((Tiny Sterling continued from And T'Were Well That She Stood))
Tiny had honestly had no plan of where to go with Galahad and he just pretty much wandered around aimlessly with him. It was bad that he had not made a plan of what to do next and the next thing he knew they had ended up on the beach somehow. It was a bit insulting how peaceful it looked there and he found himself taking a kick at the sand in spite.
While they had been walking around without a clue of what they were doing, Tiny had put the gun into his bag as he thought it would be wise to have one free hand handy and the pitchfork was pretty useful if anyone trying to get near him with a melee weapon of some sort. He had seen that Penny's blood was still on it and it was giving him the creeps. He was going to be branded as a murderer at some point and he wondered if that would make things more worse for him. What if it was good news and that no one would have the guts to mess with him? What if it had the opposite effect? He really wasn't sure how to feel about it. He had to wait and see what would happen.
Tiny found himself looking at Galahad who was a few steps in front of him and he realized that they hadn't said a word to each other ever since they had left the graveyard and Penny and Barry's bodies behind. Two people really were dead because of his selfish actions and he knew that he couldn't deny it. Even if the idea of being a murderer was.... so fucked up.
"Hey...." Tiny's voice came out a bit croaky and he knew that he was thirsty, clearing his throat and coughing a little. "Hey, Galahad, I'm gonn' clean Pen- the blood off of this. I think this is a good place to rest so make use of this beach while you can."
As if Galahad would want to stay with a murderin' asshole like you, Tiny. He's gonn' bail and then I will not have a possible shield.... Fuck it.
Tiny walked onward and he was getting closer to the water, trying not to think about everything that had happened at the graveyard. He hated that he was feeling guilty about what happened and he knew that it would be a weakness for him to continue show those emotions. Was there going to be a time when he would have to end Galahad's life?
He didn't want to think about it anymore.
Cake By The Ocean
(Before The Second Announcement) Open
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Primrosette
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((Rajni continued from Tonight's Biggest Loser))
Hooooly fucking wank that had been intense.
Of the things that Rajni had expected to see today, a fucking air strike had not been on the list. Who did that!? What absolute headcase responded to vandalism with a helicopter?
Americans were certified, straight up.
She just couldn't get her head around it. That was mental, completely mental. More mental than Yian killing Fisher-except-actually-Cedric. Like, even on the scale of being somewhere in America waiting around to kill each other, that fell completely off the far end and took a swan dive into a rubbish heap. It was bonkers enough that Rajni had actually spent a few minutes after she stopped running devoting some serious thought as to whether she was dreaming. Unfortunately after kicking herself a couple times, splashing water on her face, and finally forcing herself to sneeze, she had to conclude that no, that had genuinely just happened. Bit fucking excessive, no? She felt a slight bit bad for running away, but like, if Yian and Phoebe hadn't they were not the sharpest spoons in the drawer, so she couldn't beat herself up too much.
The beach was nothing special. She'd been to nicer with mum and dad. Blackpool, back when she vaguely remembered things being a Bit Less Shit when she was little. There'd been the sun and swimming cozzies and ice cream, as well as what Rajni suspected was far too long in the car with a nine year old belting along to the radio.
Whatever, her sandcastles had been amazing.
By comparison, this beach was just grubby. A lot of shite was on the sand and Rajni didn't want to think too hard about what it might be. Driftwood, rubbish and piles of seaweed. Better not to cast her torch over the lumps and bumps and so on, just in case, you know?
Critique on the environment asides, it wasn't long before Rajni caught sight of others out there on the sand. Two... guys? She wanted to say guys. It was pretty gloomy right now.
This netgun was heavy as hell.
"Hey, so, don't know if you saw, but that fucking helicopter, right boys?"
Hooooly fucking wank that had been intense.
Of the things that Rajni had expected to see today, a fucking air strike had not been on the list. Who did that!? What absolute headcase responded to vandalism with a helicopter?
Americans were certified, straight up.
She just couldn't get her head around it. That was mental, completely mental. More mental than Yian killing Fisher-except-actually-Cedric. Like, even on the scale of being somewhere in America waiting around to kill each other, that fell completely off the far end and took a swan dive into a rubbish heap. It was bonkers enough that Rajni had actually spent a few minutes after she stopped running devoting some serious thought as to whether she was dreaming. Unfortunately after kicking herself a couple times, splashing water on her face, and finally forcing herself to sneeze, she had to conclude that no, that had genuinely just happened. Bit fucking excessive, no? She felt a slight bit bad for running away, but like, if Yian and Phoebe hadn't they were not the sharpest spoons in the drawer, so she couldn't beat herself up too much.
The beach was nothing special. She'd been to nicer with mum and dad. Blackpool, back when she vaguely remembered things being a Bit Less Shit when she was little. There'd been the sun and swimming cozzies and ice cream, as well as what Rajni suspected was far too long in the car with a nine year old belting along to the radio.
Whatever, her sandcastles had been amazing.
By comparison, this beach was just grubby. A lot of shite was on the sand and Rajni didn't want to think too hard about what it might be. Driftwood, rubbish and piles of seaweed. Better not to cast her torch over the lumps and bumps and so on, just in case, you know?
Critique on the environment asides, it wasn't long before Rajni caught sight of others out there on the sand. Two... guys? She wanted to say guys. It was pretty gloomy right now.
This netgun was heavy as hell.
"Hey, so, don't know if you saw, but that fucking helicopter, right boys?"
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Pippi
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((Galahad Matthews continued from And T'Were Well That She Stood))
“Mmm?”
Galahad knew he probably should have been paying closer attention to Tiny, considering this was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the graveyard, but he had other things on his mind at present. It was hard to focus when you were coated in sweat, after all. He had hoped that the cool night breeze would do something to alleviate that, along with the fact that he’d finally gotten comfortable carrying Michael around; he still had to hold the axe in both hands, but that was preferable to letting it drag along in the dirt behind him.
