Charlie was smiling, but Mina sure wasn't. As the other girl's expression rose, Mina's fell, her lips settling into their usual scowl. What was Charlie so happy about? That was an expression wholly unfamiliar to Mina, one that her mind couldn't even quite process as something Charlie would—or maybe even could—make. At least it seemed like the girl was not in fact about to die, though Mina tried to make herself reassess her feelings on that point. That old saying about no good deed hung heavy in the air, right there with the single word Charlie had uttered.
"I preferred the screaming," Mina said.
If the other girl wasn't going to take the knife, then Mina wasn't going to just stay here like a wobbly statue waiting on her, particularly not since Charlie seemed to want something that Mina was not at all sure she felt like providing. She laid the knife down on the ground, hilt still pointed towards Charlie, and shifted some more, pulling out the burn gel and antiseptic wipes and brushing some small screws to the side so she wouldn't stab her legs on them if she knelt wrong.
"This might sting," Mina said, tearing open the first package of burn gel, though she did not yet move to apply it. She closed her eyes and tried to recapture some sense of calm or stability or competent purpose, but even in the darkness behind her eyelids all she could see was that goddamn grin. She snapped her eyes back open and inched her hand and the gel closer to the girl.
"By the way," she said, "if we don't use all the wipes, can I have a couple to get cleaned up? Someone jacked my stuff."
It's Not Me, It's You
Phase 2 (13-24 Hours), Expecting company
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MurderWeasel
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Mina closed off, if she'd ever been open in the first place, which Charlie had her doubts about. Whatever reasons Mina had for helping her today, it wasn't because of what had happened at the start of the school year. Maybe it was informed by those events a little, but it wasn't the reason.
You covered for me at school, so I risked my life for you in a battle to the death?
No. As she'd said aloud. Bullshit.
Make no mistake, what Mina was doing was risking her life. Helping someone risked. Sticking here even through screams and noise risked. Giving Charlie her damn knife back, that was a risk too.
But if Mina wasn't going to admit it, then Charlie wasn't going to hound her about it. She'd made her opinion clear enough. If Mina wanted to stick with a story, then that was her own business.
Charlie just nodded. She'd had a rub from a wipe like that before, when she'd grazed her knees or been scratched running through trees and underbrush. It had stung then, for minor injuries. If the situation hadn't made it abundantly clear already, this wound was anything but minor.
She nodded again.
"Be my guest," a pause, as she considered both Mina and her own blood-splattered state. Dyne. Faye. Herself. Probably a lost cause to try and clean up at this point.
A remark passed through her head that even though Mina had already flashed the entire nation she didn't have to keep on doing it, but Charlie let it lie.
"You're going to get cold. Temperature's a survival condition too."
Did she sound clipped? Formal? Probably. She wasn't sure if the amusement from the smirk carried through to her tone.
You covered for me at school, so I risked my life for you in a battle to the death?
No. As she'd said aloud. Bullshit.
Make no mistake, what Mina was doing was risking her life. Helping someone risked. Sticking here even through screams and noise risked. Giving Charlie her damn knife back, that was a risk too.
But if Mina wasn't going to admit it, then Charlie wasn't going to hound her about it. She'd made her opinion clear enough. If Mina wanted to stick with a story, then that was her own business.
Charlie just nodded. She'd had a rub from a wipe like that before, when she'd grazed her knees or been scratched running through trees and underbrush. It had stung then, for minor injuries. If the situation hadn't made it abundantly clear already, this wound was anything but minor.
She nodded again.
"Be my guest," a pause, as she considered both Mina and her own blood-splattered state. Dyne. Faye. Herself. Probably a lost cause to try and clean up at this point.
A remark passed through her head that even though Mina had already flashed the entire nation she didn't have to keep on doing it, but Charlie let it lie.
"You're going to get cold. Temperature's a survival condition too."
Did she sound clipped? Formal? Probably. She wasn't sure if the amusement from the smirk carried through to her tone.
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MurderWeasel
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Charlie's expression remained, but the girl didn't push the issue. Mina hadn't decided if that was better or worse. On the one hand, it meant she didn't have to unpack what she emphatically did not want to. On the other, letting the topic drop resolved nothing; Charlie remained unconvinced, Mina remained aware of that, and it could all bubble up again later.
Where had that last thought come from? Who said Mina would be anywhere near Charlie later?
At least the pause had given Mina the chance to realize one thing she was doing wrong: it made absolutely no sense to first smear burn ointment all over Charlie and then try to disinfect her injuries afterwards. She didn't exactly want to set the open package on the ground and risk getting dust in it, and certainly didn't want to put it in her mouth and end up eating the gel, so she tucked it into her bra. The edges of the plastic prickled against her skin, and again she thought condom package but pushed the idea from her mind. Letting Charlie's warning about the temperature occupy her focus, she opened up a wipe and got to work.
"I do still have a shirt," Mina commented, as she wiped at the blood and burned flesh as gently yet thoroughly as she could. Talking helped her distance herself from what she was doing, even as her hands moved carefully, trying to avoid causing unneeded pain. She jerked her head towards the pile of cloth that was her army shirt, which she remembered suddenly covered her hook and contained her recorder. Funny, she'd documented every encounter so far, except for the one nobody would ever believe. "I was going to tear up my tank top for bandages, but I'm giving that up. I just want to get cleaned up before I get dressed so I don't spend the rest of my life disgusting."
