When she heard the sound of liquid hitting metal, Georgia Lee made her move.
Opening the first aid kit, she tore off about six inches of surgical tape with her teeth and held it between her forefinger and thumb. Fiyori was still occupied, as Georgia Lee placed her hands under the table, as if she was simply placing them in her lap. Crossing her legs like a man would, with the ankle of one resting on the knee of another, she slid Fiyori's spectacles out from her boot and pressed them against the underside of the table, placing the tape over them to hold them in place. All told it was the work of seconds, and she had closed the first aid kit and placed her hands back on the table before Fiyori had finished relieving herself.
Georgia Lee's companion seemed safe for now, but she knew exactly how quickly the girl could turn from apologetic to apoplectic, and Georgia Lee had not intent on letting that happen. She had to get the glasses off of her person before Fiyori came across them somehow, and she had to do int in such a way that it wouldn't to show the whole world that she was the one who'd taken the glasses in the first place.
"Uhh, yeah, do whatever you think's best." she said, distracted.
She rubbed on her foot, where the glasses had rubbed it raw, then lowered her leg and folded her hands together on the table.
Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying
[ASK FIRST] [Content Warning: Polite Conversation]
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Hm? Now that was a curious thing. The silence that accompanied Fiyori's suggestion. Even more curious the nonchalant response of Georgia Lee. Fiyori wished she had turned around. Would've been rude. Kinda sick, maintaining eye contact with her companion while taking the piss. Could've been someone's fetish as well, for all she knew.
Fiyori would have liked to make a judgment call, but she couldn't. At least, she could speculate all day long about what Georgia Lee thought and did and grimaced when Fiyori wasn't looking. But that was the point. Or the problem, in that case. Fiyori wasn't looking, so she didn't know what to think.
Not a pleasant thought to be thinking, but one that put a smile on her lips nonetheless. She figured, that out of all the possibilities that Fiyori saw, the most reasonable was that Georgia Lee simply didn't listen.
And that would be amusing again.
Fiyori finished her business. She'd have preferred to wipe somehow, but there was nothing to wipe with. Good thing she didn't manage to care in that moment. She pulled her pants up, took the pee pot and jaunted towards GLD.
"Worryingly compliant there, mate. Almost gets me thinking."
Fiyori would have liked to make a judgment call, but she couldn't. At least, she could speculate all day long about what Georgia Lee thought and did and grimaced when Fiyori wasn't looking. But that was the point. Or the problem, in that case. Fiyori wasn't looking, so she didn't know what to think.
Not a pleasant thought to be thinking, but one that put a smile on her lips nonetheless. She figured, that out of all the possibilities that Fiyori saw, the most reasonable was that Georgia Lee simply didn't listen.
And that would be amusing again.
Fiyori finished her business. She'd have preferred to wipe somehow, but there was nothing to wipe with. Good thing she didn't manage to care in that moment. She pulled her pants up, took the pee pot and jaunted towards GLD.
"Worryingly compliant there, mate. Almost gets me thinking."
Gervais Frans Lambotte 
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Alright, now that was a non-answer if Fiyori ever saw one. Figured that might happen, she guessed. After all, she was insinuating that Georgia Lee Day was familiar with drinking piss. Completely in jest, of course, but with a person like her you never quite knew how they took it.
Fiyori presumed that she took it not the right way, but oh well.
She tidied the surface of her seat - for no reason, at all, really it wasn't that dusty and the dirt that stuck wouldn't be just swept away - and sat down again.
Fiyori presumed that she took it not the right way, but oh well.
She tidied the surface of her seat - for no reason, at all, really it wasn't that dusty and the dirt that stuck wouldn't be just swept away - and sat down again.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
"Don't do that, you'll get a headache." Georgia Lee gave a thin, tired smile.
Her heart was racing. Every moment that she'd had the glasses in her hands she'd been certain, utterly certain that Fiyori would turn around or hear somehow or just know. Georgia Lee kept her shoulders level and took long, slow breaths in through her nose, willing her face to be blank, to give away nothing. She had done nothing wrong, she told herself. Any oddness on her parked would be marked off as her being uncomfortable with the rather unprecedented level of intimacy the two of them now found themselves in, while the glasses were ten thousand times safer there than they would be on her person.
This was the right call.
Georgia Lee looked away from Fiyori, not meeting her eyes. This was fine, as it was exactly what an embarrassed person would do, too, and of course that was what she was. The pounding of her heart faded from her ears, and she noticed just how quiet the room was. She could smell Fiyori's urine. She wanted to ask the girl why she'd thought it necessary to bring her impromptu chamber pot over to where they kept there food, but thought better of it. This was no time to aggravate the other girl.
The silence between them stretched out forever, and not for the first time Georgia Lee questioned her choice of room mate. Bad enough that the girl hated her, that she tormented her at every opportunity, that she very well might pose a threat to her and that her every word and thought were either asinine or terrifying, but now she saw fit to cart her fluids around with her? There had been a hundred students on that field trip, an even dozen of whom Georgia Lee got along with, and yet who did she have to wake up next to? The unfairness of it all made Georgia Lee just want to tear her hair out.
In an instant, she was suddenly and absurdly sorry for herself, feeling utterly piteous and hard done by. It was not a feeling she liked.
Mr. Norman, a neighbour from three doors down had fallen off his roof in late 2012. It was a single story house and he'd landed on grass and he'd been young too, only 44 but he'd died all the same. Those Days that were still living in the Day household at the time had gone to his wake, and Georgia Lee was among them. Everyone there had been either much older or much younger than her and all the food was fatty and she'd left her phone at home so as to be respectful. She'd been achingly bored, and tremendously guilty about how bored she was. It seemed so ungrateful, complaining about a lack of good food or conversation, in the face of the genuine anguish that the people around her were going through. It had seemed childish, and Georgia Lee had reprimanded herself for her lack of perspective. She'd told herself she'd be better in future, and she'd thought that she would be.
Outside, maybe yards away, people would be dying, and here Georgia Lee felt sorry for herself because she'd made a bad choice in roommates. It was pathetic, and she was better than that.
Calming, she turned back to Fiyori.
