((Laura Hakštok continued from ☪))
“Wow. Fuckin’ christ.”
Laura blew air out of the side of her mouth, one eyebrow raised in near-fascination, as she stood in the doorway to the Captain’s Quarters, gazing at the tattered, fucked up remains of the living room. There was glass coating the floor, with a whole array of dreary looking books nestled among them (the joke was that all books were fucking dreary, even ‘10 Kills 1 Life’ had put her to sleep), there were metallic looking scrapes and scratches along the walls, and, aw, come the fuck on, was that a TV she could see through the shattered window? Seriously? The fuck point was there of launching a TV out the room?
“Some serious fucking babyrage going on in here, huh Pat?” Laura muttered, turning to her skeletal companion and making him nod in agreement. She shrugged, then leaned him against the wall, and swung her bag off of her shoulder and onto the floor.
Now, most people would probably take a glance into the sitting room, see all the havoc that had ensued inside, and go ‘Oh no someone has been hecking murdered uwu’ before turning tail and running somewhere else, but that was because most people were fucking dumb. So reason one why Laura didn’t particularly give a shit about the state of the room; no blood. Even a crack to the head with a Louisville slugger left blood splatter and brain bits across the floor. ‘Oh but what about strangulation/poisoning/drowning, Laura?’ you, the hypothetical dumbass, ask. Well, if that had been the method of murder, then why was the room filled with fucking bullet holes, genius? Even if there had been a major scuffle before some poor schmuck got strangled, there was still gonna be bloodstains left behind, so, yeah, never fucking ask me anything again.
Reason two; those bullet holes? In the fucking ceiling. Either the perpetrator had worse aim than your average Battlegrounds player, or they’d gone ahead and blown their load into the ceiling in a fit of pique, like your average Battlegrounds player. The TV, too, was evidence of that; you didn’t stop midway through a melee to heft a fucking flatscreen at somebody. Nah, odds were, somebody had woken up here, gotten mega-pissed at their situation, and decided to gain some catharsis factor by being a selfish cunt and trashing the place. Like, thanks a lot, dickweed, there was a perfectly nice chair Laura could have sat on that was now lying on its side, one leg missing. Dickhead.
Laura straightened up, grabbing hold of both her bag and Pat’s torso. She’d put her weed socks and Doc Martens back on, because y’know, fuck trying to juke around broken glass in bare feet. She walked into the room without a second glance, stopping briefly only to adjust her swimsuit where it was trying to dig into her butt.
Now, another important thing to note here was that, yes, Laura was on the cruise ship. And logic, according to every shit pundit and analyst and so-called superfan who’d only watched a single episode while trying to get into the pants of the cute nerdy girl who’d invited them round to her place, dictated that heading towards the biggest location on the area map was the biggest and most heinous mistake anyone could make. Well logic could, once again, suck a big fat one, because if everybody had the same train of thought, ‘don’t head to the cruise ship’, then guess what? There was gonna be way less people on the cruise ship than there was anywhere else.
Besides, she wasn’t aiming to avoid people, far from it. And if she did wind up in a room with some wannabe Jared Clayton, and she made him completely flip his fucking lid, then all the better.
But hey, lo and fucking behold, the Captain’s Quarters were totally void of bodies, both dead and alive. Nobody in the living room, no-one on the balcony. Nothing of note in the kitchen, other than the fact that the coffee maker was the same brand as the one Laura’s parents owned, which, y’know, would be a great bit of trivia for the particularly creepy and obsessive superfans of the show. The bathroom was clean and modern, but like, if Laura wanted a dip, she was gonna head to the swimming pool instead. Or, hell, the fucking ocean surrounding them, rather than the bath. She did, however, place Pat into the tub, arms resting on the sides, mouth hanging open, like he was having the time of his life. The dude had been sitting next to a cobweb-coated cannon for God knows how long. He probably needed a good soak.
That just left the bedroom. Laura wandered over to the last remaining closed door, and with a grin slinking onto her face, slowly turned the handle, and quickly booted it open. Part of her hoped she’d stumble upon something private, a quiet moment of reassurance between two allies, a couple of friends letting their long-hidden love slowly blossom, or maybe just someone getting ploughed doggystyle into the mattress.
“Oh fucking sick, nice.”
