Trauma bred tensions. It put everyone on the defensive. It was important to empathise with that, to understand that, to not get too angry at Alexander (even though he was being a total dick right now) or get snippy at him. Her slights had been rather trivial. She'd forgotten some of her manners. Garbled a few sentences. Understandable failings in such a tense situation. Certainly far more sympathetic failings than those that some of her other classmates had succumbed to.
"I forgot to answer your question, Alexander," Ashlynn replied, trying pointedly not to scowl or to return his caustic approach. She still spoke deliberately, but it was out of emphasis rather than a need for clarity now. She made sure not to speak too loudly, made sure not to speak over everyone, not wanting to disrupt the private bubble Nia needed right now, just wanting to communicate the necessary information to Alexander. "And when I asked if you were okay, obviously I know you are not, none of us are, but it was meant as an offer to provide medical help or food or water or anything. I apologise for them both completely, but there's no need to be so hostile towards me."
I'm not the one who put you guys in such a state, after all.
"It's Ashlynn, by the way," she threw out with a calm and neutral tone, before she forgot again.
"I didn't say anything uncivil, Stepney," Ashlynn added, as a casual aside while she peaked her head out of the perimeter of the building to try and see if there were any signs of other visitors, perhaps more destitute and harmed, perhaps more aggressive and thus an even greater threat to the group. In a normal situation she would have been infuriated by his preemptive both-sidesism, but she kept her voice steady and her emotions collected, not giving a hint that she was seething beneath the surface, because she knew it was an inescapably petty and small-minded complaint in contrast to what others had gone through.
Assignment to Catastrophe
Pinging Pip; Open (Day 2; Late Morning)
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
Lil' awkward.
Bryan kept quiet for a few, on account he didn't feel as if another voice was going to do anything helpful. Sometimes, as much as some people would be surprised to hear it, Bryan did actually know how not to jump in when he wasn't needed. The group here weren't actively fighting, there was just some understandable tension, right? He hoped he was reading it right. Nia was obviously struggling and Alexander—could you blame someone, exactly, for not being at their most diplomatic? Yeah.
Hopefully Ashlynn's apology would be taken as an apology, as brusque as it probably could come off. Whew. This was a lot, huh?
Seeing Alex and Nia there together, made a guy think. He'd been so preoccupied about what the low-key ringing in his ears could mean, previously been worried that the hearing might never really come back, and there were two people who had their own permanent disabilities. Heck, Stepney, too. He'd always tried to be considerate, but this all put things in a whole new perspective, didn't it? Darn.
Take a breath. Take a sec. It didn't feel good shrugging off those kinds of thoughts, like he was just ignoring something important, but there were some other things that needed to be front and centre for a few.
"So..." he began after a second. "Sorry if this is a bad time, but I don't know that I'll get many chances to talk to folks when it's—" he veered away from 'calmer'. Too much was happening, too many terrible things to just say calm. "—when there's a quieter moment." Bryan leaned back, started to run a hand through his hair, then caught himself before he knocked his ear open again. "There's trouble all over just now an' I've been thinking... I've been thinking that if we all just go on wandering around, what's gonna happen is that bit by bit, everyone just..." he took a breath, chewing the uncomfortable word. "Dies. Everyone kills each other. It's what happens," he hesitated then plunged on. "I think we gotta try and do something different. Just pull everyone together. Every last person. I know it sounds... big, I know it's a lot, but you get everyone together and even if there are folks wanting to kill, they might think twice. Heck, maybe they're just afraid of what might happen. Maybe they're alone and think killing people's the only way.
"I just think... I think we have to try somethin dramatic like that. Grab all the folks, sit 'em all down, and just, call the bluff. The terrorists want a kill a day, okay, then we don't give it to them, we sit an' say no. And either the thing stalls, gives longer and longer for someone to realised what's happening and comb the ocean for every island they can, or...
"Or... well... ain't it better to go out that way, trying something, actually doing something, instead of just... dying?"
