[[Mary Ann Warren, continued from Sometimes Sanctuary Isn't So Far Away]]
Mary Ann had spent all night hiding, running, searching- it somehow felt routine after doing it for two days straight. Though she had yet to directly interact with anyone on this island, the girl simply could not shake the feeling she was being chased. Mary had run so long and so far that different locations became familiar, and she began to discern the relationships between them by distance and direction- though an advantage, this was no comfort to Mary Ann. She didn't want to get to know this place. She didn't want to be G108. She wanted to go home, where she only ran if she wanted to. Where she only hid if she wanted to. Where casual acquaintances were just that, and danger lurked only in their words.
Mary Ann stopped for a moment, and dropped the sword that still added weight to every step. Her wrists hurt like hell- every time it got unbearable to hold the sword she'd switch hands, but it became harsher each time as her fatigue increased and time between switches slimmed. More than once she'd considered leaving the damn thing, but being caught without a weapon scared her far too much to let her follow through.
Long story short, Mary Ann's nerves were getting to her. About 22 hours had passed since her last labored attempt at sleep, and her body was sore from the weight of her bags and her weapon. Mary Ann needed rest, but where? Everywhere she went that would have shelter, the voices of her fellow students had chased her away... and there was no possibility of going back to the houses in town. Not after what she'd seen. Mary Ann took care to hold her skirt underneath her thighs as she sat down on a stump several feet away. Her head pounded- she had Ibuprofen in her backpack, but was it worth wasting water?
Her headache pounded out a resounding "YES!" Mary Ann gave in- she knew that if she needed water later she'd hate herself for this moment, but that didn't matter. Not now. The water felt amazing streaming down her throat, cleansing the swelling feeling Ibuprofen always put in the back of her mouth- it felt a little too amazing, unfortunately. When she finished Mary Ann found half of the bottle gone. Damn it! Mary Ann wanted to cry- but she knew better than to make her headache worse.
As she looked around, Mary Ann found herself surrounded by stumps. Stumps, and... Oh no.
About twenty feet away, behind one of the stumps... a pair of legs.
Please be alive please be alive please be alive! She ran towards the legs, leaving her sword and bags behind. Please be alive. Those legs were the only thing important in the world, especially if they were still alive, if there was something she could still do for them.
It would've been better if they had just stayed legs- those were probably the least disgusting part of the body sprawled on the ground in front of Mary Ann. It was dark and extremely hard to see, but the stench hanging in the air above the body said enough.
For several seconds, all senses left Mary Ann's consciousness. She couldn't feel anything, she couldn't hear anything- not even her own thoughts. It was as though the universe and all life in it had frozen... until it started again. After those seconds of blackness, everything rushed to Mary Ann's heart and mind in bare moments- it was like in an action movie, where the hero makes a shot and everything slows down for a second to let the audience see the precision of the shot- but nothing about this was exciting, or cool, or worth applause from an audience. An almost disturbingly loud sob escaped the girl's throat as she dropped down to the corpse.
"Who are you?" She almost wanted to shake it when it didn't answer... no... no, not it. This was a girl's body. But the girl still would not answer. "Who are you... who are you... who...?" Mary Ann brought her knees to her face and wept for the girl who hadn't gotten the chance to hide.
The Cries of the Voiceless
PRIVATE: Mary Ann Warren and RJ Lowe. Approx. 4AM in the morning that will become Day 3.
The Cries of the Voiceless
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((R.J. Lowe continued from Clap For The Killers))
At first, everything was beautiful. The sun shone bright in the cloudless sky, meadows of pure green stretched as far as the eye could see on both sides, and not a single car obstructed the highway as R.J. and Elizabeth tore down the road at top speed. Her engine roared with the fury of a raging lioness, but to R.J.'s ears, she was purring like a kitten. This was the feeling he truly lived for. This was what freedom truly felt like. One man, two wheels, and no obstacles.
Then, off in the distance, to the left, a lone tree stump. He thought nothing of it initially, simply driving on past it. He thought not much of the one he passed on the right shortly thereafter. It was only as the bare stumps and dead logs began to dot the landscape that he took notice, and it only grew thicker with them the farther he went, until he was eventually driving through a vast, dried up elephant graveyard of trees, the verdant, full-of-life meadows now just a fleeting memory. Above him, clouds began to form, white and wispy at first, but quickly expanding to a thick, black mass of vapor until the sun vanished without a trace. He looked down from the darkening sky, only to discover that the landscape had changed once more. The world around him was littered in corpses. Corpses of everyone he had ever known, all in various states of decay, splayed out across the felled forest. And straight ahead, standing in the middle of the road, was a girl, her skin pale, blood staining her pure, white dress as it dripped from a hole in her gut. A girl named Eva Lancaster. He tried to stop, but the brakes wouldn't budge. He tried to turn, but Elizabeth wouldn't let him steer. All he could do was stare helplessly as he awaited the inevitable impact, before he awoke in a cold sweat, shooting bolt upright from his makeshift bed on the forest floor, the taste of bile heavy in his mouth. Stumbling over to one side, he proceeded to cover a nearby stump in water, wheat, and stomach acid.
Only by virtue of spending two days awake and moving was R.J. able to sleep at all that night. Thoughts of what he'd done had continued to haunt his conscious mind. Thoughts of what could make a girl like Kris Hartmann a murderer. His own murderous rage at Staffan Kronwall. The fear of his own inevitable demise. Everything about his situation conspired to keep him from sleeping peacefully, and the conspiracy had thus far succeeded. For a moment, he thought about laying back down and trying again, until a new circumstance presented itself. A voice. A girl's voice, specifically. One that sounded oddly familiar, but that he was still too tired to recognize. More importantly, it was disturbingly close. He speedily grabbed his gun and his flashlight, having kept them close at hand as he slept, in case of an emergency. Shining the light in the direction the sound came from, the beam illuminated the figure that stood no more than 20 yards ahead.
