Sad Tunes

[jimmydalad]

((Aria Samuels: Start))

It probably wasn't the safest thing for him to do to sit so close to the edge. Granted, being safe wasn't the highest of concerns for him. No, he had more pressing things to deal with. Like coming to terms with everything that just happened. Mr. Dolph was fucking dead and he was in a death game. He'd already checked if it was a dream. Pinching himself numerous times had no effect as he still stubbornly stayed in this nightmare made a reality. He knew it was pointless to cry. Not like it'd do him any good. Not like crying ever did him any good.

He was lucky that the fence had rusted. He probably wouldn't have been able to climb over if it hadn't. Now that he was sat on the edge, everything felt so serene. It was quiet, with only the wind blowing in his ear and the sounds of the crashing waves into the rocks below. It'd be so easy to jump. Just end it all and not have to deal with this stupid game. It wasn't like he was going to win. He got a trumpet. A fucking trumpet. What the fuck was he supposed to do with a trumpet? The organizers must've thought it was sooooo funny to give the weak guy the fucking useless ass piece of shit that was useless in every sense of the term when it came to this game. What the fuck were they thinking? Did they want to screw him over? Play a cruel joke to not even let him pretend he had a chance of victory? God, it was all so fucking stupid!

No, he needed to calm down. Like his mom told him. Take deep breaths. Come on Aria, just do it. He could feel his heart trying to break free from his chest as he closed his eyes. Take long and deep breaths, like mom told you to do. Maybe it was the sound of nature around him that allowed him to regain his breath. In and out. In and out. No one was around. He was alone. That was good. It meant that he could not completely mentally shut down and freak out. That would suck. Especially if it was in front of one of the jocks. Or the cheerleaders in a group. Or any popular person in general. They probably wouldn't hesitate to kill him. They'd probably just laugh at how pathetic he was before he died. It wouldn't surprise him considering how fucking scummy they all were.

Still, the breathing helped, if only a little bit. Aria still hated the situation he was in. It was unfair, it fucking sucked, but he probably should do something about it. He didn't want to die like a pussy. He didn't want to give any of those popular bitches the satisfaction. Still, there wasn't a lot he could do. He had a fucking trumpet. He wasn't a threat at all. At least there was a basic manual about how to play the stupid thing. He might as well learn how to play that. Better than just lugging it around like a piece of trash. He was alone, for now, so it wasn't like he had anything better to do. Plus, it was quite nice where he was.

... waait, what did he have to do with his mouth? Wasn't it just blowing? Why was blowing a fucking trumpet so difficult? If he had anything else to do, he would probably have just chucked the trumpet by this point. But nope. He was gonna sit on this mountain. No way in hell was he moving, especially when that meant he was more likely to be seen by someone. Still, it was so fucking stupid. Why are trumpets designed like this? He already tried a few impotent blows to no avail. Apparently, you have to do a certain mouth technique and make a buzzing sound? His hands were clenched tightly to the trumpet, feeling like they were slowly digging in. Why couldn't he get this stupid thing right? At this point, it was his life's goal to be able to play this stupid thing properly. Get a single note out at the very least. He wanted to show the stupid organizers that he could find a use for the stupid fucking joke weapon they gave him. That'd totally show them.

Aria let out a frustrated yell after a few more blows produced pathetic wimpers of sound. At this point, who cares who sees him? It's not like it made any fucking difference if he got ambushed or not. They could easily kill him because of this stupid fucking trumpet if they had anything resembling a weapon. He bet that all the popular kids got better weapons than he did. It wouldn't surprise him. Not like the world hasn't fucked him over enough already. God fucking hell, why couldn't he play this stupid trumpet? It was music, that was totally his thing! He could feel himself sweating, frowning intensely as he read the instructions again for what seemed to have been the billionth time.

He was gonna play this trumpet.

