Amelia was happy to see that she’d done something good, and Lori agreed to let her help. She grinned up at the other girl from her knelt positing and beckoned her a bit closer. Amelia realized that she was still holding onto the gun, and looked at it for a moment. She wondered if it was a good idea to put it down. If Dolly were here, she’d know what the right choice was, so why was it always so hard for Amelia? With everything going on, she probably had to start thinking for herself, and that sounded kind of scary. But when she thought of the people she was currently around, she didn’t think any of them were dangerous, so what would be wrong?
Decisions were hard, but Amelia had to make them now.
She placed the gun between her knees. That was a safe spot. With that out of the way, she took Lori’s arm gently in hers and pulled out a roll of gauze from her first aid kit. She followed that with a few alcohol swabs. Her grandma always told her to put alcohol on a cut, so that’s what she was going to do. She ripped open the swab with some difficulty, and looked up at Lori with it in hand.
“Um… this might sting, okay?”
She nodded and counted to three before wiping at the cut with the swab. She looked up at Lori to make sure she was okay before doing so again. She repeated the process about four time, making sure the cut was clean and most of the excess blood had been wiped away. She then turned to open the roll of gauze. As tightly as she could, she went about wrapping up the cut. Around and around the gauze went on Lori’s arm, and when she thought it was sufficiently wrapped, Amelia took the scissors from the kit and cut the gauze off. There was a small hook thingy that looked like it would hold the wrapping closed. Amelia had seen her grandma use them before. She pinched it like she’d seen it done, and there! It looked pretty darn good if she said so herself.
She looked up and it seemed the conversation had moved on without her as she was focused on the cut, so she just sort of looked around the room in a daze, before settling back on Lori.
“Miss Lori? It should be okay now.”
She smiled sweetly and turned to Declyn. He looked concerned. She turned her head and saw Ace lifting Ivy. Oh yeah, she was hurt bad too. She frowned.
“Is she gonna be okay?” She asked softly, and felt herself getting kind of worried and sad.
the world is spinning but only in grey
open!
"Nothing to worry about" was, perhaps, the stupidest thing Ivy had heard yet today.
No, that was uncharitable. She'd happily give that title to the exact tone of voice in which Lori had yelled the words "SLAP CHOP" while chopping at the air and somehow not simultaneously collapsing under the weight of her own shame. Ace's form of idiocy was at least him attempting to be helpful. The urge to say something like yes, nothing to worry about at all, everything has just gone so wonderfully for me so far was there, but the words wilted in her throat. She didn't have the energy, nor, unusually, the inclination. She was still hurting, still tired. Tragically she had something to thank Lori for; her sudden appearance had put a fire back in her that Julien had stamped out. It was weak, still, but it was there.
She was alive.
She did not intend to let that change anytime soon.
For the time being, she felt reasonably safe. Declyn wouldn't use his gun without a very strong reason to do so, and she certainly didn't intend to let herself become that reason. Amelia likely wouldn't use it at all, to the betterment of whoever inevitably stole it from her eventually. A gun was tempting. She could do with a gun. Not worth risking the wrath of the room, though, particularly considering Declyn's obvious attachment to her. Ace's weapon was an unknown quantity at this point but... well. It would be naive to say she knew him. She knew him in the past tense for however much or little that meant, but for the time being she felt him trustworthy. Lori was not trustworthy in the least but she was also an ugly moron so literally who cared.
She could relax, as much as she could relax with the constant pain assailing her every time she dared to breathe in. Declyn was right. She should lay down, they should look at her wounds. She followed his gaze as it flicked upward for a moment to a camera, obvious, staring at her, somehow missed in her original assessment of the room likely through unconscious denial. She pursed her lips for a moment. Her father would have written her off the moment he heard the buses went missing. She knew. Her mother didn't exist. Her friends were here. They were all here. All but one.
Would she watch? Did it matter? For once in their lives it hardly felt like her place to tell Gyu-ri what to do.
She nodded at Ace and he scooped her up, effortlessly, not for the first time; this time her only priority was keeping her back as straight as she could, avoiding pressing inward onto her ribs. His arms were strong. Then she was on the bed, laying on her back. Her breathing was steady enough. It hurt, still. It would keep hurting, she knew. For the time being all she could do was have the others take a look, see if there was anything that needed to be done, though her guess was the meager supplies in their first-aid kit wouldn't do much.
There was half a moment of self-consciousness as she touched the hem of her shirt, but it passed quickly; she and Lori shared a changing room, Amelia was a girl, Declyn was gay. And Ace had seen her in a bikini. She pulled the fabric up and over her head, an involuntary whimper escaping her as the action stretched her muscles, she tossed it aside aimlessly, it hurt again, she had been doing so well. She looked down at herself.
She looked away, immediately, her gaze unfixed and staring away from herself and the others, at the wall. She'd only seen for a moment. Dark blue and purple, collar to hip. It was too much. She'd leave it to the others. She was quite sure if she looked again she was going to throw up.
No, that was uncharitable. She'd happily give that title to the exact tone of voice in which Lori had yelled the words "SLAP CHOP" while chopping at the air and somehow not simultaneously collapsing under the weight of her own shame. Ace's form of idiocy was at least him attempting to be helpful. The urge to say something like yes, nothing to worry about at all, everything has just gone so wonderfully for me so far was there, but the words wilted in her throat. She didn't have the energy, nor, unusually, the inclination. She was still hurting, still tired. Tragically she had something to thank Lori for; her sudden appearance had put a fire back in her that Julien had stamped out. It was weak, still, but it was there.
She was alive.
She did not intend to let that change anytime soon.
For the time being, she felt reasonably safe. Declyn wouldn't use his gun without a very strong reason to do so, and she certainly didn't intend to let herself become that reason. Amelia likely wouldn't use it at all, to the betterment of whoever inevitably stole it from her eventually. A gun was tempting. She could do with a gun. Not worth risking the wrath of the room, though, particularly considering Declyn's obvious attachment to her. Ace's weapon was an unknown quantity at this point but... well. It would be naive to say she knew him. She knew him in the past tense for however much or little that meant, but for the time being she felt him trustworthy. Lori was not trustworthy in the least but she was also an ugly moron so literally who cared.
She could relax, as much as she could relax with the constant pain assailing her every time she dared to breathe in. Declyn was right. She should lay down, they should look at her wounds. She followed his gaze as it flicked upward for a moment to a camera, obvious, staring at her, somehow missed in her original assessment of the room likely through unconscious denial. She pursed her lips for a moment. Her father would have written her off the moment he heard the buses went missing. She knew. Her mother didn't exist. Her friends were here. They were all here. All but one.
Would she watch? Did it matter? For once in their lives it hardly felt like her place to tell Gyu-ri what to do.
She nodded at Ace and he scooped her up, effortlessly, not for the first time; this time her only priority was keeping her back as straight as she could, avoiding pressing inward onto her ribs. His arms were strong. Then she was on the bed, laying on her back. Her breathing was steady enough. It hurt, still. It would keep hurting, she knew. For the time being all she could do was have the others take a look, see if there was anything that needed to be done, though her guess was the meager supplies in their first-aid kit wouldn't do much.
There was half a moment of self-consciousness as she touched the hem of her shirt, but it passed quickly; she and Lori shared a changing room, Amelia was a girl, Declyn was gay. And Ace had seen her in a bikini. She pulled the fabric up and over her head, an involuntary whimper escaping her as the action stretched her muscles, she tossed it aside aimlessly, it hurt again, she had been doing so well. She looked down at herself.
She looked away, immediately, her gaze unfixed and staring away from herself and the others, at the wall. She'd only seen for a moment. Dark blue and purple, collar to hip. It was too much. She'd leave it to the others. She was quite sure if she looked again she was going to throw up.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
"Yeah, like the ones from T.V." said Lori in response to Declyn's question. She arranged herself in a cross-legged position and scooched close to Amelia. She informed her of the incoming sting of the alcohol pad.
No duh
But Lori didn't verbalize the snide remark, instead just nodding. She sat still as Amelia worked, staying stone-faced. It hurt, but she didn't feel the need to show it. Ivy was over there groaning and moaning enough for the both of them. Lori just curiously watched Amelia, suddenly filled with a strange sense of ease. Her heart sank when she called her "Miss" again and she returned the other girl's smile.