...Oh my god.
Mary Ann Warren was the last face he'd hoped to see. Not because he didn't like her, of course, but because he really, really did. He hadn't been able to find her when they were getting on the buses, so he'd hoped she'd gotten lucky and not been able to come. Not only that, but now he had to be reunited with the girl he lovreally, really liked as a killer, something she'd inevitably find out about for herself.
Why... why couldn't you have just stayed home...
It was all he could do to helplessly drop both the gun and the light to the forest floor, simply standing there, nerves freezing him in place.
At first, everything was beautiful. The sun shone bright in the cloudless sky, meadows of pure green stretched as far as the eye could see on both sides, and not a single car obstructed the highway as R.J. and Elizabeth tore down the road at top speed. Her engine roared with the fury of a raging lioness, but to R.J.'s ears, she was purring like a kitten. This was the feeling he truly lived for. This was what freedom truly felt like. One man, two wheels, and no obstacles.
Then, off in the distance, to the left, a lone tree stump. He thought nothing of it initially, simply driving on past it. He thought not much of the one he passed on the right shortly thereafter. It was only as the bare stumps and dead logs began to dot the landscape that he took notice, and it only grew thicker with them the farther he went, until he was eventually driving through a vast, dried up elephant graveyard of trees, the verdant, full-of-life meadows now just a fleeting memory. Above him, clouds began to form, white and wispy at first, but quickly expanding to a thick, black mass of vapor until the sun vanished without a trace. He looked down from the darkening sky, only to discover that the landscape had changed once more. The world around him was littered in corpses. Corpses of everyone he had ever known, all in various states of decay, splayed out across the felled forest. And straight ahead, standing in the middle of the road, was a girl, her skin pale, blood staining her pure, white dress as it dripped from a hole in her gut. A girl named Eva Lancaster. He tried to stop, but the brakes wouldn't budge. He tried to turn, but Elizabeth wouldn't let him steer. All he could do was stare helplessly as he awaited the inevitable impact, before he awoke in a cold sweat, shooting bolt upright from his makeshift bed on the forest floor, the taste of bile heavy in his mouth. Stumbling over to one side, he proceeded to cover a nearby stump in water, wheat, and stomach acid.
Only by virtue of spending two days awake and moving was R.J. able to sleep at all that night. Thoughts of what he'd done had continued to haunt his conscious mind. Thoughts of what could make a girl like Kris Hartmann a murderer. His own murderous rage at Staffan Kronwall. The fear of his own inevitable demise. Everything about his situation conspired to keep him from sleeping peacefully, and the conspiracy had thus far succeeded. For a moment, he thought about laying back down and trying again, until a new circumstance presented itself. A voice. A girl's voice, specifically. One that sounded oddly familiar, but that he was still too tired to recognize. More importantly, it was disturbingly close. He speedily grabbed his gun and his flashlight, having kept them close at hand as he slept, in case of an emergency. Shining the light in the direction the sound came from, the beam illuminated the figure that stood no more than 20 yards ahead.
...Oh my god.
Mary Ann Warren was the last face he'd hoped to see. Not because he didn't like her, of course, but because he really, really did. He hadn't been able to find her when they were getting on the buses, so he'd hoped she'd gotten lucky and not been able to come. Not only that, but now he had to be reunited with the girl he lovreally, really liked as a killer, something she'd inevitably find out about for herself.
Why... why couldn't you have just stayed home...
It was all he could do to helplessly drop both the gun and the light to the forest floor, simply standing there, nerves freezing him in place.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. 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.
When was the last time Mary Ann had cried like this? She'd shed some tears here on the island, but only now had she dropped everything to have one long session of sobs. Mary Ann really didn't cry very often- being a teenage girl basically guaranteed some tears, but Mary Ann's life had generally kept her content and at peace- until now, of course. She straightened herself out and began to wipe her ey-
Light.
Someone had found her. "Shit!" Mary Ann didn't normally curse, but Jesus, was this a time to start muttering such foul things under her breath. Why did I make all that noise oh god oh god oh god-
Thud.
Something hit the ground. Whoever had the light must have dropped something. A weapon? Did that mean he or she wouldn't use it? Mary Ann hastily stood to view her visitor who still had not spoken or made any attempt to greet her. That doesn't make sense... if they were planning to sneak up on me they wouldn't have shone th- oh no.
She could've been wrong (oh god please be wrong), but... anyone else probably would've attacked or something by now (you don't know this place, it could be anyone)... she slowly staggered towards the figure. The lights were blinding her, but she could see that it was a large, tall person, probably male- (still could be anyone, please be anyone but-)
R.J. Lowe.
She'd almost forgotten about him in all the confusion of this ordeal. She remembered their time together, not long before the end of school- passing notes in algebra and the library, rides home from school on the motorcycle, that night at the movies... how could he be here? Though on the other hand, a large part of her was glad to have found not only a familiar face, but the most familiar of them all- and the rest of her hated that part with a burning passion for wishing such a fate on that face. At this point, she suddenly grew a self-consciousness she hadn't felt in what seemed like forever- Oh god, I must look like hell right now. She could practically see it now- her clothes covered in sweat and dirt, dark rings under her eyes, red blotches from all the tears shed over the past couple days- a tiny part of her tried to convince her that, knowing the nature of this game, he'd just be happy to see her- oh, right. The Game.