The sight of the king-sized bed was way better than any of that shit, though, and Laura trotted over to it, flinging herself face first onto it, letting herself sink into the crisp clean sheets and pillows. Fuuuuck, this was the goddamn life. Her bed back home was like a fucking slab of sheet metal compared to this, a constant film of crumbs clinging to it, and a small hole singed into the foot of her blanket.
She realised that this probably wasn’t the most exhilarating thing for the audience back home to be watching, but who gave a fuck, she wasn’t doing fuck-all for their benefit, it was all for her, bitches. So she raised her hand, aimed it at where she thought the camera probably was, and raised her middle finger right at it.
Prism
O P E N
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3431
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
A voice echoes from Laura's collar in a relaxed, conversational tone.
"Hey, Laura, I have a little personal question for you:
"Have you ever tried cocaine?"
"Hey, Laura, I have a little personal question for you:
"Have you ever tried cocaine?"
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
There was a voice coming from her throat, one that did not belong to her. Obviously. Although, actually, there was that one time Laura had gotten so goddamn stoned that she’d spent an hour asking Alaska who it was that kept interrupting her before she’d realised that, ta-da, it was Her-Goddamn-Self.
But no, this time, it was definitely somebody else, and someone Laura recognised in a heartbeat, a someone whose voice was more familiar and friendly towards her than her own goddamn parents’, and someone who a few short hours ago had been decked out in a hot as fuck pirate outfit while telling her to have fun and not to die horribly. Jewel came armed with a single question, one which caused Laura to once again raise an eyebrow, face buried in between two pillows. She rolled onto her side and cocked her head down, speaking towards the little plastic bit in the middle of her collar.
“Uh, yeah, once or twice.”
She imagined how her parents would react upon hearing that. Her mom would probably faint, dad would probably have a heart attack. Fuck, that would be fucking funny, chalk ‘Not Seeing That Shit’ as one of her few regrets in life.
“I am from Miami, dude.”
There wasn’t any judgement or any of that shit in Jewel’s voice. It was honest curiosity, more than anything, and hell, if that didn’t make Laura curious herself.
“Why’re you asking?”
But no, this time, it was definitely somebody else, and someone Laura recognised in a heartbeat, a someone whose voice was more familiar and friendly towards her than her own goddamn parents’, and someone who a few short hours ago had been decked out in a hot as fuck pirate outfit while telling her to have fun and not to die horribly. Jewel came armed with a single question, one which caused Laura to once again raise an eyebrow, face buried in between two pillows. She rolled onto her side and cocked her head down, speaking towards the little plastic bit in the middle of her collar.
“Uh, yeah, once or twice.”
She imagined how her parents would react upon hearing that. Her mom would probably faint, dad would probably have a heart attack. Fuck, that would be fucking funny, chalk ‘Not Seeing That Shit’ as one of her few regrets in life.
“I am from Miami, dude.”
There wasn’t any judgement or any of that shit in Jewel’s voice. It was honest curiosity, more than anything, and hell, if that didn’t make Laura curious herself.
“Why’re you asking?”
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3431
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
The reply maintains its casual tone, but with a hint of mirth creeping in.
"Oh, I just figured it might be a bucket list thing. Or up your alley.
"See, one of your teammates pulled a ziplock of coke as his 'weapon,' and I don't think he's the party type. I can't tell you precisely who or where he is, but I can let you know to ask if you see someone with the same bandanna, you know, to maybe hook you up?"
"Oh, I just figured it might be a bucket list thing. Or up your alley.
"See, one of your teammates pulled a ziplock of coke as his 'weapon,' and I don't think he's the party type. I can't tell you precisely who or where he is, but I can let you know to ask if you see someone with the same bandanna, you know, to maybe hook you up?"
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
“You’re shitting me.”
Laura sat bolt upright, not even bothering to adjust her headband as it slipped dangerously close to covering her eyes.
“Like, for fucking real?”
Her brain whirred as she looked down at her collar, as if Jewel was sitting inside a little tiny room in that rectangle of black plastic, gazing back up at her. ‘Kay, so, not knowing who had the coke or even which boat that dude was currently on was a pain in the dick, but it was whatever, that had been a mentor rule for the past two seasons, Laura got it. But the fact that there was a baggie of coke in play was just… hell yeah. Fuck yeah. Getting drunk in a pool would be a bitching time all round, but getting high off her tits in a pool? That would be fucking legendary.
