"You wha- yuh-you know what I, what I did, huh!?" Justin yelled through the trees. What a frustrating sentence to hear... like they knew anything! It was frustrating, how people could be in the same situation as him but have such a contrasting experience, and take something else away than he did. Once again, he was facing a group of people who didn't understand the situation he did. He was even in the same place doing so.
Justin thought he knew what he wanted to say next but the words slipped off of the front of his mind just as soon as he'd pieced together the next one. Before, even when startled or scared out of his wits, he normaly found himself with the ability to blurt something out off the top of his head. He'd already done it once or twice with Garnet really, because you don't really spend time thinking about what you say in the middle of a gunfight. This wasn't the first time Justin found himself opposite a group of people... so why was this so different, to the point where words completely failed him?
Three of them, one of him. They knew what he did. He had a gun, but so did Garnet. So what if they knew what he did? Either of the newcomers could have brought a weapon as well, which meant the number of guns involved in the fight was an unknown but probably more than two. Good for them, they knew he killed somebody; all that proved was that they listened to, like any announcement starting on the second day. Everybody's armed... a bluff? They wanted to kill him. What if the girl, the not-Garnet-voice, was serious about not wanting to see anybody get hurt, did that apply to him too? Maybe it wasn't a bluff. It would be too risky to take them for granted OR to assume he was lying wholecloth.
Justin panted, hoarse breaths both in and out of his mouth.
"I... was... sleeping." He finally managed to say. "I wasn't. Trying to kill her. I'll take s-... my stuff, I'll go. I'll go. I just want to go."
He couldn't kill them. Not like this.
It all went wrong.
Present day. Present time. (Open)
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
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Katelynne shook her head as she listened to Garnet's excuse and Justin's pleas for mercy. This wasn't differ'nt. It never was. It was all just excuses.
She didn't say anything more for a bit, not until her eyes laid on Marco's and the grip on his arm arm softened. She nodded her head.
"Garnet," Katelynne called out, "I ain't tellin you to not be angry, but... please, don't do this. You already won. Just... please... let him go."
She didn't say anything more for a bit, not until her eyes laid on Marco's and the grip on his arm arm softened. She nodded her head.
"Garnet," Katelynne called out, "I ain't tellin you to not be angry, but... please, don't do this. You already won. Just... please... let him go."
She could take a shot. She could take a couple of shots.
She could blow him to pieces.
He deserved it, right? He was the cog. It was the Justins that were making the machine run. The Erikas. The Blaises. The Quinns.
That was simple, that was easy.
But how many people were on the announcements just once, or just twice? Garnet couldn't even remember, but it wasn't just Marco. He was a cog. But so had Paloma been. So had Nick been. They were all—but god dammit it wasn't the same! It wasn't the same as--you could be forced into something once, circumstances could make you kill twice! Justin had killed ten, twelve times! He had a fucking trail of corpses behind him!
The gun shook in her hands.
All those people, because of him.
She grasped for the anger again. It fluttered between her fingers.
Was this what they'd want?
Should that matter? What about what Garnet wanted? What if she wanted to rip this apart until there was nothing—what if she wanted to pierce a hole in--what if she just wanted to stop
feeling
like this
It sputtered, guttered out.
"Just... just go."
She didn't even bother telling herself it would be different next time.
She could blow him to pieces.
He deserved it, right? He was the cog. It was the Justins that were making the machine run. The Erikas. The Blaises. The Quinns.
That was simple, that was easy.
But how many people were on the announcements just once, or just twice? Garnet couldn't even remember, but it wasn't just Marco. He was a cog. But so had Paloma been. So had Nick been. They were all—but god dammit it wasn't the same! It wasn't the same as--you could be forced into something once, circumstances could make you kill twice! Justin had killed ten, twelve times! He had a fucking trail of corpses behind him!
The gun shook in her hands.
All those people, because of him.
She grasped for the anger again. It fluttered between her fingers.
Was this what they'd want?
Should that matter? What about what Garnet wanted? What if she wanted to rip this apart until there was nothing—what if she wanted to pierce a hole in--what if she just wanted to stop
feeling
like this
It sputtered, guttered out.
"Just... just go."
She didn't even bother telling herself it would be different next time.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Little by little, Justin inched himself out from behind the cover of the tree, leading with his left side. The Madsen hung from his right hand, behind the tree and out of view with his finger off the trigger to prevent an erronous shot. He would have rather not shown himself, but before taking Garnet's generous offer to leave, he had to retrieve his things which were still next to Forrest's body.
Cautiously exposing himself from his cover gave him the chance to see who had intervened in Garnet's attempt to kill him. Katelynne was immediately recognizable to him. The other one... he had no idea. The hair jumped out at him but everything else about how they carried themselves defeated him. Not their identity was important, just so long as it was one of the few people off his radar. Doubly important was that these two were here to give Justin the chance he needed to escape a disadvantageous situation. Whether they had saved him or saved Garnet, that was impossible to say. She had gotten the jump on him, though. He'd need to make sure that never happened again. If he could kill any of them here, or all of them, he would have. But three on one... the last time he attacked a group marked where things started going terribly wrong.
People grouping up... that was a disaster and a half, wasn't it?
The only way to win the game seemed to be going it alone. Only now, in the late stages of the game where almost everybody still alive remained buddied up with somebody at their side, was that starting to look like a mistake. His legs started to tremble as he was now entirely out from behind the tree, crouching down and leaning the gun against the tree, barrel on the ground. He held out a hand when he turned his body, clearly showing himself to be unarmed as he looped his good arm through the bag's strap and clutched the tire iron, pulling the bag up on his elbow. He quickly shuffled back and slunk himself mostly out of sight once more, never ceasing his glare at the three.
