Six days.
Six days since this game had started. Six days since the seniors of P.J Hobbs had begun to turn on one another, killing each other in the hopes of being the one who made it out of this game alive. Six days since Maxwell had woken up on that bed, so sure of what he would do in this game. So sure that, no matter what, he wouldn't just die like Mr. Dolph had. So sure that no matter what, he wouldn't let anyone else in this class win. He'd known that some of his friends were here too at that time - Lyndi, Paris, Zubin, Felicia - and he'd known that he would have to face them at some point, but there wouldn't have been a choice. Even if he did care about them, even if they did care about him, they were in this game with him. If he wanted to win, if he made the choice to play this game, then they would have to fall.
And back then, to him, there was no choice. It was either win the game or die just like Mr. Dolph had.
Oh, how much times had changed during those six days.
…
The two of them had spent the rest of the previous day trying to find a way out of the tunnels. Even though they had prepared, even though they were ready to face the light once again, it seemed as if the world didn't want that to happen quite yet. They'd been lost, in the darkness. They'd been flailing around, trying to find a way out. Although they'd talked, they hadn't talked too much. Although Maxwell wanted to talk, to tell Daniel the bad things he had done, he couldn't find it all that appropriate, not when their main aim was just trying to find their way out of these god-forsaken tunnels.
And by the end of the day, they were still stuck in there, electing to sleep and choosing to figure a way out tomorrow.
And by the start of the next one, they had made it out. They were in… the quarry, it seemed like. They were walking around the hills and the pits when the speakers came to life.
...He kept walking, as Victor began to talk again. They weren't important enough for him to stop, so long as he could hear them he could-
"Felicia LaChapelle."
...
"I-"
…
…
"No-"
He stopped.
We're Runnin' Right Back, Here We Go Again
paging boogie, otherwise open
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Wham Yubeesling
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delicateMachine
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((Those tunnels were pretty bad, Daniel wasn't gonna lie.))
There weren't a lot of things in the world that Daniel was willing to look at and go like, 'nope, you have absolutely no redeeming qualities, my dude,' but after spending an entire day lost (the problem with wandering somewhere without any real intention of ever coming back out, haha wow that sounds dark, he swore he just wanted to mope, that's all, just mope and not save the terrorists the hassle of dealing with his body, nope) he was willing to unambiguously write off the tunnels as a tourist destination.
The flowers were a pretty nice reward to greet the two as they emerged from the cavernous depths, wincing at the sunlight which was unpleasant even though it was pleasant at the same time, because it was nice to see with their eyes even though it hurt, to see with their eyes. That kinda sucked. The flowers, though? Seriously gorgeous, and Daniel absently considered plucking a few for later so he could give a crappy bouquet to Rachael when they were reunited. It was a nice few seconds before he remembered, and that kinda sucked all the beauty out of the world, didn't it?
Then the announcements came on and Daniel's brain found the common decency to shut up for a while. It could have passed for a respectful moment of silence, if the terrorist at the mic hadn't been practicing his stand-up comedy. Not like that was new, but getting stabbed in the heart hurt just as much the fifth time, right?
Maxwell looked and sounded like that metaphor had literally happened to him, and considering that Daniel had been in that exact position the day prior, yeah that was pretty accurate. Daniel was bad at physical contact, and words, and comforting people, but... he'd been alone, and it had sucked, understatement of the second right there. Maxwell wasn't alone, so maybe Daniel could make it suck infinitesimally less.
He walked up to Maxwell, placed a hand on his shoulder because that seemed like the thing to do? That was comforting, right?
"I'm sorry." That part was easy, at least.
There weren't a lot of things in the world that Daniel was willing to look at and go like, 'nope, you have absolutely no redeeming qualities, my dude,' but after spending an entire day lost (the problem with wandering somewhere without any real intention of ever coming back out, haha wow that sounds dark, he swore he just wanted to mope, that's all, just mope and not save the terrorists the hassle of dealing with his body, nope) he was willing to unambiguously write off the tunnels as a tourist destination.
The flowers were a pretty nice reward to greet the two as they emerged from the cavernous depths, wincing at the sunlight which was unpleasant even though it was pleasant at the same time, because it was nice to see with their eyes even though it hurt, to see with their eyes. That kinda sucked. The flowers, though? Seriously gorgeous, and Daniel absently considered plucking a few for later so he could give a crappy bouquet to Rachael when they were reunited. It was a nice few seconds before he remembered, and that kinda sucked all the beauty out of the world, didn't it?