“Well fuck me, Jewel, that might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”
Laura finally pushed her headband up, settling it nice and neat on the top of her head, pushing her braid back over her shoulder as she did so.
“Can you tell whichever asshole producer that gave some other dipshit the coke and not me, that they’re a major cunt?”
Laura sat bolt upright, not even bothering to adjust her headband as it slipped dangerously close to covering her eyes.
“Like, for fucking real?”
Her brain whirred as she looked down at her collar, as if Jewel was sitting inside a little tiny room in that rectangle of black plastic, gazing back up at her. ‘Kay, so, not knowing who had the coke or even which boat that dude was currently on was a pain in the dick, but it was whatever, that had been a mentor rule for the past two seasons, Laura got it. But the fact that there was a baggie of coke in play was just… hell yeah. Fuck yeah. Getting drunk in a pool would be a bitching time all round, but getting high off her tits in a pool? That would be fucking legendary.
“Well fuck me, Jewel, that might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”
Laura finally pushed her headband up, settling it nice and neat on the top of her head, pushing her braid back over her shoulder as she did so.
“Can you tell whichever asshole producer that gave some other dipshit the coke and not me, that they’re a major cunt?”
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3431
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
There's a soft chuckle.
"Like I said in the briefing, I'm here to help you get what you want... no matter what it is. Oh, and speaking of, if you think of anything else, do let me know."
The collar falls silent...
"Like I said in the briefing, I'm here to help you get what you want... no matter what it is. Oh, and speaking of, if you think of anything else, do let me know."
The collar falls silent...
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3431
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
...for all of ten seconds, before it clicks back on.
"Oh right, just for personal curiosity, how is it? Coke, I mean. Uh, that's all the time I've got. Good luck."
"Oh right, just for personal curiosity, how is it? Coke, I mean. Uh, that's all the time I've got. Good luck."
((Continued from The Plastic Beach))
A voice echoes from outside the suite in a quiet, calm-sounding tone.
"It says, um, this is where the captain lived.
"Think we should take a look?"
A voice echoes from outside the suite in a quiet, calm-sounding tone.
"It says, um, this is where the captain lived.
"Think we should take a look?"
"Yeah."
They should take a look. They needed to take a lot of looks. But, Pippi, she didn't want to look anymore. She was tired. Her body was buzzing with heat and fatigue.
"Yup. A look."
The baton felt light in her hands.
So did the rope.
So did the bag.
Maybe it was the dehydration. She needed to hydrate. She really needed to drink water, but she needed to keep going.
The needles in her joints would never go away if she never rested, but she needed to work harder than she ever did to achieve that rest. She nodded to herself. Once. Then twice. She pushed on the door, half-expecting someone to came out running.
The girls were lucky.
They met no-one.
They could have died if they did.
And yet, they met no-one other than each other.
If they didn't have collars,
Pippi might have thought this was a dream,
or a fantasy,
or a nightmare,
something akin from waking up in a new world without any trace of the past one.
She swallowed again. There wasn't any time to explore these dimensions. She pushed again.
They should take a look. They needed to take a lot of looks. But, Pippi, she didn't want to look anymore. She was tired. Her body was buzzing with heat and fatigue.
"Yup. A look."
The baton felt light in her hands.
So did the rope.
So did the bag.
Maybe it was the dehydration. She needed to hydrate. She really needed to drink water, but she needed to keep going.
The needles in her joints would never go away if she never rested, but she needed to work harder than she ever did to achieve that rest. She nodded to herself. Once. Then twice. She pushed on the door, half-expecting someone to came out running.
The girls were lucky.
They met no-one.
They could have died if they did.
And yet, they met no-one other than each other.
If they didn't have collars,
Pippi might have thought this was a dream,
or a fantasy,
or a nightmare,
something akin from waking up in a new world without any trace of the past one.
She swallowed again. There wasn't any time to explore these dimensions. She pushed again.
"Hello?"
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1255
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:15 pm
- Location: there is a man standing behind you
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
- Contact:
A voice comes out of Luanne's collar, loud enough for her and Pippi, not quite loud enough for Laura:
"Heya! Don't really think there's much for me to say here since you're doing a good job, but Noreen wanted me to say hi, so... um, yeah. Noreen says hi!"
