[[Vivien Morin continued from Pretty Handsome Awkward]]
Vivien had really not stopped wailing for the last day and a half.
So he hadn't had the best experience back at the sawmill. He couldn't be too upset over that (maybe about having to leave that yummy Teo behind, but...)- at the very least he didn't have to deal with Gracie for longer than the two minutes they'd been...talking, to put it politely. Time spent alone was really infinitely superior to time spent with Gracie Wainwright of all people, and that Mike Jeffries really wasn't all that much better. If Vivien had been less of a classy girl he would've taken great pride in cursing them out.
He still did, of course. Just, in his head. Like a good girl.
That was no big deal, though. That was nothing. Bitchy girls and homophobic boys were just high school, just Vivien's everyday life, and it was almost comforting to experience that again, even if the bitchy girl had a gun and the homophobic boy had a katana. Nope, the problem came about fifteen minutes after Vivien made his dramatic exit from the sawmill, when he realized he'd left his little red dress back in the sawmill's dormitory. The poor boy's heart nearly stopped at the revelation.
Not literally. Not yet.
Oh, but that dress--! That dress was gorgeous, where am I ever going to find one like it again?! What if I've got some classy event to attend, classy means red! I don't have any other red outfits on me, I figured I was only going to NEED one, I can't just leave it there where fucking Gracie can try to squeeze her size-10 ass into it, she'll rip it and then what'll I do, I can't afford to have it tailored- but I CAN'T go back, they'd probably kill me and besides that'd be the BIGGEST faux pas, coming back after you've already had the last word...
Vivien's inner voice when on like this for hours as her went on like this for hours as he made his way southeast, considering the mansion a decent destination- maybe they left the clothes in the closets! ooh, that might make up for this- at a slow pace. Flats or not, Vivien was not athletic, and he was not dressed for activity so much as for a dinner date. It had become too dark to see when he finally collapsed, exhausted and irritable, by a nondescript tree. He could make the mansion the next day- for now, with his duffel bag as a pillow, he fell into a deep sleep, managing to leave behind thoughts of how dirty his dress was going to get.
---
Vivien's first thought upon waking up was why's it so quiet...?
Over the last few days, he (along with half the island) had gotten used to the morning announcements as an alarm clock, as a beginning to a new day of being not dead. But as he looked up at the sky and saw exactly where the sun was, he realized that not only had he managed to sleep right through the announcements, he'd slept in until past noon.
How-?! Ugh, I wish I had an actual alarm with me...I must have really been out late last night. No big deal, I'll get to the mansion eventually...
Almost automatically Vivien stripped out of his black dress and into a green and white halter sundress that was both super cute and super casual, to his irritation. He had a pair of heels that would go just perfectly with the dress, but he'd learned his lesson regarding heels and walking on grass/dirt/rocks/generally any terrain that wasn't perfectly flat. The black flats would go fine, at least until he found some boy he needed to impress.
He was on his way then, still keeping course towards the mansion, figuring maybe he could spend tonight there at least. His mind was still preoccupied with the fate of the dress- with half-hatched schemes of how to retrieve it- and time passed fairly quickly and uneventfully as he wandered into what the map called "The Greens", what he figured was basically whoever owned the mansion's personal recreat-
He stopped dead.
In front of him lay the rotting body of the late Carol Burke.
Now, Vivien had seen bodies. Unless someone was honestly hiding in a bunker somewhere, it would be impossible to completely avoid contact with corpses, considering how many littered the island. But this was his first time seeing the body of someone he knew. Someone he went to prom with. Someone he actually rather liked. And though he'd blown off her death at the time- mostly because it was quite difficult for him to take any of what he heard on the announcements seriously- now, seeing her body in front of him...
He really didn't want to be here, anymore.
He backed away, slowly, and managed to trip backwards over his own feet into a bush. Attractive, some unoccupied part of his brain thought, while the rest of his brain worked to get Vivien into a less ridiculous position.
And then his brain had the decency to shut off for a while, and let Vivien cry.
Classy, Not Classic
Evening of Day 6 - Open
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Hollyquin†
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- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Classy, Not Classic
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((Alex Jackson continued from Where House?))
Alex walked and walked and walked across the island. She'd decided that she'd had enough of the northern part of the island. She moved slowly still trying to adjust to the fact that she was now alone in the world. It had always been the two of them, and now here she was wandering this island alone. It was a weird feeling and she wondered for a few minutes what it was like for her classmates who hadn't had someone to share school with. She and Roman hadn't been in the same class very many times, but they'd still always been learning the same things at the same time. What was it like, she wondered, to have an older sibling to compete with or a younger one that looked up to you? What was it like being the only one to get your parents attention? There had never been a time when she hadn't had to share with Roman. Which for the most part was a good thing, especially on birthdays before their relatives had figured them out.
