Hearing came back.
Heard Amber beg them to fucking stop.
Heard Parker wince in pain.
Heard the gunshot. Heard it tear into Johnny's shoulder, a pain like no other.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Shotgun too far away. Can't grab it.
Fuck.
Fuck.
((He kicked Parker and limped away with his tail between his legs.))
The Finders Keepers Fallacy & Other War Profiteering Parables
Day 5 - noonish, open once Frozen gets in but PMs before entering would be appreciated!
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 533
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Parker didn't have time to even see if Blaise had the good grace to at least look embarrassed, his world instantly sent into a blur of motion as soon as the words had left his lips, shifting from gravel to sky, to both in equal measures as he came to rest on his side in a crumpled heap. His head bounced off of the floor, and he closed his eyes tightly as the stars sent through his only recently unblurred vision made him feel like he was going to vomit.
He wrenched them open half a second later, adrenaline fighting the sluggishness of his brain, as the sky and gravel were cut into by two pillars. Quickly confirmed to be a pair of legs as he flicked his eyes upwards and saw Johnny now, staggering to his feet. On top. Parker's eyes scrambled, looking for the spot of black cutting into his vision that would be the gun, but it didn't look like it was there. Where was it. His right arm swung out, running along the ground, hoping to bump into it as he turned his gaze back to him. His fingers met air. Saw the anger in his eyes, as he looked down at him, almost surely processing the same question as Parker was.
How was Johnny going to attack him?
Then, another shot, the high pitched crack of a rifle shot. The pillars in front of him shifted, one foot drifting backwards in a stumble, as he dropped into a crouch. A foot came forwards, slamming into his stomach, and curling him up around the point of impact. His hands flailed wildly, trying to grab a hold of his trousers, his foot, to drag him down to the ground with him - But it slipped through his grasp.
Parker stayed there, head resting against the gravel, as he panted. Watching as the boy ran, ducking into the wilderness around the thin gravel path that snaked its way up the hill, and becoming another indistinguishable spot of moving bush amongst a hundred others as the wind ripped across the island.
It took a few seconds before his head titled upwards, and his arm began to move around again, taking a wider and slower arc now. His fingers bumped against rubber, and with a groan of effort he reached for it, pulling the pistol grip towards himself. It only took a few more seconds for him to tenatively reach out with his left hand as well, bracing himself against the ground as he winced at the fire travelling across his back, shoving the barrel of the shotgun into the ground as he used it for leverage to push himself into a standing position.
He swayed slightly, and blinked, as his eyes struggled to focus without his glasses. He could taste copper and iron heavily in the back of his throat, and the rest of his mouth tasted like dust. He spat on the ground to try and get ride of it, his saliva mixing with the blood and gravel in his mouth to form an ugly looking yellow foam, that only made him grimace in disgust. The taste clung to his senses.
He looked back up at Blaise.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked, barely managing to avoid slurring his words, his drained voice only carrying a hint of the indignation he felt.
He wrenched them open half a second later, adrenaline fighting the sluggishness of his brain, as the sky and gravel were cut into by two pillars. Quickly confirmed to be a pair of legs as he flicked his eyes upwards and saw Johnny now, staggering to his feet. On top. Parker's eyes scrambled, looking for the spot of black cutting into his vision that would be the gun, but it didn't look like it was there. Where was it. His right arm swung out, running along the ground, hoping to bump into it as he turned his gaze back to him. His fingers met air. Saw the anger in his eyes, as he looked down at him, almost surely processing the same question as Parker was.
How was Johnny going to attack him?
Then, another shot, the high pitched crack of a rifle shot. The pillars in front of him shifted, one foot drifting backwards in a stumble, as he dropped into a crouch. A foot came forwards, slamming into his stomach, and curling him up around the point of impact. His hands flailed wildly, trying to grab a hold of his trousers, his foot, to drag him down to the ground with him - But it slipped through his grasp.
Parker stayed there, head resting against the gravel, as he panted. Watching as the boy ran, ducking into the wilderness around the thin gravel path that snaked its way up the hill, and becoming another indistinguishable spot of moving bush amongst a hundred others as the wind ripped across the island.
It took a few seconds before his head titled upwards, and his arm began to move around again, taking a wider and slower arc now. His fingers bumped against rubber, and with a groan of effort he reached for it, pulling the pistol grip towards himself. It only took a few more seconds for him to tenatively reach out with his left hand as well, bracing himself against the ground as he winced at the fire travelling across his back, shoving the barrel of the shotgun into the ground as he used it for leverage to push himself into a standing position.
He swayed slightly, and blinked, as his eyes struggled to focus without his glasses. He could taste copper and iron heavily in the back of his throat, and the rest of his mouth tasted like dust. He spat on the ground to try and get ride of it, his saliva mixing with the blood and gravel in his mouth to form an ugly looking yellow foam, that only made him grimace in disgust. The taste clung to his senses.
He looked back up at Blaise.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked, barely managing to avoid slurring his words, his drained voice only carrying a hint of the indignation he felt.
Criticism or thoughts on my writing are welcome and appreciated - always looking to improve! Feel free to poke me on Discord or via PM.
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VoltTurtle
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The second gunshot wasn't as loud as the first one, given Amber's increased distance, but the sound still pricked her ears with pain. All in all, this outcome was definitely not what she wanted. She was speechless, her mouth slightly agape, her expression utterly horrified and upset. Blaise had ended the fight like she had asked, by shooting Johnny. Sure, the fisticuffs had stopped, but all she had really wanted was for them to stop hurting each other, and for nobody else to get hurt in the process.
...In hindsight, that was a very poor choice of words.
Was Johnny going to even be okay? He had escaped after Blaise had shot him, but she hadn't been able to see where he had actually been shot. She just heard the awful crack of the gunshot and saw the gruesome spray of blood, leaving Johnny's ultimate fate out in the wilderness inconclusive. His prognosis wasn't good regardless of where he had been shot, she knew that those injuries weren't so easy to shrug off or deal with, despite what so many action movies had led her to believe.
Besides her concern for Johnny, this display of violence had reignited her fear all over again. While Blaise had initially seemed only slightly less reasonable than the other person that had pointed a gun at her today, they were obviously still more than willing to kill if they thought it was convenient. Her initial observation of Blaise as a wild card had been proven correct in the worst possible way, and now Blaise's behavior going forward was still up in the air. They hadn't fired again at the still remaining Parker, but she had no idea if that could change in the next few minutes. For all she knew, she could be inadvertently playing witness to not just one murder, but two.
