((Johnny didn't think he'd hate camping so much.))
Okay, in fairness, this wasn't like regular camping with like, tents, other people, and shit. He was alone and out in the open for whatever wild animal or murderous fuck to come by and fuck him up. Johnny was unhappy, obviously. He'd eaten a meal bar and finished half a bottle of water and curled up in the corner of a tree, hopefully away from prying eyes.
Johnny hadn't expected to fall asleep so easily, but apparently he was just tired. Good for him. He also didn't get his throat slit at night, which was also a good start to his day. Now he just had to wait until the fuckers told him who was alive and who was dead. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected. Who did he think was gonna die? Did it matter?
Zipping his pants up, Johnny turned away from the corner of his tree/urinal and picked up his bag. The good news (because there was so much now, wasn't there) was that the woods were probably big and confusing enough that nobody would be able to find him as long as he didn't start screaming or crying. Just fantastic.
"Fuck..." Johnny mumbled. Shouldering the bag, he scooped up the shotgun. He'd survived a whole day, but that didn't mean much if he died today. He dropped his bag and started rifling through it for his map.
Like A Pack of Wild Dogs
Open, pre-announcements Day 2
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
((Juliette Sargent continued from Student Government))
A night in the woods hadn't been as bad as Juliette might've expected. It was surely unpleasant, in the general sort of way that came with uncontrolled nature and had led humanity to create shelters to begin with, but she could manage. The undergrowth wasn't too thick. It wasn't like stumbling through burs and briers to the edge of a dirty river. She'd brushed a few scraps of dirt and grass and loose bark from the backs of her calves and had grudgingly switched to her flats soon after leaving the village. Her new footwear was already getting a little ragged, and that bothered her more than it should have.
She'd slept propped against a tree. Juliette was passably versed in sleeping vertically, from bus rides past and snatching naps where she could in free periods and from dozing off at her desk from time to time. It had its benefits, especially when it came to not rolling around in the dirt and ruining her clothes, which had suddenly become an extremely limited resource. There were enough indignities to be suffered here already; she'd found a semi-functional lavatory in the town, but that had been hours and hours ago and at a certain point she'd had to get over herself and crouch behind a bush. With that sort of experience becoming nigh-universal among her peers, there was something to be said for maintaining an air of decorum in other respects.
Especially since, ultimately, she was hopefully on her way to a job interview, and a tough one. She was more aware of the fallout from past versions of the atrocity she now found herself playing lead in than she was with the specific details of the violence, and one thing she knew was that, despite a cursory suggestion to the contrary, the offer of induction into the ranks of their captors was not universal. The boy who'd killed haphazardly, who'd been murdered in turn even after his victory, Juliette remembered hearing no reference to his ever being offered a spot. Curious, since he was the only one who'd seemed fitted for it.
But then, perhaps not. Perhaps that was precisely why he'd been snubbed. Juliette had read a piece touching on the subject, once, and couldn't remember what she was stealing from that article and what was her own conjecture, but she had a pretty clear idea of the whats and whys nonetheless: she believed that the offer was not made in good faith. Having winners out there—living vaguely decently lives somewhere the public could, if not shine a spotlight on them, at least be aware of their continued existence—worked in the favor of the Taskforce by proving that their promise of survival and release to the last one standing was ultimately sincere. Keeping that survivor in their ranks, by contrast, would suggest a measure of unwillingness to the arrangement. And yet, she doubted they would retract the offer should it actually be accepted; if they would, why not roll the dice with Rizzolo? Or, at least, she thought they would consider reasonable points and hear out argument on the matter. Still, that meant she had to act in a way that both demonstrated her value and suggested reluctance she didn't feel, so she'd be most likely to be offered the opportunity she sought in the first place.
Of course, she'd cooked up contingencies too. She wasn't negligent.
This was what she'd been turning over in her head as she redid her hair and makeup. It was early. Her position propped against a tree had left her stiff and uncomfortable but nothing a few minutes of reaching for her toes and massaging her thighs couldn't work out. Her hair hadn't been too bad; she kept a brush in her handbag at all times for a reason. Her makeup was another story. She preferred to use her compact only for touching up, relying on a larger bathroom mirror to set things up properly, and while this wasn't the first time she'd been forced to rely on a portable option for a day's application it remained less than ideal, especially as her hands trembled just a little bit. She'd been hoping the announcements would play while she worked, to let her know how things were developing, but she'd misjudged the time.
Another distraction presented itself just as she snapped her compact shut, however. A murmur of profanity, a thump of something hitting the ground (too faint to be a body) coming from somewhere off behind the tree Juliette had spent the night sheltering behind. Cautiously, she stood again, wiggling her toes to get the blood flowing, and peered around the thick trunk.
Nobody fighting or killing. Good. A nondescript, grungy-looking blonde guy in jeans, a windbreaker, and most notably boots, about twenty feet off into the woods. She thought she caught a hint of white on his shin. It took only a moment longer to sift the files in her mind and recover his name.
"Good morning, Johnny," Juliette called, offering him a pleasant but restrained wave. She did not yet approach him.
A night in the woods hadn't been as bad as Juliette might've expected. It was surely unpleasant, in the general sort of way that came with uncontrolled nature and had led humanity to create shelters to begin with, but she could manage. The undergrowth wasn't too thick. It wasn't like stumbling through burs and briers to the edge of a dirty river. She'd brushed a few scraps of dirt and grass and loose bark from the backs of her calves and had grudgingly switched to her flats soon after leaving the village. Her new footwear was already getting a little ragged, and that bothered her more than it should have.
She'd slept propped against a tree. Juliette was passably versed in sleeping vertically, from bus rides past and snatching naps where she could in free periods and from dozing off at her desk from time to time. It had its benefits, especially when it came to not rolling around in the dirt and ruining her clothes, which had suddenly become an extremely limited resource. There were enough indignities to be suffered here already; she'd found a semi-functional lavatory in the town, but that had been hours and hours ago and at a certain point she'd had to get over herself and crouch behind a bush. With that sort of experience becoming nigh-universal among her peers, there was something to be said for maintaining an air of decorum in other respects.