Her heart was racing. Every moment that she'd had the glasses in her hands she'd been certain, utterly certain that Fiyori would turn around or hear somehow or just know. Georgia Lee kept her shoulders level and took long, slow breaths in through her nose, willing her face to be blank, to give away nothing. She had done nothing wrong, she told herself. Any oddness on her parked would be marked off as her being uncomfortable with the rather unprecedented level of intimacy the two of them now found themselves in, while the glasses were ten thousand times safer there than they would be on her person.
This was the right call.
Georgia Lee looked away from Fiyori, not meeting her eyes. This was fine, as it was exactly what an embarrassed person would do, too, and of course that was what she was. The pounding of her heart faded from her ears, and she noticed just how quiet the room was. She could smell Fiyori's urine. She wanted to ask the girl why she'd thought it necessary to bring her impromptu chamber pot over to where they kept there food, but thought better of it. This was no time to aggravate the other girl.
The silence between them stretched out forever, and not for the first time Georgia Lee questioned her choice of room mate. Bad enough that the girl hated her, that she tormented her at every opportunity, that she very well might pose a threat to her and that her every word and thought were either asinine or terrifying, but now she saw fit to cart her fluids around with her? There had been a hundred students on that field trip, an even dozen of whom Georgia Lee got along with, and yet who did she have to wake up next to? The unfairness of it all made Georgia Lee just want to tear her hair out.
In an instant, she was suddenly and absurdly sorry for herself, feeling utterly piteous and hard done by. It was not a feeling she liked.
Mr. Norman, a neighbour from three doors down had fallen off his roof in late 2012. It was a single story house and he'd landed on grass and he'd been young too, only 44 but he'd died all the same. Those Days that were still living in the Day household at the time had gone to his wake, and Georgia Lee was among them. Everyone there had been either much older or much younger than her and all the food was fatty and she'd left her phone at home so as to be respectful. She'd been achingly bored, and tremendously guilty about how bored she was. It seemed so ungrateful, complaining about a lack of good food or conversation, in the face of the genuine anguish that the people around her were going through. It had seemed childish, and Georgia Lee had reprimanded herself for her lack of perspective. She'd told herself she'd be better in future, and she'd thought that she would be.
Outside, maybe yards away, people would be dying, and here Georgia Lee felt sorry for herself because she'd made a bad choice in roommates. It was pathetic, and she was better than that.
Calming, she turned back to Fiyori.
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It felt odd to sit in the cafeteria. It felt isolated, somehow. Fiyori would have said 'protected', but the word left a foul taste in her mouth. They were sitting all alone, removed from the reality of Survival of the Fittest by nothing but the walls and floors and barricaded windows. And yet, they could hear it. They could hear the ringing of a bell in the distance. They could hear the voices of young men and women far away and too close for comfort. Steps came, steps went. It happened, they knew. But they weren't part of it.
Not yet, at least.
The day came to an end. The gray sky turned dark entirely soon enough. Fiyori and Georgia Lee drank a bit. They ate a bit. They talked a lot. She wasn't sure what they talked all about, but they did, and it was comfortable and pleasing to chat. Still, Fiyori knew that Georgia Lee Day was dangerous. She guessed that it was the same Georgia Lee thought about Fiyori. An uneasy fact hanging above their relationship, but it was what it was.
Either way, Fiyori grew tired. Physically tired, which was a surprise as she did little but sit the entire day. She knew that this was sometimes the case. That people felt lethargic due to doing nothing, but Fiyori didn't feel like doing nothing. Georgia Lee was a partner that required constant attention and mental alertness. That mental alertness has seemingly transferred to a grogginess of the limbs. A yearning to just close the eyes and fall asleep.
"Sleeping while sitting's pretty unhealthy, though."
Fiyori lifted the poncho from her body, folded it a few times, so that the cloth was thick enough - or at least appeared thick enough - to serve as a pillow.
"If you don't mind we can share."
Not yet, at least.
The day came to an end. The gray sky turned dark entirely soon enough. Fiyori and Georgia Lee drank a bit. They ate a bit. They talked a lot. She wasn't sure what they talked all about, but they did, and it was comfortable and pleasing to chat. Still, Fiyori knew that Georgia Lee Day was dangerous. She guessed that it was the same Georgia Lee thought about Fiyori. An uneasy fact hanging above their relationship, but it was what it was.
Either way, Fiyori grew tired. Physically tired, which was a surprise as she did little but sit the entire day. She knew that this was sometimes the case. That people felt lethargic due to doing nothing, but Fiyori didn't feel like doing nothing. Georgia Lee was a partner that required constant attention and mental alertness. That mental alertness has seemingly transferred to a grogginess of the limbs. A yearning to just close the eyes and fall asleep.
"Sleeping while sitting's pretty unhealthy, though."
Fiyori lifted the poncho from her body, folded it a few times, so that the cloth was thick enough - or at least appeared thick enough - to serve as a pillow.
"If you don't mind we can share."
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
The Poncho flared like bat wings as Fiyori pulled it over her head, and Georgia Lee was struck briefly with the image of the other girl taking flight, leaping into the air and crashing through the crumbling ceiling and out into the night.
She pictured Fiyori out among the stars, covered in fabric feathers. Her ears would stretch and grow, her nose pull back to a flattened snout, her eyes widen and her awful collar fall off and down, down into the sea and she'd be free. There was something strangely charming about it.
The garment came off, and Georgia Lee was struck by just how little there was of the Fiyori. She was a skeleton, all spine and ribs and malice, without an ounce of muscle or fat on her anywhere. 'Heroin chic' was the expression that came to mind, and Georgia Lee suspected it might be more than a little literal on this case.
She realized she was staring and looked away, embarrassed, as Fiyori looked at her.
"It's a... umm, it's a nice offer, Fiyori, but perhaps we should have someone on watch? We can sleep in shifts"
Georgia Lee was exhausted, a bone-weariness that made all her limbs feel like the weighed a hundred pounds, and her eyelids at least double that. Her thoughts were coming slowly, like she was pushing them through mud, and she knew that she needed to sleep more than anything. Still, even in this state the idea of being unconscious around Fiyori filled her with dread. On a conscious, rational level she doubted the girl was likely to bludgeon her while she slept, or wander off blind into the dark without her - neither of those made any sense, and she had nothing to gain. On the other hand, Fiyori'd had nothing to gain by making Georgia Lee's life miserable for months, but she'd forged merrily ahead with that anyway, so why on earth would she not take this opportunity to hurt her further?