First blow? No good. Second blow? No dice. In the back of his mind, he was aware that this was just pointless and a distraction from playing the game or something or other. But Aria didn't want to play the game. He might have hated some of his classmates, but never to the point of killing them! He wanted to be on the school trip that was probably gonna suck anyway. At least that sucked in a non-life threatening way. Whatever, he might as well just focus on this trumpet. At least that way he won't accidentally off himself or someone else. That seemed to be a productive use of his time.

A sound came out. It wasn't a pretty sound, in fact, it could be better described as a tuneless wail, but it was a sound nonetheless. Success! He did it! Aria fist pumped and let out a loud holler of excitement. He did it! He found a use for the stupid trumpet! Granted, he wasn't sure if he was able to replicate that technique, but he made a sound! Why the fuck should anything else matter when he made a sound! God yes! He had no idea how it'd come in handy, but he did it! He certainly showed them! Aria chuckled contently to himself, putting the trumpet back to his lips and trying to blow again. After a few seconds of finagling, he finally managed to let out a loud, long note that played out towards the sea. Aria kept blowing as the erratic moans pierced the calm atmosphere without a care in the world.

[Aura]

((Adonis Alba continued from Fear and Fury))

Even after he finished the arduous process of waking up without access to coffee or toast, Adonis wasn't in a better mood. In fact, he was actually more irritated now that his mind was in good enough shape to fully comprehend his situation beyond the base aspects. Right now he was in the mood to punch a terrorist more than anything, and he felt that he would be justified in doing so. After all, eye for an eye, right?

Realistically, he was probably fucked. He was stuck with his entire cast until all but one of them were dead, and yeah, he was tough, but fighting through his entire class? That was a hell of a tall order. And even if he could do it, he wasn't sure that he could go through with it when the time came. He knew how to fight, and he had even exchanged punches with a few of his classmates before, but actually killing them? That was messed up. He had standards, man.

He started walking along a cliffside, giving himself another nice view of the sea that separated him from the rest of the world that was presumably having a better day than he was. There was even some pieces of a rusted-out fence along the way to remind him that he was stuck in an incredibly shitty prison. He swore that this morning couldn't possibly get any worse.

TOOT

What the fuck?

Some bizarre sound, like a sick duck trying to yodel, invaded his ears. Adonis might have been able to brush it off had a longer, louder version of the same noise not blared a short time later. What the hell was going on up there? Was someone blowing a foghorn for shits and giggles? Whatever it was, Adonis wasn't going to take it lying down. He braved the noise and kept walking along the cliffside.

It was only a short way up the path that he found the source of his aural misery. Some guy was blowing a horn that just had to be broken. Either that or he was an ungodly horrible musician. Either way, Adonis was going to take care of this the best way he could: his way. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted with all the strength his lungs could accumulate.

"SHUT UP!"

[Cicadan]

((Minus five ones and one zero: Rachael Langdon: Start))

I didn't pack anything for the trip. I really really really should have.

Out of the many similar-voice thoughts competing for expression in Rachael's head that was the only one that wasn't screamed.

Rachael was pretty sure she was going to die and Mom and Dad and Bridget oh god Bridget they'd hear it through the news and one of them would break the television with their chest heaving with uncontrollable sobs but also Daniel was here, Eris was here, Jasmine was here and somewhere on this island be it far away or close where there were maybe already gunshots and blood splatters and broken mangled rotten corpses splayed with every limb broken into an impossibly bent and twisted spaghetti noodle angle melting flesh sluicing onto the salted earth over the crags of bleached bones

Rachael couldn't breathe.

She could remember last night. Daniel laughing as he pointed out the window of his room and Rachael on tiptoe to peek around his shoulder. The scene looped in her conscious thought, over and over again, picture perfect. It mocked her, like the camera above did as it whirred and hummed and it was so loud and right in her ears and heavy like the buzzing of flies over Rachael's broken body. She unwillingly imagined herself painted in red and brittle smears on the floor, like Mr. Dolph.