She knew in the pit of her stomach that she had to do something, stop any more violence from occurring. She knew it was a bad idea and that if she tried, she would be doing so with no plan whatsoever, but she couldn't just sit by and willingly allow people to get hurt. That just wasn't in her nature.
Amber was terrified at the idea of trying to talk sense with an armed and possibly deranged person, of course she was, but if she was going to do anything she would have to be courageous. Steeling her nerves and swallowing her fear, she began approaching the group again, more slowly than she had run away.
She wasn't afraid of dying, at least not on any rational level. She knew from the moment she had woken up here that she was going to die in this place, eventually. Only one person out of everyone was going to make it out, and she didn't even want to be that person. What was the point when almost everyone she knew and loved was dead? How could she possibly hope to cope with the survivor's guilt? It was fate for her to die here, plain and simple. Of course she didn't actively want to die, even if she had felt that way in the past, but ultimately she knew there was no fighting the inevitable, so why be afraid of it?
Amber maybe you're right, but that doesn't mean you need to put yourself at risk here.
I don't need to, but if I can make sure no more violence happens, then I have to try. I stopped Paloma before, sorta, so maybe I can stop this.
As she began to finally close the gap, she took note of Parker's axe, and the shotgun on the ground. If Blaise did wind up getting violent, at least they would have the numbers advantage in melee. She didn't want to ultimately come to blows, however, and would prefer for this whole mess to be resolved without any more violence being necessary. It was possible that this wouldn't go the way she wanted it to—in fact, it was almost certainly not going to go the way she wanted it to—and she was walking directly into the jaws of a beast, but it was too late now.
Parker stole the words right out of her mouth with his question. Playing it as cool as she could, given the situation, she echoed his sentiment. "Yeah, what he said." An invisible wave of worry passed over her as the words left her lips, and she felt compelled to soften her agreement, just a bit. "If you don't mind explaining."
...In hindsight, that was a very poor choice of words.
Was Johnny going to even be okay? He had escaped after Blaise had shot him, but she hadn't been able to see where he had actually been shot. She just heard the awful crack of the gunshot and saw the gruesome spray of blood, leaving Johnny's ultimate fate out in the wilderness inconclusive. His prognosis wasn't good regardless of where he had been shot, she knew that those injuries weren't so easy to shrug off or deal with, despite what so many action movies had led her to believe.
Besides her concern for Johnny, this display of violence had reignited her fear all over again. While Blaise had initially seemed only slightly less reasonable than the other person that had pointed a gun at her today, they were obviously still more than willing to kill if they thought it was convenient. Her initial observation of Blaise as a wild card had been proven correct in the worst possible way, and now Blaise's behavior going forward was still up in the air. They hadn't fired again at the still remaining Parker, but she had no idea if that could change in the next few minutes. For all she knew, she could be inadvertently playing witness to not just one murder, but two.
She knew in the pit of her stomach that she had to do something, stop any more violence from occurring. She knew it was a bad idea and that if she tried, she would be doing so with no plan whatsoever, but she couldn't just sit by and willingly allow people to get hurt. That just wasn't in her nature.
Amber was terrified at the idea of trying to talk sense with an armed and possibly deranged person, of course she was, but if she was going to do anything she would have to be courageous. Steeling her nerves and swallowing her fear, she began approaching the group again, more slowly than she had run away.
She wasn't afraid of dying, at least not on any rational level. She knew from the moment she had woken up here that she was going to die in this place, eventually. Only one person out of everyone was going to make it out, and she didn't even want to be that person. What was the point when almost everyone she knew and loved was dead? How could she possibly hope to cope with the survivor's guilt? It was fate for her to die here, plain and simple. Of course she didn't actively want to die, even if she had felt that way in the past, but ultimately she knew there was no fighting the inevitable, so why be afraid of it?
Amber maybe you're right, but that doesn't mean you need to put yourself at risk here.
I don't need to, but if I can make sure no more violence happens, then I have to try. I stopped Paloma before, sorta, so maybe I can stop this.
As she began to finally close the gap, she took note of Parker's axe, and the shotgun on the ground. If Blaise did wind up getting violent, at least they would have the numbers advantage in melee. She didn't want to ultimately come to blows, however, and would prefer for this whole mess to be resolved without any more violence being necessary. It was possible that this wouldn't go the way she wanted it to—in fact, it was almost certainly not going to go the way she wanted it to—and she was walking directly into the jaws of a beast, but it was too late now.
Parker stole the words right out of her mouth with his question. Playing it as cool as she could, given the situation, she echoed his sentiment. "Yeah, what he said." An invisible wave of worry passed over her as the words left her lips, and she felt compelled to soften her agreement, just a bit. "If you don't mind explaining."
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Emprexx Plush
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Perhaps it was the ringing of discharged firearms in their ears? Some distortion brought on by the trauma of injury? Days of idle ineffectiveness surrounded by a life of what could be characterized as brutal efficiency, or shock that when presented with a statistically certain high hand they offered him a fold? There was undoubtedly some explanation for why Parker's rasp was not positively dripping in gratitude for sparing, saving, and enriching his life. Now if Blaise were to indulge him, and to their fault they often did, there was the matter of his injury. They were not unsympathetic but...well, the other one had run off with worse, hadn't he? It wouldn't be a shocked to hear he'd passed by morning. What damage Parker had managed was on his own account, and supposing it wasn't it would only balance their scales. If he hadn't done worse to them already in a singular instance the fantasy must have crosses his mind, and in the cumulative sense they were more than even as far as Blaise was concerned.
Mm. Regrettable they lacked time and facility to dwell in that space. It would not be so terrible to be distracted with a creative loss.
Blaise cocked their left eyebrow and opened their mouth to answer before a less entitled party added her concerns. Unwelcome? Practically yes, but the more Amber spoke the more Blaise regretted they did not spend more time together. It was unclear if she had suffered some sort of psychotic break that inoculated her to the events around her, or if she was just like this, but her manner amused them. She approached an attempted murder with the sort of coat-tailing one might have seconded curiosity bordering on incredulity over a brazen selection of accessories at a dance. Refreshing, don't you think, after all the righteous but spineless hand-wringing they had been subjected to recently? Well, the answer to their questions was not so complicated. "That," Blaise began with a gesture in the direction of Johnny's departure and a foot planted on his shotgun, "was a man who inconvenienced me, so I shot him. It is not so uncommon. Now, the walking away..." Their free hand wobbled back and forth with an uncertain sound from the back of their throat. "Less common, but not displeasing." With a shrug they returned their gaze to Parker. "Are you dying, or may we go?"