Fiyori wasn't rational, and trying to be rational about how she was likely to drive Georgia Lee insane.
It came down to this: she needed to sleep at some point. It was dark, she was tired, and she'd left it too late to find anywhere else to hide out, or anyone else to watch over her. Georgia Lee knew why she'd done this, of course - walled up in the cafeteria had been safe, or felt it at least, whereas going out past the barricade was going into the unknown, where anything could happen to her. She'd stayed where it was comfortable and where she hadn't needed to worry, and now it was night and she had no choice but to continue to stick around here.
Was Fiyori dangerous? Of course she was, but in a choice between her, and wandering enervated out into the dark, Georgia Lee had to choose Fiyori.
"You sleep, though. I can take first lookout."
She pictured Fiyori out among the stars, covered in fabric feathers. Her ears would stretch and grow, her nose pull back to a flattened snout, her eyes widen and her awful collar fall off and down, down into the sea and she'd be free. There was something strangely charming about it.
The garment came off, and Georgia Lee was struck by just how little there was of the Fiyori. She was a skeleton, all spine and ribs and malice, without an ounce of muscle or fat on her anywhere. 'Heroin chic' was the expression that came to mind, and Georgia Lee suspected it might be more than a little literal on this case.
She realized she was staring and looked away, embarrassed, as Fiyori looked at her.
"It's a... umm, it's a nice offer, Fiyori, but perhaps we should have someone on watch? We can sleep in shifts"
Georgia Lee was exhausted, a bone-weariness that made all her limbs feel like the weighed a hundred pounds, and her eyelids at least double that. Her thoughts were coming slowly, like she was pushing them through mud, and she knew that she needed to sleep more than anything. Still, even in this state the idea of being unconscious around Fiyori filled her with dread. On a conscious, rational level she doubted the girl was likely to bludgeon her while she slept, or wander off blind into the dark without her - neither of those made any sense, and she had nothing to gain. On the other hand, Fiyori'd had nothing to gain by making Georgia Lee's life miserable for months, but she'd forged merrily ahead with that anyway, so why on earth would she not take this opportunity to hurt her further?
Fiyori wasn't rational, and trying to be rational about how she was likely to drive Georgia Lee insane.
It came down to this: she needed to sleep at some point. It was dark, she was tired, and she'd left it too late to find anywhere else to hide out, or anyone else to watch over her. Georgia Lee knew why she'd done this, of course - walled up in the cafeteria had been safe, or felt it at least, whereas going out past the barricade was going into the unknown, where anything could happen to her. She'd stayed where it was comfortable and where she hadn't needed to worry, and now it was night and she had no choice but to continue to stick around here.
Was Fiyori dangerous? Of course she was, but in a choice between her, and wandering enervated out into the dark, Georgia Lee had to choose Fiyori.
"You sleep, though. I can take first lookout."
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It was an offer, a nice gesture Fiyori made. She wasn't sure whether she really looked forward to sharing the little bit of cloth she had, but it felt more polite to ask anyway. Not that she was feeling some sort of relief or anything. Georgia Lee was getting good at nonchalantly parrying all the suggestive shit Fiyori was throwing at her, and that was some sort of boring. Though maybe that was fatigue speaking for the both of them.
"Of course, you're right."
Georgia Lee proposed shift duty, to have on stay awake while the other slept. It was the rational thing to do, Fiyori realized. As she had no rational point to argue against it, she said nothing. Oh, but she really didn't feel like staying awake for hours, entirely in the dark and alone with her thoughts. Plus Georgia Lee Day, who was hopefully not snoring. Though, perhaps she could find amusement in that fact.
"Alright, no problems with that."
She'd amuse herself, somehow. Count a few sheep. Rifle through GLD's belongings. Sing a song without actually singing. Masturbate. Or maybe not, she forgot the cameras for a moment there. Maybe she could rifle through her belonging's once more, just in case. Who knew when else there would be a chance for Fiyori to take a good look.
Fiyori placed the poncho she had folded together at the head-end of a table. She moved herself on top of it, and laid down. The table was hard, and uncomfortable all around. It wasn't as cold as the floor, and that she figured was a blessing. She'd deal with the pressing feelings all over her body, and the pillow that really wasn't helping.
Her head turned over to GLD, hair falling all over in her face. There was something uneasy about the prospect, now that she was thinking about it. To fall asleep with her in the room seemed unwise. It wasn't a rational feeling, of course. Just a hunch, a bad grumbling in her stomach. Something to ponder about for hours without coming to a fruitful conclusion.
"Good night." She smiled, closed her eyes, and gone was she.
"Of course, you're right."
Georgia Lee proposed shift duty, to have on stay awake while the other slept. It was the rational thing to do, Fiyori realized. As she had no rational point to argue against it, she said nothing. Oh, but she really didn't feel like staying awake for hours, entirely in the dark and alone with her thoughts. Plus Georgia Lee Day, who was hopefully not snoring. Though, perhaps she could find amusement in that fact.
"Alright, no problems with that."
She'd amuse herself, somehow. Count a few sheep. Rifle through GLD's belongings. Sing a song without actually singing. Masturbate. Or maybe not, she forgot the cameras for a moment there. Maybe she could rifle through her belonging's once more, just in case. Who knew when else there would be a chance for Fiyori to take a good look.
Fiyori placed the poncho she had folded together at the head-end of a table. She moved herself on top of it, and laid down. The table was hard, and uncomfortable all around. It wasn't as cold as the floor, and that she figured was a blessing. She'd deal with the pressing feelings all over her body, and the pillow that really wasn't helping.
Her head turned over to GLD, hair falling all over in her face. There was something uneasy about the prospect, now that she was thinking about it. To fall asleep with her in the room seemed unwise. It wasn't a rational feeling, of course. Just a hunch, a bad grumbling in her stomach. Something to ponder about for hours without coming to a fruitful conclusion.
"Good night." She smiled, closed her eyes, and gone was she.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
"Good night, Fiyori."