"Oh, um, thanks. Thank you," she said, putting her right hand over the gauze. "That's very nice of you."
Lori peered up at the bed where Ivy was disrobing so that they could deal with her injuries. She was really fucked up, but Lori wasn't surprised. Ivy had a mouth on her and it was a small miracle that no one had ripped a chunk of her pink hair out before now. Ivy stripped off her shirt and Lori eyed her, thinking that at least there was one quantifiable thing she had more of than Ivy.
Lori watched from the floor, assessing the damage.
"I don't think there's much you can do. Bruises, they're bruises. We don't have ice. Maybe there's something for the pain in the med kits. You should give her whatever pain killers or ibuprofen is in there. I cracked a rib like two years ago because some IDIOT wasn't listening to instructions. If it's cracked there's nothing you guys can do besides let it heal. Don't wrap it up though. I had to get x-rays to see if they were cracked or broken and broken means you need a surgeon, which obviously we don't have," she offered.
"Ummm....no twisting, laughing, coughing," she said, ticking them off her fingers. "Also since I got here late, who did this?"
No duh
But Lori didn't verbalize the snide remark, instead just nodding. She sat still as Amelia worked, staying stone-faced. It hurt, but she didn't feel the need to show it. Ivy was over there groaning and moaning enough for the both of them. Lori just curiously watched Amelia, suddenly filled with a strange sense of ease. Her heart sank when she called her "Miss" again and she returned the other girl's smile.
"Oh, um, thanks. Thank you," she said, putting her right hand over the gauze. "That's very nice of you."
Lori peered up at the bed where Ivy was disrobing so that they could deal with her injuries. She was really fucked up, but Lori wasn't surprised. Ivy had a mouth on her and it was a small miracle that no one had ripped a chunk of her pink hair out before now. Ivy stripped off her shirt and Lori eyed her, thinking that at least there was one quantifiable thing she had more of than Ivy.
Lori watched from the floor, assessing the damage.
"I don't think there's much you can do. Bruises, they're bruises. We don't have ice. Maybe there's something for the pain in the med kits. You should give her whatever pain killers or ibuprofen is in there. I cracked a rib like two years ago because some IDIOT wasn't listening to instructions. If it's cracked there's nothing you guys can do besides let it heal. Don't wrap it up though. I had to get x-rays to see if they were cracked or broken and broken means you need a surgeon, which obviously we don't have," she offered.
"Ummm....no twisting, laughing, coughing," she said, ticking them off her fingers. "Also since I got here late, who did this?"
Declyn’s eyes lingered on Ace’s expression for a bit. The urge to give him a hug grew.
He looked down and then to Amelia when her voice echoed beside him. He was glad to see that Lori had been taken care of by her. The gauze seemed sturdy, enough for the size of the cut. He couldn’t help but smile and gave Amelia a small pat on her shoulder. “Hey, well done, Doctor.” Though, the smile wavered since each of Ivy’s whimpers and noises imprinted itself on his skin like a small sting.
“Let’s see what else is in here.”
He took the first aid kit out of the bag quickly, moving over to the dresser in the upper left of the room. He put it on top of it and started to take out the items, one by one, to get a better overview. As long as there was something in there that would help in the smallest bit, it was enough. Because Lori was right; there was no surgeon out here, nothing. There was soap though. Iodine, burn relief gel. Aloe gel. That’s where he stopped, his finger tapping against the wooden surface. It had long been known for its benefits.
His dad had one. His grandmother had had one. An evergreen plant, one that never loses its leaves. They didn’t have any at the gardening club. Succulents weren’t Camilla’s field of expertise, neither was it Declyn’s. Theo seemed more interested in growing anything edible. Diego adored them and owned a few, so he might be the most knowledgeable one about them. Drew.... maybe? He had a couple of small ones in his room.
But none of that mattered.
And yet he kept thinking about it while he checked the back of the tube.
Point was, Declyn knew the gel had a soothing function, plus sometimes it felt cool on your skin, though he wasn’t sure how great that effect would be since the bag had been exposed to the sun.
“Is this....,” really happening? He was just mumbling to himself now, his lips not finishing the sentence since the answer was obvious. He also grabbed the open packet of ibuprofen before he turned to the bed.
“Wrapping it up might help with the pain though if we have to get a move on. Not now, but later," he said. Lori obviously knew what she was talking about but the situation here was also different. “At least no laughing should be no problem."
When he walked around it to the other side where Ace was standing, that’s when the sight of Ivy’s injuries really hit him. His gaze flickered again. It flickered between her hip, her face, Ace’s eyes, her chest,
then Lori.
“Julien did this. Julien Leblanc,” he said in response to her question.
He made sure to say the name loud enough for any cameras, for everyone. It wasn’t like they hadn’t captured it already but he would say it again if he needed to. Over and over again until everyone knew.
Declyn put the items down next to Ivy just to go back to his bag and pull out one of the bottles of water so she'd have something to gulp the pain killers down with. He didn't want to rummage through her things.
He looked down and then to Amelia when her voice echoed beside him. He was glad to see that Lori had been taken care of by her. The gauze seemed sturdy, enough for the size of the cut. He couldn’t help but smile and gave Amelia a small pat on her shoulder. “Hey, well done, Doctor.” Though, the smile wavered since each of Ivy’s whimpers and noises imprinted itself on his skin like a small sting.
“Let’s see what else is in here.”
He took the first aid kit out of the bag quickly, moving over to the dresser in the upper left of the room. He put it on top of it and started to take out the items, one by one, to get a better overview. As long as there was something in there that would help in the smallest bit, it was enough. Because Lori was right; there was no surgeon out here, nothing. There was soap though. Iodine, burn relief gel. Aloe gel. That’s where he stopped, his finger tapping against the wooden surface. It had long been known for its benefits.
His dad had one. His grandmother had had one. An evergreen plant, one that never loses its leaves. They didn’t have any at the gardening club. Succulents weren’t Camilla’s field of expertise, neither was it Declyn’s. Theo seemed more interested in growing anything edible. Diego adored them and owned a few, so he might be the most knowledgeable one about them. Drew.... maybe? He had a couple of small ones in his room.
But none of that mattered.
And yet he kept thinking about it while he checked the back of the tube.
Point was, Declyn knew the gel had a soothing function, plus sometimes it felt cool on your skin, though he wasn’t sure how great that effect would be since the bag had been exposed to the sun.
“Is this....,” really happening? He was just mumbling to himself now, his lips not finishing the sentence since the answer was obvious. He also grabbed the open packet of ibuprofen before he turned to the bed.
“Wrapping it up might help with the pain though if we have to get a move on. Not now, but later," he said. Lori obviously knew what she was talking about but the situation here was also different. “At least no laughing should be no problem."
When he walked around it to the other side where Ace was standing, that’s when the sight of Ivy’s injuries really hit him. His gaze flickered again. It flickered between her hip, her face, Ace’s eyes, her chest,
then Lori.
“Julien did this. Julien Leblanc,” he said in response to her question.
He made sure to say the name loud enough for any cameras, for everyone. It wasn’t like they hadn’t captured it already but he would say it again if he needed to. Over and over again until everyone knew.
Declyn put the items down next to Ivy just to go back to his bag and pull out one of the bottles of water so she'd have something to gulp the pain killers down with. He didn't want to rummage through her things.
He was no stranger to bruises..
And Ivy Langley wasn’t exactly a stranger to showing skin.
His mind was on a loop going through the stages of grief in rapid motion while desperately trying to hold onto whatever clarity the lapses into acceptance gave him. Images of Ivy a lifetime away at pool parties and other functions hit him like a plate of yams with extra syrup…
The bruises brought him back down.
He was a running back and there came a reality to playing that position: you were going to get hit, a fucking lot. It was something he understood and took with pride. He was not scared of contact, rather, he sought it out and took a special relish in every blow. Fear was fire and nothing fueled that flame quite like pain...Ace wasn’t scared of his own hurt. He embraced that adrenaline like a mother and guzzled the endorphins like milk.