Alex came to a stop as the dirt trail that she'd been following suddenly turned into a green lawn. At one time it must have been perfectly manicured and Alex spared a moment to wonder who would take the time to build and maintain something like this and then leave it behind. Was there some plague or something here? Movement ahead of her snapped her out of her musings, as she saw one of her classmates fall over. She walked towards him and realized that it was Vivien Morin.
"Hey, Viv, you okay? What happened," Alex asked offering him genuine smile and a hand up. Alex and Vivien had shared a few classes together and they'd always been on friendly terms. Alex figured it was because they both tended to operate outside of everyone's expectations. Regardless, it was nice to see someone she considered a friend out here.
Alex walked and walked and walked across the island. She'd decided that she'd had enough of the northern part of the island. She moved slowly still trying to adjust to the fact that she was now alone in the world. It had always been the two of them, and now here she was wandering this island alone. It was a weird feeling and she wondered for a few minutes what it was like for her classmates who hadn't had someone to share school with. She and Roman hadn't been in the same class very many times, but they'd still always been learning the same things at the same time. What was it like, she wondered, to have an older sibling to compete with or a younger one that looked up to you? What was it like being the only one to get your parents attention? There had never been a time when she hadn't had to share with Roman. Which for the most part was a good thing, especially on birthdays before their relatives had figured them out.
Alex came to a stop as the dirt trail that she'd been following suddenly turned into a green lawn. At one time it must have been perfectly manicured and Alex spared a moment to wonder who would take the time to build and maintain something like this and then leave it behind. Was there some plague or something here? Movement ahead of her snapped her out of her musings, as she saw one of her classmates fall over. She walked towards him and realized that it was Vivien Morin.
"Hey, Viv, you okay? What happened," Alex asked offering him genuine smile and a hand up. Alex and Vivien had shared a few classes together and they'd always been on friendly terms. Alex figured it was because they both tended to operate outside of everyone's expectations. Regardless, it was nice to see someone she considered a friend out here.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Arscapi. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
There are moments in time where you kinda need someone you really care about around. Someone important to you. Someone who understands you, someone who's been through some shit with you, someone who won't judge you and will hold you and let you cry and tell you everything will be okay and no, okay, that was kind of pathetic but still. Sometimes what you really needed, what would really solve your problems was your best friend, or at least someone close to that.
This was one of those moments and Alex Jackson was not his best friend.
They were friendly. Friends and friendly were very distinct things in the mind of Vivien Morin, ever the social butterfly. Friends were people he actually needed, trusted, liked being around and would actually trust fashion advice from (not that he ever needed it). People he was friendly with, he could be an absolute angel to, because he was quite good at being an absolute angel when the situation demanded it, but that meant very, very little. Vivien was friendly with pretty much anyone who didn't judge him, or wear socks with sandals, or orange, or jeans more than once a week, or shoes that don't match the rest of their outfit Anyway. There were probably a lot of people who would name themselves as Vivien's friends if asked, and in a life or death situation like Survival of the Fittest that suited him just fine. He did like Alex Jackson. She was quite sweet if a bit fashionably retarded, a common problem amongst the girls of Bayview. But...
But I don't want Alex. I want Aislyn. Or Sammy. Or...
His eyes touched the corpse again. He flinched.
"I'm...fine, Alex." Lying is a sin, dear. "I'm just...not in the mood for company."
A more functional Vivien would've weighed his options a bit more closely. He was in the market for a bodyguard, after all, and Alex was tough and apparently armed, and he'd realize not too much later that the smart thing to do would be to talk to her. Get her to stay. Take advantage of that like a good little manipulative reality-television vixen. Take full advantage of their good terms, of the friendship that Alex likely assumed was solid. Shoot her in the back or something later. All of that. That would be smart. That would be strategic. That would all be good but Alex Jackson could not bring Carol Burke back to life and Vivien's currently one-track mind failed to process the various logical reasons not to do what he was about to do.
"...Leave me alone."
His voice a bit harsher this time, mentally apologetic for his tone but unable to afford Alex's continued presence. If she kept talking he'd probably start crying again and that was ugly enough the first time.
This was one of those moments and Alex Jackson was not his best friend.