Mm. Regrettable they lacked time and facility to dwell in that space. It would not be so terrible to be distracted with a creative loss.
Blaise cocked their left eyebrow and opened their mouth to answer before a less entitled party added her concerns. Unwelcome? Practically yes, but the more Amber spoke the more Blaise regretted they did not spend more time together. It was unclear if she had suffered some sort of psychotic break that inoculated her to the events around her, or if she was just like this, but her manner amused them. She approached an attempted murder with the sort of coat-tailing one might have seconded curiosity bordering on incredulity over a brazen selection of accessories at a dance. Refreshing, don't you think, after all the righteous but spineless hand-wringing they had been subjected to recently? Well, the answer to their questions was not so complicated. "That," Blaise began with a gesture in the direction of Johnny's departure and a foot planted on his shotgun, "was a man who inconvenienced me, so I shot him. It is not so uncommon. Now, the walking away..." Their free hand wobbled back and forth with an uncertain sound from the back of their throat. "Less common, but not displeasing." With a shrug they returned their gaze to Parker. "Are you dying, or may we go?"
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 533
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Parker's eyes tracked back and forth between the two of them for a moment, silently adding the tactical sin of revealing that they were friendly to someone who clearly wasn't aware of that fact to the list of many others, all of which sat under the greater strategic sin of unnecessarily risking both of their lives.
But now was not the time to share such observations. No. That would be best suited for a time when they had less company, less weapons in arms reach, and - more importantly - when he had less need for medical assistance from them in the near future.
He adjusted his posture, standing properly upright now, wincing noticeably as the straightening of his back sent layers of clothing rubbing against the wound on his side. His grip on the shotgun moved too, fingers wrapping around the top half of the receiver rather than the pistol grip, so that he could hold it parallel to the ground by his side. Taking a shooting grip on it was out of the question. He kept his left arm pinned to his side, motionless, as not to disturb whatever miracle had left him without blood pouring down his back.
Blaise's answer was, at least, straight forward. A rarity for them. Their question was equally simple, but one he couldn't exactly answer, given he couldn't even see the part of his body that still felt like it was on fire. That wasn't exactly a comforting realisation. But, thankfully, the question Blaise was really asking was not about his long term health - But about his short term capability.
"I can walk." he answered tersely.
Parker's attention then turned to the other matter at hand.
"What are you planning to do about her?" he asked, his tone inscrutable.
But now was not the time to share such observations. No. That would be best suited for a time when they had less company, less weapons in arms reach, and - more importantly - when he had less need for medical assistance from them in the near future.
He adjusted his posture, standing properly upright now, wincing noticeably as the straightening of his back sent layers of clothing rubbing against the wound on his side. His grip on the shotgun moved too, fingers wrapping around the top half of the receiver rather than the pistol grip, so that he could hold it parallel to the ground by his side. Taking a shooting grip on it was out of the question. He kept his left arm pinned to his side, motionless, as not to disturb whatever miracle had left him without blood pouring down his back.
Blaise's answer was, at least, straight forward. A rarity for them. Their question was equally simple, but one he couldn't exactly answer, given he couldn't even see the part of his body that still felt like it was on fire. That wasn't exactly a comforting realisation. But, thankfully, the question Blaise was really asking was not about his long term health - But about his short term capability.
"I can walk." he answered tersely.
Parker's attention then turned to the other matter at hand.
"What are you planning to do about her?" he asked, his tone inscrutable.
Criticism or thoughts on my writing are welcome and appreciated - always looking to improve! Feel free to poke me on Discord or via PM.
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
You know I have said this a lot in the last few days, but this time I really, really mean it.
I have made a terrible mistake.
There were many idioms that could be used to describe Amber's current predicament. She was in a pickle, stuck in a Catch-22, caught between a rock and a hard place, up shit creek without a paddle. Parker as it turned out was on Blaise's side and not hers, a fact that should have perhaps been obvious to her given his behavior up to this point, but Amber wasn't exactly known for her observational skills. Now because of her poor planning she was stuck with an impossible dilemma. She needed to get out of here before Parker's or Blaise's respective whims led them to decide she was better dead than alive.
Unfortunately however, running away wouldn't exactly be easy. She was fairly fast on her feet, courtesy of her soccer playing, but if she took off, either of them could easily opt to take a few pot shots at her, and if she was lucky she might walk away with just a single gunshot wound in the process, like Johnny. Given the fact that she possibly already got lucky today, she didn't want to take the extra risk.
The alternative was playing it cool until she saw an opening to book it out of here, but Parker's word choice didn't exactly help with that. She had seen enough movies to know that asking what someone is going to do "about" someone else was a veiled threat, at best.
She felt the panic building up in her chest, but now was the time to keep calm, and not let it show. The last thing she wanted was for Blaise to see her as a potential inconvenience, and yet another emotional outburst in the span of a few minutes would not do her any favors. She could keep the facade of serenity up, at least for long enough to get a comfortable distance away. She was good at keeping her emotions hidden from others when she had to, she had years of experience doing it with her parents and most of her peers, after all.
She had to think, perhaps there was some use she could have to them?
Maybe you could offer to help Parker with his injuries? His demeanor suggests that he was hurt when he was fighting Johnny.
Good idea.
"Weeeeeeell," she began, holding that word as she tried to figure out exactly what else she was going to say. "I dunno what they want to do, but I came over to make sure everyone was okay."
She turned her attention towards Parker, seeing him as the more reasonable of the two. "I can tell you're hurt. I'm not like, an expert or anything on first aid, but I could help patch you up, I think?"
I have made a terrible mistake.
There were many idioms that could be used to describe Amber's current predicament. She was in a pickle, stuck in a Catch-22, caught between a rock and a hard place, up shit creek without a paddle. Parker as it turned out was on Blaise's side and not hers, a fact that should have perhaps been obvious to her given his behavior up to this point, but Amber wasn't exactly known for her observational skills. Now because of her poor planning she was stuck with an impossible dilemma. She needed to get out of here before Parker's or Blaise's respective whims led them to decide she was better dead than alive.
