She Bopped

[D/N]

(Carly Jean Dooley continued from Late Dawns and Early Sunsets)

"To wrap things up, Lucas Lupradio boarded the boat to failville after..."

Carly breathed out, relieved. Another day was over and done with (and just HOW many kids were out here, anyway?) and she was still alive. And from those announcements, so was George. Good. She wasn't going to let him die without finding him and reattaching herself to him. Not that she wasn't doing OK with Jasper, but she at least wanted to SEE George again, whatever happened.

She'd left Jasper back at the campsite they'd made after taking off from Jimmy, wanting to get at least SOME alone time before they decided whatever the hell they were going to do today. Of course, she still got that shaking feeling in her knees when she was out of his sight, and his gun, but damnit Carly Jean Dooley, you are NOT going to go back to that quivering little wreck you were and you need to prove to yourself that you are STRONG! Right? Right! Wasn't she still feeling strangely giddy from having kicked that asshole Jimmy Brennan in the balls last night? She was! And if he came back she'd just... kick him in the balls again! Carly Jean Dooley doesn't fear, because her power of KICKING ASSHOLES IN THE BALLS was here!

"You hear that Jimmy Brennan! Come back and I'll kick you in the balls again!"

Carly broke out into laughter. Oh gawd. Was she cracking up here? Well, whatever. Who cared whether you cracked up a little when you were on an island and ordered to kill all the people you went to school with, huh? HUH? That question just made her laugh harder, and she actually had to stop walking for a moment to get herself under control. Oh gawd again. If only the girls back home could see her now.

Of course, they could see her now, couldn't they? Carly looked out at the rising sun, wondering. Hey, maybe Alice and Jooli and Elaine were all back home, rooting for her to win. That'd be like them, actually. Alice would coordinate SOTF-watching parties and keep everyone's spirits up.

"You girls watching? You're a bunch of lucky skanks, you know? I should've stayed back a year!" She chuckled one more time and shook her head.

Actually, now that she looked at it, the sun out here was pretty nice to look at after all. She'd have to tell Jasper that when she got back to him. She should probably go soon anyway, she'd climbed all the way to the top of this hillside to look around but there was no sign of George out here.

Her stomach rumbled, and Carly realized that she hadn't eaten anything yet today. Ugh. Her mood faded again. Did she want some stupid crackers or some crusty bread for her breakfast? Big choice. Breakfast was supposed to be GOOD stuff, like milk and cereal or sometimes pancakes, even if they were the crappy frozen ones when it was a school day and you obviously weren't going to cook anything in the morning. Pancakes and syrup, and butter. If she'd had some butter maybe even this bread would taste better, but did she? Noooooooo.

Screw the bread, she'd have the crackers today.

She reached into her bag and grabbed for the tin, only to feel something else. The hell? She pulled it out.

Oh, that stupid vase. She'd totally forgotten that she'd been lugging it around all this time. Why had she kept it, anyway? She supposed she thought at first it might have some significance, but what the hell could a vase have to do with this terrorist thing? She knew that people got goofy weapons like plastic forks and stuff, but a vase was a pretty stupid idea of a joke if you asked her. Maybe they'd just run out of stuff to give to students and were grabbing things of Danya's living room or something. Well, whatever. She dropped the vase on the ground and settled in to her meal of crackers, telling herself that they were actually tiny delicious pancakes.

When she'd finished, she stood up and looked down the hillside again. More trees, more stumps, still nothing else interesting. About time she got back to Jasper, she guessed.

Then, as Carly bent over to pick up her bag, a flash of movement at the bottom of the hill caught her eye. She turned, not expecting much. OK, it was just some guy, it was--

"Hey! HEEEEEYYY! GEORGE! It's Carly! I'm up here!"

Carly did a series of little jumps and waved her arms, a real smile breaking out on her face. It WAS George again, and this time she wouldn't let the dummy get away from her. All she had to do was wait until he made his way around and up to where she was, and everything would be just fine.

[Super Llama†]

{{continued from Cleanliness and Lonliness}}

ಠ_ಠ

That was the exact expression on Sebastian's face as he turned the corner and saw Carly at the bottom of the hill, calling out to some guy named George in his direction. Oh, this was just fucking great. Out of all the people he had to run into on the island, out of all the killers, psychopaths, rapists, and a goddamn bear; out of EVERYONE, it had to be fucking Carly, the bitch who got him suspended. He still remembered the people talking about him behind his back, about the guy who punched a girl in the face during class. Jesus Christ he had never been more humiliated in all his life, and to pour salt on the wound, she'd gotten away with destroying that painting of his as well.

