Verity Stewart had never really cared for the ocean.
And she still didn’t. She smelt the sea and saw the moon and heard the waves but none of those things were enough to penetrate her mind as she stepped onto the upper deck, walked across to the railing on the other end. There was the gun she’d just used to kill Keegan in her hand. There was something wet on her face, and there was something cold on her other hand as it clutched the railing. Squeezed and crushed and tried to break through all other physical feeling, tried to be the pain she felt most right now.
She stood there, for a bit.
Took a breath.
Took a breath.
And then she turned around and screamed and aimed the gun and fired at Ivan.
Violet Hill
when the future's architectured... by a carnival of idiots on show... you better lie low... (private)
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Wham Yubeesling
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The Honeless Beard
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Nothing but the wind.
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Wham Yubeesling
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The bullets went nowhere. Sailed into the night. Ivan must’ve left by now. Fucked absolutely everything up and then ran off to the House Boat to laugh about it. Treat it like some great victory. Because who was Keegan to Ivan? Who was Giselle? Who was anyone else on the ferry? They weren’t the person who just tried to hash who they and their closest friend even were moments before he killed them. They weren’t the person who all their teammates took the effort to mourn after their deaths. No. They were just… strangers. Video game people. They did something to Ivan, so now it was completely fine for Ivan to come back and kill them. Take them out. No mercy.
(but who was Timothy, to you?)
(who was Keegan?)
(who are all the people in the ferry, right now?)
She took a breath.
Took a breath.
And turned around. Put her hand on the railing. Moved her head up so that it was… pointing in a direction. Maybe it was looking at something, but nothing in her brain was really going as far as her optic nerves. Interpreting what she was looking at. She was just there. Looking at. There was no deck. There was no boat. There was no ocean. There was no afternoon sun. Those were just really elaborate bits of background that she could see if she looked hard enough. It was only her. Only Verity.
And Timothy.
And Keegan.
He had joined her too. The people that kind of floated around the back of her head. The ones who’d be there forever, as they had nowhere else they could be. There was… a scene she remembered, from An-
(“That’s the deal?” Jake asked. “That’s it?”)
(“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I asked the Drode.)
(The Drode laughed. “Oh, yes. There is something else, little Cassie. Cassie the killer with a conscience. Kill ‘em, then cry over ‘em. That’s our Cassie.”)
(“What’s the something else?” I repeated, not letting the evil little creep see that his words had hit home.)
-her head tilted down. Saw something. Or, well, almost saw something. The ocean, down below. The darkness was enough to cover up the sea below from here, but she could still see bits of moonlight reflect up from down below, bits of wave churn and shake the floor beneath her feet. The wind was here too. It was just like that first day, up on the deck of the cruise ship. When she’d killed two people in twelve hours. When she’d realized that she was set on a path. That inevitability had put her on her course. She’d tried to stop it, she’d tried to come up with another path, but… all she’d done until she’d killed Keegan was walk around and not kill people. There’d been no real purpose. No real goal to… anything, before now.
Because of course there was no changing what she was. There was no preventing what Verity was going to become. The moment Timothy had failed to come up from the water her path was set in stone. The people who’d casted her had looked at each other and hi-fived because their choice had paid off. Their killer had killed. Twice in twelve hours. It didn’t even matter that Keegan had taken a day to get killed because-
(oh my god you’ve done this already verity shut the fuck up)
(are you going to try and kill yourself again?)
(pretend that’ll make it all better?)
(that water isn’t as far down as it was with the cruise ship, no way jumping down there kills you)
(not unless you stay under)
(not unless you just take that gun in your hand and put it in your mouth)
(but you won’t)
(because you don’t want to)
She opened her mouth. Left it there. Tried to say something. Respond. Try and feel the sound of words coming through her throat. Something other than the wind, her hand on the railing, the muscle in use that was her jaw.
(you just want everybody to know you feel sorry about everything)
(you just want to make it up without actually putting in any of the work)
(you pushed Timothy off the ship)
(you shot Keegan)
(and you just want to believe that there was nothing you could do to not do any of that)
(and you just want to keep on doing this and keep on making it seem like it’s not your fault)
(that’s who you are)
(that’s our Verity)
She opened her mouth.
She opened her mouth.
Tried to find what the something else was. Found nothing.