Fear wasn’t a bad thing, so long as you did the right thing with it.
Ivy’s bruises took up his focus thoughts and fueled his fear in different directions. The obvious had been there and been on the tip of his tongue since arrival: what if it had been him or someone he cared about on the end of the beating? That pain and fear was still there and still visceral but it was turned to positivity fairly easily. He could imagine himself helping the wounded or being resilient in the face of struggle. He could spin the negative to positive there when it came to attending to the victim. Positive thoughts brought positive actions. Just keep thinking good and good shit will happen to you. If he could be the good he wanted in the world he could focus less on the bad. It was harder when the good was less obvious...
Leblanc’s name put that at the forefront of his mind.
“What kinda man does some shit like this? To a little girl?”
That was the thought he asked out loud but the one in his head rang louder…
And what kinda man are you to judge anybody out here?
He was confident against most boys in his class--even against Wyatt if he had the element of surprise. He was fast and strong and resilient--an elite athlete, a better one in terms of pure athleticism than most. 1 in 1000. He could beat Julien down. Would that be justice? Kicking his ribs and stomping his face? Would that help Ivy or make Ace feel better?
Maybe.
But there were other questions that needed answering…
What if something worse happened? What if he saw Julien and did nothing and said nothing? What if Leblanc had a gun and he froze just like he had when Declyn arrived? What did that mean? What was the right thing to say right now? What was the right thing to do?
Fear ain’t a totally good thing out here either.
He was no stranger to bruises but he usually left his care to the training staff or his mother. What kind of man was he? Barely one at all. Dec gathered the supplies and Ace did his best to look at his feet instead of dwelling on Ivy’s damage.
His thoughts returned to the loop--what would Meilin do? What would his Mom do? What should he do?
He gripped her hand, tentatively at first and then squeezing a bit just to be like ‘you aren’t alone, it’s okay’, they were stupid thoughts and he knew it...but fake it till you make it, right?
“Pop a few of those and rest and you’ll be okay,” he said nervously, “Gonna need more than a few bruises to take out the Prom Queen, right? You’ll be back in action and we’ll be going home before you know it. Bet.”
He lied, mostly, he couldn’t really tell at the moment.
“We should secure this place up if we’re gonna hole up here for a bit,” he said calmly or tried, “Maybe block the doors and lock all but one window so we can sneak in and out? That’s what we did at the crib when I would lose my key...that way we get a heads up if we get any visitors and shit."
He paused.
"I dunno. I'm fucked up. This is fucked up. Shit.”
Again.
"Fuckin' Leblanc."
And Ivy Langley wasn’t exactly a stranger to showing skin.
His mind was on a loop going through the stages of grief in rapid motion while desperately trying to hold onto whatever clarity the lapses into acceptance gave him. Images of Ivy a lifetime away at pool parties and other functions hit him like a plate of yams with extra syrup…
The bruises brought him back down.
He was a running back and there came a reality to playing that position: you were going to get hit, a fucking lot. It was something he understood and took with pride. He was not scared of contact, rather, he sought it out and took a special relish in every blow. Fear was fire and nothing fueled that flame quite like pain...Ace wasn’t scared of his own hurt. He embraced that adrenaline like a mother and guzzled the endorphins like milk.
Fear wasn’t a bad thing, so long as you did the right thing with it.
Ivy’s bruises took up his focus thoughts and fueled his fear in different directions. The obvious had been there and been on the tip of his tongue since arrival: what if it had been him or someone he cared about on the end of the beating? That pain and fear was still there and still visceral but it was turned to positivity fairly easily. He could imagine himself helping the wounded or being resilient in the face of struggle. He could spin the negative to positive there when it came to attending to the victim. Positive thoughts brought positive actions. Just keep thinking good and good shit will happen to you. If he could be the good he wanted in the world he could focus less on the bad. It was harder when the good was less obvious...
Leblanc’s name put that at the forefront of his mind.
“What kinda man does some shit like this? To a little girl?”
That was the thought he asked out loud but the one in his head rang louder…
And what kinda man are you to judge anybody out here?
He was confident against most boys in his class--even against Wyatt if he had the element of surprise. He was fast and strong and resilient--an elite athlete, a better one in terms of pure athleticism than most. 1 in 1000. He could beat Julien down. Would that be justice? Kicking his ribs and stomping his face? Would that help Ivy or make Ace feel better?
Maybe.
But there were other questions that needed answering…
What if something worse happened? What if he saw Julien and did nothing and said nothing? What if Leblanc had a gun and he froze just like he had when Declyn arrived? What did that mean? What was the right thing to say right now? What was the right thing to do?
Fear ain’t a totally good thing out here either.
He was no stranger to bruises but he usually left his care to the training staff or his mother. What kind of man was he? Barely one at all. Dec gathered the supplies and Ace did his best to look at his feet instead of dwelling on Ivy’s damage.
His thoughts returned to the loop--what would Meilin do? What would his Mom do? What should he do?
He gripped her hand, tentatively at first and then squeezing a bit just to be like ‘you aren’t alone, it’s okay’, they were stupid thoughts and he knew it...but fake it till you make it, right?
“Pop a few of those and rest and you’ll be okay,” he said nervously, “Gonna need more than a few bruises to take out the Prom Queen, right? You’ll be back in action and we’ll be going home before you know it. Bet.”
He lied, mostly, he couldn’t really tell at the moment.
“We should secure this place up if we’re gonna hole up here for a bit,” he said calmly or tried, “Maybe block the doors and lock all but one window so we can sneak in and out? That’s what we did at the crib when I would lose my key...that way we get a heads up if we get any visitors and shit."
He paused.
"I dunno. I'm fucked up. This is fucked up. Shit.”
Again.
"Fuckin' Leblanc."
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Amelia looked on in silence as the others began to assess Ivy’s injuries. When Amelia saw the discolored and well-bruised skin below Ivy’s shirt she let a small whimper pass through her lips. It was small enough to go unnoticed by the others around her, more than likely. Ivy’s body looked rough, and it scared Amelia somewhat. Sure, Ivy had said she’d been beaten up by someone, but it was a lot different hearing that said and seeing the damage that was caused. Ivy was even smaller than she was, which meant that there were boys her that wouldn’t hesitate to hurt small girls. Amelia had never been afraid of people before, not really. Sure maybe some people made her uncomfortable, but she’d never felt real fear of her classmates before this moment.
What if that had been her? What if there were people willing to do even worse than that?
Amelia was small and frail, no matter which way you looked at her, it was pretty clear she’d have no shot in a physical fight. Not that she’d ever want to be in one in the first place. But Ivy was the one hurt here, not her, and maybe she felt a tiny speck of relief at that. Amelia didn’t like pain, and was a big baby any time she even so much as scraped her knee. What would it feel like to go through what Ivy had?
Not very good, Amelia decided.
They said the person’s name again. The one who’d attacked her pink-haired companion. Julien. She wasn’t sure she knew him, but if she heard his name again she’d know to be careful. Dolly wasn’t here to run the show for her right now, so Amelia had to run it herself for a while. She prayed to the goddess that Dolly would stay safe until they could reunite. She moved onto her knees and held her hands clasped together over her heart, head down and eyes fluttering closed.
Peoples faces flashed in her mind as she prayed a bit. Dolly, Marceline, Roxie, Violet, Declyn (Who was thankfully right alongside her already), Yuka, Sapphire, Ericka… and even Henry Sparks too. All of them were here somewhere lost and afraid and alone, just like her. She just hoped the Goddess would protect them as long as she could from the terrible things that might happen. Amelia felt happy that at least not all her friends were suffering here. Artem and Dean were safe at home in Chattanooga, and for that small miracle she was happy. She hoped they wouldn’t condemn themselves to watch this. To view their final moments.
It was too cruel to ask of them.
Done with her prayer, and opened her eyes again and grabbed the gun from between her legs, standing herself up slowly. She wrapped up Lori’s arm really good, and Ace and Declyn seemed to be focusing on poor Ivy. Amelia wanted to be able to help more. She wanted to do something to help keep everyone as safe as she could. She had a good weapon, even if she didn’t know how to use it (or if she wanted to use it at all, really). She could be strong if they needed her to be.