Justin was happy they'd made that decision that, hopefully, they would come to regret in letting him go. They seemed to think that by sparing him they were being the better people. 'Oh, don't be like him, let him go.' It wasn't directly said but the implications were there. Justin was opposite an entire group that saw themselves as better than him. He was the bad guy. And, just like Michael, just like everybody else that first day except Aliya, they'd lost sight of what was really important. It wasn't about good kids or bad kids. Just the kids who were willing to do whatever it took to get out of here alive. If there was any way to get out of here and keep other people alive, Justin wanted to think he would have done it. Aliya probably regretted her decisions, too. He wished she didn't have to.
But the first chance he got, he'd put a bullet between Garnet's eyes. Same for the others.
It wasn't personal.
((Justin Greene, concluded in What we are in the dark))
Cautiously exposing himself from his cover gave him the chance to see who had intervened in Garnet's attempt to kill him. Katelynne was immediately recognizable to him. The other one... he had no idea. The hair jumped out at him but everything else about how they carried themselves defeated him. Not their identity was important, just so long as it was one of the few people off his radar. Doubly important was that these two were here to give Justin the chance he needed to escape a disadvantageous situation. Whether they had saved him or saved Garnet, that was impossible to say. She had gotten the jump on him, though. He'd need to make sure that never happened again. If he could kill any of them here, or all of them, he would have. But three on one... the last time he attacked a group marked where things started going terribly wrong.
People grouping up... that was a disaster and a half, wasn't it?
The only way to win the game seemed to be going it alone. Only now, in the late stages of the game where almost everybody still alive remained buddied up with somebody at their side, was that starting to look like a mistake. His legs started to tremble as he was now entirely out from behind the tree, crouching down and leaning the gun against the tree, barrel on the ground. He held out a hand when he turned his body, clearly showing himself to be unarmed as he looped his good arm through the bag's strap and clutched the tire iron, pulling the bag up on his elbow. He quickly shuffled back and slunk himself mostly out of sight once more, never ceasing his glare at the three.
Justin was happy they'd made that decision that, hopefully, they would come to regret in letting him go. They seemed to think that by sparing him they were being the better people. 'Oh, don't be like him, let him go.' It wasn't directly said but the implications were there. Justin was opposite an entire group that saw themselves as better than him. He was the bad guy. And, just like Michael, just like everybody else that first day except Aliya, they'd lost sight of what was really important. It wasn't about good kids or bad kids. Just the kids who were willing to do whatever it took to get out of here alive. If there was any way to get out of here and keep other people alive, Justin wanted to think he would have done it. Aliya probably regretted her decisions, too. He wished she didn't have to.
But the first chance he got, he'd put a bullet between Garnet's eyes. Same for the others.
It wasn't personal.
((Justin Greene, concluded in What we are in the dark))
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Emprexx Plush
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It wasn't quiet after he left. Wind still blew through the trees. Insects chittered in hiding from birds chirping all around them. In the distance might have been the shriek of a monkey, or a goat bleating, or maybe it was someone's scream. The point was that it was not quiet on the island, not ever, but Justin's departure left a vacuum behind him that seemed to suck all the air out of the exhibit until the only thing Marco could hear was that no one, not one of them, was saying a single word further.
Just go.
And he did.
That was the end of it.
He didn't feel better.
There was supposed to be relief, or maybe more like assurance, that they had all made the right call. Everybody got to walk away alive. Nobody got more blood on their hands. Justin was a murderer, a bigger one than Marco, Nick, and Michael had been combined when they had found refuge in each other, but that didn't make him less afraid. Take the gun out of his hands, put him on the ground, and however many bodies he'd left behind him didn't make him any less vulnerable. All the blood he'd spilled wouldn't wash the look off of his face if he had one left when he died. None of it changed that he was still a person.
Being a person didn't change what he'd done. People did terrible things. Unforgivable acts. Marco's hesitance didn't come from some naive hope that with a little bit of mercy Justin might turn around and see the error in his ways to live his last days, maybe even hours, in penitent restitution to the class that was left. No. Given the choice and the drop Marco's instinct would be to put one of these new bolts through his throat before he had a chance to draw on them. Marco didn't want Justin to live, didn't believe he so much as deserved to live. He told Garnet back at the cave before she attacked him.
Some people don't deserve to go home, though. If I have to hurt them...I want, no, I deserve a life. That's my choice, Garnet.
If Marco had found Justin first, maybe he'd already be dead. Maybe that was more false bravado. It didn't make much difference now. What was different between him and Garnet is that he wouldn't pretend his impulses were coming from a place of justice. He couldn't justify by ethics or karma why Justin should die and he should live because that wasn't the story they were stuck in. Marco was no one's judge. He didn't claim to be a good person. His only standard was that people like Justin had had their whole lives to be themself, and this was the person they chose to be. Marco had eleven days. His story was just beginning. Justin's was already written.
Garnet's was already written.
Garnet didn't deserve to die. She would, but she didn't deserve it. Garnet was going to die because she believed she was doing the right thing. That the game could be stopped and she could be the one to do it if she just found the strength to pull the right trigger or punch the right face. Beating him up hadn't seemed to satisfy that feeling at all but that could be walked back. He was okay. He was right here, and he hadn't hurt anyone else. They could talk through that. It could fit with the character Garnet had spent her whole life inhabiting. Murder on the other hand...cold-blooded revenge killing of a man begging for his life without a hint of resistance, chasing him through the woods until she finally cut the legs out from under him and watched him die whimpering like frightened game? When Garnet stood over Justin's body and watched him twitch with movement he couldn't consciously compel right down to the end, there would only be one murderer left standing in the clearing.
