could find any of his friends before his time was going to be up. Drew wasn't going to sugarcoat it and he was being more realistic about his injury. Maybe he should get someone to- No, no. no. He didn't want to finish that thought and so he did not.
His eyelids were getting heavier and he somehow drifted off to sleep without any problems or nightmares to follow.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Drew felt his eyes waking up in a groggy state as he heard the voice from the speakers talking and it had made him jolt up a bit on the couch as he tried to listen to the announcement as best as he could in his sleepy mood. He felt sad as he listened to the names of the dead and the killers being listed off and one name made his heart ache and it woke him up more. Danny. Danny the captain of the volleyball team. The one that Drew was a part of and whom he had actually liked and didn't really hang out with that much. That hurt to hear that Danny was now gone and he had been a victim of Quinn who had killed someone else on the first day. Drew had already failed by not finding Danny and he felt tears welled up. He forced himself not to cry as he didn't want to be any more weaker than he already was. He continued to listen to the names, he-
Wait a minute.
Wait, no.
That name.
Erika.
Ty's girlfriend. Erika had killed someone too and from a long distance as well. It seemed like it was very calculated on Erika's part but he didn't know if that was really true and he hadn't been there to witness what had happen. He had no proof of what Erika and Desiree's actions had been and he felt more uneasy about it. Drew almost felt himself starting to panic and he realized that Ty didn't need to deal with him breaking down like a baby again.
Wait... Oh no, Ty!
Drew turned his head to look around the room and he noticed that Ty was staring at the wall with a look that make Drew worse about things. Drew couldn't really do anything to help Ty and he didn't want to move from where he was sitting. He wasn't even sure if Ty would want a hug and just a pat on the shoulder. He felt like his arm was feeling a bit numb anyway and he knew that that was going to become more of a problem for him.
"T...Ty...?"
It was all that could come out of Drew's mouth and an expression of concern was on his face as well.
Drew felt a chill go through his fragile-like body.
His friends were out there somewhere and he felt so useless to not be able to go back out there to look for them. His arm was likely to get worse and there was nothing that he could do about it. Unless he managed to get off of the island somehow; but that was not going to happen and he knew that he had to just survive for as long as he could. He just hoped that he could find any of his friends before his time was going to be up. Drew wasn't going to sugarcoat it and he was being more realistic about his injury. Maybe he should get someone to- No, no. no. He didn't want to finish that thought and so he did not.
His eyelids were getting heavier and he somehow drifted off to sleep without any problems or nightmares to follow.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Drew felt his eyes waking up in a groggy state as he heard the voice from the speakers talking and it had made him jolt up a bit on the couch as he tried to listen to the announcement as best as he could in his sleepy mood. He felt sad as he listened to the names of the dead and the killers being listed off and one name made his heart ache and it woke him up more. Danny. Danny the captain of the volleyball team. The one that Drew was a part of and whom he had actually liked and didn't really hang out with that much. That hurt to hear that Danny was now gone and he had been a victim of Quinn who had killed someone else on the first day. Drew had already failed by not finding Danny and he felt tears welled up. He forced himself not to cry as he didn't want to be any more weaker than he already was. He continued to listen to the names, he-
Wait a minute.
Wait, no.
That name.
Erika.
Ty's girlfriend. Erika had killed someone too and from a long distance as well. It seemed like it was very calculated on Erika's part but he didn't know if that was really true and he hadn't been there to witness what had happen. He had no proof of what Erika and Desiree's actions had been and he felt more uneasy about it. Drew almost felt himself starting to panic and he realized that Ty didn't need to deal with him breaking down like a baby again.
Wait... Oh no, Ty!
Drew turned his head to look around the room and he noticed that Ty was staring at the wall with a look that make Drew worse about things. Drew couldn't really do anything to help Ty and he didn't want to move from where he was sitting. He wasn't even sure if Ty would want a hug and just a pat on the shoulder. He felt like his arm was feeling a bit numb anyway and he knew that that was going to become more of a problem for him.
"T...Ty...?"
It was all that could come out of Drew's mouth and an expression of concern was on his face as well.
Tyrell continued to stare ahead, eyes trained intently on the bullet hole in the wall. Looking closely, one would've been able to see he was holding the crowbar tightly enough to drain the colour from his knuckles.
So many people had died. Ty wasn't the only one to have killed two now. Mikki, Quinn, Tirzah, Nick.