Sebastian could feel the anger, the indignation welling up inside him. It was almost fitting that she wind up stuck here to die with the rest of them. In fact, if there was one person on this island he wouldn't mind killing, it'd probably be this bitch.

Sebastian shook his head, trying to dispel the anger. No, he was not going to kill anybody. He was not going to go and make himself a target, and certainly not for this bitch. Just turn around and walk up the hill, and out of here. Somebody else will get the kill, and he won't have to worry about turning up on the anno-

His foot slipped, and he lost his balance, tumbling down the hill.

NO. NO, WHAT THE HELL? THIS WAS NOT GOING UP THE HILL. THIS WAS MAKING NEGATIVE PROGRESS UP THE HILL.

He finally came to a stop right in front of Carly, the piece of driftwood and daypack lying just out of reach. Looking up at her, he had only one thing to say.

"Ow."

[D/N]

The crashing sound above her broke Carly's mood and concentration quite easily, and she turned around just in time to see a male figure tumbling down in her direction. What. The. Hell.

It was SEBASTIAN.

Sebastian Decartes. The asshole king of all assholes at Bayview Secondary. She'd totally forgotten that George had told he was on this island with them. For a second she wanted to turn and run in the direction she'd seen George. It would be safe. It would be the old "Scaredy-Cat Carly", probably exactly what Sebastian would expect. He'd expect her to just run off or cry or beg and FUCK THAT SHIT. This was "Kick Assholes in the Balls" Carly Jean Dooley. What was he going to do, give her a little girly slap like he'd done in school before prom? Ha! She could take that. She could take anything.

So instead she stepped forward and shoved at him.

"Ow? Ow? Fuck you, Sebastian Decartes. Why the hell did you even go on this trip? You get AWAY from me!"

[blastinus]

(George Leidman continued from The Moon is Laughing At You)

George was amazed that he could run for so long, excepting a few breaks for rest. He'd never had to really get into his upper limits of strength before, and it was a liberating feeling, in a sense. Granted, he would have preferred to never have to tax himself for so long, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter, did he?

However amazing he was, he was still human, and as he once again slowed to a halt next to a hill, he decided that enough was enough for now. Seating himself against the hill, he realized that there was some sort of jabbing pain in his right foot, and he pulled off his sneaker to investigate. It was just a couple pebbles. Honestly, the funk coming off of his utterly worn socks would have been a larger threat to his life.

George was on the verge of packing up and moving onward when he heard something that sounded like someone shouting his name. Turning around to look where the noise came from, he dropped his sneaker in shock. "C-Carly? CARLY!" he shouted back, hastily jamming his sneaker back on his foot, laces untied. As he began to scramble up the hill, however, someone higher up suddenly dislodged a number of pebbles as he fell down the hill a short distance, dropping them all over the junior archeologist. As he cleared his eyes, he saw that somebody else was up there, someone also very familiar.

"Sebastian, you bastard!" he shouted, catching himself on the hillside as his sneaker suddenly slipped off and rolled back to the bottom. "Don't you dare do a thing to her!" Planting his unprotected foot in the hill, he winced as he stepped right on another rock, but he didn't care. He was going to find his way up this hill somehow.

I swear, if he touches her, he is going straight down this hill on his head.

[Super Llama†]

Carly just said her first words to him since the two of them ended up on the island, and already she was pissing him off. It's not like he wanted to. His mom decided this was his punishment for getting himself suspended. Sebastian wondered for a moment how her mom felt now, knowing she punished her son by sending him off to almost certain death.

And then she shoved him, and he nearly fell over a second time, the rage and indignation starting to boil over, every fucking word that spewed out of this bitches mouth only serving to make her more and more pissed off. Who the fuck did she think she was? She goes and wrecks people's property, something they spent countless days working on, and she acts like SHE'S the victim here? What a load of shit.

Oh, and here comes some other asshole, singing her praises and trying to save poor innocent Carly from the big bad Sebastian. Well fine. If she wants to play victim so bad, why doesn't he play his part and give her a few bruises go with it?