And she wouldn't feel better.
Marco didn't want her story to end like that.
He let himself breathe again when Justin's footsteps vanished in the distance. Just breath. No words. His head was swirling with thoughts but near none of it translated well to speech. Only three felt clear enough to lead off.
"Thank you Garnet."
Just go.
And he did.
That was the end of it.
He didn't feel better.
There was supposed to be relief, or maybe more like assurance, that they had all made the right call. Everybody got to walk away alive. Nobody got more blood on their hands. Justin was a murderer, a bigger one than Marco, Nick, and Michael had been combined when they had found refuge in each other, but that didn't make him less afraid. Take the gun out of his hands, put him on the ground, and however many bodies he'd left behind him didn't make him any less vulnerable. All the blood he'd spilled wouldn't wash the look off of his face if he had one left when he died. None of it changed that he was still a person.
Being a person didn't change what he'd done. People did terrible things. Unforgivable acts. Marco's hesitance didn't come from some naive hope that with a little bit of mercy Justin might turn around and see the error in his ways to live his last days, maybe even hours, in penitent restitution to the class that was left. No. Given the choice and the drop Marco's instinct would be to put one of these new bolts through his throat before he had a chance to draw on them. Marco didn't want Justin to live, didn't believe he so much as deserved to live. He told Garnet back at the cave before she attacked him.
Some people don't deserve to go home, though. If I have to hurt them...I want, no, I deserve a life. That's my choice, Garnet.
If Marco had found Justin first, maybe he'd already be dead. Maybe that was more false bravado. It didn't make much difference now. What was different between him and Garnet is that he wouldn't pretend his impulses were coming from a place of justice. He couldn't justify by ethics or karma why Justin should die and he should live because that wasn't the story they were stuck in. Marco was no one's judge. He didn't claim to be a good person. His only standard was that people like Justin had had their whole lives to be themself, and this was the person they chose to be. Marco had eleven days. His story was just beginning. Justin's was already written.
Garnet's was already written.
Garnet didn't deserve to die. She would, but she didn't deserve it. Garnet was going to die because she believed she was doing the right thing. That the game could be stopped and she could be the one to do it if she just found the strength to pull the right trigger or punch the right face. Beating him up hadn't seemed to satisfy that feeling at all but that could be walked back. He was okay. He was right here, and he hadn't hurt anyone else. They could talk through that. It could fit with the character Garnet had spent her whole life inhabiting. Murder on the other hand...cold-blooded revenge killing of a man begging for his life without a hint of resistance, chasing him through the woods until she finally cut the legs out from under him and watched him die whimpering like frightened game? When Garnet stood over Justin's body and watched him twitch with movement he couldn't consciously compel right down to the end, there would only be one murderer left standing in the clearing.
And she wouldn't feel better.
Marco didn't want her story to end like that.
He let himself breathe again when Justin's footsteps vanished in the distance. Just breath. No words. His head was swirling with thoughts but near none of it translated well to speech. Only three felt clear enough to lead off.
"Thank you Garnet."
It was quiet after he left. Even moreso after Marco interjected, though it wasn't a pleasant quiet. But it kinda was more pleasant... just, not really pleasant.
Katelynne squeezed his arm a few times before letting go, holding onto the rifle with both hands again. She forgot for a moment how it felt like carrying a cement brick. "We're coming out," she said, clearing her throat before stepping around the tree and some statue thing and the crunchy foliage and dirt and God knows what else on the forest floor.
Garnet was still there. Her hands were still firmly on the shotgun. Katelynne did the same as she watched her step and approached but kept a comfortable distance still. Just in case.
She didn't know what to say. So she said the first thing that came to mind.
"...So, uhm... the weather, huh? Been kinda crazy hot..."
Katelynne squeezed his arm a few times before letting go, holding onto the rifle with both hands again. She forgot for a moment how it felt like carrying a cement brick. "We're coming out," she said, clearing her throat before stepping around the tree and some statue thing and the crunchy foliage and dirt and God knows what else on the forest floor.
Garnet was still there. Her hands were still firmly on the shotgun. Katelynne did the same as she watched her step and approached but kept a comfortable distance still. Just in case.
She didn't know what to say. So she said the first thing that came to mind.
"...So, uhm... the weather, huh? Been kinda crazy hot..."
She wouldn't cry. Not for this.
She wouldn't.
She should have done it. He wasn't that far away. He was barely holding together. If she hurried, then she would be able to catch him. She just had to kick herself into gear. She just had to...
Cut it out with the lies.
What Garnet was doing, it was just—it was the equivalent of winning an imaginary argument in your head. Imagining that someone would say such and such and react in such and such a way, and then she'd have the perfect response to slam dunk them and win forever, because she was amazing at debates, or, or something. But she wasn't going to beat Justin. She couldn't. No arguments sprung to mind the night after the fight.
At least the fire was something. Now she was just... nothing.
Garnet look at Marco, then his companion. Looked at Marco. Katelynne.
"It's whatever," she muttered, at a volume she didn't care if could be heard. She didn't want to be thanked. Not by him.
Everything was falling apart at the seams.
She wouldn't.
She should have done it. He wasn't that far away. He was barely holding together. If she hurried, then she would be able to catch him. She just had to kick herself into gear. She just had to...
Cut it out with the lies.
What Garnet was doing, it was just—it was the equivalent of winning an imaginary argument in your head. Imagining that someone would say such and such and react in such and such a way, and then she'd have the perfect response to slam dunk them and win forever, because she was amazing at debates, or, or something. But she wasn't going to beat Justin. She couldn't. No arguments sprung to mind the night after the fight.
At least the fire was something. Now she was just... nothing.
Garnet look at Marco, then his companion. Looked at Marco. Katelynne.