Especially since, ultimately, she was hopefully on her way to a job interview, and a tough one. She was more aware of the fallout from past versions of the atrocity she now found herself playing lead in than she was with the specific details of the violence, and one thing she knew was that, despite a cursory suggestion to the contrary, the offer of induction into the ranks of their captors was not universal. The boy who'd killed haphazardly, who'd been murdered in turn even after his victory, Juliette remembered hearing no reference to his ever being offered a spot. Curious, since he was the only one who'd seemed fitted for it.
But then, perhaps not. Perhaps that was precisely why he'd been snubbed. Juliette had read a piece touching on the subject, once, and couldn't remember what she was stealing from that article and what was her own conjecture, but she had a pretty clear idea of the whats and whys nonetheless: she believed that the offer was not made in good faith. Having winners out there—living vaguely decently lives somewhere the public could, if not shine a spotlight on them, at least be aware of their continued existence—worked in the favor of the Taskforce by proving that their promise of survival and release to the last one standing was ultimately sincere. Keeping that survivor in their ranks, by contrast, would suggest a measure of unwillingness to the arrangement. And yet, she doubted they would retract the offer should it actually be accepted; if they would, why not roll the dice with Rizzolo? Or, at least, she thought they would consider reasonable points and hear out argument on the matter. Still, that meant she had to act in a way that both demonstrated her value and suggested reluctance she didn't feel, so she'd be most likely to be offered the opportunity she sought in the first place.
Of course, she'd cooked up contingencies too. She wasn't negligent.
This was what she'd been turning over in her head as she redid her hair and makeup. It was early. Her position propped against a tree had left her stiff and uncomfortable but nothing a few minutes of reaching for her toes and massaging her thighs couldn't work out. Her hair hadn't been too bad; she kept a brush in her handbag at all times for a reason. Her makeup was another story. She preferred to use her compact only for touching up, relying on a larger bathroom mirror to set things up properly, and while this wasn't the first time she'd been forced to rely on a portable option for a day's application it remained less than ideal, especially as her hands trembled just a little bit. She'd been hoping the announcements would play while she worked, to let her know how things were developing, but she'd misjudged the time.
Another distraction presented itself just as she snapped her compact shut, however. A murmur of profanity, a thump of something hitting the ground (too faint to be a body) coming from somewhere off behind the tree Juliette had spent the night sheltering behind. Cautiously, she stood again, wiggling her toes to get the blood flowing, and peered around the thick trunk.
Nobody fighting or killing. Good. A nondescript, grungy-looking blonde guy in jeans, a windbreaker, and most notably boots, about twenty feet off into the woods. She thought she caught a hint of white on his shin. It took only a moment longer to sift the files in her mind and recover his name.
"Good morning, Johnny," Juliette called, offering him a pleasant but restrained wave. She did not yet approach him.
The woods hadn't been such a bad idea after all, evidently.
Julien had, again, not slept as well as he'd have hoped. His mouth was dry as a desert, his eyes violently objected to all the light being poured into them, and there was an unfortunate ache in his side. Only having a duffle bag for a pillow and the ground to lay on would do that. But he hadn't woken up a corpse, or with everything he had spirited away in the dead of night, so it would have to do.
[ Julien Leblanc continued from Deep Red Bells. Refer here for current appearance. ]
Easing his way up to stand, he took the time to brush broken twigs, leaves, grass and dirt off the back of his shirt and jeans. It didn't take all that long, fortunately, and with that out of the way...
The joints popping in his neck and arms as he stretched them out weren't nearly loud enough to drown out the voice of the girl calling out to someone. He didn't know anyone named Johnny going by what memories his half-capacity brain offered up for perusal, so that saved him the trouble of being vague until he got a name. He definitely knew the girl though; Juliette's voice was very much familiar, owing to all that earnest effort to campaign she'd made right up until it didn't go her way.
He couldn't judge exactly how far away they were by distance, but it was close enough to immediately discern the direction Juliette's voice came from. She certainly wasn't right next to him, however, so Johnny wouldn't be either. That was good enough for him.
He wouldn't be calling out to either of them himself just yet though. First he needed a drink, and one of those painkillers too. So he opened up his backpack, very carefully so the zipper didn't give away his presence and scare one of the other two present, to get those very things.
About a minute or so later, Julien felt rather more able to actually speak without worry that he might choke on his own spit. So he did.
"Figured I wasn't the only one who had this idea. Morning to you as well, Juliette."
Nothing about waking up in this fucking nightmare was good. And his eyes still stung.
Julien had, again, not slept as well as he'd have hoped. His mouth was dry as a desert, his eyes violently objected to all the light being poured into them, and there was an unfortunate ache in his side. Only having a duffle bag for a pillow and the ground to lay on would do that. But he hadn't woken up a corpse, or with everything he had spirited away in the dead of night, so it would have to do.
[ Julien Leblanc continued from Deep Red Bells. Refer here for current appearance. ]
Easing his way up to stand, he took the time to brush broken twigs, leaves, grass and dirt off the back of his shirt and jeans. It didn't take all that long, fortunately, and with that out of the way...
The joints popping in his neck and arms as he stretched them out weren't nearly loud enough to drown out the voice of the girl calling out to someone. He didn't know anyone named Johnny going by what memories his half-capacity brain offered up for perusal, so that saved him the trouble of being vague until he got a name. He definitely knew the girl though; Juliette's voice was very much familiar, owing to all that earnest effort to campaign she'd made right up until it didn't go her way.
He couldn't judge exactly how far away they were by distance, but it was close enough to immediately discern the direction Juliette's voice came from. She certainly wasn't right next to him, however, so Johnny wouldn't be either. That was good enough for him.
He wouldn't be calling out to either of them himself just yet though. First he needed a drink, and one of those painkillers too. So he opened up his backpack, very carefully so the zipper didn't give away his presence and scare one of the other two present, to get those very things.
About a minute or so later, Julien felt rather more able to actually speak without worry that he might choke on his own spit. So he did.
"Figured I wasn't the only one who had this idea. Morning to you as well, Juliette."
Nothing about waking up in this fucking nightmare was good. And his eyes still stung.
He'd just gotten his map out when some bitch started shouting at him.
"Who the hell?!" He looked over. In the distance, nothing in her hands, was Juliette Sargent. He knew her-how could you not-but he didn't really like, know her. She was just the perfect little straight-A, student council, whatever student. He hated people like that, just had fucking everything going for her. She still looked nice, somehow. Seriously.