She let the first antiseptic wipe fall to the floor, opened the next, and got to work on the other side of Charlie. When it looked good enough—a loose concept given the dark and Mina's lack of expertise, but one she was willing to accept for the moment—she dropped that wipe too. It was discolored with the blood and grime it had picked up, streaked rusty brownish red. Mina fished the package of burn gel back out of her bra, realized she could've just asked her patient to hold it, and was grateful for once for the dim conditions. Hopefully, Charlie wouldn't see her flush as she started to apply the ointment.
Where had that last thought come from? Who said Mina would be anywhere near Charlie later?
At least the pause had given Mina the chance to realize one thing she was doing wrong: it made absolutely no sense to first smear burn ointment all over Charlie and then try to disinfect her injuries afterwards. She didn't exactly want to set the open package on the ground and risk getting dust in it, and certainly didn't want to put it in her mouth and end up eating the gel, so she tucked it into her bra. The edges of the plastic prickled against her skin, and again she thought condom package but pushed the idea from her mind. Letting Charlie's warning about the temperature occupy her focus, she opened up a wipe and got to work.
"I do still have a shirt," Mina commented, as she wiped at the blood and burned flesh as gently yet thoroughly as she could. Talking helped her distance herself from what she was doing, even as her hands moved carefully, trying to avoid causing unneeded pain. She jerked her head towards the pile of cloth that was her army shirt, which she remembered suddenly covered her hook and contained her recorder. Funny, she'd documented every encounter so far, except for the one nobody would ever believe. "I was going to tear up my tank top for bandages, but I'm giving that up. I just want to get cleaned up before I get dressed so I don't spend the rest of my life disgusting."
She let the first antiseptic wipe fall to the floor, opened the next, and got to work on the other side of Charlie. When it looked good enough—a loose concept given the dark and Mina's lack of expertise, but one she was willing to accept for the moment—she dropped that wipe too. It was discolored with the blood and grime it had picked up, streaked rusty brownish red. Mina fished the package of burn gel back out of her bra, realized she could've just asked her patient to hold it, and was grateful for once for the dim conditions. Hopefully, Charlie wouldn't see her flush as she started to apply the ointment.
Charlie gritted her teeth with a quiet hiss as Mina moved on to the wipes. A stinging sensation swept across the wound, mingling with the hard flaring pain of the burn. A wonderful little agony cocktail that once again had bile in the back of her throat. If it wasn't for the initial injury from the bolt, then the subsequent moving around with it inside her, then pulling it out, then cauterizing it, then this would have been one of the worst pains she'd experienced.
Her frame of reference for that was quickly expanding.
Inside it still hurt, and Charlie wasn't sure if it was worse or just different from when the bolt was still embedded inside her gut. Just because it hadn't hit anything vital didn't mean that she hadn't been pierced through internally, nor that she could just close the wound and be done with it. Was it still bleeding inside? What if there was something that couldn't be fixed from the outside?
Charlie didn't know. She didn't know enough about first aid and medicine and all the rest of it to know. She just had to hope.
Through the slight light-headedness which she assumed was from the bloodloss, Charlie realised that at some stage before this point—maybe around when she'd actually started talking to Mina—she'd started thinking about what next instead of just not dying now. Back to gameplans.
Sort of.
Because Mina was the confounding factor. Could Charlie have done this alone? No, she couldn't have done. Even if she'd managed to get the bolt clear, she couldn't imagine gutting through all the rest of it, including the cauterising it, without some kind of help.
Before just now, Charlie would never had even considered Mina would trust her.
But here she was. Trusting her.
Charlie shrugged just slightly at the response. "Sooner the better. It's not getting any warmer."
Her eyes tracked for a second, out of instinct, where Mina was going with her own hands, and then she quickly looked away.
Plus, Charlie would feel a little less awkward. She wasn't sure when that had started mattering.
She looked back one more time.
"..."
No, she could say it.
"Mina."
This was stupid pride, this shouldn't be so hard.
"I—" She stopped short.
Come on. It was one word. Stop complicating things.
The fight in the hallway played through her head. Charlie bit down hard on the indignant feeling that rose up in her chest at the memory.
"Thank you."
Her frame of reference for that was quickly expanding.
Inside it still hurt, and Charlie wasn't sure if it was worse or just different from when the bolt was still embedded inside her gut. Just because it hadn't hit anything vital didn't mean that she hadn't been pierced through internally, nor that she could just close the wound and be done with it. Was it still bleeding inside? What if there was something that couldn't be fixed from the outside?
Charlie didn't know. She didn't know enough about first aid and medicine and all the rest of it to know. She just had to hope.
Through the slight light-headedness which she assumed was from the bloodloss, Charlie realised that at some stage before this point—maybe around when she'd actually started talking to Mina—she'd started thinking about what next instead of just not dying now. Back to gameplans.
Sort of.
Because Mina was the confounding factor. Could Charlie have done this alone? No, she couldn't have done. Even if she'd managed to get the bolt clear, she couldn't imagine gutting through all the rest of it, including the cauterising it, without some kind of help.
Before just now, Charlie would never had even considered Mina would trust her.
But here she was. Trusting her.
Charlie shrugged just slightly at the response. "Sooner the better. It's not getting any warmer."
Her eyes tracked for a second, out of instinct, where Mina was going with her own hands, and then she quickly looked away.
Plus, Charlie would feel a little less awkward. She wasn't sure when that had started mattering.
She looked back one more time.
"..."
No, she could say it.
"Mina."
This was stupid pride, this shouldn't be so hard.
"I—" She stopped short.