Bryan kept quiet for a few, on account he didn't feel as if another voice was going to do anything helpful. Sometimes, as much as some people would be surprised to hear it, Bryan did actually know how not to jump in when he wasn't needed. The group here weren't actively fighting, there was just some understandable tension, right? He hoped he was reading it right. Nia was obviously struggling and Alexander—could you blame someone, exactly, for not being at their most diplomatic? Yeah.
Hopefully Ashlynn's apology would be taken as an apology, as brusque as it probably could come off. Whew. This was a lot, huh?
Seeing Alex and Nia there together, made a guy think. He'd been so preoccupied about what the low-key ringing in his ears could mean, previously been worried that the hearing might never really come back, and there were two people who had their own permanent disabilities. Heck, Stepney, too. He'd always tried to be considerate, but this all put things in a whole new perspective, didn't it? Darn.
Take a breath. Take a sec. It didn't feel good shrugging off those kinds of thoughts, like he was just ignoring something important, but there were some other things that needed to be front and centre for a few.
"So..." he began after a second. "Sorry if this is a bad time, but I don't know that I'll get many chances to talk to folks when it's—" he veered away from 'calmer'. Too much was happening, too many terrible things to just say calm. "—when there's a quieter moment." Bryan leaned back, started to run a hand through his hair, then caught himself before he knocked his ear open again. "There's trouble all over just now an' I've been thinking... I've been thinking that if we all just go on wandering around, what's gonna happen is that bit by bit, everyone just..." he took a breath, chewing the uncomfortable word. "Dies. Everyone kills each other. It's what happens," he hesitated then plunged on. "I think we gotta try and do something different. Just pull everyone together. Every last person. I know it sounds... big, I know it's a lot, but you get everyone together and even if there are folks wanting to kill, they might think twice. Heck, maybe they're just afraid of what might happen. Maybe they're alone and think killing people's the only way.
"I just think... I think we have to try somethin dramatic like that. Grab all the folks, sit 'em all down, and just, call the bluff. The terrorists want a kill a day, okay, then we don't give it to them, we sit an' say no. And either the thing stalls, gives longer and longer for someone to realised what's happening and comb the ocean for every island they can, or...
"Or... well... ain't it better to go out that way, trying something, actually doing something, instead of just... dying?"
Overwhelming.
Nia had never been fond of crowds. Even ASL Club, on the rare occasions that five or six people bothered to show up, was often too many people for her to comfortably handle socially. Parties generally held no interest to her outside of a baseline curiosity, and that curiosity was not enough to motivate her to attend one even if she theoretically had secured an invite. In general she spent most of the hours in which her actions were of her choosing on her own, whether entirely so or while sating the human need for socialization by chatting with Parker or Stepney or whoever else. As quickly as her priorities, her motivations, her emotions had shifted—the constant threat of imminent death had a way of adjusting one's mind to suit survivability—it was difficult for her to overcome this one basic distaste.
Perhaps, given another group, the problem would not loom so large. But Ashlynn and Bryan both rapidly proved themselves problematic in other ways.
Ashlynn had quickly drawn Alexander's ire in entirely reasonable ways, and frankly she was making absolutely no inroads into fixing that with her response to him. There's no need to be so hostile toward me. She might as well have told him to calm down, or to be patient, or any other stock phrase that never did anything but cause a rapid increase in tensions. Ashlynn had hardly struck her as the most aware person of others' perceptions, necessarily. Her constant attempts to be socially conscious had left her surprisingly awkward and incompetent. Something to work on in another life, she supposed.
It was odd, making these observations still buried in Stepney's chest, him stroking her hair in an uncomfortably intimate way but she couldn't move, still paralyzed by emotion. That emotion had separated itself, though, it had taken over her body while her mind observed from a distance, cool and impatient, hurry up and get on with it. She was still crying, her stomach pulsed hard enough that she thought she might throw up from the weight of it, and it was over things that had already happened, that were already over, that she had no control of. It was a useless waste of time and her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst.
Bryan, then.
She hardly knew where to start.
