((Arthur Wells continued from Calamity))
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Carrying Xavier's body around the woods in hopes of finding a secluded spot to leave it, something far enough off the beaten path to stave off the curiosity of other students who'd want to do things to it, was getting to be a real burden. It started getting stiff and unwieldy and, well, ripe soon enough. Once or twice Arthur felt a fly settling on his arm and had to shake the body to get them all off. The second time this happened, he accidentally banged Xavier's head into a tree, scraping the skin.
Just leave him there! It's a good enough spot as any! You're a sitting duck like this!
No, fuck that. He was a sitting duck any way he played this stupid-ass game, and Xavier deserved better than that. The two of them were rocks for each other, their conversations being some of the only places where Arthur felt he could really cut loose with how much of an escapist dork he was. Xavier meant too much to just leave to the wolves like this.
Thus the continuing purgatorial cycle of Arthur blundering through the woods, checking this tree and that to see, he didn't know, if one had a hollow to fold Xavier's body into. Not that he could really fold that body in the first place. He was considering the possibility that he could seriously contemplate the chance that he'd have to think long and hard about giving up on this little sidequest when he heard talking.
Friend or foe? Always a paramount question. So he carefully pinpointed the direction to go in and crept up as slowly as he could. He still snapped lots of twigs underfoot and he may or may not have snapped Xavier's ankle against a tree. It was hard for him to tell. As he crept closer, he could make out the conversation, words of regret, conciliation, and... remembrance? Did they actually remember that much about... fuck, it was Jason.
This time, Arthur was awake to hear the announcements, with Xavier making it in at the very end. Jason Meyers was another familiar name, if only for the cautionary tale he posed. Plenty of Arthur's brony friends assured him that people in general wouldn't give a shit if he was into My Little Pony, to which Arthur responded with rumors of Jason's secret being discovered. He lost quite a few so-called friends over this, and it always crept into Arthur's mind whenever he felt the instinct to bring it into a conversation. Loose lips sink ships, my friends.
And now Jason's ship lay slagged at the bottom of the ocean. That poor sod. Arthur stepped out into the clearing to see two people he didn't know, hearing a third person trudging off to who knows where. The guy was... someone. He'd get back to himself on who. But the girl he knew.
"Claire," he said, looking around the place. He'd be damned, they actually managed to bury Jason. Arthur hadn't even considered that possibility on account of him lacking a shovel. "Room for one more? Um, body. And live person. Two more. You know what I mean. Sorry."
Come on Everypony! Smile, smile, smile!
Funerals
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Jason better be happy wherever he is. It can at least let me believe that I'll be happy after all of this.
The other boy muttered some phrases in Spanish. Claire didn't know a whole ton of Spanish other than paying attention to the dirtier lines from Almodóvar's films, but she figured what the boy had to say had some real power to it. Just then, the boy walked away from the grave and wandered away, without saying anything to Claire and Kyle. Claire thought about going after him, but she stopped herself.
He has the right to leave. What we just did really wasn't easy. Fuck, I still can't believe I did this. Claire Emilia Monaghan, director of art house cinema and grave digger. There's no way I can put that on a business card.
Claire wiped her eyes. Before she could do anything else, she head a voice call out to her. She turned and saw Arthur Wells standing there, holding a body in his arms. She knew Arthur as being a pretty arty but quiet kid. The sight of him holding a body was pretty grim, but she alleviated any fears that Arthur killed him. She recognized exactly who he was holding. Xavier Contel was a real big otaku, and an eccentric one at that. She knew he and Arthur were close, and from the way Arthur was holding him, she knew something terrible had to have happened.
"Uh, sure, you can join us," she said.
She quickly cleared her throat and tried to brush more of the dirt of her Korra shirt.
"It's getting dark soon, so we'll have to work quickly. You can place Xavier on the gurney, and we'll push him over to the next clear spot. We've only got two shovels, but we can take turns digging."
Claire flexed her hands. The blisters still stung, making her realize she'd have to grit her teeth as they did more digging.
Two bodies in one day. Oh god.
The other boy muttered some phrases in Spanish. Claire didn't know a whole ton of Spanish other than paying attention to the dirtier lines from Almodóvar's films, but she figured what the boy had to say had some real power to it. Just then, the boy walked away from the grave and wandered away, without saying anything to Claire and Kyle. Claire thought about going after him, but she stopped herself.
He has the right to leave. What we just did really wasn't easy. Fuck, I still can't believe I did this. Claire Emilia Monaghan, director of art house cinema and grave digger. There's no way I can put that on a business card.