He couldn't possibly- I mean, she could never even dream of doing- doing that. But then again, if Danya had been right, there could only be one winner. Even if they were the luckiest- even if it came down to just them- Great, more tears. Come on, don't cry... don't cry, you'll worry him. He's just as scared as you are... Right. As bitter as it was, she had to be happy to see him. Nothing would change the situation, but surely there was no harm in trying to be happy for only a minute, right? These were the thoughts that ran through the head of Mary Ann Warren, as she continued to stagger, open armed, towards the first reminder of home she had found here. Welcome home, Mary Ann.
Light.
Someone had found her. "Shit!" Mary Ann didn't normally curse, but Jesus, was this a time to start muttering such foul things under her breath. Why did I make all that noise oh god oh god oh god-
Thud.
Something hit the ground. Whoever had the light must have dropped something. A weapon? Did that mean he or she wouldn't use it? Mary Ann hastily stood to view her visitor who still had not spoken or made any attempt to greet her. That doesn't make sense... if they were planning to sneak up on me they wouldn't have shone th- oh no.
She could've been wrong (oh god please be wrong), but... anyone else probably would've attacked or something by now (you don't know this place, it could be anyone)... she slowly staggered towards the figure. The lights were blinding her, but she could see that it was a large, tall person, probably male- (still could be anyone, please be anyone but-)
R.J. Lowe.
She'd almost forgotten about him in all the confusion of this ordeal. She remembered their time together, not long before the end of school- passing notes in algebra and the library, rides home from school on the motorcycle, that night at the movies... how could he be here? Though on the other hand, a large part of her was glad to have found not only a familiar face, but the most familiar of them all- and the rest of her hated that part with a burning passion for wishing such a fate on that face. At this point, she suddenly grew a self-consciousness she hadn't felt in what seemed like forever- Oh god, I must look like hell right now. She could practically see it now- her clothes covered in sweat and dirt, dark rings under her eyes, red blotches from all the tears shed over the past couple days- a tiny part of her tried to convince her that, knowing the nature of this game, he'd just be happy to see her- oh, right. The Game.
He couldn't possibly- I mean, she could never even dream of doing- doing that. But then again, if Danya had been right, there could only be one winner. Even if they were the luckiest- even if it came down to just them- Great, more tears. Come on, don't cry... don't cry, you'll worry him. He's just as scared as you are... Right. As bitter as it was, she had to be happy to see him. Nothing would change the situation, but surely there was no harm in trying to be happy for only a minute, right? These were the thoughts that ran through the head of Mary Ann Warren, as she continued to stagger, open armed, towards the first reminder of home she had found here. Welcome home, Mary Ann.
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She didn't need to stagger far. Tears welling up in his eyes, he closed the distance as quickly as his feet would carry him. He didn't give a damn how dirty she was, or how red her eyes were. She was the most beautiful sight he could have hoped to see, simply because of who she was. If she absolutely had to be in this godforsaken hellhole, there was no place he'd rather she'd be than in his arms, safe and sound, the one place he knew no one could hurt her. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her with every ounce of energy he had left. He sniffed. If Mary Ann hadn't cleaned herself in the previous couple of days, she needn't worry, as she was getting a shower right now.
He had so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to confess what he'd done. To explain why he had to do it. To ask if she could ever forgive him, if she could ever see him the same way again. He wanted to tell her it would all be okay. That he would stay with her to the end. That he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That if he had to, he would give his last breath in the hopes that she made it home safe. That god dammit, forget what he'd thought earlier, he did love her, and nothing would ever change that.
That he hoped she would please just stay with him.
That he just didn't want to die alone.
He almost tried, too.
He had so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to confess what he'd done. To explain why he had to do it. To ask if she could ever forgive him, if she could ever see him the same way again. He wanted to tell her it would all be okay. That he would stay with her to the end. That he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That if he had to, he would give his last breath in the hopes that she made it home safe. That god dammit, forget what he'd thought earlier, he did love her, and nothing would ever change that.
That he hoped she would please just stay with him.
That he just didn't want to die alone.
He almost tried, too.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. 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.
Mary Ann had no idea how long they stood in that spot. It could have been minutes, hours- but that didn't matter to her. In fact, she didn't want to know- for only when they broke the safety of that embrace would they have to return to reality as the bloodthirsty island wanted it. R.J. must have known this as well- perhaps that was why he kept his arms wrapped tightly around the girl, silent sobs shaking both their bodies.
What had he seen? Mary Ann had already seen death... surely, he had seen it too. Nineteen dead... no, twenty, actually. Well, counting that one she'd seen... was that girl over by the stump one of the nineteen or was she new...? That would make twenty-one if she was... but then again, she hadn't seen anyone die on the first day, so if it was like then there would be around nineteen she hadn't seen... So twenty-one plus nineteen- thirty- no, forty exactly. By her own probably flawed calculations. How many of those forty had R.J. seen?
Mary Ann hated thinking of all those people that way- numbers. One number getting picked off every hour. Probably because she was one of them herself- girl number one hundred and eight. Those words echoed through her mind, making cold, empty sounds as they bounced off of invisible walls in her brain.
Both were finally beginning to calm down. She pulled away- careful to keep the unity of their arms intact- to look at his face... or at least try to. If there had been more light, she would have tried to find clues in his eyes, to decipher the horrors he could not explain to her. She reached a hand towards his face- "I'm sorry."
For what? She wondered. Though nothing about their predicament was through any fault of her own, that was the only phrase in her mind that seemed appropriate. I'm sorry we're here. I'm sorry I couldn't help that girl, or that young man who fell into the water. I'm sorry I can't help you... Empty apologies joined the numbers in her mind.
"I... in my bag. I think I have a notebook or something... if you need to..." But even then, writing took time. And they only had so much time... "But... this is fine too." She moved closer again to take in the last seconds of warmth.