Just stood there.
Looked into the ocean.
Stayed. Forever.
(but who was Timothy, to you?)
(who was Keegan?)
(who are all the people in the ferry, right now?)
She took a breath.
Took a breath.
And turned around. Put her hand on the railing. Moved her head up so that it was… pointing in a direction. Maybe it was looking at something, but nothing in her brain was really going as far as her optic nerves. Interpreting what she was looking at. She was just there. Looking at. There was no deck. There was no boat. There was no ocean. There was no afternoon sun. Those were just really elaborate bits of background that she could see if she looked hard enough. It was only her. Only Verity.
And Timothy.
And Keegan.
He had joined her too. The people that kind of floated around the back of her head. The ones who’d be there forever, as they had nowhere else they could be. There was… a scene she remembered, from An-
(“That’s the deal?” Jake asked. “That’s it?”)
(“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I asked the Drode.)
(The Drode laughed. “Oh, yes. There is something else, little Cassie. Cassie the killer with a conscience. Kill ‘em, then cry over ‘em. That’s our Cassie.”)
(“What’s the something else?” I repeated, not letting the evil little creep see that his words had hit home.)
-her head tilted down. Saw something. Or, well, almost saw something. The ocean, down below. The darkness was enough to cover up the sea below from here, but she could still see bits of moonlight reflect up from down below, bits of wave churn and shake the floor beneath her feet. The wind was here too. It was just like that first day, up on the deck of the cruise ship. When she’d killed two people in twelve hours. When she’d realized that she was set on a path. That inevitability had put her on her course. She’d tried to stop it, she’d tried to come up with another path, but… all she’d done until she’d killed Keegan was walk around and not kill people. There’d been no real purpose. No real goal to… anything, before now.
Because of course there was no changing what she was. There was no preventing what Verity was going to become. The moment Timothy had failed to come up from the water her path was set in stone. The people who’d casted her had looked at each other and hi-fived because their choice had paid off. Their killer had killed. Twice in twelve hours. It didn’t even matter that Keegan had taken a day to get killed because-
(oh my god you’ve done this already verity shut the fuck up)
(are you going to try and kill yourself again?)
(pretend that’ll make it all better?)
(that water isn’t as far down as it was with the cruise ship, no way jumping down there kills you)
(not unless you stay under)
(not unless you just take that gun in your hand and put it in your mouth)
(but you won’t)
(because you don’t want to)
She opened her mouth. Left it there. Tried to say something. Respond. Try and feel the sound of words coming through her throat. Something other than the wind, her hand on the railing, the muscle in use that was her jaw.
(you just want everybody to know you feel sorry about everything)
(you just want to make it up without actually putting in any of the work)
(you pushed Timothy off the ship)
(you shot Keegan)
(and you just want to believe that there was nothing you could do to not do any of that)
(and you just want to keep on doing this and keep on making it seem like it’s not your fault)
(that’s who you are)
(that’s our Verity)
She opened her mouth.
She opened her mouth.
Tried to find what the something else was. Found nothing.
Just stood there.
Looked into the ocean.
Stayed. Forever.
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Catche Jagger
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“Hey, um, Verity?” Came a voice from the top of the stairwell.
((James Highchurch continued from Hi Friend!/Bye Friend!))
James had come up not long after Verity, hearing the gunshots as he ascended the stairway. However, whatever concern he might have held over the possibility that Ivan had remained above, waiting for another chance to strike, faded away when he saw Verity standing alone.
He’d waited a bit before speaking, wanting to let Verity have whatever moment she was having before intruding. She was mourning, after all. They all were, though the thought of that felt like such a hypocritical gesture.
James knew that Fisk and Vasily had killed Seth. Hell, he’d watched members of their gang kill Calla and Jasper. Did it really make much sense to get to sentimental, to mourn their own losses when life was otherwise so disposable? Maybe he was just being a fool of himself thinking like that in a show where killing was the goal and there were so few people he could trust. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d played the idiot out here.
“I’m just checking in. Wanted to make sure you were doing alright. Or… you know, as alright as you can?” He continued, taking a couple steps towards her, but still trying to give her space.
((James Highchurch continued from Hi Friend!/Bye Friend!))