Dolly would be proud of her, right?
“I’ll do it.” She piped up when Ace set out his barricade idea.
“You’re all busy, so I can go around and make sure everything is all locked up.” She felt her legs shake a bit as the thought of going alone, but she’d decided to be strong, so fear would have to take a vacation.
“Is that okay?”
What if that had been her? What if there were people willing to do even worse than that?
Amelia was small and frail, no matter which way you looked at her, it was pretty clear she’d have no shot in a physical fight. Not that she’d ever want to be in one in the first place. But Ivy was the one hurt here, not her, and maybe she felt a tiny speck of relief at that. Amelia didn’t like pain, and was a big baby any time she even so much as scraped her knee. What would it feel like to go through what Ivy had?
Not very good, Amelia decided.
They said the person’s name again. The one who’d attacked her pink-haired companion. Julien. She wasn’t sure she knew him, but if she heard his name again she’d know to be careful. Dolly wasn’t here to run the show for her right now, so Amelia had to run it herself for a while. She prayed to the goddess that Dolly would stay safe until they could reunite. She moved onto her knees and held her hands clasped together over her heart, head down and eyes fluttering closed.
Peoples faces flashed in her mind as she prayed a bit. Dolly, Marceline, Roxie, Violet, Declyn (Who was thankfully right alongside her already), Yuka, Sapphire, Ericka… and even Henry Sparks too. All of them were here somewhere lost and afraid and alone, just like her. She just hoped the Goddess would protect them as long as she could from the terrible things that might happen. Amelia felt happy that at least not all her friends were suffering here. Artem and Dean were safe at home in Chattanooga, and for that small miracle she was happy. She hoped they wouldn’t condemn themselves to watch this. To view their final moments.
It was too cruel to ask of them.
Done with her prayer, and opened her eyes again and grabbed the gun from between her legs, standing herself up slowly. She wrapped up Lori’s arm really good, and Ace and Declyn seemed to be focusing on poor Ivy. Amelia wanted to be able to help more. She wanted to do something to help keep everyone as safe as she could. She had a good weapon, even if she didn’t know how to use it (or if she wanted to use it at all, really). She could be strong if they needed her to be.
Dolly would be proud of her, right?
“I’ll do it.” She piped up when Ace set out his barricade idea.
“You’re all busy, so I can go around and make sure everything is all locked up.” She felt her legs shake a bit as the thought of going alone, but she’d decided to be strong, so fear would have to take a vacation.
“Is that okay?”
Ivy wasn't sure what she'd expected to hear. She had known, of course, that there was no easy solution to this, no simple set of steps that would make it better. Lori fancied herself an expert, as she so often seemed to do regarding topics she knew next to nothing about, and unsurprisingly she didn't add anything that Ivy couldn't have intuited from either her current condition or from having observed Lori's those years ago. Oh, she shouldn't twist when half her torso was covered in bruises? She shouldn't cough or laugh when just breathing felt like being stabbed? Thank you so much, Lori, honestly, what on earth would any of us here do without you, perish the thought of spending a moment outside the glow of your brilliance!
God, she could use a drink.
Unfortunately staring at the wall for the rest of the day in stony silence was not an option in this situation, and considering that lying here was hardly conducive to productivity she took a small breath to steel herself and pushed herself back up to a sitting position, wincing in pain at the movement, not nearly so strong as the twinge that had accompanied her taking her shirt off but unpleasant nonetheless. Sitting up straight, not putting pressure on the rib, she felt... well. It would be a lie, and an unconvincing one, to say she felt fine, or that the pain wasn't so bad, but it was at least bearable. She could think around it, to some extent. So long as she didn't breathe too hard. Or laugh, or cough, or twist. Obviously.
She should put her shirt back on, probably, but the warmth of the room was significantly more bearable without fabric clinging to her, and her bralette provided about as much coverage as your average crop top anyway, and, most importantly, remembering how much taking it off hurt made her shudder at the thought of raising her arms like that again any time soon. It was fine. She just couldn't look down. She wouldn't. The map of purple skin was burned into her memory, it hardly mattered. But still.
Declyn came bearing water and painkillers. Ace took her hand. The latter, frankly, she wasn't expecting, but she found herself squeezing his hand back. It was comforting. It didn't mean anything, but it was comforting, anyway. Didn't mean she was going to forgive him for the "little girl" comment that he probably assumed she hadn't noticed, but it was a step of some sort, she supposed. She took the painkillers along with the water, drinking more of it than she perhaps should have considering the bottle in question wasn't her own. Oh well.
She did one more scan of the group she was apparently stuck with for the time being. Two doormats, an airhead, and an idiot. Which made her the leader, by default if not by birthright. Her current infirmity was unfortunate, but it did nothing to not make her the most qualified person in this room. That said, Ace's idea was a good one, and Amelia volunteering to carry it said good things about her suitability as an ally, if not about her intelligence. She tilted her head slightly in thought for a moment.
"We'll have to check that the locks work. Not a guarantee. But if they do, yes, lock the windows besides this one." She motioned to the window on the far wall, trying to not consider how much it would hurt to attempt to climb out of it, if doing so became necessary. "I haven't left this room, so I couldn't say how many doors need barring. But it needs doing." It was the most words she'd tried to speak since waking. Her voice had regained some of its former authority, but it was still strained, with pauses that needn't normally be there when she needed to catch her breath.
She glanced at the two boys. Declyn had a gun, and Ivy would rather not let both armed members of their little group out of sight, in case Lori had lied about not having her weapon and tried to Slap Chop her to death or whatever. Logically she should ask Ace to accompany Amelia, considering he was the most physically able of them at the moment and if they had to literally block doors rather than just locking them heavy things might need to be moved. But she didn't feel like doing that. She squeezed his hand a little more and aimed her sweetest smile directly at Lori.
"Lori, darling. Would you mind helping Amelia? I mean, if that scratch of yours is too debilitating, of course I understand, but..."
God, she could use a drink.
Unfortunately staring at the wall for the rest of the day in stony silence was not an option in this situation, and considering that lying here was hardly conducive to productivity she took a small breath to steel herself and pushed herself back up to a sitting position, wincing in pain at the movement, not nearly so strong as the twinge that had accompanied her taking her shirt off but unpleasant nonetheless. Sitting up straight, not putting pressure on the rib, she felt... well. It would be a lie, and an unconvincing one, to say she felt fine, or that the pain wasn't so bad, but it was at least bearable. She could think around it, to some extent. So long as she didn't breathe too hard. Or laugh, or cough, or twist. Obviously.
She should put her shirt back on, probably, but the warmth of the room was significantly more bearable without fabric clinging to her, and her bralette provided about as much coverage as your average crop top anyway, and, most importantly, remembering how much taking it off hurt made her shudder at the thought of raising her arms like that again any time soon. It was fine. She just couldn't look down. She wouldn't. The map of purple skin was burned into her memory, it hardly mattered. But still.
Declyn came bearing water and painkillers. Ace took her hand. The latter, frankly, she wasn't expecting, but she found herself squeezing his hand back. It was comforting. It didn't mean anything, but it was comforting, anyway. Didn't mean she was going to forgive him for the "little girl" comment that he probably assumed she hadn't noticed, but it was a step of some sort, she supposed. She took the painkillers along with the water, drinking more of it than she perhaps should have considering the bottle in question wasn't her own. Oh well.
She did one more scan of the group she was apparently stuck with for the time being. Two doormats, an airhead, and an idiot. Which made her the leader, by default if not by birthright. Her current infirmity was unfortunate, but it did nothing to not make her the most qualified person in this room. That said, Ace's idea was a good one, and Amelia volunteering to carry it said good things about her suitability as an ally, if not about her intelligence. She tilted her head slightly in thought for a moment.
"We'll have to check that the locks work. Not a guarantee. But if they do, yes, lock the windows besides this one." She motioned to the window on the far wall, trying to not consider how much it would hurt to attempt to climb out of it, if doing so became necessary. "I haven't left this room, so I couldn't say how many doors need barring. But it needs doing." It was the most words she'd tried to speak since waking. Her voice had regained some of its former authority, but it was still strained, with pauses that needn't normally be there when she needed to catch her breath.
