Yuko died quickly, Katrina said, less than a small comfort, a Band-aid thrown on top of exposed viscera, frayed nerves. Yuka barked more than laughed, the only response she could come up with. The account lined up vaguely with what she could recall from Demetri. She had hoped for more answers, for something better.
Roxie understood, she said. A wry grin showed up on Yuka's face, a burst of air from her nose. She looked momentarily at her friend.
"You get how I feel, Roxie? I didn't know you also had sisters on this island."
Two more steps forward. Enough steps forward. Her grin faded.
"I saw her already, by the way.
"She was bloated, when I found her body. Falling apart, kinda. Bugs in her wounds, her mouth. You left her wound exposed, the insects feasted on it.
"So, seeing her didn't help. And, you still caused it really. You provok- provoked him, Demetri said."
Her body shook with each breath she took. Her lungs expanded and contracted, yet it felt like no air was making it in.
"I... shared a bedroom with my sisters my entire life. I never had a room to myself. I used to hate it, really. But. This morning was the first time I've ever woken up by myself, the first of many mornings. It was lonely, it was painful, and you contributed to that."
Another step forward, eyes locked once more on Katrina, whites above the pupil visible.
"You fucking STABBED my SISTER, and left her to die. No matter how you dress it up, that's what you did to her, to me. So, what do you have to say to that?"
And, it occurred to Yuka at that moment that nothing Katrina could say would suffice. Whether she gloated about Yuko's death, or kneeled and begged for mercy, there was really only one thing Katrina could do that would bring some sense of satisfaction, catharsis. So, what was she waiting for?
Party Like It's 1999
Roxiedeath (pm for entry)
So Roxie wasn't really involved in this beef, assuming she wasn't doing a bitch move like lying. Good. Still kinda guilty by association, but like.... the less badder of two bad things, kinda? Was that the saying? Whatever. She was a non-issue, anyway.
The whip unfurled onto the beach, pointy end nicking the soft ground.
"Girl, anything else she says is gonna be full of shit, too."
One hand on one end, the other about midway down the silver whip too dull to reflect the sun that was still vibing high in the sky. The whip whirled like a windmill, in clear-ish view of the conveniently placed and obscuring bush. The signal to get ready... and hopefully just that because like, let's be real here, didn't really have a clue how to use this thing still and an eye was probably gonna get poked out within a 20-mile radius. That would be kinda lit, but not really Gucci right now.
"I think we're done with this bitch."
The whip unfurled onto the beach, pointy end nicking the soft ground.
"Girl, anything else she says is gonna be full of shit, too."
One hand on one end, the other about midway down the silver whip too dull to reflect the sun that was still vibing high in the sky. The whip whirled like a windmill, in clear-ish view of the conveniently placed and obscuring bush. The signal to get ready... and hopefully just that because like, let's be real here, didn't really have a clue how to use this thing still and an eye was probably gonna get poked out within a 20-mile radius. That would be kinda lit, but not really Gucci right now.
"I think we're done with this bitch."
"We are, yeah."
Yuka nodded at Teresa, and then looked towards Katrina.
Muscle memory, brought to life, the culmination of hours of practice, a thousand failed attempts. First step, she leaped off the sand, propelled herself towards the girl. Second step, she reached back, drew her knife. Third step, she swung the blade in arc, pointed it directly in front of her.
She screamed, and she charged.
Yuka nodded at Teresa, and then looked towards Katrina.
Muscle memory, brought to life, the culmination of hours of practice, a thousand failed attempts. First step, she leaped off the sand, propelled herself towards the girl. Second step, she reached back, drew her knife. Third step, she swung the blade in arc, pointed it directly in front of her.
She screamed, and she charged.
-
TheLordOfAwesome
- Posts: 489
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:37 pm
- Location: Washington
"Well, if they did they were polite enough to leave us be." she said.
Sierra didn't exactly expect this to be a major long-term thing. For the time being it was just some brief moment of relief in a shitty situation between two people who found each other mutually attractive.
"Next time though," she said, smiling at Willow. "Let's make sure we're on a bed or something. My back is—"
A sudden scream rang out from nearby, over where she and Willow had left Kat and Roxie. Sierra sprung into action, standing to her full height and grabbing her gun.
"Aw, shit. C'mon! Let's go!"
And she ran towards where the other two were. If they were in trouble then she needed to be there to help.
Sierra didn't exactly expect this to be a major long-term thing. For the time being it was just some brief moment of relief in a shitty situation between two people who found each other mutually attractive.
"Next time though," she said, smiling at Willow. "Let's make sure we're on a bed or something. My back is—"
A sudden scream rang out from nearby, over where she and Willow had left Kat and Roxie. Sierra sprung into action, standing to her full height and grabbing her gun.
"Aw, shit. C'mon! Let's go!"
And she ran towards where the other two were. If they were in trouble then she needed to be there to help.