But it turned out that following someone who could shoot Galahad whenever he got bored wasn’t exactly a tonic to soothe one’s nerves.
Then, of course, there was the helicopter that had flown overhead earlier. Galahad hadn’t caught a glimpse of it, he’d been too focused on keeping his head down low and following Tiny, but it had been pretty hard to miss the din it threw up. For a brief moment, his heart had come to a standstill as he wondered whether Barry had been right all along, and the RAF really had sent people to rescue them after all. But then it had gone, and so too had Galahad’s brief moment of hope, and fear, and horror that Barry’s salvation had only arrived after he was long dead.
There was still a chance, though. Still a chance, however slim that rescue could come their way.
He still didn’t know how to feel about that.
Instead, Galahad tried to focus on what Tiny had just said to him, dredging up his words from a few moments ago. He almost laughed again, but caught the noise in his throat. He didn’t feel safe laughing whilst he was around Tiny. Just in case.
God, this whole thing was fucked up.
“Sure,” was all he ended up saying, taking a glance around the beach they’d ended up on. ‘Make use of the beach’, the guy said, like he was about to pull out a beachball and bodyboard and set up a lovely little lunch with scotch eggs and sausage rolls and copious amounts of sand getting into all the food.
If only.
He dug Michael’s head into the sand, wiping his brow clear of sweat. Tiny was the only one with a torch out, and it was currently focused on the ocean, so all he had as a lightsource was the moon, reflecting off the water. There was piles of crap littered all over the sand, rocks and seaweed and flotsam and jetsam.
Oh, and a girl walking towards them. That was something.
Galahad glanced behind him at Tiny briefly, before giving the girl a pale imitation of a smile. He recognised Rajni at least, so that was nice. Nothing more than that; she played football, but in a much more casual manner, more the sort of person to go for a kickaround at the park than anything else. But maybe it was better he’d bumped into someone he only vaguely knew, rather than a close friend. For one, he was fucking exhausted, utterly drained, and barely able to raise his hand for a weak little wave.
He didn’t want to think about the other.
“Hey, uh, Rajni,” he said, voice quieter than he knew it could go. “We, uh… didn’t see it. But I heard it when we were walking here, we haven’t been here long.”
Galahad paused, long enough for the realisation that the announcement would play soon, and Rajni would hear Tiny’s name on it, and see Galahad sticking tight to Tiny, to wash over him again. She had... something, something that looked like a gun in her hands, something she could very easily turn on them both the moment the news of Tiny's crimes spread across town.
“What, uh… what do you think it was here for?” he said, desperately trying to ignore the revelation for the moment.
“Mmm?”
Galahad knew he probably should have been paying closer attention to Tiny, considering this was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the graveyard, but he had other things on his mind at present. It was hard to focus when you were coated in sweat, after all. He had hoped that the cool night breeze would do something to alleviate that, along with the fact that he’d finally gotten comfortable carrying Michael around; he still had to hold the axe in both hands, but that was preferable to letting it drag along in the dirt behind him.
But it turned out that following someone who could shoot Galahad whenever he got bored wasn’t exactly a tonic to soothe one’s nerves.
Then, of course, there was the helicopter that had flown overhead earlier. Galahad hadn’t caught a glimpse of it, he’d been too focused on keeping his head down low and following Tiny, but it had been pretty hard to miss the din it threw up. For a brief moment, his heart had come to a standstill as he wondered whether Barry had been right all along, and the RAF really had sent people to rescue them after all. But then it had gone, and so too had Galahad’s brief moment of hope, and fear, and horror that Barry’s salvation had only arrived after he was long dead.
There was still a chance, though. Still a chance, however slim that rescue could come their way.
He still didn’t know how to feel about that.
Instead, Galahad tried to focus on what Tiny had just said to him, dredging up his words from a few moments ago. He almost laughed again, but caught the noise in his throat. He didn’t feel safe laughing whilst he was around Tiny. Just in case.
God, this whole thing was fucked up.
“Sure,” was all he ended up saying, taking a glance around the beach they’d ended up on. ‘Make use of the beach’, the guy said, like he was about to pull out a beachball and bodyboard and set up a lovely little lunch with scotch eggs and sausage rolls and copious amounts of sand getting into all the food.
If only.
He dug Michael’s head into the sand, wiping his brow clear of sweat. Tiny was the only one with a torch out, and it was currently focused on the ocean, so all he had as a lightsource was the moon, reflecting off the water. There was piles of crap littered all over the sand, rocks and seaweed and flotsam and jetsam.
Oh, and a girl walking towards them. That was something.
Galahad glanced behind him at Tiny briefly, before giving the girl a pale imitation of a smile. He recognised Rajni at least, so that was nice. Nothing more than that; she played football, but in a much more casual manner, more the sort of person to go for a kickaround at the park than anything else. But maybe it was better he’d bumped into someone he only vaguely knew, rather than a close friend. For one, he was fucking exhausted, utterly drained, and barely able to raise his hand for a weak little wave.
He didn’t want to think about the other.
“Hey, uh, Rajni,” he said, voice quieter than he knew it could go. “We, uh… didn’t see it. But I heard it when we were walking here, we haven’t been here long.”
Galahad paused, long enough for the realisation that the announcement would play soon, and Rajni would hear Tiny’s name on it, and see Galahad sticking tight to Tiny, to wash over him again. She had... something, something that looked like a gun in her hands, something she could very easily turn on them both the moment the news of Tiny's crimes spread across town.
“What, uh… what do you think it was here for?” he said, desperately trying to ignore the revelation for the moment.