She glanced at the two boys. Declyn had a gun, and Ivy would rather not let both armed members of their little group out of sight, in case Lori had lied about not having her weapon and tried to Slap Chop her to death or whatever. Logically she should ask Ace to accompany Amelia, considering he was the most physically able of them at the moment and if they had to literally block doors rather than just locking them heavy things might need to be moved. But she didn't feel like doing that. She squeezed his hand a little more and aimed her sweetest smile directly at Lori.
"Lori, darling. Would you mind helping Amelia? I mean, if that scratch of yours is too debilitating, of course I understand, but..."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
"Julien, huh?"
She didn't really know what to say. It was surprising, but not that surprising. Lori didn't know him that well, but knew of him and knew he was close with Faith. He seemed like a person that could definitely be pushed into snapping, but not a particularly violent presence. So while she wasn't surprised he beat Ivy to a pulp, she wasn't really expecting it either. It was a sort of middle-ground of reactions, so she said nothing. Ace's "prom queen" pep talk reminded Lori of that dumb saying from that stupid movie. "Winners go home and fuck the prom queen." Well, maybe Julien was shooting for the win, because he certainly fucked up the prom queen.
Amelia volunteered to barricade the house and Lori stood up to go with her after a moment, since she had proven herself to be the person who was most pleasant to be around in the immediate vicinity. As she stood though, Ivy threw a condescending barb her way.
"I was gonna do that anyway, darlin’," she sassed back, returning a rictus.
Lori bumped the corner of the bed frame hard with her foot "accidentally," before heading to the door.
"Let's go, Amelia."
She didn't really know what to say. It was surprising, but not that surprising. Lori didn't know him that well, but knew of him and knew he was close with Faith. He seemed like a person that could definitely be pushed into snapping, but not a particularly violent presence. So while she wasn't surprised he beat Ivy to a pulp, she wasn't really expecting it either. It was a sort of middle-ground of reactions, so she said nothing. Ace's "prom queen" pep talk reminded Lori of that dumb saying from that stupid movie. "Winners go home and fuck the prom queen." Well, maybe Julien was shooting for the win, because he certainly fucked up the prom queen.
Amelia volunteered to barricade the house and Lori stood up to go with her after a moment, since she had proven herself to be the person who was most pleasant to be around in the immediate vicinity. As she stood though, Ivy threw a condescending barb her way.
"I was gonna do that anyway, darlin’," she sassed back, returning a rictus.
Lori bumped the corner of the bed frame hard with her foot "accidentally," before heading to the door.
"Let's go, Amelia."
Declyn silently agreed with Ace, letting out a pained but unnoticeable groan. All of this was fucked up. It was hard to find the right words. It was just… fucked up.
What would he even do if he saw Julien? It wouldn’t just be him. Not knowing what was happening out there while they were trying to build a secure place for themselves in this house, not knowing who was hurt or who had already met the same fate as Ms. Garcia, who was doing the hurting— not having the knowledge made him want to rip his own hair out in the roughest way.
“That sounds like a good plan,” he said, folding his arms and scratching slightly at his bare skin. If he was alone he’d just take off his shirt since it was still too hot for his liking but he’ll just have to deal with it for now. “No one should go or stay on their own while we’re here. It would be more risky.” The next remark was aimed towards Amelia and his eyes lit up a little when he looked at her. “This uh, might be a bit scarier than dealing with the supernatural but I believe in you.” Having Lori go with her made him feel calmer combined with the fact that they also had a gun.
He gave Lori a small nod.
Feeling glad that Ivy had accepted his water, he seated himself beside her and reached over her legs to grab the aloe gel. He acknowledged but ignored the mild taunts between her and Lori, wondering if this is how things usually were between the two and well, if that was the case it was nice to see people still being themselves.
“Now if you don’t mind holding still for a second....” Declyn’s expression was gentle when he looked at Ivy and the bruise on her face. He squeezed a bean-sized amount of gel onto his thumb and applied it around her eye, hoping it would make her feel better.
What would he even do if he saw Julien? It wouldn’t just be him. Not knowing what was happening out there while they were trying to build a secure place for themselves in this house, not knowing who was hurt or who had already met the same fate as Ms. Garcia, who was doing the hurting— not having the knowledge made him want to rip his own hair out in the roughest way.
“That sounds like a good plan,” he said, folding his arms and scratching slightly at his bare skin. If he was alone he’d just take off his shirt since it was still too hot for his liking but he’ll just have to deal with it for now. “No one should go or stay on their own while we’re here. It would be more risky.” The next remark was aimed towards Amelia and his eyes lit up a little when he looked at her. “This uh, might be a bit scarier than dealing with the supernatural but I believe in you.” Having Lori go with her made him feel calmer combined with the fact that they also had a gun.
He gave Lori a small nod.
Feeling glad that Ivy had accepted his water, he seated himself beside her and reached over her legs to grab the aloe gel. He acknowledged but ignored the mild taunts between her and Lori, wondering if this is how things usually were between the two and well, if that was the case it was nice to see people still being themselves.
“Now if you don’t mind holding still for a second....” Declyn’s expression was gentle when he looked at Ivy and the bruise on her face. He squeezed a bean-sized amount of gel onto his thumb and applied it around her eye, hoping it would make her feel better.
“Yeah, sounds good,” he said to Lori and Amelia, words meaningless to anybody but him, “Just y’all girls be safe and stuff.”
Already he was feeling antsy with this whole situation.
He had wanted to lock things up himself because with Amelia helping Lori and Dec helping Ivy--Ace felt pretty useless. Like a little boy trapped in the body of a man. He had come face to face with tragedy and adversity and he could feel himself shrink in the moment. He had been trying to produce confidence ever since his body had produced consciousness and he had failed. Miserably. He could feel himself failing to be brave as he tried...it made him lose it more.
As Ivy and Lori quipped he thought that the two girls were showing more calmness and bravery under pressure than he was. He was a healthy strong dude and these two wounded and bleeding and bruised cheerleaders were keeping it together while he was freaking the hell out! What a fucking joke! What was he doing? What was his move? What did he want? What could he do? A thousand questions echoed and no answers returned: a ritual that had been repeated an infinite amount of times in an infantile amount of time.
He felt lost and listless.
Declyn moved towards Ivy’s face and Ace slipped his hand from her own.
I can’t waste this day just being a scared mess.
I gotta have a plan. Rest. Get my bearings.
They’ve saved kids before, right? They could save us again. Why not?
Find my girlfriend and teammates and wait this shit the fuck out.
“I, uh, haven’t checked my bag…”, he explained turning towards and heading towards his bags, the large B10 staring at him, “They gave us a map, right? Because like death zones or whatever? I…”
Was closing my eyes and singing Luther Van Dross in my head to keep from peeing my pants after they shot Ms. Garcia. I was telling myself this couldn’t be happening and begging for my Mommy. Over and over and over again. I’m a gigantic pussy, if you hadn’t heard or noticed.
Yeah, he wasn’t going with that.
“I gotta get my shit together, fuck.”
Already he was feeling antsy with this whole situation.
He had wanted to lock things up himself because with Amelia helping Lori and Dec helping Ivy--Ace felt pretty useless. Like a little boy trapped in the body of a man. He had come face to face with tragedy and adversity and he could feel himself shrink in the moment. He had been trying to produce confidence ever since his body had produced consciousness and he had failed. Miserably. He could feel himself failing to be brave as he tried...it made him lose it more.
As Ivy and Lori quipped he thought that the two girls were showing more calmness and bravery under pressure than he was. He was a healthy strong dude and these two wounded and bleeding and bruised cheerleaders were keeping it together while he was freaking the hell out! What a fucking joke! What was he doing? What was his move? What did he want? What could he do? A thousand questions echoed and no answers returned: a ritual that had been repeated an infinite amount of times in an infantile amount of time.
He felt lost and listless.
Declyn moved towards Ivy’s face and Ace slipped his hand from her own.
I can’t waste this day just being a scared mess.
I gotta have a plan. Rest. Get my bearings.
They’ve saved kids before, right? They could save us again. Why not?