Unfortunately however, running away wouldn't exactly be easy. She was fairly fast on her feet, courtesy of her soccer playing, but if she took off, either of them could easily opt to take a few pot shots at her, and if she was lucky she might walk away with just a single gunshot wound in the process, like Johnny. Given the fact that she possibly already got lucky today, she didn't want to take the extra risk.
The alternative was playing it cool until she saw an opening to book it out of here, but Parker's word choice didn't exactly help with that. She had seen enough movies to know that asking what someone is going to do "about" someone else was a veiled threat, at best.
She felt the panic building up in her chest, but now was the time to keep calm, and not let it show. The last thing she wanted was for Blaise to see her as a potential inconvenience, and yet another emotional outburst in the span of a few minutes would not do her any favors. She could keep the facade of serenity up, at least for long enough to get a comfortable distance away. She was good at keeping her emotions hidden from others when she had to, she had years of experience doing it with her parents and most of her peers, after all.
She had to think, perhaps there was some use she could have to them?
Maybe you could offer to help Parker with his injuries? His demeanor suggests that he was hurt when he was fighting Johnny.
Good idea.
"Weeeeeeell," she began, holding that word as she tried to figure out exactly what else she was going to say. "I dunno what they want to do, but I came over to make sure everyone was okay."
She turned her attention towards Parker, seeing him as the more reasonable of the two. "I can tell you're hurt. I'm not like, an expert or anything on first aid, but I could help patch you up, I think?"
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Emprexx Plush
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What are you planning to do about her? As if they were mobsters in a middling summer release. Blaise did not object to the aesthetic, their hypocrisy had the occasional limit, but in their mind there was not much reason to do anything about Amber. Quite frankly she might have been the first truly reasonable person they had spoken to this entire trip. Reasonable observations, a lack of both threats and idealism, and a wardrobe that while basic did little to suggest a fascination bordering on perversion with horses. Her offer for assistance was...suspicious, yes, she did not strike them as so spineless as to need their validation or so compassionate she was genuinely worried about a pair of armed robbers, but it was a well reasoned play on consideration. If they were going to kill her she would be dead, and she lacked knowledge of Blaise's, shall we say, novice level of marksmanship. "I confess other than idle fantasy of ransoming her to her capitalist overlords, I have no designs on Miss..." They trailed off and tapped their cheek. No reason to be too familiar, it would give her the wrong idea about their situation. "Amber, was it?"
They could not see Parker's back from here and so they shrugged. "If he desires your assistance I will not stop you." It was challenging to restrain their smirk, but they wanted to see how this played out. The idea of Parker offering up the intimate vulnerability of medical aid to what they assumed was at most an acquaintance tested their poker face like little could though; they were uncertain he allowed actual licensed physicians to touch him for the majority of his maladies. The least they would get out of it was a delightfully awkward back and forth, and at most Amber would resolve whatever tasks he would have inevitably tried to argue them into later. There was this American child they read of when they were young, Dom or Tom or Elom, some such nonsense. The outcome was not dissimilar to his manipulation of neighborhood children to paint a fence for him, only in this case the children volunteered before he need say a word.
And Brom had a gun.
And the fence was bleeding.
The metaphor broke down under further observation.
They could not see Parker's back from here and so they shrugged. "If he desires your assistance I will not stop you." It was challenging to restrain their smirk, but they wanted to see how this played out. The idea of Parker offering up the intimate vulnerability of medical aid to what they assumed was at most an acquaintance tested their poker face like little could though; they were uncertain he allowed actual licensed physicians to touch him for the majority of his maladies. The least they would get out of it was a delightfully awkward back and forth, and at most Amber would resolve whatever tasks he would have inevitably tried to argue them into later. There was this American child they read of when they were young, Dom or Tom or Elom, some such nonsense. The outcome was not dissimilar to his manipulation of neighborhood children to paint a fence for him, only in this case the children volunteered before he need say a word.
And Brom had a gun.
And the fence was bleeding.
The metaphor broke down under further observation.
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 533
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:50 pm
- Location: Where I need to be
Parker's eyes met Blaise's in a sideways glance, as their rifle barrel lowered, held only in one hand so they could carefully demonstrate their lack of care about the fate of Amber. Their consent to him receiving medical treatment was unnecessary, but appreciated, at least. The closest thing to sympathy he was likely to be offered. Still, none of this made sense yet, not really. Parker had assumed the reason Blaise had killed so many was simple prudent self-centredness, given that anyone could be a threat, eliminating them before they reached that point could seem like the best course of action if one didn't stop to consider the wider picture - Something Blaise seemed less than fond of at the best of times. And, yet, when faced with a chance to continue their behaviour, they stopped. Made a show of how capricious they were. Put the decision upon him.
Perhaps they were testing him.
He looked back at Amber, eyes locking onto hers as he stood there silently, considering his options. Her eyes were green, he noticed, and rather wide as she stood there in similar silence.
The whole situation was not dissimilar to the one he'd encountered earlier. Yesterday. Recently. Time felt decidedly fuzzy, right now, the sleepless night and day all blending together in his short term memory, along with the hours of walking - But the specifics stood out. Nia had held him at gunpoint and forced him to give her medical treatment, and it had been a mutually beneficial agreement, given that he had been allowed to live and Nia had been able to prevent her injury from worsening. That had relied on the two of them being rational actors though, and even then, Parker had considered the gamble of attacking her.
He narrowed his gaze a little. Did he trust Amber to be a rational actor?
His expression shifted slightly, a brow furrowing and lips pulling to the side as the question reminded him that Amber wasn't the only question mark in this situation. Given where the injury was, there was no way he could point a gun at Amber to remind her of why she was playing along, that role would have to be taken by Blaise. The person who had just lowered their rifle, and thus their leverage, from the person in question.
Did he trust them to take it seriously enough?
"I'm good." he finally replied, breaking the silence.
It felt like there was a pressure behind his eyes now, as he tried to think of what he could get her to do, how he could remove her from this situation in a way that was beneficial to him. Something that Blaise would understand, and possibly more importantly, respect. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose and scrunch his face up in concentration, but that seemed like a terrible breach of decorum, and the kind of thing that would show he had no real idea what he was doing right now.
