((Luanne Grasset continued from Drawing Hands))
She stepped out into the sunlight from the depths of the cruise ship, and walked a few steps to the very edge of the ship. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder. Then, she leant over, with her elbows perched on the railing, and looked out across the arena. From here, the clipper looked closer than it really was. Kind of like the opposite of how everything looked from the clipper.
Luanne still wasn't quite clear on what she and Pippi were actually looking for. There was the rope, yeah, but she assumed there was also some other stuff, and Pippi hadn't really let her in on any of it, so... yeah. Pippi had lead the way here, because whatever it was that Pippi wanted, the cruise ship had a lot of stuff, and so chances were if it was anywhere it would be here. The trip over hadn't been all that long, and they'd managed to avoid encountering anyone on the way here, but Luanne's feet were already starting to hurt, and she was getting kind of worried that Pippi was gonna get all sunburnt. Luanne was lucky; she tanned, not burned. But Pippi looked like someone who burned, and sure, she was wearing a big hat, but that was kind of offset by the rest of her outfit's lack of coverage. A sunburn shaped like a pair of assless chaps sounded like pure torture.
This show was torture. People got tortured to death sometimes. Teenagers. Children. Daughters and sisters. It happened. The people watching would have been horrified if it happened on their side of the screen, but it happened on this side and so instead they just watched and felt empty inside.
Luanne didn't want to be tortured to death. She didn't want to be shot, or stabbed, or suffocated, or especially crushed or bludgeoned. She didn't want to die. She didn't want Pippi to die, even though they'd pretty much just met. She didn't want anybody to die here at all, but it was already too late for that.
And it wasn't like the producers would let her save everyone. The worse for ratings an escape looked, the harder they'd make it. But if it looked good for ratings, well -
It was sad to know there was no honest way out, but she wasn't going to eat her own heart out just to end up getting everyone killed.
Still leaning on the railing, she turned her head sideways and glanced at a camera mounted at eye-level, next to the door she'd just exited through. She pushed her sunglasses down so that she could peer over them.
"Five Deaths Eleven Times in Orange, by Andy Warhol. Ten Kills, One Life (in Black), by Jewel Evans. You two aren't that different," she said.
...
Gosh, that felt way too dramatic for her. But it would look real to the audience, and that was what mattered right now.
...
She waited another few seconds. Still nothing happened. Nobody shot her or anything.
Okay, well that was her job as bait done! She'd volunteered, since Pippi had the only weapon between them.
She glanced into the doorway, where she assumed Pippi was still hiding.
"Um, I think we're clear!" She said. "I bet there'll be a lifesaver somewhere up here. For the rope, if we need more."
Just what is it that makes today's homes so different, so appealing?
Open once Lore's here probably
The scissoring (hehe) was quite easy to achieve and Pippi had managed to score for herself a nice, if a bit rough, rope.
The rope had become a fancy belt around Pippi's waist.
Or something.
It was clearly something.
Pippi's eyes also spied multiple, important things. First, the cruise ship was huge. Like really huge. Like way too fucking huge like AAAAAAAH huge.
It felt like one of those pictures you'd see on the fear of manmade item underwater. And it was huge. Pippi liked that though even if it was a bit scary. It meant there was a lot of room to hide, and to find more items, but it also meant that the others in this 'island' of boats would also do that. She had to find the things she needed before it depleted.
Because, really, she didn't want to depend on someone else's kindness.
She was fine alone, well, with Luanne but she didn't count, and she'd make it.
She had to.
"Yup, yup." Pippi replied, fixing her makeup. The camera wasn't a good mirror, but it was better than nothing. "I'm coming."
She came. Her feet gliding across the floor. The rope was now a baton holder. What an adaptive tool!
"Hum, you okay Lulu?" She asked. "You looked like you got locked out of your brain."
The rope had become a fancy belt around Pippi's waist.
Or something.
It was clearly something.
Pippi's eyes also spied multiple, important things. First, the cruise ship was huge. Like really huge. Like way too fucking huge like AAAAAAAH huge.
It felt like one of those pictures you'd see on the fear of manmade item underwater. And it was huge. Pippi liked that though even if it was a bit scary. It meant there was a lot of room to hide, and to find more items, but it also meant that the others in this 'island' of boats would also do that. She had to find the things she needed before it depleted.
Because, really, she didn't want to depend on someone else's kindness.
She was fine alone, well, with Luanne but she didn't count, and she'd make it.
She had to.
"Yup, yup." Pippi replied, fixing her makeup. The camera wasn't a good mirror, but it was better than nothing. "I'm coming."
She came. Her feet gliding across the floor. The rope was now a baton holder. What an adaptive tool!