It was too cold, even though the sun was out. It was too hot, and Rachael had furiously scratched at the sleeves and bodice of her blouse, rubbing her nails raw against the fabric and her own skin to try and dry the sweat off her still dry and mealy blouse. She'd also started violently tearing at her own face, because no matter how many times she'd ground the bridge of her nose into paste against the long since slimy and snotty skin of her forearm the tears hadn't stopped. Rachael's face had come to resemble some sort of ground, raw meat as red splotches painted her face bloody. Rachael had trembled to pieces, with each step, until she'd collapsed barely a few feet from where she'd woken up. She still couldn't breathe. Each thought of taking a breath only became a tight constriction over her collarbone.

I need to find someone Ineedto
find Felicia or Daniel or someone they're going to die they're going to
die and I'm going to find the corpse the cameras are everywhere please don't watch medon'tlookat me i'm sorry it's my fault i promisei'll never do it again
I need to talk to someone I have to do something I have to hide I have to run why am I sweating so much I feel disgusting I feel like I'm going to puke I feel so sick where am I why does ithurtsobadly

The lonely and ghostly sound of a dying animal echoed from the vagueness that lay beyond the section of rusted fence that had been Rachael's sole solid connection to existence for the past five minutes.

Rachael stuttered and squeaked to herself, nervously shifting in place, rolling on her hips a bit, she hissed in pain as a bit of jagged metal jutting from the fence links dug into her back with a dull swipe.

She glanced up and around. She saw someone in the distance, an amorphous human shape blob jutting right over the edge of the horizon-swallowing cliff like her own shadow over the abyss. She stared. The sounds were those of an instrument, she barely recognized.

She had to say something. Logically she was safe. Gun in her bag, smooth and sickle-like, enough thorny bullets to gun down everyone she'd ever known and loved. She tried to open her mouth, a wave of nausea only let her shove out a pained moan as she nearly collapsed, cheek of her face slamming hard into the sharp flakes of the fence. She desperately gulped at air. She tried to say something again. She had to call out, to connect to something beyond herself, beyond her own flailing self-pity.

say something say somethingsay something something

"SHUT UP!"

Rachael did as she was told without hesitation, or decency, as her overwhelmed mind once more commanded her to cry and she did, a pathetic animal wail that screeched through an octave almost too high for human hearing, she folded like a house of cards onto herself and became nothing more than a quivering sack of meat unceremoniously thrown onto the earth.

im so sorry im sorry please please dont hurt me im sorry

[jimmydalad]

Aria's first instincts were to bolt up from the floor and move as far away from the edge as possible, only stopping when he could feel the sharp edges of the old fence start digging into his back. Admittedly, that was unexpected. Who the fuck was stupid enough to announce their presence like that? Then again, he was loudly mangling the trumpet, so he probably shouldn't critique the other person's survival instincts. It did still piss him off. Maybe because the voice was such a dick about it.

Jesus Christ, what the fuck? Another loud voice suddenly ripped through the air, this time infinitely more pathetic than the one before. Was he the fucking pied piper for loud people? It certainly seemed like it. He really needed to take stock of the situation. First of all, the voice of obnoxious asshole. Adonis Alba. That certainly explained why someone would do something so retarded and obnoxious. God, of all the fucking idiots he could meet up with first on the island, of course, it was the meathead who had an anger problem that was somehow even worse than his own that lashed out at people. It was as if God found one of the absolute worst people you could start off with on this island and chucked him in his direction. It made him glad that he was on the other side of the fence.

As for the other sound, it was some random chick whom he had never seen before. Or maybe have seen, but never recognized. Whoever she was, she looked absolutely woeful. The game only just started and she already was in crying hysterics. He probably should try and cheer her up, but that would mean going over the fence which also meant leaving him vulnerable to an attack from Adonis. It didn't even matter if the caveman had a weapon. He would just beat the shit out of him until he was a bloody carcass.

"Uhhhhhh are you okay there?" Aria called out from behind the fence, his voice a bit unsteady. At this point, he was starting to cling onto the chain links, even if they did hurt a bit. He'd rather not accidentally tumble backward to his death. That would be fucking tragic. He looked concerned but made no effort to move anywhere close to the girl. Even if she was completely harmless, Aria still felt uneasy about approaching anyone.