Regina. She was talented. Ty would miss her. Caroline must have lost it. Poor girl.
Ty missed not hating Lorenzo. Now he had to hate him even more, to forget how he used to feel. At least Axel and Andy were still alive.
Erika.
There was more to it. There had to be. He gave her the gun, and she put it to use.
Desiree was a wet blanket. It was a long distance shot.
There had to be more to this. Danya was twisting the truth, somehow.
Was there something he'd missed? Why would she do something like that? It was foolish. She could've just waited.
It wasn't like her. No, there had to be something else going on. Maybe it was just collateral damage.
He should've been there. Why hadn't he insisted? Now she was alone, and a target.
Why wasn't he there?
Chris and Felix. Dead for no good reason. The very first day. It had to be their fault, but he knew it was on him. They were all in the wrong place, all at the wrong time, so that excuse didn't really hold up.
That was why she couldn't stay with him. He knew what her friend's blood tasted like.
It hurt to think about. His actions. His broken soul. His teeth. His grief. It hurt a lot. Worse than anything he could've ever done to himself with a razor or recklessness.
There was a noise coming from Drew. Familiar. It was Ty's name. Not just that, a question. Implicit.
Probably because he was gripping the crowbar so hard his arms were shaking.
"I...she..."
Ty slowly turned to look at Drew.
"She wouldn't have - there had to be some sort of, you know, something more-"
Air left his lungs without carrying any more words out. Ty looked back towards the hole in the wall.
So many people had died. Ty wasn't the only one to have killed two now. Mikki, Quinn, Tirzah, Nick.
Regina. She was talented. Ty would miss her. Caroline must have lost it. Poor girl.
Ty missed not hating Lorenzo. Now he had to hate him even more, to forget how he used to feel. At least Axel and Andy were still alive.
Erika.
There was more to it. There had to be. He gave her the gun, and she put it to use.
Desiree was a wet blanket. It was a long distance shot.
There had to be more to this. Danya was twisting the truth, somehow.
Was there something he'd missed? Why would she do something like that? It was foolish. She could've just waited.
It wasn't like her. No, there had to be something else going on. Maybe it was just collateral damage.
He should've been there. Why hadn't he insisted? Now she was alone, and a target.
Why wasn't he there?
Chris and Felix. Dead for no good reason. The very first day. It had to be their fault, but he knew it was on him. They were all in the wrong place, all at the wrong time, so that excuse didn't really hold up.
That was why she couldn't stay with him. He knew what her friend's blood tasted like.
It hurt to think about. His actions. His broken soul. His teeth. His grief. It hurt a lot. Worse than anything he could've ever done to himself with a razor or recklessness.
There was a noise coming from Drew. Familiar. It was Ty's name. Not just that, a question. Implicit.
Probably because he was gripping the crowbar so hard his arms were shaking.
"I...she..."
Ty slowly turned to look at Drew.
"She wouldn't have - there had to be some sort of, you know, something more-"
Air left his lungs without carrying any more words out. Ty looked back towards the hole in the wall.
((Valerija Bogdanovic continued from A modest violet grew,))
Val'd spent the rest of day two traipsing around through the rain with Camille and Jessica, ostensibly to find Claudeson or Princess but really to find anyone but Claudeson or Princess. Camille had seemed generally unenthused, but Jessica was showing some pretty visible signs of PTSD and Val hoped the endeavor would help alleviate it.
By the late afternoon, they still hadn't found anyone. Focus turned to finding shelter. Val's helmet helped keep her head dry, which she was thankful for.
A bit after nightfall, they came upon the leadership houses. They picked the nearest one, quietly made sure it was clear, and spent the night.
It had been a long day. Val almost slept well.
They left the house in the morning, a few minutes before announcements. The stated goal of the day was finding Claudeson or Princess. The group needed something to look forward to, Val knew that.
The announcements played. They stood and listened.
Things changed.
Gina was dead.
Gina was dead.
The squad was gone. The squad was dead. Val was the only one left.
It had been an eventuality; she knew that. She just... she hadn't been expecting to have been wiped out so early. It'd only been fourty-eight hours, and she was already the sole survivor.
She'd let them down. Even before the island, she'd always let the squad down down. She'd never been there for the good times. She'd been at a dentist's appointment when they'd been playing Cards Against Humanity. She'd had the flu during prom.
She hadn't been there in the ambulance to tell Aleks everything would be okay as she went on her way to the hospital. She hadn't been there to save Abel when he was getting his face bashed in by Paloma.