"It's whatever," she muttered, at a volume she didn't care if could be heard. She didn't want to be thanked. Not by him.
Everything was falling apart at the seams.
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Emprexx Plush
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Whatever. Her gun was probably still warm from the shots, but it was whatever. A murderer limped away into the woods, but it was whatever. Garnet looked right through him, but it was whatever. Katelynne was so off course with what they'd been a part of that she was trying to get them to talk about the weather if only to fill the vacuum, but it was whatever.
Marco moved to stand in front of her.
"No. No it's not."
It couldn't be.
"You made a choice." He cradled the crossbow in his arms, still pointed to the ground. "Game goes on either way, but you made a choice about...you get to decide who you are when, when it ends." They were whispering. He didn't know why, she'd led with it and he followed but what could they say more worth obscuring than their last conversation? Still he repeated himself. "You made a choice. It means something."
Marceline.
Teresa.
Yuka.
Garnet.
Axel.
Michael.
Nick.
Kayla.
He looked away from her face. "It means something every time."
Marco moved to stand in front of her.
"No. No it's not."
It couldn't be.
"You made a choice." He cradled the crossbow in his arms, still pointed to the ground. "Game goes on either way, but you made a choice about...you get to decide who you are when, when it ends." They were whispering. He didn't know why, she'd led with it and he followed but what could they say more worth obscuring than their last conversation? Still he repeated himself. "You made a choice. It means something."
Marceline.
Teresa.
Yuka.
Garnet.
Axel.
Michael.
Nick.
Kayla.
He looked away from her face. "It means something every time."
Katelynne's awkward half smile faded as she looked between Marco and Garnet, and at each of their downtrodden expressions. There was a lot of pages to this story that she was missing, but it wasn't her place to read it.
"I think so, too," Katelynne brushed the stray hairs wandering in front of her face and turned to Garnet. "People like Justin get what's comin' to them. Might be in a few hours, might be tomorrow, might be in 40 years when he's dying alone crippled and forgotten. Time heals, but time hurts, too.
"...Sorry," she shook her head. Maybe the heat really was starting to get to her, going off on tangents like that. "...What're ya planning on doing, now?"
"I think so, too," Katelynne brushed the stray hairs wandering in front of her face and turned to Garnet. "People like Justin get what's comin' to them. Might be in a few hours, might be tomorrow, might be in 40 years when he's dying alone crippled and forgotten. Time heals, but time hurts, too.
"...Sorry," she shook her head. Maybe the heat really was starting to get to her, going off on tangents like that. "...What're ya planning on doing, now?"
Ah, there was a piece of Garnet, and over there, another piece, and over there, another piece.
That piece had 'do something about the killers' written on it. That other one said 'no killing no matter what'.
The big piece in the middle said 'by the way, still useless.'
She could set herself on fire, for a little. She could use that motivation, for a little. But if the only fuel she had was herself, then was it any wonder that over and over again she flared out? Garnet could only burn for as long as her emotions ran hot, and once they stopped, that was that. Garnet could get mad and punch someone or even get amped up and shoot at someone, but once that was gone, that was... gone. Drive, conviction, guts, determination, had she ever once had any of those?
Garnet closed her eyes.
She didn't want to hear him, but maybe she should be a long way past just what she wanted. She'd wanted to do a lot of things, and even succeeded at some of them. Where exactly had that got her? What exactly had that got her?
Did it mean something?
Did it count as a choice, when she just hadn't been good enough? Garnet hadn't picked not to kill Yuka, she'd flunked out on it. Could you have a moral high ground just by failing to do anything that kicked you off of it?
Or maybe the high ground was something she should be long past caring about.
"Yeah, okay."
Was it? Was she?
She looked at the scattered pieces. Could you put them back into a Garnet-shaped bag? Or, maybe the question was, what shape was a Garnet shape?
"My plan..."
Break the machine.
Redeem herself for helping a murderer.
Claw one back against the killers.
Prove she was worthwhile.
Pull back a friend from the brink.
One way or another, she'd never succeeded a single one of those goals.
She shrugged.
"Maybe it's time to stop with the plans."
That piece had 'do something about the killers' written on it. That other one said 'no killing no matter what'.
The big piece in the middle said 'by the way, still useless.'
She could set herself on fire, for a little. She could use that motivation, for a little. But if the only fuel she had was herself, then was it any wonder that over and over again she flared out? Garnet could only burn for as long as her emotions ran hot, and once they stopped, that was that. Garnet could get mad and punch someone or even get amped up and shoot at someone, but once that was gone, that was... gone. Drive, conviction, guts, determination, had she ever once had any of those?
Garnet closed her eyes.
She didn't want to hear him, but maybe she should be a long way past just what she wanted. She'd wanted to do a lot of things, and even succeeded at some of them. Where exactly had that got her? What exactly had that got her?
Did it mean something?
Did it count as a choice, when she just hadn't been good enough? Garnet hadn't picked not to kill Yuka, she'd flunked out on it. Could you have a moral high ground just by failing to do anything that kicked you off of it?
Or maybe the high ground was something she should be long past caring about.
"Yeah, okay."
Was it? Was she?
She looked at the scattered pieces. Could you put them back into a Garnet-shaped bag? Or, maybe the question was, what shape was a Garnet shape?
"My plan..."
Break the machine.
Redeem herself for helping a murderer.
Claw one back against the killers.
Prove she was worthwhile.
Pull back a friend from the brink.
One way or another, she'd never succeeded a single one of those goals.
She shrugged.
"Maybe it's time to stop with the plans."