"As for you," Aria began shouting, turning his attention to Adonis. "If you promise not to fucking kill me and stop shouting like an idiot, I'll happily stop playing this trumpet!"

He could've chosen his words better, but he was safe behind this fence. At least for the moment. That gave him some sense of security. Still, he felt rather awkward. He was stuck between a living bomb and a basket case. He really wished he could've been anywhere else.

[Aura]

All right, Trumpet Boy shut up. Adonis' ears were saved. Or at least they would have been if some girl hadn't immediately started crying. Damn, did he just walk into a loudness festival or something? Walking away and just letting things play out without him sounded awfully tempting... but he wasn't going to do that? Why? Because Trumpet Boy yelled back at him. That was basically a challenge, and Adonis couldn't back down after being called out.

"Hold up, you're yelling at me?" He shouted incredulously. "I'm not the one going around making Louis Armstrong cry!" Wait, that was the trumpet guy, right? Eh, whatever. He was on a roll. "If you hadn't been acting like a dumbass, then we wouldn't have a problem, now would we?"

He stalked closer to the fence, glaring back at Trumpet Boy on the other side. He raised a pointed finger, ready to cap off his rant with a scathing retort before realizing that he didn't have one. Lacking an improvisation, he just kept on staring and pointing until it started seeming more weird than threatening. The staredown also had the side effect of allowing the sound of crying to return to his ears, reminding him that there was someone else in the area. He looked around with a look of irritation in search of the source, and visibly recoiled when he found a crumpled girl on the ground emitting the wails.

"Oh shit!"

[Cicadan]

And she'd been born with a demon in her heart, that poor little girl torn from the teat of her beloved village, try as she did to spill innocent and girlish tears she was ultimately naught but a howling animal like any other finding themselves cornered. Perhaps she was the very evil she'd feared, she realized with almost amusement percolating among the ashen dregs of the watery fear sluicing from the crevasses of her brain. Here in her last moments she had only such thoughts to comfort her, for the remainder were rather violent reminders of the gun pointed her way.

A monotone monologue numbed Rachael's front lobe. She panicked still, but almost in a manner she wasn't aware of. Her thoughts were buried in nameless graves, undead constructs churning the earth as they ominously rumbled for freedom.

How had she ended up here, forehead digging a rut into the stale soil?

sorrysorry sorry sorry sorry

Rachael trembled, entirely rocking on her knees until she almost violently lurched forward and cut her head open and dashed her brains out onto the fence before her. Her head continued to ring like the hollow toning of funeral bells, her vision was mostly a headache and a wobble. People were closer now, and they said things, and she looked their way through eye whites stained a bloody red, her head weakly hanging from her own neck at a chopping block angle. A shallow breeze would have likely toppled her into the fence or maybe blown her ragdoll corpse off the cliffside.

... they're talking to me.

She was frightened without knowing why.

As always.

"I-...I-ah... I'm fuh-fine." She timidly searched the faces looking her way or otherwise, her eyes half averted as she did so. She didn't recognize one face. Her stomach tied itself into a gallows knot. She recognized the other face. And her stomach was a pulsating sack of meat thrown into a blender.

Adonis

Now she knew why she was frightened. She made weak squeaking noises like a mouse being trampled, tried to claw her way to a standing position with her palms pressed into the fence rings until the hurt was pattern accurate to each twist and turn of metal. She needed to go, she needed to run, Adonis was not the person she wanted to see now or ever but maybe that was because she never wanted to see anyone ever again because this island would be nothing but screaming and bloodied flesh and there was no escape and nowhere she could hide

and she faltered, her knees were suddenly consumed by an earthquake and she buckled, only weakly able to keep herself up by wildly and desperately tightening the grip of her hands. She began to babble, repeating the only coherent bits of English language left in her head.

"A-ah-I'm fine, I'm fine, fine, fine, don't worry..."

She gagged, a heavy and wet cough.