Then the announcements came on and Daniel's brain found the common decency to shut up for a while. It could have passed for a respectful moment of silence, if the terrorist at the mic hadn't been practicing his stand-up comedy. Not like that was new, but getting stabbed in the heart hurt just as much the fifth time, right?
Maxwell looked and sounded like that metaphor had literally happened to him, and considering that Daniel had been in that exact position the day prior, yeah that was pretty accurate. Daniel was bad at physical contact, and words, and comforting people, but... he'd been alone, and it had sucked, understatement of the second right there. Maxwell wasn't alone, so maybe Daniel could make it suck infinitesimally less.
He walked up to Maxwell, placed a hand on his shoulder because that seemed like the thing to do? That was comforting, right?
"I'm sorry." That part was easy, at least.
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Wham Yubeesling
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(hey, did you hear that?)
(did you hear what the man on the speakers said?)
He'd heard. He'd heard what Victor said but the words weren't connecting the meaning wasn't properly reaching
(felicia's dead)
(she's gone, and its all because of you)
He felt the hand on his shoulder and it brought him back. He looked at Daniel and heard what he said and he knew then that he had to focus. He had to hear who the other people deceased were. He had to focus on the game because he was in it
(just like how you focused on talking to Saachi when you could have just ran with Felicia)
(just like how you focused on yourself when you could have gone with your friend)
(and now she's gone)
(now she's with lyndi, paris, zubin)
(now she's with all the people you couldn't protect)
(now she's with all the people you killed)
And he couldn't
He couldn't be here
And he fell down, felt his knees buckle as they hit the ground.
And he screamed. Cried out of rage, of despair, of every emotion in his head that he couldn't name.
(serves you right)
(did you hear what the man on the speakers said?)
He'd heard. He'd heard what Victor said but the words weren't connecting the meaning wasn't properly reaching
(felicia's dead)
(she's gone, and its all because of you)
He felt the hand on his shoulder and it brought him back. He looked at Daniel and heard what he said and he knew then that he had to focus. He had to hear who the other people deceased were. He had to focus on the game because he was in it
(just like how you focused on talking to Saachi when you could have just ran with Felicia)
(just like how you focused on yourself when you could have gone with your friend)
(and now she's gone)
(now she's with lyndi, paris, zubin)
(now she's with all the people you couldn't protect)
(now she's with all the people you killed)
And he couldn't
He couldn't be here
And he fell down, felt his knees buckle as they hit the ground.
And he screamed. Cried out of rage, of despair, of every emotion in his head that he couldn't name.
(serves you right)
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delicateMachine
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Maxwell fell, and screamed, and Daniel did nothing. For once, he didn't think this was a personal failing. Even if someone competent had magically stolen his shoes, what could they possibly do? This was grief in its rawest, purest form. Someone irreplaceable had been lost. No chance to say goodbye, no closure. No chance of anything ever getting better. Maybe it would've healed with time, or maybe it would've stayed a gaping wound forever and eventually he'd just learn to live with it, but time wasn't really something either of them had.
What comfort could they even find, here? Numbness? That was too much like forgetting to Daniel's taste, and with every person that forgot Rachael she died a little more, and even if it hurt to treasure the memories he had of her, to try and hold on to shards of jagged glass as they slipped through his clenched fists, it was a pain that'd mean something. Pain that sprang from the absence of a good thing was probably the closest thing to a good thing left in his world, so he'd treasure the pain itself, if he had to.
For now, Daniel just started off into the distance. When Maxwell was ready to move on, or to stay and wallow a bit more, he'd be there.
What comfort could they even find, here? Numbness? That was too much like forgetting to Daniel's taste, and with every person that forgot Rachael she died a little more, and even if it hurt to treasure the memories he had of her, to try and hold on to shards of jagged glass as they slipped through his clenched fists, it was a pain that'd mean something. Pain that sprang from the absence of a good thing was probably the closest thing to a good thing left in his world, so he'd treasure the pain itself, if he had to.
For now, Daniel just started off into the distance. When Maxwell was ready to move on, or to stay and wallow a bit more, he'd be there.
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Wham Yubeesling
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Maxwell's head turned. Looked to the boy standing close to him.