Willow didn't really think as she fiddled around with her gun. If she had to come clean, she was honestly itching for a fight. Willow had done exactly nothing for the past few days other than walking and talking and fucking, she wanted to get some actions in that.
As she got closer, the noises became clearer.
It was a struggle of some kind. Someone was attacking someone else. Honestly, she was hoping that Katrina finally decided to enact her primal desire and stab Roxie right in the face. Tragically, it was someone else that was on the top of the fighting.
Yuka.
"Oh." She looked at Katrina then at Yuka. That made sense. That perfect sense, but Willow kinda had to do something, right? If she did nothing and Katrina survived, she'd look scummy as hell but... Katrina was Katrina and Yuka was Yuka. They had to air things out, or rather, bleed them.
Willow rolled her eyes. That was a job for her taser. How many people can she bzzt in a minute? She was totally ready to set a new Guinness World Record, but one had a knife and the other had a cult robe. It didn't take a lot of thinking to know that they were totally ready to fuck shit up.
One had with her stun gun and the other with her needle gun, the duo of fake weapons was ready to rumble. The problem was clearly the chick with the whip because Yuka had beef to hash out, but Katrina just needed to say she was vegan and it would probably just work out.
"Dibs on cult girl."
Willow jumped forward. This was a two v. four, but like Roxie totally didn't count with her peg leg. Technically, they still totally had the upper hand.
Well until a gun shot rang out.
It was coming from... somewhere. From her right, not close enough to be Sierra, too far to be Yuka with a powder surprise and especially not cult girl since the gun would have totally have been shot on Willow. So it was a three v. four. If she hadn't started to run, maybe Willow would have taken a step back and took cover.
But she didn't. Nothing really stopped Willow once she had both of her feet in the grinding gears. She just kept running toward the girl. Both of her indexes on the triggers of each of her guns, ready to hurt and to claim her bounty. Willow's smile turned into a cackle as she got closer.
As she got closer, the noises became clearer.
It was a struggle of some kind. Someone was attacking someone else. Honestly, she was hoping that Katrina finally decided to enact her primal desire and stab Roxie right in the face. Tragically, it was someone else that was on the top of the fighting.
Yuka.
"Oh." She looked at Katrina then at Yuka. That made sense. That perfect sense, but Willow kinda had to do something, right? If she did nothing and Katrina survived, she'd look scummy as hell but... Katrina was Katrina and Yuka was Yuka. They had to air things out, or rather, bleed them.
Willow rolled her eyes. That was a job for her taser. How many people can she bzzt in a minute? She was totally ready to set a new Guinness World Record, but one had a knife and the other had a cult robe. It didn't take a lot of thinking to know that they were totally ready to fuck shit up.
One had with her stun gun and the other with her needle gun, the duo of fake weapons was ready to rumble. The problem was clearly the chick with the whip because Yuka had beef to hash out, but Katrina just needed to say she was vegan and it would probably just work out.
"Dibs on cult girl."
Willow jumped forward. This was a two v. four, but like Roxie totally didn't count with her peg leg. Technically, they still totally had the upper hand.
Well until a gun shot rang out.
It was coming from... somewhere. From her right, not close enough to be Sierra, too far to be Yuka with a powder surprise and especially not cult girl since the gun would have totally have been shot on Willow. So it was a three v. four. If she hadn't started to run, maybe Willow would have taken a step back and took cover.
But she didn't. Nothing really stopped Willow once she had both of her feet in the grinding gears. She just kept running toward the girl. Both of her indexes on the triggers of each of her guns, ready to hurt and to claim her bounty. Willow's smile turned into a cackle as she got closer.
Amongst the shrubbery and foliage, Mikey lurked quietly. He did not lurk silently. He was far away enough from The Kerfuffle that he couldn't actually make out any of the words anyone was saying, so like, he figured they couldn't hear him humming the theme of 'Curb Your Enthusiasm' in the bushes.
He was freaking the fuck out.
"Y'know, I'm starting to feel like I should be apologizing for the things I haven't even done yet."
He'd put on his prescription glasses on underneath his sunglasses (for tactical purposes!), so when Yuka tensed her legs in preparation to murder Katrina's face, you bet your booty Mikey caught it.
His first cue. He made a single, pronounced inhalation.
He started mumble-singing. Rushed words.
"Well, the guy in the skeleton costume runs up to the guy in the Superman suit -"
Yuka screamed and started her charge.
"- runs through him with a broadsword!"
He heard Sierra's voice. Second cue.
"I flip the television off, bring all the bright lights up -"
Honestly, he didn't even really hate Sierra. But, like, he felt like he was supposed to hate her, so he was trying his darndest. The decision to premeditate this had been, like, one he'd made in the heat of the moment. Like, he'd just kinda assumed Sierra'd lie to herself about being a hypocrite, but like... maybe she'd own up to it. Like, fuck it, he'd maybe even admire her honesty. He'd definitely be jealous, though, because now it was like the second he said something — even when it was the truth — it turned into a lie.