[jimmydalad]

Oh God, he was seriously thankful for this stupid fence right now. Adonis was pissed. Aria stepped a little away from the fence, playing a precarious balancing game between the fence and the edge of the cliff. His options were either to stay on this side and risk coming to a premature end by cliff diving or climbing over and risking coming to a premature end due to having the shit beat out of him by a numbskull with a temper tantrum. Neither option was very appealing.

Probably best not to retort. No need to get the dumbass any more fucking pissed than he already was. He looked over at the cliff that looked so inviting before that now was demonstrating the true danger it posed. Maybe the reality of the situation he was in was really starting to kick in. He was going to die. Maybe not here, but definitely at some point. And worst of all, there was nothing he could do about it.

His hands were slightly shaking as he looked towards the other girl. She was a mess, somehow even less fit to play than he was. It seemed that the game that they were stuck in hit her hardest as she was now a blubbering mess. God, it was so pathetic. Aria couldn't help but feel bad for her. He never knew her, probably never wanted to before now, but right now he wanted to do something for her. Make her feel more comfortable and less like a tragedy.

"Look, I know we didn't get off to the best start," Aria began unsurely, sidling across the fence to be closer to the girl. "but I'd rather not die at the moment. Can we not try and fucking kill each other? Do you really want to give those bastards who kidnapped us the satisfaction of succeeding? I sure fucking don't. Sorry if I pissed you off by acting like a dumbass. There, you happy?"

He was trying to use all the things he learned from being bullied to smooth over the situation. Normally that didn't work, but the situation was different. Maybe the idiot would be able to recognise that. Aria didn't notice any meaningful weapons on him, so maybe he got screwed over like he did. That would be hilarious. He managed to eventually reach the crying girl. Now that he was here, though, he didn't really know how to proceed. He'd never really comforted someone before.

"Uhhh hey. Things are gonna be alright. We're not going to try and kill you, ok?"

He guessed that was a start? Maybe mentioning death wasn't the best thing in the world. There was a gap in the fence that Aria used to reach over to the girl and give her a few reassuring pats. He should probably make himself as little a threat as possible.

"I can't hurt anyone, I've got a fucking trumpet. You're gonna be ok."

He wasn't sure this was working. But at least it was better than doing nothing? He hoped? What the hell was he doing?

[Aura]

So Trumpet Boy wasn't playing his damn instrument anymore. That was progress. Adonis wasn't really that much happier, since the whole situation was still many different varieties of fucking awful, but at least he wouldn't have to listen to the tortured squawks of mishandled brass anymore. So you know, small steps.

Now the focus of the situation was on the girl, who looked like she was pretty much in complete breakdown mode already. He tried to recall her name, since there was something about her that seemed familiar to him. Uh... was it Ronnie? Renee? Riley? Probably started with an "R", right? Whatever, that wasn't important right now. He had other things to think about, like how to maybe get her to stop flipping out. She makes too much noise, then everyone on the damn island would start showing up, and Adonis didn't like those odds.

Adonis closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He knew that was supposed to help keep a handle on his anger, but he wasn't too optimistic about his effectiveness. Generally, strong outside influences like, oh, being kidnapped by terrorists had a much stronger effect on him than this kind of self-therapy stuff, but it wasn't like he could really make things worse by trying it out. At the very least, he understood that yelling more probably wouldn't make things better right now.

"Yeah, yeah, we're cool." He said, trying to help calm the situation a little. "It's all good. There's only a couple people right now I'd like to take down anyway."

Wait. Shit. There weren't many worse ways he could have said that. A couple is two and there were two people right in front of him who already weren't his biggest fans. Yeah, he needed to fix that.

"I'm talking about the dickbags who did this to us!" He pleaded, trying to walk back his most recent statement. "Those guys deserve a beating, not you! Serious!"

Way to go, Adonis. Way to go.

[Cicadan]

"A-ah-mu-muh-
..mm..-a-ah-
I-..."