"I-"
The first word juttered itself out of his throat. The rest stayed, unable to get through. He opened his mouth. They rearranged. Another forced its way through.
"Daniel."
Silence.
"Help me."
"I-"
The first word juttered itself out of his throat. The rest stayed, unable to get through. He opened his mouth. They rearranged. Another forced its way through.
"Daniel."
Silence.
"Help me."
((Continued))
The travel through the vast emptiness was isolating, even with a noose being tightened around all of them. The space they could call some sort of home compressing and squeezing inwards to force them closer together, or so the idea went. In truth, there was no one. Alone in the expanse of her thoughts, she was adrift from the rest. It was not an active choice, she did not choose to be isolated and alone. Her actions and decisions drove her towards that. But even that belied the truth of the matter.
Her steps did not belong to her, they were determined by circumstances beyond her control. An illusion of choice.
The scream caught her attention. If only because it was a sign of someone else's presence. The only person she had seen or interacted with other than Keiji had been Rachael, she couldn't remember how long ago that was.
Moving closer she saw two figures, one she had met before and one she had not.
He was one of the other boys from the chapel. He had been the one full of fear, now though he seemed calm. The scream—she assumed—came from the boy with red highlights. She knew him from before, he was a noticeable figure. She didn't know anything about him as a person but she was unsure if she would truly know anything about him. She would only learn things about the version of him that she saw in front of her. Broken, beaten and defeated.
She moved closer still. The two seemed wrapped up in their own moment, adrift from time.
That was why she spoke and shattered the glass that surrounded them.
"There's no way to help."
The travel through the vast emptiness was isolating, even with a noose being tightened around all of them. The space they could call some sort of home compressing and squeezing inwards to force them closer together, or so the idea went. In truth, there was no one. Alone in the expanse of her thoughts, she was adrift from the rest. It was not an active choice, she did not choose to be isolated and alone. Her actions and decisions drove her towards that. But even that belied the truth of the matter.
Her steps did not belong to her, they were determined by circumstances beyond her control. An illusion of choice.
The scream caught her attention. If only because it was a sign of someone else's presence. The only person she had seen or interacted with other than Keiji had been Rachael, she couldn't remember how long ago that was.
Moving closer she saw two figures, one she had met before and one she had not.
He was one of the other boys from the chapel. He had been the one full of fear, now though he seemed calm. The scream—she assumed—came from the boy with red highlights. She knew him from before, he was a noticeable figure. She didn't know anything about him as a person but she was unsure if she would truly know anything about him. She would only learn things about the version of him that she saw in front of her. Broken, beaten and defeated.
She moved closer still. The two seemed wrapped up in their own moment, adrift from time.
That was why she spoke and shattered the glass that surrounded them.
"There's no way to help."
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delicateMachine
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Wow, was it a lot easier to be confident in your choice when your choice was 'don't do anything for a while.' Daniel had been hoping to have a couple more quiet moments to like, figure out what they were going to do, because Maxwell probably wasn't gonna be in a state to lead them around, anymore - oh god, that was a selfish way to think about it, wasn't it? Horribly selfish. What was he doing, hoping that his friend's grief would operate on a timetable that was convenient for him? That turbo-sucked.
Daniel didn't know what exactly Maxwell was asking for, but he did know that he was sad and vulnerable, and he wasn't really the type of dude to be sad and vulnerable. And when your sad, vulnerable friend turned to you and asked for help, you didn't waste any time worrying about the details.
"Alright," Daniel nodded. "I'm here for you, dude." He wasn't strong, or confident, or really all that smart, but he was the one standing there, so he'd just have to do his best, wouldn't he?
Well, that was a nice little moment. A shame that as soon as Kris spoke up from behind the two, the sun turned black and the earth started to rise around them and Daniel was alone again, like he had never left the caves, but he was worse than alone this time, because Kris was there, and she didn't even look different. She didn't even look like she knew.
He saw nothing in her eyes. He heard none of the words she said. His fists clenched, painfully. His heart stopped, his breathing slowed. He took a step forward. Then another.
"Why?" he whispered to the statue in front of him. No response. He knew she'd heard him, because they were the only two things that existed in the world anymore, so how couldn't she have, right?
"Why'd you do it?" he screamed.
Daniel didn't know what exactly Maxwell was asking for, but he did know that he was sad and vulnerable, and he wasn't really the type of dude to be sad and vulnerable. And when your sad, vulnerable friend turned to you and asked for help, you didn't waste any time worrying about the details.