"Hum, you okay Lulu?" She asked. "You looked like you got locked out of your brain."
...
"..."
Are you okay?
"...Mm."
...
Are you okay?
"I don't know."
Her lip shook.
"I'm fine."
Very, very distant gunfire.
Lean into the Warhol bit. Let them know what you're supposed to be.
"It's just... you'd be surprised how many people want to hang a poster of an electric chair on their living-room wall. 'Specially if the background color matches the drapes."
Good.
"..."
Are you okay?
"...Mm."
...
Are you okay?
"I don't know."
Her lip shook.
"I'm fine."
Very, very distant gunfire.
Lean into the Warhol bit. Let them know what you're supposed to be.
"It's just... you'd be surprised how many people want to hang a poster of an electric chair on their living-room wall. 'Specially if the background color matches the drapes."
Good.
Luanne wasn’t fine.
Pippi wasn’t fine.
Nobody was fine.
Yeah.
Yeah.
“Uh, that sounds… fun.”
Probably something about modern art. Probably something about a museum. Pippi shrugged. She wasn’t a museum type of gal.
The second thing she noticed was
Pippi wasn’t fine.
Nobody was fine.
Yeah.
Yeah.
“Uh, that sounds… fun.”
Probably something about modern art. Probably something about a museum. Pippi shrugged. She wasn’t a museum type of gal.
The second thing she noticed was
“Uh.”
She moved toward the row of lifeboats. They weren’t the best looking, but they looked like lifeboats. Pippi bit her lip.
She was going to need that.
“Do you know how to swim Luanne?”
She moved toward the row of lifeboats. They weren’t the best looking, but they looked like lifeboats. Pippi bit her lip.
She was going to need that.
“Do you know how to swim Luanne?”
Emotionally, Luanne felt a little bit like she'd been kicked in the face. Pippi's response had just kind of... taken the wind right out of her sails with its condescendingly confused patronization. What'd she'd said hadn't been that complicated. Pippi had asked her indirectly what was bothering her, and she'd answered indirectly that what was bothering her was that everything in America was either adjacent to or directly about death and money, and that she was so fucking scared because even if they made it out alive, nobody would look at them like they were people, just things to be seen and criticized and exploited.
But it seemed like all that had gone through one of Pippi's ears and out the other. And Luanne wasn't mad at Pippi for not getting it, but she could have at least pretended, because now the only lasting impact it would have on the audience was Pippi acting like Luanne was speaking Latin or something. And not to mention, it probably hurt their screen chemistry or, um, whatever it was called, and that was important because if nobody wanted to watch them, they were completely screwed.
So she just sort of stood quietly, momentarily glancing over her shoulder as Pippi went around behind her, moving in the general direction of the lifeboats. Then, just as quickly, she looked away because she'd accidentally ended up staring directly at Pippi's butt, and now she was thinking about Pippi's butt and she didn't want to think about that right now, and anyways, luckily, before Luanne could go into a mental tangent about Salvador Dali's frankly uncomfortable fixation on women's butts, Pippi asked a question.
Did Luanne know how to swim?
"Maybe?" She turned around to face Pippi and the lifeboats, frowning slightly. "It's been a few years since I last really went, so I, um, I don't know if I'll be any good at it."
...
"...Why? Because I'm pretty sure we're too high up to like, um, be able to jump into the water from here, without dying."
But it seemed like all that had gone through one of Pippi's ears and out the other. And Luanne wasn't mad at Pippi for not getting it, but she could have at least pretended, because now the only lasting impact it would have on the audience was Pippi acting like Luanne was speaking Latin or something. And not to mention, it probably hurt their screen chemistry or, um, whatever it was called, and that was important because if nobody wanted to watch them, they were completely screwed.
So she just sort of stood quietly, momentarily glancing over her shoulder as Pippi went around behind her, moving in the general direction of the lifeboats. Then, just as quickly, she looked away because she'd accidentally ended up staring directly at Pippi's butt, and now she was thinking about Pippi's butt and she didn't want to think about that right now, and anyways, luckily, before Luanne could go into a mental tangent about Salvador Dali's frankly uncomfortable fixation on women's butts, Pippi asked a question.
Did Luanne know how to swim?
"Maybe?" She turned around to face Pippi and the lifeboats, frowning slightly. "It's been a few years since I last really went, so I, um, I don't know if I'll be any good at it."
...
"...Why? Because I'm pretty sure we're too high up to like, um, be able to jump into the water from here, without dying."
"Can you like- can you like stop being like that?"
Her voice was squeezed out of her throat like a half full water balloon.
It hurt.
"I'm not going to kill myself, god damn it."