Rachael was suddenly the specimen being dissected under the microscope lens. Two sets of eyes pointed her way, and then the innumerable others on the other side of the camera lens staring, unblinking, depicting what was left of her life in cold realism.

She nearly opened her mouth, but the hinge was somehow rusty and creaking and she felt her stomach try to jump out her own throat.

Rachael heard them out, her quivering eyes tracing a line over the two boys that a three year old could have drawn cleaner, more often she looked to the ground or to her own feet which spun rapidly as the blood continued to slush into her grey matter with each rapid fire pulse of her heart. Their words offered little comfort. Daggers in the form of syllables really, wicked talons tapping their way up her spine in shivers with each attempt Adonis and the unknown face made.

All the same, I appreciate it...

She consciously understood she wasn't in danger, why couldn't she calm down and think clearly? Why did her head feel so hollow and empty?

And her eyes were flayed like animals skinned, the tears had burned themselves over her sclera in a permanent etch of her own pain and fear. She turned away from the gun as it did from her, finding shelter in the cold bones that formed the jigsaw pattern of her hands in interlocking ridges and grooves. She was safe.

She finally forced herself to nod. Settle. Her desperate stuttering became deep inhalation. Rachael's breathing began to ease, she continually had to gulp for air still but at least steadily.

"O-okay... I... I'm safe. I, tuh-trust you guys..."

She'd nearly choked trying to say even that much. She hoped they could somehow carry on the conversation without her. It was almost ridiculous, in a way.

I'm willingly going to listen to Adonis, of all people.

There was a familiarity to her state, the way her lungs and belly rounded, tensed, then relaxed all in rhythm. It was like breathing for yoga. A few more memories blossomed as she took the time to calm herself, to feel the deafening screeching static in her head melt away so she could process something, anything besides her own mortal fears.

She'd spent a beautiful evening relaxing with Daniel. Early morning yoga, she'd pushed herself deep into a powerful posture with each muscle settling into a yawning stretch.

She'd forgotten to take her medication.

Here and now Rachael's expression was forced into neutrality. Her eyes were half closed, her gaze was indistinct and unfocused, but she still saw everything. She couldn't, not for a moment, let her awareness wander. She didn't know when she'd become so paranoid.

[jimmydalad]

Ok, things were getting better. Aria was liking this turn of events. Granted, it still fucking sucked that they were in this situation. But he wasn't at risk of dying. That was a great start! He expected it out of the girl who basically was falling apart in front of him. He didn't expect it from Adonis. He thought an asshole like Adonis would jump at the chance of killing some of his classmates. After all, from what he heard, he had a really bad falling out with the football team.

Maybe he should climb over? It wasn't like the piece of the fence he climbed over was far away. Plus he did feel a bit detached from the situation. There was a fence between him and the other two. He also was starting to not enjoy being close to the edge of the cliff. Maybe his survival instincts were finally kicking in.

While Adonis was busy making an idiot of himself, he quickly sidled with his bag a little away from the two, towards the area where the fence had rusted to the point of slightly falling apart. While it hadn't completely collapsed, it had certainly fallen off the top to make a somewhat easy gap he could climb over. He first lifted the bag over, with a little difficulty. Afterward, he started to climb, trying his best to ignore the little digs into his skin from the pieces of fence that decided to jut out. While he wouldn't describe his climb over as elegant, he managed to successfully do it without smashing his face on the floor.

Did she say trust? Aria wasn't ready to say that he completely trusted either of them. Adonis was a well known walking disaster and he had no clue who the fuck this girl was. For all he knew, she could be pulling some elaborate act for a supremely misjudged long con. He wasn't any better either. Was trust even a thing that could be in this game? Danya said only one person could survive in the end. He nervously eyed the cameras that seemed to be omnipresent. The way he saw it, the game was designed to sew mistrust.

"This might sound retarded, but do we have to play this game?" Aria asked the two as he started to think. "I don't want to give the dicks who captured us any satisfaction and honestly, I don't wanna be a fucking murderer either. All these cameras here want to watch us go crazy. But honestly, fuck them. I don't want to play."