It must be nice, she thought, to have such a lack of attachment to one's own life to be willing to throw it away on something so moronic and pointless. It must make this all a lot less stressful. She wondered idly if he had some sort of belief system to fall back on, if he was so convinced in the afterlife in his future that his days on earth being numbered didn't frighten him. Or he was simply in denial, or he had realized he had no chance of survival and so it made him feel better to come up with some sort of grand plan to "make a difference" when at best it would prolong the inevitable and at worst it would provoke a massacre.
It didn't really matter. It was the threat of him putting his plan into action that made him dangerous, not the rationale behind it.
Not half as dangerous as Stepney, however.
She pulled away from him, blinking tears rapidly from her eyes. She had dropped her bags; they would have to move quickly, not that she believed any force would be used to stop them. Her limbs quivered and ached, her stomach felt sick, she needed rest, desperately, and she doubted Alexander was much better off, but he would understand.
It was strange, wasn't it? Theoretically Stepney was the better ally. Theoretically she ought to stay with him. Theoretically she ought to abandon Alexander at the first opportunity.
The bonds of trauma were stronger than the bonds of friendship. Perhaps that meant she was broken from the start. It didn't matter.
"CHANGE--MIND," she signed, her mouth in a smile that didn't reach her eyes, not that it mattered, not that he could tell. She rapidly blinked the tears from her eyes, pausing for a moment to wipe them away. "NOT--STAY. NOT--HERE. SORRY. TOO--MANY--PEOPLE. WE--GO. NOT--HERE. SORRY." Babbling as quick as her fingers would allow. "SORRY. SEE--AGAIN? NOT--KNOW. NOT--SAFE--HERE. FIND--HOUSE--WALLS. PLEASE. SAFE. NOT--DIE--PLEASE. UNDERSTAND?"
She glanced at Ashlynn, and then at Bryan, before her eyes lighted on Stepney again.
"GOODBYE."
She did not wait for a response. She hooked her bags back under her arm, hooked her other arm with Alexander's, and then they were gone.
>> She hoped she never saw him again.
Nia had never been fond of crowds. Even ASL Club, on the rare occasions that five or six people bothered to show up, was often too many people for her to comfortably handle socially. Parties generally held no interest to her outside of a baseline curiosity, and that curiosity was not enough to motivate her to attend one even if she theoretically had secured an invite. In general she spent most of the hours in which her actions were of her choosing on her own, whether entirely so or while sating the human need for socialization by chatting with Parker or Stepney or whoever else. As quickly as her priorities, her motivations, her emotions had shifted—the constant threat of imminent death had a way of adjusting one's mind to suit survivability—it was difficult for her to overcome this one basic distaste.
Perhaps, given another group, the problem would not loom so large. But Ashlynn and Bryan both rapidly proved themselves problematic in other ways.
Ashlynn had quickly drawn Alexander's ire in entirely reasonable ways, and frankly she was making absolutely no inroads into fixing that with her response to him. There's no need to be so hostile toward me. She might as well have told him to calm down, or to be patient, or any other stock phrase that never did anything but cause a rapid increase in tensions. Ashlynn had hardly struck her as the most aware person of others' perceptions, necessarily. Her constant attempts to be socially conscious had left her surprisingly awkward and incompetent. Something to work on in another life, she supposed.
It was odd, making these observations still buried in Stepney's chest, him stroking her hair in an uncomfortably intimate way but she couldn't move, still paralyzed by emotion. That emotion had separated itself, though, it had taken over her body while her mind observed from a distance, cool and impatient, hurry up and get on with it. She was still crying, her stomach pulsed hard enough that she thought she might throw up from the weight of it, and it was over things that had already happened, that were already over, that she had no control of. It was a useless waste of time and her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst.
Bryan, then.
She hardly knew where to start.
It must be nice, she thought, to have such a lack of attachment to one's own life to be willing to throw it away on something so moronic and pointless. It must make this all a lot less stressful. She wondered idly if he had some sort of belief system to fall back on, if he was so convinced in the afterlife in his future that his days on earth being numbered didn't frighten him. Or he was simply in denial, or he had realized he had no chance of survival and so it made him feel better to come up with some sort of grand plan to "make a difference" when at best it would prolong the inevitable and at worst it would provoke a massacre.