Find my girlfriend and teammates and wait this shit the fuck out.
“I, uh, haven’t checked my bag…”, he explained turning towards and heading towards his bags, the large B10 staring at him, “They gave us a map, right? Because like death zones or whatever? I…”
Was closing my eyes and singing Luther Van Dross in my head to keep from peeing my pants after they shot Ms. Garcia. I was telling myself this couldn’t be happening and begging for my Mommy. Over and over and over again. I’m a gigantic pussy, if you hadn’t heard or noticed.
Yeah, he wasn’t going with that.
“I gotta get my shit together, fuck.”
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Amelia nodded at Ivy as she began to list off a bunch of things she needed to do to make sure their area was secure. She needed to lock windows. And also check all the doors. Ivy made sure to stress that she check and make sure the locks actually work. Amelia nodded in affirmation. It was something she wouldn’t have really thought to do, so it was a really good thing that Ivy was here. And if the locks didn’t work, then what should she do? Doors could be blocked off she guessed, so she supposed she could use some furniture and stuff to block them off. Also, how big was this building? It looked pretty large from the outside. She wasn’t sure how many entrances there were. Amelia felt her head start to get mixed up with all the stuff she had to remember to get this done.
“Um… okay so the locks, and, um… doors and windows…” She mumbled as she struggled to remember the various pieces of the plan of what she was supposed to do.
Fate was kind, however, and Ivy requested that Lori accompany her. Amelia was grateful, and let out a happy sigh. She was worried if she went by herself and she forgot something she’d make some of the others upset with her. And that’s not what she wanted at all! Luckily, Ivy was sending Lori to keep her company and help. Amelia was grateful not only for the help, but also because it would have been pretty scary to have to walk around the house all by herself. Declyn offered her some words of encouragement, and she flashed him a large grin and a thumbs up.
“Don’t worry! Captain Amelia’s on the case!” She giggled and walked over to the door they recently shut, alongside Lori.
“We’ll be back soon!” She called out in answer to Ace’s worry over their safety. He didn’t need to, after all, together they’d be just fine.
Amelia pushed the door open and made her way out of the room, followed closely by Lori. Amelia held her Arsenal up like they did in the ‘Law and Order’ shows her grandma watched, keeping her back to the wall as she slowly moved from the door to the room they’d been hiding in to secure the rest of the building. She made it to a corner, and peeked around it dramatically, spinning around it and pointing the firearm into the open air of the hall. She giggled internally. She felt like she was being super cool right now. She turned to look at Lori with a grin.
“It’s clear up ahead!”
“Um… okay so the locks, and, um… doors and windows…” She mumbled as she struggled to remember the various pieces of the plan of what she was supposed to do.
Fate was kind, however, and Ivy requested that Lori accompany her. Amelia was grateful, and let out a happy sigh. She was worried if she went by herself and she forgot something she’d make some of the others upset with her. And that’s not what she wanted at all! Luckily, Ivy was sending Lori to keep her company and help. Amelia was grateful not only for the help, but also because it would have been pretty scary to have to walk around the house all by herself. Declyn offered her some words of encouragement, and she flashed him a large grin and a thumbs up.
“Don’t worry! Captain Amelia’s on the case!” She giggled and walked over to the door they recently shut, alongside Lori.
“We’ll be back soon!” She called out in answer to Ace’s worry over their safety. He didn’t need to, after all, together they’d be just fine.
Amelia pushed the door open and made her way out of the room, followed closely by Lori. Amelia held her Arsenal up like they did in the ‘Law and Order’ shows her grandma watched, keeping her back to the wall as she slowly moved from the door to the room they’d been hiding in to secure the rest of the building. She made it to a corner, and peeked around it dramatically, spinning around it and pointing the firearm into the open air of the hall. She giggled internally. She felt like she was being super cool right now. She turned to look at Lori with a grin.
“It’s clear up ahead!”
In ordinary circumstances Ivy likely would have had an answer ready for Lori, considering her usual compulsion to have the last word in any and all situations. On this particular day, though, it seemed like far from a priority. Besides, Lori was the only one actually getting hurt by ramming herself against the bed frame in her little temper tantrum, so who was the real winner here?
She had noticed it before, or at least considered it as a possibility, but it wasn't until Lori and Amelia had left the room that she realized she hadn't been wrong to feel her antagonism had fueled her toward something resembling normalcy. The moment the pair were out of sight she felt herself deflate, the artificial energy that had kept her distracted by high school pettiness fading into memory. She was so tired, still. She hurt. The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet and even when they did she was sure the pain would still gnaw at her, sapping what strength she still possessed. Six weeks, she remembered. Six weeks for the pain to stop. A possibly literal eternity. She felt herself wilting, even the power to keep herself sitting up straight seeming to evade her, but that pressed into her rib again and she wasn't allowed to relax, either, she was permitted nothing, how had she faked it for so many minutes?
She shook her head imperceptibly. A reminder to only herself. She was permitted nothing. Not weakness, either.
She looked between her two companions. Almost funny how both defied her expectations; Declyn preternaturally calm, Ace on the razor's edge of panic. It was charming, almost, from both of them, though Ace surprised her more. Why, though? He was never cocky the way the Carters were, arrogant like Connor. He had a bit of that in him, yes, it seemed to her it was impossible to be on the football team without a touch of overconfidence gracing your actions, but it didn't define him the way it did the others. He seemed like a pretty normal guy, in the grand scheme of things. Handsome and popular and all that, but by circumstance rather than by nature. Well, the popular bit, at any rate. She imagined Connor, wherever he was, was already trying to play hero. She couldn't imagine what Bret or Wyatt was up to, but she couldn't picture either breaking down the way Ace seemed a half step from right now.
... It was comforting, in a strange way. Human beings being human. She wanted to cry, too, but she had no tears left. His distress felt like an affirmation. She wasn't weak. None of them were.
Declyn was less surprising. He seemed like he was always this way, with a gentle smile and a quiet air about him. A good foil for Myles, she supposed, though one that only lasted for prom night; he was in a relationship now, she was fairly certain, though she couldn't recall with whom. It didn't matter, much. She trusted him, both of them, some token amount, as much as could be considered reasonable given their circumstances. Julien had sparked a fear that might have overwhelmed her. This new company had given her a chance.
"We have maps," she murmured, her voice sapped of its authority but at least not lost. "You ought to check for a weapon. While you're at it. And—oh."
Declyn's hand was touching her face. The gel felt cold.
"Oh."
His hand felt familiar.
Maybe she had a few tears left.
Time passed, with disconcerting slowness.
There was no way of keeping track of time besides tracking the path of the sun in the sky, and with the doors blocked and most of the windows covered that was difficult to do. The uncovered window in the bedroom faced west, as evidenced by how the sun wasn't in view at all for hours. Perhaps more obvious was just how little there was to do. She'd done some searching of the house and found it mostly empty of anything of use, though she'd found an empty bottle of perfume in the vanity in the bedroom that had sparked an idea in her mind and led to her slipping it into her bag. But there was no electricity, no internet. There was a bookshelf with some... unusual reading material that had been good for wasting a little time, though nothing of enough interest to take her mind off of her circumstances for long.
Ivy wasn't alone, of course, but the other four she knew to varying degrees and none well enough to spill the feelings bottled up in her heart. It felt as thought she'd spent an entire day holding her breath.
They'd spoken a little, mostly about their fortifications, about the layout of the island, about who they were looking for and where they might go. She nodded, played along. Her heart wasn't in it. She'd ended up here with them due to circumstance and coincidence; regardless of what they all said she had little doubt she'd be alone by morning. Declyn and Amelia would likely stay together, perhaps Lori with them if her apparent fondness for Amelia continued apace. Ace, who knew? He had his heart set on finding his girlfriend. Some part of her was surprised he'd even stayed with them this long. She was thankful, yes, that the group had arrived, had helped her shake off her fear, had tended to her wounds, but they didn't need her, and she refused to need them.