The cogs in her head started to turn. They were moving slowly, but steadily. The lifeboats were one way to get off. It would imply that they survived the fall, but something told her that wouldn't be the hard part. There had to be a pulley system, or something, to take the boats down from this floor to the water.
Something.
"I'm not going to-"
She paused and then turned around toward Luanne.
"Oh! You meant an electric-electric chair!" She giggled, putting her free hand over her stomach. "I thought you meant like a chair that was electric yellow!"
She moved toward Luanne
"Modern art is fun and all, but I'm working here." She reached out for Luanne's hands to squeeze her. "When we get out, you can bother me with that all you want, okay? You even get the first dibs on the museum, but right now? I'm doing math."
She turned her head toward the camera then back to Luanne.
"But tell me: who's your favorite artist? Living or dead. I wanna' know. Are they hot?"
Her voice was squeezed out of her throat like a half full water balloon.
It hurt.
"I'm not going to kill myself, god damn it."
The cogs in her head started to turn. They were moving slowly, but steadily. The lifeboats were one way to get off. It would imply that they survived the fall, but something told her that wouldn't be the hard part. There had to be a pulley system, or something, to take the boats down from this floor to the water.
Something.
"I'm not going to-"
She paused and then turned around toward Luanne.
"Oh! You meant an electric-electric chair!" She giggled, putting her free hand over her stomach. "I thought you meant like a chair that was electric yellow!"
She moved toward Luanne
"Modern art is fun and all, but I'm working here." She reached out for Luanne's hands to squeeze her. "When we get out, you can bother me with that all you want, okay? You even get the first dibs on the museum, but right now? I'm doing math."
She turned her head toward the camera then back to Luanne.
"But tell me: who's your favorite artist? Living or dead. I wanna' know. Are they hot?"
Can you stop being like that?
Please don't hate me. Please don't leave me alone. Please don't kill me. I can't stop being like that. I can't not be me. I don't know how to be anyone else.
When you woke up, you had the chance to be anyone in the world. Why'd you just choose to be you?
Luanne just stood completely frozen, her eyes shut tight behind her sunglasses. Pippi's tone changed suddenly. Luanne still kept her eyes shut after that because maybe it would keep her from crying again and she didn't want Pippi to feel bad and she didn't want everyone to hate her just because she cared about things and
Just breathe.
Get your shit together.
Someone grabbed her hands and squeezed.
Breathe.
Pippi.
Center yourself. Find something to focus on.
Pippi's heartbeat.
Sure. Okay.
Okay.
All better now.
Who's your favorite artist? Tell the truth.
"I don't think I really have one."
What's your favorite kind of artist?
"But my favorites are the ones who find the way to be themselves in their art."
Are they hot?
"I'm, um, I'm not sure if they're, like, hot, but um, like, I think they're usually beautiful?"
There you go, just like that.
She opened her eyes.
"What's your favorite, um, math... thing?"
She nearly smiled.
Please don't hate me. Please don't leave me alone. Please don't kill me. I can't stop being like that. I can't not be me. I don't know how to be anyone else.
When you woke up, you had the chance to be anyone in the world. Why'd you just choose to be you?
Luanne just stood completely frozen, her eyes shut tight behind her sunglasses. Pippi's tone changed suddenly. Luanne still kept her eyes shut after that because maybe it would keep her from crying again and she didn't want Pippi to feel bad and she didn't want everyone to hate her just because she cared about things and
Just breathe.
Get your shit together.
Someone grabbed her hands and squeezed.
Breathe.
Pippi.
Center yourself. Find something to focus on.
Pippi's heartbeat.
Sure. Okay.
Okay.
All better now.
Who's your favorite artist? Tell the truth.
"I don't think I really have one."
What's your favorite kind of artist?
"But my favorites are the ones who find the way to be themselves in their art."
Are they hot?
"I'm, um, I'm not sure if they're, like, hot, but um, like, I think they're usually beautiful?"
There you go, just like that.
She opened her eyes.
"What's your favorite, um, math... thing?"
She nearly smiled.
Well.
There was beauty in method and beauty in results and beauty in the experience.
Pippi was, arguably, in favor of the beauty in method rather than the results or the experience.
There was something very, very beautiful about a quick and simple equation.
When the mathematics just perfectly added up, when the numbers just fell into place, when Pippi just looked at the numbers and everything clicked: that was beauty.
A pure form of beauty. Unadulterated, homogenous, perfect. It was beautiful and pure, and Pippi was glad that she was one of the few that understood how it worked. There was beauty in simplicity, and there was beauty in hardships, and Pippi was a hopeless romantic.