It didn't really matter. It was the threat of him putting his plan into action that made him dangerous, not the rationale behind it.
Not half as dangerous as Stepney, however.
She pulled away from him, blinking tears rapidly from her eyes. She had dropped her bags; they would have to move quickly, not that she believed any force would be used to stop them. Her limbs quivered and ached, her stomach felt sick, she needed rest, desperately, and she doubted Alexander was much better off, but he would understand.
It was strange, wasn't it? Theoretically Stepney was the better ally. Theoretically she ought to stay with him. Theoretically she ought to abandon Alexander at the first opportunity.
The bonds of trauma were stronger than the bonds of friendship. Perhaps that meant she was broken from the start. It didn't matter.
"CHANGE--MIND," she signed, her mouth in a smile that didn't reach her eyes, not that it mattered, not that he could tell. She rapidly blinked the tears from her eyes, pausing for a moment to wipe them away. "NOT--STAY. NOT--HERE. SORRY. TOO--MANY--PEOPLE. WE--GO. NOT--HERE. SORRY." Babbling as quick as her fingers would allow. "SORRY. SEE--AGAIN? NOT--KNOW. NOT--SAFE--HERE. FIND--HOUSE--WALLS. PLEASE. SAFE. NOT--DIE--PLEASE. UNDERSTAND?"
She glanced at Ashlynn, and then at Bryan, before her eyes lighted on Stepney again.
"GOODBYE."
She did not wait for a response. She hooked her bags back under her arm, hooked her other arm with Alexander's, and then they were gone.
>> She hoped she never saw him again.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Nia was crying again, a jagged sound Alexander would never get used to, reopening wounds in his psyche that hadn't even had time to coagulate. What right did he have to throw a tantrum when Nia's grief was personal, raw? He was glad to hear Stepney murmuring something soft and indistinctly comforting to her. Maybe he'd succeed at providing a warm touch where Alexander had failed.
Stepney also saw fit to give Alexander a small rebuke for his words, which drained him of any remaining irritation he had held, leaving him tired and slightly ashamed. Only slightly, because shame was a vestigial emotion in their new world, however much he would have ordinarily cursed at himself for snapping at someone and breaking decorum. Old habits were hard to break, but it was getting easier all the time.
So. The girl's name was Ashlynn! Wonderful! Alexander was certain that he'd forget it by the next day, and be none the lesser for it, but for the hopefully brief time being, he supposed he was glad she had finally deigned to answer his simple question!
Her response still irked him, but he tried not to let it show. She was somewhat correct in that she had done little personally to deserve the full brunt of his venom, but. She hadn't forgotten where they were, had she? She obviously hadn't seen anyone get killed before her eyes, but did the collar on her neck already feel like just another part of her body? Not a reminder that she could get killed by anyone, anywhere, at any time?
Sure, she offered to share supplies with them, but even if she was telling the truth, that absolved her of nothing. It was a wonderful gesture that marked her as an idiot who wouldn't survive past the halfway mark. Not the sort of person they'd want to make any form of alliance with. Alexander only regretted that they wouldn't be able to rob her before she freely gave her belongings to another stranger in need.
Thankfully, Brian's impromptu dissertation on the inherent goodness of man or something along those lines gave Alexander a perfect excuse not to think of anything civil to say.
Ashlynn was, at best, a kind fool. Brian was an idealist. Normally that would make him dangerous, but his grand-sounding plan ultimately amounted to laying down and giving up; just with the rest of the student body for company. Not an ambition Alexander could respect.
"No. It isn't better," he said. "The only meaningful thing we have the power to accomplish on this island is making it out alive - by winning. You think any token gesture of resistance will matter, a year from now? Even a month? If you get exactly what you're hoping for, force our captors to click the detonator themselves, do you really think that'd stop them from doing this again?"
Nia tugged at him. Time to go. Alexander wasn't going to change anybody's mind, nor did he particularly care to. ""Well. Regardless. Good luck to you all," he called over his shoulder as they left.