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Emprexx Plush
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Garnet had dragged Marco out of a lot of dark places over the years. Rarely for long and almost never willingly, but she had a way of sniffing out his worst moments and dragging him back to the world when he would rather disappear. Her usual tact was to be gentle. Contain her frustration as much as possible and nudge him in what she felt was the proper direction. If he grew resistant in a rough patch she might hit him with some tough love, or try to pump him up like she did the team as if he'd ever shown the kind of energy they did. What she'd never done, even after trying to beat his face in, was look him in the eyes and tell him that it was time to give up. Which with the knowledge that every other way she tried to pull him together inevitably failed forced the question: should she have? The moments that had shaped who he was going to be most bloomed out of rock bottoms after all. Garnet's attempt at a safety net, the meal reminders, the pep talks, the social obligations, the work outs, the list went on and on and on in method and setting...had it all been just enough to keep him trapped? Not just her obviously but everyone who had tried to help the miserable person he was trying to be, would it have been better if they had grabbed him by the face and insisted, even demanded, that he could not keep living like this?
Of course not. He recognized the toxic nature of the notion quickly enough. What he was really doing was trying to shift responsibility for his struggles away from himself on to his support network in a way that felt self-flagellating enough to be acceptable, a depression tinged spiral on how they should have just given up on him if they really loved him so he could be a better version of the person they wanted to protect. It wouldn't have worked that way. Rising from the ashes of perdition made for an inspirational story but phoenixes were mythical for a reason. Everything else just burned. If he crashed out in the normal world with no immediate consequences but disappointing people he was certain were already sick of his constant failures, there was no guarantee he'd ever get back up. So maybe Garnet knew that and despite all the times she must have wanted to throw in the towel and stop pulling for him, she knew he needed the help. He liked the sound of that. Probably not true, at least not completely, it sounded too hopeful after everything that passed between them, but it was nice.
Another motivation crept in the back of his mind though, one that he had an easier time believing because he was feeling it right now. Marco looked in Garnet's face as she spoke and heard the echo of what he should say next under her stop-start mumblings. She looked so tired. Beat like he'd never seen her after a loss before. There was no way to know what these past few days had done to her but even just the moments they shared on the announcements, every friend lost and killer she blamed herself for not stopping...that was a string of defeats that she couldn't just shrug off. It felt so obvious. Those last words, 'Maybe it's time to stop with the plans,' were just a blunted version of what he had to say. Silence fell again and he could feel the sentence waiting to fill it caught in his throat trying to find it's most diplomatic form and always returning to just two words.
Give up.
Garnet didn't have it in her to finish the game. He knew that when she left him bleeding at the waterfall. For all her rage about shutting down anyone making the game run she hadn't killed anyone in almost two weeks, and it was not like there was a shortage of available candidates. She'd had two right in front of her and she'd let them walk away; this last one could be said to be Katelynne and Marco's fault, but the point stood. Garnet didn't hunt Justin down with intent to kill. She didn't treat him like a threat at all. Screams and gunshots filled the air but as far as he could tell not one drop of blood made it to the ground. It was possible that left to her own devices she could have got him, but if she did it would be all passion. One moment of vindication followed by a lifetime of living with herself. Second guessing herself. Blaming herself. If it was long enough that she made it off of this island he could imagine her hunched over a screen somewhere going over footage day in and day out. There'd be a moment where if she'd been just a little faster she would have caught him at the lake, she'd be sure of it, or she could have caught up with him if she'd noticed his footprints going left instead of right, or she was only a few hundred feet from Shauna days before she died and if she'd just been at her side to protect her she would have made it a little farther, or she woke up so close, so unbelievably close, to a Quinn or a Justin or an Erika or a Michael or any number of names she would lash out against if she had just known to take them out then. That was the amazing part. A paradoxical stance that would sound unlikely at first blush but Marco felt he knew her well enough to believe it. Because as much as she would blame each and every killer on this island, if she ever managed to get away with ending any of their lives she would be right back on their feeds too. He couldn't say how soon the idea would get in her mind, but he knew it would end up there. Erika would be the first maybe, they had been close. Garnet would start where she woke up and follow along without missing a second, trying to pinpoint the exact moment her friend became a murderer. Not the deed itself, that was easy enough to find, but when her mind changed from the girl she rolled dice and who knew what else with to the sort of monster who could kill over a dozen people without slowing down. It had to have happened here somewhere, right? And there had to have been some chance that she could stop it? The right words at the right time could turn all those wrong decisions around and they would...she wouldn't get that far. She never got that far. Garnet would believe it though, by word or gesture or violence she would believe that she could have redeemed every one of their classmates who played the game if she was given enough time, and on the days where she no longer had the energy left to rage at them she would never forgive herself for failing.
That's the kind of life that was waiting for Garnet on the other side of the game. That was all he could conceive as her best case scenario. They were young. She could have a lot of time to work through it. Maybe even make something productive out of it in the end. But Garnet would spend the rest of her life haunted to some degree by the things she didn't do and, if she was very unlucky, the things she did.
If she could find the will to kill her way out of this place.
She needed to give up.
It was not the first time Marco had looked at someone and realized they were on a rapidly expiring timer in these last days. It wasn't the second. Not even the third. He couldn't count how many people on a path straight to destruction self-made or otherwise he'd seen on this island, but he was sure Garnet would not be the last. It had not been easy to note it out loud the first time he had tried, and it became no easier the second, or the third. He could try a hundred more and the weight would not decrease. If anything it held him down heavier still because the nature of Garnet's destruction was so unclear; she wouldn't survive this place, but there was no one waiting at her back to betray her. She did not seem to be wasting away with unknown illness. Unless Justin had a more stealthy approach than his exit no one was coming back to hold her her at gunpoint. Yet it was still inevitable. The way she crumbled suggested she understood that.