James had come up not long after Verity, hearing the gunshots as he ascended the stairway. However, whatever concern he might have held over the possibility that Ivan had remained above, waiting for another chance to strike, faded away when he saw Verity standing alone.
He’d waited a bit before speaking, wanting to let Verity have whatever moment she was having before intruding. She was mourning, after all. They all were, though the thought of that felt like such a hypocritical gesture.
James knew that Fisk and Vasily had killed Seth. Hell, he’d watched members of their gang kill Calla and Jasper. Did it really make much sense to get to sentimental, to mourn their own losses when life was otherwise so disposable? Maybe he was just being a fool of himself thinking like that in a show where killing was the goal and there were so few people he could trust. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d played the idiot out here.
“I’m just checking in. Wanted to make sure you were doing alright. Or… you know, as alright as you can?” He continued, taking a couple steps towards her, but still trying to give her space.
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Wham Yubeesling
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Not forever. James had made sure of that. The space had been her and the railing and the ocean and now the space was her and the railing and the deck behind her. She didn’t quite know where exactly behind her he was, but she could hear his words, even through the echo and the ringing of all the gunshots. Of Keegan. His stomach. His chin. Of here, now, when she thought Ivan was behind her.
(what would’ve happened?)
(if Ivan was there)
(if it’d hit)
(what then?)
“I mean…”
She didn’t look back. She just stood there. All her eyes did was stare into the blank space past the railing.
“Kind of… have to be, right? Don’t… exactly have a choice. Not- not here.”
(what would’ve happened?)
(if Ivan was there)
(if it’d hit)
(what then?)
“I mean…”
She didn’t look back. She just stood there. All her eyes did was stare into the blank space past the railing.
“Kind of… have to be, right? Don’t… exactly have a choice. Not- not here.”
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Catche Jagger
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Verity didn’t look at him, her words were unsteady. It didn’t take a genius to tell that she was, in fact, not alright. She was isolated following the death of a friend, whether by her choice or an understanding of her place in the group.
“I, uh, actually only have limited experience there. Never really liked this show, to be honest.” James said with a shrug and a nervous laugh that he quickly realized might be a bit misplaced.
Clearing his throat, he made his way to the railing, beside Verity but keeping just out of arm’s reach. He didn’t look at her face, that still felt like a violation of privacy.
“Look,” he began, voice quieter now, “I wasn’t there when you joined, but I can tell you’re not Ms. Popularity around here. Still, I know that what happened at the banquet hall wasn’t your fault and this… Keegan wasn’t your fault either.” His voice cracked slightly when addressing their loss, and he had a sense that he might start crying uncontrollably, fucking up his attempt to help, but the moment passed.
“I just want you to know, if you’re staying with us and the others start getting edgy about things… I’ll try to help out if I can.”
The offer reminded him of one he’d made to Bacchia the previous night, before she’d disappeared over the edge of the ferry and into the sea below.
“I, uh, actually only have limited experience there. Never really liked this show, to be honest.” James said with a shrug and a nervous laugh that he quickly realized might be a bit misplaced.
Clearing his throat, he made his way to the railing, beside Verity but keeping just out of arm’s reach. He didn’t look at her face, that still felt like a violation of privacy.
“Look,” he began, voice quieter now, “I wasn’t there when you joined, but I can tell you’re not Ms. Popularity around here. Still, I know that what happened at the banquet hall wasn’t your fault and this… Keegan wasn’t your fault either.” His voice cracked slightly when addressing their loss, and he had a sense that he might start crying uncontrollably, fucking up his attempt to help, but the moment passed.
“I just want you to know, if you’re staying with us and the others start getting edgy about things… I’ll try to help out if I can.”
The offer reminded him of one he’d made to Bacchia the previous night, before she’d disappeared over the edge of the ferry and into the sea below.
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Wham Yubeesling
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“Okay.”
She wanted to respond to what he said about the banquet hall. How it wasn’t her fault. She wanted to say that he was wrong. It was her fault. She had spun around, when Bacchia had tried to get one up on them. She had pointed the gun. She had let rip, all those days ago. It didn’t matter that it was Keegan specifically who had gotten hit. She had chosen violence on instinct. Whoever died there — whether it was Keegan or Bacchia or James or Alyssa or Verity herself — would’ve been her cross to bear. She had fired. Someone had gotten hit. It would've been Verity's fault no matter what the variable was. The someone who fired the gun wouldn’t have changed if the someone who’d gotten hit had. That was the constant. Verity being the one to blame was the constant.