What had he seen? Mary Ann had already seen death... surely, he had seen it too. Nineteen dead... no, twenty, actually. Well, counting that one she'd seen... was that girl over by the stump one of the nineteen or was she new...? That would make twenty-one if she was... but then again, she hadn't seen anyone die on the first day, so if it was like then there would be around nineteen she hadn't seen... So twenty-one plus nineteen- thirty- no, forty exactly. By her own probably flawed calculations. How many of those forty had R.J. seen?
Mary Ann hated thinking of all those people that way- numbers. One number getting picked off every hour. Probably because she was one of them herself- girl number one hundred and eight. Those words echoed through her mind, making cold, empty sounds as they bounced off of invisible walls in her brain.
Both were finally beginning to calm down. She pulled away- careful to keep the unity of their arms intact- to look at his face... or at least try to. If there had been more light, she would have tried to find clues in his eyes, to decipher the horrors he could not explain to her. She reached a hand towards his face- "I'm sorry."
For what? She wondered. Though nothing about their predicament was through any fault of her own, that was the only phrase in her mind that seemed appropriate. I'm sorry we're here. I'm sorry I couldn't help that girl, or that young man who fell into the water. I'm sorry I can't help you... Empty apologies joined the numbers in her mind.
"I... in my bag. I think I have a notebook or something... if you need to..." But even then, writing took time. And they only had so much time... "But... this is fine too." She moved closer again to take in the last seconds of warmth.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ella. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
A notebook. He could work with that. Not as fast as typing on his PDA, sure, but they'd taken that from his bag. And even if they had light, it was still faster than writing in the dirt. Which reminded him... the flashlight might help about now. He raised his index finger, signaling that he'd be back in a second. He ran back to his own supplies, retrieving the gun and flashlight he'd dropped, tucking the former into his pa- no, best to put it in the bag. At least for now.
It didn't take more than a minute to gather his things and return, and fortunately, Mary Ann hadn't gone anywhere. Using his shoulder to hold the light in place, he searched her bag for writing supplies. The notebook was easy enough, sitting right on top of everything else. Pencils or pens, however, were less readily apparent. He started to carefully sort through her things, scanning between the rations, the first aid kit, her extra clothes, her - oh dear. Those were... those were polka dots, all right. R.J.'s cheeks went red as he proceeded to gently tuck those in a far corner under everything else. Just keep on looking, keep on looki- aha! Fresh, unopened package of pencils. He pulled one out, before taking a seat on a nearby stump and starting to write.
He knew what he wanted to tell her, but he had a bit more trouble knowing what to say. Obviously, a simple "Hey, I killed a girl" wouldn't exactly cut it. Then again, what could? He'd done the unthinkable, and he wouldn't blame Mary Ann if she never wanted to see him again. He had to try, though. He had to tell her what he'd done. Lying by omission was still lying.
"You know that I would do anything to see you go home safe, right?"
It didn't take more than a minute to gather his things and return, and fortunately, Mary Ann hadn't gone anywhere. Using his shoulder to hold the light in place, he searched her bag for writing supplies. The notebook was easy enough, sitting right on top of everything else. Pencils or pens, however, were less readily apparent. He started to carefully sort through her things, scanning between the rations, the first aid kit, her extra clothes, her - oh dear. Those were... those were polka dots, all right. R.J.'s cheeks went red as he proceeded to gently tuck those in a far corner under everything else. Just keep on looking, keep on looki- aha! Fresh, unopened package of pencils. He pulled one out, before taking a seat on a nearby stump and starting to write.
He knew what he wanted to tell her, but he had a bit more trouble knowing what to say. Obviously, a simple "Hey, I killed a girl" wouldn't exactly cut it. Then again, what could? He'd done the unthinkable, and he wouldn't blame Mary Ann if she never wanted to see him again. He had to try, though. He had to tell her what he'd done. Lying by omission was still lying.
"You know that I would do anything to see you go home safe, right?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
A sudden coldness came over Mary Ann as R.J. left her, even if only briefly. She wrapped her arms around herself as she silently watched him retrieve his bags, approaching him again when he returned to find the book. She started to reach out to find it herself- but he was already rummaging through the bag. Don't find don't find don't fi- crap. Seeming to know exactly what they were, he tucked them away quickly- but Mary Ann had caught him anyway. Oh well, not like he meant to. She knew better than to start a distracting argument when she wasn't even upset with him, especially right now- but that didn't stop the burning feeling that had spread across her face. Focus.
R.J. found what he was looking for and sat down with Mary Ann quickly following, tenderly resting her head against his leg as she kneeled on the ground next to the stump. She watched as letters, and then words appeared with the movement of his hand- YOU. KNOW... I know what? She suddenly remembered how much she hated being watched while writing. however, so she turned her head away until she felt him stop writing. What do I know?
After several minutes, he stopped, shining the unapologetic light over the page that suddenly held new information- You know that I would do anything to see you go home safe, right?
Mary Ann's stomach dropped- she didn't particularly know what that meant, but something in her mind assured her that it didn't mean anything good. Her face twisted into a judgemental wince before she regained control of it- after that, all she could do was slowly nod, waiting for new words to confirm her fears.
R.J. found what he was looking for and sat down with Mary Ann quickly following, tenderly resting her head against his leg as she kneeled on the ground next to the stump. She watched as letters, and then words appeared with the movement of his hand- YOU. KNOW... I know what? She suddenly remembered how much she hated being watched while writing. however, so she turned her head away until she felt him stop writing. What do I know?
After several minutes, he stopped, shining the unapologetic light over the page that suddenly held new information- You know that I would do anything to see you go home safe, right?