"A compound of five cubes," she said, going against her inner monologue. She had an eye for beauty all around the mathematical spectrum. It didn't need to be simple sometimes, and Pippi always loved pushing puzzles to their limits. "It was first described by Edmund Hess in 1876. It's one of the five regular polyhedral compounds. Essentially, it means a shape that exists in 3D that shares the same common centre. The common core in this case is the rhombic triacontahedron, which essentially means a shape that's made up of shapes where the four sides are equal. I'm bastardizing it, but long story short, it's a pretty jumbled mess of colours."
She took a deep breath.
"Anyways, sorry, neeeerd alert," she turned toward the nearest camera. "Seriously though! Google it, it's super pretty!"
She turned back toward Luanne.
"I'm telling you this because, well, once we get out, you can show me your favorite artists and art pieces and I'll gawk at them and then I guess I'll show you my math stuff and you can, you know, do whatever you want with it." There was beauty in everything. She just had to show it to the world. Pippi squeezed Luanne's hands again.
"Let's find a way to send everyone back home, okay?"
There was beauty in method and beauty in results and beauty in the experience.
Pippi was, arguably, in favor of the beauty in method rather than the results or the experience.
There was something very, very beautiful about a quick and simple equation.
When the mathematics just perfectly added up, when the numbers just fell into place, when Pippi just looked at the numbers and everything clicked: that was beauty.
A pure form of beauty. Unadulterated, homogenous, perfect. It was beautiful and pure, and Pippi was glad that she was one of the few that understood how it worked. There was beauty in simplicity, and there was beauty in hardships, and Pippi was a hopeless romantic.
"A compound of five cubes," she said, going against her inner monologue. She had an eye for beauty all around the mathematical spectrum. It didn't need to be simple sometimes, and Pippi always loved pushing puzzles to their limits. "It was first described by Edmund Hess in 1876. It's one of the five regular polyhedral compounds. Essentially, it means a shape that exists in 3D that shares the same common centre. The common core in this case is the rhombic triacontahedron, which essentially means a shape that's made up of shapes where the four sides are equal. I'm bastardizing it, but long story short, it's a pretty jumbled mess of colours."
She took a deep breath.
"Anyways, sorry, neeeerd alert," she turned toward the nearest camera. "Seriously though! Google it, it's super pretty!"
She turned back toward Luanne.
"I'm telling you this because, well, once we get out, you can show me your favorite artists and art pieces and I'll gawk at them and then I guess I'll show you my math stuff and you can, you know, do whatever you want with it." There was beauty in everything. She just had to show it to the world. Pippi squeezed Luanne's hands again.
"Let's find a way to send everyone back home, okay?"
((Amy Barrows-Shaw continued from Bloody Palms))
Amy rounded back the corner of the wall, turning to look at her companions. Her group had arrived over the side of the ship opposite of Luanne and Pippi, juggling their equipment up the access ladder with some shared difficulty. Roberto had given them the most grief, but Amy refused to leave a man behind. They would’ve entered the same exit Luanne had used, had they not spotted the pair first. Instead, they were using the access structure as their cover.
“There’s two of them. They’re not on our teams.”
She had been spying on the pair from the reasonably safe distance, though it was too far to hear what they were saying. Because Amy was the least armed, she had wound up with the job of scoping out the other people. She would have objected, because she would’ve much rather gone below deck and found a quiet room, but she really didn’t want to get into another argument over it.
“I think one’s that Bloodworth girl,” she said, Pippi being one of the few people she could easily remember thanks to her eccentric fashion sense. Amy could’ve sworn her chaps were missing their fabric in the rear, but her eyes must’ve been playing tricks on her. She really hoped that was the case.
“I don’t know who the other one is though.” she continued. Luanne was too quiet and too modestly dressed to show up on Amy’s radar. “They were holding hands. I think Bloodworth might have something on her belt, but I couldn’t tell for sure.”
She inhaled through her nose while squeezing Roberto for comfort, who continued vibing in his hot pink bikini bottoms. It wasn’t that she was afraid the other two would attack her, the early alliance had put her at relative ease, and the gun and the falx took care of the remaining concern. Rather, she was afraid she’d be made to do all the talking, maybe because she was the girl. She really didn’t want to have to keep doing that.
So she stared at RJ and Luciano without a further word, waiting to see what they wanted to do.
Amy rounded back the corner of the wall, turning to look at her companions. Her group had arrived over the side of the ship opposite of Luanne and Pippi, juggling their equipment up the access ladder with some shared difficulty. Roberto had given them the most grief, but Amy refused to leave a man behind. They would’ve entered the same exit Luanne had used, had they not spotted the pair first. Instead, they were using the access structure as their cover.
“There’s two of them. They’re not on our teams.”