Oh, and there was someone else too, just fucking typical. Johnny didn't actually know the guy off-hand. He had a fuckoff spear or something on his bag, but Johnny had a gun, and there was a lot of distance there. No worries, at least. He had really dorky t-shirt on, and it was torn. That was about it.
"Okay. Hi? Uh, what do you want?" It was an honest question, really. What the hell were they thinking, just walking up to him all casual-like? He had a shotgun in his hands. God, people just did not respect that apparently.
"Who the hell?!" He looked over. In the distance, nothing in her hands, was Juliette Sargent. He knew her-how could you not-but he didn't really like, know her. She was just the perfect little straight-A, student council, whatever student. He hated people like that, just had fucking everything going for her. She still looked nice, somehow. Seriously.
Oh, and there was someone else too, just fucking typical. Johnny didn't actually know the guy off-hand. He had a fuckoff spear or something on his bag, but Johnny had a gun, and there was a lot of distance there. No worries, at least. He had really dorky t-shirt on, and it was torn. That was about it.
"Okay. Hi? Uh, what do you want?" It was an honest question, really. What the hell were they thinking, just walking up to him all casual-like? He had a shotgun in his hands. God, people just did not respect that apparently.
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Voices, voices, voices....
He could hear them and his head was pounding with a severe headache. How long had it been since he had stumbled off into the night? Was Cecil, Jackson and Bill safe from Gervais who had given in to their sick torment and torture? If they didn't have the collars.... Would things have been easier for all of them? He didn't know, he didn't know anything at all. He was just a scared kid in a cruel situation that he couldn't even understand.
((Drew Woods continued from Lonely as the Sound of Lying on the Ground of an Airplane Going Down))
Drew couldn't even remember falling asleep against a tree and setting down his lone bag on his good side. He couldn't really more his bad arm as it still felt like it was about to fall off at any moment and just thinking about it was terrifying him more. But he could only get weak wheezing noises to come out of his mouth and his throat was feeling so dry. His bandages were starting to get soaked with his blood more and he wondered if he was losing too much blood. He wished that he hadn't left Jackson. He had disobeyed because he was a selfish coward that had been too scared and maybe he was looking out for himself after all.
I left them. Cecil, Jackson, Bill, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...!
Drew was hidden behind the tree as he sat and listened to the three people talking and he wondered if he should ask them for help. His minds was going blank on names and the voices didn't sound familiar to him. He honestly had no idea who was friendly anymore. No, that was a lie. The three boys.... Jackson who saved him, Cecil who stayed by his side while he couldn't do the same, Bill who tried to be a peacemaker in an intense stand-off.... They were good people to Drew. But Gervais.... Drew didn't know what to think about him anymore. How could he ever forgive that guy for trying to blow his arm off?
"I can't forgive him...." Drew muttered to himself quietly and he was trying to unzip his bag with his good hand, hoping to get out a bottle of water out without any problem. "Please don't draw their attention, don't d-draw.... their attention, don't draw their.... a....attention...."
Drew's words got more quieter and they trailed off as he was trying to listen to the voices talking not that far from him.
He could hear them and his head was pounding with a severe headache. How long had it been since he had stumbled off into the night? Was Cecil, Jackson and Bill safe from Gervais who had given in to their sick torment and torture? If they didn't have the collars.... Would things have been easier for all of them? He didn't know, he didn't know anything at all. He was just a scared kid in a cruel situation that he couldn't even understand.
((Drew Woods continued from Lonely as the Sound of Lying on the Ground of an Airplane Going Down))
Drew couldn't even remember falling asleep against a tree and setting down his lone bag on his good side. He couldn't really more his bad arm as it still felt like it was about to fall off at any moment and just thinking about it was terrifying him more. But he could only get weak wheezing noises to come out of his mouth and his throat was feeling so dry. His bandages were starting to get soaked with his blood more and he wondered if he was losing too much blood. He wished that he hadn't left Jackson. He had disobeyed because he was a selfish coward that had been too scared and maybe he was looking out for himself after all.
I left them. Cecil, Jackson, Bill, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...!
Drew was hidden behind the tree as he sat and listened to the three people talking and he wondered if he should ask them for help. His minds was going blank on names and the voices didn't sound familiar to him. He honestly had no idea who was friendly anymore. No, that was a lie. The three boys.... Jackson who saved him, Cecil who stayed by his side while he couldn't do the same, Bill who tried to be a peacemaker in an intense stand-off.... They were good people to Drew. But Gervais.... Drew didn't know what to think about him anymore. How could he ever forgive that guy for trying to blow his arm off?
"I can't forgive him...." Drew muttered to himself quietly and he was trying to unzip his bag with his good hand, hoping to get out a bottle of water out without any problem. "Please don't draw their attention, don't d-draw.... their attention, don't draw their.... a....attention...."
Drew's words got more quieter and they trailed off as he was trying to listen to the voices talking not that far from him.
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
"Morning, Julien," Juliette said with a nod towards the new arrival. He looked a bit the worse for wear, but uninjured, at least at a glance. There was a little bit of smugness that ran through her at the condition of his pants. He'd been wading, it seemed. It might be interesting to find out exactly why.
Right now, though, the world was volatile, rife with potential and tension. It would surely not be long now until the announcements cut through the silence, and when they did there was a chance for secrets to be revealed. Juliette knew that she would not be forcibly unmasked—or, well, put it at about ninety-five percent certainty; there was the faint possibility that Kelly had managed to drown quickly enough for it to somehow be construed as Juliette's responsibility, but she doubted it to the point she gave navigating such a situation only token consideration—but what about the two boys?
Both of them had obviously seen, if not necessarily more conflict than her, at least more give and take. By their demeanors, however, she doubted that any particularly horrible revelations were impending. She didn't think Johnny would stick around for it were he guilty; he'd either walk off with a threat or else order them away. And if he were the sort to shoot whoever he saw, someone would've already been shot. Julien, he was trickier. He had come a long way from getting caught out by Faith in the election speeches. Juliette knew only bits and pieces, but he struck her as slightly uncanny, and very much a wild card if even half the whispers were to be believed. And yet, all the same, to stand here quietly and make no attempt to get ahead of his outing in the presence of an unpredictable and edgy boy with a gun seemed the wrong type of careless for him.
