She said he didn't know her friend. Maybe she was right. Quincy didn't know much of anything, these days. Never had, maybe. Sure didn't know how to play people. All he'd wanted were some answers. All he'd wanted was to make sense of his life, figure out just what had gone sideways way back when. No luck, though. No luck with anything.
Ah well. He'd tried, right? Made it damn far, too. Made his mistakes, but so did everyone.
She was waiting. He didn't know what for. Didn't care.
As her finger started to tighten, he closed his eyes.
B030, Quincy Jones: DECEASED
Never To Be Found
The bullet from Aston's Bersa tore through Quincy's head at supersonic speeds, tearing flesh, bone, and brain and creating a small hole where half of his nose used to be. His corpse jerked upwards a bit and then settled down, the head tilting to the right and pouring a large pool of blood from the wound and Quincy's remaining nostril.
Dead silence. Joe put pressure on the grazing wound he'd gotten from Quincy's Mosin-Nagant and looked back at Aston.
"Back in a sec. Need to put this away," he said, gesturing with the rifle that he had used to lay Quincy out flat as he walked over towards his daypack, opened it up, and put it in. It fit nicely with the other oversized weapons Joe was holding onto; they suited him well with their bulk, certainly far better than they would suit Aston or Alice.
He hefted the daypack up with one arm, the other still clutching his throbbing side, and walked the short distance back over to Aston. He gestured to the small wound.
"I need to patch this up real quick before we do anything else, keep it from getting infected. That alright with you?" he asked. He almost knew the answer would be a yes, since Aston had just completed her most pressing goal, but it was worth asking anyways as a courtesy.
Dead silence. Joe put pressure on the grazing wound he'd gotten from Quincy's Mosin-Nagant and looked back at Aston.
"Back in a sec. Need to put this away," he said, gesturing with the rifle that he had used to lay Quincy out flat as he walked over towards his daypack, opened it up, and put it in. It fit nicely with the other oversized weapons Joe was holding onto; they suited him well with their bulk, certainly far better than they would suit Aston or Alice.
He hefted the daypack up with one arm, the other still clutching his throbbing side, and walked the short distance back over to Aston. He gestured to the small wound.
"I need to patch this up real quick before we do anything else, keep it from getting infected. That alright with you?" he asked. He almost knew the answer would be a yes, since Aston had just completed her most pressing goal, but it was worth asking anyways as a courtesy.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Sean. 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.
It was over.
All the air from Aston's lungs seemed absent. She had a hollow feeling in her chest, one that she couldn't identify. She told herself that it wasn't guilt. Aston was not convinced.
The gun dangled from her hand, and her arm dangled at her side. Now that Quincy was dead, the weight of the damn thing increased. Made it almost impossible to keep holding onto it.
She had killed someone. A rat, yes, but he was human.
So maybe she was feeling some sort of guilt. She tried to tell herself otherwise.
Joe asked her something. She didn't turn to look at him. She kept staring at the corpse.
It took her a long time to come up with her response.
There was nothing else left but herself. No reasons to live. No revenge. Just life. Her life. It was on the line. Nothing else she needed to be worried about.
And Joe... Joe was about the only person she could trust now. That she would trust.
She wanted to live. She wanted Joe to live.
When Aston finally answered, it was stained with hesitation.
"Okay. That's fine." A pause. "Need me to move anywhere?"
All the air from Aston's lungs seemed absent. She had a hollow feeling in her chest, one that she couldn't identify. She told herself that it wasn't guilt. Aston was not convinced.
The gun dangled from her hand, and her arm dangled at her side. Now that Quincy was dead, the weight of the damn thing increased. Made it almost impossible to keep holding onto it.
She had killed someone. A rat, yes, but he was human.
So maybe she was feeling some sort of guilt. She tried to tell herself otherwise.
Joe asked her something. She didn't turn to look at him. She kept staring at the corpse.
It took her a long time to come up with her response.
There was nothing else left but herself. No reasons to live. No revenge. Just life. Her life. It was on the line. Nothing else she needed to be worried about.
And Joe... Joe was about the only person she could trust now. That she would trust.
She wanted to live. She wanted Joe to live.
When Aston finally answered, it was stained with hesitation.
"Okay. That's fine." A pause. "Need me to move anywhere?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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.
"Nah, you're fine," he said. It was kind of awkward doing this next to the still-warm corpse of a guy that he'd just been party to the murder of, but Joe was honestly lacking in other options. He sat down, set his daypack next to him, unzipped it, took out the first aid kit, and opened it.
He began rummaging around for the hydrogen peroxide. He knew there had been some in there, he'd used it to patch up Cisco's cuts early on, and after a bit of looking he found it and a cotton ball.
Joe lifted his arms up and removed his shirt, then opened the small bottle of antiseptic, held the cotton ball against it, then turned it upside down. After a couple of seconds he rotated it again, removed the cotton ball, and swabbed his side where the bullet had grazed him. The sudden pain made him wince, but he kept going; an infection would feel much worse. He then took out a fairly large roll of cloth bandages, wrapped it around his lower torso covering the graze three times, and tore the segment he was using off. Holding the end to his stomach with one hand, he reached into the first-aid kit with the other, took out a small roll of first-aid tape, pulled a long piece off, and attached the bandage to his body firmly. His work done, he put everything back in the first-aid kit, put it back in his daypack, and looked at Aston.