Claire wiped her eyes. Before she could do anything else, she head a voice call out to her. She turned and saw Arthur Wells standing there, holding a body in his arms. She knew Arthur as being a pretty arty but quiet kid. The sight of him holding a body was pretty grim, but she alleviated any fears that Arthur killed him. She recognized exactly who he was holding. Xavier Contel was a real big otaku, and an eccentric one at that. She knew he and Arthur were close, and from the way Arthur was holding him, she knew something terrible had to have happened.
"Uh, sure, you can join us," she said.
She quickly cleared her throat and tried to brush more of the dirt of her Korra shirt.
"It's getting dark soon, so we'll have to work quickly. You can place Xavier on the gurney, and we'll push him over to the next clear spot. We've only got two shovels, but we can take turns digging."
Claire flexed her hands. The blisters still stung, making her realize she'd have to grit her teeth as they did more digging.
Two bodies in one day. Oh god.
Kyle didn't really know Xavier too well. Then again, he could really say that for pretty much everyone in his class. He sighed as he finished shovelling dirt onto the hole where they had placed Xavier's body. His grave looked rather neat and tidy right next to Jason's.
He took a step back as he looked over the two mounds of dirt in front of him. It was strange to think that, only a day earlier, these had been his classmates. They were living, breathing human beings, and now they were just piles of dirt in the ground. Kyle swallowed.
Isn't that what they all were destined for, really? Kyle held no illusions about his chances for survival. Hundreds of kids had lost their lives to this game, with a relatively small number of survivors. He had asked himself many before whether or not he felt lucky enough to be part of that group.
The answer was invariably..."No".
Shaking off his thoughts, he looked towards the other people standing next to him. He wanted to say something, but at the same time, he couldn't. Nothing he could think of would really be appropriate at a time like this.
He took a step back as he looked over the two mounds of dirt in front of him. It was strange to think that, only a day earlier, these had been his classmates. They were living, breathing human beings, and now they were just piles of dirt in the ground. Kyle swallowed.
Isn't that what they all were destined for, really? Kyle held no illusions about his chances for survival. Hundreds of kids had lost their lives to this game, with a relatively small number of survivors. He had asked himself many before whether or not he felt lucky enough to be part of that group.
The answer was invariably..."No".
Shaking off his thoughts, he looked towards the other people standing next to him. He wanted to say something, but at the same time, he couldn't. Nothing he could think of would really be appropriate at a time like this.
A few hours later, they had Xavier in the ground. They dug a hole next to Jason's, laid more rocks, and did it all before it got too dark. Claire's hands continued to sting from the blisters. Her hair was becoming frizzy and more disheveled from the humidity and the sweat. She got more dirt on her clothing and her skin, which was starting to itch when combined with sweat. If Claire had the chance to look at herself in a mirror, she would probably say she looked like Charlize Theron in Monster. But she didn't have time to care about her appearance. They had a funeral they had to quickly attend to.
Claire didn't know a whole ton about Xavier. Arthur probably had more to say about the boy than she did, but it would be disrespectful to say nothing. Xavier at least deserved some reverence despite everything.
"So, like Jason, Xavier was a tragic victim of circumstance. He should be at Disneyland, he should be watching anime, he should be planning for the next convention to come through Seattle. But he's not, and that's a real shame. He didn't deserve this, and really, none of us do. I just hope there's some miracle to come out of all of this tragedy. There just has to be."
Claire wiped her eyes. She was feeling really tired after just one day of work. She wasn't likely to find any caffeine on the island, so she was probably going to crash soon.
"Arthur, would you like to say something?"
Claire didn't know a whole ton about Xavier. Arthur probably had more to say about the boy than she did, but it would be disrespectful to say nothing. Xavier at least deserved some reverence despite everything.
"So, like Jason, Xavier was a tragic victim of circumstance. He should be at Disneyland, he should be watching anime, he should be planning for the next convention to come through Seattle. But he's not, and that's a real shame. He didn't deserve this, and really, none of us do. I just hope there's some miracle to come out of all of this tragedy. There just has to be."
Claire wiped her eyes. She was feeling really tired after just one day of work. She wasn't likely to find any caffeine on the island, so she was probably going to crash soon.
"Arthur, would you like to say something?"
Arthur panted and groaned, unable to stand at attention during the funeral. The digging had exhausted him too much. He felt the aches and stitches in his legs and back, which would likely remain until he had a time to rest. In and out, he flexed his fingers, where skin came dangerously close to sloughing off in places, filling the gaps with pus and fluid. It stung, and he knew he'd have to resist the temptation to just... pop them. Let it all out, let the germs in. He shouldn't forget the risk of infection. The joints of his fingers ached, felt like the bone had started to crack and grind during the digging process.