"Alright," Daniel nodded. "I'm here for you, dude." He wasn't strong, or confident, or really all that smart, but he was the one standing there, so he'd just have to do his best, wouldn't he?
Well, that was a nice little moment. A shame that as soon as Kris spoke up from behind the two, the sun turned black and the earth started to rise around them and Daniel was alone again, like he had never left the caves, but he was worse than alone this time, because Kris was there, and she didn't even look different. She didn't even look like she knew.
He saw nothing in her eyes. He heard none of the words she said. His fists clenched, painfully. His heart stopped, his breathing slowed. He took a step forward. Then another.
"Why?" he whispered to the statue in front of him. No response. He knew she'd heard him, because they were the only two things that existed in the world anymore, so how couldn't she have, right?
"Why'd you do it?" he screamed.
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MethodicalSlacker
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[Katie Gittschall continued from Retrograde.]
This was the field that someone fell asleep in, once. Katie recognized it, just vaguely, though the last time she had walked through its green wastes it had been nighttime. Following the depressions left in the flowers by footsteps, she came across the corpse of someone she vaguely recognized. Something about the whole thing looked sunken and hollowed out, like it had already been reclaimed by the earth. Did Seb's body look like this, now? How about Aaron's?
"I am the reaper," morosely mumbled Katie, "and I have come for your soul."
She paused, and waited for the laugh track. It did not come. Would it come if she stole the body's earrings? She could pretend to be desensitized, but she was feeling her breakfast coming up her throat already.
Katie moved away from Panya, wandering around the flowers for a little while. It made her feel better to be near nature, even if the flowers were a little too happy looking for their own sake. Out in the distance, she saw some people crowded around, standing over a big nothing. She thought about how to avoid them without being seen. It would be best to turn tail and just walk in the opposite direction, hope they didn't have any guns, and skitter out of sight.
Then, they started shrieking at each other.
She stood in place, and contemplated. What these people needed most was to be interrupted, clearly. How best could she force herself into this situation? She wanted to talk to somebody before she was eventually put down, even if nobody wanted to talk to her. There was a lot that she wanted to get off her chest.
For now, she'd just walk over and try to look not-that-dangerous. As she got closer, the situation got more clear. One of the boys turned and yelled at the girl, a couple paces away. Katie was approaching from the opposite direction, so their words were muffled, but—
"Why'd who do what, now?" Katie asked, her head tilted in confusion, her feet planted on the ground, her heart sliding down into her stomach.
Maybe she should have paid more attention to the announcements.
This was the field that someone fell asleep in, once. Katie recognized it, just vaguely, though the last time she had walked through its green wastes it had been nighttime. Following the depressions left in the flowers by footsteps, she came across the corpse of someone she vaguely recognized. Something about the whole thing looked sunken and hollowed out, like it had already been reclaimed by the earth. Did Seb's body look like this, now? How about Aaron's?
"I am the reaper," morosely mumbled Katie, "and I have come for your soul."
She paused, and waited for the laugh track. It did not come. Would it come if she stole the body's earrings? She could pretend to be desensitized, but she was feeling her breakfast coming up her throat already.
Katie moved away from Panya, wandering around the flowers for a little while. It made her feel better to be near nature, even if the flowers were a little too happy looking for their own sake. Out in the distance, she saw some people crowded around, standing over a big nothing. She thought about how to avoid them without being seen. It would be best to turn tail and just walk in the opposite direction, hope they didn't have any guns, and skitter out of sight.
Then, they started shrieking at each other.
She stood in place, and contemplated. What these people needed most was to be interrupted, clearly. How best could she force herself into this situation? She wanted to talk to somebody before she was eventually put down, even if nobody wanted to talk to her. There was a lot that she wanted to get off her chest.
For now, she'd just walk over and try to look not-that-dangerous. As she got closer, the situation got more clear. One of the boys turned and yelled at the girl, a couple paces away. Katie was approaching from the opposite direction, so their words were muffled, but—
"Why'd who do what, now?" Katie asked, her head tilted in confusion, her feet planted on the ground, her heart sliding down into her stomach.
Maybe she should have paid more attention to the announcements.
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Wham Yubeesling
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But help didn't appear. Daniel approached, Daniel tried, but it seemed as if this island — this game — did not wish for help to appear as
(of course help wouldn't appear)
(why did you think it would?)