"Hey, you mind if I leave my shirt off? It's pretty hot out here and I'm starting to regret keeping the black shirt," he asked. Joe paused. He'd dumped most of his extra clothes earlier on, only keeping another pair of pants, his jacket, and his boxers, to make room for his growing assortment of weapons; it wasn't a great idea, but he'd live.
"I mean, if it doesn't make you uncomfortable or anything," he added, quieter.
He began rummaging around for the hydrogen peroxide. He knew there had been some in there, he'd used it to patch up Cisco's cuts early on, and after a bit of looking he found it and a cotton ball.
Joe lifted his arms up and removed his shirt, then opened the small bottle of antiseptic, held the cotton ball against it, then turned it upside down. After a couple of seconds he rotated it again, removed the cotton ball, and swabbed his side where the bullet had grazed him. The sudden pain made him wince, but he kept going; an infection would feel much worse. He then took out a fairly large roll of cloth bandages, wrapped it around his lower torso covering the graze three times, and tore the segment he was using off. Holding the end to his stomach with one hand, he reached into the first-aid kit with the other, took out a small roll of first-aid tape, pulled a long piece off, and attached the bandage to his body firmly. His work done, he put everything back in the first-aid kit, put it back in his daypack, and looked at Aston.
"Hey, you mind if I leave my shirt off? It's pretty hot out here and I'm starting to regret keeping the black shirt," he asked. Joe paused. He'd dumped most of his extra clothes earlier on, only keeping another pair of pants, his jacket, and his boxers, to make room for his growing assortment of weapons; it wasn't a great idea, but he'd live.
"I mean, if it doesn't make you uncomfortable or anything," he added, quieter.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Sean. 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.
Joe wanted to keep. It didn't bother Aston. Even if she had any capacity to feel nervous about a shirtless boy being in the same room as her, she had things on her mind that she couldn't shake.
That was when the announcement came.
Alice.
Aston was conflicted. She started talking without thinking.
"I'm going to promise you something Joe. And I hope you'll promise the same."
A breath.
"You and me. We're getting to the end, together. I don't want to go alone. And you're the only one I have left."
A pause, to gather her thoughts.
"Doesn't matter what we do when we're the last ones. We'll figure that out when it comes. All I want is to live, and I want you to come with me."
Aston trailed off. She didn't like talking too much. She kept the rest of it short, staring at Joe. She tried not to show the pounding in her head, or the crack in her heart.
"Partners. Until the end. You in?"
That was when the announcement came.
Alice.
Aston was conflicted. She started talking without thinking.
"I'm going to promise you something Joe. And I hope you'll promise the same."
A breath.
"You and me. We're getting to the end, together. I don't want to go alone. And you're the only one I have left."
A pause, to gather her thoughts.
"Doesn't matter what we do when we're the last ones. We'll figure that out when it comes. All I want is to live, and I want you to come with me."
Aston trailed off. She didn't like talking too much. She kept the rest of it short, staring at Joe. She tried not to show the pounding in her head, or the crack in her heart.
"Partners. Until the end. You in?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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.
Joe chuckled a bit.
"Of course I'm in, Aston," he said, smiling. "You can rest assured of that. We're in this together until the end, whenever that is."
He sighed. The announcement had confirmed Alice was dead, her death removing any possibility of revenge at that, so it had been tough to muster up that happiness. He was starting to lose his resolve again, now that it was close to the end... but now wasn't the time to doubt himself.
"So, what's the plan now?" he asked her.
"Of course I'm in, Aston," he said, smiling. "You can rest assured of that. We're in this together until the end, whenever that is."
He sighed. The announcement had confirmed Alice was dead, her death removing any possibility of revenge at that, so it had been tough to muster up that happiness. He was starting to lose his resolve again, now that it was close to the end... but now wasn't the time to doubt himself.
"So, what's the plan now?" he asked her.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Sean. 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.
(Ugh, I'm so so sorry Sean. ; ; )
Joe asked her what the plan was. Aston blinked. She thought.
"I don't know."
Aston was unsure. And even though she felt no guilt about it, the dead body in the room was twisting her arm.
"I don't want to stay here. I think we should leave."
She picked up her bag, gathered her things and nodded at Joe.
"We can come up with a plan then. Okay with you?"
(Aston continued in Out of Sight, Out of Mind.)
Joe asked her what the plan was. Aston blinked. She thought.
"I don't know."
Aston was unsure. And even though she felt no guilt about it, the dead body in the room was twisting her arm.
"I don't want to stay here. I think we should leave."
She picked up her bag, gathered her things and nodded at Joe.
"We can come up with a plan then. Okay with you?"
(Aston continued in Out of Sight, Out of Mind.)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Ciel. 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.
"Alright," Joe said. He got up, shouldered his bag, and walked off, following Aston.
I've finally got something to live for.
Something to kill for.
Something to die for.
((Joe Rios continued in Out of Sight, Out of Mind))
I've finally got something to live for.
Something to kill for.
Something to die for.
((Joe Rios continued in Out of Sight, Out of Mind))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Sean. 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.