Come on. It was one word. Stop complicating things.
The fight in the hallway played through her head. Charlie bit down hard on the indignant feeling that rose up in her chest at the memory.
"Thank you."
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MurderWeasel
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The frown remained on Mina's face, but it lightened, just a tiny bit and involuntarily.
"It's fine," she said. "It's nothing. You'd do the same."
Was that even a little bit true? Mina had her doubts. Charlie had, after all, killed somebody, though Mina couldn't quite recall who. Maybe she'd go back through the Announcement and check. Charlie's name was the one that had stuck with her, so it hadn't been anyone Mina was super close to. The recollection raised some other questions too. Was it during that fight that Charlie had sustained her injury? Mina doubted that was the case; Charlie's name had come before a good number of others, and the announcement had been some time ago now. She didn't think Charlie had been running around impaled for half a day.
The burn gel was slimy and slick against Mina's hands, an unpleasant goopy mess that she slathered across the burns she had inflicted. It was not an artful application, but it probably didn't have to be. She figured this was the sort of situation where the more gel she used, the better the end result would be, and if she was wrong the odds were good neither of them would live to figure it out anyways. However much the situation seemed to be getting better now, it was important to remind herself of that, vital not to get her hopes up. Someone had run Charlie through with an arrow, and that was probably not the worst thing that would happen to either of them, unless Mina had messed this all up after all and it did end up killing the other girl.
And just why had someone shot Charlie? Mina could think of a few possibilities, and decided that she would cut herself this one break and allow herself to be happiest in ignorance. It didn't matter. It was done, in the past.
She'd gone through a second packet of burn gel now, and her hands felt disgusting but at least some of the blood was coming off. On the other hand, it was exacerbating the chill, which Charlie had brought up again and which Mina was definitely going to do something about just as soon as she was cleaned up and done with this slightly more important task, and never mind the goosebumps rising on her arms and back and chest. She dug through the supplies, found bandages that looked about right, and got to work applying them, first large pads to absorb any seepage and keep the injuries protected and clear, then gauze which she ended up wrapping around Charlie's entire midriff again and again for lack of any obvious anchor points, though it meant getting close and awkwardly navigating around the other girl once more.
"I think you're almost set," Mina said, pausing to examine her handiwork. In the dark it looked mostly okay. "Good as new."
"It's fine," she said. "It's nothing. You'd do the same."
Was that even a little bit true? Mina had her doubts. Charlie had, after all, killed somebody, though Mina couldn't quite recall who. Maybe she'd go back through the Announcement and check. Charlie's name was the one that had stuck with her, so it hadn't been anyone Mina was super close to. The recollection raised some other questions too. Was it during that fight that Charlie had sustained her injury? Mina doubted that was the case; Charlie's name had come before a good number of others, and the announcement had been some time ago now. She didn't think Charlie had been running around impaled for half a day.
The burn gel was slimy and slick against Mina's hands, an unpleasant goopy mess that she slathered across the burns she had inflicted. It was not an artful application, but it probably didn't have to be. She figured this was the sort of situation where the more gel she used, the better the end result would be, and if she was wrong the odds were good neither of them would live to figure it out anyways. However much the situation seemed to be getting better now, it was important to remind herself of that, vital not to get her hopes up. Someone had run Charlie through with an arrow, and that was probably not the worst thing that would happen to either of them, unless Mina had messed this all up after all and it did end up killing the other girl.
And just why had someone shot Charlie? Mina could think of a few possibilities, and decided that she would cut herself this one break and allow herself to be happiest in ignorance. It didn't matter. It was done, in the past.
She'd gone through a second packet of burn gel now, and her hands felt disgusting but at least some of the blood was coming off. On the other hand, it was exacerbating the chill, which Charlie had brought up again and which Mina was definitely going to do something about just as soon as she was cleaned up and done with this slightly more important task, and never mind the goosebumps rising on her arms and back and chest. She dug through the supplies, found bandages that looked about right, and got to work applying them, first large pads to absorb any seepage and keep the injuries protected and clear, then gauze which she ended up wrapping around Charlie's entire midriff again and again for lack of any obvious anchor points, though it meant getting close and awkwardly navigating around the other girl once more.
"I think you're almost set," Mina said, pausing to examine her handiwork. In the dark it looked mostly okay. "Good as new."
Would she?
The image played through Charlie's head of Mina stumbling across her hiding place, wounded and bleeding, springing to her aid, treating those injuries and asking nothing in return. Ignoring that Mina was armed and she was not.
Would she?
Dyne was a reaction, but intended. Faye was calculated, a preemptive strike.
The fresh pressure against the wounds as Mina applied the burn gel sent more nausea through Charlie's whole system. Cauterized or no, all it would take was a push in the right place and the holes would reopen in an instant.
Charlie tried to concentrate on her breathing, on her composure, willing herself to believe that the worst of it was over, but knowing that 'the worst' was only the worst of this immediate treatment, that there was much more Program to come. Because ultimately, she wouldn't be in this position if not for Program, and the Program position wasn't going to change after this.
Mina moved to apply some bandaging in a fashion which seemed about right, and Charlie had to force herself to stay upright and not just lean onto Mina as she reached around her back. After all this, she needed a rest. Severely.
Mina moved back slightly, and Charlie nodded.
"What next?" she looked Mina in the eye. "What happens now?"
The image played through Charlie's head of Mina stumbling across her hiding place, wounded and bleeding, springing to her aid, treating those injuries and asking nothing in return. Ignoring that Mina was armed and she was not.