She had been spying on the pair from the reasonably safe distance, though it was too far to hear what they were saying. Because Amy was the least armed, she had wound up with the job of scoping out the other people. She would have objected, because she would’ve much rather gone below deck and found a quiet room, but she really didn’t want to get into another argument over it.
“I think one’s that Bloodworth girl,” she said, Pippi being one of the few people she could easily remember thanks to her eccentric fashion sense. Amy could’ve sworn her chaps were missing their fabric in the rear, but her eyes must’ve been playing tricks on her. She really hoped that was the case.
“I don’t know who the other one is though.” she continued. Luanne was too quiet and too modestly dressed to show up on Amy’s radar. “They were holding hands. I think Bloodworth might have something on her belt, but I couldn’t tell for sure.”
She inhaled through her nose while squeezing Roberto for comfort, who continued vibing in his hot pink bikini bottoms. It wasn’t that she was afraid the other two would attack her, the early alliance had put her at relative ease, and the gun and the falx took care of the remaining concern. Rather, she was afraid she’d be made to do all the talking, maybe because she was the girl. She really didn’t want to have to keep doing that.
So she stared at RJ and Luciano without a further word, waiting to see what they wanted to do.
-
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[[RJ Blackburn continued from Bloody Palms]]
Despite it being his suggestion, RJ couldn't help but hesitate at the idea of adding on to their little group. He wanted to trust his classmates, go to them with open arms and see what they could do about the current situation. They had gone to high school for so long, and some of them had known each other even longer! Shouldn't they all trust each other? Or at least not be capable of killing each other?
But over sixty seasons of this show proved, no, they probably weren't. How many people had thought the exact same thing, or something similar? And how many of those same people ended up dying on this show? In the grand scheme of things, he doubted they would be that special. Maybe if this were a movie or something, but not here. Not in real life.
Still, though, it was clear some people could be trusted. Amy hadn't tried clubbing him with the mannequin before he had a chance to get his weapon. Luciano hadn't tried stabbing him or anything. And there were people on his team-an actual team, which was apparently a thing in more recent seasons of SOTF. There had to still be people they could trust. There had to be.
And this compromise had been his suggestion. That meant he had to have a hand in it, whether it was good or horribly stupid.
RJ let out a sigh, trying and failing to release the anxiety building up inside him.
"Either of you want to join me in talking with them? I think I could get Pippi on our side, and the other girl might agree if she does."
RJ and Pippi were on good terms. Maybe not the closest, but he could at least confirm they were friends. Kids with weird names had to stick together, you know?
The other girl was the wild card. He couldn't tell who she was this far away, just that she was a girl. Hopefully she would just agree with Pippi.
He didn't want to think of the alternative. If she didn't.
Despite it being his suggestion, RJ couldn't help but hesitate at the idea of adding on to their little group. He wanted to trust his classmates, go to them with open arms and see what they could do about the current situation. They had gone to high school for so long, and some of them had known each other even longer! Shouldn't they all trust each other? Or at least not be capable of killing each other?
But over sixty seasons of this show proved, no, they probably weren't. How many people had thought the exact same thing, or something similar? And how many of those same people ended up dying on this show? In the grand scheme of things, he doubted they would be that special. Maybe if this were a movie or something, but not here. Not in real life.
Still, though, it was clear some people could be trusted. Amy hadn't tried clubbing him with the mannequin before he had a chance to get his weapon. Luciano hadn't tried stabbing him or anything. And there were people on his team-an actual team, which was apparently a thing in more recent seasons of SOTF. There had to still be people they could trust. There had to be.
And this compromise had been his suggestion. That meant he had to have a hand in it, whether it was good or horribly stupid.
RJ let out a sigh, trying and failing to release the anxiety building up inside him.
"Either of you want to join me in talking with them? I think I could get Pippi on our side, and the other girl might agree if she does."
RJ and Pippi were on good terms. Maybe not the closest, but he could at least confirm they were friends. Kids with weird names had to stick together, you know?
The other girl was the wild card. He couldn't tell who she was this far away, just that she was a girl. Hopefully she would just agree with Pippi.
He didn't want to think of the alternative. If she didn't.
"That sounds nice."
Luanne felt a little bit like how she imagined Noreen felt when she talked to her about art. The -hedrons and compounds all sort of blurred together into a big blob of geometry, like how Monet and Manet and Matisse and Mondrian and Millet and Millais probably all blended together into a blob of men whose names started with M. But that was all okay, because Pippi sounded really passionate about math, and... well, it usually made Luanne feel warm and fuzzy inside when she heard people talking about things that really meant something to them, but it was very difficult to really feel that way when you were acutely aware that every single breath you took had the potential to be your last.
...