So then, the real question became whether the boys had also quickly sussed this out, or whether each was waiting with bated breath to see what was exposed about the others. She hoped it wasn't the latter. That would create a whole lot of potential for things to turn bad for no reason whatsoever, off of a moment of edginess or a mishearing, and that was the sort of situation she considered herself least prepared to cope with or take advantage of. That was Marco pulling the trigger on the ship, apropos of nothing she could figure out.
Come to think of it, what would the news on that front be?
"And," she said, answering Johnny directly, "I don't necessarily want anything. I just woke up a bit ago and heard you and figured we'd both have a better time if I announced my presence instead of risking surprising you."
She nodded loosely at the gun he held. It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the whole truth; there was a lot to be said for learning what others had been through, for socialization, for keeping options open. Floating alone was safe, but it was also generally devoid of opportunity, and Juliette had to prove herself the capable opportunist she knew herself to be.
These two would be okay, she thought, for now. Johnny had his anger and his gun, but Juliette had placated and worked around people with significantly thornier temperaments, in nuance if not in magnitude. Julien she thought a loose ideological ally in the context of school, which meant little here but that might not be something he'd realized yet. She trusted him significantly less than Johnny, but trusting was foolish, betrayal the lesson of the day, so it was better to be around those where there'd be no temptation to begin with.
In any event, the two boys were both more imposing and more visibly affected by the island than her, which she thought should if nothing else keep their attentions on each other.
Right now, though, the world was volatile, rife with potential and tension. It would surely not be long now until the announcements cut through the silence, and when they did there was a chance for secrets to be revealed. Juliette knew that she would not be forcibly unmasked—or, well, put it at about ninety-five percent certainty; there was the faint possibility that Kelly had managed to drown quickly enough for it to somehow be construed as Juliette's responsibility, but she doubted it to the point she gave navigating such a situation only token consideration—but what about the two boys?
Both of them had obviously seen, if not necessarily more conflict than her, at least more give and take. By their demeanors, however, she doubted that any particularly horrible revelations were impending. She didn't think Johnny would stick around for it were he guilty; he'd either walk off with a threat or else order them away. And if he were the sort to shoot whoever he saw, someone would've already been shot. Julien, he was trickier. He had come a long way from getting caught out by Faith in the election speeches. Juliette knew only bits and pieces, but he struck her as slightly uncanny, and very much a wild card if even half the whispers were to be believed. And yet, all the same, to stand here quietly and make no attempt to get ahead of his outing in the presence of an unpredictable and edgy boy with a gun seemed the wrong type of careless for him.
So then, the real question became whether the boys had also quickly sussed this out, or whether each was waiting with bated breath to see what was exposed about the others. She hoped it wasn't the latter. That would create a whole lot of potential for things to turn bad for no reason whatsoever, off of a moment of edginess or a mishearing, and that was the sort of situation she considered herself least prepared to cope with or take advantage of. That was Marco pulling the trigger on the ship, apropos of nothing she could figure out.
Come to think of it, what would the news on that front be?
"And," she said, answering Johnny directly, "I don't necessarily want anything. I just woke up a bit ago and heard you and figured we'd both have a better time if I announced my presence instead of risking surprising you."
She nodded loosely at the gun he held. It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the whole truth; there was a lot to be said for learning what others had been through, for socialization, for keeping options open. Floating alone was safe, but it was also generally devoid of opportunity, and Juliette had to prove herself the capable opportunist she knew herself to be.
These two would be okay, she thought, for now. Johnny had his anger and his gun, but Juliette had placated and worked around people with significantly thornier temperaments, in nuance if not in magnitude. Julien she thought a loose ideological ally in the context of school, which meant little here but that might not be something he'd realized yet. She trusted him significantly less than Johnny, but trusting was foolish, betrayal the lesson of the day, so it was better to be around those where there'd be no temptation to begin with.
In any event, the two boys were both more imposing and more visibly affected by the island than her, which she thought should if nothing else keep their attentions on each other.
What did he want? What an absurd question. He could say he wanted world peace, blowjobs for all, and retirement to somewhere sunny with everyone he cared for along for the ride. What he, or anyone else, wanted was of little importance now.
"Personally, a cold drink and a lap dance sound nice right about now," Julien said, taking the best look at Johnny and Juliette that he was able to from where he stood, "but that's wishful thinking, so I'll settle for just wanting someone to talk to."
What stood out about Johnny first and foremost was that he looked a little messy, and he was armed with a shotgun. A gun in and of itself wasn't all that threatening to him (honestly, if he shot him now chances were he'd be doing him a favour), especially not with his time spent firing them, but he respected their capabilities all the more for it too; if he did have the gun turned his way, a good clean hit at this range wasn't something Julien would get up from. Still, it wasn't actively being aimed at anyone, so he would give him the benefit of the doubt and act as normal.
Juliette, on the other hand, wasn't openly armed and looked... almost pristine. Much too clean, really, even after only a day in this place. It left him with the feeling that she sought to wear a mask, and he was no stranger to those; in a game where the point was to try and drag the twisted little animal inside its participants out into the light, he wasn't about to trust someone who tried to paint on a false face in such a way.
Perhaps literally. It did look like she had make-up on.
"Personally, a cold drink and a lap dance sound nice right about now," Julien said, taking the best look at Johnny and Juliette that he was able to from where he stood, "but that's wishful thinking, so I'll settle for just wanting someone to talk to."
What stood out about Johnny first and foremost was that he looked a little messy, and he was armed with a shotgun. A gun in and of itself wasn't all that threatening to him (honestly, if he shot him now chances were he'd be doing him a favour), especially not with his time spent firing them, but he respected their capabilities all the more for it too; if he did have the gun turned his way, a good clean hit at this range wasn't something Julien would get up from. Still, it wasn't actively being aimed at anyone, so he would give him the benefit of the doubt and act as normal.
Juliette, on the other hand, wasn't openly armed and looked... almost pristine. Much too clean, really, even after only a day in this place. It left him with the feeling that she sought to wear a mask, and he was no stranger to those; in a game where the point was to try and drag the twisted little animal inside its participants out into the light, he wasn't about to trust someone who tried to paint on a false face in such a way.
Perhaps literally. It did look like she had make-up on.
Juliette...made sense. Johnny had to admit it. If she'd surprised him, he probably would have shot her. Would anyone blame him? He had a 50/50 rate of people surprising him and trying to kill him.