((Oliver Davies continued from Sixes and Sevens))
Oliver needed to get some sleep, because nights were for sleeping, but if it wasn't just the pounding of his temples, then the fact that his head had been hit hard enough to start bleeding was stopping him from getting the rest he so desperately needed. If he was going to keep on going with what he needed to do here, he needed to get rest and make sure he was alert and ready, but the fact remained he was injured and he didn't know how badly.
The rest of the night was a bloody awful one, because for one he couldn't hold the gun nor the torch in his hands without massive shaking throwing of all potential aim, and for another he was so constantly on edge - couldn't lay down, might fall asleep; couldn't even sit or lie on an incline, still too much risk. He'd been following the map around, looking for people who weren't crazy or out to win, yet the amount of people he'd encountered he was still at two, while the amount of living people was still at one, since Anvi wasn't getting up.
He hadn't had time to think about Anvi, because she wasn't important right now. What was important was finding someone to help him, and he could consider her later. Every time his thoughts returned to her vacant expression staring into the abyss of space the pounding of his head just drowned it out. She'd done this to him on her way out, like a sick parting gift. He couldn't even get angry - he could, since he was just a ball of simmering anger at his own condition, but the fact of the matter still remained that he deserved what he got from her, considering it was his trigger finger and his own taunting words which got them to the positions they were in.
Eventually, some small light broke the misty night, and Oliver realized he was hearing voices. They weren't speaking to him, at least as far as he could tell, but they were in the distance somewhere. It was always possible the head wound was beginning to cause hallucinations, and these were indeed problems he'd have to deal with sooner rather than later. But the fact of the matter was that voices meant people, people meant more than one, and more than one probably meant that people weren't crazy psychopaths who were out to kill everyone; killing everyone meant you couldn't group up, even though Oliver was now making his way towards the sand from whatever metal wall he'd been leaning against like a discarded doll for one, or two, or six hours now, or maybe he was only there for seconds, he couldn't tell because everything in his head was hurt.
It was strange suddenly not worrying about being smart because when you're delirious from lack of sleep and the only feeling you've known since your first murder is pain, you become desperate, and whoever these people were they were going to have to help him. His back felt stiff as he walked, as though he was carrying a large cannon on his back rather than just the one in his back pocket. Maybe he was a zombie now, the gait matched. Maybe he'd died when Anvi hit him and the only reason she was killed by him was because she didn't expect the dead boy to come back to life and shoot holes in her, which is why there were splashes of blood on his school uniform which he hadn't taken off at all, not even the blazer.
And suddenly he was close to these people. Not in their space, because he wasn't rude, no sir. But he could see them, and they could more than likely see him, considering they weren't all facing in the exact same direction away from him. Or maybe they were, because Oliver suddenly realized their faces were suddenly swirls of muted colour and smoothness.
Before Oliver realized what he was seeing, or rather what he wasn't seeing, or the fact he'd been standing there not speaking for a time he couldn't measure, a large cold shiver ran from his toes to the top of his scalp, and Oliver suddenly fell to his knees, and then face first to the sand.
His eyes were finally closed, and all he could see was black, but only reason he knew he was still conscious was because he could still feel the sand against his skin, shifting forever.
Oliver needed to get some sleep, because nights were for sleeping, but if it wasn't just the pounding of his temples, then the fact that his head had been hit hard enough to start bleeding was stopping him from getting the rest he so desperately needed. If he was going to keep on going with what he needed to do here, he needed to get rest and make sure he was alert and ready, but the fact remained he was injured and he didn't know how badly.
The rest of the night was a bloody awful one, because for one he couldn't hold the gun nor the torch in his hands without massive shaking throwing of all potential aim, and for another he was so constantly on edge - couldn't lay down, might fall asleep; couldn't even sit or lie on an incline, still too much risk. He'd been following the map around, looking for people who weren't crazy or out to win, yet the amount of people he'd encountered he was still at two, while the amount of living people was still at one, since Anvi wasn't getting up.
He hadn't had time to think about Anvi, because she wasn't important right now. What was important was finding someone to help him, and he could consider her later. Every time his thoughts returned to her vacant expression staring into the abyss of space the pounding of his head just drowned it out. She'd done this to him on her way out, like a sick parting gift. He couldn't even get angry - he could, since he was just a ball of simmering anger at his own condition, but the fact of the matter still remained that he deserved what he got from her, considering it was his trigger finger and his own taunting words which got them to the positions they were in.
Eventually, some small light broke the misty night, and Oliver realized he was hearing voices. They weren't speaking to him, at least as far as he could tell, but they were in the distance somewhere. It was always possible the head wound was beginning to cause hallucinations, and these were indeed problems he'd have to deal with sooner rather than later. But the fact of the matter was that voices meant people, people meant more than one, and more than one probably meant that people weren't crazy psychopaths who were out to kill everyone; killing everyone meant you couldn't group up, even though Oliver was now making his way towards the sand from whatever metal wall he'd been leaning against like a discarded doll for one, or two, or six hours now, or maybe he was only there for seconds, he couldn't tell because everything in his head was hurt.
It was strange suddenly not worrying about being smart because when you're delirious from lack of sleep and the only feeling you've known since your first murder is pain, you become desperate, and whoever these people were they were going to have to help him. His back felt stiff as he walked, as though he was carrying a large cannon on his back rather than just the one in his back pocket. Maybe he was a zombie now, the gait matched. Maybe he'd died when Anvi hit him and the only reason she was killed by him was because she didn't expect the dead boy to come back to life and shoot holes in her, which is why there were splashes of blood on his school uniform which he hadn't taken off at all, not even the blazer.
And suddenly he was close to these people. Not in their space, because he wasn't rude, no sir. But he could see them, and they could more than likely see him, considering they weren't all facing in the exact same direction away from him. Or maybe they were, because Oliver suddenly realized their faces were suddenly swirls of muted colour and smoothness.