(("I hope we never meet again."))
Stepney also saw fit to give Alexander a small rebuke for his words, which drained him of any remaining irritation he had held, leaving him tired and slightly ashamed. Only slightly, because shame was a vestigial emotion in their new world, however much he would have ordinarily cursed at himself for snapping at someone and breaking decorum. Old habits were hard to break, but it was getting easier all the time.
So. The girl's name was Ashlynn! Wonderful! Alexander was certain that he'd forget it by the next day, and be none the lesser for it, but for the hopefully brief time being, he supposed he was glad she had finally deigned to answer his simple question!
Her response still irked him, but he tried not to let it show. She was somewhat correct in that she had done little personally to deserve the full brunt of his venom, but. She hadn't forgotten where they were, had she? She obviously hadn't seen anyone get killed before her eyes, but did the collar on her neck already feel like just another part of her body? Not a reminder that she could get killed by anyone, anywhere, at any time?
Sure, she offered to share supplies with them, but even if she was telling the truth, that absolved her of nothing. It was a wonderful gesture that marked her as an idiot who wouldn't survive past the halfway mark. Not the sort of person they'd want to make any form of alliance with. Alexander only regretted that they wouldn't be able to rob her before she freely gave her belongings to another stranger in need.
Thankfully, Brian's impromptu dissertation on the inherent goodness of man or something along those lines gave Alexander a perfect excuse not to think of anything civil to say.
Ashlynn was, at best, a kind fool. Brian was an idealist. Normally that would make him dangerous, but his grand-sounding plan ultimately amounted to laying down and giving up; just with the rest of the student body for company. Not an ambition Alexander could respect.
"No. It isn't better," he said. "The only meaningful thing we have the power to accomplish on this island is making it out alive - by winning. You think any token gesture of resistance will matter, a year from now? Even a month? If you get exactly what you're hoping for, force our captors to click the detonator themselves, do you really think that'd stop them from doing this again?"
Nia tugged at him. Time to go. Alexander wasn't going to change anybody's mind, nor did he particularly care to. ""Well. Regardless. Good luck to you all," he called over his shoulder as they left.
(("I hope we never meet again."))
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
Thankfully, Alexander didn't take her up on her offer. Thankfully, his selfish and defeatist philosophy did not manifest in a hypocritical way, and he did not insist on help despite his complete lack of faith in even the point of resistance. Ashlynn had shown, to them all, her willingness to make proportionate and pragmatic sacrifices, but in hindsight, the opportunity cost of helping Alexander - who seemed so harsh and insensitive and, perhaps justifiably, without any trace of decency left - was prohibitive. Ashlynn had already been rationing her own supplies, a concession to the legacy of the late and little-missed Toby, so perhaps it was best, in hindsight, to save her charity for those who could then go on to help others. An effective altruism sort of philosophy.
And so he fucked off, and - making sure that none of her allies could see it, holding her hand against her chest - she flipped him the bird all while he gave his patronising stereotypical nihilistic bullshit spiel.
"Good luck," Ashlynn called out as they left. "Take care." She bit her tongue, wanting to add 'Nia' to the end of that, but she knew, despite butting heads with him, that Alexander deserved luck too. They had both been struggling. They deserved compassion. "Sorry it didn't work out," she reiterated, sincerely. Cooperation would have been the ideal. But alas, it was not to be.
Once they were alone again, they could turn their attention to nicer things.
"Alexander's an idiot," Ashlynn replied, with a shrug. "Well, he's wrong. He's wrong to describe what we're doing as some token act of resistance and...well, even if he wasn't,
She saw no reason to insult Nia. She had made her choice. Decided to ally with someone completely without any sense of purpose, with a self-professed desire to win the game, and for someone in...Alex's position, who so desperately needed help, promoting the spread of that ideology seemed incredibly self-defeating. Like a Midwestern farmer or an impoverished Appalachian who voted Republican, Alex was openly promoting a worldview that would lead to him being definitely dead. And Nia wanted to hang out with that? Sure. It sucked, she seemed okay, but she also seemed rather...distraught, at being caught in such a vibrant group. Ashlynn had to respect that wish. Just that...well, it would have been best if Stepney had stayed with her and Alex had decided to go hide under a rock or something while other people did all the rescuing. The best outcome, but people should be free to make mistakes, she supposed.