(do you really think you deserve it?)
a third voice — one belonging to neither Daniel or him — emerged, made itself known in the conversation. It was a face he had seen, back at school. Not one he knew, not one he could name, but one that he at the very least had recognized from walking down the hallways all too long ago. Her sudden appearance, the words she said had stopped him. Paused him to the point where the words couldn't even jutter themselves out. Was it true? Could he not be helped? Was he going to be stuck here unable to think unable to do the things he needed to do because of all the things he had already done? The answer could be reached, his body could move, but it was stuck. Paralysed by words, unable to-
A fourth voice.
One not belonging to anyone here.
"Who-"
His body turned. Lurched. Saw the blue haired girl, acting so nonchalant even despite these six days.
Who was she?
How was she how she was?
It seemed that there was a level beyond silence.
It seemed as if there truly weren't any words for this situation.
(of course help wouldn't appear)
(why did you think it would?)
(do you really think you deserve it?)
a third voice — one belonging to neither Daniel or him — emerged, made itself known in the conversation. It was a face he had seen, back at school. Not one he knew, not one he could name, but one that he at the very least had recognized from walking down the hallways all too long ago. Her sudden appearance, the words she said had stopped him. Paused him to the point where the words couldn't even jutter themselves out. Was it true? Could he not be helped? Was he going to be stuck here unable to think unable to do the things he needed to do because of all the things he had already done? The answer could be reached, his body could move, but it was stuck. Paralysed by words, unable to-
A fourth voice.
One not belonging to anyone here.
"Who-"
His body turned. Lurched. Saw the blue haired girl, acting so nonchalant even despite these six days.
Who was she?
How was she how she was?
It seemed that there was a level beyond silence.
It seemed as if there truly weren't any words for this situation.
The single focus of his anger was her. It was surprising but not unexpected. Her decisions would have had an effect on someone, it was the butterfly effect and in a locale as small as the one they were in the flapping of the butterflies wings were magnified to the force of a hurricane. The anger did not catch her off guard. The person it came from however did. The boy had never struck her in their last encounter as anything special. She hadn't expected to see him again in any meaningful form. He hadn't been meaningful to her in the chapel. But now faced down by his hate-filled gaze she wondered if she had underestimated him.
His voice was a crack of thunder, adding to the storm around them. The wind whipped up, picking up stray debris as a storm battered the field, the earth cracked and split as deep black spires of rock rose up around them, the sun blotted out, turned into a ball of ink hanging in the sky a passive void that merely observed their actions. Or did everything stay the same? Did the field remain a field and the sky remain lit up by the sun? It was hard to say for they were without time or place.
Another question from another voice. A girl this time. She looked over at her, saw her but didn't acknowledge her before her vision returned to the boy in front of her.
"It was what she wanted."
His voice was a crack of thunder, adding to the storm around them. The wind whipped up, picking up stray debris as a storm battered the field, the earth cracked and split as deep black spires of rock rose up around them, the sun blotted out, turned into a ball of ink hanging in the sky a passive void that merely observed their actions. Or did everything stay the same? Did the field remain a field and the sky remain lit up by the sun? It was hard to say for they were without time or place.
Another question from another voice. A girl this time. She looked over at her, saw her but didn't acknowledge her before her vision returned to the boy in front of her.
"It was what she wanted."
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delicateMachine
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"That's all you've got to say for yourself?"
Voices from the outside battered at the walls of their arena, or maybe it was a prison, but either way they would find no satisfaction, because if Daniel looked away from Kris, that'd mean that there was something that was more important to him than his girlfriend's murderer standing in front of him making excuses, without a single hint of humanity on her face. That was reasonable to be upset by, right? That was supposed to distort the entire world, right?
"You're- you're trying to tell me that Rachael just gave up? There's no way she'd... no way she'd leave me alone like that," Daniel said, ignoring the fact that he gave up. Ignoring the fact that he was only alive by chance. Ignoring the fact that he's probably not the most important person in the world, even to her.
He was faltering. Time to give up on that approach without acknowledging that he was giving up. Time to stay mad, just so he didn't have to like, think or feel.
"Okay, you're lying, obviously lying, but what if she did? What if she did, huh? What sort of person just kills someone because she asked you to? You think it means it's not your fault? It's actually super easy not to kill people! You had to go out of your way to do it, and, and, you're just standing here, and trying to justify yourself! Why did you kill her, goddammit?"