Georgia Lee stood and walked a few yards from the girl. She sat down, choosing to sit on the edge of a table rather than a chair: no backrest would make it that much harder for her to drift off. She crossed her arms, looked towards the door, and tried to stay conscious.
Behind her, she heard the other girl's breath soften and slow. She sat in the dark, listened to Fiyori fall asleep and thought of home.
It was the sound of the other girl sleeping that drew her thoughts here. Georgia Lee had spent most of her nights in a room shared with her sisters, and being less liberal in her affections than Fiyori was, this was the only time she'd really been near someone as they slept. Then, like now, Georgia Lee had been scared to sleep, afraid of what she'd wake up to, though then it had just been words. She'd cried, most nights.
She wouldn't cry now.
Georgia Lee had read a book (or was it a dozen?) where the hero had hated their situation and had despised it and complained and whined and had an adventure. It ended, as such things do, in them being thrown into the most awful predicament imaginable, and they'd looked back at how things had been and they'd thought to themselves "Oh! Things weren't so bad, if only I were back there."
If she were in such a book, Georgia Lee supposed, this would be the moment where one would expect her to do that. She would think back on all her sisters' mistreatment of her and see it simply as light-hearted teasing, as innocent fun that silly old Georgie had just been too young and immature to understand and appreciate. How lucky it would be for her, now, to look back and understand, to have that catharsis and forgive her siblings and face, with an open heart, whatever awaited her.
It was a lovely idea, but it ran into a flaw in the fact that Georgia Lee was not a complete and utter halfwit. She hadn't simply sat around for a decade, waiting for some peril to arise so that she could try her hand at introspection; she'd thought about what she'd been through for years. There wasn't perspective to be found in her situation being worse now, it just made it all the unfairer that things earlier had been so awful too, and they had been awful. Georgia Lee had just been a child, and the people who were meant to love her had made her feel miserable and scared and unwanted, and those people could go to hell. So what if it had been innocent? Any good intentions her sisters might have had hadn't made her life any less of a nightmare, so to hell with them even more for not seeing how much they had hurt her.
In the darkness outside, a girl screamed. Fiyori stirred. If she really had been asleep, the noise hadn't seemed to wake her.
Georgia Lee wondered how long her parents would be sad for How much longer, after the pain and the shock had faded, they would pretend, still, to be anguished. She wondered how long it would take for them to think "well, at least it was only Georgia Lee". Would they ever say it out loud? To each other? She'd always been told that she was their favourite, but Georgia Lee had looked and seen no evidence. She'd been the one their parents had pushed the least, the one whose success they were the least invested in and the one, in return, who'd given the least back and been the most independent. She hadn't needed them, but she'd needed them to know that.
"Thank God it was just Georgia Lee" they'd say after a month or so. With her sisters it'd be less than that. Georgia Lee had little to say in their favour, but at least they were open about their contempt for her.
She wiped a hand across her cheek. She wasn't crying.
---
If there was a moon, it wasn't visible through the windows. It was truly dark now, dark enough that Georgia Lee could barely make out the shapes in the room. Fiyori, only a few yards away, was just a faint lump in the darkness, snoring gently. Georgia Lee got to her feet and made her way over to where she'd left her bag, and pulled out the flashlight. It was small, not nearly heavy enough to be a weapon, but there was something reassuring about having it anyway.
She walked to the kitchen, taking long, even steps, letting the weight slowly shift from her heel to her toe. It'd be quieter if she took off her boots, of course, but the ground here was littered with stones and splinters, not to mention that it was filthy. If she had to move quickly she would appreciate having kept them on.
The moment she stepped into the kitchen she knocked into a pile of plates. There was the loud clank of china on china, but it didn't slide over and it didn't break, and she let out her breath, relieved. In here, away from the window it was impossible to see anything, and that made the kitchen particularly dangerous. It wasn't just that she could make a noise, she could easily cut herself on some rusty kitchen implement, and then where would she be? Ten thousand miles from a tetanus shot, sitting around, waiting to get an infection.
Something skittered across the bench, and she barely managed to stop herself screaming.
No way was she walking around here blind.
Georgia Lee pressed her fingers over the glass of her torch and switched it on. Her hand muffled most of the light, but a faint, red glow was emitted from between her fingers: not enough to see far, but it bounced back at her from the crumbling chrome of the kitchen nonetheless.
The torch was a cheap, flimsy thing, and already it was heating up under her fingers. It wouldn't be long before it would be too hot for her to touch, so she'd have to get out of here fast. Fine by her. She found what she was looking for almost immediately – a cast iron skillet with a bit of weight to it, though not enough that she couldn't swing it freely – and flicked the torch off, before backing out of the room.
Fiyori was where she left her.
Georgia Lee was almost, almost positive that the other girl was asleep. If there was some way of being completely sure, she would have knelt under the table, taken out another half dozen pieces of tape and made certain that the girl's glasses weren't going anywhere. As it was, though? No way, Georgia Lee would put it past Fiyori pretending to be asleep to spy on her, and no way was she going to bet her life on her ability to tell whether Fiyori was faking or not.
She'd have to let them be.
Georgia Lee returned to her seat. She tried to stay awake.
Georgia Lee stood and walked a few yards from the girl. She sat down, choosing to sit on the edge of a table rather than a chair: no backrest would make it that much harder for her to drift off. She crossed her arms, looked towards the door, and tried to stay conscious.
Behind her, she heard the other girl's breath soften and slow. She sat in the dark, listened to Fiyori fall asleep and thought of home.
It was the sound of the other girl sleeping that drew her thoughts here. Georgia Lee had spent most of her nights in a room shared with her sisters, and being less liberal in her affections than Fiyori was, this was the only time she'd really been near someone as they slept. Then, like now, Georgia Lee had been scared to sleep, afraid of what she'd wake up to, though then it had just been words. She'd cried, most nights.
She wouldn't cry now.
Georgia Lee had read a book (or was it a dozen?) where the hero had hated their situation and had despised it and complained and whined and had an adventure. It ended, as such things do, in them being thrown into the most awful predicament imaginable, and they'd looked back at how things had been and they'd thought to themselves "Oh! Things weren't so bad, if only I were back there."