While Gina was being murdered, Val'd been dancing around in the woods.
Abel and Gina were incapable of cruelty. They didn't deserve to die like this. They didn't deserve to be murdered.
There were squaddies off the island, she had to remember that. She had to hold on to the fact that they were still alive; that they were still okay.
But goddammit Abel and Gina were dead.
Val's brain went into the same mode it'd gone into after seeing Aleks's car get sideswiped.
She was done fucking around. She had shit to do.
She turned to look at Jessica and Camille. Camille didn't look like she was doing great, presumably upset over Gina.
Val frowned lightly; stoic. Her eyebrows narrowed. She inhaled. Her voice was collected, forceful, authoritarian. Maybe a bit too loud. "Trying to find Claudeson is a waste of time. We need to stop."
Val'd spent the rest of day two traipsing around through the rain with Camille and Jessica, ostensibly to find Claudeson or Princess but really to find anyone but Claudeson or Princess. Camille had seemed generally unenthused, but Jessica was showing some pretty visible signs of PTSD and Val hoped the endeavor would help alleviate it.
By the late afternoon, they still hadn't found anyone. Focus turned to finding shelter. Val's helmet helped keep her head dry, which she was thankful for.
A bit after nightfall, they came upon the leadership houses. They picked the nearest one, quietly made sure it was clear, and spent the night.
It had been a long day. Val almost slept well.
They left the house in the morning, a few minutes before announcements. The stated goal of the day was finding Claudeson or Princess. The group needed something to look forward to, Val knew that.
The announcements played. They stood and listened.
Things changed.
Gina was dead.
Gina was dead.
The squad was gone. The squad was dead. Val was the only one left.
It had been an eventuality; she knew that. She just... she hadn't been expecting to have been wiped out so early. It'd only been fourty-eight hours, and she was already the sole survivor.
She'd let them down. Even before the island, she'd always let the squad down down. She'd never been there for the good times. She'd been at a dentist's appointment when they'd been playing Cards Against Humanity. She'd had the flu during prom.
She hadn't been there in the ambulance to tell Aleks everything would be okay as she went on her way to the hospital. She hadn't been there to save Abel when he was getting his face bashed in by Paloma.
While Gina was being murdered, Val'd been dancing around in the woods.
Abel and Gina were incapable of cruelty. They didn't deserve to die like this. They didn't deserve to be murdered.
There were squaddies off the island, she had to remember that. She had to hold on to the fact that they were still alive; that they were still okay.
But goddammit Abel and Gina were dead.
Val's brain went into the same mode it'd gone into after seeing Aleks's car get sideswiped.
She was done fucking around. She had shit to do.
She turned to look at Jessica and Camille. Camille didn't look like she was doing great, presumably upset over Gina.
Val frowned lightly; stoic. Her eyebrows narrowed. She inhaled. Her voice was collected, forceful, authoritarian. Maybe a bit too loud. "Trying to find Claudeson is a waste of time. We need to stop."
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
((Camille Bellegarde continued from A Modest Violet Grew.))
Camille had never known words to physically hurt before. But, in addition to the emotional pain, hearing that Regina had died hurt her physically. Like the wind had just been knocked out of her. Like she'd just been stabbed in the chest and kicked in the stomach and had her fingernails torn off all at the same time. It took her a second to return to her senses, and by then Val was speaking again. Val would have been hurt too by Gina's death.
Camille nodded. She agreed with Val. It was a shame that they hadn't really hung out before. They had a mutual friend, after all. Their thoughts right now showed a commonality of instinct that, under other circumstances, might well have led them to being friends in their own right. Normal friends, that is. Not a 'forced to coexist together in a terrible death game' type of friendship.
"Val's right," Camille replied, feeling a degree of anger that she knew shouldn't be aimed at Jessica and her hopeless desire to find Claudeson, but that she knew might end up targeted in that direction anyway. She managed to keep her voice even and her body language composed, but she couldn't stop the scowl that, in lieu of tears, broke out on her face.
"We should be spending that time, perhaps, implementing some actual strategy to help people." Camille was a sceptic of the efficacy of those strategies, but she did believe it was worthwhile to attempt them. And sooner, when they were in the position to do the most good, rather than later. Reduce the rate of killing, buy some time. And that lofty ambition had been completely abandoned by the wayside.