Trying to think about what he wanted only ended in one word; Sleep. Everything else felt like an irrelevant need, as the adrenaline began to wear off, and the ache in his legs returned along with the weight of his eyelids. What he needed to do was stall. Create more time to think.
"Amber, has anyone attacked you so far? What were they armed with?" He asked, after another, shorter pause.
Perhaps they were testing him.
He looked back at Amber, eyes locking onto hers as he stood there silently, considering his options. Her eyes were green, he noticed, and rather wide as she stood there in similar silence.
The whole situation was not dissimilar to the one he'd encountered earlier. Yesterday. Recently. Time felt decidedly fuzzy, right now, the sleepless night and day all blending together in his short term memory, along with the hours of walking - But the specifics stood out. Nia had held him at gunpoint and forced him to give her medical treatment, and it had been a mutually beneficial agreement, given that he had been allowed to live and Nia had been able to prevent her injury from worsening. That had relied on the two of them being rational actors though, and even then, Parker had considered the gamble of attacking her.
He narrowed his gaze a little. Did he trust Amber to be a rational actor?
His expression shifted slightly, a brow furrowing and lips pulling to the side as the question reminded him that Amber wasn't the only question mark in this situation. Given where the injury was, there was no way he could point a gun at Amber to remind her of why she was playing along, that role would have to be taken by Blaise. The person who had just lowered their rifle, and thus their leverage, from the person in question.
Did he trust them to take it seriously enough?
"I'm good." he finally replied, breaking the silence.
It felt like there was a pressure behind his eyes now, as he tried to think of what he could get her to do, how he could remove her from this situation in a way that was beneficial to him. Something that Blaise would understand, and possibly more importantly, respect. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose and scrunch his face up in concentration, but that seemed like a terrible breach of decorum, and the kind of thing that would show he had no real idea what he was doing right now.
Trying to think about what he wanted only ended in one word; Sleep. Everything else felt like an irrelevant need, as the adrenaline began to wear off, and the ache in his legs returned along with the weight of his eyelids. What he needed to do was stall. Create more time to think.
"Amber, has anyone attacked you so far? What were they armed with?" He asked, after another, shorter pause.
Criticism or thoughts on my writing are welcome and appreciated - always looking to improve! Feel free to poke me on Discord or via PM.
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
Wait, hold on.
Amber's face almost betrayed her inner thoughts in response to the ransom comment, barely maintaining her composure enough to not twist it into a look of confusion. Had Blaise overheard that joke she had made earlier? Was that a follow up joke on Blaise's part? Were they really relaxed enough with her for that? Did that mean...
Are we... are we cool now?
Blaise has killed people, Amber. I don't think it matters if they are being chill with you.
Yeah I know Blue, but... what if we're cool?
Just use it to get out of here, if you can. Don't dawdle.
Amber began to relax ever so slightly, no longer as worried about what might happen. Humor was a sign of being at ease after all, and boded well for her continued survival, especially since Blaise had been the wild card in this situation. Now all she had to do was coast until she saw an opportunity to leave, either by slipping away or by talking her way out.
Until then though, she would have to answer any questions they happened to ask, including the one just asked of her by Parker. "Well," she began, hefting her bat up from where it had been dragging the ground, now held in both her hands. "I've only been attacked by one person, and all she had was this bat, and well..."
Amber, no. Don't do what you're about to do.
Raising the bat above her head with one hand, she channeled her cheerleading experience and twirled it in the air dramatically, before bringing it back down to rest on her shoulder, posing like some katana-wielding anime delinquent. "Needless to say, it's my bat now."
She held the pose after finishing her explanation, images of how cool and badass she must look flashing through her mind.
Amber, sweetie, this really isn't the time for this kind of behavior, and you probably don't look as good as you think you do.
That's the magic Blue, I can't see myself, so I can just pretend I look cool, even if I actually don't!
Amber's face almost betrayed her inner thoughts in response to the ransom comment, barely maintaining her composure enough to not twist it into a look of confusion. Had Blaise overheard that joke she had made earlier? Was that a follow up joke on Blaise's part? Were they really relaxed enough with her for that? Did that mean...
Are we... are we cool now?
Blaise has killed people, Amber. I don't think it matters if they are being chill with you.
Yeah I know Blue, but... what if we're cool?
Just use it to get out of here, if you can. Don't dawdle.
Amber began to relax ever so slightly, no longer as worried about what might happen. Humor was a sign of being at ease after all, and boded well for her continued survival, especially since Blaise had been the wild card in this situation. Now all she had to do was coast until she saw an opportunity to leave, either by slipping away or by talking her way out.
Until then though, she would have to answer any questions they happened to ask, including the one just asked of her by Parker. "Well," she began, hefting her bat up from where it had been dragging the ground, now held in both her hands. "I've only been attacked by one person, and all she had was this bat, and well..."
Amber, no. Don't do what you're about to do.
Raising the bat above her head with one hand, she channeled her cheerleading experience and twirled it in the air dramatically, before bringing it back down to rest on her shoulder, posing like some katana-wielding anime delinquent. "Needless to say, it's my bat now."
She held the pose after finishing her explanation, images of how cool and badass she must look flashing through her mind.
Amber, sweetie, this really isn't the time for this kind of behavior, and you probably don't look as good as you think you do.
That's the magic Blue, I can't see myself, so I can just pretend I look cool, even if I actually don't!
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Emprexx Plush
- Posts: 1678
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 3:37 pm
- Contact:
Shed a tear for Parker, if you still have one to spare, as the realization that he was always the only sane person on this field must have pained him more than any shrapnel. As expected he kept his composure well but Blaise could nearly hear the incredulity echoing inside his skull. If he was less of a mess it would be delightful. They could have leveraged some mutual agreement. A partnership, in one fashion or another, with a number of benefits that promised to be entertaining if not beneficial. Sadly such negotiations were not on the table. There was a limit to what he could tolerate, and they had higher priorities to pitch him. Amber's performance earned her a smirk and a restrained clap, but she would not be making this squad. "Have the announcements not kept you appraised? If someone has not found the strength to pull the trigger yet, then..." Blaise shrugged. "I am unconcerned they will shoot at all."