Mary Ann's stomach dropped- she didn't particularly know what that meant, but something in her mind assured her that it didn't mean anything good. Her face twisted into a judgemental wince before she regained control of it- after that, all she could do was slowly nod, waiting for new words to confirm her fears.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ella. 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.
She could tell. Shit. Was it that obvious? He wasn't about to lead off with the big reveal. He needed to ease her into it, so she could understand why what had happened had happened. That he knew he'd made a mistake. That it was safe for her to stay with him. That, frankly, he needed her to stay with him. That he had nothing else left to keep him from losing his mind, as far as he knew.
Gulp. He probably should keep that last part to himself, actually.
Still, this next one could take a minute.
"Then please, promise me you'll stay with me. Whatever happens, you're going home." You, not we. He wasn't going to promise her anything he only might deliver. He glanced around for cameras, pulling the notebook close as he wrote. "You, and anyone else we can help. I don't know how yet, but the means don't matter. Only the end. You'll see your family again. I promise you that. Just stay with me. Please."
He paused, before adding in one more sentence.
"I love you, and nothing that happens here will change that."
There were better times to let that out, but for all he knew, he'd never get another chance.
Gulp. He probably should keep that last part to himself, actually.
Still, this next one could take a minute.
"Then please, promise me you'll stay with me. Whatever happens, you're going home." You, not we. He wasn't going to promise her anything he only might deliver. He glanced around for cameras, pulling the notebook close as he wrote. "You, and anyone else we can help. I don't know how yet, but the means don't matter. Only the end. You'll see your family again. I promise you that. Just stay with me. Please."
He paused, before adding in one more sentence.
"I love you, and nothing that happens here will change that."
There were better times to let that out, but for all he knew, he'd never get another chance.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. 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.
Bam. Bam. And Bam.
Though not spoken, those words hit Mary Ann like cannonballs, one by one, each no less shocking than the one before it. Not necessarily painful the way a real cannonball would feel- just lots and lots of impact.
So many thoughts ricocheted through Mary Ann's mind like bullets on steel walls- it was too difficult, too dangerous to find just one and catch it. But damn if the poor girl didn't try anyway.
The most shocking part, it seemed, was how much trust and care he seemed- that he had invested in her. As much as she cared for R.J., Mary Ann knew how mortally expensive such trust was here. Maybe one would fuck around saying those sorts of things at home- but not here.
I love you.
That was something she'd only ever heard from parents and grandparents before- but of course, the context was gravely different here. So what did she say? She'd seen enough movies and sitcoms to know you have to respond to such a confession. But then again, this wasn't like those sorts of things you see on TV. Wait, no, this was EXACTLY the sort of thing you see on TV. Literally. But still. The genres didn't cross much. Or did they? She'd never watched this show before. Focus! Right.
So how would she answer? Obviously, the conventional answer would be to say she felt the same, as when her parents and grandparents said it. But did she feel the same? It didn't feel right to say that without meaning it after everything he'd just confided in her. What do I do what do I do what do I do... She looked back to their times at the simpler setting of Bayview Secondary School. All she had wanted at the time was a friend, someone to spend time and share thoughts with- and he had given her that without once being asked or instructed to. She smiled to herself, but quickly turned it back down when she remembered where she was. He certainly wasn't looking for a friend though. They had only just met when he asked her on their first date- not that she wasn't totally thrilled anyway. He was one of the first people who had ever taken any particular interest in her, romantic or otherwise- and the first she had given a chance to explore that interest. Besides, it was certainly clear by now that the feeling behind it was genuine.
So really, the complicated part was that her feelings for him held multiple facets. Before R.J., Mary Ann had never had a close friend, let alone any sort romantic attachment. In a lot of ways, she was as clueless when it came to matters of love as she was with matters of friendship- if not moreso. Actually, scratch that. Definitely moreso.
"I... um... well, I care about you a lot. That's for sure. But... well, I've never really loved before, so... well, I guess I don't know how yet. Or something." She felt that burning feeling in her face again. "I'm sorry."
But there were more important matters at hand- there was definitely a reason he was saying all of this. Though his words were sincere, there was no way in hell he could be saying all that because something good happened- obviously already a given considering the whole "you have a 274:275 chance of dying" thing, but still. Something morbid and ugly lurked behind the urgency of these words.
"But I will stay with you. I promise. I'm alone without you, and I've done more than enough being alone here."
And that settled it, really- she knew that regardless of her feelings, no one else was going to help her get through this like he would. What mattered now was the getting through this part.
Though not spoken, those words hit Mary Ann like cannonballs, one by one, each no less shocking than the one before it. Not necessarily painful the way a real cannonball would feel- just lots and lots of impact.
So many thoughts ricocheted through Mary Ann's mind like bullets on steel walls- it was too difficult, too dangerous to find just one and catch it. But damn if the poor girl didn't try anyway.
The most shocking part, it seemed, was how much trust and care he seemed- that he had invested in her. As much as she cared for R.J., Mary Ann knew how mortally expensive such trust was here. Maybe one would fuck around saying those sorts of things at home- but not here.
I love you.
That was something she'd only ever heard from parents and grandparents before- but of course, the context was gravely different here. So what did she say? She'd seen enough movies and sitcoms to know you have to respond to such a confession. But then again, this wasn't like those sorts of things you see on TV. Wait, no, this was EXACTLY the sort of thing you see on TV. Literally. But still. The genres didn't cross much. Or did they? She'd never watched this show before. Focus! Right.