Before Oliver realized what he was seeing, or rather what he wasn't seeing, or the fact he'd been standing there not speaking for a time he couldn't measure, a large cold shiver ran from his toes to the top of his scalp, and Oliver suddenly fell to his knees, and then face first to the sand.
His eyes were finally closed, and all he could see was black, but only reason he knew he was still conscious was because he could still feel the sand against his skin, shifting forever.
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Primrosette
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Tiny was busy trying to clean the blood off of the pickaxe when he heard a female voice talking to him and Galahad and he turned his head slightly to look at the other two. Ah, so it is Rajni. She was asking about the helicopter that they had heard and he remembered an explosion off in the distance. Whatever had happened had not been good at all.
"Hmph. That helicopter was obviously takin' care of some business." Tiny said casually as he realized that he had managed to get most of the dried blood off of his weapon and he turned around more to look at Galahad and Rajni. "I'm guessin' that some troublemaker broke the rules and got themselves blown the fuck up."
Tiny then noticed out of the corner of his eye a guy was approaching them and he saw that it was Oliver what's-his-face. Tiny honestly didn't really care about the guy but then he saw the boy fall and faceplanted the sand. He then knew that he had to take a caring approach and now he was-
But before he could do anything, the announcement was buzzing to life. Well, this was bad timing to heard his name but he couldn't do anything about it.
"Hmph. That helicopter was obviously takin' care of some business." Tiny said casually as he realized that he had managed to get most of the dried blood off of his weapon and he turned around more to look at Galahad and Rajni. "I'm guessin' that some troublemaker broke the rules and got themselves blown the fuck up."
Tiny then noticed out of the corner of his eye a guy was approaching them and he saw that it was Oliver what's-his-face. Tiny honestly didn't really care about the guy but then he saw the boy fall and faceplanted the sand. He then knew that he had to take a caring approach and now he was-
But before he could do anything, the announcement was buzzing to life. Well, this was bad timing to heard his name but he couldn't do anything about it.
It took a while longer than Rajni was comfortable with to figure out who the twosome down on the beach were. What happened earlier in the day, as well as the voice on the radio, had made it obvious that everything was mental and when everything was mental you had to maybe think a bit harder about the trust thing. Which in itself was pretty shit but so was A) being in America-sort-of B) the high liklihood of getting shot at C) she was pretty sure she had something in her shoe. The list could go on--oh yeah, D) fucking air strike! What the fuck was up with that?
Anyway, the point was that the time between 'seeing guys' and 'IDing guys' was longer than Rajni was comfortable with at the minute. The stupid thing (well to be honest there were like fifteen stupid things, for example AIR STRIKE, but one at a time) about it was that she couldn't even be relieved when she figured out that the first of the pair to greet her was Galahad, who she was pretty sure could get into a fight with a fly and lose, because if Yian could kill someone then how the hell could she discount Galahad? Maybe he'd laid down in front of someone so they could walk all over him and they'd tripped and broken their neck. So yeah, he was supposed to be safe but Rajni really didn't know that she could slap that label on him. Like, come on, imagine going all like 'oh this person can't possible threaten me!' and then turning your back and then they shanked you in the livers, and then you had to go down as the person who got liverstabbed by Galahad 'who the fuck named you' Matthews.
The other, bigger guy was Tiny, who was a nob.
Her icebreaker seemed to do the trick as the two of them both commented on the helicopter, Tiny true to form in exactly the kind of way to maximise his all-around nobbiness. However, before she could explain the sitch, someone else rocked up. Ollie, who she knew mostly from kickabouts on the yard during lunchtimes--she felt like she'd maybe hoofed a ball pointblank into his face at some stage but maybe that was someone else--staggered his way up and introduced himself by eating a mouthful of sound.
Well. Okay.
Wait. Fuck, he wasn't dead, was he!?
A step and a hesitant half towards Ollie and the dude came back on over the PA and promptly called Tiny out as a yet bigger nob for having killed Penelope. Rajni froze in her tracks.
"Soooooo..."
The negtun felt really fucking heavy.
Oh, and Ollie had murdered Anvi because of-fucking-course he had. Who the fuck was Rajni gonna annoy with stupid Hindi puns now?
Anyway, the point was that the time between 'seeing guys' and 'IDing guys' was longer than Rajni was comfortable with at the minute. The stupid thing (well to be honest there were like fifteen stupid things, for example AIR STRIKE, but one at a time) about it was that she couldn't even be relieved when she figured out that the first of the pair to greet her was Galahad, who she was pretty sure could get into a fight with a fly and lose, because if Yian could kill someone then how the hell could she discount Galahad? Maybe he'd laid down in front of someone so they could walk all over him and they'd tripped and broken their neck. So yeah, he was supposed to be safe but Rajni really didn't know that she could slap that label on him. Like, come on, imagine going all like 'oh this person can't possible threaten me!' and then turning your back and then they shanked you in the livers, and then you had to go down as the person who got liverstabbed by Galahad 'who the fuck named you' Matthews.
The other, bigger guy was Tiny, who was a nob.
Her icebreaker seemed to do the trick as the two of them both commented on the helicopter, Tiny true to form in exactly the kind of way to maximise his all-around nobbiness. However, before she could explain the sitch, someone else rocked up. Ollie, who she knew mostly from kickabouts on the yard during lunchtimes--she felt like she'd maybe hoofed a ball pointblank into his face at some stage but maybe that was someone else--staggered his way up and introduced himself by eating a mouthful of sound.
Well. Okay.
Wait. Fuck, he wasn't dead, was he!?
A step and a hesitant half towards Ollie and the dude came back on over the PA and promptly called Tiny out as a yet bigger nob for having killed Penelope. Rajni froze in her tracks.
"Soooooo..."