If she were in such a book, Georgia Lee supposed, this would be the moment where one would expect her to do that. She would think back on all her sisters' mistreatment of her and see it simply as light-hearted teasing, as innocent fun that silly old Georgie had just been too young and immature to understand and appreciate. How lucky it would be for her, now, to look back and understand, to have that catharsis and forgive her siblings and face, with an open heart, whatever awaited her.
It was a lovely idea, but it ran into a flaw in the fact that Georgia Lee was not a complete and utter halfwit. She hadn't simply sat around for a decade, waiting for some peril to arise so that she could try her hand at introspection; she'd thought about what she'd been through for years. There wasn't perspective to be found in her situation being worse now, it just made it all the unfairer that things earlier had been so awful too, and they had been awful. Georgia Lee had just been a child, and the people who were meant to love her had made her feel miserable and scared and unwanted, and those people could go to hell. So what if it had been innocent? Any good intentions her sisters might have had hadn't made her life any less of a nightmare, so to hell with them even more for not seeing how much they had hurt her.
In the darkness outside, a girl screamed. Fiyori stirred. If she really had been asleep, the noise hadn't seemed to wake her.
Georgia Lee wondered how long her parents would be sad for How much longer, after the pain and the shock had faded, they would pretend, still, to be anguished. She wondered how long it would take for them to think "well, at least it was only Georgia Lee". Would they ever say it out loud? To each other? She'd always been told that she was their favourite, but Georgia Lee had looked and seen no evidence. She'd been the one their parents had pushed the least, the one whose success they were the least invested in and the one, in return, who'd given the least back and been the most independent. She hadn't needed them, but she'd needed them to know that.
"Thank God it was just Georgia Lee" they'd say after a month or so. With her sisters it'd be less than that. Georgia Lee had little to say in their favour, but at least they were open about their contempt for her.
She wiped a hand across her cheek. She wasn't crying.
---
If there was a moon, it wasn't visible through the windows. It was truly dark now, dark enough that Georgia Lee could barely make out the shapes in the room. Fiyori, only a few yards away, was just a faint lump in the darkness, snoring gently. Georgia Lee got to her feet and made her way over to where she'd left her bag, and pulled out the flashlight. It was small, not nearly heavy enough to be a weapon, but there was something reassuring about having it anyway.
She walked to the kitchen, taking long, even steps, letting the weight slowly shift from her heel to her toe. It'd be quieter if she took off her boots, of course, but the ground here was littered with stones and splinters, not to mention that it was filthy. If she had to move quickly she would appreciate having kept them on.
The moment she stepped into the kitchen she knocked into a pile of plates. There was the loud clank of china on china, but it didn't slide over and it didn't break, and she let out her breath, relieved. In here, away from the window it was impossible to see anything, and that made the kitchen particularly dangerous. It wasn't just that she could make a noise, she could easily cut herself on some rusty kitchen implement, and then where would she be? Ten thousand miles from a tetanus shot, sitting around, waiting to get an infection.
Something skittered across the bench, and she barely managed to stop herself screaming.
No way was she walking around here blind.
Georgia Lee pressed her fingers over the glass of her torch and switched it on. Her hand muffled most of the light, but a faint, red glow was emitted from between her fingers: not enough to see far, but it bounced back at her from the crumbling chrome of the kitchen nonetheless.
The torch was a cheap, flimsy thing, and already it was heating up under her fingers. It wouldn't be long before it would be too hot for her to touch, so she'd have to get out of here fast. Fine by her. She found what she was looking for almost immediately – a cast iron skillet with a bit of weight to it, though not enough that she couldn't swing it freely – and flicked the torch off, before backing out of the room.
Fiyori was where she left her.
Georgia Lee was almost, almost positive that the other girl was asleep. If there was some way of being completely sure, she would have knelt under the table, taken out another half dozen pieces of tape and made certain that the girl's glasses weren't going anywhere. As it was, though? No way, Georgia Lee would put it past Fiyori pretending to be asleep to spy on her, and no way was she going to bet her life on her ability to tell whether Fiyori was faking or not.
She'd have to let them be.
Georgia Lee returned to her seat. She tried to stay awake.
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Fiyori Senay closed her eyes, and in the very next moment, she opened them again. It was at first as if no time had passed had all. Fiyori fell asleep, and she woke up. Just a blink, but then she felt it. The aching of her muscles, the cold sting in her feet. She shivered, and it took all the might her mind could muster of lift her body up.
She had opened her eyes, but everything was black. With due strain she could muster spots where it was less dark than in others, and she could notice spots in which it was darker still, all thanks due to the little light shining in from the outside. There was no moon outside, she noticed. That she could see at all bewildered her.
Georgia Lee had said something, or perhaps was in the process of saying something, and usually Fiyori would've acknowledged it. She would've turned her head a bit, or nodded or something. But she simply sat upright on the table. She waited a moment. She waited two, and she would have guessed that GLD would become irritated if she continued any longer. So she stood up. She took three steps forward, and yawned.
--
The basic conditions present in her situation weren't that unfamiliar for Fiyori. It was dark, and she had no glasses. Her vision was as good as non-existent, and yet she wandered around some room. Fiyori didn't sleep with glasses, of course. She put them aside from the night, and whenever she rose during a moment of wakefulness, she would walk through her flat with closed eyes. There were no problems with that. She knew her home. She knew every corner and edge. She knew where the doors were, which directions she would have to take. She knew about all the clutter on the ground and all the shelves on the wall and all the obstacles on her way. Yet it was all so obviously different. At home she could be blind, but in that forsaken cafeteria all was black.
It had been a few times when Fiyori paced around the room at a leisurely pace, and yet stumbled upon or bumped into a table or a bench or even the edge of wall. It made noise each time and each time she waited for GLD to stir and rise. She didn't. But Fiyori settled with sitting down anyway.
It was a mistake, she found out. She closed her eyes at first. Let them stay closed for a few seconds. And soon a few minutes. She told herself she was merely resting them, as she would not need them either way, but all of a sudden she could feel herself slipping into sleep.
And again, she could feel herself waking up.
How much time did pass in the end? Fiyori didn't know, and she didn't care. She wouldn't care to tell GLD about that either.