...And she wasn't completely lost! She'd read enough about M.C. Escher to kind of vaguely understand what Pippi was talking about, kind of. At least, it sounded kind of Eschery, but with colours.
Were she and Pippi friends? She wasn't sure. She'd never really, well, had one. Noreen didn't count, because Noreen was her sister.
...
She felt Pippi squeeze her hands.
...
There wasn't a way to send everyone home. Not here. Not at sea.
...
She spoke quietly.
"Before they took us, I was working on a sketch. It was kind of... it was about SOTF on a boat, in the middle of the ocean, and it was about an escape attempt. It was based on The Raft of the Medusa, in the Louvre. So... I think, if we make it out, I'd like to take you to see that."
Really, she wanted to take Pippi to the d'Orsay more. The d'Orsay didn't have a lot of hot artists, but it had a lot of, ummmmmm, hot paintings, and she thought Pippi would maybe find those interesting? The Louvre thing was directed at Jewel Evans more than anyone else. She hoped she was watching. It would have been kind of, um... anticlimactic for her to just ignore Luanne if she'd responded to Noreen's tweet. It wouldn't make sense for television - all the lost drama potential or whatever. Luanne was pretty sure that, at the very least, the producers wanted her to have a Jewel preoccupation.
...
She didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else to do.
So she let her head slump down, and she just stood there, still holding on to Pippi's hands, reminding herself over and over again to not stop breathing.
Luanne felt a little bit like how she imagined Noreen felt when she talked to her about art. The -hedrons and compounds all sort of blurred together into a big blob of geometry, like how Monet and Manet and Matisse and Mondrian and Millet and Millais probably all blended together into a blob of men whose names started with M. But that was all okay, because Pippi sounded really passionate about math, and... well, it usually made Luanne feel warm and fuzzy inside when she heard people talking about things that really meant something to them, but it was very difficult to really feel that way when you were acutely aware that every single breath you took had the potential to be your last.
...
...And she wasn't completely lost! She'd read enough about M.C. Escher to kind of vaguely understand what Pippi was talking about, kind of. At least, it sounded kind of Eschery, but with colours.
Were she and Pippi friends? She wasn't sure. She'd never really, well, had one. Noreen didn't count, because Noreen was her sister.
...
She felt Pippi squeeze her hands.
...
There wasn't a way to send everyone home. Not here. Not at sea.
...
She spoke quietly.
"Before they took us, I was working on a sketch. It was kind of... it was about SOTF on a boat, in the middle of the ocean, and it was about an escape attempt. It was based on The Raft of the Medusa, in the Louvre. So... I think, if we make it out, I'd like to take you to see that."
Really, she wanted to take Pippi to the d'Orsay more. The d'Orsay didn't have a lot of hot artists, but it had a lot of, ummmmmm, hot paintings, and she thought Pippi would maybe find those interesting? The Louvre thing was directed at Jewel Evans more than anyone else. She hoped she was watching. It would have been kind of, um... anticlimactic for her to just ignore Luanne if she'd responded to Noreen's tweet. It wouldn't make sense for television - all the lost drama potential or whatever. Luanne was pretty sure that, at the very least, the producers wanted her to have a Jewel preoccupation.
...
She didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else to do.
So she let her head slump down, and she just stood there, still holding on to Pippi's hands, reminding herself over and over again to not stop breathing.
Mhm.
Mhm.
Mhm.
Mhm.
Pippi was almost humming.
"I'd love to see it. Luanne."
She smiled. Her teeth showed their face for the first time on the island. "You look like the type of girl who's really good at drawing."
She pulled Luanne closer, tugging on her hands like rubberbands. "I'd love to see them." She smiled again. "All of your drawings."
But.
But but but but but but but but but but but but.
That might be easier said than done, and Pippi wasn't sure if it could even be done. She smiled again. Shining through time and space. That was what SOTF-TV was about. A moment capture in time and space forever and ever, engraved on a disk and hidden in plain sight for everyone to see. A small moment of time. It was very small. But Pippi could do it.
Maybe.
"Let's go, okay? I wanna' go check inside the boat." She nods at her own statement. "There could be more resources to scavenge."
And a selfish part of her.
Even tiny as it was.
Wanted to get it first.
Mhm.
Mhm.
Mhm.
Pippi was almost humming.
"I'd love to see it. Luanne."
She smiled. Her teeth showed their face for the first time on the island. "You look like the type of girl who's really good at drawing."
She pulled Luanne closer, tugging on her hands like rubberbands. "I'd love to see them." She smiled again. "All of your drawings."
But.
But but but but but but but but but but but but.
That might be easier said than done, and Pippi wasn't sure if it could even be done. She smiled again. Shining through time and space. That was what SOTF-TV was about. A moment capture in time and space forever and ever, engraved on a disk and hidden in plain sight for everyone to see. A small moment of time. It was very small. But Pippi could do it.