Whatshisface..."Hilarious, man. Fucking A-plus." People seemed pretty keen on joking around here, what with whatsherface yesterday. Johnny switched his gaze between the two of them. Juliette was all calm and composed, and that was weird, but maybe that was just who she was. He didn't really know her well enough to say otherwise, so whatever. To be honest, though...
"Great, you have each other. Leave me alone." Johnny glowered at the two. Why Julien wanted to just make conversation with Johnny was beyond him, unless he had some kind of trick in mind. And fuck that.
Whatshisface..."Hilarious, man. Fucking A-plus." People seemed pretty keen on joking around here, what with whatsherface yesterday. Johnny switched his gaze between the two of them. Juliette was all calm and composed, and that was weird, but maybe that was just who she was. He didn't really know her well enough to say otherwise, so whatever. To be honest, though...
"Great, you have each other. Leave me alone." Johnny glowered at the two. Why Julien wanted to just make conversation with Johnny was beyond him, unless he had some kind of trick in mind. And fuck that.
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Drew wasn't sure how he felt about the three voices. Two were clearly boys and the other was a girl. At least that was what he was thinking while he was trying to listen to them as carefully as he could in his condition. It was getting harder and harder for him to focus on what was going on and he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a while. But he knew that he couldn't do that. What if his arm was going to get worse for him? Drew was no doctor. But it still didn't look that good to him. Should he try to go back?
I'm so....sleepy.... No, no, no! I can't sleep....
Drew's eyelids were drooping slightly as he was trying to raise the bottle of water up a bit and his good arm was trembling all the while. He was finding it harder and harder to stay awake and he wished that he wasn't this weak. He wished that he was much more stronger and braver like a lot of other people. Not like the Carters tho. They were a bit too overpowered in his eyes. His sleepy, sleepy eyes....
The water bottle fell out of his hand's loose hold and it thudded onto the ground, rolling under a bush and it stopped in view of the others. At least that was what Drew was thinking in that moment and he felt panic start to go through his mind. Was he going to get attacked...? Again...?
He couldn't move from where he was. So he just stayed quiet and just hoped to God that they had not noticed his full bottle of water at all.
I'm so....sleepy.... No, no, no! I can't sleep....
Drew's eyelids were drooping slightly as he was trying to raise the bottle of water up a bit and his good arm was trembling all the while. He was finding it harder and harder to stay awake and he wished that he wasn't this weak. He wished that he was much more stronger and braver like a lot of other people. Not like the Carters tho. They were a bit too overpowered in his eyes. His sleepy, sleepy eyes....
The water bottle fell out of his hand's loose hold and it thudded onto the ground, rolling under a bush and it stopped in view of the others. At least that was what Drew was thinking in that moment and he felt panic start to go through his mind. Was he going to get attacked...? Again...?
He couldn't move from where he was. So he just stayed quiet and just hoped to God that they had not noticed his full bottle of water at all.
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Juliette let her lips quirk upwards at Julien's quip. It was good to see that somebody else was still himself in this place. Well, two somebodies, really; it was just that the person Johnny was had been fairly unpleasant even in the context of their old lives. In any case, their respective responses suggested to her that she and they were not in immediate danger from each other. Oh, she would keep her eyes and ears open anyways. Logical deductions were one thing, and trust quite another. And she would never, ever trust her classmates to be logical.
"Fair enough," she said to Johnny, with a nod. "Take care of yourself."
She was about to make good on her acquiescence and head towards Julien to engage in further conversation, when two things happened almost at once that drastically altered the situation.
One occurrence was expected. There was a faint crackling of electronics from all around, and then the silence was cut by a voice, recognizable, not yet comforting in its familiarity, but that would come with time. This was important to pay attention to, Juliette knew this, but at the same time her focus was split by the second occurrence, which had actually taken place a few seconds before.
It was a plastic water bottle, standard issue, just like those in her own daypack. It came rolling out from underneath a bush off behind Johnny, and she took a second to try to estimate its origin point based on trajectory and velocity. It wasn't moving too quickly, looked like it had been dropped rather than rolled intentionally. That meant somebody was hiding, or at least was in no hurry to introduce themselves. Given the three of them were having a perfectly civil conversation, she was going to assume that was not a sign of friendly intentions.
The first two named were Abel and Toby, courtesy of Paloma and Tirzah. Juliette could see it. Not the deaths, exactly; she wasn't that terribly interested in taking too much time to let them become real in her mind. It was hard to imagine, that she'd never see the boys around the halls of George Hunter again, but less difficult than the fact that she herself would never be back in those familiar places, no matter what happened. The killers, though, they had that air about them, the sort that said they wouldn't roll over and slip quietly away. At the same time, they lacked the subtlety to play things out properly.
Juliette took two quick, quiet steps to maneuver herself out of direct line to the bottle's point of origin. At the same time, she raised a finger to her lips, caught first Julien's eye, then Johnny's.
Christine and Beryl, next. By the hand and tooth of Nick and Ty, not respectively. She'd thought Ty's reputation overblown. Perhaps not, or perhaps he was like any cornered animal marked for extermination due to being unappealing.
Juliette tilted her finger from her lips, pointing from her chin in the direction of the bottle.
"We've got company," she murmured, quiet enough to be buried beneath the booming electronic voice at a greater distance. She didn't want to clue their visitor in that they were aware of the trespass. Leave that to one of the boys, if it had to happen. They would make more appealing initial targets anyways, armed as they were.
Felix, once more by Ty. Juliette was good at multitasking, and the roiling adrenaline made everything clearer and slower, but she still could not suppress her irritation at being interrupted right now, at this critical juncture, when there was so much to lose by not paying attention.
"Fair enough," she said to Johnny, with a nod. "Take care of yourself."
She was about to make good on her acquiescence and head towards Julien to engage in further conversation, when two things happened almost at once that drastically altered the situation.
One occurrence was expected. There was a faint crackling of electronics from all around, and then the silence was cut by a voice, recognizable, not yet comforting in its familiarity, but that would come with time. This was important to pay attention to, Juliette knew this, but at the same time her focus was split by the second occurrence, which had actually taken place a few seconds before.