"Or looking for people that..." We actually care about? No, that was too harsh. Camille did care for Claudeson. He was a fundamentally decent person. But there were people she wanted to see more. And with the list of people she'd never reunite with mounting up...Dante, Regina...it was getting urgent. "Looking for people that actually want us to find them."
Camille had never known words to physically hurt before. But, in addition to the emotional pain, hearing that Regina had died hurt her physically. Like the wind had just been knocked out of her. Like she'd just been stabbed in the chest and kicked in the stomach and had her fingernails torn off all at the same time. It took her a second to return to her senses, and by then Val was speaking again. Val would have been hurt too by Gina's death.
Camille nodded. She agreed with Val. It was a shame that they hadn't really hung out before. They had a mutual friend, after all. Their thoughts right now showed a commonality of instinct that, under other circumstances, might well have led them to being friends in their own right. Normal friends, that is. Not a 'forced to coexist together in a terrible death game' type of friendship.
"Val's right," Camille replied, feeling a degree of anger that she knew shouldn't be aimed at Jessica and her hopeless desire to find Claudeson, but that she knew might end up targeted in that direction anyway. She managed to keep her voice even and her body language composed, but she couldn't stop the scowl that, in lieu of tears, broke out on her face.
"We should be spending that time, perhaps, implementing some actual strategy to help people." Camille was a sceptic of the efficacy of those strategies, but she did believe it was worthwhile to attempt them. And sooner, when they were in the position to do the most good, rather than later. Reduce the rate of killing, buy some time. And that lofty ambition had been completely abandoned by the wayside.
"Or looking for people that..." We actually care about? No, that was too harsh. Camille did care for Claudeson. He was a fundamentally decent person. But there were people she wanted to see more. And with the list of people she'd never reunite with mounting up...Dante, Regina...it was getting urgent. "Looking for people that actually want us to find them."
((Jessica Rennes continued from a modest violet grew,))
The thing was, Jessica agreed with Val and Camille. At some point, during lunch the previous day and going to sleep the previous night, Jessica had come to terms with the fact that there was a very good chance that they would never see Claudeson again. She didn't want it to be true, of course - she wanted it to be true less than anything, in fact. But everything just came back to the silly decisions she made on the first day, and how it made her feel terrible to know that there was anything she could have done to stop them from coming to pass, it all coming back to Christine. But at the end of the day, she'd figured it out. Before Val and Camille had said so, she'd begun to realize that if Claudeson didn't want to be followed, and they couldn't follow him, then there was no reason to keep going.
And that was why Jessica wanted to keep going. She didn't want to be the bad guy of the group, the one who made them travel so far for so long on a mission that was ultimately against good sense. If it was a failure, if it was all pointless, then it was her fault. She wanted to find Claudeson still, even if it was against good sense.
That wasn't the only person she wanted to find, of course. Christina and Stephanie were still alive. But she needed closure on the impossible task she'd sent the group on, because that was all she could do right now.
What they were doing right that very second, of course, was standing beneath the edge of a house roof to escape the rain. Jessica was no stranger to all-encompasing wetness, seeing as though there were times she felt as though she would never be dry from the waterfall, but it didn't mean she wanted to live there.
She shook her head to both Valerija and Camille's statements, arms tucked into herself and not looking at either of them. When Camille finished, Jessica pushed past the two towards the nearest door of the house.
"Can we just get out of the rain and not talk about thi-"
As she made it into the domicile, away from the constant spritz, she realized the house was occupied. She saw one person on the room's sofa, and another by the wall. She racked her brain trying to place names to faces, and could only do so for the boy by the wall.
All the air left her lungs. She rasped.
The thing was, Jessica agreed with Val and Camille. At some point, during lunch the previous day and going to sleep the previous night, Jessica had come to terms with the fact that there was a very good chance that they would never see Claudeson again. She didn't want it to be true, of course - she wanted it to be true less than anything, in fact. But everything just came back to the silly decisions she made on the first day, and how it made her feel terrible to know that there was anything she could have done to stop them from coming to pass, it all coming back to Christine. But at the end of the day, she'd figured it out. Before Val and Camille had said so, she'd begun to realize that if Claudeson didn't want to be followed, and they couldn't follow him, then there was no reason to keep going.
And that was why Jessica wanted to keep going. She didn't want to be the bad guy of the group, the one who made them travel so far for so long on a mission that was ultimately against good sense. If it was a failure, if it was all pointless, then it was her fault. She wanted to find Claudeson still, even if it was against good sense.