He'd grown to accept it now, though. It was just who he was. Present-tense, not past-tense.
"- turn the radio up loud!"
Mikey didn't want to be a marine biologist anymore.
He saw Willow go around the corner first. She was near Teresa, off to the side of the main confrontation. He almost shot. He didn't shoot. Willow wasn't Sierra.
"I don't know why I was so persuaded -"
Then, Sierra. She had a gun. Michael closed an eye, flattened himself completely to the ground, and lined the sights up with Sierra. From here, with everything in 2D, it looked kinda like she was adjacent to the Katrina-Yuka-Roxie cluster. Honestly, with his lack of experience, he knew hitting any one of them from this distance and this position — with a pistol, no less — was about as likely as winning the lottery. Hitting someone wasn't the point, though.
This was happening. There'd been too many coincidences. This was what was supposed to be happening.
"- that if I thought things through, long enough and hard enough -"
Beryl wouldn't want this. It didn't matter what Beryl wanted. Beryl didn't want anything anymore, because she was dead. Michael didn't want this. It wasn't like that'd stop him. It usually didn't stop him. If anything, it encouraged him.
"- I'd somehow get to You."
His finger began pulling the trigger, but then it stopped and relaxed for about half a second.
He wanted to yell something at Sierra. 'Rebound's got a rebound!' he wanted to yell. 'I accidentally walked in on you and Willow midfuck and I'm incredibly embarrassed even though you didn't notice me and all I saw was a fuzzy fleshtoned blob with a tramp stamp since I wasn't wearing my glasses!' he wanted to yell. 'I'm sorry about this!' he wanted to yell. 'Her face was gone,' he wanted to scream and cry and he would never stop screaming and crying and it would never stop hurting specifically because he knew he'd never actually been crying for Beryl.
Then, Mikey remembered actions spoke louder than words.
So he fired one shot and stayed hidden in the bush.
He was freaking the fuck out.
"Y'know, I'm starting to feel like I should be apologizing for the things I haven't even done yet."
He'd put on his prescription glasses on underneath his sunglasses (for tactical purposes!), so when Yuka tensed her legs in preparation to murder Katrina's face, you bet your booty Mikey caught it.
His first cue. He made a single, pronounced inhalation.
He started mumble-singing. Rushed words.
"Well, the guy in the skeleton costume runs up to the guy in the Superman suit -"
Yuka screamed and started her charge.
"- runs through him with a broadsword!"
He heard Sierra's voice. Second cue.
"I flip the television off, bring all the bright lights up -"
Honestly, he didn't even really hate Sierra. But, like, he felt like he was supposed to hate her, so he was trying his darndest. The decision to premeditate this had been, like, one he'd made in the heat of the moment. Like, he'd just kinda assumed Sierra'd lie to herself about being a hypocrite, but like... maybe she'd own up to it. Like, fuck it, he'd maybe even admire her honesty. He'd definitely be jealous, though, because now it was like the second he said something — even when it was the truth — it turned into a lie.
He'd grown to accept it now, though. It was just who he was. Present-tense, not past-tense.
"- turn the radio up loud!"
Mikey didn't want to be a marine biologist anymore.
He saw Willow go around the corner first. She was near Teresa, off to the side of the main confrontation. He almost shot. He didn't shoot. Willow wasn't Sierra.
"I don't know why I was so persuaded -"
Then, Sierra. She had a gun. Michael closed an eye, flattened himself completely to the ground, and lined the sights up with Sierra. From here, with everything in 2D, it looked kinda like she was adjacent to the Katrina-Yuka-Roxie cluster. Honestly, with his lack of experience, he knew hitting any one of them from this distance and this position — with a pistol, no less — was about as likely as winning the lottery. Hitting someone wasn't the point, though.
This was happening. There'd been too many coincidences. This was what was supposed to be happening.
"- that if I thought things through, long enough and hard enough -"
Beryl wouldn't want this. It didn't matter what Beryl wanted. Beryl didn't want anything anymore, because she was dead. Michael didn't want this. It wasn't like that'd stop him. It usually didn't stop him. If anything, it encouraged him.
"- I'd somehow get to You."
His finger began pulling the trigger, but then it stopped and relaxed for about half a second.
He wanted to yell something at Sierra. 'Rebound's got a rebound!' he wanted to yell. 'I accidentally walked in on you and Willow midfuck and I'm incredibly embarrassed even though you didn't notice me and all I saw was a fuzzy fleshtoned blob with a tramp stamp since I wasn't wearing my glasses!' he wanted to yell. 'I'm sorry about this!' he wanted to yell. 'Her face was gone,' he wanted to scream and cry and he would never stop screaming and crying and it would never stop hurting specifically because he knew he'd never actually been crying for Beryl.
Then, Mikey remembered actions spoke louder than words.
So he fired one shot and stayed hidden in the bush.