How useless was Arthur when Kyle and Claire had managed to do this twice? How useless was the act of burying students, favoring some of them over others? Arthur didn't know, and he just wanted to have some fucking sleep, maybe getting to die during that time. He found it hard to care at this point.
But Claire wanted him to say some words. He really should. He was the one who wanted Xavier buried, and he was the one who actually befriended Xavier. As far as he knew, Xavier was only an acquaintance to Claire and Kyle. He didn't have to warrant a burial, but they gave it to him anyway. So what kind of friend would he be if he didn't speak now?
He stood up and looked at the mound of dirt that represented Xavier. "I'm going to miss you." What to say next? He was never any good at speeches. "What I liked best about you was that you never made me feel like a freak. I had some crazy ideas about, you know, fan works, what to draw and what to write, and I couldn't talk to most people about that because I keep hearing those people, the fic writers and shut ins, being the butt of jokes and shit. I didn't... I didn't want people to know me like that, so I guess they barely knew me at all. But you always listened. You always gave me feedback, your own ideas, and the good kind of laughter."
He thought of the private ideas that he had, be they shipping, crossovers, grimdark, and just plain goofiness. His eyes closed and he had a sad smile on his face. Even now he didn't want to name examples, because Claire and Kyle weren't his people, online and with screen names obscuring their faces and voices. The viewing public knew the name he published all his material under online. They could look that shit up if they really wanted.
"Thanks for the collaboration, Xavier. I'm gonna miss you." He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and lay down on the ground.
"You think one of us could stand watch? I can't... I need rest. Sorry."
How useless was Arthur when Kyle and Claire had managed to do this twice? How useless was the act of burying students, favoring some of them over others? Arthur didn't know, and he just wanted to have some fucking sleep, maybe getting to die during that time. He found it hard to care at this point.
But Claire wanted him to say some words. He really should. He was the one who wanted Xavier buried, and he was the one who actually befriended Xavier. As far as he knew, Xavier was only an acquaintance to Claire and Kyle. He didn't have to warrant a burial, but they gave it to him anyway. So what kind of friend would he be if he didn't speak now?
He stood up and looked at the mound of dirt that represented Xavier. "I'm going to miss you." What to say next? He was never any good at speeches. "What I liked best about you was that you never made me feel like a freak. I had some crazy ideas about, you know, fan works, what to draw and what to write, and I couldn't talk to most people about that because I keep hearing those people, the fic writers and shut ins, being the butt of jokes and shit. I didn't... I didn't want people to know me like that, so I guess they barely knew me at all. But you always listened. You always gave me feedback, your own ideas, and the good kind of laughter."
He thought of the private ideas that he had, be they shipping, crossovers, grimdark, and just plain goofiness. His eyes closed and he had a sad smile on his face. Even now he didn't want to name examples, because Claire and Kyle weren't his people, online and with screen names obscuring their faces and voices. The viewing public knew the name he published all his material under online. They could look that shit up if they really wanted.
"Thanks for the collaboration, Xavier. I'm gonna miss you." He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and lay down on the ground.
"You think one of us could stand watch? I can't... I need rest. Sorry."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solitair. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Well, it was done. Two bodies in one day. Kyle sighed. His whole body felt like lead. He sat down on the ground, laying his shovel beside him as he watched the sunset.
He was vaguely aware of the others talking behind him, but he was far too tired to care at this point. Trying to come to terms with one's impending death wasn't exactly an energising experience. It was a shame. So much potential in this group of kids, wasted. All their memories, thoughts and dreams would be soon gone, fading away into nothingness. To say that it was depressing would be the understatement of the century.
Kyle was hardly religious, but he could definitely see the appeal in it. Who wouldn't want to have their consciousness continue existing after this? He scratched absentmindedly under his vest as he thought. Of course, there was always the problem of pain. What kind of loving deity would allow his creations to go through so much suffering? While many had tried to answer this question, none of them had been convincing enough to Kyle. It was such a shame, really. He really could have done with a little hope here.
He heard a break in the conversation and turned back to see what was going on. It seemed that they were going to sleep by the graves. A somewhat unnerving, yet understandable proposition. As tired as he was, Kyle didn't really trust anyone but himself to make sure that nobody tried to kill him while he slept. He was definitely going to keep one eye open while that other guy took his. After a brief awkward silence, Kyle spoke up.
"I...I'll take the first watch."
He turned away from the others, gazing off into the distance. In a few moments, he would be completely alone. Just him and his thoughts.
((Kyle Fitzpatrick continued in Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee))
He was vaguely aware of the others talking behind him, but he was far too tired to care at this point. Trying to come to terms with one's impending death wasn't exactly an energising experience. It was a shame. So much potential in this group of kids, wasted. All their memories, thoughts and dreams would be soon gone, fading away into nothingness. To say that it was depressing would be the understatement of the century.