Sitting alone in the darkness gave ample opportunity to think about whatever one pleased to think, though what Fiyori thought was less than pleasant. It was a terrible situation she was in, and she searched for words which could grasp fully the contempt she felt for her circumstances. She thoughts about it harder, she thought about the aching in her head, she thought about the shivering of her toes, she thought of the howling wind and she thought of the nausea she felt rising. She thought harder, and dug deeper. Deeper still, but all she found was chaos and noise.
For a moment, Fiyori rested. And for a moment, she wished that God would send a beast to come. A beast to dug it's claws deep into her throat, to tear her flesh out piece by piece, to devour her whole until all was still and Fiyori Senay would be no more.
She laughed, then. Softly, but laughed nonetheless. It was said people found faith in the most dire circumstances. A ridiculous notion, Fiyori claimed so often, and yet she could finally understand.
--
Fiyori would have liked if there was a way to find out whether GLD really slept. It was likely, as her breathing was slow, but even. She moved little, turned to the left and turned to the right from time to time. Fiyori thought about touching her, to lay her hand on her neck and see if her pulse had been low enough. She decided against it. One time her father was caressing her neck, and the sensation of his hand on her woke Fiyori immediately. She figured it would be like this for GLD as well.
Fiyori trusted that GLD would be asleep. If she was not, she guessed, she would have to think of a justification soon enough.
She moved into the kitchen. Slowly, with grace even. Paying attention to every inch that came before her, so that a careless movement of her long limbs would not cause her to fall. It had become easier to see, as the sun had began to rise. Fiyori would have guessed the time, if she knew where she was. It could have been five, could've been six. Maybe four, or maybe three. She didn't know, but it was getting brighter. It was enough to see a bit, and to search a bit too.
First was the sink. A bit rusty, a bit moldy. Enough for Fiyori to hesitate, but she resolved to put her hand in anyway. There were a few cups and pots in the sink, and Fiyori lifted them up and inspected them all. Mostly to find nothing, barring a few insects here and there. She tried to hold onto the edges of the sink and lift it from the cupboard, but she didn't manage that. Then she continued with the cupboard and shelves, pausing every time she opened one to see if GLD had waken up and was standing right behind her. She paused longer when the boards were stuck, and she had to pull harder to move them. The abrupt motion caused their contents to slid across the wood, creating enough noise to wake people. GLD seemed to be undisturbed, but Fiyori grew doubtful.
When she didn't find what she wanted to find in the boards or in the sink, she moved to inspect the ovens. Yet she found nothing. She moved on to inspect the dishwasher, and yet again she found nothing. Fiyori thought that it would be acceptable for her to grow irritated. Most people would in her situation, she guessed, but still she reminded herself to remain cautious. It was the fridge she chose to inspect last, and she found it was with good reason she did so. The moment she pulled the handle towards her, a ghastly stench emancipated from whatever was in there. She closed it quick. Perhaps too quick, but in the moment the noise was worth the suffering she spared her nose.
Defeated, Fiyori returned to the dining hall. The sun had risen a bit more. Not enough to call it a proper morning. But good enough for Fiyori to feel a glimmer of...
She halted. She didn't know.
She had opened her eyes, but everything was black. With due strain she could muster spots where it was less dark than in others, and she could notice spots in which it was darker still, all thanks due to the little light shining in from the outside. There was no moon outside, she noticed. That she could see at all bewildered her.
Georgia Lee had said something, or perhaps was in the process of saying something, and usually Fiyori would've acknowledged it. She would've turned her head a bit, or nodded or something. But she simply sat upright on the table. She waited a moment. She waited two, and she would have guessed that GLD would become irritated if she continued any longer. So she stood up. She took three steps forward, and yawned.
--
The basic conditions present in her situation weren't that unfamiliar for Fiyori. It was dark, and she had no glasses. Her vision was as good as non-existent, and yet she wandered around some room. Fiyori didn't sleep with glasses, of course. She put them aside from the night, and whenever she rose during a moment of wakefulness, she would walk through her flat with closed eyes. There were no problems with that. She knew her home. She knew every corner and edge. She knew where the doors were, which directions she would have to take. She knew about all the clutter on the ground and all the shelves on the wall and all the obstacles on her way. Yet it was all so obviously different. At home she could be blind, but in that forsaken cafeteria all was black.
It had been a few times when Fiyori paced around the room at a leisurely pace, and yet stumbled upon or bumped into a table or a bench or even the edge of wall. It made noise each time and each time she waited for GLD to stir and rise. She didn't. But Fiyori settled with sitting down anyway.
It was a mistake, she found out. She closed her eyes at first. Let them stay closed for a few seconds. And soon a few minutes. She told herself she was merely resting them, as she would not need them either way, but all of a sudden she could feel herself slipping into sleep.
And again, she could feel herself waking up.
How much time did pass in the end? Fiyori didn't know, and she didn't care. She wouldn't care to tell GLD about that either.
Sitting alone in the darkness gave ample opportunity to think about whatever one pleased to think, though what Fiyori thought was less than pleasant. It was a terrible situation she was in, and she searched for words which could grasp fully the contempt she felt for her circumstances. She thoughts about it harder, she thought about the aching in her head, she thought about the shivering of her toes, she thought of the howling wind and she thought of the nausea she felt rising. She thought harder, and dug deeper. Deeper still, but all she found was chaos and noise.
For a moment, Fiyori rested. And for a moment, she wished that God would send a beast to come. A beast to dug it's claws deep into her throat, to tear her flesh out piece by piece, to devour her whole until all was still and Fiyori Senay would be no more.
She laughed, then. Softly, but laughed nonetheless. It was said people found faith in the most dire circumstances. A ridiculous notion, Fiyori claimed so often, and yet she could finally understand.
--
Fiyori would have liked if there was a way to find out whether GLD really slept. It was likely, as her breathing was slow, but even. She moved little, turned to the left and turned to the right from time to time. Fiyori thought about touching her, to lay her hand on her neck and see if her pulse had been low enough. She decided against it. One time her father was caressing her neck, and the sensation of his hand on her woke Fiyori immediately. She figured it would be like this for GLD as well.
Fiyori trusted that GLD would be asleep. If she was not, she guessed, she would have to think of a justification soon enough.