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Things escalated so quickly. Yuka brushed her off, then vented about how she already saw Yuko and that Katrina hadn't done a good job paying respects and that she woke up alone and that Katrina couldn't redeem herself. Not after killing her sister, not after running away, not after letting her bloat and be feasted on in plain sight.
Roxie thought about that a bit. Katrina hadn't done a good job, none of them did. So poor Yuka had to see her sister's decaying corpse. Couldn't they have, like, buried her, hid her somewhere better? No wonder she was angry, aside from the obvious. She looked at Katrina, frowning. She also didn't bring up Tyrell getting provoked, but then again, Demetri, but on the other hand-
Roxie tensed up.
Then, with a little egging on from Teresa, Yuka screamed and made a move.
"Stop it, please! Stop, stop!"
Roxie immediately lunged, hands up. She tried to pry herself between the two, hands still raised, anything to get it to stop. Anything to de-escalate, she didn't know how but she needed to do something. Anything. She stood her ground, tried to push them away from each other. She needed to block Yuka and Katrina. She absolutely had to. That's what the terrorists wanted, they wanted them to hate each other and destroy each other and to tarnish each others' names, she didn't want this to get any more worse than what had already happened, please no--
"Stop! No more!"
More panic permeated the air, more shouting, but barely audible over the chaos. A sound like a firecracker, and then another-
_____
5…
4…
3…
2…
1…
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
The attendees at the party, all George Hunter kids, cheered. Someone had scheduled a party at Frasier's Glen, and of course Roxie had shown up. She'd participated in every event, and after the clock turned to the first midnight of 2018 she'd stuck around, chattering excitedly.
So uh, what's your resolution? Ah, I see, yeah, resolutions can be hard to remember, can relate. I like yours, though! Uh, oh right, me. I've been meaning to take care of myself more, since, like, I overworked myself in junior year, and the doctor dude said I should. I've been practicing yoga, yeah? But like, I'm not gonna slack off. You heard about Lucas' new project, right? And like, I was getting stuff ready for a video about the stages of decay. Like, first I'm freshly dead, then I'm bloating, then I'm in active then advanced decay, then the last one's dry remains. Ack. Not very party friendly, I know, but uh… sometimes I get a little excited about new stuff. Oh! Yeah, your plans sound cool, too.
Wanna help us clean up? Um, oh, trivia. The song that's playing now? "Smooth" by Santana? Yeah, that one. Funny thing is, it was on the Billboards list for the longest time, like, October 1999 to like, sometime in 2000. Basically, it was number 1 for like, 12 weeks, and in the top ten for 30. It was a record at the time, and it's kinda funny they're playing it now. Here's the garbage, toss that? Yeah. Thanks. I also think it’s funny because like, they played “1999” earlier as well. But, like, it’s kinda apocalyptic? Don’t want to spend my year doing my best Mad Max impression.
Anyways, I hope this year turns out good! Last year was rough, but we can make it through this one, right?
____
Roxie fell to the sand, landing on her side. Her eyes remained open, still full of shock. Blood and viscera leaked from her skull, shattered by the gunshot wound. Another matching wound, a stabbing in the torso, leaked more. Her face was pale, still, slowly cooling.
Stage 1: Freshly Dead.
Female Student #036 Roxanne "Roxie" Borowski: ELIMINATED
Roxie thought about that a bit. Katrina hadn't done a good job, none of them did. So poor Yuka had to see her sister's decaying corpse. Couldn't they have, like, buried her, hid her somewhere better? No wonder she was angry, aside from the obvious. She looked at Katrina, frowning. She also didn't bring up Tyrell getting provoked, but then again, Demetri, but on the other hand-
Roxie tensed up.
Then, with a little egging on from Teresa, Yuka screamed and made a move.
"Stop it, please! Stop, stop!"
Roxie immediately lunged, hands up. She tried to pry herself between the two, hands still raised, anything to get it to stop. Anything to de-escalate, she didn't know how but she needed to do something. Anything. She stood her ground, tried to push them away from each other. She needed to block Yuka and Katrina. She absolutely had to. That's what the terrorists wanted, they wanted them to hate each other and destroy each other and to tarnish each others' names, she didn't want this to get any more worse than what had already happened, please no--
"Stop! No more!"
More panic permeated the air, more shouting, but barely audible over the chaos. A sound like a firecracker, and then another-
_____
5…
4…
3…
2…
1…
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
The attendees at the party, all George Hunter kids, cheered. Someone had scheduled a party at Frasier's Glen, and of course Roxie had shown up. She'd participated in every event, and after the clock turned to the first midnight of 2018 she'd stuck around, chattering excitedly.
So uh, what's your resolution? Ah, I see, yeah, resolutions can be hard to remember, can relate. I like yours, though! Uh, oh right, me. I've been meaning to take care of myself more, since, like, I overworked myself in junior year, and the doctor dude said I should. I've been practicing yoga, yeah? But like, I'm not gonna slack off. You heard about Lucas' new project, right? And like, I was getting stuff ready for a video about the stages of decay. Like, first I'm freshly dead, then I'm bloating, then I'm in active then advanced decay, then the last one's dry remains. Ack. Not very party friendly, I know, but uh… sometimes I get a little excited about new stuff. Oh! Yeah, your plans sound cool, too.