Would she?
Dyne was a reaction, but intended. Faye was calculated, a preemptive strike.
The fresh pressure against the wounds as Mina applied the burn gel sent more nausea through Charlie's whole system. Cauterized or no, all it would take was a push in the right place and the holes would reopen in an instant.
Charlie tried to concentrate on her breathing, on her composure, willing herself to believe that the worst of it was over, but knowing that 'the worst' was only the worst of this immediate treatment, that there was much more Program to come. Because ultimately, she wouldn't be in this position if not for Program, and the Program position wasn't going to change after this.
Mina moved to apply some bandaging in a fashion which seemed about right, and Charlie had to force herself to stay upright and not just lean onto Mina as she reached around her back. After all this, she needed a rest. Severely.
Mina moved back slightly, and Charlie nodded.
"What next?" she looked Mina in the eye. "What happens now?"
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MurderWeasel
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"I get cleaned up," Mina said "and put my shirt back on."
She secured the gauze, wrapping and tying it under itself, nice and secure, then picked up her tank top again and used it to wipe her hands, removing as much of the caked blood and slippery gel as she could. That done, she helped herself to another of the wipes from Charlie's first aid kit, ripped the package open, and got to work scrubbing at the rest of the blood splattered over her. This had the added benefit of giving her a vaguely legitimate thing to focus on besides keeping eye contact with Charlie.
Mina was dodging the question again, of course, answering on a literal level but ignoring the meaning underlying it. She was pretty sure she wasn't just doing so to force Charlie to be more direct out of habit, either. Really, Mina needed a little more time to find a proper answer. What came now? What would she do, and how would Charlie factor into it, if at all? She wasn't sure. This was not a situation she had ever imagined finding herself in.
The wipe was damp and chilly, and the blood was dry enough that it took some scrubbing to clear. Mina's shoulder, stomach, and chest were all liberally coated, and that was just what she could see glancing down. She worked her way from the bottom up, scrunching a corner of the wipe into her belly button just in case some blood had managed to pool there.
"My weapon's a voice recorder," she said as she worked. "I recorded the announcement. I can play it for you if you want."
Knowing Charlie, she had probably taken notes or invented some mnemonic to memorize every name listed anyways, but it didn't hurt to offer. If nothing else, it'd give the girl something to consider while Mina worked. Her stomach looked, if not clean, at least partway there. Her shoulder and upper chest came next. Had she been alone, she would've probably just slipped her bra off to be sure nothing had worked its way under, but this was awkward enough even if it wouldn't be anything new to Charlie or anyone watching after what she'd pulled in the auditorium. She made do with sliding a relatively clean section of the wipe under the top of the cup, and it came out about as clean as it'd gone in, so she decided to just assume she was passably blood-free there.
"I also have this hook I pulled off a wall," she said, dropping the wipe on the ground and opening another. A few moments later, once she was more or less clean, she flipped it over and slid it over the scrape on her knee, wincing at the antiseptic sting and then feeling stupid for it. She really had nothing to complain about when it came to injuries. "Could you pass me my shirt?"
She secured the gauze, wrapping and tying it under itself, nice and secure, then picked up her tank top again and used it to wipe her hands, removing as much of the caked blood and slippery gel as she could. That done, she helped herself to another of the wipes from Charlie's first aid kit, ripped the package open, and got to work scrubbing at the rest of the blood splattered over her. This had the added benefit of giving her a vaguely legitimate thing to focus on besides keeping eye contact with Charlie.
Mina was dodging the question again, of course, answering on a literal level but ignoring the meaning underlying it. She was pretty sure she wasn't just doing so to force Charlie to be more direct out of habit, either. Really, Mina needed a little more time to find a proper answer. What came now? What would she do, and how would Charlie factor into it, if at all? She wasn't sure. This was not a situation she had ever imagined finding herself in.
The wipe was damp and chilly, and the blood was dry enough that it took some scrubbing to clear. Mina's shoulder, stomach, and chest were all liberally coated, and that was just what she could see glancing down. She worked her way from the bottom up, scrunching a corner of the wipe into her belly button just in case some blood had managed to pool there.
"My weapon's a voice recorder," she said as she worked. "I recorded the announcement. I can play it for you if you want."
Knowing Charlie, she had probably taken notes or invented some mnemonic to memorize every name listed anyways, but it didn't hurt to offer. If nothing else, it'd give the girl something to consider while Mina worked. Her stomach looked, if not clean, at least partway there. Her shoulder and upper chest came next. Had she been alone, she would've probably just slipped her bra off to be sure nothing had worked its way under, but this was awkward enough even if it wouldn't be anything new to Charlie or anyone watching after what she'd pulled in the auditorium. She made do with sliding a relatively clean section of the wipe under the top of the cup, and it came out about as clean as it'd gone in, so she decided to just assume she was passably blood-free there.
"I also have this hook I pulled off a wall," she said, dropping the wipe on the ground and opening another. A few moments later, once she was more or less clean, she flipped it over and slid it over the scrape on her knee, wincing at the antiseptic sting and then feeling stupid for it. She really had nothing to complain about when it came to injuries. "Could you pass me my shirt?"
Charlie was getting tired of this dancing around the subject. Seemed that some things never changed.
The frustration was two pronged, one part that this really wasn't the time or place to skirt past the truth. Logic and reason were paramount on the battlefield, and this was certainly a battlefield. Playing coy about her rationale for helping Charlie was one thing, but Mina actively avoiding the planning elements was quite another.