...
...
...
"Also I guess I should give you some actual advice so, um, two things. Number one: keep doing what you're doing, for now. You'll have to change up your approach tomorrow morning or tomorrow night once the season has stopped warming up, but right now you're together and you're not trying to kill yourselves, so, um, yeah! Doing great on that front!
"Thing two: you're safe to enter. There's no, like, um, big leviathan or shrimp in there waiting to kill you. Just one of your classmates. Not one of the ones you should be worried about."
"Heya! Don't really think there's much for me to say here since you're doing a good job, but Noreen wanted me to say hi, so... um, yeah. Noreen says hi!"
...
...
...
"Also I guess I should give you some actual advice so, um, two things. Number one: keep doing what you're doing, for now. You'll have to change up your approach tomorrow morning or tomorrow night once the season has stopped warming up, but right now you're together and you're not trying to kill yourselves, so, um, yeah! Doing great on that front!
"Thing two: you're safe to enter. There's no, like, um, big leviathan or shrimp in there waiting to kill you. Just one of your classmates. Not one of the ones you should be worried about."
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
There was a huge, huge smile on Laura’s face as she swiveled her body around on the bed, swinging her legs over the side and letting them dangle. And, like, a big fuckin’ cheesy-ass grin wasn’t something to draw attention to for most people, but that shit was not normal for Laura. It was either the coldest, wryest smile imaginable, or a smirk that said ‘That thing you just said was fucking stupid and I am about to make sure you know it’.
“Oh, dude, it’s so fucking good, it’s like… like everything stops existing and nothing matters anymore but you don’t even care. Also it gets me horny as fuck, so, like, it does fucking wonders for my sex life.”
But fucking listen, how could she not be grinning like a goddamn imbecile right now? She was talking with Jewel Fuckin’ Evans, she was having an actual, real conversation with a genuine A-Lister celebrity, one she actually gave a shit about to boot, and not only that, she was being encouraged by said celebrity to chase after a ziploc of coke and to talk about what it was like. Like? Holy fuck. Mom and Dad could shut the fuck up forever, now, this topped literally anything Kris had ever done and anything he’d ever do.
Course, things couldn’t be all peaches and gravy forever, and she couldn’t spend all day just lounging on the bed chatting shit with Jewel. She wanted to do that, mind, it sounded rad as fuck, but other people were garbage and, just like they had for all her life up to this point, saw the need to interrupt her for whatever-the-fuck reason and just generally be huge pains in her ass.
There were two people outside. Or maybe just one. She’d heard two voices and she thought they were both feminine-ish voices, but it might just have been one person talking to themselves. And, fuck, it might not even be a couple ladies at all. Dudes had high voices, girls had deep voices, who gave a fuck. Point was, she’d narrowed down the identity of the person/s outside to Literally Anybody In Her Class, so, great fucking work there, Poirot.
But, again. Who gave a fuck.
“Just me, your favourite bitch, Laura “Thiccstock” Hakštok!” Laura called out. She shifted again, moving herself fully onto the bed once more, reclining on the sheets like one of your French girls.
“If you’re planning on, like, shooting me or stabbing me or whatever, can you at least make it really fucking funny?”
“Oh, dude, it’s so fucking good, it’s like… like everything stops existing and nothing matters anymore but you don’t even care. Also it gets me horny as fuck, so, like, it does fucking wonders for my sex life.”
But fucking listen, how could she not be grinning like a goddamn imbecile right now? She was talking with Jewel Fuckin’ Evans, she was having an actual, real conversation with a genuine A-Lister celebrity, one she actually gave a shit about to boot, and not only that, she was being encouraged by said celebrity to chase after a ziploc of coke and to talk about what it was like. Like? Holy fuck. Mom and Dad could shut the fuck up forever, now, this topped literally anything Kris had ever done and anything he’d ever do.
Course, things couldn’t be all peaches and gravy forever, and she couldn’t spend all day just lounging on the bed chatting shit with Jewel. She wanted to do that, mind, it sounded rad as fuck, but other people were garbage and, just like they had for all her life up to this point, saw the need to interrupt her for whatever-the-fuck reason and just generally be huge pains in her ass.
