&Run

[decoy73]

((Christina Rennes continued from i see u))

The announcements had been more of the same. Quinn bad. Erika bad. Bret dead. Two danger zone kills. Okay, those last two were different.

What was also different was Amelia was pointing her gun at someone else with a gun. The last time she had a gun out was when she was panicked and the only one armed. This time, well, things were a little more even. At least she recognized the other two somewhat. Connor and Val. Val was the one with the gun. A big one, not the pistol Amelia had. Amelia's quip was, well, stupid, but given the situation, well, no it was stupid.

Of course, Christina wasn't going to say that. What she was going to do was keep her hand in her pocket and on her knife while slowly stepping out of either line of fire.

[Deamon]

She could have him. That was what the girl whose name she was blanking on said. Bloodshed averted and a person acquired. Another one already. The group seemed on track to expand to four. But the exchange between the pair continued to be revealing. The amount of time they'd spent together was a mystery to her, but they had managed to build up a substantial level of disdain. If she took Connor out of the situation she would have been doing both of them a favor it seemed. That was good enough for her. Not that it would have made much of a difference. She wanted her quarterback and she was loathe to accept any answer but a yes when it came to her question of if he was joining. So she put on her prettiest face when she replied to him.

"Good to see you too."

It was at that point Amelia caught up with her and made an entrance. So they ended up with a standoff, which wasn't the greatest scenario ever, considering she didn't have a gun of her own. The last thing they needed was a gunfight. Amelia didn't give off the vibe of someone who was experienced with guns and neither did Valerija—she had remembered her name. But Amelia's arrival did provide some leverage. She was sure Amelia thought she was being helpful. Amelia seemed incapable of tact or subtlety after all. But all she had done was make everything more awkward. So keeping her face on she turned her head to Amelia before continuing.

"It's okay, I don't think it's going to get violent." She returned her focus to Valerija and shrugged.

"Unless you want it to I guess."

[Kermit]

Val's face remained static as Amelia and Christina appeared, though the movements of her eyes became sudden and erratic, darting to Amelia's gun, then her own gun still pointing vaguely at Connor, then to Christina, then back to the gun pointed at Connor, then back to Christina, then to rainbow girl, then to Amelia, and then, finally, back to rainbow girl.

"I do not care for violence without a point," she stated. "My gun is not loaded."

She glanced back to Connor and slowly lowered the gun. If one looked closely, they would be able to see the toes of her left foot (the one attached to her injured leg) wiggling beneath the surface of her shoe. The corners of her mouth curled into a small but noticeable grin. "You were never in any actual danger; the bullets only existed because I implied they did. There's a lesson there, for all of us," she gestured her head in rainbow girl's general direction. "You're free to go with them, John Wayne."

[Cactus]

Connor's anger gave way to disbelief — he'd been duped. The gun was empty. The threat of imminent danger aside, he set his jaw and glared at the girl who'd coerced his help. She lowered her weapon, and for just a moment, a flash of anger made him wonder if dropping her to the ground wouldn't be a prudent idea. Of course, he was Connor Lorenzen, he wasn't Wyatt or Bret Carter; he didn't seek out the overly physical. He wasn't like his buddies were, rough and tumble types who were never far from—

Bret's not. Around. Anymore.

Christ, that was the conveniently-forgotten narrative, wasn't it? Bret wasn't around anymore, and while his mind had taken the long way around that terrible fact, it had eventually arrived at pain city, adding another to the population of those whom had lost someone they cared about. Connor hadn't forgotten about Bret's demise, nor could he manage to look past the deadness in Wyatt's eyes, but being held hostage had sent all of those feelings to the side, dismissed them for a time.

The danger having passed, they had seen themselves back in.

Feeling numb, as though Valerija had kicked — or shot, with her imaginary bullets — him in the gut, Connor grabbed his things from the ground, stuffing them haphazardly in his pack. Zipping it up, he paused before he stepped away from his now-former captor.

"You could've just asked," he shook his head, disappointed in her for what she had become; the tactics she had resorted to. Someone like her wasn't long for the world; not in this newfound hellscape that all of them had taken up residence within. Her bluff had worked on him, but how long until it wouldn't work on someone else? He had been pointed with his words, yet he still believed them. People had sought him out as a leader, as someone who would be a useful member of their team. Valerija had been a victim, time and time again.