Sebastian wasn't even thinking straight anymore. Any thoughts he had before about not playing and not getting the word spread that he was some kind of psycho killer were pushed to the wayside. Right now, that punch that got him suspended just wasn't enough anymore. Reaching down, he snatched up the piece of driftwood and swung it wildly in his direction, over and over, at least one blow specifically aimed at her face. After he'd given Carly enough of a thrashing he'd give her a nice off the hill and send her rolling down to her fucking knight in shining armor and then Carly can go "Boo hoo Sebastian was completely unprovoked I didn't do anything wrong." or some shit and they can all go their merry fucking way.

[Hollyquin†]

[[Jasper-Declan MacDermott continued from Late Dawns & Early Sunsets]]

Jasper-Declan was alone.

Again.

Well, he wasn't precisely alone. Well, he was, technically, but he wasn't alone in a permanent-for-the-foreseeable-future sort of way. It was like being left home alone with your parents and siblings away- you knew they'd come home sooner or later, and though you were alone in that moment in time, soon enough there'd be company. Except that he was never going to see his parents or siblings again.

He never really liked metaphors, anyway. Or similes, as he supposed this one was.

Ah, well...

Carly had left him for the time being, saying she needed some time on her own, and Jasper-Declan was the last person to disapprove of that. In fact, he was glad to have some alone time for himself. He felt almost hypocritical of his own feelings- first he'd wanted to be alone, then he'd desperately wanted to find a group to stave off loneliness. And now he wanted to be alone, yet again. Do the others feel this way? This incredible urge for company, and yet a still present desire for solitude? Is that normal?

What is normal?

And so he drifted farther and farther off, as he was wont to do.


...


Time passed.

He wasn't bored. Jasper-Declan didn't get bored. It was impossible to be bored when you could easily fascinate yourself with the facets of a single fallen leaf, as he could and had done. He was, however, lonely, and slightly worried. The worry surprised him- there was no reason for it, as he barely knew this girl- but it manifested itself nonetheless.

Perhaps I should go after her?

Considering our present location (that is, this island, not where we are at this particular moment...I am unsure as to where that is, precisely) there is a fairly high likelihood that she has gotten into some sort of trouble. Considering Carly's general disposition and...volume...the likelihood seems a bit higher.

It is strange, how...how this island can so dramatically change a person, in so short a span of time. I have been alive for eighteen years and yet in the previous three days I do believe I have changed more than I had in the thousands prior...(ignoring, of course, my normal growth from infant to child, and from child to teenager, as I suppose everyone goes through those changes...I wonder what it would be like, for a human who never did...?)

...He was going off again.

...At any rate, I certainly would never feel so strongly for someone I met so recently in any other circumstance. It is quite remarkable, the affect the threat of incoming death can have on one's psyche. Even on one such as myself...I have hardly thought of that inevitability at all. Even now it is hardly a reality for me. And yet even I am changing.

Perhaps it is not that. Perhaps death has little to do with it. Perhaps I am simply...learning?

Other people do seem to be capable of forming attachments so quickly, or at least capable of feeling strongly about human life as a whole. Perhaps this is a good thing.

Perhaps I should be protecting the person who led me to this conclusion?

Jasper-Declan had, in typically roundabout fashion, made up his mind.

He stood, reestablishing his grip on his gun. His gun. He'd almost forgotten about his gun, but it was still there, with eight bullets and the capacity to cause great suffering. Jasper-Declan's biggest question still went unanswered, but it was there nonetheless.

Why do I have a gun? What is this gun for?

Jasper-Declan began to walk, following in the imaginary footsteps of Carly hours before.

He wanted to know. But now was not the moment he wanted to find out.

[D/N]

[Hooray, only about six months later ]

"Yeah! Yeah you get up and get away from me, stupid! You know what Sebastian, I'm not scared of YOU anymore! You think you're a big guy, Sebastian! Get out of here before I kick you in your tiny balls!"

She saw George at the bottom of the hill, and turned to him, taking her attention away from her stupid arch-nemesis for a moment.

"It's OK George! I can handle myself! I can---"

Something struck her on the shoulder. HARD. Hard like it was going to bruise.

FUCKING SEBASTIAN.