"You're right, though, Bryan. It was exactly what I was thinking. They want us to resort to barbarism. We need to...fight back with civilisation, I suppose."
((Ashlynn Martinek continued in A Tragic Flaw.))
And so he fucked off, and - making sure that none of her allies could see it, holding her hand against her chest - she flipped him the bird all while he gave his patronising stereotypical nihilistic bullshit spiel.
"Good luck," Ashlynn called out as they left. "Take care." She bit her tongue, wanting to add 'Nia' to the end of that, but she knew, despite butting heads with him, that Alexander deserved luck too. They had both been struggling. They deserved compassion. "Sorry it didn't work out," she reiterated, sincerely. Cooperation would have been the ideal. But alas, it was not to be.
Once they were alone again, they could turn their attention to nicer things.
"Alexander's an idiot," Ashlynn replied, with a shrug. "Well, he's wrong. He's wrong to describe what we're doing as some token act of resistance and...well, even if he wasn't,
She saw no reason to insult Nia. She had made her choice. Decided to ally with someone completely without any sense of purpose, with a self-professed desire to win the game, and for someone in...Alex's position, who so desperately needed help, promoting the spread of that ideology seemed incredibly self-defeating. Like a Midwestern farmer or an impoverished Appalachian who voted Republican, Alex was openly promoting a worldview that would lead to him being definitely dead. And Nia wanted to hang out with that? Sure. It sucked, she seemed okay, but she also seemed rather...distraught, at being caught in such a vibrant group. Ashlynn had to respect that wish. Just that...well, it would have been best if Stepney had stayed with her and Alex had decided to go hide under a rock or something while other people did all the rescuing. The best outcome, but people should be free to make mistakes, she supposed.
"You're right, though, Bryan. It was exactly what I was thinking. They want us to resort to barbarism. We need to...fight back with civilisation, I suppose."
((Ashlynn Martinek continued in A Tragic Flaw.))
He supposed, by now, he should be used to everything changing on the flip of a coin, or the turn of a card.
Alexander and Ashlynn clearly weren’t gonna be sending each other Christmas cards, the way they were acting, but it seemed more like a straightforward clash of personalities and experiences, rather than anything more than that. The sorta dumb, petty verbal scuffle you’d get into when two people on a group project had different visions for their super important presentation. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to witness, but neither Nia being this upset, so A&A were just gonna have to put on their ‘Get Along’ sweater and play nice as they all stuck it out together.
And then, all of a sudden, Nia had broken away and started frantically signing, words intended for him and him alone. She stumbled over her own fingers, if such a thing was even possible, words coming out so fast that Stepney could only just keep up, several of them slipping through the cracks. He managed to catch the most important stuff, though. “Too many people”. “Maybe see you again somewhere else”. “Don’t die”.
Then there was just enough time for Alexander to rebuke Brian’s grand scheme before he and Nia were on their way again, the only signs they’d ever been to the eastern block of housing being the tear stains on Stepney’s shirt.
“Wait, hold up… hey, Nia!”
It all made sense, really, except that it didn’t. On the surface, sure, it all looked like it slotted in nicely with the facts he knew about Nia. She really did hate crowds, after all; the core group of three within the ASL club was the absolute maximum amount of people she liked hanging out with. Any more, and she started getting visibly antsy. But just moments before, she’d been practically begging Stepney to let her and Alex stay with them. Nia had always been jet-fuelled with logic, rather than emotion, and this didn’t make any logical sense as far as he could see.
“Nia! Nia!!”
But as Nia vanished into the horizon, arm-in-arm with Alexander, either ignoring what he was yelling or desperately trying to ignore it, he had to ask himself something; wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? For everyone he was so close to to just disappear? To vanish and split away from him so that he could pretend they’d stopped existing, to block out the announcements whenever they came around? To make sure he didn’t have to care anymore?