If Mina hadn't just patched up two literal holes in her torso, Charlie might have considered that it was showing some healthy suspicion, but at this stage that seemed pretty redundant. If Mina didn't trust her, she was doing a damn awful job of acting on that mistrust.
The facts, and the other prong of the frustration, were that, at least temporarily, there was an 'us'. Mina refusing to acknowledge that put 'us' in jeopardy. The information was useful, but non-urgent.
Charlie listened, handing Mina the shirt when it was requested.
Then she picked up the knife, looked down at it for a second. Leaning down sent another crunch of pain through her abdomen.
"I've killed two people, Mina," saying it was easier than she thought. Perhaps it was because Mina already knew about one of them. "You sure you're all right with that?"
Down at the knife again. "Chances are nobody else is going to trust me. Might be shoot on sight."
The frustration was two pronged, one part that this really wasn't the time or place to skirt past the truth. Logic and reason were paramount on the battlefield, and this was certainly a battlefield. Playing coy about her rationale for helping Charlie was one thing, but Mina actively avoiding the planning elements was quite another.
If Mina hadn't just patched up two literal holes in her torso, Charlie might have considered that it was showing some healthy suspicion, but at this stage that seemed pretty redundant. If Mina didn't trust her, she was doing a damn awful job of acting on that mistrust.
The facts, and the other prong of the frustration, were that, at least temporarily, there was an 'us'. Mina refusing to acknowledge that put 'us' in jeopardy. The information was useful, but non-urgent.
Charlie listened, handing Mina the shirt when it was requested.
Then she picked up the knife, looked down at it for a second. Leaning down sent another crunch of pain through her abdomen.
"I've killed two people, Mina," saying it was easier than she thought. Perhaps it was because Mina already knew about one of them. "You sure you're all right with that?"
Down at the knife again. "Chances are nobody else is going to trust me. Might be shoot on sight."
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MurderWeasel
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Mina pulled her army shirt back on. It was not as soft as her tank top had been, but at least it was vaguely comfortable. As Charlie picked up the knife, Mina started working on the buttons, top to bottom like she always did, and as she did so she realized that this would restrict access to the inner pocket where she held the voice recorder. She'd either have to abandon modesty and subtlety every time she wanted to start a recording or play something back, or else move the device to one of the shirt's outer pockets.
It was probably not good that one of the big reasons she was leaning towards the latter option was so that whoever inevitably searched her corpse would be more likely to find the recorder. Actually, not suffering the indignity of being posthumously stripped for a thorough examination was another good incentive. Mina was generally alright with having flashed most of the nation, like there was probably a good point to be made about how people would be more shocked at seeing her nipples than her skull getting smashed in, but the thought of her corpse lying around half-naked, slowly getting more and more infested by bugs and picked over by rats and birds, was upsetting. It seemed different, somehow, more horrible and invasive for her body to be revealed when she was dead. Maybe it was because it wouldn't be by her choice.
This was a good distraction from what Charlie was saying. Mina couldn't run forever, though, not anymore.
It still felt wrong hearing her first name slip through Charlie's lips.
Two people, huh? Mina really hoped the second was just as forgettable to her as the first had been. The possibilities were less troubling than the rest, though. Charlie was asking if Mina was okay with her killings. She was providing warnings and tactics, and the reason was clear. These were thoughts about travelling together.
When had anyone said anything about sticking together? Mina was pretty sure she had avoided that topic at every turn, but in doing so she had apparently allowed it to become an assumption. What could she say now? "Sorry, actually I'm not okay with that at all, good luck not dying?" That definitely held a real appeal. After all, sticking with Charlie meant accepting further responsibility for the girl, or implying acceptance of her killings, or... something. It meant something Mina was not at all sure she was okay with meaning, but she'd backed herself into a corner and also Charlie had food and water and Mina didn't. That was an acceptable reason to keep this going, at least for a little while, right?
"Yeah," Mina said. Her frown deepened again. "I'm sure."
Lying was supposed to be easier than this. Otherwise, what was the point of doing it all the time?
It was probably not good that one of the big reasons she was leaning towards the latter option was so that whoever inevitably searched her corpse would be more likely to find the recorder. Actually, not suffering the indignity of being posthumously stripped for a thorough examination was another good incentive. Mina was generally alright with having flashed most of the nation, like there was probably a good point to be made about how people would be more shocked at seeing her nipples than her skull getting smashed in, but the thought of her corpse lying around half-naked, slowly getting more and more infested by bugs and picked over by rats and birds, was upsetting. It seemed different, somehow, more horrible and invasive for her body to be revealed when she was dead. Maybe it was because it wouldn't be by her choice.
This was a good distraction from what Charlie was saying. Mina couldn't run forever, though, not anymore.
It still felt wrong hearing her first name slip through Charlie's lips.
Two people, huh? Mina really hoped the second was just as forgettable to her as the first had been. The possibilities were less troubling than the rest, though. Charlie was asking if Mina was okay with her killings. She was providing warnings and tactics, and the reason was clear. These were thoughts about travelling together.
When had anyone said anything about sticking together? Mina was pretty sure she had avoided that topic at every turn, but in doing so she had apparently allowed it to become an assumption. What could she say now? "Sorry, actually I'm not okay with that at all, good luck not dying?" That definitely held a real appeal. After all, sticking with Charlie meant accepting further responsibility for the girl, or implying acceptance of her killings, or... something. It meant something Mina was not at all sure she was okay with meaning, but she'd backed herself into a corner and also Charlie had food and water and Mina didn't. That was an acceptable reason to keep this going, at least for a little while, right?