Trying desperately to swallow the dread that was once again threatening to overcome him, Connor looked at Forrest as he walked past her and took up a position at her side. He couldn't imagine that spending a great deal of time with Forrest and her — he quickly gave her companions a glance — motley crew would be in the cards, but at this point, he was fine to trade some minor social discomfort for some legitimate protection.

In the end, a few human shields, perhaps.

"Thank y'all. Really, I appreciate this," he whispered at them, trying to coat his words with gratitude rather than fear. That had been his first experience having a gun pointed in his direction, and it wasn't one he felt any urgency to repeat.

"So what now?"

His voice back to its normal volume, his query was directed at his new team captain. He wasn't a fool, he knew who'd be calling the shots in this group, and that was fine with him. They'd helped him out of a bind, and he'd help them out for as long as he deemed it necessary. Whomever they were looking for, he'd help them. But he had his own agenda; Connor had questions.

Wherever Madison was, she held the answers.

[Tonyksin]

Forrest said things wouldn’t get violent, and she was right. The other girl lowered her gun, so Amelia did the same. She didn’t want to seem rude. After all, Amelia didn’t want to hurt anyone in the first place. She just didn’t want the other girl to shoot the boy. Now that that danger was gone, she had no reason to point her gun at anyone or anything. Then the girl said the gun had no bullets. Now Amelia was extra confused. Then why point it at someone if there was nothing inside? Were they just joking? Was it a game? Amelia’s head hurt trying to understand. Her bloodshot and dry eyes turned to look at the large boy who seemed to be coming over to their side.

She for sure recognized him. He was one of the sports boys from school. She’d seen him all over when they were back home. Now that she thought about it, he was also the guy who got crowned at prom. She remembered because everyone stopped dancing and having fun to watch, and she had to wait until it was over to keep looking for Artem. Now that she thought harder, the girl who got crowned with him was Ivy, wasn’t it? The same Ivy she spent the first night with. The same Ivy who either abandoned her back then or wasn’t there to begin with.

She still wasn’t sure.

So this guy was probably a big deal back at George Hunter. That was kind of neat, she supposed. Amelia didn’t exactly have any social elites in the groups she would usually find herself in. So this was different. Forrest seemed like that kind of person too. A popular. And now they were friends. So she could be friends with this boy too. Yeah. That made sense. The gun girl called him John Wayne. Was that his name?

“Are you okay, Mr. Wayne?” She asked sincerely.

[decoy73]

"My gun is not loaded."

That was a statement that was both relieving and irritating. She wasn't in any line of fire, but Val had caused a potentially lethal scene by even putting her gun up. The others were able to defuse the situation - Val put her gun down, Amelia put her (definitely not empty) gun down.

“Are you okay, Mr. Wayne?”

And things just got awkward again. Christina wasn't able to hide the eye roll that caused her to almost inspect her own soul.

"I'm assuming Connor is fine. At least I hope you're not hurt. But now, the choice is either hunker down here or go somewhere else and hope we find who we're looking for." Although she was starting to get a little uneasy. She didn't know how a six person group would be able to get along - with Connor the Prom King, Val, Forrest (who already had a bad arm) and whatever Amelia was, she was already looking for escape routes for when the inevitable implosion happened, because she wasn't sure she could keep the four of them off each other, let alone Abe and anyone else that they came across.

[Deamon]

Val spoke very formally, she was probably also on a mental break. It made sense, it seemed likely that everyone was going to suffer from at least one during their time. The likelihood of managing to avoid stress-induced issues seemed low when you took it all into account. So it was no big deal when she announced the gun wasn't even loaded. It was actually kinda funny. She continued playing her own personal game with them as she continued to speak. There was never any danger she said. A statement that managed to be true and untrue at the same time considering their circumstances. Schroedinger's danger. Their presence on the island meant they were always in danger of some sort. It was how nature worked.

But at the end of the day it didn't matter. She had gotten her quarterback, just like she had wanted. When he made his way over and settled beside her she felt a little thrill at her success. A social victory that she had won. It was a nice change. Val was a non-factor. As soon as she had announced her gun was empty all of her threat had dissipated. She laughed when Amelia called Connor 'Mr. Wayne' with full sincerity. It was a pressure relief. A small light. It was sad. Amelia was far too nice. It was a surprise she hadn't been eaten alive by their situation. That was also a benefit.