There were two people outside. Or maybe just one. She’d heard two voices and she thought they were both feminine-ish voices, but it might just have been one person talking to themselves. And, fuck, it might not even be a couple ladies at all. Dudes had high voices, girls had deep voices, who gave a fuck. Point was, she’d narrowed down the identity of the person/s outside to Literally Anybody In Her Class, so, great fucking work there, Poirot.
But, again. Who gave a fuck.
“Just me, your favourite bitch, Laura “Thiccstock” Hakštok!” Laura called out. She shifted again, moving herself fully onto the bed once more, reclining on the sheets like one of your French girls.
“If you’re planning on, like, shooting me or stabbing me or whatever, can you at least make it really fucking funny?”
"Um, okay. Thanks Stephanie. Hi Noreen."
...
"Noreen's my sister."
...
Luanne didn't know Laura, but she knew of Laura. Mostly thanks to Noreen. Noreen talked about her a lot, in the same way she talked a lot about Jewel. If Luanne were to do an impression of Noreen doing a Laura impression, it would go a little like "Oooh, I'm Laura. I'm a stanky ho. I am annoying and will make the upholstery smell like weed, and your mom will notice it."
Quietly.
"...um, do we still want to take a look?"
...
"Noreen's my sister."
...
Luanne didn't know Laura, but she knew of Laura. Mostly thanks to Noreen. Noreen talked about her a lot, in the same way she talked a lot about Jewel. If Luanne were to do an impression of Noreen doing a Laura impression, it would go a little like "Oooh, I'm Laura. I'm a stanky ho. I am annoying and will make the upholstery smell like weed, and your mom will notice it."
Quietly.
"...um, do we still want to take a look?"
Ah.
Just that.
Just. That.
The girl behind the door was Laura. Laura was funny. Not in the comedian type of funny.
The sad type of funny.
The type of funny that you were glad that you weren't like her.
Not a good funny.
Pippi hated to admit she had snickered at her more than once.
But she kinda deserved it.
So she didn't feel that bad.
Pippi stepped forward.
"Laura."
She said.
"Hi."
She bent her body over, looking at the pose. Very Titanic. That movie sucked. Why did people loved it? The ending sucked more. Stop being sucky, movies.
"I- we don't plan on shooting you." She looked back. "We're searching for things."
She didn't tell her why. Laura was a bitch. She'd pick and pick until the wound festered.
"Do you mind if we look around here?"
Uh.
Mhm.
Pippi had already seen all the worse shit. If only the world could do its best. She nodded to Luanne. She wanted to see. Because she needed to explore, and she needed to find everything she could use. It was like an Easter egg hunt, but deadly. Yeah. That was an apt comparison. Just an Easter egg hunt.Just that.
Just. That.
The girl behind the door was Laura. Laura was funny. Not in the comedian type of funny.
The sad type of funny.
The type of funny that you were glad that you weren't like her.
Not a good funny.
Pippi hated to admit she had snickered at her more than once.
But she kinda deserved it.
So she didn't feel that bad.
Pippi stepped forward.
"Laura."
She said.
"Hi."
She bent her body over, looking at the pose. Very Titanic. That movie sucked. Why did people loved it? The ending sucked more. Stop being sucky, movies.
"I- we don't plan on shooting you." She looked back. "We're searching for things."
She didn't tell her why. Laura was a bitch. She'd pick and pick until the wound festered.
"Do you mind if we look around here?"
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Pippi
- Posts: 1118
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:32 pm
- Location: I'm Pip!
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
Oh fuck, it was a couple of weirdo nerds.
Was there anything more to say about Luanne Grasset and Pineapple - no, Laura was not gonna call her Pippi, being named after a fucking fruit (derogatory) was way too goddamn funny an opportunity to pass up - Bloodworth? Well, yeah, a little bit, but there was only so much time and energy she was willing to dedicate to this pantheon of winners.
Luanne was one of those typical artsy-fartsy frigid bitches with a way more popular and interesting and easy to make fun of older sister, cause like, you ever tried to piss off a statue? Didn’t matter how tiny its dick was or if it had a face that looked like it’d just stepped in shit, a statue just doesn’t respond to anything, and that was kinda what it was like talking to Luanne. And Pineapple… Jesus Christ. She was called Pineapple. She dressed like every sad and lonely dude’s manic pixie dream girl fantasy. Her parents owned a strip club. She was called Pineapple. And underneath all of that… she was just a straight-A nerd who aced all her classes? Like, what? Where the fuck did you even begin to unravel that hot mess?