Kyle was hardly religious, but he could definitely see the appeal in it. Who wouldn't want to have their consciousness continue existing after this? He scratched absentmindedly under his vest as he thought. Of course, there was always the problem of pain. What kind of loving deity would allow his creations to go through so much suffering? While many had tried to answer this question, none of them had been convincing enough to Kyle. It was such a shame, really. He really could have done with a little hope here.
He heard a break in the conversation and turned back to see what was going on. It seemed that they were going to sleep by the graves. A somewhat unnerving, yet understandable proposition. As tired as he was, Kyle didn't really trust anyone but himself to make sure that nobody tried to kill him while he slept. He was definitely going to keep one eye open while that other guy took his. After a brief awkward silence, Kyle spoke up.
"I...I'll take the first watch."
He turned away from the others, gazing off into the distance. In a few moments, he would be completely alone. Just him and his thoughts.
((Kyle Fitzpatrick continued in Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee))
Claire closed her eyes as Arthur began to speak. She was probably on the verge of falling asleep soon. Despite that, Claire didn't want to sleep. She wanted a nice meal, a hot bubble bath, and not to be on this fucking island. The first two were completely out of her reach, and the third would only come if the military picked up the pace.
She tried to listen to Arthur's speech. Arthur and Xavier apparently had a mutual bond of the fandom side of the internet. She figured that they wrote fics together or shared in mutual geekdom. It seemed hard for Arthur to admit that kind of interest in public, so it appeared that Xavier was his release for that.
I guess he was lucky to have someone like that. I might be unabashed in my love of arthouse cinema and all things media, but I guess not everyone can be like that. It's such a shame.
When Arthur was done, he suggested they rest and take watch. Kyle offered to take first watch.
"Sounds good. Tomorrow, we need to get moving. We might need an extra shovel now, and we can probably find some supplies in the town."
And we'll probably also find some more dead students. Fuck.
Claire sat on the ground and pulled her bag over to her side. She reached in and pulled out the first aid kit. She couldn't go to sleep unless she dealt with the blisters on her hands. She'd have to clean and bandage them to avoid bleeding. As she began to work on her hands, Claire sighed.
The people I've grown up with are being shot, stabbed, and tortured to death. The only injury I face is blisters to my hands. How is it that I get to be so lucky?
Claire began to wrap a bandage around her left hand.
Wait, I'm not lucky. I'm just not dead yet.
Claire continued to work on her hands. It was going to be a long week, and she needed to be ready for what would come next. More students would start to die as days passed, and it was likely they'd be unable to walk ten feet without finding a body. After Claire finished wrapping her hands, she rested her head on her jean jacket and tried to sleep. She turned away from the boys. She didn't want them to see her crying as she fell asleep.
((Claire Monaghan continued in Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee))
She tried to listen to Arthur's speech. Arthur and Xavier apparently had a mutual bond of the fandom side of the internet. She figured that they wrote fics together or shared in mutual geekdom. It seemed hard for Arthur to admit that kind of interest in public, so it appeared that Xavier was his release for that.
I guess he was lucky to have someone like that. I might be unabashed in my love of arthouse cinema and all things media, but I guess not everyone can be like that. It's such a shame.
When Arthur was done, he suggested they rest and take watch. Kyle offered to take first watch.
"Sounds good. Tomorrow, we need to get moving. We might need an extra shovel now, and we can probably find some supplies in the town."
And we'll probably also find some more dead students. Fuck.
Claire sat on the ground and pulled her bag over to her side. She reached in and pulled out the first aid kit. She couldn't go to sleep unless she dealt with the blisters on her hands. She'd have to clean and bandage them to avoid bleeding. As she began to work on her hands, Claire sighed.
The people I've grown up with are being shot, stabbed, and tortured to death. The only injury I face is blisters to my hands. How is it that I get to be so lucky?
Claire began to wrap a bandage around her left hand.
Wait, I'm not lucky. I'm just not dead yet.
Claire continued to work on her hands. It was going to be a long week, and she needed to be ready for what would come next. More students would start to die as days passed, and it was likely they'd be unable to walk ten feet without finding a body. After Claire finished wrapping her hands, she rested her head on her jean jacket and tried to sleep. She turned away from the boys. She didn't want them to see her crying as she fell asleep.
((Claire Monaghan continued in Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee))
Arthur got some rest, and followed along the next day, though he mostly stayed out of the way. As they reached the clubhouse, he paused to rest outside, and as a result only saw what transpired next from afar.
((Arthur Wells continued in Everyone Dies))
((Arthur Wells continued in Everyone Dies))