That wasn't the only person she wanted to find, of course. Christina and Stephanie were still alive. But she needed closure on the impossible task she'd sent the group on, because that was all she could do right now.
What they were doing right that very second, of course, was standing beneath the edge of a house roof to escape the rain. Jessica was no stranger to all-encompasing wetness, seeing as though there were times she felt as though she would never be dry from the waterfall, but it didn't mean she wanted to live there.
She shook her head to both Valerija and Camille's statements, arms tucked into herself and not looking at either of them. When Camille finished, Jessica pushed past the two towards the nearest door of the house.
"Can we just get out of the rain and not talk about thi-"
As she made it into the domicile, away from the constant spritz, she realized the house was occupied. She saw one person on the room's sofa, and another by the wall. She racked her brain trying to place names to faces, and could only do so for the boy by the wall.
All the air left her lungs. She rasped.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Drew couldn't even think of what to say to Ty. How was he supposed to comfort a guy who was clearly in denial over his girlfriend's actions? Her action of taking someone else's life just like that and the thought of it was a terrifying thing for Drew to even think about. What was he supposed to do? Should he go over to Ty and give him a hug? What if that was not what Ty wanted? Would it be better to leave him alone to get out of his state of disbelief? Drew wasn't good at comforting others and he felt really bad for Ty. It was obvious that Erika killed that girl was not part of Ty's goal here and Drew wondered if he should just go over to the poor guy already. He had to do something. He had to speak up and stop being too afraid to stand up for someone else.
"Ty, about Erika. I-"
Before Drew could say anymore, a girl suddenly came into view and Drew realized with guilt that he didn't know who she was. Not only that, she seemed to recognize Ty and it looked like she was scared of Ty. Drew was hoping that this was not about to escalate into something more violent and he knew that he had to stop her from getting closer to Ty. Not that she looked like she was. Drew's brain was getting into a fuzzy set of mind and he gulped nervously.
Move your butt, Drew! Don't just sit there! Do something! Anything!
Drew pushed himself up slowly from the couch and he was wobbling a little, trying to get his legs to wake up more. The sheet had now fallen onto the ground forgotten, his shirtlessness was forgotten as well and he felt himself moving without any real control. He stepped in front of Ty and he raised his good hand towards the girl, as if he was trying to protect Ty. Him...? A protector...? He could never be that, but...
"Wait, please! We don't want any trouble. Ty's not doing good right now and I don't want this to escalate into something worse." Drew said in a shaky voice to the girl and he didn't even realize that he was trembling a little. "He's not a bad person, please…"
"Ty, about Erika. I-"
Before Drew could say anymore, a girl suddenly came into view and Drew realized with guilt that he didn't know who she was. Not only that, she seemed to recognize Ty and it looked like she was scared of Ty. Drew was hoping that this was not about to escalate into something more violent and he knew that he had to stop her from getting closer to Ty. Not that she looked like she was. Drew's brain was getting into a fuzzy set of mind and he gulped nervously.
Move your butt, Drew! Don't just sit there! Do something! Anything!
Drew pushed himself up slowly from the couch and he was wobbling a little, trying to get his legs to wake up more. The sheet had now fallen onto the ground forgotten, his shirtlessness was forgotten as well and he felt himself moving without any real control. He stepped in front of Ty and he raised his good hand towards the girl, as if he was trying to protect Ty. Him...? A protector...? He could never be that, but...
"Wait, please! We don't want any trouble. Ty's not doing good right now and I don't want this to escalate into something worse." Drew said in a shaky voice to the girl and he didn't even realize that he was trembling a little. "He's not a bad person, please…"
What a good dude.
Maybe not the brightest, but his heart was in the right place. It was hard to imagine anyone could say Ty wasn't a bad person with a straight face.
It was kind of funny, wasn't it?
A smile didn't quite make its way onto his face, collapsing halfway as he failed to grasp the old cynical part of himself that might've made fun of Drew.
He finally let go of the crowbar, and let it slide off to the side of his leg.
It was hard to tear his eyes from the hole in the wall. Harder still to force his thoughts all the way back into the present. For Drew's sake, he tried his best.
He glanced up towards the trio at the now-open door. Three girls, none of them visibly armed. That didn't preclude a gun hidden away in a bag or a pocket, but if it was there then it wasn't close enough to stop him if he had to.
Ty didn't have to.