"Ow! OW DID YOU JUST HIT ME?!"

He had, and even as Carly tried to bring up her hands to ward off Sebastian's attacks he was hitting her again and again, hitting her with a big piece of WOOD of all things. Carly yelled, and took a step forward ready to claw that asshole's eyes out, when he hit her again.

"You stupid-ass Sebastian ASSHOLE! You--"

Carly stepped backward, her idea to claw that asshole's eyes out replaced by the need to get away from that asshole as quick as possible. But she only made it a half-step before Sebastian's last swing struck her right on the forehead and made her see stars. The pain exploded briefly, and then seemed to disappear. It was replaced with some strange, dull feeling that blurred her vision and made everything happen in slow motion. She stepped on the vase, shattering both it and the dreams of many of the more perverse SOTF fanboys lurking on the dregs of the Internet, and then she fell backwards and rolled, dully thinking about nothing at all.

Then the side of her head collided with the jagged edge of a tree stump, nearly buried in the grass, and although Carly slid a few more feet before coming to a stop, although she was still technically alive for another minute or so while all her vital functions wound down, her feeling days were done, too. For Carly Jean, it had been a quick, unheralded end, as most people probably expected.

Of course, Carly Jean Dooley had never had a chance to win Survival of the Fittest. She was an overemotional girl of moderate intelligence with few friends on the island and a joke weapon based on a lesbian rape scene. The oddsmakers had sensibly ranked her right near the bottom of the field with a few dozen other oddballs, weaklings and longshots, and most of the discussion about them was in regards to which of those presumed fodder characters would inevitably end up shocking everyone and making it near the endgame. Her death, when it came and went, was simply treated as a trimming of the field, another minor character killed off. A step above the kids who just go off and commit suicide or fall and hit their head on a rock, or those who are randomly shot in the distance by someone they don't know, but certainly not a scene or character that would be much remembered by the time the show was over. But you know what? If you'd told Carly in advance that she'd have at least survived a few days on the island and outlasted several of the supposed favorites, that she would get to meet George, that she'd be able to achieve a sense of contentment with herself, that her death would be quick and mostly painless, and that she'd be able to kick Jimmy Brennan in the balls, well, she would have still been sad about dying, sure; but all in all she'd have been OK with that.

Even if had to be by fucking Sebastian.

GO36 - Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED

[Super Llama†]

((Hopefully D/N won't mind a little bit of GMing so I can write the post more easily. If it turns out to be a problem, I can change it.))

Feeling the impact of the driftwood against Carly was admittedly satisfying, his anger and indignation pouring out with every swing. And then the final swing struck her in the head and sent her tumbling down the hill towards her friend. Stupid bitch should've just kept her mouth shut and she would've gotten out of these a few bruises shorter.

As she watched Carly roll down the hill, the realization of what he'd just done hit him. FUCK! This is exactly what he was trying to avoid! He was supposed to integrate himself into a group and keep a low profile for as long as he could. But if he went around smacking people in the head with a stick, how the hell was that keeping a low profile? And what if he ended up killing her? That'd just make things even worse!

Sebastian was starting to panic, looking down at the boy at the bottom of the hill, who he suddenly recognized as the boy from the docks, the stand-offish one who seemed was practically itching to get in a fight. Well, looks like he had plenty reason to do so now. Sebastian needed to just the hell out of here. He took a step back.

And his foot slipped.

Wait, no no nonononoFUCKINGHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILL!!

[blastinus]

(Apologies for GMing on my part as well, but this post has been long overdue)

It seemed to happen almost in slow motion. Sebastian drew back the piece of wood, and George began hastily scrambling to get up the hill the rest of the way. But he might as well have been taking a leisurely stroll. Because before George had even come halfway up, there was a sickening crack, and Carly stumbled forward. But Sebastian wasn't done. As George froze in place, nearly losing his footing, Sebastian struck her again and again. And then she fell, rolling past George and coming to a stop on her side at the bottom of the hill. She wasn't moving.

No, she's fine...she's...she's just unconscious! She's...she's...

George's grip tightened, and as he turned back to see that Sebastian was losing his own footing on the hill, his entire expression became almost manic. With a sudden surge of balance, he came up the hill at a great speed, closing the gap between the two men. He wasn't going to be content with just punching Sebastian out as he originally intended. No, he was going to beat him, and he wasn't going to stop until he was a formless pile of meat. For every blow he had dealt to Carly, he was going to get a hundred.