Wanna help us clean up? Um, oh, trivia. The song that's playing now? "Smooth" by Santana? Yeah, that one. Funny thing is, it was on the Billboards list for the longest time, like, October 1999 to like, sometime in 2000. Basically, it was number 1 for like, 12 weeks, and in the top ten for 30. It was a record at the time, and it's kinda funny they're playing it now. Here's the garbage, toss that? Yeah. Thanks. I also think it’s funny because like, they played “1999” earlier as well. But, like, it’s kinda apocalyptic? Don’t want to spend my year doing my best Mad Max impression.
Anyways, I hope this year turns out good! Last year was rough, but we can make it through this one, right?
____
Roxie fell to the sand, landing on her side. Her eyes remained open, still full of shock. Blood and viscera leaked from her skull, shattered by the gunshot wound. Another matching wound, a stabbing in the torso, leaked more. Her face was pale, still, slowly cooling.
Stage 1: Freshly Dead.
Female Student #036 Roxanne "Roxie" Borowski: ELIMINATED
Katrina remained frozen as Yuka spoke. Apparently, Katrina really, really, really messed up her handling of Yuko's body. She did wipe the wounds and covered the bodies, and even made sure the room was less open to the elements, but that didn't stop Yuko from decaying and festering in that room. Not only that, but she had run into Demetri, and he used the word "provoked" to describe what Katrina did to Tyrell. He wasn't wrong, but that word had great connotations that worked against Katrina. The kind that colored her before Yuka even met her.
Katrina lowered her head a bit. She hadn't done enough. And now Yuka and Teresa were furious at her, refusing to accept anything else from her. She expected that, but it still hurt.
Before she could do anything else, Yuka was charging at her. Katrina barely moved, her eyes widening and her mouth falling agape. She could see Yuka was pulling out a knife. Katrina raised her hands, keeping the sheathed sword up. Before she could protest, Roxie was suddenly in front of her. Katrina was knocked back a bit, but able to stay on her feet. She could tell Yuka was too close to Roxie, close enough that the knife had to go somewhere.
"Rox-!" was all Katrina could shout before she was deafened by a loud sound.
Suddenly, part of Roxie's head burst open. Some blood and other materials were jettisoned out. A little bit got on Katrina's face and shirt, causing her to scream out. Roxie crumpled to the ground. Katrina stepped back a bit, her breathing starting to get rapid. She could see Roxie was no longer moving.
"Oh god, Roxie! No!" she cried out.
She began to look around. The knife-wielding Yuka was still there, but who shot Roxie? Was it Teresa? Someone else? Katrina could feel tears start to well up in her eyes, and the nodachi began to ache in her hand from how tightly she gripped it.
She had failed Yuko. She hadn't made anything better. She hadn't changed at all. And now Roxie was dead, and there were at least two people who wanted her dead right before her.
Just what was she supposed to do now?
Katrina lowered her head a bit. She hadn't done enough. And now Yuka and Teresa were furious at her, refusing to accept anything else from her. She expected that, but it still hurt.
Before she could do anything else, Yuka was charging at her. Katrina barely moved, her eyes widening and her mouth falling agape. She could see Yuka was pulling out a knife. Katrina raised her hands, keeping the sheathed sword up. Before she could protest, Roxie was suddenly in front of her. Katrina was knocked back a bit, but able to stay on her feet. She could tell Yuka was too close to Roxie, close enough that the knife had to go somewhere.
"Rox-!" was all Katrina could shout before she was deafened by a loud sound.
Suddenly, part of Roxie's head burst open. Some blood and other materials were jettisoned out. A little bit got on Katrina's face and shirt, causing her to scream out. Roxie crumpled to the ground. Katrina stepped back a bit, her breathing starting to get rapid. She could see Roxie was no longer moving.
"Oh god, Roxie! No!" she cried out.
She began to look around. The knife-wielding Yuka was still there, but who shot Roxie? Was it Teresa? Someone else? Katrina could feel tears start to well up in her eyes, and the nodachi began to ache in her hand from how tightly she gripped it.
She had failed Yuko. She hadn't made anything better. She hadn't changed at all. And now Roxie was dead, and there were at least two people who wanted her dead right before her.
Just what was she supposed to do now?
The inciting action had been practiced a thousand times prior. The act of drawing a knife, swinging it, thrusting forward had been committed to physical memory, made reflexive, over a thousand attempts. It had happened in the houses after Teresa had had her little talk with Yuka. She had heard of Yuka's circumstances, she said. She could help her meet them, she promised with a smirk, a hand in Yuka's hand, a knife passed between them, and Yuka understood that Teresa understood what she needed.