Anyway, they were here to look for ‘things’, which hey, vague as fuck but Laura also didn’t particularly give a shit. Unless they were looking for a gun to shoot her with, in which case she’d be kinda pissed off. But for the time being, she flashed them a peace sign from her lofty position as Queen of the Double Bed.
“Yeah, sure, go fuckin nuts, my dudes,” Laura said, waving her hand airily. “Liking the outfit, bee tee dubs, Ananas, giving me real slutty cowgirl vibes.”
She considered, briefly, whether she should let these two dorks know about the skeleton chilling in the bathtub, but she figured that them stumbling upon it unawares would be way more entertaining. Schadenfreude, as always, won out in the end.
“Got a couple questions for you two first, though,” she continued, fishing around in her bag for one of the boxes of crackers. Her eyes scanned the other two girls, quickly, top to bottom, once and no more than that. Bright pink bandanas round both of their necks. Fuckin’ peachy.
“Either of you two fuckers run into anyone on the Leviathans? Black bandana, hotline to Ms. Evans herself, probably as sexy and badass as yours truly?”
Was there anything more to say about Luanne Grasset and Pineapple - no, Laura was not gonna call her Pippi, being named after a fucking fruit (derogatory) was way too goddamn funny an opportunity to pass up - Bloodworth? Well, yeah, a little bit, but there was only so much time and energy she was willing to dedicate to this pantheon of winners.
Luanne was one of those typical artsy-fartsy frigid bitches with a way more popular and interesting and easy to make fun of older sister, cause like, you ever tried to piss off a statue? Didn’t matter how tiny its dick was or if it had a face that looked like it’d just stepped in shit, a statue just doesn’t respond to anything, and that was kinda what it was like talking to Luanne. And Pineapple… Jesus Christ. She was called Pineapple. She dressed like every sad and lonely dude’s manic pixie dream girl fantasy. Her parents owned a strip club. She was called Pineapple. And underneath all of that… she was just a straight-A nerd who aced all her classes? Like, what? Where the fuck did you even begin to unravel that hot mess?
Anyway, they were here to look for ‘things’, which hey, vague as fuck but Laura also didn’t particularly give a shit. Unless they were looking for a gun to shoot her with, in which case she’d be kinda pissed off. But for the time being, she flashed them a peace sign from her lofty position as Queen of the Double Bed.
“Yeah, sure, go fuckin nuts, my dudes,” Laura said, waving her hand airily. “Liking the outfit, bee tee dubs, Ananas, giving me real slutty cowgirl vibes.”
She considered, briefly, whether she should let these two dorks know about the skeleton chilling in the bathtub, but she figured that them stumbling upon it unawares would be way more entertaining. Schadenfreude, as always, won out in the end.
“Got a couple questions for you two first, though,” she continued, fishing around in her bag for one of the boxes of crackers. Her eyes scanned the other two girls, quickly, top to bottom, once and no more than that. Bright pink bandanas round both of their necks. Fuckin’ peachy.
“Either of you two fuckers run into anyone on the Leviathans? Black bandana, hotline to Ms. Evans herself, probably as sexy and badass as yours truly?”
Okay.
Luanne frowned slightly, and followed Pippi inside, doing her best to avoid stepping on any glass. She shut the suite's main entrance behind her, and took a quick glance around.
Well. Nothing she hadn't seen before.
It was just more aftermath. Just more people who'd learned to use violence and cruelty as first resorts. It was hard for her to blame them. That usually was how everything went in America. They were doing it because they'd been taught this was just what people did.
It was hard to think. She was just tired. Stephanie had said not to worry about Laura, so she wasn't that worried about Laura, directly. She was worried about things that would happen because of things Laura would do, but she didn't think Laura was gonna kill her or Pippi outright.
She glanced through the bedroom doorway, over Pippi's shoulder, catching the tail-end of Laura's peace sign.
...
Speaking of tail-ends, as Luanne guessed Noreen would have said, it was at this point that Luanne noticed what Laura was wearing.
Okay then.