He still couldn't say it.
Marco swallowed hard to clear the lump from his throat and thought of Princess. Of last best nights. Satisfaction. They helped him find words picked more carefully. "Yeah," he agreed, "plans are...what do you want, Garnet? What're the plans for when they're done? What..." There was no careful way to finish the thought. He looked to Kate and tried to ask the question more broadly. "What's the end look like here?"
Of course not. He recognized the toxic nature of the notion quickly enough. What he was really doing was trying to shift responsibility for his struggles away from himself on to his support network in a way that felt self-flagellating enough to be acceptable, a depression tinged spiral on how they should have just given up on him if they really loved him so he could be a better version of the person they wanted to protect. It wouldn't have worked that way. Rising from the ashes of perdition made for an inspirational story but phoenixes were mythical for a reason. Everything else just burned. If he crashed out in the normal world with no immediate consequences but disappointing people he was certain were already sick of his constant failures, there was no guarantee he'd ever get back up. So maybe Garnet knew that and despite all the times she must have wanted to throw in the towel and stop pulling for him, she knew he needed the help. He liked the sound of that. Probably not true, at least not completely, it sounded too hopeful after everything that passed between them, but it was nice.
Another motivation crept in the back of his mind though, one that he had an easier time believing because he was feeling it right now. Marco looked in Garnet's face as she spoke and heard the echo of what he should say next under her stop-start mumblings. She looked so tired. Beat like he'd never seen her after a loss before. There was no way to know what these past few days had done to her but even just the moments they shared on the announcements, every friend lost and killer she blamed herself for not stopping...that was a string of defeats that she couldn't just shrug off. It felt so obvious. Those last words, 'Maybe it's time to stop with the plans,' were just a blunted version of what he had to say. Silence fell again and he could feel the sentence waiting to fill it caught in his throat trying to find it's most diplomatic form and always returning to just two words.
Give up.
Garnet didn't have it in her to finish the game. He knew that when she left him bleeding at the waterfall. For all her rage about shutting down anyone making the game run she hadn't killed anyone in almost two weeks, and it was not like there was a shortage of available candidates. She'd had two right in front of her and she'd let them walk away; this last one could be said to be Katelynne and Marco's fault, but the point stood. Garnet didn't hunt Justin down with intent to kill. She didn't treat him like a threat at all. Screams and gunshots filled the air but as far as he could tell not one drop of blood made it to the ground. It was possible that left to her own devices she could have got him, but if she did it would be all passion. One moment of vindication followed by a lifetime of living with herself. Second guessing herself. Blaming herself. If it was long enough that she made it off of this island he could imagine her hunched over a screen somewhere going over footage day in and day out. There'd be a moment where if she'd been just a little faster she would have caught him at the lake, she'd be sure of it, or she could have caught up with him if she'd noticed his footprints going left instead of right, or she was only a few hundred feet from Shauna days before she died and if she'd just been at her side to protect her she would have made it a little farther, or she woke up so close, so unbelievably close, to a Quinn or a Justin or an Erika or a Michael or any number of names she would lash out against if she had just known to take them out then. That was the amazing part. A paradoxical stance that would sound unlikely at first blush but Marco felt he knew her well enough to believe it. Because as much as she would blame each and every killer on this island, if she ever managed to get away with ending any of their lives she would be right back on their feeds too. He couldn't say how soon the idea would get in her mind, but he knew it would end up there. Erika would be the first maybe, they had been close. Garnet would start where she woke up and follow along without missing a second, trying to pinpoint the exact moment her friend became a murderer. Not the deed itself, that was easy enough to find, but when her mind changed from the girl she rolled dice and who knew what else with to the sort of monster who could kill over a dozen people without slowing down. It had to have happened here somewhere, right? And there had to have been some chance that she could stop it? The right words at the right time could turn all those wrong decisions around and they would...she wouldn't get that far. She never got that far. Garnet would believe it though, by word or gesture or violence she would believe that she could have redeemed every one of their classmates who played the game if she was given enough time, and on the days where she no longer had the energy left to rage at them she would never forgive herself for failing.
That's the kind of life that was waiting for Garnet on the other side of the game. That was all he could conceive as her best case scenario. They were young. She could have a lot of time to work through it. Maybe even make something productive out of it in the end. But Garnet would spend the rest of her life haunted to some degree by the things she didn't do and, if she was very unlucky, the things she did.
If she could find the will to kill her way out of this place.
She needed to give up.
It was not the first time Marco had looked at someone and realized they were on a rapidly expiring timer in these last days. It wasn't the second. Not even the third. He couldn't count how many people on a path straight to destruction self-made or otherwise he'd seen on this island, but he was sure Garnet would not be the last. It had not been easy to note it out loud the first time he had tried, and it became no easier the second, or the third. He could try a hundred more and the weight would not decrease. If anything it held him down heavier still because the nature of Garnet's destruction was so unclear; she wouldn't survive this place, but there was no one waiting at her back to betray her. She did not seem to be wasting away with unknown illness. Unless Justin had a more stealthy approach than his exit no one was coming back to hold her her at gunpoint. Yet it was still inevitable. The way she crumbled suggested she understood that.
He still couldn't say it.
Marco swallowed hard to clear the lump from his throat and thought of Princess. Of last best nights. Satisfaction. They helped him find words picked more carefully. "Yeah," he agreed, "plans are...what do you want, Garnet? What're the plans for when they're done? What..." There was no careful way to finish the thought. He looked to Kate and tried to ask the question more broadly. "What's the end look like here?"
Katelynne nodded her head with Garnet's answer. She started to speak, making a few mousy sounds right as Marco chimed in. She backed off and nodding in chorus with him until he finished.