Regardless, with her goal achieved it was time they moved on. She still needed to find Abe and figure out the best way to make use of the situation she had found herself in.

"Now we move on." She turned to Connor and gave him a smile. "We're looking for Abe, is there anyone you're looking for?"

[Kermit]

"Mmm, I'm going to interrupt, if I may," Val spoke up, and briefly raised her non-gun-holding hand a little. "But, personally, I would suggest you do something other than waste your lives on such mundanities."

She lifted her back from the bark of the tree.

"Understand things beyond yourselves exist. The universe is not around because of you," she said, the last sentence addressing the entire group but directed moreso towards Connor. "There is still a world off of this island, and while that world cannot change what happens here, what happens here will change that world," she paused, "and, ultimately, are we not the ones with the means to dictate what happens here? If you compare the situation I just put Connor in and the situation the terrorists have put us in, I'm sure you'll find they're really not all that different. Yes, I have shown myself willing to resort to violence, and yes, I said I would shoot Connor if he did not do as I said, but that does not mean I ever had any intent of shooting him. Like F.D.R. said, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself, yes?"

She glanced up at a camera. "There's also an aesop for you here. This would have been a terribly inefficient way for me to get Connor to not patch up my leg," she said to whoever was watching on the other side, before turning her head back to the rest of the group. "If you want to do something with your lives, there's a something. If not," she paused for dramatic effect, "do the rest of the world a favour and die soon, I suppose."

She turned around and limped away into the forest, not waiting for a response. Once she was sure she was out of sight, she broke into a slightly-hobbled run.

((Valerija Bogdanovic continued in Dress For Success))

[Cactus]

The tension broke, but Connor's annoyance didn't fade away. It would have been so simple for her to just ask politely, like a sane, rational human being, but as was quickly becoming apparent, Val had skipped that class back at George Hunter. No wonder he didn't know who she was. Anyone that mentally unhinged had to lurk around the periphery of the school's social circle, and would have been far below Connor's sphere of influence or awareness. Flexing his hands into fists to prevent the trembling that had suddenly pushed back to the surface as the adrenaline wore off, he listened to all of it — the misidentification from the space cadet, the suggestion from Forrest and the ramblings from Val, and only after she left did he allow himself to sigh, trying to ease the anxiety from his body.

"She's off her damned rocker," he grumbled as he flexed his hands. "Thanks for steppin' in. I didn't know she wasn't gonna shoot, but..."

Spending days outdoors without proper nutrition was taking its toll upon him, and the very fact that he'd allowed someone to get the drop on him like that was frustrating in and of itself. He'd been mid-panic when Valerija had accosted him, and for someone who prided himself on having an excellent sense of awareness, his pride was mildly wounded — thankfully the only injury to come out of the encounter.

Turning to the spacey girl with the gun — a disturbing combination to be certain — he tried on his best smile for her. After nearly a week, it wasn't worth the million dollars it once was, but it did the trick. "I'm fine, thanks hun. As much as bein' John Wayne would probably help, you can probably just call me Connor."

He winked at her, and turned to Forrest and Christina, a bit more of a serious look upon his face. Connor didn't know what kind of plan they had in mind, but if finding Abe was the starting point for it, he wasn't going to turn it down. For days, he'd wandered alone or nearly alone, and the encounter with Val had shown him just how dangerous that could be. While the girl's gun hadn't been loaded, and she'd obviously been somewhat deranged, the situation could have just as easily turned the other way.

"Abe, okay. Good start. I reckon that the only one I'd like to try and find," he paused, the realization of how the name would land hitting him mid-sentence, "is Madison."

Madison Springer; occasional terror of George Hunter High. Social riser. Loud yeller. Occasional perpetrator of property damage, particularly to vehicles. Girlfriend of the Prom King.

Murderer.

Connor shut his eyes as he let the unease wash over him. To everyone here, that would be the only title that mattered anymore.

Murderer. Of Nathan Coleman. Sweet, simple Nathan. The boy who danced in the hallway and whom would never hurt a fly. Perhaps, if Connor were being honest with himself; the best of them all. That was who Madison was, now. It didn't make any sense to him. Of anyone she could have killed, he couldn't fathom that. Bowing his head slightly, he remained in the darkness as he lowered his voice, letting his internal thoughts out for a brief moment, punctuating it with a small sigh.