Maybe.
"Let's go, okay? I wanna' go check inside the boat." She nods at her own statement. "There could be more resources to scavenge."
And a selfish part of her.
Even tiny as it was.
Wanted to get it first.
You look like the type of girl who's really good at drawing.
You look like the type of girl who can't even put in the effort to seem interesting. You look boring. You look like you're half-there. You look like in a few years your only friends will be your pets. You don't even have any pets. Well, that's just sad.
You look like the type of girl where, if someone wants to know all about you, they just look at the surface. Then they think, 'Well, that's her,' like there's nothing behind it.
Pippi said it like it was a good thing. That was nice of her. Luanne was used to it being a bad thing. Pippi didn't look like the kind of person who would be good at math, traditionally, but Luanne thought she looked good at math, because being good at math didn't have anything to do with how a person looked, and so she thought everyone looked good at math. Noreen was good at things like math, but Luanne wouldn't dare tell anyone that.
She felt Pippi pull her closer. Usually, she wasn't one for physical contact. Once, while she'd been sketching something, Noreen had snuck up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder, and she'd reflexively spun around and accidentally hit Noreen in the face with her sketchbook. But she hadn't done that to Pippi, so... that was good.
Pippi said she wanted to see Luanne's drawings.
Even if they made it out, Luanne wasn't sure if she could do that. Her sketchbooks were a very personal thing. They were where she hid the darkest parts of her. She'd drawn her hopes and dreams, she'd drawn her fears and nightmares, she'd drawn allegorical suicide notes, she'd drawn a lot of things. She drew because art was the only lens she could view reality through without wanting to just lie down and die right there on the floor.
(And also one of her sketchbooks had a drawing of Pippi in it, which Pippi probably didn't know about, and it was a figure study, which meant, um, the drawing was naked. And it wasn't, like, a weird sex pervert sketch, and Pippi'd been wearing clothes when Luanne had drawn it, it was just the drawing that was naked, and it was just Pippi tying her shoes as seen from the side. There was like half a boob and that was it. She'd just drawn it as practice, because it was important to know how to draw people (and anyways she drew plenty of figure studies, so it wasn't like Pippi was special or anything). When mom had stolen her sketchbook, she'd probably seen it, and now she probably thought Luanne was like, a lesbian or something. Luanne was pretty sure she wasn't a lesbian, because sometimes she spent a lot of time ogling paintings of naked men. But she did also spend a lot of time ogling paintings of naked women. So maybe she was somewhere in-between lesbian and not-lesbian. Or maybe she was none of it. She didn't know. She probably wouldn't ever know. She'd never really felt comfortable with trying to figure that side of herself out.
But anyways, she digressed... um, she didn't want to show Pippi her sketchbook, because that would be awkward, so... mhm. And it wasn't like it mattered, since they were probably going to die, and if they didn't die, well, it wasn't like she knew how to have friends anyways.)
Her hands started feeling kind of clammy.
She didn't want to die.
Living wasn't one of her talents.
Luanne's gaze lifted from the ground and to Pippi's eyes. She was glad she was wearing sunglasses, because it meant she didn't have to worry about things like eye contact. Pippi was smiling. Luanne wasn't sure why. She was like, really really smiling though, with teeth and everything. Luanne didn't know how to smile like that.
The sun felt very warm, and her hair was sticking to her face again, and that was bothering her a lot. Pippi was holding her hands, which meant she couldn't unstick it. Once, Noreen had thrown a piece of angel hair pasta at her face (it was a long story), and it felt kind of like that stuck to her forehead. She put a lot of work into her hair. Taking care of it didn't make her want to rip her own face off like doing makeup did.
...
Imagine dying frightened and alone and in pain, like you're Sean Davidson. Imagine dying frightened and alone and in pain and having that as the only part of you that survives this place, like you're Jewel Evans.
Luanne was used to living frightened and alone and in pain. It wasn't all that difficult for her to imagine dying as herself.
...
Okay just
Stop.
She still felt the same here as she did when she was on the other side of the camera.
Don't do that
Stop
Breathe.
...
Pippi wanted to go back into the boat. Luanne blinked. The camera's gaze hit the side of her face.
"Sure, um... yeah. Okay."
She kind of half-shrugged. She trusted Pippi had a good reason. Maybe she'd seen something that Luanne hadn't, and decided it wasn't worth it to stay up here.
She hoped she and Pippi were actually on the same page. Pippi was a little bit like modern art, and Luanne was usually pretty good at figuring out modern art, but sometimes she looked too deep and found meaning where there wasn't supposed to be any.