The negtun felt really fucking heavy.
Oh, and Ollie had murdered Anvi because of-fucking-course he had. Who the fuck was Rajni gonna annoy with stupid Hindi puns now?
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Pippi
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Right, cool, yeah. The helicopter was the Yanks sent to deal with some troublemaker or something, whatever. Suddenly, that didn’t seem like a big deal anymore, and suddenly, it was very very very cold on the beach, far colder than even the ocean breeze should have been making it, and suddenly, Galahad had found himself in the middle of a Mexican standoff.
If he’d had any clue where they actually were, and wasn’t scared out of his wits at the fact his revelation had come true far sooner than he’d expected, he might have let out a nervous little chuckle. A Mexican standoff in Mexico. Ha ha. Ho ho.
Oh God. This had gone downhill so fast.
He barely had time to digest the fact that it had been Penny, not Tiny, who had ended up shooting Barry, nor the person who had just rolled up to promptly face plant into the sand like he was William the Conqueror. His focus was fixed on Tiny, holding his pitchfork, and Rajni, wielding a bizarre contraption that looked far, far too terrifyingly like a gun. For his part, Michael was glued to his hands, not likely to be dropped anytime soon, but also not likely to be moving at all either
He could tell what Rajni’s feelings towards Tiny were. If you didn’t feel one, or a mix, of anger, distrust, or fear towards someone who’s name had been on the announcements, there was something seriously wrong with you. It was how she viewed Galahad himself that he was deathly uncertain about. Did she follow the creed of guilty by association? Hell, wasn’t he guilty, by virtue of subserviently following along with Tiny without even a shred of resistance?
That was a step too far to think about in this situation, though, as Galahad’s mind raced to try and think of what to do now, and he settled on one thing; making a show of good faith.
“Um… I, uh…. h-hey! Hey, are you all right?”
Galahad suddenly blurted the words out before turning to head over to the prone boy. Going to help someone who might have been injured or was sick, that’d show Rajni he was a good guy, right?
It wasn’t until he was within touching distance of the boy that he recognised him as Oliver Davies, and remembered that Ollie’s name had been on the announcement not 30 seconds ago.
Balls.
If he’d had any clue where they actually were, and wasn’t scared out of his wits at the fact his revelation had come true far sooner than he’d expected, he might have let out a nervous little chuckle. A Mexican standoff in Mexico. Ha ha. Ho ho.
Oh God. This had gone downhill so fast.
He barely had time to digest the fact that it had been Penny, not Tiny, who had ended up shooting Barry, nor the person who had just rolled up to promptly face plant into the sand like he was William the Conqueror. His focus was fixed on Tiny, holding his pitchfork, and Rajni, wielding a bizarre contraption that looked far, far too terrifyingly like a gun. For his part, Michael was glued to his hands, not likely to be dropped anytime soon, but also not likely to be moving at all either
He could tell what Rajni’s feelings towards Tiny were. If you didn’t feel one, or a mix, of anger, distrust, or fear towards someone who’s name had been on the announcements, there was something seriously wrong with you. It was how she viewed Galahad himself that he was deathly uncertain about. Did she follow the creed of guilty by association? Hell, wasn’t he guilty, by virtue of subserviently following along with Tiny without even a shred of resistance?
That was a step too far to think about in this situation, though, as Galahad’s mind raced to try and think of what to do now, and he settled on one thing; making a show of good faith.
“Um… I, uh…. h-hey! Hey, are you all right?”
Galahad suddenly blurted the words out before turning to head over to the prone boy. Going to help someone who might have been injured or was sick, that’d show Rajni he was a good guy, right?
It wasn’t until he was within touching distance of the boy that he recognised him as Oliver Davies, and remembered that Ollie’s name had been on the announcement not 30 seconds ago.
Balls.
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Primrosette
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Well, that announcement just made him look like more of an asshole and Tiny kind of figured that he would screwed. He knew that Rajni didn't really like him that much and he noticed the netgun that she was holding. Did he have to tell her that it was accidental murder? Hell, there was a chance that she could believe that he was straight up lying and she possibly would think he was a cold-blooded killer. Not that he wanted to kill again unless he had no choice in the matter. He still wanted to survive until the end and if he didn't.... He would take down whoever tries to kill him with him in death. He really was that selfish of a bastard.
"Penny's death was an accident. I never meant for her to die, Rajni." Tiny said simply with a tired look on his face and he hoped that she didn't think that he was bullshitting her. He did feel a bit of guilt over Penny but he couldn't let it show. "But that is up to you if you believe me or not. I don't want no trouble right now. Okay?"
Tiny was slightly surprised that he was not the only killer on the beach right now and he felt himself frowning at what Oliver did to Anvi. It sounded like the guy went completely psycho on the girl that he murdered and Tiny wasn't sure how to feel about that. If they tried to help this guy.... Was there a possibility that Oliver could turn on the three of them? Tiny didn't want to take that chance. But now it was too late as Galahad was approaching the fallen murderer and trying to be the good Samaritan for god knows what reason.
"Galahad!" Tiny called out to him and then wondered why he even cared. Galahad had a weapon that he could protect himself with. But Tiny knew that Galahad had been too afraid to use it on him and Tiny had to make sure that Galahad was around for a bit longer. "Be careful near that guy. Do you really want to help him...?"
"Penny's death was an accident. I never meant for her to die, Rajni." Tiny said simply with a tired look on his face and he hoped that she didn't think that he was bullshitting her. He did feel a bit of guilt over Penny but he couldn't let it show. "But that is up to you if you believe me or not. I don't want no trouble right now. Okay?"