She moved into the kitchen. Slowly, with grace even. Paying attention to every inch that came before her, so that a careless movement of her long limbs would not cause her to fall. It had become easier to see, as the sun had began to rise. Fiyori would have guessed the time, if she knew where she was. It could have been five, could've been six. Maybe four, or maybe three. She didn't know, but it was getting brighter. It was enough to see a bit, and to search a bit too.
First was the sink. A bit rusty, a bit moldy. Enough for Fiyori to hesitate, but she resolved to put her hand in anyway. There were a few cups and pots in the sink, and Fiyori lifted them up and inspected them all. Mostly to find nothing, barring a few insects here and there. She tried to hold onto the edges of the sink and lift it from the cupboard, but she didn't manage that. Then she continued with the cupboard and shelves, pausing every time she opened one to see if GLD had waken up and was standing right behind her. She paused longer when the boards were stuck, and she had to pull harder to move them. The abrupt motion caused their contents to slid across the wood, creating enough noise to wake people. GLD seemed to be undisturbed, but Fiyori grew doubtful.
When she didn't find what she wanted to find in the boards or in the sink, she moved to inspect the ovens. Yet she found nothing. She moved on to inspect the dishwasher, and yet again she found nothing. Fiyori thought that it would be acceptable for her to grow irritated. Most people would in her situation, she guessed, but still she reminded herself to remain cautious. It was the fridge she chose to inspect last, and she found it was with good reason she did so. The moment she pulled the handle towards her, a ghastly stench emancipated from whatever was in there. She closed it quick. Perhaps too quick, but in the moment the noise was worth the suffering she spared her nose.
Defeated, Fiyori returned to the dining hall. The sun had risen a bit more. Not enough to call it a proper morning. But good enough for Fiyori to feel a glimmer of...
She halted. She didn't know.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
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Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Sleep slipped from her head like a tide recedes, as Georgia Lee faded into wakefulness. She lay perfectly still, content for the moment to get her bearing before she committed to any one action.
Fiyori was sitting some little ways away from her, facing towards the door, as Georgia Lee had done. It was nice, seeing the other girl had taken keeping watch seriously, and not entirely unsurprising. Even finding her still here was pleasant: Georgia Lee had entertained the very real possibility that Fiyori might try to flee in the night, taking all their belongings with her.
No, this was good. As good a way to start the day as any.
She swallowed stale spit, trying to ignore her own need for a shower, and raised herself up on one elbow. Her boots were on the floor where she'd taken them off, about a yard and a half away. Had they moved? Georgia Lee didn't think so, though it wasn't like it'd harm her if Fiyori had decided to search them. As long as the girl hadn't looked under the table, she was still fine.
Georgia Lee cleared her throat, then spoke, her voice sleep-husky.
"Hey, good morning."
Fiyori was sitting some little ways away from her, facing towards the door, as Georgia Lee had done. It was nice, seeing the other girl had taken keeping watch seriously, and not entirely unsurprising. Even finding her still here was pleasant: Georgia Lee had entertained the very real possibility that Fiyori might try to flee in the night, taking all their belongings with her.
No, this was good. As good a way to start the day as any.
She swallowed stale spit, trying to ignore her own need for a shower, and raised herself up on one elbow. Her boots were on the floor where she'd taken them off, about a yard and a half away. Had they moved? Georgia Lee didn't think so, though it wasn't like it'd harm her if Fiyori had decided to search them. As long as the girl hadn't looked under the table, she was still fine.
Georgia Lee cleared her throat, then spoke, her voice sleep-husky.
"Hey, good morning."
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Fiyori drifted in a state of hazy drowsiness for a while, though she managed to keep awake. More importantly, she managed to look at the door, looking competent and alert. Or something along those lines. GLD's greeting startled her, though, but she managed not to show it.
"Ah, morning."
Fiyori looked to the side, moved her head towards GLD. She was sounding like someone who just woke up, and she was looking like it. Which was of course - as a matter of fact - just the simple truth, but GLD half-laying on the table combined with that husky voice caused a bemused smile on her face. Georgia Lee Day, always so prim and proper, but even she looked like shit on a morning.
Kinda petty to think about that, but it was what it was.
She yawned. She stretched her limbs, all four at once and then jumped up but walked towards GLD with a slow pace.
"I suppose a report is due."
Fiyori nodded her head forwards, letting all her hair fall loosely on her face. She yawned once more, she stretched once more, and then grabbed all the hair she could grab and shoved it back behind her ears. A little band slid from her fingers unto her scalp, and she tied her hair into a quick bun.
"Nothing happened."
"Ah, morning."
Fiyori looked to the side, moved her head towards GLD. She was sounding like someone who just woke up, and she was looking like it. Which was of course - as a matter of fact - just the simple truth, but GLD half-laying on the table combined with that husky voice caused a bemused smile on her face. Georgia Lee Day, always so prim and proper, but even she looked like shit on a morning.
Kinda petty to think about that, but it was what it was.
She yawned. She stretched her limbs, all four at once and then jumped up but walked towards GLD with a slow pace.
"I suppose a report is due."
Fiyori nodded her head forwards, letting all her hair fall loosely on her face. She yawned once more, she stretched once more, and then grabbed all the hair she could grab and shoved it back behind her ears. A little band slid from her fingers unto her scalp, and she tied her hair into a quick bun.
"Nothing happened."
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Georgia Lee raised herself to a sitting position, her legs hanging off the side of the table. She straightened her skirt, noticing Fiyori's gaze.
"No, nothing on my end either."
She gave a little shrug.
"To be honest, it mightn't have been the best use of our time. I could barely see around the room once the sun went down, and I can't imagine you were much better without your glasses. I was mostly just listening out for things, and I'm pretty sure that if someone tried to make there way through that-" she indicated the barricade "-I'd hear it even if I were sleeping."
Georgia Lee had begun, simply out of habit, to comb her fingers through her hair, pulling out the knots. It was her practice to do this every night before bed, and having failed to do so it was tangled and oily. She could feel oil on her face, too, and longed for the blotting paper in the drawer beside her bed. Even some water would be nice, though what they had for the moment was far too scarce to be used on hygiene.
Cleanliness was a luxury that they simply could not afford.