She kind of reminded Luanne of Nu couché, by Amedeo Modigliani. She wasn't going to visualize the painting, because it was the kind of thing they couldn't show on network TV, but if the people watching the livestream on the internet wanted to look it up, they could if they wanted, as long as they weren't at work or whatever. Modigliani painted a lot of naked French women, and this painting was one of them. It was notable for being the tenth most expensive painting ever sold; in 2015, ninety-eight years after it was painted, a private buyer, Liu Yiqian, purchased the 2 x 3 foot canvas for $183.8 million. Incidentally, the seller was a woman named Laura.
But anyways, it was nice to put a face to Laura's reputation. It wasn't a very surprising face, but still.
It was sad. Every girl Luanne had met so far had gotten lingerie instead of actual clothes. Laura seemed to be enjoying it, at least, judging from her comments about having the thighs of a stallion, but that didn't make it not fucked up that they'd given it to her in the first place. And yet here she was, calling Pippi a slutty cowgirl, like they weren't stuck in the same boat.
(Luanne didn't like thinking about sex or sex-related topics, because those thoughts made her realize just how alone she felt.)
She glanced backwards anxiously, looking through the hole in the ceiling.
Laura said she had a couple questions (though she only asked one).
Have you seen anyone with a black bandana that means they have Jewel Evans as their mentor? (paraphrased)
Luanne turned her head back around, looking into the camera in the collar around Laura's neck with her eyes hidden behind her big sunglasses. Then, she crossed her arms and shifted her weight to the side because her feet hurt from all the walking. She looked up at Laura's face.
"No," she said simply, "sorry."
...
"Sucks that you got Jewel, though."
She smiled lightly; not because she felt like smiling, but to hopefully defuse tensions in the room. She wasn't even sure if there were tensions, but just in case, yknow.
Luanne frowned slightly, and followed Pippi inside, doing her best to avoid stepping on any glass. She shut the suite's main entrance behind her, and took a quick glance around.
Well. Nothing she hadn't seen before.
It was just more aftermath. Just more people who'd learned to use violence and cruelty as first resorts. It was hard for her to blame them. That usually was how everything went in America. They were doing it because they'd been taught this was just what people did.
It was hard to think. She was just tired. Stephanie had said not to worry about Laura, so she wasn't that worried about Laura, directly. She was worried about things that would happen because of things Laura would do, but she didn't think Laura was gonna kill her or Pippi outright.
She glanced through the bedroom doorway, over Pippi's shoulder, catching the tail-end of Laura's peace sign.
...
Speaking of tail-ends, as Luanne guessed Noreen would have said, it was at this point that Luanne noticed what Laura was wearing.
Okay then.
She kind of reminded Luanne of Nu couché, by Amedeo Modigliani. She wasn't going to visualize the painting, because it was the kind of thing they couldn't show on network TV, but if the people watching the livestream on the internet wanted to look it up, they could if they wanted, as long as they weren't at work or whatever. Modigliani painted a lot of naked French women, and this painting was one of them. It was notable for being the tenth most expensive painting ever sold; in 2015, ninety-eight years after it was painted, a private buyer, Liu Yiqian, purchased the 2 x 3 foot canvas for $183.8 million. Incidentally, the seller was a woman named Laura.
But anyways, it was nice to put a face to Laura's reputation. It wasn't a very surprising face, but still.
It was sad. Every girl Luanne had met so far had gotten lingerie instead of actual clothes. Laura seemed to be enjoying it, at least, judging from her comments about having the thighs of a stallion, but that didn't make it not fucked up that they'd given it to her in the first place. And yet here she was, calling Pippi a slutty cowgirl, like they weren't stuck in the same boat.
(Luanne didn't like thinking about sex or sex-related topics, because those thoughts made her realize just how alone she felt.)
She glanced backwards anxiously, looking through the hole in the ceiling.
Laura said she had a couple questions (though she only asked one).
Have you seen anyone with a black bandana that means they have Jewel Evans as their mentor? (paraphrased)
Luanne turned her head back around, looking into the camera in the collar around Laura's neck with her eyes hidden behind her big sunglasses. Then, she crossed her arms and shifted her weight to the side because her feet hurt from all the walking. She looked up at Laura's face.
"No," she said simply, "sorry."
...
"Sucks that you got Jewel, though."
She smiled lightly; not because she felt like smiling, but to hopefully defuse tensions in the room. She wasn't even sure if there were tensions, but just in case, yknow.