Tiny was slightly surprised that he was not the only killer on the beach right now and he felt himself frowning at what Oliver did to Anvi. It sounded like the guy went completely psycho on the girl that he murdered and Tiny wasn't sure how to feel about that. If they tried to help this guy.... Was there a possibility that Oliver could turn on the three of them? Tiny didn't want to take that chance. But now it was too late as Galahad was approaching the fallen murderer and trying to be the good Samaritan for god knows what reason.
"Galahad!" Tiny called out to him and then wondered why he even cared. Galahad had a weapon that he could protect himself with. But Tiny knew that Galahad had been too afraid to use it on him and Tiny had to make sure that Galahad was around for a bit longer. "Be careful near that guy. Do you really want to help him...?"
Here was the thing, neither Tiny or Ollie sounded like they'd had a jolly little misunderstanding ending with a spot of murder. Shooting someone, Rajni could understand--wait no, no she really couldn't, but she could at least picture in her head a situation where you might pull the trigger and kill someone without meaning to. Shooting someone repeatedly, though? That was getting a bit much into 'they threw themselves repeatedly backwards onto knives' territory for her liking, by which she meant at all.
Which, on the other side of the argument, didn't stop Tiny from claiming basically that. As if he wasn't already treading bold new ground in being a dickhead.
"Right, obviously you mistook her for a hay bale. Easy mistake, blood."
She probably shouldn't take the piss out of him when he'd killed Penny. And wasn't that a... thing in and of itself. Penny was d-e dead, along with Cedric and Anvi and everyone-fucking-else that the guy had called out.
Rajni hadn't forgotten the helicopter.
She looked between Tiny and Galahad (with attendant unconscious murderboy).
"Yeah look out, mate. Might stab you. Oh, wait."
It occurred to her that the two of them had been travelling together, and from the fact that Tiny didn't bother addressing Galahad when making excuses, he already knew. He had to at least be kind of okay with what Tiny had done, or else so spineless as to not stand up to him. In her opinion, those were pretty much identical.
Could she hit Tiny with a net from here? What would that even do? A Tiny netted was hardly a death sentence, it was a net and it was Tiny. This wasn't a video game, it wouldn't subdue him permanently. Like, easily it could just annoy him or make him think that she was the next great hay bale in his life.
She took one step to her right, angling Galahad and Ollie ever so slightly further between her and Tiny.
Which, on the other side of the argument, didn't stop Tiny from claiming basically that. As if he wasn't already treading bold new ground in being a dickhead.
"Right, obviously you mistook her for a hay bale. Easy mistake, blood."
She probably shouldn't take the piss out of him when he'd killed Penny. And wasn't that a... thing in and of itself. Penny was d-e dead, along with Cedric and Anvi and everyone-fucking-else that the guy had called out.
Rajni hadn't forgotten the helicopter.
She looked between Tiny and Galahad (with attendant unconscious murderboy).
"Yeah look out, mate. Might stab you. Oh, wait."
It occurred to her that the two of them had been travelling together, and from the fact that Tiny didn't bother addressing Galahad when making excuses, he already knew. He had to at least be kind of okay with what Tiny had done, or else so spineless as to not stand up to him. In her opinion, those were pretty much identical.
Could she hit Tiny with a net from here? What would that even do? A Tiny netted was hardly a death sentence, it was a net and it was Tiny. This wasn't a video game, it wouldn't subdue him permanently. Like, easily it could just annoy him or make him think that she was the next great hay bale in his life.
She took one step to her right, angling Galahad and Ollie ever so slightly further between her and Tiny.
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Pippi
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Yeah, this idea had near instantaneously gone south.
Rajni’s ire wasn’t specifically directed at Galahad, manifesting more as general sarcasm at everyone and everything in the vicinity, but she also hadn’t done anything to suggest that she was in his corner, either. And why would she? He’d been palling around with one known killer and had just gone to help another. As far as she could tell, his corner and Tiny’s were one and the same.
Tiny said something to him, and Galahad really wished he could make a chart right about now, a spreadsheet documenting all the stupid shit Tiny said that he wanted to make a snappy retort to. If they were somewhere else. If he had a spine. No, he didn’t really wanna help Oliver, now that Galahad could see he was just unconscious and also had a kill to his name. But he also didn’t really want to help Tiny either. And look where he was anyway.
Everything was too quiet and too loud. The tension flooded the beach, so thick it was suffocating, surrounding him and making him all too acutely aware of his own heavy, harsh breathing. What now? What in god’s name did he do now? He was balanced on a knife’s edge, positioned right in the middle of two people with guns – because what else could Rajni be holding but a firearm? – and one wrong move would put him in the crosshairs either way.
He had to get onto Rajni’s side, then. It was the only thing he could do. He had to try again.
“I’m not… I’m not gonna do anything, Rajni. Okay?”
As Galahad spoke, his hands cracked open, and the fireaxe spilled out, tumbling down into the sand at his feet.
“I’m not gonna do anything stupid, I don’t wanna… hurt anyone… I just… wanna see Freya again…”
Rajni’s ire wasn’t specifically directed at Galahad, manifesting more as general sarcasm at everyone and everything in the vicinity, but she also hadn’t done anything to suggest that she was in his corner, either. And why would she? He’d been palling around with one known killer and had just gone to help another. As far as she could tell, his corner and Tiny’s were one and the same.
Tiny said something to him, and Galahad really wished he could make a chart right about now, a spreadsheet documenting all the stupid shit Tiny said that he wanted to make a snappy retort to. If they were somewhere else. If he had a spine. No, he didn’t really wanna help Oliver, now that Galahad could see he was just unconscious and also had a kill to his name. But he also didn’t really want to help Tiny either. And look where he was anyway.
Everything was too quiet and too loud. The tension flooded the beach, so thick it was suffocating, surrounding him and making him all too acutely aware of his own heavy, harsh breathing. What now? What in god’s name did he do now? He was balanced on a knife’s edge, positioned right in the middle of two people with guns – because what else could Rajni be holding but a firearm? – and one wrong move would put him in the crosshairs either way.