Voices from the outside battered at the walls of their arena, or maybe it was a prison, but either way they would find no satisfaction, because if Daniel looked away from Kris, that'd mean that there was something that was more important to him than his girlfriend's murderer standing in front of him making excuses, without a single hint of humanity on her face. That was reasonable to be upset by, right? That was supposed to distort the entire world, right?
"You're- you're trying to tell me that Rachael just gave up? There's no way she'd... no way she'd leave me alone like that," Daniel said, ignoring the fact that he gave up. Ignoring the fact that he was only alive by chance. Ignoring the fact that he's probably not the most important person in the world, even to her.
He was faltering. Time to give up on that approach without acknowledging that he was giving up. Time to stay mad, just so he didn't have to like, think or feel.
"Okay, you're lying, obviously lying, but what if she did? What if she did, huh? What sort of person just kills someone because she asked you to? You think it means it's not your fault? It's actually super easy not to kill people! You had to go out of your way to do it, and, and, you're just standing here, and trying to justify yourself! Why did you kill her, goddammit?"
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MethodicalSlacker
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Her voice caught the attention of at least one of them, but she lost her own focus just moments after. It seemed that she had come at an inopportune time, but the little scraps of conversation (read: shouting match) that she managed to pick up were interesting enough to get her to stay. Something about someone named Rachel?
That wouldn't be the Rachael she knew, would it?
She could feel her face sink into a sullen state, but thought quick enough to pull herself out of it. Things were going on—very immediate things, right there, in front of her very own face—so now was not a good time to mourn. Katie felt like the right thing to do might be to insert herself in the middle of the fight before it turned into a brawl, but she was hesitant. After all, if this new girl was some kind of murderer, then she probably had a weapon on her.
Again, things were moving a bit fast. She returned the boy's glance.
"Hiya," she spake unto him. If she had some bubblegum or a cigarette, this is where she'd offer some. Extend that olive branch, right off the bat, if she felt like it. She made a small gesture at the altercation, held her gaze into Daniel's eyes, and said some more.
"Are they gonna be okay? They don't sound okay."
That wouldn't be the Rachael she knew, would it?
She could feel her face sink into a sullen state, but thought quick enough to pull herself out of it. Things were going on—very immediate things, right there, in front of her very own face—so now was not a good time to mourn. Katie felt like the right thing to do might be to insert herself in the middle of the fight before it turned into a brawl, but she was hesitant. After all, if this new girl was some kind of murderer, then she probably had a weapon on her.
Again, things were moving a bit fast. She returned the boy's glance.
"Hiya," she spake unto him. If she had some bubblegum or a cigarette, this is where she'd offer some. Extend that olive branch, right off the bat, if she felt like it. She made a small gesture at the altercation, held her gaze into Daniel's eyes, and said some more.
"Are they gonna be okay? They don't sound okay."
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Wham Yubeesling
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"I…"
He was sat in the field, kneeling on the ground. His arms were around, pulling, clutching his stomach, trying to make it so that the butterflies eating a pit through him would stop. Go away. Let him stand and let him talk and let him just get over everything. Let him just move past the fact that all his friends had died let him just move past the fact that he could only barely resist his own mind let him just get up. Talk. Do something for once. Do literally any of the things he had said he'd do, be literally any of the things he had said he'd be. Make it so that Paris' death, Paris' words actually meant something other than an unfulfilled promise. A conversation, an event just as fake as everything else Maxwell had done over these past six days.
But no matter how hard he wanted to try the butterflies wouldn't go away.
No matter how hard his mind pushed, he couldn't stand up.
And they talked. Without him. They were having their confrontation, their argument, and Maxwell was on the outs. Outside of the triangle. They talked, went on without him, but one noticed. One saw his state. The girl with the blue hair turned her head. Pointed. Made a remark, a jibe about his state, expecting the other two to join in.
Oh, how things had changed since they had stepped onto that bus.
Oh, how Maxwell could only wish he could laugh at the kneeling boy as well.
"I don't…"
Oh, how Maxwell wished that this could just be over already.
"I don't know."