They seemed more scared of him than anything. If they were hunting him, it would've been obvious by now. Their source of confidence in doing so would've been apparent. No, they just wandered in.
Ty turned his head up to Drew, speaking with a level tone. Confusion and anguish sapped the desire to be anything but direct.
"Drew? Drew. You can't protect me, don't try. Sit down, it's alright."
Leaning forward slightly, he met the gaze of the girl who entered. She hadn't looked anywhere else since stepping in.
Stoic though glassy eyed, he addressed the newcomers.
"What do you want?"
Maybe not the brightest, but his heart was in the right place. It was hard to imagine anyone could say Ty wasn't a bad person with a straight face.
It was kind of funny, wasn't it?
A smile didn't quite make its way onto his face, collapsing halfway as he failed to grasp the old cynical part of himself that might've made fun of Drew.
He finally let go of the crowbar, and let it slide off to the side of his leg.
It was hard to tear his eyes from the hole in the wall. Harder still to force his thoughts all the way back into the present. For Drew's sake, he tried his best.
He glanced up towards the trio at the now-open door. Three girls, none of them visibly armed. That didn't preclude a gun hidden away in a bag or a pocket, but if it was there then it wasn't close enough to stop him if he had to.
Ty didn't have to.
They seemed more scared of him than anything. If they were hunting him, it would've been obvious by now. Their source of confidence in doing so would've been apparent. No, they just wandered in.
Ty turned his head up to Drew, speaking with a level tone. Confusion and anguish sapped the desire to be anything but direct.
"Drew? Drew. You can't protect me, don't try. Sit down, it's alright."
Leaning forward slightly, he met the gaze of the girl who entered. She hadn't looked anywhere else since stepping in.
Stoic though glassy eyed, he addressed the newcomers.
"What do you want?"
Camille had agreed with Val; suggested they try finding people they cared about. Val didn't have many of those left on the island. She was willing settle for any people right now.
Jessica said she wanted to get out of the rain and then disappeared through the house's doorway. Val made a >:C face. She now understood why some parents bought leashes for their children.
She watched as Jessica froze. Generally a not a great sign. She heard a male voice; saw a shirtless boy.
She heard Ty's name; saw Ty; heard Ty's voice.
Well, shoot.
Actually, maybe this wasn't that bad. Ty wasn't alone; that meant he wasn't killing everybody. Ty wasn't doing too good; that meant he was in a crisis, mental or physical or both.
A crisis for him meant an opportunity for her. She'd learned her lesson about not acting strategically.
STILL THOUGH, in case Ty was killing everyone except the shirtless boy, it'd be best to be cautious. She briefly made eye contact with Ty, raised her left eyebrow, and pursed her lips. Then, she sidestepped out of view from the building's occupants and turned around, her back against the wall outside. Jessica was already inside; she'd basically volunteered herself into being the scout.
She looked over to Camille. "Wait. Wall." she whispered. "Door's a chokepoint. If we all go in at once and they shoot, we all die. Jessica, talk to them. Don't mention Claude yet. Assess."
Jessica said she wanted to get out of the rain and then disappeared through the house's doorway. Val made a >:C face. She now understood why some parents bought leashes for their children.
She watched as Jessica froze. Generally a not a great sign. She heard a male voice; saw a shirtless boy.
She heard Ty's name; saw Ty; heard Ty's voice.
Well, shoot.
Actually, maybe this wasn't that bad. Ty wasn't alone; that meant he wasn't killing everybody. Ty wasn't doing too good; that meant he was in a crisis, mental or physical or both.
A crisis for him meant an opportunity for her. She'd learned her lesson about not acting strategically.
STILL THOUGH, in case Ty was killing everyone except the shirtless boy, it'd be best to be cautious. She briefly made eye contact with Ty, raised her left eyebrow, and pursed her lips. Then, she sidestepped out of view from the building's occupants and turned around, her back against the wall outside. Jessica was already inside; she'd basically volunteered herself into being the scout.
She looked over to Camille. "Wait. Wall." she whispered. "Door's a chokepoint. If we all go in at once and they shoot, we all die. Jessica, talk to them. Don't mention Claude yet. Assess."
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
Well. That was...unfortunate.