They were friendly. Friends and friendly were very distinct things in the mind of Vivien Morin, ever the social butterfly. Friends were people he actually needed, trusted, liked being around and would actually trust fashion advice from (not that he ever needed it). People he was friendly with, he could be an absolute angel to, because he was quite good at being an absolute angel when the situation demanded it, but that meant very, very little. Vivien was friendly with pretty much anyone who didn't judge him, or wear socks with sandals, or orange, or jeans more than once a week, or shoes that don't match the rest of their outfit Anyway. There were probably a lot of people who would name themselves as Vivien's friends if asked, and in a life or death situation like Survival of the Fittest that suited him just fine. He did like Alex Jackson. She was quite sweet if a bit fashionably retarded, a common problem amongst the girls of Bayview. But...
But I don't want Alex. I want Aislyn. Or Sammy. Or...
His eyes touched the corpse again. He flinched.
"I'm...fine, Alex." Lying is a sin, dear. "I'm just...not in the mood for company."
A more functional Vivien would've weighed his options a bit more closely. He was in the market for a bodyguard, after all, and Alex was tough and apparently armed, and he'd realize not too much later that the smart thing to do would be to talk to her. Get her to stay. Take advantage of that like a good little manipulative reality-television vixen. Take full advantage of their good terms, of the friendship that Alex likely assumed was solid. Shoot her in the back or something later. All of that. That would be smart. That would be strategic. That would all be good but Alex Jackson could not bring Carol Burke back to life and Vivien's currently one-track mind failed to process the various logical reasons not to do what he was about to do.
"...Leave me alone."
His voice a bit harsher this time, mentally apologetic for his tone but unable to afford Alex's continued presence. If she kept talking he'd probably start crying again and that was ugly enough the first time.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Alex's eyes widened and she stepped back dropping her hand. "Umm, okay. So totally not a problem," Alex said stepping back. "Just thought it might be nice to actually talk to someone decent, but apparently you no longer fall into that category. So I'll go and leave you to your mood." Alex turned on her heel and retreated back the way that she'd come, shaking her head in amazement at what these last few days had done to her friends.
((Alex Jackson continued in Second Verse Same as the First))
((Alex Jackson continued in Second Verse Same as the First))
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Hollyquin†
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"Umm, okay. So totally not a problem."
Bitch voice. Vivien recognized it, because it was practically his default tone.
"Just thought it might be nice to actually talk to someone decent, but apparently you no longer fall into that category."
Unnecessary in the extreme.
"So I'll go and leave you to your mood."
And so she left, leaving Vivien to his mood, as she put it. To my mood? Really? Honestly? What does that even mean? Could she possibly be any more rude? His guilt at having dispatched her in such a manner immediately dispersed given that I'm obviously an innocent little damsel in distress. There are more graceful ways to leave a girl alone. That was some...some Gracie Wainwright shit. The thought brightened him immediately. Disparaging Gracie Wainwright always put him in a good mood. Yes, well, on other bright points in my life right now, Gracie Wainwright is looking awful as always-
On the other hand, she's alive, and Carol isn't.
He un-brightened, as if that was even a word.
He really needed to get out of here.
It was getting dark. Vivien had originally marked the mansion as a destination, and logically that was still the way to go, given that he presumably needed a place to sleep tonight, but that was logical and logic was not his strongest suit. Vivien didn't want to be anywhere near here. He wanted to go far away, in any direction, as far away from the corpse of his fallen friend. He stood, barely able to hoist his bags, stumbling pathetically into the dark, into the trees.
He wouldn't be sleeping tonight.
[[Vivien Morin continued in Bloodgarden]]
Bitch voice. Vivien recognized it, because it was practically his default tone.
"Just thought it might be nice to actually talk to someone decent, but apparently you no longer fall into that category."
Unnecessary in the extreme.
"So I'll go and leave you to your mood."
And so she left, leaving Vivien to his mood, as she put it. To my mood? Really? Honestly? What does that even mean? Could she possibly be any more rude? His guilt at having dispatched her in such a manner immediately dispersed given that I'm obviously an innocent little damsel in distress. There are more graceful ways to leave a girl alone. That was some...some Gracie Wainwright shit. The thought brightened him immediately. Disparaging Gracie Wainwright always put him in a good mood. Yes, well, on other bright points in my life right now, Gracie Wainwright is looking awful as always-
On the other hand, she's alive, and Carol isn't.
He un-brightened, as if that was even a word.
He really needed to get out of here.
It was getting dark. Vivien had originally marked the mansion as a destination, and logically that was still the way to go, given that he presumably needed a place to sleep tonight, but that was logical and logic was not his strongest suit. Vivien didn't want to be anywhere near here. He wanted to go far away, in any direction, as far away from the corpse of his fallen friend. He stood, barely able to hoist his bags, stumbling pathetically into the dark, into the trees.
He wouldn't be sleeping tonight.
[[Vivien Morin continued in Bloodgarden]]
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.