Left to his own devices Parker could feed even on meager information for hours. It could be charming in an intellectual sense but they had a more active course in mind so dwelling on who shot whom with what held little interest at the moment and they did not wish to give him time to settle. Actually this was something of an opportunity; even if Parker would not accept Amber's continued manic pixie presence and if she could not be relied upon to serve any direct purpose in their absence, her loud mouth could be of use. As present company proved with the right charm even murder could be smoothed over, so there were hideaways and allies that might still welcome Lorenzo if he spoke the right words. Sins with less context though, with the implication of premeditation, with a mindset that made more recent predation harder to wave away as circumstance?
There had been some play in Dolly's final words about lies and rights. She had singled out Tyrell alongside Lorenzo and while consciously this detail was of little relevance to Blaise it was interesting to mull in the background. Blaise, Violet, D- the others learned when Tyrell made his grand entrance on the pier, but Dolly already knew hadn't she? How long, Blaise wondered, had Artem, Lorenzo, Dolly, and whoever else kept this quiet? How long had they stalled the exile he deserved? How long had they all kept this from them, the only one with spine enough to do something about it?
Ah.
In some pathetic, tragic sense Dolly might have thought she could protect him through silence.
Dolly was a fool. If everyone knew, everyone would hate him. Nowhere would be safe. With no more holes to crawl into he would run, and he would inevitably find himself collapsed at their feet. "As from the start I concern myself with the weapons of one man." Not true, but it could aid what came next. "Lorenzo Tavares is a rapist." They reached for a cigarette but found its hiding place empty, smoked a number of days ago not worth counting. Its absence drew a grunt, but they continued without it. "I intend to murder him. Painfully."
Left to his own devices Parker could feed even on meager information for hours. It could be charming in an intellectual sense but they had a more active course in mind so dwelling on who shot whom with what held little interest at the moment and they did not wish to give him time to settle. Actually this was something of an opportunity; even if Parker would not accept Amber's continued manic pixie presence and if she could not be relied upon to serve any direct purpose in their absence, her loud mouth could be of use. As present company proved with the right charm even murder could be smoothed over, so there were hideaways and allies that might still welcome Lorenzo if he spoke the right words. Sins with less context though, with the implication of premeditation, with a mindset that made more recent predation harder to wave away as circumstance?
There had been some play in Dolly's final words about lies and rights. She had singled out Tyrell alongside Lorenzo and while consciously this detail was of little relevance to Blaise it was interesting to mull in the background. Blaise, Violet, D- the others learned when Tyrell made his grand entrance on the pier, but Dolly already knew hadn't she? How long, Blaise wondered, had Artem, Lorenzo, Dolly, and whoever else kept this quiet? How long had they stalled the exile he deserved? How long had they all kept this from them, the only one with spine enough to do something about it?
Ah.
In some pathetic, tragic sense Dolly might have thought she could protect him through silence.
Dolly was a fool. If everyone knew, everyone would hate him. Nowhere would be safe. With no more holes to crawl into he would run, and he would inevitably find himself collapsed at their feet. "As from the start I concern myself with the weapons of one man." Not true, but it could aid what came next. "Lorenzo Tavares is a rapist." They reached for a cigarette but found its hiding place empty, smoked a number of days ago not worth counting. Its absence drew a grunt, but they continued without it. "I intend to murder him. Painfully."
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 533
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:50 pm
- Location: Where I need to be
Parker had always been told he held a good poker face.
People he actively played poker with, to his parents, to even the occasional video interviewer, they all had commented on it. Truth be told though, that wasn't due to any particular skill in preventing his emotions from manifesting on his features, or in the subtle tics most people had. In fact, it was almost the exact opposite. It had always taken a conscious effort for him to decide to present his emotions in a way that mirrored those around him, to curl his lips up into a smile when he was happy, to frown in that particular way people were supposed to when they shared some unfortunate event with you. When that effort had been beyond his grasp, people noticed that far more than any expression. But in cases like this, the option to simply not put in the effort to show the mixture of confusion, surprise and mild irritation he felt was an advantage of its own.
Blaise responded on his behalf, with all the affection and respect of someone talking to a stranger's toddler who had just presented them a macaroni picture. The exact response though, that felt like another nudge, aimed directly at him. He was as much the subject of that statement as Amber was.
That was the thing that made Blaise so interesting, back at home, the reason he’d enjoyed playing with them. Testing mettle against them in social combat. They were the kind of person who would check their cards a second time in such a way as to let him see the corner of the King in their hand, only to smirk knowingly at him after catching him checking, leaving him guessing as to what level they were playing. Were they protecting a weak hand by showing him the strong card, hoping he would fold, or trying to make him play deeper with that expectation so they could turn over the second king when it came to showdown. They had a way of making him question the correct play that so few others did, forcing him to play the person, not the hand - A game they were infinitely better at.
It made them dangerous, too.
The question, he supposed, was if Blaise considered him dangerous in return. Then, on top of that, whether they wanted someone dangerous alongside themselves or not.
That train of thought was interrupted by Blaise’s continuing speech, repeating what Tyrell had told him about Lorenzo. It didn’t seem to fit with the Lorenzo he had known, he had been pretty forwards when they first met, but simply telling him point blank to cut that shit out had been accepted and they’d moved past it quickly. He would have to ask Blaise who their source was for that information later.
What they elucidated on, assuming it was the truth and not something to mollify their present company - another question he made a note to ask - was at least reassuring to hear. Difficult to square with their actions as he knew them from the announcements, sure, but they at least had an objective and weren’t just acting on pure moment to moment whimsy. Whether or not they had an actual plan to achieve it, and on what to do after, that was still a question mark, but they had not entirely lost themselves to their impulses even if they were pursuing a pointless task.
After all, it was likely Lorenzo would find his own way to the grave with or without their intervention. That was the nature of the situation they found themselves in. Blaise was not the only person capable of being a threat, far from it, and actively seeking out another threat only increased the likelihood that one would be eliminated. No, the best strategy was to simply outlast, to acquire what you could with minimal risk to oneself and let others risk their lives to whittle down the pool of potential threats. A twinge of pain in his side reminded him of what facing such dangers wrought.
But that was something he could explain to them privately, later.
All he needed to do now was to act on it.
He tilted his head to the side a little and looked down his shoulder, more directly focusing his physical attention on Blaise, having been passively observing Amber even as his mental attention was placed on them. He kept her in the corner of his eye, just in case though, as he spoke.
“Do you need anything from her?”