"Yeah," Mina said. Her frown deepened again. "I'm sure."
Lying was supposed to be easier than this. Otherwise, what was the point of doing it all the time?
Charlie studied Mina closely as she replied, but didn't pry; not verbally, at least.
She liked to think that she was observant enough to know from past experience what Mina was like when it came to topics she didn't want to talk about, and even if she wasn't, Charlie only needed the evidence from the rest of this very conversation.
"All right," was what she said out loud, putting the knife away.
"We should move. I made noise and this isn't the best place to sleep regardless."
She liked to think that she was observant enough to know from past experience what Mina was like when it came to topics she didn't want to talk about, and even if she wasn't, Charlie only needed the evidence from the rest of this very conversation.
"All right," was what she said out loud, putting the knife away.
"We should move. I made noise and this isn't the best place to sleep regardless."
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
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- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
"Yeah," Mina said, "that makes sense. I dropped nails and shit everywhere so be careful where you step."
That was totally pointless to vocalize because Charlie had been right here when Mina fumbled the box's contents, but it felt like a conversational necessity. It progressed them past that moment of tension, and it indicated an acceptance of the terms. They were travelling together, then; it was settled. They were looking for a place to rest, moreover. That was something Mina could get behind. She might not exactly be tired, or at least not to the degree that it could outweigh the nerves and edginess that would probably ensure she never slept again as long as she lived, but being exhausted and miserable somewhere more comfortable than this dusty, smelly shed sounded slightly less horrible than their present situation.
"Whitman was hanging around the mansions, and I don't think we want to find him again."
There was honestly a little appeal in the idea of a reunion, actually, now that fate had tossed Mina and Charlie together. This vindictive part of Mina said that Charlie really would eat Whitman for breakfast, and especially with some help, and the fear and pain the boy had put Mina through wasn't something she was willing to brush away or forgive. Another part of her, however, said that she had proven herself somewhat less than a match for him in direct physical confrontation, and Charlie was injured, and besides, hadn't the point of her taunt been that Whitman was playing stupid, that he was a problem that would take care of itself inevitably and in fairly short order? So best to let him be, to not invite more trouble when they were already neck-deep.
"Around the docks it's small and a little dirty but with a lot of places to lay low. We can also play it by ear."
She toyed with the idea of suggesting a return to the market, but a reunion with Kassandra and Marion could become complicated in a hurry, especially depending on just who exactly Charlie had killed.
...Charlie could've killed one of the girls, Mina realized, and immediately wished she hadn't. Charlie could've killed KeKe. Mina sort of would have a problem with it if that had happened, but it was way too late to go, "Actually, just making sure, you didn't stab anyone I liked too terribly much, did you?" When the announcements played they'd figure it out, and Mina would do what she had to, which if she was honest with herself wasn't likely to amount to all that much no matter the circumstances.
This was altogether too much thinking and not enough getting going. Mina scooted her way over to her hook and tucked it into one of the outer pockets of her shirt, then stood up, flexing her toes. Her legs had started to cramp and tingle while she squatted, that insidious stiffness that didn't make itself known until the time came to move. To buy a little time to recover her mobility, she added, "We should be careful leaving. No telling who's waiting right outside."
That was totally pointless to vocalize because Charlie had been right here when Mina fumbled the box's contents, but it felt like a conversational necessity. It progressed them past that moment of tension, and it indicated an acceptance of the terms. They were travelling together, then; it was settled. They were looking for a place to rest, moreover. That was something Mina could get behind. She might not exactly be tired, or at least not to the degree that it could outweigh the nerves and edginess that would probably ensure she never slept again as long as she lived, but being exhausted and miserable somewhere more comfortable than this dusty, smelly shed sounded slightly less horrible than their present situation.
"Whitman was hanging around the mansions, and I don't think we want to find him again."
There was honestly a little appeal in the idea of a reunion, actually, now that fate had tossed Mina and Charlie together. This vindictive part of Mina said that Charlie really would eat Whitman for breakfast, and especially with some help, and the fear and pain the boy had put Mina through wasn't something she was willing to brush away or forgive. Another part of her, however, said that she had proven herself somewhat less than a match for him in direct physical confrontation, and Charlie was injured, and besides, hadn't the point of her taunt been that Whitman was playing stupid, that he was a problem that would take care of itself inevitably and in fairly short order? So best to let him be, to not invite more trouble when they were already neck-deep.
"Around the docks it's small and a little dirty but with a lot of places to lay low. We can also play it by ear."
She toyed with the idea of suggesting a return to the market, but a reunion with Kassandra and Marion could become complicated in a hurry, especially depending on just who exactly Charlie had killed.
...Charlie could've killed one of the girls, Mina realized, and immediately wished she hadn't. Charlie could've killed KeKe. Mina sort of would have a problem with it if that had happened, but it was way too late to go, "Actually, just making sure, you didn't stab anyone I liked too terribly much, did you?" When the announcements played they'd figure it out, and Mina would do what she had to, which if she was honest with herself wasn't likely to amount to all that much no matter the circumstances.
This was altogether too much thinking and not enough getting going. Mina scooted her way over to her hook and tucked it into one of the outer pockets of her shirt, then stood up, flexing her toes. Her legs had started to cramp and tingle while she squatted, that insidious stiffness that didn't make itself known until the time came to move. To buy a little time to recover her mobility, she added, "We should be careful leaving. No telling who's waiting right outside."