Part of her was scared Pippi was only pretending to have a plan.
Oh well.
She let Pippi drag her along back into the ship.
((Luanne Grasset and Pippi Bloodworth continued elsewhere.))
You look like the type of girl who can't even put in the effort to seem interesting. You look boring. You look like you're half-there. You look like in a few years your only friends will be your pets. You don't even have any pets. Well, that's just sad.
You look like the type of girl where, if someone wants to know all about you, they just look at the surface. Then they think, 'Well, that's her,' like there's nothing behind it.
Pippi said it like it was a good thing. That was nice of her. Luanne was used to it being a bad thing. Pippi didn't look like the kind of person who would be good at math, traditionally, but Luanne thought she looked good at math, because being good at math didn't have anything to do with how a person looked, and so she thought everyone looked good at math. Noreen was good at things like math, but Luanne wouldn't dare tell anyone that.
She felt Pippi pull her closer. Usually, she wasn't one for physical contact. Once, while she'd been sketching something, Noreen had snuck up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder, and she'd reflexively spun around and accidentally hit Noreen in the face with her sketchbook. But she hadn't done that to Pippi, so... that was good.
Pippi said she wanted to see Luanne's drawings.
Even if they made it out, Luanne wasn't sure if she could do that. Her sketchbooks were a very personal thing. They were where she hid the darkest parts of her. She'd drawn her hopes and dreams, she'd drawn her fears and nightmares, she'd drawn allegorical suicide notes, she'd drawn a lot of things. She drew because art was the only lens she could view reality through without wanting to just lie down and die right there on the floor.
(And also one of her sketchbooks had a drawing of Pippi in it, which Pippi probably didn't know about, and it was a figure study, which meant, um, the drawing was naked. And it wasn't, like, a weird sex pervert sketch, and Pippi'd been wearing clothes when Luanne had drawn it, it was just the drawing that was naked, and it was just Pippi tying her shoes as seen from the side. There was like half a boob and that was it. She'd just drawn it as practice, because it was important to know how to draw people (and anyways she drew plenty of figure studies, so it wasn't like Pippi was special or anything). When mom had stolen her sketchbook, she'd probably seen it, and now she probably thought Luanne was like, a lesbian or something. Luanne was pretty sure she wasn't a lesbian, because sometimes she spent a lot of time ogling paintings of naked men. But she did also spend a lot of time ogling paintings of naked women. So maybe she was somewhere in-between lesbian and not-lesbian. Or maybe she was none of it. She didn't know. She probably wouldn't ever know. She'd never really felt comfortable with trying to figure that side of herself out.
But anyways, she digressed... um, she didn't want to show Pippi her sketchbook, because that would be awkward, so... mhm. And it wasn't like it mattered, since they were probably going to die, and if they didn't die, well, it wasn't like she knew how to have friends anyways.)
Her hands started feeling kind of clammy.
She didn't want to die.
Living wasn't one of her talents.
Luanne's gaze lifted from the ground and to Pippi's eyes. She was glad she was wearing sunglasses, because it meant she didn't have to worry about things like eye contact. Pippi was smiling. Luanne wasn't sure why. She was like, really really smiling though, with teeth and everything. Luanne didn't know how to smile like that.
The sun felt very warm, and her hair was sticking to her face again, and that was bothering her a lot. Pippi was holding her hands, which meant she couldn't unstick it. Once, Noreen had thrown a piece of angel hair pasta at her face (it was a long story), and it felt kind of like that stuck to her forehead. She put a lot of work into her hair. Taking care of it didn't make her want to rip her own face off like doing makeup did.
...
Imagine dying frightened and alone and in pain, like you're Sean Davidson. Imagine dying frightened and alone and in pain and having that as the only part of you that survives this place, like you're Jewel Evans.
Luanne was used to living frightened and alone and in pain. It wasn't all that difficult for her to imagine dying as herself.
...
Okay just
Stop.
She still felt the same here as she did when she was on the other side of the camera.
Don't do that
Stop
Breathe.
...
Pippi wanted to go back into the boat. Luanne blinked. The camera's gaze hit the side of her face.
"Sure, um... yeah. Okay."
She kind of half-shrugged. She trusted Pippi had a good reason. Maybe she'd seen something that Luanne hadn't, and decided it wasn't worth it to stay up here.
She hoped she and Pippi were actually on the same page. Pippi was a little bit like modern art, and Luanne was usually pretty good at figuring out modern art, but sometimes she looked too deep and found meaning where there wasn't supposed to be any.
Part of her was scared Pippi was only pretending to have a plan.
Oh well.
She let Pippi drag her along back into the ship.
((Luanne Grasset and Pippi Bloodworth continued elsewhere.))