People he actively played poker with, to his parents, to even the occasional video interviewer, they all had commented on it. Truth be told though, that wasn't due to any particular skill in preventing his emotions from manifesting on his features, or in the subtle tics most people had. In fact, it was almost the exact opposite. It had always taken a conscious effort for him to decide to present his emotions in a way that mirrored those around him, to curl his lips up into a smile when he was happy, to frown in that particular way people were supposed to when they shared some unfortunate event with you. When that effort had been beyond his grasp, people noticed that far more than any expression. But in cases like this, the option to simply not put in the effort to show the mixture of confusion, surprise and mild irritation he felt was an advantage of its own.
Blaise responded on his behalf, with all the affection and respect of someone talking to a stranger's toddler who had just presented them a macaroni picture. The exact response though, that felt like another nudge, aimed directly at him. He was as much the subject of that statement as Amber was.
That was the thing that made Blaise so interesting, back at home, the reason he’d enjoyed playing with them. Testing mettle against them in social combat. They were the kind of person who would check their cards a second time in such a way as to let him see the corner of the King in their hand, only to smirk knowingly at him after catching him checking, leaving him guessing as to what level they were playing. Were they protecting a weak hand by showing him the strong card, hoping he would fold, or trying to make him play deeper with that expectation so they could turn over the second king when it came to showdown. They had a way of making him question the correct play that so few others did, forcing him to play the person, not the hand - A game they were infinitely better at.
It made them dangerous, too.
The question, he supposed, was if Blaise considered him dangerous in return. Then, on top of that, whether they wanted someone dangerous alongside themselves or not.
That train of thought was interrupted by Blaise’s continuing speech, repeating what Tyrell had told him about Lorenzo. It didn’t seem to fit with the Lorenzo he had known, he had been pretty forwards when they first met, but simply telling him point blank to cut that shit out had been accepted and they’d moved past it quickly. He would have to ask Blaise who their source was for that information later.
What they elucidated on, assuming it was the truth and not something to mollify their present company - another question he made a note to ask - was at least reassuring to hear. Difficult to square with their actions as he knew them from the announcements, sure, but they at least had an objective and weren’t just acting on pure moment to moment whimsy. Whether or not they had an actual plan to achieve it, and on what to do after, that was still a question mark, but they had not entirely lost themselves to their impulses even if they were pursuing a pointless task.
After all, it was likely Lorenzo would find his own way to the grave with or without their intervention. That was the nature of the situation they found themselves in. Blaise was not the only person capable of being a threat, far from it, and actively seeking out another threat only increased the likelihood that one would be eliminated. No, the best strategy was to simply outlast, to acquire what you could with minimal risk to oneself and let others risk their lives to whittle down the pool of potential threats. A twinge of pain in his side reminded him of what facing such dangers wrought.
But that was something he could explain to them privately, later.
All he needed to do now was to act on it.
He tilted his head to the side a little and looked down his shoulder, more directly focusing his physical attention on Blaise, having been passively observing Amber even as his mental attention was placed on them. He kept her in the corner of his eye, just in case though, as he spoke.
“Do you need anything from her?”
Criticism or thoughts on my writing are welcome and appreciated - always looking to improve! Feel free to poke me on Discord or via PM.
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
Amber was starting to think that these two could not be more vaguely ominous even if they tried.
Blaise wants to kill Lorenzo, who is apparently a rapist, but she wasn't sure how truthful that statement was. Skepticism was a natural response, given the circumstances and exactly who she was talking to. Though, if he really is a rapist, then... Amber definitely wouldn't bother worrying about him, in that case.
Parker, meanwhile, was being the more threatening of the two. Amber has seen enough movies to be able to see the subtext behind asking if Blaise "needed anything" from her. Was he trying to goad them into robbing her? It wouldn't be a terrible idea, given the fact that both of them have guns and all Amber has is a baseball bat. Her resistance to them would likely be pitiful, even though she was already within swinging distance of the both of them. It seemed her fate was entirely in Blaise's hands, which was a somewhat disquieting prospect, given Blaise's already violent history.
Considering her options assuming the duo did try to rob her, Amber would much rather flee to save her supplies, and face death via bullets rather than a slow, painful degradation from starvation. She tried to think of something to say to hopefully improve her chances of making it out of this situation alive, but unfortunately, her words failed her. She wasn't sure what she could say to further defuse the situation, perhaps it had already been defused as best it could, and now it was simply time for her to wait for her opportunity. Instead of speaking, she looked expectantly between the two, silently planning her escape route to the nearest cover if everything went awry.
Blaise wants to kill Lorenzo, who is apparently a rapist, but she wasn't sure how truthful that statement was. Skepticism was a natural response, given the circumstances and exactly who she was talking to. Though, if he really is a rapist, then... Amber definitely wouldn't bother worrying about him, in that case.
Parker, meanwhile, was being the more threatening of the two. Amber has seen enough movies to be able to see the subtext behind asking if Blaise "needed anything" from her. Was he trying to goad them into robbing her? It wouldn't be a terrible idea, given the fact that both of them have guns and all Amber has is a baseball bat. Her resistance to them would likely be pitiful, even though she was already within swinging distance of the both of them. It seemed her fate was entirely in Blaise's hands, which was a somewhat disquieting prospect, given Blaise's already violent history.
Considering her options assuming the duo did try to rob her, Amber would much rather flee to save her supplies, and face death via bullets rather than a slow, painful degradation from starvation. She tried to think of something to say to hopefully improve her chances of making it out of this situation alive, but unfortunately, her words failed her. She wasn't sure what she could say to further defuse the situation, perhaps it had already been defused as best it could, and now it was simply time for her to wait for her opportunity. Instead of speaking, she looked expectantly between the two, silently planning her escape route to the nearest cover if everything went awry.
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Emprexx Plush
- Posts: 1678
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 3:37 pm
- Contact:
So they would put the decision on them. Amber's hesitation was simple enough, finding yourself trapped between two uncooperative actors more well-armed and willing to do violence than what Blaise could only assume was a relatively undisturbed life had demanded she consider must be jarring. With motivation she might raise a hand to either of them, but why would they give it to her? She was not the sort of person who posed any real threat to them, and she had nothing they needed. As cinematically satisfying as it might be to splinter Lorenzo's bones with a baseball bat, it was not worth the attention another name on the announcements might bring or the ire leaving her alive would engender. They were even beginning to doubt the value of practice; if they needed live targets the monkeys remained with less social faux pas to their slaughter, and weren't they doing well enough? No, Amber had little to fear from Blaise. They looked forward to the possibility of encountering her again if she stumbled her half-mad way further towards the finish. If value was to be derived it was in her potential for entertainment.