...What did the end look like, from here? It was so close now, Katelynne could reach out and just barely touch it with her fingers. But just like the moon on a clear night, it was still so far away. Waiting for the first man.
Plans never worked out. It was some silly jargon to throw at Garnet, Katelynne should've known better. After all, how many of her plans worked out by this point? None of them... none but one.
"To me, the end...," she jumped in, looking at Marco and back to Garnet, "...is to finish strong. I don't know how, or what, but I plan on gettin' to the end. And I'm gonna finish strong. Regardless of whatever's happened before... and whatever happens next... I hope you feel the same way, too. Both of y'all."
...Huh, déjà vu. It was the first time she really thought about it since Lucas abandoned her at the temple, but maybe in some way he got the strong finish he was seeking after all.
...What did the end look like, from here? It was so close now, Katelynne could reach out and just barely touch it with her fingers. But just like the moon on a clear night, it was still so far away. Waiting for the first man.
Plans never worked out. It was some silly jargon to throw at Garnet, Katelynne should've known better. After all, how many of her plans worked out by this point? None of them... none but one.
"To me, the end...," she jumped in, looking at Marco and back to Garnet, "...is to finish strong. I don't know how, or what, but I plan on gettin' to the end. And I'm gonna finish strong. Regardless of whatever's happened before... and whatever happens next... I hope you feel the same way, too. Both of y'all."
...Huh, déjà vu. It was the first time she really thought about it since Lucas abandoned her at the temple, but maybe in some way he got the strong finish he was seeking after all.
Weirdly liberating to say that just then. Maybe before that kind of idea smelled like giving up. Had she had it before? Garnet couldn't even remember if this was the first time. Probably not. Whatever. Same thought different result, might as well be a different thought. Even if not, well, that Garnet and the Garnet of today weren't really the same person any more. They were allowed to have different reads.
And like, that was kind of the thing because she'd never stopped. Not all the way. It'd always been this goal or that goal or ripping herself up for failing that goal or the other goal. So instead this was just... not doing that. She'd fucked it up so many times that it came back around to what she'd said aloud.
No more plans, and maybe, weirdly enough, that was what would, or could, open a door.
She smiled and she didn't know whether it was a sad smile. The emotions were on another plane right now. Had been for a while. What did they both see, looking back at her? Despair, at yet another thing that she just couldn't do right? Well, maybe. That was a lot of it. 'til a short while ago that was what it was. Broken to bits, the final fracture.
But, y'know, thinking about it, that was a reason why things had never panned out. Use the same reference over and over for a situation that it didn't and couldn't apply to, then wonder why nothing worked. Cause maybe she was looking at it the wrong way from the start.
Or maybe she just overestimated herself a hell of a lot. Maybe that.
Garnet didn't have the answers, it wasn't an earth-shattering revelation that turned her whole worldview upside down, it was just, it gave her some things to think about, maybe things she hadn't thought about the whole time here.
Marco was looking at her with something like worry in his eyes and Garnet didn't know how to take it. Offended? Amused? How the tables had tabled. She didn't get herself. She wasn't sure it was possible for Marco to. Maybe it was incompatible both ways. Maybe they'd diverged way too far since the moment she lost sight of him for the first time. Didn't know anything about finishing strong either, didn't want to think about that looked like for another person, could only barely hold it in her head for herself. How many steps closer to the end until a Justin wouldn't bail any more?
"I can't tell you guys about the end. But next? I'm taking a goddamn walk." Garnet pulled herself to full height, checked all her things. Yeah. A walk sounded good. "Later."
She walked away from them, but if you wanted to talk about an end, then maybe it was steps closer.
((Garnet continued in Certain Plan))
And like, that was kind of the thing because she'd never stopped. Not all the way. It'd always been this goal or that goal or ripping herself up for failing that goal or the other goal. So instead this was just... not doing that. She'd fucked it up so many times that it came back around to what she'd said aloud.
No more plans, and maybe, weirdly enough, that was what would, or could, open a door.
She smiled and she didn't know whether it was a sad smile. The emotions were on another plane right now. Had been for a while. What did they both see, looking back at her? Despair, at yet another thing that she just couldn't do right? Well, maybe. That was a lot of it. 'til a short while ago that was what it was. Broken to bits, the final fracture.
But, y'know, thinking about it, that was a reason why things had never panned out. Use the same reference over and over for a situation that it didn't and couldn't apply to, then wonder why nothing worked. Cause maybe she was looking at it the wrong way from the start.
Or maybe she just overestimated herself a hell of a lot. Maybe that.
Garnet didn't have the answers, it wasn't an earth-shattering revelation that turned her whole worldview upside down, it was just, it gave her some things to think about, maybe things she hadn't thought about the whole time here.
Marco was looking at her with something like worry in his eyes and Garnet didn't know how to take it. Offended? Amused? How the tables had tabled. She didn't get herself. She wasn't sure it was possible for Marco to. Maybe it was incompatible both ways. Maybe they'd diverged way too far since the moment she lost sight of him for the first time. Didn't know anything about finishing strong either, didn't want to think about that looked like for another person, could only barely hold it in her head for herself. How many steps closer to the end until a Justin wouldn't bail any more?
"I can't tell you guys about the end. But next? I'm taking a goddamn walk." Garnet pulled herself to full height, checked all her things. Yeah. A walk sounded good. "Later."
She walked away from them, but if you wanted to talk about an end, then maybe it was steps closer.