Unlike every other 'killer's' name on the announcement, where Camille could not say for certain if Danya had adequately captured the 'spirit' and motivation of their actions, there was something inescapably grim about what Ty was doing. Camille had heard a lot about Ty. Claudeson's story of their first encounter still stuck in her mind. How it affected Claude, the impact every little detail had on his mental state, that was something she could never forget. There was that slim chance that Claude had been wrong, that Ty was really not that bad a guy, but it was certainly the safer assumption to push those thoughts to one side, to sharpen her instincts for cynicism and scepticism, and to view Tyrell as a potential threat that had to, at the very least, be contained.
There was something rather twisted, a cruel and capricious whim of fate, that they had set off ostensibly in search of Claudeson, probably going in the opposite direction as him for most of their travels, and ended up encountering the very dangerous, very lethal, very face-punchy foe that he had set off in search of. At least, that's what Camille had thought Claude to be doing. She couldn't remember exactly. He had spoken ambiguously, in terms of 'trials' and 'making things right' and other euphemisms that Camille assumed meant 'find Tyrell and stop him' but she couldn't know for certain.
Camille paused, listening in and ascertaining what sort of state Ty was in. He had company. What that meant.
Val volunteered herself as the strategist. Camille agreed.
Camille took a step - very casually, as if moving to get to a slightly better spot for shelter, one where the rain was a bit less full-on and she was a bit less exposed to the elements - out of view, towards the wall. She set her bag down against the wall. Unzipped it at the corner. Just in case they needed to pull out a weapon...well. She'd gotten acquainted with her weapon one time when on watch. She hadn't exactly practised with it yet - the risks of drawing attention seemed prohibitive at the time - but she was now regretting what had seemed prudent at the time. A bit of practical knowledge with a firearm would go a long way in case things went south.
Unlike every other 'killer's' name on the announcement, where Camille could not say for certain if Danya had adequately captured the 'spirit' and motivation of their actions, there was something inescapably grim about what Ty was doing. Camille had heard a lot about Ty. Claudeson's story of their first encounter still stuck in her mind. How it affected Claude, the impact every little detail had on his mental state, that was something she could never forget. There was that slim chance that Claude had been wrong, that Ty was really not that bad a guy, but it was certainly the safer assumption to push those thoughts to one side, to sharpen her instincts for cynicism and scepticism, and to view Tyrell as a potential threat that had to, at the very least, be contained.
There was something rather twisted, a cruel and capricious whim of fate, that they had set off ostensibly in search of Claudeson, probably going in the opposite direction as him for most of their travels, and ended up encountering the very dangerous, very lethal, very face-punchy foe that he had set off in search of. At least, that's what Camille had thought Claude to be doing. She couldn't remember exactly. He had spoken ambiguously, in terms of 'trials' and 'making things right' and other euphemisms that Camille assumed meant 'find Tyrell and stop him' but she couldn't know for certain.
Camille paused, listening in and ascertaining what sort of state Ty was in. He had company. What that meant.
Val volunteered herself as the strategist. Camille agreed.
Camille took a step - very casually, as if moving to get to a slightly better spot for shelter, one where the rain was a bit less full-on and she was a bit less exposed to the elements - out of view, towards the wall. She set her bag down against the wall. Unzipped it at the corner. Just in case they needed to pull out a weapon...well. She'd gotten acquainted with her weapon one time when on watch. She hadn't exactly practised with it yet - the risks of drawing attention seemed prohibitive at the time - but she was now regretting what had seemed prudent at the time. A bit of practical knowledge with a firearm would go a long way in case things went south.
Jessica felt the entire world suddenly stop as it all focused on her. Drew was pleading with Jessica. Tyrell was speaking to Jessica. Valerija was ordering Jessica. Camille was also near Jessica. Jessica herself had yet to take a breath from the moment she saw Tyrell just casually standing around in a home. In her mind, Tyrell didn't need a home. Tyrell was a nameless monster who only existed to kill Christine and then disappear. Being a human who also seeked shelter from the rain somehow didn't scan in her mind.
And yet here he stood, hands empty, asking her a question like it was a casual lunch period back at school and she'd just found him smoking in the bathroom, or whatever people like Tyrell did.
When Drew made his speech about how Tyrell 'wasn't doing good right now' she felt a twinge of anger she didn't know she had. Do you know who also wasn't doing good right now, Drew? Christine. Christine wasn't doing good because Tyrell killed her. He'd killed someone else as well. And if Claudeson had managed to find Tyrell in the day that they had been apart, who knew what else had happened. Jessica had no idea what had gone on between the two, but it had caused Claudeson to abandon them yesterday.