Although Charlie's aching back (but how nice it was to be able to recollect she had a crick in her back, registering that there was some pain and discomfort beyond that which had been torn through her abdomen) protested about the idea of lying low somewhere that could well not have much in the way of luxury, the smart strategic play was to avoid somebody like Whitman.
i.e. somebody who apparently was doing pretty much what Charlie had been so far.
She nodded slightly.
Was it someone Mina liked?
It occurred to Charlie, after the kneejerk internal reaction of 'does Mina like anyone?', that she had no idea. The realisation was heavy. How well did Charlie know Faye? Or anyone?
She was already struggling to put much beyond 'that girl I stabbed to death'. All the rest, the partying, the fact she was in theatre, did she play an instrument too? Charlie thought she might. Might have done. Past tense.
That's what was hard to move aside. The past tense. She wasn't any of those things any longer.
"It was Faye."
Saying it tasted like dirt, in spite of the fact Charlie had admitted it to herself many times over, thought about it just as many. What had happened left little leeway for creative freedom in interpretation. For some reason, that didn't make much difference.
There were a few dozen ways Charlie could self-analyse and dissect why that was, and there was no time for any of it. Not now, and perhaps not ever. Guilt was too low in importance right now. Focus, remember? What was important was maintaining her focus, along with dealing with the new situation which was having an ally.
That'd been Dyne too, in theory, but Mina had bought herself much more credit by actively helping her out when she hadn't needed to.
Charlie cracked the door to the shed, waited a beat, pushed it open, ducking to the side, clenching her jaw at the tug at the burns across her stomach.
i.e. somebody who apparently was doing pretty much what Charlie had been so far.
She nodded slightly.
Was it someone Mina liked?
It occurred to Charlie, after the kneejerk internal reaction of 'does Mina like anyone?', that she had no idea. The realisation was heavy. How well did Charlie know Faye? Or anyone?
She was already struggling to put much beyond 'that girl I stabbed to death'. All the rest, the partying, the fact she was in theatre, did she play an instrument too? Charlie thought she might. Might have done. Past tense.
That's what was hard to move aside. The past tense. She wasn't any of those things any longer.
"It was Faye."
Saying it tasted like dirt, in spite of the fact Charlie had admitted it to herself many times over, thought about it just as many. What had happened left little leeway for creative freedom in interpretation. For some reason, that didn't make much difference.
There were a few dozen ways Charlie could self-analyse and dissect why that was, and there was no time for any of it. Not now, and perhaps not ever. Guilt was too low in importance right now. Focus, remember? What was important was maintaining her focus, along with dealing with the new situation which was having an ally.
That'd been Dyne too, in theory, but Mina had bought herself much more credit by actively helping her out when she hadn't needed to.
Charlie cracked the door to the shed, waited a beat, pushed it open, ducking to the side, clenching her jaw at the tug at the burns across her stomach.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
"Oh," Mina said, "alright."
What else could she say? Was her relief palpable in her tone? She hoped not. It seemed really horrible and disrespectful, but Faye wasn't someone whose death crushed Mina, or even really meant a ton to her. She'd seen the girl around at parties, of course, but that was true of much of the class. Faye had been popular and nice in this broad, inoffensive, boring sort of way, and she didn't hold her alcohol very well, and that was what Mina knew. If they'd never been chosen and Faye had been run over by a bus and somehow Mina hadn't been directly told, she could not honestly say she would've noticed the girl's absence.
So, yeah, she was glad it was Faye.
Had Faye deserved it? Had she shot Charlie in an aggressive action, then been killed before she could reload? Mina sort of thought maybe she'd heard Faye's name before, like perhaps the girl had killed someone. So there was a chance Charlie had been in the right, and that was good enough; Mina decided she didn't actually really care that much to know if she was wrong in her construction of a narrative absolving Charlie of blame. She'd of course be on guard for any betrayals, but she'd already given Charlie every opportunity to suddenly stab her to death and couldn't really see what the other girl would get from delaying such an action.
Charlie opened the door and waited a moment, still in cover. Nothing happened. Mina moved to stand behind her, treading carefully around the hazards, listening but hearing only the faint ambient sounds of insects and wind. No gunshots came, nobody jumped out, and while some assailant could be waiting to ambush anyone who stepped further from cover it wasn't like Mina and Charlie had any other routes they could take. They'd either be waiting here until morning or else taking a risk, and opening the door would alert anyone keeping watch that they might try something soon. Stalling served no further purpose, comfortable as it might have been.
"I think we're clear," Mina whispered. Then, half invitation and half command: "Lead the way."
What else could she say? Was her relief palpable in her tone? She hoped not. It seemed really horrible and disrespectful, but Faye wasn't someone whose death crushed Mina, or even really meant a ton to her. She'd seen the girl around at parties, of course, but that was true of much of the class. Faye had been popular and nice in this broad, inoffensive, boring sort of way, and she didn't hold her alcohol very well, and that was what Mina knew. If they'd never been chosen and Faye had been run over by a bus and somehow Mina hadn't been directly told, she could not honestly say she would've noticed the girl's absence.
So, yeah, she was glad it was Faye.
Had Faye deserved it? Had she shot Charlie in an aggressive action, then been killed before she could reload? Mina sort of thought maybe she'd heard Faye's name before, like perhaps the girl had killed someone. So there was a chance Charlie had been in the right, and that was good enough; Mina decided she didn't actually really care that much to know if she was wrong in her construction of a narrative absolving Charlie of blame. She'd of course be on guard for any betrayals, but she'd already given Charlie every opportunity to suddenly stab her to death and couldn't really see what the other girl would get from delaying such an action.