In not one of those thousand instances had she imagined the presence of her friend, Roxie. In not one of those instances had she imagined her friend taking a knife and a bullet, in short order, for her sister's killer.
Yuka had been unstoppable for a few seconds, the denouement had been inevitable. She had propelled herself with such speed, flown forward with such momentum. She kept her eyes locked on Katrina's, took in the widening and shaking of her target's eyes. A death mask, mid-formation. And then the sight was obscured by another face, also frozen. The denouement, being rewritten before her very eyes.
It was not until after the knife vanished into Roxie's chest, the culmination of all that momentum, that the thought of stopping even occurred to Yuka. It was not until after the explosion, the obliteration of all that allowed Roxie to think and speak and beg and plead and befriend and be, that Roxie's final words registered to Yuka.
The two, Katrina and Yuka, stood still for a few seconds. Blood, old and new, coated and dripped from the knife, still in Yuka's grip, frozen from the moment she had stabbed Roxie. She inhaled and inhaled until she didn't, because she tasted copper. Bloody mush, mixed with smooth, hard, gristly bits of something had landed in Yuka's mouth, and so she doubled over and heaved.
It was a look Roxie would have died for, figuratively speaking. The instantaneous change from vibrant life to half-blasted off face, the wet, red stain on her shirt, the frozen look of panic, desperation. The transformative power of make-up. Her next video, her next look had always been on Roxie's mind.
In time, Yuka would ask herself where the bullet had come from. There were others, after all, in the area aside from the gang, Roxie, Katrina. Michael had a gun. Maybe the others did too.
But, at that moment, all she knew was that Katrina had taken yet another loved one from Yuka. Yuko hadn't been enough for her.
With a look of fury, Yuka pulled the knife back, and ran towards Katrina.
In not one of those thousand instances had she imagined the presence of her friend, Roxie. In not one of those instances had she imagined her friend taking a knife and a bullet, in short order, for her sister's killer.
Yuka had been unstoppable for a few seconds, the denouement had been inevitable. She had propelled herself with such speed, flown forward with such momentum. She kept her eyes locked on Katrina's, took in the widening and shaking of her target's eyes. A death mask, mid-formation. And then the sight was obscured by another face, also frozen. The denouement, being rewritten before her very eyes.
It was not until after the knife vanished into Roxie's chest, the culmination of all that momentum, that the thought of stopping even occurred to Yuka. It was not until after the explosion, the obliteration of all that allowed Roxie to think and speak and beg and plead and befriend and be, that Roxie's final words registered to Yuka.
The two, Katrina and Yuka, stood still for a few seconds. Blood, old and new, coated and dripped from the knife, still in Yuka's grip, frozen from the moment she had stabbed Roxie. She inhaled and inhaled until she didn't, because she tasted copper. Bloody mush, mixed with smooth, hard, gristly bits of something had landed in Yuka's mouth, and so she doubled over and heaved.
It was a look Roxie would have died for, figuratively speaking. The instantaneous change from vibrant life to half-blasted off face, the wet, red stain on her shirt, the frozen look of panic, desperation. The transformative power of make-up. Her next video, her next look had always been on Roxie's mind.
In time, Yuka would ask herself where the bullet had come from. There were others, after all, in the area aside from the gang, Roxie, Katrina. Michael had a gun. Maybe the others did too.
But, at that moment, all she knew was that Katrina had taken yet another loved one from Yuka. Yuko hadn't been enough for her.
With a look of fury, Yuka pulled the knife back, and ran towards Katrina.
Oh sweet Jesus. So much was going on. Everything happened so much. None of this was covered in the corporate sponsored training seminar.
Nerves were in overdrive, but from nervousness? Not really. Not the bad kind, anyway. Pure adrenaline, if anything.
Now it was a party. A ho down, anyway.
Yuka probably needed help a bit considering Katrina still had the fucking samurai sword, but also Willow was coming at like mach 10 with a.... a taser? Shit man, some girls had all the luck.
Oh well. Didn't really wanna use the whip, but like.... kinda had to now.
YEET!
Nerves were in overdrive, but from nervousness? Not really. Not the bad kind, anyway. Pure adrenaline, if anything.
Now it was a party. A ho down, anyway.
Yuka probably needed help a bit considering Katrina still had the fucking samurai sword, but also Willow was coming at like mach 10 with a.... a taser? Shit man, some girls had all the luck.
Oh well. Didn't really wanna use the whip, but like.... kinda had to now.
YEET!
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TheLordOfAwesome
- Posts: 489
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:37 pm
- Location: Washington
It was a strange thing, hearing a bullet whiz past your head. A sort of quick, loud, whistling sound that makes you instinctively duck your head a little. It was pure luck on Sierra's part that the bullet didn't make contact with her, however the same couldn't be said for Roxie who was struck instead. It took a moment to process what was happening. Roxie dropped, Kat screamed, Yuka and Teresa were here and attacking Kat, and apparently there was something shooting at them.