What was more troubling was Parker's continued allusions to a less pleasant departure. Amber was...simple, perhaps, but with the way he nodded to her with veiled threats every time he opened his mouth she had to have picked up on the implications. It could not be ruled out that was his goal, when Parker wanted to be subtle he could do far better, but then to what end? To turn them against each other? That hardly seemed in his interest. Whoever survived would turn on him next, and Blaise doubted he had the stomach to gun one or both of them down in the struggle. The next logical conclusion was that he wanted Amber dead, and they could ponder that notion longer. After all, they had no way of knowing for certain he hadn't manipulated others to murder in this last week or so. It would not be outside of his character. It would impress them and require reconsidering previous options in new light, but despite its plausibility they were not so sure that it was accurate either. Parker's flavor of deception was omission, it was difficult to take anything from him that he did not find purpose in giving away. If he wanted this girl to die he would find a way to communicate it in fewer words. Which left them with the most nebulous option. If Parker wanted Amber to catch his threats, and he wanted Blaise to catch that Amber caught his threats, and likely that he caught that they caught that she caught his threats, this was perhaps some sort of convoluted test. Its purpose was inscrutable, they could jab at possibilities but it was not worth the effort. Walking the thought experiment this far had brought a sour taste in their mouth, because in all options on the table Parker was using them for something. It was not a framework they were unused to or even opposed to, but when their positions were best illustrated by him laying on the ground wounded and them lounging atop a pile of bodies? Where the difference in their power dynamic could not be starker?
They grinned and shook their head. "Parker, when have you ever known me to need anything from anyone?"
If Blaise did not allow themself the weakness of want, why would they entertain the liability of need?
To Amber they offered a wink as they passed to gather their things. "Adieu and good luck mademoiselle dumb bitch." Actually, a wink was insufficient, no? A kiss as well, blown over their shoulder, to be clear there were no hard feelings.
They moved on and expected Parker to follow.
((Blaise D'Aramitz Continued In Bullet By Bullet))
What was more troubling was Parker's continued allusions to a less pleasant departure. Amber was...simple, perhaps, but with the way he nodded to her with veiled threats every time he opened his mouth she had to have picked up on the implications. It could not be ruled out that was his goal, when Parker wanted to be subtle he could do far better, but then to what end? To turn them against each other? That hardly seemed in his interest. Whoever survived would turn on him next, and Blaise doubted he had the stomach to gun one or both of them down in the struggle. The next logical conclusion was that he wanted Amber dead, and they could ponder that notion longer. After all, they had no way of knowing for certain he hadn't manipulated others to murder in this last week or so. It would not be outside of his character. It would impress them and require reconsidering previous options in new light, but despite its plausibility they were not so sure that it was accurate either. Parker's flavor of deception was omission, it was difficult to take anything from him that he did not find purpose in giving away. If he wanted this girl to die he would find a way to communicate it in fewer words. Which left them with the most nebulous option. If Parker wanted Amber to catch his threats, and he wanted Blaise to catch that Amber caught his threats, and likely that he caught that they caught that she caught his threats, this was perhaps some sort of convoluted test. Its purpose was inscrutable, they could jab at possibilities but it was not worth the effort. Walking the thought experiment this far had brought a sour taste in their mouth, because in all options on the table Parker was using them for something. It was not a framework they were unused to or even opposed to, but when their positions were best illustrated by him laying on the ground wounded and them lounging atop a pile of bodies? Where the difference in their power dynamic could not be starker?
They grinned and shook their head. "Parker, when have you ever known me to need anything from anyone?"
If Blaise did not allow themself the weakness of want, why would they entertain the liability of need?
To Amber they offered a wink as they passed to gather their things. "Adieu and good luck mademoiselle dumb bitch." Actually, a wink was insufficient, no? A kiss as well, blown over their shoulder, to be clear there were no hard feelings.
They moved on and expected Parker to follow.
((Blaise D'Aramitz Continued In Bullet By Bullet))
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 533
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:50 pm
- Location: Where I need to be
Criticism or thoughts on my writing are welcome and appreciated - always looking to improve! Feel free to poke me on Discord or via PM.
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 801
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
They just... left her here.
Amber stood there for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, merely holding her breath and staring at where they went. She almost expected them to come back for her, as if they had walked away just to lull her into a false sense of security like with the rest of their deceptive nonsense.
Eventually, enough time passed for her to finally feel safe.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Hold.
Then, Amber unleashed another ear piercing scream, maintaining it as long as she could. She wasn't sure why she was screaming necessarily. Maybe it was a scream of relief, like she was releasing all the tension that had built up over the last few minutes. Maybe it was a scream of rage, angry at herself for winding up in that situation. Maybe it was a scream of fear, with all of her adrenaline finally escaping her body.
She didn't come to a conclusion by the time the scream finally ended, her breathing newly heavy and ragged. She tucked the thought away, since it didn't really matter all that much, and began to reexamine her surroundings, making sure that nobody else heard her. After a few minutes of this, her bodily aches steadily returning, Amber looked once again towards the extravagantly large houses around her, and began moving towards one.
What now?
((I'm going to find a place to fucking sleep, inside. Hopefully there won't be more murderers in there.))
Amber stood there for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, merely holding her breath and staring at where they went. She almost expected them to come back for her, as if they had walked away just to lull her into a false sense of security like with the rest of their deceptive nonsense.
Eventually, enough time passed for her to finally feel safe.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Hold.
Then, Amber unleashed another ear piercing scream, maintaining it as long as she could. She wasn't sure why she was screaming necessarily. Maybe it was a scream of relief, like she was releasing all the tension that had built up over the last few minutes. Maybe it was a scream of rage, angry at herself for winding up in that situation. Maybe it was a scream of fear, with all of her adrenaline finally escaping her body.
She didn't come to a conclusion by the time the scream finally ended, her breathing newly heavy and ragged. She tucked the thought away, since it didn't really matter all that much, and began to reexamine her surroundings, making sure that nobody else heard her. After a few minutes of this, her bodily aches steadily returning, Amber looked once again towards the extravagantly large houses around her, and began moving towards one.
What now?
((I'm going to find a place to fucking sleep, inside. Hopefully there won't be more murderers in there.))