"I'm a pretty light sleeper," she added.
She wasn't, as it happened, though she was sure she'd sleep far, far lighter on a plastic table than she would in her actual bed. Still, there was no harm done by having Fiyori think she could wake up on a dime.
Everything that discouraged the other girl from trying anything was essential.
"No, nothing on my end either."
She gave a little shrug.
"To be honest, it mightn't have been the best use of our time. I could barely see around the room once the sun went down, and I can't imagine you were much better without your glasses. I was mostly just listening out for things, and I'm pretty sure that if someone tried to make there way through that-" she indicated the barricade "-I'd hear it even if I were sleeping."
Georgia Lee had begun, simply out of habit, to comb her fingers through her hair, pulling out the knots. It was her practice to do this every night before bed, and having failed to do so it was tangled and oily. She could feel oil on her face, too, and longed for the blotting paper in the drawer beside her bed. Even some water would be nice, though what they had for the moment was far too scarce to be used on hygiene.
Cleanliness was a luxury that they simply could not afford.
"I'm a pretty light sleeper," she added.
She wasn't, as it happened, though she was sure she'd sleep far, far lighter on a plastic table than she would in her actual bed. Still, there was no harm done by having Fiyori think she could wake up on a dime.
Everything that discouraged the other girl from trying anything was essential.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler frogue. 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.
A light sleeper. A-ha.
Fiyori stared at GLD for a few moments, trying to think about what she said. She would have liked to see the bewildered look on her own face, and she wondered how GLD would interpret that, too.
For a moment, Fiyori felt like retorting with a sarcastic remark, regardless of how GLD would take it. In the end she didn't, mostly for the reason that she didn't think of anything witty enough. Instead, she just nodded and gave her a quick and stout verbal affirmation.
Actually, she just thought of a thing she could say. Throw at her head, rather. If GLD tried to mess with Fiyori with statements like those, then Fiyori could very well turn the tables and attack her with a few well-chosen words.
Her gaze lingered on her ally, who had by now sat up properly. She was considering it. Considering it strongly, but just as she was to start, a sound echoing from somewhere startled her.
It had sounded like a PA system starting up, and Fiyori quickly understood that it was just that.
All of her attention that had been given to GLD moved to fixate on the voice of Danya. And though she did her best to listen to all he had to say, she found it difficult to really understand him. It wasn't a matter of audio quality at all, or something that had to do with her physical status. She heard him list all those names, all those familiar names of friends and acquaintances and people of her classes and people of other classes. She heard the victims, she heard the killers, she heard every joke he made at their expense.
It was a lot like rain. She would sit at her desk, or lie on her bed, and she would notice the rain drops drumming on her window. She'd grow curious, and move over to watch them. She'd notice all the single drops hitting the glass, and then sliding down slowly under her watch. She saw that it rained, she saw that the wind was carrying it towards her. And yet she never became wet. Danya's words were just like that. She understood that people were killed - people she cared for. She understood that people were killing. Yet she didn't become wet. There was no emotion stirred in Fiyori, and a few moments later, this fact would cause her discomfort.
Danya stopped, and Fiyori looked over to Georgia Lee again. Would it have been proper to comment on what they just heard? She didn't know, and even if it was, she wouldn't know what to say.
Fiyori stared at GLD for a few moments, trying to think about what she said. She would have liked to see the bewildered look on her own face, and she wondered how GLD would interpret that, too.
For a moment, Fiyori felt like retorting with a sarcastic remark, regardless of how GLD would take it. In the end she didn't, mostly for the reason that she didn't think of anything witty enough. Instead, she just nodded and gave her a quick and stout verbal affirmation.
Actually, she just thought of a thing she could say. Throw at her head, rather. If GLD tried to mess with Fiyori with statements like those, then Fiyori could very well turn the tables and attack her with a few well-chosen words.
Her gaze lingered on her ally, who had by now sat up properly. She was considering it. Considering it strongly, but just as she was to start, a sound echoing from somewhere startled her.
It had sounded like a PA system starting up, and Fiyori quickly understood that it was just that.
All of her attention that had been given to GLD moved to fixate on the voice of Danya. And though she did her best to listen to all he had to say, she found it difficult to really understand him. It wasn't a matter of audio quality at all, or something that had to do with her physical status. She heard him list all those names, all those familiar names of friends and acquaintances and people of her classes and people of other classes. She heard the victims, she heard the killers, she heard every joke he made at their expense.
It was a lot like rain. She would sit at her desk, or lie on her bed, and she would notice the rain drops drumming on her window. She'd grow curious, and move over to watch them. She'd notice all the single drops hitting the glass, and then sliding down slowly under her watch. She saw that it rained, she saw that the wind was carrying it towards her. And yet she never became wet. Danya's words were just like that. She understood that people were killed - people she cared for. She understood that people were killing. Yet she didn't become wet. There was no emotion stirred in Fiyori, and a few moments later, this fact would cause her discomfort.
Danya stopped, and Fiyori looked over to Georgia Lee again. Would it have been proper to comment on what they just heard? She didn't know, and even if it was, she wouldn't know what to say.
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Georgia Lee walked to the desk where she's scratched the names of her friends, feet still just in her socks, her steps silent. Taking the scissor blade in a shaking, clammy fist she scratched a line through Cristo's name. Then a line through Abby's.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler frogue. 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.
Fiyori still did not know what to say. She didn't even know how to move, or how to gesticulate. Even the distortions of her face. All of it seemed to be so inappropriate when Fiyori observed herself. She figured she would say something. Figured again, but she kept looking after GLD. Kept watching her.
Georgia Lee was moving over to the desk. She took the blade of the scissor. And then she carved. A line. Then another line. Fiyori could hear the wood being scratched away, and for a moment it was deafening.
"I..."
She hesitated. There was a bird somewhere, outside. She could hear it's song, she could hear it's flattering wings.
"I'm sorry."
Georgia Lee was moving over to the desk. She took the blade of the scissor. And then she carved. A line. Then another line. Fiyori could hear the wood being scratched away, and for a moment it was deafening.
"I..."
She hesitated. There was a bird somewhere, outside. She could hear it's song, she could hear it's flattering wings.
"I'm sorry."
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|