So how would she answer? Obviously, the conventional answer would be to say she felt the same, as when her parents and grandparents said it. But did she feel the same? It didn't feel right to say that without meaning it after everything he'd just confided in her. What do I do what do I do what do I do... She looked back to their times at the simpler setting of Bayview Secondary School. All she had wanted at the time was a friend, someone to spend time and share thoughts with- and he had given her that without once being asked or instructed to. She smiled to herself, but quickly turned it back down when she remembered where she was. He certainly wasn't looking for a friend though. They had only just met when he asked her on their first date- not that she wasn't totally thrilled anyway. He was one of the first people who had ever taken any particular interest in her, romantic or otherwise- and the first she had given a chance to explore that interest. Besides, it was certainly clear by now that the feeling behind it was genuine.
So really, the complicated part was that her feelings for him held multiple facets. Before R.J., Mary Ann had never had a close friend, let alone any sort romantic attachment. In a lot of ways, she was as clueless when it came to matters of love as she was with matters of friendship- if not moreso. Actually, scratch that. Definitely moreso.
"I... um... well, I care about you a lot. That's for sure. But... well, I've never really loved before, so... well, I guess I don't know how yet. Or something." She felt that burning feeling in her face again. "I'm sorry."
But there were more important matters at hand- there was definitely a reason he was saying all of this. Though his words were sincere, there was no way in hell he could be saying all that because something good happened- obviously already a given considering the whole "you have a 274:275 chance of dying" thing, but still. Something morbid and ugly lurked behind the urgency of these words.
"But I will stay with you. I promise. I'm alone without you, and I've done more than enough being alone here."
And that settled it, really- she knew that regardless of her feelings, no one else was going to help her get through this like he would. What mattered now was the getting through this part.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ella. 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, he couldn't say he'd expected that answer. He hadn't expected any answer in particular, so whatever she'd said, even nothing at all, would have caught him off guard. But realistically, this was pretty much exactly what he should've seen coming, and as he thought about her answer in the ensuing silence, that much became clear to him. They'd only been seeing each other - if you could even call it that - since February. Saturday, February 23rd, to be exact. He'd have laughed at that in any other situation. Remembering the anniversary of their first date, him, of all people, and she probably didn't think of them as dating. It'd been months and they'd never actually slept together, so maybe it was a fair assumption on her part. Still, he'd dated his share throughout high school, and this was the first time he'd said those words to anyone outside his family, insomuch as he could say them. Like he thought when they talked for the first time that day in the library, there was something special about her. Maybe this was it.
Whatever. He didn't need her to reciprocate. Just to know what he felt. He smiled back, albeit a bit weakly.
"That's fine. Just being able to tell you is all I need. That you'd stay is more than I could've hoped for."
There was a pause. He was avoiding the primary issue. Eva.
"There's something else, something you deserve to hear from me, rather than when it's announced in the morning. I owe you that much."
Whatever. He didn't need her to reciprocate. Just to know what he felt. He smiled back, albeit a bit weakly.
"That's fine. Just being able to tell you is all I need. That you'd stay is more than I could've hoped for."
There was a pause. He was avoiding the primary issue. Eva.
"There's something else, something you deserve to hear from me, rather than when it's announced in the morning. I owe you that much."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. 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.
"That's fine. Just being able to tell you is all I need. That you'd stay is more than I could've hoped for."
That was reassuring. Mary Ann wasn't surprised, really It was just like him to be a gentleman, always patient and forgiving of her inexperience; especially useful now that she knew she wouldn't be getting much more experience with this sort of thing in her life- Don't think that way. He's promising to help you out of here, so the least you can do is match that confidence. Yes. There would be more movie theatres. There would be more motorcycle rides.
The next piece of information was more urgent, but not necessarily unexpected given the context. ...rather than when it's announced in the morning. Now those words worried her. Thousands of gruesome images rose in her mind; and despite attempts to sweep them away with optimism, she knew that whatever he said next, it would have the most dangerous impact of anything expressed during this conversation. Remaining close, she braced herself.
"Go on. I'm ready to hear it."
That was reassuring. Mary Ann wasn't surprised, really It was just like him to be a gentleman, always patient and forgiving of her inexperience; especially useful now that she knew she wouldn't be getting much more experience with this sort of thing in her life- Don't think that way. He's promising to help you out of here, so the least you can do is match that confidence. Yes. There would be more movie theatres. There would be more motorcycle rides.
The next piece of information was more urgent, but not necessarily unexpected given the context. ...rather than when it's announced in the morning. Now those words worried her. Thousands of gruesome images rose in her mind; and despite attempts to sweep them away with optimism, she knew that whatever he said next, it would have the most dangerous impact of anything expressed during this conversation. Remaining close, she braced herself.
"Go on. I'm ready to hear it."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ella. 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.
He already knew where he was going with this. He had to. He'd already opened the door.
"Her name was Eva. I was with a group when we were shot at with a crossbow. No one was hit, but I panicked, and shot back. I didn't miss." He sighed. It was obvious he was ready to cry again, but by now, the tears had dried up. "Looking back, she probably wasn't a real threat. She seemed just as scared as I was. I just made a stupid mistake, and someone's dead because of it. The Lancasters will never see their daughter again, and it's my fault." Again, a pause before the last couple of sentences. "I don't expect you to forgive me, and I won't blame you if you change your mind about staying. I don't deserve any sort of sympathy."
While it was true that he didn't expect her to stay by his side, he knew she was the only thing anchoring him right now. He knew that if she did leave, things would only get worse. His temper never was one of his best qualities, and he'd killed once already. For all he knew, she was the only thing standing in the way of him going the way of Reiko Ishida or Alex Rasputin. Before he'd come across her, he was already on his way there, had he run into Staffan Kronwall first. Already out for revenge. Already just like Kris. Mary Ann didn't need to see him like that. She deserved better. She deserved to be at home, with her family, maybe a nice guy, someone better for her than he'd ever be. The need to protect her was the only thing that tethered him to the morality he'd held dear only days ago, and he knew it.