Charlie opened the door and waited a moment, still in cover. Nothing happened. Mina moved to stand behind her, treading carefully around the hazards, listening but hearing only the faint ambient sounds of insects and wind. No gunshots came, nobody jumped out, and while some assailant could be waiting to ambush anyone who stepped further from cover it wasn't like Mina and Charlie had any other routes they could take. They'd either be waiting here until morning or else taking a risk, and opening the door would alert anyone keeping watch that they might try something soon. Stalling served no further purpose, comfortable as it might have been.
"I think we're clear," Mina whispered. Then, half invitation and half command: "Lead the way."
Mina's reaction could be best described as nonchalant, and if Charlie wasn't concentrating on straining her ears for any kind of reaction to opening the door, she might have spared more thought to it.
Not a sound from outside beyond ambient night noises. No, the ambiance of a battlefield.
The odd shout.
The occasional distant crack of gunfire.
In case for a moment Charlie had forgotten where she was and what position she was in—they were all in. Strange how that moment of survival, that desperate time as she and Mina had scrambled for some way of staunching the bleeding and help her out, could somehow contrive to blank out the wider danger. Make her forget what had been done to all of them.
This was a battlefield, that was plain enough, but whose battle were they fighting? Why?
Charlie had answers and she liked none of them.
Keeping low and hunched over, Charlie nevertheless did her best to still move quickly. Immediate queasy pain struck her as she slipped out of the door and she almost stumbled before firmly planting her foot and righting herself, correcting the moment.
She made a gesture for Mina to follow, hoping that at least that much military signalling and knowledge had sank in, and then began to move forward.
Were they?
((Charlie continued elsewhere))
Not a sound from outside beyond ambient night noises. No, the ambiance of a battlefield.
The odd shout.
The occasional distant crack of gunfire.
In case for a moment Charlie had forgotten where she was and what position she was in—they were all in. Strange how that moment of survival, that desperate time as she and Mina had scrambled for some way of staunching the bleeding and help her out, could somehow contrive to blank out the wider danger. Make her forget what had been done to all of them.
This was a battlefield, that was plain enough, but whose battle were they fighting? Why?
Charlie had answers and she liked none of them.
Keeping low and hunched over, Charlie nevertheless did her best to still move quickly. Immediate queasy pain struck her as she slipped out of the door and she almost stumbled before firmly planting her foot and righting herself, correcting the moment.
She made a gesture for Mina to follow, hoping that at least that much military signalling and knowledge had sank in, and then began to move forward.
Were they?
((Charlie continued elsewhere))
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
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- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Mina nodded, followed, observed. She watched Charlie's hunched posture, watched as the girl almost fell, watched the hand signals. She wondered whether the injury really had been dealt with. This was another reason sticking with Charlie was actually not a very good idea: if Mina had done things wrong and the other girl keeled over and died anyways, Mina would have to see it happen and maybe accept some responsibility for it. If she wasn't around Charlie, well, who could say? The announcements, yeah, but it could always be infection from some other injury, or maybe some secondary failed attempt at treatment. These things happened, and Mina would probably be able to rationalize it away for the brief remainder of her life.
Footfalls light and pace quick, Mina trailed three steps behind her companion, finding it easy enough to keep up. Her lungs still burned and her knee stung a little and she was starting to get thirsty, that dry feeling in her throat that was unpleasant but nothing more. Still, she felt comparatively good. This was probably her new baseline, the status quo compared to which everything else would appear unfavorably. Nobody was shooting at her or strangling her, she wasn't bleeding, and she was fully dressed. Yes, her situation could've been far worse.
When Charlie seemed particularly preoccupied with keeping steady and sneaky and speedy, Mina snaked her right hand under the hem of her shirt, awkwardly grasping inside until she managed to extract her voice recorder, which she narrowly avoided dropping on the ground, and transferring it to her left-hand outside pocket. She didn't turn it on yet—there was nothing to record—but having it easily accessible made her feel better somehow. If nothing else, she'd be able to play back the last announcement and catch the upcoming one. And, of course, document to some degree non-hostile interactions with Charlie.
She wished she'd caught some of what had just happened. Even she was having trouble fully believing it without further evidence.
((Mina Mashall continued in Strange Bedfellows))
Footfalls light and pace quick, Mina trailed three steps behind her companion, finding it easy enough to keep up. Her lungs still burned and her knee stung a little and she was starting to get thirsty, that dry feeling in her throat that was unpleasant but nothing more. Still, she felt comparatively good. This was probably her new baseline, the status quo compared to which everything else would appear unfavorably. Nobody was shooting at her or strangling her, she wasn't bleeding, and she was fully dressed. Yes, her situation could've been far worse.
When Charlie seemed particularly preoccupied with keeping steady and sneaky and speedy, Mina snaked her right hand under the hem of her shirt, awkwardly grasping inside until she managed to extract her voice recorder, which she narrowly avoided dropping on the ground, and transferring it to her left-hand outside pocket. She didn't turn it on yet—there was nothing to record—but having it easily accessible made her feel better somehow. If nothing else, she'd be able to play back the last announcement and catch the upcoming one. And, of course, document to some degree non-hostile interactions with Charlie.
She wished she'd caught some of what had just happened. Even she was having trouble fully believing it without further evidence.
((Mina Mashall continued in Strange Bedfellows))