He was upon him now. Drawing his fist back, George decided that he was going to start with his face and go from there. With a shriek of fury, he shot out his fist with reckless abandon, uncaring about whether it would hurt.

You're gonna pay! You're gonna pay, and you're gonna die!

[Hollyquin†]

[[OOC: This is overdue and will be improved when I'm more conscious.]]

He kept walking.

It had been some time, now. He didn't know how long- Jasper-Declan had never been good at estimating time. When you spend most of your time inside your head, seconds seem to span eternities, and vice versa. But time had passed, certainly, as he observed some slight movement in the sun's position. Perhaps it had been an hour. Perhaps longer.

Perhaps not even that. Perhaps the sun did not move at all, but its own light has tricked me into misunderstanding its position...perhaps I have not gone very far at all.

But he kept walking, keeping up something like a straight path, his gun swinging loosely at his side.

He heard something.

People?

Classmates. Friends? Enemies. Potential allies...current allies. Attackers. People. Conflict. Trouble. I should leave for my own safety. But it may be Carly. But it may mean my own destruction. But...

He heard something, again. Something aggressive, something violent, something loud. Something too loud, far too loud. Something wrong.

Something wrong.

I should- but-

I should not be here. I should stay away from conflict. I will only endanger myself.

I cannot do this. There is no-

but-

but-

but I cannot do this, but I should not be here.

I am incapable. I cannot help anyone. I cannot help her.

her?

Her. Carly. She is my friend

ally. that means I must help her.

I cannot. It is impossible. I will only endanger-

I-

Cycling. Cycling. Always cycling. Jasper-Declan's thoughts. They moved in patterns. Indecipherable patterns. Repeating. Swirling. Always cycling.

His legs simply moved.



There were bodies. Several. Three. One female, two male. One quiet, two loud.

Two moving.


One still.

He ran to still, female, quiet, and it was her, it was her. Why was she so quiet, why was she not moving, why was she, was this blood? It was red, and warm, and dripping. Yes, it must be blood.

There were two more, and they were loud, and moving, but they did not exist. Only he existed, he and this girl who was not moving. He did not move either.

She was gone and he would somehow find her.

Cycling, again. Inexplicable cycling. Why did he care? He shouldn't care. He met her yesterday. But Jasper-Declan cycled.

Carly.

Carly?

Wake up.

Come back.

Please.

Carly.

Carly?...

I...

[Super Llama†]

The world was conspiring against Sebastian today, he thought as he slid down the hill towards George just in time to get a punch to the face. Goddammit, all he had to do was walk away and not slide down the hill the first time, and none of this happened. But NOOOO! Everything here just had to fucking conspire against him!

Fuck this hill.

Fuck this island.

Fuck Carly.

Fuck this asshole in front of him.

Fuck EVERYBODY.

Sebastian felt the anger welling back up, and this time was more than willing to act on it. His plan was pretty much shot to hell now, might as well take out his anger on this fuckwit who just punched him in the face.

Aiming his piece of driftwood as well as he could, he drove the tip upward towards George's stomach. Maybe he could knock the wind out of him and REALLY get to venting, because fuck all of this shit.

[blastinus]

George had been far too hasty. As he had run up, intent on pounding the face off of Sebastian, he had failed to consider that his opponent had a weapon to use against him. This was a costly mistake, and George was therefore unprepared for a blow to the gut that staggered him back and doubled him over, groaning in pain. Any sensible person would have probably reevaluated his tactics, perhaps come at Sebastian from a different angle. But George wasn't sensible right now. Not in the slightest.

You think that's going to stop me? YOU THINK I'M GONNA STOP?! No...THAT'S JUST GONNA MAKE THIS BETTER!

Anger turned even the sharpest thinkers into blind fools, and George had not been much of a brilliant thinker to begin with. Without even considering the consequences of his actions, he merely ran back at Sebastian, shooting out his fists at whatever he could find to hit. He decided on Sebastian's gut, as a sort of payback for the pain that he was feeling in his own stomach right at this very minute. Little did he know, but his opponent had something a little extra hidden underneath his shirt. He couldn't see it, of course, but as the blow struck home, the Indiana Jones wannabe clearly felt it, as he cried out in pain and held his fist.