He had to get onto Rajni’s side, then. It was the only thing he could do. He had to try again.
“I’m not… I’m not gonna do anything, Rajni. Okay?”
As Galahad spoke, his hands cracked open, and the fireaxe spilled out, tumbling down into the sand at his feet.
“I’m not gonna do anything stupid, I don’t wanna… hurt anyone… I just… wanna see Freya again…”
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Primrosette
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Well, Rajni's sarcasm was definitely not helping matters and it was just making Tiny feel a bit annoyed at having to deal with her. Now he really wished that Penny was here to be a quiet companion. Quiet companions like Penny and Galahad had been perfect beforehand. Now he could definitely feel the tension between the three of them.
Tiny let out a frustrated sigh as he watched Galahad freaked out and dropped the fireaxe onto the ground. Tiny noticed that he was mentioning Freya and Tiny knew that he should had just let Galahad go off on his own before. But Tiny had been a greedy bastard who wanted to have a weak toy.
….Should I let him go now? Heck, he could take Rajni with him for all I care! I could take care of Oliver then. No, no. I don't want another name to the list. I don't want a bigger target on my back.... Unless Oliver could become more of a problem alive. Ah, what to do?
"Like I said, I don't want any trouble with you, Rajni. I just want to be left alone." Tiny said in a calming tone of voice, even though he was pissed off at her unnecessary comments and he made sure that the pitchfork was lowered by his side. "Galahad, if you wann' go, just fuckin' go and find your girlfriend. And take her with you. You guys are givin' me a shitty headache."
Tiny let out a frustrated sigh as he watched Galahad freaked out and dropped the fireaxe onto the ground. Tiny noticed that he was mentioning Freya and Tiny knew that he should had just let Galahad go off on his own before. But Tiny had been a greedy bastard who wanted to have a weak toy.
….Should I let him go now? Heck, he could take Rajni with him for all I care! I could take care of Oliver then. No, no. I don't want another name to the list. I don't want a bigger target on my back.... Unless Oliver could become more of a problem alive. Ah, what to do?
"Like I said, I don't want any trouble with you, Rajni. I just want to be left alone." Tiny said in a calming tone of voice, even though he was pissed off at her unnecessary comments and he made sure that the pitchfork was lowered by his side. "Galahad, if you wann' go, just fuckin' go and find your girlfriend. And take her with you. You guys are givin' me a shitty headache."
Oliver had been barely clinging to consciousness as the voices murmured above him. The sands kept him awake. His mouth twitched open and grains fell in, only a few but enough. It tasted terrible.
It was a good guess, assuming they wouldn't kill him. But at the moment everything hurt, and for a brief few seconds he considered how much he wouldn't be hurting if he was dead. There wasn't time to think it over. He wasn't dead, and he wasn't going to be yet. But slipping into sleep just seemed so alluring right now, like it would make everything feel better, it would stop the crusting gash on the back of his head and the stabbing in his temples and the swirling in his stomach and
"Shitty headache."
"Shitty headache."
"Shitty headache."
YOU CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP OR YOU WILL FUCKING DIE.
Oliver jerked upwards from the sand with a loud guttural gasp and something between a shriek and a yell following. He pushed backwards until he was on his ass, let out an almighty shudder that hit every nerve in his body, every movement like ice plunged upon the joints. He looked up at the people standing above him, and the faces became clearer, but not clear enough that he could put names to them.
Enough sense came to him to try and say something. He opened his lips, but instead of words, only a small mouthful of vomit came out, going only as far as his shirt. He looked down at the trail heading down to his belly and suppressed the urge to follow it up with another bomb. It stayed. The pounding headache remained and Oliver pressed his hands to his head, completely unaware of how wide his eyes were stretching themselves and how much he was shaking. The fall had made nothing worse, but it had made nothing better.
"She gave me a FUCKING CONCUSSION."
The words came out intensely slurred but audible. A low sound emanated from Oliver's mouth, a painful attempt at a moan - Oliver didn't know whether the gun was still in his pocket, since his legs were too cold to feel the lump, but he knew that dignity was no longer located on his person.
It was a good guess, assuming they wouldn't kill him. But at the moment everything hurt, and for a brief few seconds he considered how much he wouldn't be hurting if he was dead. There wasn't time to think it over. He wasn't dead, and he wasn't going to be yet. But slipping into sleep just seemed so alluring right now, like it would make everything feel better, it would stop the crusting gash on the back of his head and the stabbing in his temples and the swirling in his stomach and
"Shitty headache."
"Shitty headache."
"Shitty headache."
YOU CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP OR YOU WILL FUCKING DIE.
Oliver jerked upwards from the sand with a loud guttural gasp and something between a shriek and a yell following. He pushed backwards until he was on his ass, let out an almighty shudder that hit every nerve in his body, every movement like ice plunged upon the joints. He looked up at the people standing above him, and the faces became clearer, but not clear enough that he could put names to them.
Enough sense came to him to try and say something. He opened his lips, but instead of words, only a small mouthful of vomit came out, going only as far as his shirt. He looked down at the trail heading down to his belly and suppressed the urge to follow it up with another bomb. It stayed. The pounding headache remained and Oliver pressed his hands to his head, completely unaware of how wide his eyes were stretching themselves and how much he was shaking. The fall had made nothing worse, but it had made nothing better.
"She gave me a FUCKING CONCUSSION."
The words came out intensely slurred but audible. A low sound emanated from Oliver's mouth, a painful attempt at a moan - Oliver didn't know whether the gun was still in his pocket, since his legs were too cold to feel the lump, but he knew that dignity was no longer located on his person.