It was a plastic water bottle, standard issue, just like those in her own daypack. It came rolling out from underneath a bush off behind Johnny, and she took a second to try to estimate its origin point based on trajectory and velocity. It wasn't moving too quickly, looked like it had been dropped rather than rolled intentionally. That meant somebody was hiding, or at least was in no hurry to introduce themselves. Given the three of them were having a perfectly civil conversation, she was going to assume that was not a sign of friendly intentions.
The first two named were Abel and Toby, courtesy of Paloma and Tirzah. Juliette could see it. Not the deaths, exactly; she wasn't that terribly interested in taking too much time to let them become real in her mind. It was hard to imagine, that she'd never see the boys around the halls of George Hunter again, but less difficult than the fact that she herself would never be back in those familiar places, no matter what happened. The killers, though, they had that air about them, the sort that said they wouldn't roll over and slip quietly away. At the same time, they lacked the subtlety to play things out properly.
Juliette took two quick, quiet steps to maneuver herself out of direct line to the bottle's point of origin. At the same time, she raised a finger to her lips, caught first Julien's eye, then Johnny's.
Christine and Beryl, next. By the hand and tooth of Nick and Ty, not respectively. She'd thought Ty's reputation overblown. Perhaps not, or perhaps he was like any cornered animal marked for extermination due to being unappealing.
Juliette tilted her finger from her lips, pointing from her chin in the direction of the bottle.
"We've got company," she murmured, quiet enough to be buried beneath the booming electronic voice at a greater distance. She didn't want to clue their visitor in that they were aware of the trespass. Leave that to one of the boys, if it had to happen. They would make more appealing initial targets anyways, armed as they were.
Felix, once more by Ty. Juliette was good at multitasking, and the roiling adrenaline made everything clearer and slower, but she still could not suppress her irritation at being interrupted right now, at this critical juncture, when there was so much to lose by not paying attention.
Beryl and Dante too. The names of the people who killed them were stated, at least. Paloma, Nick, and...
It wasn't exactly right to say that he was surprised. No, he had guessed that they would take to the game. But to do it so readily, and to kill Dante of all the people? Hearing of it would have hurt no matter who it had been, but that just made it all the worse.
And he just knew that should he find them, all they would offer him was fucking lies and excuses, and the truth of why they'd done it would likely be something terribly twisted as it so often was with them. He did love Blaise, in a very different sense than Faith to fit a very different person. But they were alike in not exactly being paragons of virtue, and he wasn't blind to the things that made that so.
Juliette was what drew him back out of his mind, pointing at a bottle of water that certainly didn't fit in being left on the ground like that and that was enough for him to pick on, because nobody here was going to drop one of those by accident and not pick it up immediately. That didn't really leave many possibilities.
"You know," Julien raised his voice enough to be heard even over the announcements, not least since this provided a convenient excuse not to have to listen any more, "whoever it is hiding, the longer you do that the less chance this goes peacefully!"
He really wasn't in the mood for hide and seek right now.
It wasn't exactly right to say that he was surprised. No, he had guessed that they would take to the game. But to do it so readily, and to kill Dante of all the people? Hearing of it would have hurt no matter who it had been, but that just made it all the worse.
And he just knew that should he find them, all they would offer him was fucking lies and excuses, and the truth of why they'd done it would likely be something terribly twisted as it so often was with them. He did love Blaise, in a very different sense than Faith to fit a very different person. But they were alike in not exactly being paragons of virtue, and he wasn't blind to the things that made that so.
Juliette was what drew him back out of his mind, pointing at a bottle of water that certainly didn't fit in being left on the ground like that and that was enough for him to pick on, because nobody here was going to drop one of those by accident and not pick it up immediately. That didn't really leave many possibilities.
"You know," Julien raised his voice enough to be heard even over the announcements, not least since this provided a convenient excuse not to have to listen any more, "whoever it is hiding, the longer you do that the less chance this goes peacefully!"
He really wasn't in the mood for hide and seek right now.
Juliette was actually ready to leave. Good for her. That just left whatshisface. Johnny turned to look at him, about to speak, when the announcement went off.
Johnny gritted his teeth, hands clenching on the barrel of his gun. He needed to try to remember who'd killed, obviously, but one name blocked out all the others. "Jesus Christ, Ty." That blood on Ty when they first met...no, that was too early, wasn't it? And hell, when Johnny had seen him he didn't seem too fucked up. But e tore out a girl's throat. With his teeth.
Distractedly, Johnny looked up at the others, not really sure what to say. That was like, ten people dead, and nine murderers. He noticed Juliette looking at something. He turned, saw the bottle on the ground. Tensed up.
Whatshisface was calling them out, being all diplomatic. Johnny had his own thoughts on the matter. "Or, put it another way, show yourself or I'll start shooting." He pointed the gun around, shifting in place. After a moment, gun still forward, he turned his head towards Juliette, and gave a brief shake of his head.
He couldn't exactly say 'hey, I'm bluffing' to her, but this was the best he had. Anyone hiding was sketchy as fuck, and he wasn't going to take that sitting down, but...all those names.
Johnny gritted his teeth, hands clenching on the barrel of his gun. He needed to try to remember who'd killed, obviously, but one name blocked out all the others. "Jesus Christ, Ty." That blood on Ty when they first met...no, that was too early, wasn't it? And hell, when Johnny had seen him he didn't seem too fucked up. But e tore out a girl's throat. With his teeth.
Distractedly, Johnny looked up at the others, not really sure what to say. That was like, ten people dead, and nine murderers. He noticed Juliette looking at something. He turned, saw the bottle on the ground. Tensed up.
Whatshisface was calling them out, being all diplomatic. Johnny had his own thoughts on the matter. "Or, put it another way, show yourself or I'll start shooting." He pointed the gun around, shifting in place. After a moment, gun still forward, he turned his head towards Juliette, and gave a brief shake of his head.
He couldn't exactly say 'hey, I'm bluffing' to her, but this was the best he had. Anyone hiding was sketchy as fuck, and he wasn't going to take that sitting down, but...all those names.
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Drew hadn't wanted them to noticed him at all and it seemed like nothing was happening at first. Did that mean that he was safe for a while? He did not know whether or not, that he was making a mistake or not. He wasn't really in the right frame of mind as he found himself starting to think about it more and that he needed to get himself somewhere more-
The announcements suddenly blared to life and Drew felt the world crumbling more around him. Like shards of glass were a part of a snow globe that he had been trapped in and someone had broken the thing that was supposed to keep him safe from all the looming danger. Reality really was much more harsher than he thought it would be. But he had known that. His arm was proof of that. Being injured by someone he thought that he could talk to.... He didn't know if he could trust the people that were near him. Maybe he was being too quick to judge..... The deaths and the killers being announced was making him feel more devastated and he felt like he was about to cry at any moment.