What did I...What did I just punch?

Sebastian's assigned 'weapon' had been useful in this instance, as George was too concerned about the searing pain in his hand to realize that he was leaving himself wide open. This was likely to hurt.

[Hollyquin†]

Silence.

No, there wasn't silence. Not at all. And yet, for the first time in years, Jasper-Declan's mind was completely blank.

In front of him was...Carly. No, it wasn't Carly, not anymore. Carly Jean Dooley was no longer on the island. All that remained was an empty shell, something that used to contain that girl. She was gone and now he was alone.

Again.

He, who had been perfectly still, perfectly silent for however many moments before- he twitched.

His hand twitched, then his neck. He looked up.

People. People?

His mind completed its reboot and turned back on.

People. They are...fighting? Why? Two...boys. I saw them both before, did I not? One is...George. I met him earlier. The three of... He stumbled over the thought, remembering that one of the three no longer existed. ...the three of us were supposed to be a group. We were going to move together, but George became separated from us at some point in town. Presumably he was attempting to catch up to us, and he ended up here with us. Except he was...

The words too late seemed to catch themselves in his mind. He didn't want to think them.

Carly wasn't gone. She just wasn't here.

Yes. That was easier to accept.

Jasper-Declan stood. Perhaps that wasn't the wisest course of action, considering the battle going on so close to him, but he wasn't thinking particularly clearly, nor was he all that concerned with his own safety anymore. All he knew was he didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to be near George, who had been too late, nor did he want to be near this other boy- who was he? It didn't matter, anyone so violent should be avoided. He wanted to be-

I...I want to be home.

It hit him, hard, in the chest, like a physical thing.

I want to be home. I want to be with my brother and sister. I want to see Alex and know that he is not soon to die. I want to see my mother and father and have them not be terrified for my inevitable demise. I want to swim. I want to skate.

I want to run.



I want to run...


Well, that, at least, he could do.

He ran. Away from the fight. Away from the shell of the girl who'd become his friend. Away from his own thoughts. Away from the new announcement that came buzzing over the loudspeaker.

Jasper-Declan turned off the sound and ran again in silence.

[[Jasper-Declan MacDermott continued in Revenge is Best Served Cold]]

[Super Llama†]

Rage had taken Sebastian over, erasing any sense of restraint, or just plain sense in general. Seeing George stagger back only drove him onwards, and he prepared a while swing in his direction.

...only for it to miss entirely, sailing right over the boy's head as he ran in to drive his fist into his gut. He steeled himself, ready to get the wind knocked out of him, but was surprised when it turned out to not really be as bad as he expected. Not even thinking of the chainmail under his shirt that had protected him, he instead saw another opportunity for an attack as George clutched his hand, even more surprised than he was. Stepping back, Sebastian readied another swing, this time aiming for George's head. He'd finish it this time.

You want to fuck with me? You all want to fuck with me? I'll SHOW you what happens when you fuck with me!

[blastinus]

George could not have honestly said that he had seen Sebastian's attack coming. Sure, he had expected it, but he was in no state to dodge it or even raise a hand to stop it. Instead, he simply took the blow, straight in the kisser.

He wasn't entirely sure what had happened after that, only coming to half a minute later in a pile of leaves at the bottom of the hill, with the edge of one of them stinging his eyes. What had happened, had he the mental faculties to realize it, was that he had been stunned by the impact of the wood, and he had basically just thrown himself down the hill, defeated and no longer in a mood for fighting. His clothes were dirty, and he was still conspicuously missing a sneaker, but he was alive, and that was all that counted. He was alive, even though...

Carly...

George sank his head down again, but he did not rest. Instead, he just stared sideways at the unmoving girl lying a short distance away from him. What was he going to do now that she was gone? He had no weapons, and no purpose for existing. What did it matter now if he saved anyone else? Carly would still be gone.

Might as well just shoot myself, except I don't have a gun. I suppose I could clear some leaves and...throw myself down the hill some more. Maybe that would work.

For all his planning, George was conspicuously still. Now that Carly was gone, all his motivation to do anything had gone out of the window. Maybe he'd work up the motivation to go somewhere in a few hours. For now, he'd just lie here and...think.

(George Leidman continued in No Crying Allowed)