(and also, like, timothy)
(remember him?)
(remember how you killed him before any of this happened?)
(remember how you tried to act like it never happened when you met Alyssa?)
She wanted to respond to what he said about the show. How he had never really liked it. She wanted to say that she had kinda forgotten that she was on TV. How… somewhere in the middle of all of this the cameras had become so normal that she didn’t even note where they were when she entered a room. How there were people watching this. Them. What had happened just before. How there were people who were rolling their eyes seeing all this and saying that Verity needed to stop crying. Stop killing people if she felt bad about it. Start changing who she was. Do the things they wanted her to do. Stop being the girl who’d been thrown into this game and start being a contestant. A character. A video game person.
She wanted to tell James that she kind of hated the show too.
But she couldn’t. There’d been three things he’d said. She barely even had the mental wherewithal to respond to just one of them. She opened her mouth again. Felt the air outside go into her throat and stay there. Didn’t say anything, for a second.
“I… don’t think it’s a good idea if you try and be my friend, though.”
She turned her head. Not all the way, but enough. James was a little bit within her vision now. He’d see her looking at him.
“I’ve had a habit of killing them these last couple days.”
She wanted to respond to what he said about the banquet hall. How it wasn’t her fault. She wanted to say that he was wrong. It was her fault. She had spun around, when Bacchia had tried to get one up on them. She had pointed the gun. She had let rip, all those days ago. It didn’t matter that it was Keegan specifically who had gotten hit. She had chosen violence on instinct. Whoever died there — whether it was Keegan or Bacchia or James or Alyssa or Verity herself — would’ve been her cross to bear. She had fired. Someone had gotten hit. It would've been Verity's fault no matter what the variable was. The someone who fired the gun wouldn’t have changed if the someone who’d gotten hit had. That was the constant. Verity being the one to blame was the constant.
(and also, like, timothy)
(remember him?)
(remember how you killed him before any of this happened?)
(remember how you tried to act like it never happened when you met Alyssa?)
She wanted to respond to what he said about the show. How he had never really liked it. She wanted to say that she had kinda forgotten that she was on TV. How… somewhere in the middle of all of this the cameras had become so normal that she didn’t even note where they were when she entered a room. How there were people watching this. Them. What had happened just before. How there were people who were rolling their eyes seeing all this and saying that Verity needed to stop crying. Stop killing people if she felt bad about it. Start changing who she was. Do the things they wanted her to do. Stop being the girl who’d been thrown into this game and start being a contestant. A character. A video game person.
She wanted to tell James that she kind of hated the show too.
But she couldn’t. There’d been three things he’d said. She barely even had the mental wherewithal to respond to just one of them. She opened her mouth again. Felt the air outside go into her throat and stay there. Didn’t say anything, for a second.
“I… don’t think it’s a good idea if you try and be my friend, though.”
She turned her head. Not all the way, but enough. James was a little bit within her vision now. He’d see her looking at him.
“I’ve had a habit of killing them these last couple days.”
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Catche Jagger
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Verity’s comment about killing her friends could have been taken as something of a threat, though for James it mostly just sounded sad. He hadn’t killed anyone in the game, in fact him and Sofia were now the only members of the Respects that could claim as much, but he’d known plenty of the names that had come through on the morning and evening announcements, and he’d personally been witness to three deaths now.
That was part of the drama of the show, he’d been told, the loss of and conflict with one’s friends and peers or whatever. Like James had said, he never really got it.
He noticed the turn of Verity’s head, and in response he turned his body, leaning against the railing, in order to face her.
“Well,” James began with a sigh, “it’s a good thing we’re not friends, then. I’m just some guy checking in on you.” There was a smile at his lips, but it was soft and didn’t extend to his eyes, which were just a bit too tired to follow up on the effort.
That was part of the drama of the show, he’d been told, the loss of and conflict with one’s friends and peers or whatever. Like James had said, he never really got it.
He noticed the turn of Verity’s head, and in response he turned his body, leaning against the railing, in order to face her.
“Well,” James began with a sigh, “it’s a good thing we’re not friends, then. I’m just some guy checking in on you.” There was a smile at his lips, but it was soft and didn’t extend to his eyes, which were just a bit too tired to follow up on the effort.