She'd been curled up on the couch in what she assumed qualified as a living room, reading a cryptic pamphlet off the bookshelf, when she noticed the light rapidly dimming. Considering the lack of electricity, going to sleep once it became too dark to see felt like the only logical option. She didn't mind. When the painkillers had first kicked in, numbing the pain in her side and her eye at least enough that she could relax a little, she had strongly considered taking a nap then and there. That seemed unwise, considering how on edge they all were. By now they were, well, still on edge. But now the need, at least, was more urgent.
They'd spoken briefly about keeping watch at night and decided on taking shifts, two at a time, such that everyone could sleep and no one could take advantage of being alone and awake to pilfer the belongings of the others and run, or worse things. The fact that Amelia or Declyn could quite easily kill the others, two to a shift or not, went unmentioned. It was easy enough to forget how close the specter of death was, when they chose to ignore it.
"So who's taking first watch?" Ivy asked idly, squinting at the pamphlet in the dregs of the fading light. The others were scattered about, but all close enough to hear.
She had noticed it before, or at least considered it as a possibility, but it wasn't until Lori and Amelia had left the room that she realized she hadn't been wrong to feel her antagonism had fueled her toward something resembling normalcy. The moment the pair were out of sight she felt herself deflate, the artificial energy that had kept her distracted by high school pettiness fading into memory. She was so tired, still. She hurt. The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet and even when they did she was sure the pain would still gnaw at her, sapping what strength she still possessed. Six weeks, she remembered. Six weeks for the pain to stop. A possibly literal eternity. She felt herself wilting, even the power to keep herself sitting up straight seeming to evade her, but that pressed into her rib again and she wasn't allowed to relax, either, she was permitted nothing, how had she faked it for so many minutes?
She shook her head imperceptibly. A reminder to only herself. She was permitted nothing. Not weakness, either.
She looked between her two companions. Almost funny how both defied her expectations; Declyn preternaturally calm, Ace on the razor's edge of panic. It was charming, almost, from both of them, though Ace surprised her more. Why, though? He was never cocky the way the Carters were, arrogant like Connor. He had a bit of that in him, yes, it seemed to her it was impossible to be on the football team without a touch of overconfidence gracing your actions, but it didn't define him the way it did the others. He seemed like a pretty normal guy, in the grand scheme of things. Handsome and popular and all that, but by circumstance rather than by nature. Well, the popular bit, at any rate. She imagined Connor, wherever he was, was already trying to play hero. She couldn't imagine what Bret or Wyatt was up to, but she couldn't picture either breaking down the way Ace seemed a half step from right now.
... It was comforting, in a strange way. Human beings being human. She wanted to cry, too, but she had no tears left. His distress felt like an affirmation. She wasn't weak. None of them were.
Declyn was less surprising. He seemed like he was always this way, with a gentle smile and a quiet air about him. A good foil for Myles, she supposed, though one that only lasted for prom night; he was in a relationship now, she was fairly certain, though she couldn't recall with whom. It didn't matter, much. She trusted him, both of them, some token amount, as much as could be considered reasonable given their circumstances. Julien had sparked a fear that might have overwhelmed her. This new company had given her a chance.
"We have maps," she murmured, her voice sapped of its authority but at least not lost. "You ought to check for a weapon. While you're at it. And—oh."
Declyn's hand was touching her face. The gel felt cold.
"Oh."
His hand felt familiar.
Maybe she had a few tears left.
Time passed, with disconcerting slowness.
There was no way of keeping track of time besides tracking the path of the sun in the sky, and with the doors blocked and most of the windows covered that was difficult to do. The uncovered window in the bedroom faced west, as evidenced by how the sun wasn't in view at all for hours. Perhaps more obvious was just how little there was to do. She'd done some searching of the house and found it mostly empty of anything of use, though she'd found an empty bottle of perfume in the vanity in the bedroom that had sparked an idea in her mind and led to her slipping it into her bag. But there was no electricity, no internet. There was a bookshelf with some... unusual reading material that had been good for wasting a little time, though nothing of enough interest to take her mind off of her circumstances for long.
Ivy wasn't alone, of course, but the other four she knew to varying degrees and none well enough to spill the feelings bottled up in her heart. It felt as thought she'd spent an entire day holding her breath.
They'd spoken a little, mostly about their fortifications, about the layout of the island, about who they were looking for and where they might go. She nodded, played along. Her heart wasn't in it. She'd ended up here with them due to circumstance and coincidence; regardless of what they all said she had little doubt she'd be alone by morning. Declyn and Amelia would likely stay together, perhaps Lori with them if her apparent fondness for Amelia continued apace. Ace, who knew? He had his heart set on finding his girlfriend. Some part of her was surprised he'd even stayed with them this long. She was thankful, yes, that the group had arrived, had helped her shake off her fear, had tended to her wounds, but they didn't need her, and she refused to need them.
She'd been curled up on the couch in what she assumed qualified as a living room, reading a cryptic pamphlet off the bookshelf, when she noticed the light rapidly dimming. Considering the lack of electricity, going to sleep once it became too dark to see felt like the only logical option. She didn't mind. When the painkillers had first kicked in, numbing the pain in her side and her eye at least enough that she could relax a little, she had strongly considered taking a nap then and there. That seemed unwise, considering how on edge they all were. By now they were, well, still on edge. But now the need, at least, was more urgent.
They'd spoken briefly about keeping watch at night and decided on taking shifts, two at a time, such that everyone could sleep and no one could take advantage of being alone and awake to pilfer the belongings of the others and run, or worse things. The fact that Amelia or Declyn could quite easily kill the others, two to a shift or not, went unmentioned. It was easy enough to forget how close the specter of death was, when they chose to ignore it.
"So who's taking first watch?" Ivy asked idly, squinting at the pamphlet in the dregs of the fading light. The others were scattered about, but all close enough to hear.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
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Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Lori returned a curt nod to Ace after he told them to be safe and followed slowly after Amelia, who was sliding around on the walls and whipping around corners while Lori kept pace behind. She rolled her eyes and started moving furniture. She was upbeat to a near-annoying degree as they did their work, but she was also very respectful and that made Lori generously give her a pass on any negative qualities.
Soon the house was fortified except for a window in the living room in case they needed a quick escape. Lori chimed in now and then into logistical discussions as much as she felt she could be helpful. Everyone had moved into the living room after it had been secured. Lori was reading a pamphlet she'd found in one of the bookcases while sitting in an arm chair.
It's okay to ask questions, but get the answers. So, where are the answers? Since the questions came from within you, guess where the answers are? Within you! It is not the world that needs peace. It is the people that need peace. When people in the world are at peace, the world will be at peace. Every moment is momentous for you and your peace!
Every once in awhile she would look over at the two guns in the room. Declyn had a gun. Amelia had a gun. What did she have? Drugs and a bunch of the worst literature on earth.
Lori ripped the pamphlet to shreds and balled up the pages, trying to get the balls into a nearby waste basket. That was the best use for this gibberish. Did she trust the others? No, she didn't. They weren't actively shooting at her or trying to strangle her, which was good, but she didn't trust this whole set up to last past the second day. People had a way of deciding it was a good idea to ditch her. It hurt and she didn't know why they did. She had a feeling it was because she was a bad person who was annoying and not even pretty enough to cover for that, but she also didn't want to admit that and pushed away.
"I'll go first," she offered, her hand shooting up. The beginnings of a plan were starting to formulate.
Soon the house was fortified except for a window in the living room in case they needed a quick escape. Lori chimed in now and then into logistical discussions as much as she felt she could be helpful. Everyone had moved into the living room after it had been secured. Lori was reading a pamphlet she'd found in one of the bookcases while sitting in an arm chair.
It's okay to ask questions, but get the answers. So, where are the answers? Since the questions came from within you, guess where the answers are? Within you! It is not the world that needs peace. It is the people that need peace. When people in the world are at peace, the world will be at peace. Every moment is momentous for you and your peace!
Every once in awhile she would look over at the two guns in the room. Declyn had a gun. Amelia had a gun. What did she have? Drugs and a bunch of the worst literature on earth.
Lori ripped the pamphlet to shreds and balled up the pages, trying to get the balls into a nearby waste basket. That was the best use for this gibberish. Did she trust the others? No, she didn't. They weren't actively shooting at her or trying to strangle her, which was good, but she didn't trust this whole set up to last past the second day. People had a way of deciding it was a good idea to ditch her. It hurt and she didn't know why they did. She had a feeling it was because she was a bad person who was annoying and not even pretty enough to cover for that, but she also didn't want to admit that and pushed away.