There was too much going on that trying to formulate a coherent thought was difficult with all the informational input.
In response to it all, Sierra pointed her gun into and pulled the trigger. A series of loud, rapid gunshots rang out into the air, an act meant to intimidate Yuka and Teresa in the hope of getting everyone to stop what they were doing.
"Fucking deal with this!" Sierra barked to Willow as she turned around to face the direction of where the gunshot came from. She saw bushes, but no shooter in sight.
She readied her gun, and started walking towards the bushes.
There was too much going on that trying to formulate a coherent thought was difficult with all the informational input.
In response to it all, Sierra pointed her gun into and pulled the trigger. A series of loud, rapid gunshots rang out into the air, an act meant to intimidate Yuka and Teresa in the hope of getting everyone to stop what they were doing.
"Fucking deal with this!" Sierra barked to Willow as she turned around to face the direction of where the gunshot came from. She saw bushes, but no shooter in sight.
She readied her gun, and started walking towards the bushes.
The chain wasn't just a chain is what Willow learned when she defended herself by putting her left arm up. There was this sharp bit at the end, clearly there so it would increase the overall damage of the weapon. Willow suddenly regretted her actions as it punctured her arm.
Honestly, if she wasn't on the receiving end of the weapon, she would be laughing. First her right side being shot out, and then her left side because stabbed, it was rather hilarious. It just wasn't funny to Willow since she was on the receiving end of
Instead, she was cackling. The noise was stuck in her throat, but it quickly left her mouth. The pain and the sound encompassed every senses she had without any lead for autonomy or independency. The chain had snatched her arm away from Willow and she was forced to drop her gun.
Willow didn't really care about the fact that her shitty gun #1 had plopped on the floor nor the fact that her left arm was swelling up from the bruises and the cuts and the bleeding. She really only care about grabbing that chain and yanking cult girl right into her stun gun.
The chain had snaked up Willow's biceps but her fingers were free to grab the blunt middle part. This weapon was absolute shit, but it had the range. Willow didn't have the range. It was tragic even if she loved her bits, but she didn't have the range to reach Teresa.
But now, she did.
"Gotcha' bitch," she cackled. Her stun gun was turning on and off and she smiled and she beamed and her teeth were ready to sink in.
Honestly, if she wasn't on the receiving end of the weapon, she would be laughing. First her right side being shot out, and then her left side because stabbed, it was rather hilarious. It just wasn't funny to Willow since she was on the receiving end of
Instead, she was cackling. The noise was stuck in her throat, but it quickly left her mouth. The pain and the sound encompassed every senses she had without any lead for autonomy or independency. The chain had snatched her arm away from Willow and she was forced to drop her gun.
Willow didn't really care about the fact that her shitty gun #1 had plopped on the floor nor the fact that her left arm was swelling up from the bruises and the cuts and the bleeding. She really only care about grabbing that chain and yanking cult girl right into her stun gun.
The chain had snaked up Willow's biceps but her fingers were free to grab the blunt middle part. This weapon was absolute shit, but it had the range. Willow didn't have the range. It was tragic even if she loved her bits, but she didn't have the range to reach Teresa.
But now, she did.
"Gotcha' bitch," she cackled. Her stun gun was turning on and off and she smiled and she beamed and her teeth were ready to sink in.
The sharp grin of ecstasy quickly morphed into a scowl of "oh shit" as Willow yanked the girl's chain and toppled her forward. Last things in her ear were the ZZT ZZT ZZT and Willow's laugh as the taser went into an exposed spot of skin.
The girl spasmed in the sand as every muscle and nerve twitched all at once.
It was quite refreshing, actually. Like, besides the pain and paralysis and terror and shit. But, ya know. Yeah. She was into it.
The girl spasmed in the sand as every muscle and nerve twitched all at once.
It was quite refreshing, actually. Like, besides the pain and paralysis and terror and shit. But, ya know. Yeah. She was into it.
Roxie fell. There was no theatrics. No dramatic fall to the knees. No unconscious muscle reflexes intended to minimize the hurt incurred by a sudden fall. She just fell. The impact of her head against the ground sent a wave sloshing through her head, which was then translated out onto the sand as a striking crimson splash. A slow, persistent flow of darker blood drained from a hole in her chest. Her body landed facing Mikey.
He stared into her eyes from afar, and Roxie did not stare back, though her eyes did. Her face twitched for a few seconds, and it almost looked like she was still alive, until, at last, her last firing neurons realized their control center was gone. She hadn't even known.
Her earlier body language had implied she'd been trying to deescalate the situation between Yuka and Katrina. The stab wound in her chest, too, implied it.
She'd died unbroken. She'd died with her humanity intact. She'd died still having some sense of dignity.
Roxanne Borowski had died as a person, not as what whatever everyone else on the beach had become.
It was bittersweet, Mikey supposed. She'd been a victim of circumstance, caught in the crossfire between two meaningless vendettas; but she'd died... relatively happy. A proactive mercy kill.