Abel was gone. He remembered having a few chats with him and he always thought that Abel had been kind. Beryl.... God, his heart was feeling heavier about her dying. Beryl had been around the gardening club for a while and then she had left for some reason. He never had a chance to even talk to her and he honestly thought that she could have survive this.... whatever this was. Ty was a person that Drew hoped that he could avoid in the future. He couldn't concentrate on the other names and murderers. But he felt quiet tears on his face for the dearly departed.
He then heard the voices again. But they were now talking to him. No, they were pretty much demanding, threatening him to come out. Or it would not end peacefully. Or he would get shot at. Again....
A gun. Another gun. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! He couldn't go near a gun again. Maybe he could run away again. No, he was too tired to do that and he could get shoot in the back. He had to.... go out there. Let them see him in his bad condition. And then what...? What if they refused to help him? What if they decided that it was better for him to be dead?
Drew forced himself to use his good arm to lean against the back of the tree and he forced himself up to his feet as best as he could, feeling himself trying to breathe more normally. He left his bag by the tree as he didn't think that he had time to fool around with that. He then raised his good hand up slightly in a 'I surrender' position and he stepped out into the open so that the others could see him. He really did want to book it, but he didn't want to risk it for now.
"P....Please, don't. I got shot..... And-And I just...." Drew couldn't continue talking and he felt like he wanted to disappear into a hole and stay there forever.
The announcements suddenly blared to life and Drew felt the world crumbling more around him. Like shards of glass were a part of a snow globe that he had been trapped in and someone had broken the thing that was supposed to keep him safe from all the looming danger. Reality really was much more harsher than he thought it would be. But he had known that. His arm was proof of that. Being injured by someone he thought that he could talk to.... He didn't know if he could trust the people that were near him. Maybe he was being too quick to judge..... The deaths and the killers being announced was making him feel more devastated and he felt like he was about to cry at any moment.
Abel was gone. He remembered having a few chats with him and he always thought that Abel had been kind. Beryl.... God, his heart was feeling heavier about her dying. Beryl had been around the gardening club for a while and then she had left for some reason. He never had a chance to even talk to her and he honestly thought that she could have survive this.... whatever this was. Ty was a person that Drew hoped that he could avoid in the future. He couldn't concentrate on the other names and murderers. But he felt quiet tears on his face for the dearly departed.
He then heard the voices again. But they were now talking to him. No, they were pretty much demanding, threatening him to come out. Or it would not end peacefully. Or he would get shot at. Again....
A gun. Another gun. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! He couldn't go near a gun again. Maybe he could run away again. No, he was too tired to do that and he could get shoot in the back. He had to.... go out there. Let them see him in his bad condition. And then what...? What if they refused to help him? What if they decided that it was better for him to be dead?
Drew forced himself to use his good arm to lean against the back of the tree and he forced himself up to his feet as best as he could, feeling himself trying to breathe more normally. He left his bag by the tree as he didn't think that he had time to fool around with that. He then raised his good hand up slightly in a 'I surrender' position and he stepped out into the open so that the others could see him. He really did want to book it, but he didn't want to risk it for now.
"P....Please, don't. I got shot..... And-And I just...." Drew couldn't continue talking and he felt like he wanted to disappear into a hole and stay there forever.
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Yuko, courtesy of Katrina. Quinn by Quinn—that one took Juliette a second, a brief little mental rewind to make sure she had who did what right. Juliette was good at that, though. She could catch a sentence and hold it in her head and speak it back verbatim thirty seconds later and not at any point process the meaning of the words stored in her short-term recall. Weird Quinn was odd, had been the subject of some certain infamy a year and a bit ago when she lost possession of some love letters and got outed. It had stuck in Juliette's craw, harder than a lot of the careless cruelties her classmates inflicted that she more directly pushed against. Something to watch for. And the remaining Hayashibaras would surely take what had happened hard.
Julien and Johnny were taking control of the situation with the interloper. Juliette had expected as much, and was disappointed neither in their clumsy initiative nor the way in which they made themselves the focal points of the interaction, presenting all the threat and accordingly courting the bulk of the danger. True, there was a chance that spread cast Juliette as the best prospective hostage, either for the interloper or some further unseen party, but someone trying that would have a surprise in store for them indeed. She took another half step back and to the side, nodding to Johnny's shake. Was he telling her he wouldn't shoot? Was he asking her to stay back? To be silent?
There it was, the next pair that she'd known was coming. There had been but a moment of doubt. The corners of Juliette's lips twitched up for just an instant. Then Benny and Justin closed it out. Other information, awards and Danger Zones, those mattered less. She was not in or near the latter and the former simply drew a target on someone any rational person would've mistrusted anyways. Juliette had known all before the act was committed. She had, she made herself remember, allowed it to come to pass. Endorsed it? No, not exactly. Not at all. She had cautioned Dante. It was not her fault he was not the sort of person who could hear it and understand.
Drew Woods came stumbling out after the water bottle. One hand up, warding off aggression, and the other hanging dead, wrapped in bloodied bandages. He held no bags. This set Juliette instantly on edge. He had dropped his things somewhere, either to allow for easier movement or to keep their contents from others. Or, perhaps, he had just not picked his belongings back up, but she was not taking chances. Whatever the case, he had something, somewhere. That water bottle had not manifested from the aether.
Juliette did not move around any more, just stood and watched, one hand slowly inching towards her mouth to cover it. Was she hiding an expression of shock, or a nervous smile? It didn't matter except that she couldn't tell; she had better self control than to allow either to cross her features.
The most disappointing part of the announcement had been the tone. She had read about it at some point, maybe even perused an excerpt here or there. The jokes were cutting, pointed, sometimes excessively long. Flippant and incisive, a slap to the face and vinegar in the raw wound. They made the survivors fall to their knees and cry out in outrage, shaking their fists impotently at the heavens. That was what she'd expected, but what she'd gotten had felt obligatory, a few cheap quips a few banal generalizations. She hadn't laughed or been hurt. Had she been thinking about the original Danya? She probably had. Somehow, the two blended in her mind and she forgot that one had been laid low when she was still in elementary school.