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Wham Yubeesling
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Okay. The boundary had been set. Whether it was because she didn’t want to grieve when the guy being nice to her inevitably died, or whether it was for the other reason, James was not her friend. He was just a comrade. The guy checking in on her. Nothing more.
Thank god.
“I think I just need to be by myself for a bit, but… thanks. I, um, mean that.”
Her head turned back towards the railing. She looked up. Saw the sky. The horizon. The world supposedly beyond. She thought about the last time she was like this. On the cruise ship. Before the game had even begun. She’d been wrong, then. Just like on a lot of things. There was a world, yes, but that didn’t really matter. There were no cameras. There was no show. Maybe not even any James. It was just her, standing here, touching the railing and the deck, looking at the night sky beyond.
Just her, and Timothy, and Keegan, and all the other people who would soon only exist there, in the back of her mind.
“But, um..."
She gulped.
"...If you go back down there, and you see Fisk, could you please tell him something for me?”
Thank god.
“I think I just need to be by myself for a bit, but… thanks. I, um, mean that.”
Her head turned back towards the railing. She looked up. Saw the sky. The horizon. The world supposedly beyond. She thought about the last time she was like this. On the cruise ship. Before the game had even begun. She’d been wrong, then. Just like on a lot of things. There was a world, yes, but that didn’t really matter. There were no cameras. There was no show. Maybe not even any James. It was just her, standing here, touching the railing and the deck, looking at the night sky beyond.
Just her, and Timothy, and Keegan, and all the other people who would soon only exist there, in the back of her mind.
“But, um..."
She gulped.
"...If you go back down there, and you see Fisk, could you please tell him something for me?”
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Catche Jagger
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Verity seemed to loosen up a bit following his comment, though it was possible that James was only seeing what he’d hoped from her reaction. She hadn’t initially responded, simply looking back out into the sea.
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you when you’re ready or whatever.” James gave a nod, scratching the back of his head as he started to head back for the stairs, stopping short as Verity spoke up again, and turning back towards her.
James thought she seemed, well, not quite so distant as before, but still showing some signs of uncertainty. She was an odd sort, but in a different sense than the other members of the Respects tended to be. She was awkward, sure, but in a kind of quiet way.
It was probably better that way, that she was quiet. The group probably didn’t need another Fisk or Vasily or Bacchia.
Shit, he really hoped Bacchia was okay.
“Oh, um, yeah. What is it?”
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you when you’re ready or whatever.” James gave a nod, scratching the back of his head as he started to head back for the stairs, stopping short as Verity spoke up again, and turning back towards her.
James thought she seemed, well, not quite so distant as before, but still showing some signs of uncertainty. She was an odd sort, but in a different sense than the other members of the Respects tended to be. She was awkward, sure, but in a kind of quiet way.
It was probably better that way, that she was quiet. The group probably didn’t need another Fisk or Vasily or Bacchia.
Shit, he really hoped Bacchia was okay.
“Oh, um, yeah. What is it?”
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Wham Yubeesling
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“Tell him that when he finds Ivan that I want to join in too.”
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Wham Yubeesling
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“Tell him I want my pound of flesh.”
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Catche Jagger
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James frowned at that. Verity was making a mistake, getting involved in the shit with Ivan, making it her problem. He wanted to tell her as much.
“Yeah, I’ll tell him when I see him.” Was instead all that he made clear, before giving a slow nod and leaving Verity alone.
((James Highchurch continued elsewhere…))
“Yeah, I’ll tell him when I see him.” Was instead all that he made clear, before giving a slow nod and leaving Verity alone.
((James Highchurch continued elsewhere…))
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Wham Yubeesling
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And he left. She heard footsteps go back down the stairs, and she knew that there wouldn’t be much of a point in giving him a goodbye. The world moved once more, the floor disappearing behind Verity as the ocean below her came into sight again. It was like how it was before James came. With Verity. With the gun she’d used to kill Keegan in one hand. With the now-warm railing in her other hand. With the wet on her face and with a feeling like her chest was trying to eat the rest of her whole. She was standing there. Looking into the ocean. Staying. Forever.
It was like how it was before James came. Only difference was the cameras.