It was beautiful, too. The blood on the sand was like paint on a canvas. Mikey'd broken her central nervous system. Yuka'd broken her heart. Neither of them had intended to do so. The chances were one in a goddamn quadrillion.
"...," he said to someone other than himself, though his voice was covered by the gunshots Sierra fired into the sky. Two words, four syllables total.
Yuka looked like she was getting her revenge. Teresa looked like she was having... fun?
And then Mikey was gone, like a ghost, deeper into the forest. The only evidence he'd ever been in the bush was a single spent .45 ACP casing.
He wasn't running away this time.
He stared into her eyes from afar, and Roxie did not stare back, though her eyes did. Her face twitched for a few seconds, and it almost looked like she was still alive, until, at last, her last firing neurons realized their control center was gone. She hadn't even known.
Her earlier body language had implied she'd been trying to deescalate the situation between Yuka and Katrina. The stab wound in her chest, too, implied it.
She'd died unbroken. She'd died with her humanity intact. She'd died still having some sense of dignity.
Roxanne Borowski had died as a person, not as what whatever everyone else on the beach had become.
It was bittersweet, Mikey supposed. She'd been a victim of circumstance, caught in the crossfire between two meaningless vendettas; but she'd died... relatively happy. A proactive mercy kill.
It was beautiful, too. The blood on the sand was like paint on a canvas. Mikey'd broken her central nervous system. Yuka'd broken her heart. Neither of them had intended to do so. The chances were one in a goddamn quadrillion.
"...," he said to someone other than himself, though his voice was covered by the gunshots Sierra fired into the sky. Two words, four syllables total.
Yuka looked like she was getting her revenge. Teresa looked like she was having... fun?
And then Mikey was gone, like a ghost, deeper into the forest. The only evidence he'd ever been in the bush was a single spent .45 ACP casing.
He wasn't running away this time.
destroy the UN08/03/2019
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Micheal experienced super position wherein he was both Beryl and he was Beryl's RP site quote. He was sure he could be happy about this but he no longer knew what happiness meant.
Katrina gasped as Yuka began to run towards her. She really was going to kill her. It didn't matter that her aggression got Roxie unnecessarily killed. Yuka was hellbent on killing Katrina. It probably was still all Katrina's fault at the root of it, she could admit, but that didn't mean she wanted to die. Not if it meant Roxie had to die too. Not if it meant Yuko wouldn't come back.
As she charged, Katrina let out another cry as she swung the nodachi. The sword was still in its sheath, so it was a glorified stick right now. But Katrina felt it connect with Yuka's knife-wielding arm. She then heard a few popping sounds. It was more gunfire. Possibly from Roxie's killer? Combined with her sudden swing and the unsteadiness of the beach, Katrina stumbled and fell back.
Katrina began to scoot herself on the sand, kicking it up and trying not to let go of the sword. She could see Willow run up and attack Teresa. It looked like Willow hit her with a stun gun, so perhaps they could disarm Teresa at least. But Katrina couldn't focus on that. Yuka seemed to be recovering from the first swing, and was now looking at Katrina.
Katrina forced herself to her feet and held the nodachi tight in both hands.
"Yuka, please," she begged. "I don't want to fight."
She began to pull the sword out of the sheath. She hadn't drawn it since the first day, and yet here it was, out in the open, the sun reflecting off its blade.
"I don't want to kill you. I can't kill Yuko's last sister. Please."
Katrina dropped the sheath in the sand and put both hands on the handle. This had to scare Yuka away. This had to show Yuka that she would likely die if she tried to attack again. Katrina was mentally pleading with Yuka: please, walk away. Please just go.
Please.
As she charged, Katrina let out another cry as she swung the nodachi. The sword was still in its sheath, so it was a glorified stick right now. But Katrina felt it connect with Yuka's knife-wielding arm. She then heard a few popping sounds. It was more gunfire. Possibly from Roxie's killer? Combined with her sudden swing and the unsteadiness of the beach, Katrina stumbled and fell back.
Katrina began to scoot herself on the sand, kicking it up and trying not to let go of the sword. She could see Willow run up and attack Teresa. It looked like Willow hit her with a stun gun, so perhaps they could disarm Teresa at least. But Katrina couldn't focus on that. Yuka seemed to be recovering from the first swing, and was now looking at Katrina.
Katrina forced herself to her feet and held the nodachi tight in both hands.
"Yuka, please," she begged. "I don't want to fight."
She began to pull the sword out of the sheath. She hadn't drawn it since the first day, and yet here it was, out in the open, the sun reflecting off its blade.
"I don't want to kill you. I can't kill Yuko's last sister. Please."
Katrina dropped the sheath in the sand and put both hands on the handle. This had to scare Yuka away. This had to show Yuka that she would likely die if she tried to attack again. Katrina was mentally pleading with Yuka: please, walk away. Please just go.
Please.