"I need to know why," was all he offered, but he was fairly certain that it was all any of them needed to understand.

[Tonyksin]

The boy’s name wasn’t John, as both he and Christina confirmed. Apparently it was Connor. Or maybe his name actually WAS John but he went by Connor instead. OR MAYBE Connor was his real name, and the gun girl called him John because she wanted to be mean to him. Amelia wasn’t sure which one was right. All she knew was he told her to call him Connor, so that’s what she would do. It was only polite to call people what they wanted to be called, after all. Grandpa always told her being polite was important.

Forrest reminded them that their goal was to find Abe. Amelia nodded in recognition. She remembered that much at least. While their group started to discuss, Amelia noticed the gun girl start to leave, and while she did she started talking about stuff that Amelia wasn’t really sure made sense. But then again, who was she to talk really? She watched the other girl disappear into the trees, and looked after her sadly. Why not stay with them? It was just like yesterday with Violet.

Wasn’t being all alone in a place like this too scary?

Amelia sighed and looked back to her group. Things seemed to have taken a serious turn while she wasn’t paying much attention, as Connor looked rather upset. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but that didn’t matter. She walked over to him, and put her hand on top of his in a comforting way, smiling up at him. Amelia figured all of them were a little bit sad, but if they stayed together, some of that sad could wash away for a bit, right?

“Don’t worry.” She said soothingly.

“Together, we’ll figure everything out.” She said that because she desperately wanted to believe it.

[decoy73]

Madison. One of the pretty girls that Jessica hung out with. She'd killed someone and she got rewarded for it. Madison and Abe plus the four of them. Christina didn't know if it was a recipe for disaster or what, but she was hoping that maybe the Connor could keep her in check - or that Madison was calm enough to not fly off the rails. She'd only killed Nathan, right? She wasn't at Erika or Quinn levels of killing, so maybe something had happened?

Of course, that was all positive thinking. That was Amelia's thinking. Of course, on the other hand, Madison could be dead, she could be gleefully feral, maybe they'd find this out from her in person, or maybe they'd (likely) never see her again.

"Okay. Okay. Madison and Abe. We can find them. Then we can figure things out further."

((Christina Rennes continued in Hell and You))

[Deamon]

"Yeah, we'll look for her too. Don't worry about it." Forrest said, keeping her smile in place.

"Let's go, don't want to waste time." She patted Connor on the arm and turned to Amelia to give her a smile as well before she started walking through the wilderness, beginning to retrieve her map as she did so.

They had places to be and she needed to maintain an air of legitimacy as the leader of their group. The best way for her to do that was to at least appear like she had a plan.

((Forrest Quin continued in Hell and You))

[Tonyksin]

Amelia tried her best to keep her smile on. She could feel the exhaustion in her body attempting to drag her down, but she figured if she kept on smiling, no one would notice how slow her movements were and how much time it was taking her to react to things. She figured none of them were noticing her much anyhow. Amelia was used to going under the radar of other people. That was where she was most comfortable. Still, she wanted to smile and make them believe everything was okay.

Forrest was gearing them all up to leave. Christina and Connor followed behind, and Amelia brought up the rear. It was better for her to be in the back. No one would see her stumble by accident that way. She didn’t want to worry anyone. Especially Forrest.

Amelia could pretend to be okay.

Amelia could pretend her head didn’t hurt. Her eyes weren’t straining. She could pretend that a part of her was coming undone with each passing hour.

Yeah. Pretending was what she did best, after all.

[Amelia Fischer Continued Elsewhere]

[Cactus]

With her name going over about as well as a fart in church, Connor braced himself for the inevitable discourse that was to follow, but was surprised when — it never came? Rather, everyone just sort of shrugged and agreed, as though searching out someone who was a murderer of their class president was an everyday thing. Forrest seemed almost content at the thought, and led them away.

He didn't know what kind of game Forrest was playing, but as Connor shrugged and followed along, he surmised he was at least intrigued to find out. For the time being, he would allow himself to be lead, but how much longer that would last, he couldn't say.

At least, perhaps, until his hands stopped trembling.

((Connor Lorenzen continued elsewhere))