He needed her.
"Her name was Eva. I was with a group when we were shot at with a crossbow. No one was hit, but I panicked, and shot back. I didn't miss." He sighed. It was obvious he was ready to cry again, but by now, the tears had dried up. "Looking back, she probably wasn't a real threat. She seemed just as scared as I was. I just made a stupid mistake, and someone's dead because of it. The Lancasters will never see their daughter again, and it's my fault." Again, a pause before the last couple of sentences. "I don't expect you to forgive me, and I won't blame you if you change your mind about staying. I don't deserve any sort of sympathy."
While it was true that he didn't expect her to stay by his side, he knew she was the only thing anchoring him right now. He knew that if she did leave, things would only get worse. His temper never was one of his best qualities, and he'd killed once already. For all he knew, she was the only thing standing in the way of him going the way of Reiko Ishida or Alex Rasputin. Before he'd come across her, he was already on his way there, had he run into Staffan Kronwall first. Already out for revenge. Already just like Kris. Mary Ann didn't need to see him like that. She deserved better. She deserved to be at home, with her family, maybe a nice guy, someone better for her than he'd ever be. The need to protect her was the only thing that tethered him to the morality he'd held dear only days ago, and he knew it.
He needed her.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. 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.
He killed someone. Approximately forty dead. More to die in the coming days.
We are responsible for one of them.
A wave of numbness had washed over Mary Ann's entire body, leaving her blank and alone with her thoughts.
What does this mean?
He was a killer when he held me. He was a killer when he promised to take me away from here safely. When he told me he loved me.
He became a killer before I could ever have hoped for a chance to find him. And he will be a killer when we leave.
This is the truth, and nothing can change it.
But the other person- She looked at the page to check- Eva- she shot first, right? That's self-defense, even in the real world he wouldn't be... but it's still killing. It's wrong.
But not here.
Was this what those forty children had thought of as their breaths grew scarce and their last grains of sand slipped through the cracks? Mary Ann rubbed her temples in an attempt to bring her mind further into reality, but she still didn't know how to react. She didn't want to cry, or scream, or stomp her feet- what would even come of it if she did?
She noticed that R.J. still looked at her, waiting for a response- and that was what finally convinced her body to release several streams of tears, shamelessly leaving damp trails on her face.
"I-" She became self-conscious once again at the sound of her voice breaking- "I'm still too scared of being alone to leave... I just wish it didn't have to be like this, you know?"
She buried her face in his leg, once again allowing herself to cry without restraint. During those miniscule morning hours, the only sound that could be heard in that barren field of stumps was that of Mary Ann's futile sobs.
We are responsible for one of them.
A wave of numbness had washed over Mary Ann's entire body, leaving her blank and alone with her thoughts.
What does this mean?
He was a killer when he held me. He was a killer when he promised to take me away from here safely. When he told me he loved me.
He became a killer before I could ever have hoped for a chance to find him. And he will be a killer when we leave.
This is the truth, and nothing can change it.
But the other person- She looked at the page to check- Eva- she shot first, right? That's self-defense, even in the real world he wouldn't be... but it's still killing. It's wrong.
But not here.
Was this what those forty children had thought of as their breaths grew scarce and their last grains of sand slipped through the cracks? Mary Ann rubbed her temples in an attempt to bring her mind further into reality, but she still didn't know how to react. She didn't want to cry, or scream, or stomp her feet- what would even come of it if she did?
She noticed that R.J. still looked at her, waiting for a response- and that was what finally convinced her body to release several streams of tears, shamelessly leaving damp trails on her face.
"I-" She became self-conscious once again at the sound of her voice breaking- "I'm still too scared of being alone to leave... I just wish it didn't have to be like this, you know?"
She buried her face in his leg, once again allowing herself to cry without restraint. During those miniscule morning hours, the only sound that could be heard in that barren field of stumps was that of Mary Ann's futile sobs.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ella. 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.
That voice again. That smug, self-satisfied voice that R.J. had come to hate in so short a time. What he wouldn't give to put that bastard on his level, rip his vocal chords out of his throat with his bare hands.
Yeah, always the goddamn quiet ones. Eva, meanwhile, barely warranted a passing mention. A person, with a family that would never see her again, who was cut down vastly before her time, and she was just another number to this douchecannon.
Twenty-one more dead. Steve Barnes, another teammate, among them. Beheaded. Was that even possible in self defense? More killers, too. Some of the same killers, even. Reiko Ishida, who R.J. could've snapped like a twig, was now a murderer four times over. Rachel Gettys, evangelical Christian. He didn't know her personally, just knew of her. Most people did. She'd killed too. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. Suffer not the unclean to live, right? Seemed like just about her approach to religion. He couldn't stand people like that. People who'd twist religion, especially his, into something that promoted intolerance to serve their own little agendas. Far as he was concerned, that was the ultimate form of blasphemy.
Eve Walker-Luther. Definitely not someone he knew personally, but he remembered when she'd gotten pregnant. Not something you don't notice, after all. And this asshole had the gall to mock some little girl who'd grow up without a mother. Now that made him seethe. And even still, for all the names he couldn't put faces to, they were still people he'd passed in the halls every day, people he knew, whether he really thought of them that way or not. Forty of them were dead now, more still were murderers, himself included. Whether he delivered on his promise or not, things could never go back to the way they were. Dead or no, their lives were already over.
It made him sick. He could just taste the bile lingering in the back of his mouth.
"I..."
But he couldn't let it get to him. None of it. For Mary Ann's sake, he had to stay strong.
"I'm still too scared of being alone to leave... I just wish it didn't have to be like this, you know?"
I know. Better than I hope you ever have to understand.