He didn’t agree with Bryan’s plan one tiny bit, either. Doing what he suggested wasn’t gonna be some grand middle finger to the terrorists like he seemed to think it would be. It would barely be them doing something, either. It would still be them dying. Just in one big group, all at once, either when they tried to rope in some opportunistic player with a machine gun, or when the terrorists just shrugged and popped everybody’s collars. And if the latter happened?
Give ‘em a few months and no doubt they’d have their eyes on a different school, ready to run this whole thing over again.
He walked silently between Bryan and Ashlynn as she talked at him, moving over to Bichael. Best thing to do in this situation would be to let ‘em both know he wasn’t onboard with their plan, but that he wished them both luck and hoped that it somehow all panned out. The last thing he should be doing was thinking about Nia. He should definitely not be thinking about guilty he’d be if he let her go off as distraught and terrified as she’d seemed.
Goddamnit, he was thinking about it, and the answer was staring him in the face no matter how many times he turned away.
He sighed, shook his head, then grabbed Bichael’s handlebars and started wheeling it out of the remnants of the house. He didn’t care enough about everybody in his class to try and save them all, but he cared a lot, possibly too much, about a select few, and was he about to sacrifice his best chance of escape just to make sure those people were all right on their last few days on earth?
Figure that one out for yourself, this one was a freebie.
“Hey, uh…” Stepney started speaking. He started to recite that lie, that he wasn’t onboard with the plan and that he was just going to go it alone for a while, but stopped almost immediately. He couldn’t bring himself to put on a face, not right now.
“Sorry to rain on your parade but I… can’t stick around. I need to find Nia, I’ve gotta make sure she’s okay. I’ll be fine, I’ve survived worse scares than this. I’ll see you around no doubt.”
Promises, promises.
“You take care now, okay? Any luck, we’ll all be hanging out back in America next week.”
A weak smile, and he was off, walking as fast as he could with a bike rolling besides him, hoping against hope that he could catch up with Nia and Alex.
((Stepney Cruz continued in I am the inferno in which heroes are born))
Alexander and Ashlynn clearly weren’t gonna be sending each other Christmas cards, the way they were acting, but it seemed more like a straightforward clash of personalities and experiences, rather than anything more than that. The sorta dumb, petty verbal scuffle you’d get into when two people on a group project had different visions for their super important presentation. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to witness, but neither Nia being this upset, so A&A were just gonna have to put on their ‘Get Along’ sweater and play nice as they all stuck it out together.
And then, all of a sudden, Nia had broken away and started frantically signing, words intended for him and him alone. She stumbled over her own fingers, if such a thing was even possible, words coming out so fast that Stepney could only just keep up, several of them slipping through the cracks. He managed to catch the most important stuff, though. “Too many people”. “Maybe see you again somewhere else”. “Don’t die”.
Then there was just enough time for Alexander to rebuke Brian’s grand scheme before he and Nia were on their way again, the only signs they’d ever been to the eastern block of housing being the tear stains on Stepney’s shirt.
“Wait, hold up… hey, Nia!”
It all made sense, really, except that it didn’t. On the surface, sure, it all looked like it slotted in nicely with the facts he knew about Nia. She really did hate crowds, after all; the core group of three within the ASL club was the absolute maximum amount of people she liked hanging out with. Any more, and she started getting visibly antsy. But just moments before, she’d been practically begging Stepney to let her and Alex stay with them. Nia had always been jet-fuelled with logic, rather than emotion, and this didn’t make any logical sense as far as he could see.
“Nia! Nia!!”
But as Nia vanished into the horizon, arm-in-arm with Alexander, either ignoring what he was yelling or desperately trying to ignore it, he had to ask himself something; wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? For everyone he was so close to to just disappear? To vanish and split away from him so that he could pretend they’d stopped existing, to block out the announcements whenever they came around? To make sure he didn’t have to care anymore?