((Garnet continued in Certain Plan))
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Marco watched Garnet walk away and wondered what a world where he let her protect him looked like. Instead of going off alone that night he could have come to her. All the swirling doubts in his head could have spilled out on the gamble that it didn't matter if she understood anymore, and that if she did he could trust her without anymore reservations. He could have let her be the stabilizing force to his paranoia that she wanted to be, the guiding hand to his journey he'd felt as long as they'd known each other. Instead of spitting his transition in his face with a copaganda meme she might have held him. They might have cried. It might have been her voice that had spoken his name aloud the first time. He might have never met Nick at all. Kayla might still be alive. Garnet might have killed for him already. They might not have to pass unspoken questions through glances where their eyes didn't dare to meet directly.
They could still love each other.
It was not a better world than the they were in now. He couldn't confidently say it was worse. It was different. That was all. Whether he'd be happier, stronger, safer, healthier, he could speculate adjectives until Garnet was nothing but footprints and she would still be gone. They weren't in that world. "Later," he lied to her back with the full knowledge that if he saw her again he'd keep a wide berth. She'd probably do the same. Whether Garnet died as herself or in descent to the kind of monster she'd wanted to put her fist through from day one, she wanted to do it on her own.
The last two times someone close to him knew they would die they'd made sure wasn't there to see it. Garnet couldn't have known the pattern she was repeating and seemed to sickened by the idea of his appreciation to want thanks even if she had, but she was sparring him too. He wouldn't try to stop her.
They weren't in a world where he could protect her either.
Marco turned his attention to the world they were in. Katelynne was still with him. Her comments had been cryptic, even chillingly so in this context. "Finish strong," he muttered back to her. That could mean so many things here. It could mean she wanted to win. By extension it meant a lot more people had to die. That he was one of them. A spiral started to form about how often she'd sized up his back through the sights of her new rifle when he wasn't looking but he stomped the thought out before he could get out of control. There were so many opportunities for her to kill him before now, even right up to the moment she'd come after him and pulled him into cover. If she thought he was in danger she could have let him run to his death and vanished on all of them without anyone to blame her. Instead she'd been smart. De-escalated. Walked everybody out alive. Those weren't the tactics of a cold-blooded murderer. Her meaning involved more nuance in the short term at the very least. "Back there you, well, saying you saved me sounds dramatic but you pulled me back when I was...well, being dramatic. Sorry. Was stupid." Another statement he wasn't sure he believed. Rushing after Garnet had felt right. Keeping her and Justin alive felt right. If they wanted to finish strong though, together, he had to be more careful.
Could be that's why he let Garnet go so easy. If he accepted that he couldn't help her anymore than she'd been able to help him, was there anybody left for him to throw himself in front of out here?
No names came to mind.
"Finish strong," he repeated more firmly. Marco nodded. Still just two words. Better ones though. He liked the way they felt in the voice he'd been working on. "I got some thoughts about that, but we should get moving."
They'd find agreement in what they meant on the way.
((Marco Hart Continued Elsewhere))
They could still love each other.
It was not a better world than the they were in now. He couldn't confidently say it was worse. It was different. That was all. Whether he'd be happier, stronger, safer, healthier, he could speculate adjectives until Garnet was nothing but footprints and she would still be gone. They weren't in that world. "Later," he lied to her back with the full knowledge that if he saw her again he'd keep a wide berth. She'd probably do the same. Whether Garnet died as herself or in descent to the kind of monster she'd wanted to put her fist through from day one, she wanted to do it on her own.
The last two times someone close to him knew they would die they'd made sure wasn't there to see it. Garnet couldn't have known the pattern she was repeating and seemed to sickened by the idea of his appreciation to want thanks even if she had, but she was sparring him too. He wouldn't try to stop her.
They weren't in a world where he could protect her either.
Marco turned his attention to the world they were in. Katelynne was still with him. Her comments had been cryptic, even chillingly so in this context. "Finish strong," he muttered back to her. That could mean so many things here. It could mean she wanted to win. By extension it meant a lot more people had to die. That he was one of them. A spiral started to form about how often she'd sized up his back through the sights of her new rifle when he wasn't looking but he stomped the thought out before he could get out of control. There were so many opportunities for her to kill him before now, even right up to the moment she'd come after him and pulled him into cover. If she thought he was in danger she could have let him run to his death and vanished on all of them without anyone to blame her. Instead she'd been smart. De-escalated. Walked everybody out alive. Those weren't the tactics of a cold-blooded murderer. Her meaning involved more nuance in the short term at the very least. "Back there you, well, saying you saved me sounds dramatic but you pulled me back when I was...well, being dramatic. Sorry. Was stupid." Another statement he wasn't sure he believed. Rushing after Garnet had felt right. Keeping her and Justin alive felt right. If they wanted to finish strong though, together, he had to be more careful.
Could be that's why he let Garnet go so easy. If he accepted that he couldn't help her anymore than she'd been able to help him, was there anybody left for him to throw himself in front of out here?
No names came to mind.
"Finish strong," he repeated more firmly. Marco nodded. Still just two words. Better ones though. He liked the way they felt in the voice he'd been working on. "I got some thoughts about that, but we should get moving."
They'd find agreement in what they meant on the way.
((Marco Hart Continued Elsewhere))
Katelynne stayed silent and watched as Garnet wandered off.
"Saving" Marco was... a strong word for it. But she couldn't think of a better word for it, not right now. So she just nodded and said, "Not a problem."
She didn't say anything either as Marco started to take off. She just kept watching Garnet's ghost trail and listened to the crunching leaves slowly fading away for another minute before turning around and following behind.
((to be continued))
"Saving" Marco was... a strong word for it. But she couldn't think of a better word for it, not right now. So she just nodded and said, "Not a problem."
She didn't say anything either as Marco started to take off. She just kept watching Garnet's ghost trail and listened to the crunching leaves slowly fading away for another minute before turning around and following behind.
((to be continued))