Gently, he placed a hand on her head, slowly running it through her hair, hoping that simple act of compassion could reassure her at least somewhat. In a way, he hoped that moment would never end, just the two of them, together, holding each other close.
In a much bigger, much more dire way, it couldn't end soon enough. They had to find a way home.
Together.
You don't have to be scared. You don't have to be alone ever again.
Yeah, always the goddamn quiet ones. Eva, meanwhile, barely warranted a passing mention. A person, with a family that would never see her again, who was cut down vastly before her time, and she was just another number to this douchecannon.
Twenty-one more dead. Steve Barnes, another teammate, among them. Beheaded. Was that even possible in self defense? More killers, too. Some of the same killers, even. Reiko Ishida, who R.J. could've snapped like a twig, was now a murderer four times over. Rachel Gettys, evangelical Christian. He didn't know her personally, just knew of her. Most people did. She'd killed too. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. Suffer not the unclean to live, right? Seemed like just about her approach to religion. He couldn't stand people like that. People who'd twist religion, especially his, into something that promoted intolerance to serve their own little agendas. Far as he was concerned, that was the ultimate form of blasphemy.
Eve Walker-Luther. Definitely not someone he knew personally, but he remembered when she'd gotten pregnant. Not something you don't notice, after all. And this asshole had the gall to mock some little girl who'd grow up without a mother. Now that made him seethe. And even still, for all the names he couldn't put faces to, they were still people he'd passed in the halls every day, people he knew, whether he really thought of them that way or not. Forty of them were dead now, more still were murderers, himself included. Whether he delivered on his promise or not, things could never go back to the way they were. Dead or no, their lives were already over.
It made him sick. He could just taste the bile lingering in the back of his mouth.
"I..."
But he couldn't let it get to him. None of it. For Mary Ann's sake, he had to stay strong.
"I'm still too scared of being alone to leave... I just wish it didn't have to be like this, you know?"
I know. Better than I hope you ever have to understand.
Gently, he placed a hand on her head, slowly running it through her hair, hoping that simple act of compassion could reassure her at least somewhat. In a way, he hoped that moment would never end, just the two of them, together, holding each other close.
In a much bigger, much more dire way, it couldn't end soon enough. They had to find a way home.
Together.
You don't have to be scared. You don't have to be alone ever again.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Stark. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
A crackle emerges from the darkness, followed by a dreaded but all-too-familiar voice.
"Do you kids know what makes Uncle Danya happy?"
What... no... go away.
The second day of our little competition saw twenty-one students bite the dust.
Twenty-one.
You know what that makes total? Forty dead.
Forty dead. Could've been thirty-eight if you'd bothered to do anything, huh?
Invisible walls emerge, covered in blood.
Forty dead, child. And you're next-
Mary Ann awoke with a start to find herself alone and surrounded by stumps. It was light out- Jeez, when did I fall asleep? Her senses returned, along with a cramp in her neck, which she rubbed gingerly with the palm of her hand-
Paper.
A piece of paper sat on the stump where she remembered her companion should have been.
"Dawne Jiang, Rose Codreanu, Tobias Elwin and Raina Morales- BY REIKO... Eva Lancaster..."
It took Mary Ann a full ten seconds to realize these were the names of the recently deceased. So she must have been the one... A chill made its way through her body, making her limbs shake as she counted the names.
Twenty-one new deaths. For a split second, Mary Ann found herself excited for predicting correctly- but crushing shame immediately punished her. Must've jinxed it or something. Though she knew that couldn't be the case, she decided not to use math for a whil- rustling.
She turned around to find RJ on another nearby stump, a map spread across his lap- noticing that she'd awoken, he waved.
She took the invitation and approached with a bittersweet smile. "Morning." She noticed both of their bags several feet away, neatly packed with their weapons sitting almost innocently on the packs of their respective owners.
"Guess we can't squat here forever, huh?" She kneeled behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder to view the map. "I think we're right around... here." She pointed towards the north of the map, and then motioned the area around it- "I've already been around here a couple times... I've just been kind of wandering."
"Do you kids know what makes Uncle Danya happy?"
What... no... go away.
The second day of our little competition saw twenty-one students bite the dust.
Twenty-one.
You know what that makes total? Forty dead.
Forty dead. Could've been thirty-eight if you'd bothered to do anything, huh?
Invisible walls emerge, covered in blood.
Forty dead, child. And you're next-
Mary Ann awoke with a start to find herself alone and surrounded by stumps. It was light out- Jeez, when did I fall asleep? Her senses returned, along with a cramp in her neck, which she rubbed gingerly with the palm of her hand-
Paper.
A piece of paper sat on the stump where she remembered her companion should have been.
"Dawne Jiang, Rose Codreanu, Tobias Elwin and Raina Morales- BY REIKO... Eva Lancaster..."
It took Mary Ann a full ten seconds to realize these were the names of the recently deceased. So she must have been the one... A chill made its way through her body, making her limbs shake as she counted the names.
Twenty-one new deaths. For a split second, Mary Ann found herself excited for predicting correctly- but crushing shame immediately punished her. Must've jinxed it or something. Though she knew that couldn't be the case, she decided not to use math for a whil- rustling.
She turned around to find RJ on another nearby stump, a map spread across his lap- noticing that she'd awoken, he waved.
She took the invitation and approached with a bittersweet smile. "Morning." She noticed both of their bags several feet away, neatly packed with their weapons sitting almost innocently on the packs of their respective owners.
"Guess we can't squat here forever, huh?" She kneeled behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder to view the map. "I think we're right around... here." She pointed towards the north of the map, and then motioned the area around it- "I've already been around here a couple times... I've just been kind of wandering."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ella. 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.