He didn’t agree with Bryan’s plan one tiny bit, either. Doing what he suggested wasn’t gonna be some grand middle finger to the terrorists like he seemed to think it would be. It would barely be them doing something, either. It would still be them dying. Just in one big group, all at once, either when they tried to rope in some opportunistic player with a machine gun, or when the terrorists just shrugged and popped everybody’s collars. And if the latter happened?
Give ‘em a few months and no doubt they’d have their eyes on a different school, ready to run this whole thing over again.
He walked silently between Bryan and Ashlynn as she talked at him, moving over to Bichael. Best thing to do in this situation would be to let ‘em both know he wasn’t onboard with their plan, but that he wished them both luck and hoped that it somehow all panned out. The last thing he should be doing was thinking about Nia. He should definitely not be thinking about guilty he’d be if he let her go off as distraught and terrified as she’d seemed.
Goddamnit, he was thinking about it, and the answer was staring him in the face no matter how many times he turned away.
He sighed, shook his head, then grabbed Bichael’s handlebars and started wheeling it out of the remnants of the house. He didn’t care enough about everybody in his class to try and save them all, but he cared a lot, possibly too much, about a select few, and was he about to sacrifice his best chance of escape just to make sure those people were all right on their last few days on earth?
Figure that one out for yourself, this one was a freebie.
“Hey, uh…” Stepney started speaking. He started to recite that lie, that he wasn’t onboard with the plan and that he was just going to go it alone for a while, but stopped almost immediately. He couldn’t bring himself to put on a face, not right now.
“Sorry to rain on your parade but I… can’t stick around. I need to find Nia, I’ve gotta make sure she’s okay. I’ll be fine, I’ve survived worse scares than this. I’ll see you around no doubt.”
Promises, promises.
“You take care now, okay? Any luck, we’ll all be hanging out back in America next week.”
A weak smile, and he was off, walking as fast as he could with a bike rolling besides him, hoping against hope that he could catch up with Nia and Alex.
((Stepney Cruz continued in I am the inferno in which heroes are born))
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Bryan couldn't lie, the reaction he got kind of hurt. Okay he got it. People were going to die here. His idea had an endgame of dying nine times out of ten, heck, call it ninety-nine times out of a hundred. But what about that one? What about the chance, however small it was, that things worked out? What was worse about almost definitely dying trying to make a difference, trying to hold onto some darn morals, than almost definitely dying while turning into murderers?
It did matter. It did make a difference. That was why there were stories about heroes in the middle of big tragedies. Humans doing amazing things, people risking their lives for strangers. It mattered. The cynicism hurt.
"I think you and I got different definitions of meaningful, Alex." He settled on saying, and left it that way. Forcing the issue wasn't going to help any; maybe once they got some more people in on it? That'd give any offer more weight. Thing with ideas like this, they needed momentum, get the ball rolling downhill. Once the group hit a certain size, it'd be easier and easier to convince other people to join in.
He couldn't get dispirited. There would be setbacks, walking this road. People would turn him down. People would react like Alex had. He had to be persistent. Battle on through. You didn't change people's mind in a day.
Bryan nodded to Stepney, understanding why he had to do what he felt he had to do, then turned to Ashlynn and beamed. One person in, another hundred and something to go.
"All right... then let's get started."
((Bryan continued in Setbacks))
It did matter. It did make a difference. That was why there were stories about heroes in the middle of big tragedies. Humans doing amazing things, people risking their lives for strangers. It mattered. The cynicism hurt.
"I think you and I got different definitions of meaningful, Alex." He settled on saying, and left it that way. Forcing the issue wasn't going to help any; maybe once they got some more people in on it? That'd give any offer more weight. Thing with ideas like this, they needed momentum, get the ball rolling downhill. Once the group hit a certain size, it'd be easier and easier to convince other people to join in.
He couldn't get dispirited. There would be setbacks, walking this road. People would turn him down. People would react like Alex had. He had to be persistent. Battle on through. You didn't change people's mind in a day.
Bryan nodded to Stepney, understanding why he had to do what he felt he had to do, then turned to Ashlynn and beamed. One person in, another hundred and something to go.
"All right... then let's get started."
((Bryan continued in Setbacks))