She couldn’t see them, but she knew that they could see her. They were… behind her, maybe. Didn’t know where because she hadn’t looked at them, but… they were there. They could see her.
Here she was, having just done a thing that she’d been told no person should ever do for the second time, and the whole world was watching. Judging her for crying. Talking to their screen telling her who she should be instead.
Here she was, trying to figure out just how this was going to get worse, and there they were, wondering what exactly was going to happen next.
…
…
A little bit after she’d started getting into the show, she’d come across some old articles about the early seasons of the show. Of the old age of reality TV. Something she got caught onto was… some of the funny things about livefeeds. How usually they were forced to cut out for the dumbest things. Like castmates getting violent. Like castmates talking about the producers. Like castmates singing. Apparently even if it was public domain or the person’s own creation they had to cut feeds and sometimes tell the people to stop doing the music because they couldn’t risk the trouble that actual violation would bring.
She wondered whether that’d work here. Whether singing would… make her invisible to the audience, just like how making Shiva play music made her inaudible.
She tried to think of a song to sing.
She tried to think of a song to sing.
Because…
Because...
“I took my love down to violet hill…”
Because if Keegan had told her to kill him, then that meant that ending his life was her responsibility. Her cross to bear. All the guilt, all the tears on her face, all the things she was going to have to live with for a long, long time, that was all on her. Only on her. Not for anyone else.
“There we sat in snow…”
And if she had just committed, if she was going to have to shed who she had been before and gun down even more for a thin shot of making it through this, then she was going to do that for her. And Timothy. And Keegan. Not the people watching. Not the people all this had been meant for.
“All that time, we were silent still…”
And if all this had really been inevitable, if the forces above had chosen her because they knew she’d walk this path, then she wasn’t going to let them take their win. She wasn’t going to let them see what they’d made her.
“So if you love me, won’t you let me know?”
(She was wrong, though. About a lot of things. All the stuff about copyright had been patched over in the fifteen years since those shows had gone off air. SotF had become such a monopoly that copyright was no longer a problem for them.)
“If you love me, won’t you let me go?”
(The cameras had seen everything.)
((Verity Stewart, continued elsewhere…))
It was like how it was before James came. Only difference was the cameras.
She couldn’t see them, but she knew that they could see her. They were… behind her, maybe. Didn’t know where because she hadn’t looked at them, but… they were there. They could see her.
Here she was, having just done a thing that she’d been told no person should ever do for the second time, and the whole world was watching. Judging her for crying. Talking to their screen telling her who she should be instead.
Here she was, trying to figure out just how this was going to get worse, and there they were, wondering what exactly was going to happen next.
…
…
A little bit after she’d started getting into the show, she’d come across some old articles about the early seasons of the show. Of the old age of reality TV. Something she got caught onto was… some of the funny things about livefeeds. How usually they were forced to cut out for the dumbest things. Like castmates getting violent. Like castmates talking about the producers. Like castmates singing. Apparently even if it was public domain or the person’s own creation they had to cut feeds and sometimes tell the people to stop doing the music because they couldn’t risk the trouble that actual violation would bring.
She wondered whether that’d work here. Whether singing would… make her invisible to the audience, just like how making Shiva play music made her inaudible.
She tried to think of a song to sing.
She tried to think of a song to sing.
Because…
Because...
“I took my love down to violet hill…”
Because if Keegan had told her to kill him, then that meant that ending his life was her responsibility. Her cross to bear. All the guilt, all the tears on her face, all the things she was going to have to live with for a long, long time, that was all on her. Only on her. Not for anyone else.
“There we sat in snow…”
And if she had just committed, if she was going to have to shed who she had been before and gun down even more for a thin shot of making it through this, then she was going to do that for her. And Timothy. And Keegan. Not the people watching. Not the people all this had been meant for.
“All that time, we were silent still…”
And if all this had really been inevitable, if the forces above had chosen her because they knew she’d walk this path, then she wasn’t going to let them take their win. She wasn’t going to let them see what they’d made her.
“So if you love me, won’t you let me know?”
(She was wrong, though. About a lot of things. All the stuff about copyright had been patched over in the fifteen years since those shows had gone off air. SotF had become such a monopoly that copyright was no longer a problem for them.)
“If you love me, won’t you let me go?”
(The cameras had seen everything.)
((Verity Stewart, continued elsewhere…))