When Tyrell asked what she wanted, she found herself unable to answer, because she didn't know what she wanted from him. Tyrell was a tangential figure in her life right now, someone who existed on the edge of her periphery, who killed one person she knew and caused another to abandon his group, and yet the two of them had never spoken, ever. It felt unnatural that she was even in this position in the first place, even taking into account the fact they were on an island in the middle of nowhere.
When Valerija told Jessica not to mention Claudeson yet, she felt a spot of emptiness, because Valerija had only a minute ago told her that searching for Claudeson was pointless, and yet here was someone who could best tell them what happened to Claudeson. Did he find Claudeson? Did he see Claudeson? Did he kill Claudeson? Did the reverse of all of that happen, except for that last part? The entire reason Jessica was in that building in the first place was because she wanted to find Claudeson and the two people she was travelling with didn't.
For the first time in Jessica's life, she felt like a person who didn't know who she was. Part of her wanted to yell at Drew, to scream at Christine's killer, to tell Valerija off for not helping her in what could easily have been a volatile and deadly situation, and the last time Jessica was in such a position she was smashed into the side of a cliff and almost died from the fall. But part of her wanted to do what was asked of her, because she still wanted to be Jessica; she wanted to tell Tyrell what she wanted, she wanted to help out with whatever Valerija and Camille were planning, she wanted everyone to get along so they could just wait everything out and hope, pray, plead to God, that whatever forces out there that were looking for them could use their time the most effectively and save them all.
Although to be frank she still wanted to yell at Drew for telling her that the guy who killed two people was going through a bad time, because she didn't even know what to say there.
But she finally took her breath.
Jessica tried to put all of that through her mind as she stood in the entryway to the room, Valerija and Camille behind the wall to her side, Drew at the couch, and Tyrell at the wall, and only one thing emerged.
"...I just wanted to get out of the rain..."
Her eyes didn't want to meet anyone, so they looked around the room.
And yet here he stood, hands empty, asking her a question like it was a casual lunch period back at school and she'd just found him smoking in the bathroom, or whatever people like Tyrell did.
When Drew made his speech about how Tyrell 'wasn't doing good right now' she felt a twinge of anger she didn't know she had. Do you know who also wasn't doing good right now, Drew? Christine. Christine wasn't doing good because Tyrell killed her. He'd killed someone else as well. And if Claudeson had managed to find Tyrell in the day that they had been apart, who knew what else had happened. Jessica had no idea what had gone on between the two, but it had caused Claudeson to abandon them yesterday.
When Tyrell asked what she wanted, she found herself unable to answer, because she didn't know what she wanted from him. Tyrell was a tangential figure in her life right now, someone who existed on the edge of her periphery, who killed one person she knew and caused another to abandon his group, and yet the two of them had never spoken, ever. It felt unnatural that she was even in this position in the first place, even taking into account the fact they were on an island in the middle of nowhere.
When Valerija told Jessica not to mention Claudeson yet, she felt a spot of emptiness, because Valerija had only a minute ago told her that searching for Claudeson was pointless, and yet here was someone who could best tell them what happened to Claudeson. Did he find Claudeson? Did he see Claudeson? Did he kill Claudeson? Did the reverse of all of that happen, except for that last part? The entire reason Jessica was in that building in the first place was because she wanted to find Claudeson and the two people she was travelling with didn't.
For the first time in Jessica's life, she felt like a person who didn't know who she was. Part of her wanted to yell at Drew, to scream at Christine's killer, to tell Valerija off for not helping her in what could easily have been a volatile and deadly situation, and the last time Jessica was in such a position she was smashed into the side of a cliff and almost died from the fall. But part of her wanted to do what was asked of her, because she still wanted to be Jessica; she wanted to tell Tyrell what she wanted, she wanted to help out with whatever Valerija and Camille were planning, she wanted everyone to get along so they could just wait everything out and hope, pray, plead to God, that whatever forces out there that were looking for them could use their time the most effectively and save them all.
Although to be frank she still wanted to yell at Drew for telling her that the guy who killed two people was going through a bad time, because she didn't even know what to say there.
But she finally took her breath.
Jessica tried to put all of that through her mind as she stood in the entryway to the room, Valerija and Camille behind the wall to her side, Drew at the couch, and Tyrell at the wall, and only one thing emerged.
"...I just wanted to get out of the rain..."
Her eyes didn't want to meet anyone, so they looked around the room.