Rajni couldn't tell if Galahad was playing both sides or just doing his best impression of a pavement. It felt like probably the second option, if only because someone who was intentionally pulling a move like that was also likely to be smart enough not to do such a horrible job of tricking people. Still, maybe it said something for Galahad that he was being... himself rather than being scummy. Dropping the axe sold it. Fine, fine. He wasn't that shifty, just not standing up for himself, or anyone.
"You're a shitty headache!" Rajni snapped back at Tiny.
Ollie then rose from the dead like a fucking zombie and boffed all over himself. Gross.
"Great, cool! Maybe have a drink, chill your ass out?"
She caught herself from rolling her eyes at Galahad and a 'this guy' shrug on account Galahad almost definitely wouldn't get what she was doing.
Fucking hell her life got weird.
"You're a shitty headache!" Rajni snapped back at Tiny.
Ollie then rose from the dead like a fucking zombie and boffed all over himself. Gross.
"Great, cool! Maybe have a drink, chill your ass out?"
She caught herself from rolling her eyes at Galahad and a 'this guy' shrug on account Galahad almost definitely wouldn't get what she was doing.
Fucking hell her life got weird.
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
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This time, it worked.
Galahad could almost have broken out into a huge, relieved smile, if he wasn’t still surrounded by two killers and a very tetchy Rajni with a gun. Tiny had, essentially, just given him permission to bugger off, and from his posture and the exhausted, resignated voice, it sounded like he actually meant it. Rajni didn’t seem as though she planned to do anything dangerous either. This was great! This was… well, it was as great as your time on the Program could be, at least. But the bottom line was, this had been what Galahad had been hoping for ever since Tiny had rolled up at the graveyard.
It was easy to ignore the ‘girlfriend’ comment, too, because anyone with at least half a brain cell could tell that he and Freya weren’t dating.
Of course, nothing was ever just sunshine and roses, out here. Oliver’s sudden, juddering movements, like a zombie rising from the sand, brought Galahad back to reality with a thud, making him jump and scamper a good few feet away from the other boy. His face turned green as Oliver dribbled sick down his front, barely able to understand the slurred speech drawling from his mouth.
At least he wasn’t in any state to hurt anybody anymore. Cold comforts, but it was still something.
He looked between the three others, catching Rajni’s shrugging motion, and the tiny smile that had snuck onto his face slowly faded away. He still wanted to leave the beach more than anything else, cause every second spent here was a second he wasn’t finding Freya, and, well… Oliver had killed somebody. The announcement was fresh on everybody’s mind, he was sure of it.
But the guy really didn’t look like he was in a good way. He’d passed out right in front of them all, for Christ’s sake, and now he was barely able to keep himself together. It just… didn’t sit right with Galahad, just up and leaving him to fend for himself. Tiny was there, too, but Tiny was… well, Galahad had firsthand experience of what Tiny was like.
Make a decision. Just make a decision…
“Rajni?” Galahad murmured. “I think… um… I think we should go…”
Galahad could almost have broken out into a huge, relieved smile, if he wasn’t still surrounded by two killers and a very tetchy Rajni with a gun. Tiny had, essentially, just given him permission to bugger off, and from his posture and the exhausted, resignated voice, it sounded like he actually meant it. Rajni didn’t seem as though she planned to do anything dangerous either. This was great! This was… well, it was as great as your time on the Program could be, at least. But the bottom line was, this had been what Galahad had been hoping for ever since Tiny had rolled up at the graveyard.
It was easy to ignore the ‘girlfriend’ comment, too, because anyone with at least half a brain cell could tell that he and Freya weren’t dating.
Of course, nothing was ever just sunshine and roses, out here. Oliver’s sudden, juddering movements, like a zombie rising from the sand, brought Galahad back to reality with a thud, making him jump and scamper a good few feet away from the other boy. His face turned green as Oliver dribbled sick down his front, barely able to understand the slurred speech drawling from his mouth.
At least he wasn’t in any state to hurt anybody anymore. Cold comforts, but it was still something.
He looked between the three others, catching Rajni’s shrugging motion, and the tiny smile that had snuck onto his face slowly faded away. He still wanted to leave the beach more than anything else, cause every second spent here was a second he wasn’t finding Freya, and, well… Oliver had killed somebody. The announcement was fresh on everybody’s mind, he was sure of it.
But the guy really didn’t look like he was in a good way. He’d passed out right in front of them all, for Christ’s sake, and now he was barely able to keep himself together. It just… didn’t sit right with Galahad, just up and leaving him to fend for himself. Tiny was there, too, but Tiny was… well, Galahad had firsthand experience of what Tiny was like.
Make a decision. Just make a decision…
“Rajni?” Galahad murmured. “I think… um… I think we should go…”
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Primrosette
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"Fuckin' hell...." Was all that Tiny could murmured to Oliver suddenly rising from the dead and puking his guts all over himself. Ew, that shit was nasty. Tiny was not gonna go near that shit. He then found himself shaking his head, sighing in frustration. "You deserved it, you cunt! At least Anvi went down fightin' against a scumbag like you, Oliver! Why the fuck should I feel sorry for you? Man up, you little pussy!"
Tiny said his peace to Oliver and then he looked at Galahad and Rajni. He mulled over what to do next and he decided to give them a little wave goodnight. Then he turned away from them and made his way away from the beach.
He honestly had no idea where he was going. But he wanted to stay the fuck away from Oliver.
((Tiny Sterling continued in Sing Us A Song; You're The Piano Man))
Tiny said his peace to Oliver and then he looked at Galahad and Rajni. He mulled over what to do next and he decided to give them a little wave goodnight. Then he turned away from them and made his way away from the beach.
He honestly had no idea where he was going. But he wanted to stay the fuck away from Oliver.
((Tiny Sterling continued in Sing Us A Song; You're The Piano Man))