Drew was a nice enough boy, to a point. He lacked discretion and self control, and either the intelligence to calculate the value of such things or else the willpower and drive to change himself for the better. He didn't particularly deserve this death sentence more than anyone else, but he didn't merit it less, either. His wound pegged him as much a dead man walking as Dante had been, albeit perhaps slightly more slowly, and Juliette's comparative lack of personal investment and affection marked him as a short-term diversion. Had she not received this opportunity to say goodbye, she wouldn't have been particularly distraught.
She hoped he wouldn't disturb the balance of her interactions with the two living boys sharing this moment with her. She wasn't through with them just yet.
Julien and Johnny were taking control of the situation with the interloper. Juliette had expected as much, and was disappointed neither in their clumsy initiative nor the way in which they made themselves the focal points of the interaction, presenting all the threat and accordingly courting the bulk of the danger. True, there was a chance that spread cast Juliette as the best prospective hostage, either for the interloper or some further unseen party, but someone trying that would have a surprise in store for them indeed. She took another half step back and to the side, nodding to Johnny's shake. Was he telling her he wouldn't shoot? Was he asking her to stay back? To be silent?
There it was, the next pair that she'd known was coming. There had been but a moment of doubt. The corners of Juliette's lips twitched up for just an instant. Then Benny and Justin closed it out. Other information, awards and Danger Zones, those mattered less. She was not in or near the latter and the former simply drew a target on someone any rational person would've mistrusted anyways. Juliette had known all before the act was committed. She had, she made herself remember, allowed it to come to pass. Endorsed it? No, not exactly. Not at all. She had cautioned Dante. It was not her fault he was not the sort of person who could hear it and understand.
Drew Woods came stumbling out after the water bottle. One hand up, warding off aggression, and the other hanging dead, wrapped in bloodied bandages. He held no bags. This set Juliette instantly on edge. He had dropped his things somewhere, either to allow for easier movement or to keep their contents from others. Or, perhaps, he had just not picked his belongings back up, but she was not taking chances. Whatever the case, he had something, somewhere. That water bottle had not manifested from the aether.
Juliette did not move around any more, just stood and watched, one hand slowly inching towards her mouth to cover it. Was she hiding an expression of shock, or a nervous smile? It didn't matter except that she couldn't tell; she had better self control than to allow either to cross her features.
The most disappointing part of the announcement had been the tone. She had read about it at some point, maybe even perused an excerpt here or there. The jokes were cutting, pointed, sometimes excessively long. Flippant and incisive, a slap to the face and vinegar in the raw wound. They made the survivors fall to their knees and cry out in outrage, shaking their fists impotently at the heavens. That was what she'd expected, but what she'd gotten had felt obligatory, a few cheap quips a few banal generalizations. She hadn't laughed or been hurt. Had she been thinking about the original Danya? She probably had. Somehow, the two blended in her mind and she forgot that one had been laid low when she was still in elementary school.
Drew was a nice enough boy, to a point. He lacked discretion and self control, and either the intelligence to calculate the value of such things or else the willpower and drive to change himself for the better. He didn't particularly deserve this death sentence more than anyone else, but he didn't merit it less, either. His wound pegged him as much a dead man walking as Dante had been, albeit perhaps slightly more slowly, and Juliette's comparative lack of personal investment and affection marked him as a short-term diversion. Had she not received this opportunity to say goodbye, she wouldn't have been particularly distraught.
She hoped he wouldn't disturb the balance of her interactions with the two living boys sharing this moment with her. She wasn't through with them just yet.
A gunshot wound. Something that could be immediately acted on, at least, was just the thing to keep him anchored in the here and now.
He knew of Drew, if not knew him, thanks to time spent around Camilla. There was, naturally, the question of exactly why he had wound up with a bullet put in him, but that could go on the back-burner right now; even in the event that it was the result of someone acting in the interest of their own safety, he saw little reason to be worried. Being shot was an excellent way of persuading people not to start any trouble for a while.
The possibility of it being a trap was dismissed too, because there were far less painful options than being shot to try and play on the sympathy of others, and for the most part people didn't seek out agony.
If it had been hostile... Well, it couldn't have happened after Julien had arrived in the woods, because he would hope that a gunshot would have either caught his attention or woken him up, so it was a reasonable assumption that Drew wouldn't have been followed for so long. But on the other hand Tyrell had bitten someone's throat out, so it was safe to assume that some people were a few cards short of a full deck already. Besides, it never hurt to opt for precaution anyway. "Hey, Johnny. I hope that you can handle firing that, because chances are you should keep an eye out for other people."
So Julien didn't hesitate about approaching to help, gesturing for Drew to sit down as he slipped off his backpack to take out the first aid kit inside. Then he looked at Juliette, who was currently serving as a particularly pretty lawn ornament and fuck all else, and spoke up again.
"I know you can show initiative when it suits you, so would you mind helping me at all?"
He knew of Drew, if not knew him, thanks to time spent around Camilla. There was, naturally, the question of exactly why he had wound up with a bullet put in him, but that could go on the back-burner right now; even in the event that it was the result of someone acting in the interest of their own safety, he saw little reason to be worried. Being shot was an excellent way of persuading people not to start any trouble for a while.
The possibility of it being a trap was dismissed too, because there were far less painful options than being shot to try and play on the sympathy of others, and for the most part people didn't seek out agony.
If it had been hostile... Well, it couldn't have happened after Julien had arrived in the woods, because he would hope that a gunshot would have either caught his attention or woken him up, so it was a reasonable assumption that Drew wouldn't have been followed for so long. But on the other hand Tyrell had bitten someone's throat out, so it was safe to assume that some people were a few cards short of a full deck already. Besides, it never hurt to opt for precaution anyway. "Hey, Johnny. I hope that you can handle firing that, because chances are you should keep an eye out for other people."
So Julien didn't hesitate about approaching to help, gesturing for Drew to sit down as he slipped off his backpack to take out the first aid kit inside. Then he looked at Juliette, who was currently serving as a particularly pretty lawn ornament and fuck all else, and spoke up again.
"I know you can show initiative when it suits you, so would you mind helping me at all?"