"I'll go first," she offered, her hand shooting up. The beginnings of a plan were starting to formulate.
Declyn’s eyes followed every single one of the little paper balls Lori sent flying towards the basket. His mind couldn't, but the occasional curious question of whether she'd score or miss interrupted his inner clutter every now and then. It was as fascinating as staring at a wall when you're supposed to do your homework.
Restlessness resided all inside him while he sat on the ground, his back leaning against the couch.
It was making his fingers tremble and his body ache at irregular intervals. Whenever it happened he’d tuck his hands under his arms, trying not to show it until it would stop within a few seconds.
He had spent the majority of the last couple of hours working on a pseudo gun holster for Amelia and himself with her help. As for materials, he had used parts from his denim jacket and extra duffle bag by cutting them with the scissors (which had proven to be just perfect for cutting textile), and a thin cord he had found in the bookshelf. In addition to that, he had also used the battery spring and wires from inside the flashlight for greater stability.
The activity had made for a good opportunity to talk and had gotten a chuckle or two out of him because, well, Amelia. Those split seconds of fun were like a refreshing shower after a hot day.
Now his gun was secured on the right on his belt area. It felt better than leaving it inside his bag or having to hold it the whole time.
“I’d prefer a later shift, but if no one else wants to go first...."
Restlessness resided all inside him while he sat on the ground, his back leaning against the couch.
It was making his fingers tremble and his body ache at irregular intervals. Whenever it happened he’d tuck his hands under his arms, trying not to show it until it would stop within a few seconds.
He had spent the majority of the last couple of hours working on a pseudo gun holster for Amelia and himself with her help. As for materials, he had used parts from his denim jacket and extra duffle bag by cutting them with the scissors (which had proven to be just perfect for cutting textile), and a thin cord he had found in the bookshelf. In addition to that, he had also used the battery spring and wires from inside the flashlight for greater stability.
The activity had made for a good opportunity to talk and had gotten a chuckle or two out of him because, well, Amelia. Those split seconds of fun were like a refreshing shower after a hot day.
Now his gun was secured on the right on his belt area. It felt better than leaving it inside his bag or having to hold it the whole time.
“I’d prefer a later shift, but if no one else wants to go first...."
In spite of everything, his fears and his worries amounted to very little as day turned to night on Murder Island.
Peace eluded Ace just as he had countless would be defenders a lifetime ago on green fields thousands of miles away.
Smoke grenades.
3 of ‘em.
It’s almost a dare isn’t it? Make something happen, use your brain and your speed and pull some shit off. People want smoke? Call me Mr. Chimney--I got the smoke!
I can do this. I can make it out of here. I can do this. I can make it out of here. I can do this.
Look in the mirror, what do you see? The baddest motherfucker you know.
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.
Look in the mirror, what do you see?
He had grand visions of mapping out a course through the island and planning his search for Meilin with a degree of meticulousness and skill that would inspire soldiers! Then he realized, all too quickly, that this wasn’t the movies and he wasn’t a soldier. He was just a kid from Chattanooga who had skipped boy scouts to play Smash Brothers--he was lost out here and there would be little to guide him that didn’t come from within. All he had with him was what he had been provided with and what was in his bag on the bus: travel toothbrush and toothpaste, a half used tube of moisturizer, two oranges and a banana he had taken from the hotel breakfast to save for later, a half drank Pure Leaf Extra Sweet Tea and a wife beater and pair of black basketball shorts. Because, y'know, ball was life.
Can you do this?
When mapping his journey didn’t pan out and he became scared of getting caught in the wilderness at night he made the decision, officially, to stay the night before leaving this group tomorrow. It'd be fine, he hoped. He knew. He prayed. He believed in Meilin--she wasn’t Ivy. She had no enemies and no big mouth or sharp tongue to get her in trouble.
Mei would be okay, she’d be looking for him too. He didn’t just need to be brave, he needed to be smart as well.
Probably wasn’t the smartest thing to spend his time working out in the house--push ups and crunches and squats. He shadow boxed imaginary opponents and felt his body coat in sweat in the humid and thick hot island air paired with the lack of A/C. He missed his father. He had never slept in a hot house.
He wouldn’t sleep tonight, he knew it. It didn’t matter how many push ups he did or how much he closed his eyes and tried. A full night’s rest was probably the first casualty for all these kids.
He didn’t think his last days of peaceful sleep would be highlighted by fighting with Wyatt over blankets but here he was. He would kill for that cramped hotel bed and loud air conditioning right now.
Poor choice of words there.
Shut up, me! You know what I meant!
They began the process of deciding who would take watch, Lori volunteered because of course she did. Ace didn’t know if Lori had been a hall monitor in elementary school but he was pretty certain she was the type. He was grateful for her now, as obnoxious as she could be. They were all kids out here, even Loudmouth Lori Martin. She was always herself, that much was certain, even if she couldn't help it or it wasn't in her interest. You could trust her to be Lori and even if that didn't count for much...that was better than most people out here.
“Sound good to me,” he said noncommittally, “I’ll do mine whenever’s easier for y’all. I don’t think I’m gonna catch many Z's tonight anyway.”
Peace eluded Ace just as he had countless would be defenders a lifetime ago on green fields thousands of miles away.
Smoke grenades.
3 of ‘em.
It’s almost a dare isn’t it? Make something happen, use your brain and your speed and pull some shit off. People want smoke? Call me Mr. Chimney--I got the smoke!
I can do this. I can make it out of here. I can do this. I can make it out of here. I can do this.
Look in the mirror, what do you see? The baddest motherfucker you know.
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.
Look in the mirror, what do you see?
He had grand visions of mapping out a course through the island and planning his search for Meilin with a degree of meticulousness and skill that would inspire soldiers! Then he realized, all too quickly, that this wasn’t the movies and he wasn’t a soldier. He was just a kid from Chattanooga who had skipped boy scouts to play Smash Brothers--he was lost out here and there would be little to guide him that didn’t come from within. All he had with him was what he had been provided with and what was in his bag on the bus: travel toothbrush and toothpaste, a half used tube of moisturizer, two oranges and a banana he had taken from the hotel breakfast to save for later, a half drank Pure Leaf Extra Sweet Tea and a wife beater and pair of black basketball shorts. Because, y'know, ball was life.
Can you do this?
When mapping his journey didn’t pan out and he became scared of getting caught in the wilderness at night he made the decision, officially, to stay the night before leaving this group tomorrow. It'd be fine, he hoped. He knew. He prayed. He believed in Meilin--she wasn’t Ivy. She had no enemies and no big mouth or sharp tongue to get her in trouble.
Mei would be okay, she’d be looking for him too. He didn’t just need to be brave, he needed to be smart as well.
Probably wasn’t the smartest thing to spend his time working out in the house--push ups and crunches and squats. He shadow boxed imaginary opponents and felt his body coat in sweat in the humid and thick hot island air paired with the lack of A/C. He missed his father. He had never slept in a hot house.
He wouldn’t sleep tonight, he knew it. It didn’t matter how many push ups he did or how much he closed his eyes and tried. A full night’s rest was probably the first casualty for all these kids.
He didn’t think his last days of peaceful sleep would be highlighted by fighting with Wyatt over blankets but here he was. He would kill for that cramped hotel bed and loud air conditioning right now.
Poor choice of words there.
Shut up, me! You know what I meant!
They began the process of deciding who would take watch, Lori volunteered because of course she did. Ace didn’t know if Lori had been a hall monitor in elementary school but he was pretty certain she was the type. He was grateful for her now, as obnoxious as she could be. They were all kids out here, even Loudmouth Lori Martin. She was always herself, that much was certain, even if she couldn't help it or it wasn't in her interest. You could trust her to be Lori and even if that didn't count for much...that was better than most people out here.
“Sound good to me,” he said noncommittally, “I’ll do mine whenever’s easier for y’all. I don’t think I’m gonna catch many Z's tonight anyway.”
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'