He was sat in the field, kneeling on the ground. His arms were around, pulling, clutching his stomach, trying to make it so that the butterflies eating a pit through him would stop. Go away. Let him stand and let him talk and let him just get over everything. Let him just move past the fact that all his friends had died let him just move past the fact that he could only barely resist his own mind let him just get up. Talk. Do something for once. Do literally any of the things he had said he'd do, be literally any of the things he had said he'd be. Make it so that Paris' death, Paris' words actually meant something other than an unfulfilled promise. A conversation, an event just as fake as everything else Maxwell had done over these past six days.
But no matter how hard he wanted to try the butterflies wouldn't go away.
No matter how hard his mind pushed, he couldn't stand up.
And they talked. Without him. They were having their confrontation, their argument, and Maxwell was on the outs. Outside of the triangle. They talked, went on without him, but one noticed. One saw his state. The girl with the blue hair turned her head. Pointed. Made a remark, a jibe about his state, expecting the other two to join in.
Oh, how things had changed since they had stepped onto that bus.
Oh, how Maxwell could only wish he could laugh at the kneeling boy as well.
"I don't…"
Oh, how Maxwell wished that this could just be over already.
"I don't know."
The verbal assault was born of grief and anger, it warped and changed the conversation even as it happened. A tour of an emotional spectrum, the lights, and sounds of which had never been previously shown in such glorious hi-definition for people to witness and study. The technicolor revolution. She could see where they had come from, it looked different, like the ruins of a long-lost continent, an old world that upon their return would be different. They would exist merely as observers, no longer belonging.
He continued yelling and the wind ripped and tore at the buildings, tearing them down. His narrative warped and changed along with the conversation as he tried to make sense of his feelings. He chased them down and tried to piece together his emotions but they were too fragmented and scattered. She watched it happen in real time on his face, and anyone watching them would have been able to see it too. Every inch of the space between them was charged and ready. One abrupt movement and the explosion would have been great.
She watched him continue, her face passive and opaque. A blank canvas that he made good use of. He used her to fulfill his needs in those moments.
"It was the right thing to do."
He continued yelling and the wind ripped and tore at the buildings, tearing them down. His narrative warped and changed along with the conversation as he tried to make sense of his feelings. He chased them down and tried to piece together his emotions but they were too fragmented and scattered. She watched it happen in real time on his face, and anyone watching them would have been able to see it too. Every inch of the space between them was charged and ready. One abrupt movement and the explosion would have been great.
She watched him continue, her face passive and opaque. A blank canvas that he made good use of. He used her to fulfill his needs in those moments.
"It was the right thing to do."
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delicateMachine
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:26 pm
- Location: void
Nothing, nothing, nothing, there was nothing there. Kris's face was like a mirror, except not, because Daniel was feeling a whole bunch of emotions at once, and they were all the type of emotion that his dad would use for a motive in his books where like, the detective does the finger pointing thing but leaves a bit of room for the audience to pity the broken murderer who had so clearly been pushed from the edge, so like, that was what was currently going on with him, but Kris? It was like getting mad at a wall, or the soil in a cemetery, or the darkness creeping between supernovas, but it wasn't just blank, was it, it was actively antithetical to any kind of warmth or understanding, wasn't it?
He took another step, and now the only thing separating the two was the promise of how quickly things would go downhill for him if he tried to do anything, because he was furious in a way he thought he'd only ever experience by proxy but that didn't mean he knew how to punch someone, or that he wanted to punch someone, after all he wanted to shatter the opaque glass that was Kris's face but he wanted to let her do it, he wanted her to show that the burden of murder had changed a single goddamn thing for her.
"Okay, okay, it was the right thing to do? Alright, that makes everything better! Why wouldn't it? And, and, that means it'll be easy for you to repeat this, right? Just repeat after me, 'The world's a slightly better place because Rachael isn't in it anymore! There was nothing else I could've done! I'm still a good person!'"
He took another step, and now the only thing separating the two was the promise of how quickly things would go downhill for him if he tried to do anything, because he was furious in a way he thought he'd only ever experience by proxy but that didn't mean he knew how to punch someone, or that he wanted to punch someone, after all he wanted to shatter the opaque glass that was Kris's face but he wanted to let her do it, he wanted her to show that the burden of murder had changed a single goddamn thing for her.
"Okay, okay, it was the right thing to do? Alright, that makes everything better! Why wouldn't it? And, and, that means it'll be easy for you to repeat this, right? Just repeat after me, 'The world's a slightly better place because Rachael isn't in it anymore! There was nothing else I could've done! I'm still a good person!'"