Aria's anger burrowed through the more he talked. He felt his words made sense. Why the fuck should he bend his will to what they wanted him to do? They gave him a stupid ass weapon and put him in a fucking awful situation which he probably was going to lose. Why the fuck should he go around and pretend he even had a chance?

"We should just stick together and not kill. Heck, let's be as fucking boring as possible. As soon as we play, they win. They wanted to screw us over since the beginning, so why give them any satisfaction?"

Aria declared this all with a confidence he didn't even think he had. What the hell was this game bringing out of him? He had joined the others at this point and gave them a smile. He had to smile in this situation. He wanted to find a way to fuck these assholes over. Screw the people who took away their lives from them. He wouldn't let them get the satisfaction so long as he lived. If there was a way he could fuck over their game, he'd certainly take it in a heartbeat.

[Aura]

Hold up, that was it? No more crying? That was easier that Adonis thought it would be. He was expecting a whole thing to unfold, but apparently that wasn't the case. He was a little weirded out by the way the girl looked at him, though. The way she just went from freaking out to looking totally flat was just... freaky. Not dangerous, just really weird. Either way, he felt a little twinge in his spine.

Did she really trust them, though? That part seemed to come out of nowhere for him. Literally one minute ago she was screaming and hollering while Adonis yelled at Trumpet Boy for blowing his horn, and now they were all cool? Even weirder, Trumpet boy backed this up and took it even further, saying that they should team up on the basis of... Adonis had no idea, really. Because they were all in the same place, apparently.

The big lug had to take a step back and think about this sudden turn of events. Yeah, forming a team would be good because of safety in numbers and all that good shit, but would just any team really work? Specifically, this team? Yeah, Adonis could totally take care of himself. He didn't even have to doubt that. But these other two... damn, he had his doubts. Who was to say that an hour later things won't go straight back to where they started? He had good reason to be cynical, didn't he?

"Yeah..." His apprehension could be detected in his voice alone. "Yeah, I'm not saying that's not a good idea or anything, but I think I'd have to think on it." He scratched at his hairline. "Not saying I don't trust you guys, but... yeah."

He was pretty sure that he wasn't being a jackass on the topic. This was a totally rational way to approach it, right?

[Cicadan]

Her efforts sputtered as her own breathing, the inches she tried to give or surrender to calm her own aura were journeys of miles and legions. The spinning of her vision only grew more insistent. She couldn't have looked either of the others in the eye even if she'd wanted to. Their voices were claws on chalk on board.

Still, she forced herself to uneasily listen.

In the gulf of silence after Adonis finished speaking, she nodded.

"I..."
another dangerous drop in the pit of her stomach, and her eyes bulged a bit but fortunately she strained eyes and mouth alike shut
"Ah-uh...-agree... I don't... nuh-n...know..."

She continued to agree with Adonis, almost wholeheartedly, much as her own heart was a quivering and fluttering arrhythmia and infarction. But the unknown face- unknown, she was reminded with a numb thrill of dread- was also right. Much as Rachael could barely turn her head more than a few degrees from perpendicular to earth she knew she was no killer.

Killer. That was something no amount of head-splitting anxiety, nausea... all these things, could force her to be.

Sign the tattered ancient parchment contract in your own blood and tears, little girl. Oh, but she says no. Words, they're just the illusion of choice anyways. You had not a leg to stand on from the get go, how could you have one when your own legs are always busy giving out from under you? You're a demon, a monster, and you accepted that long before you ever knew you'd be putting a scarlet pen to dotted line.

Rachael listened in hushed dread. To the people around her, to herself.

[jimmydalad]

Talk about blowing the wind out of your fucking sails. Aria didn't even have time to drum up some enthusiasm before his entire plan came shattering down around him. He sorta expected Adonis to be a fucking disappointment because when is he not disappointing or aggravating, but the fact that the crying wreck also didn't seem to be on board the "Let's be decent people and not fucking kill each other" train. Was it really that fucking hard to decide not to be a serial killer?

"Look." Aria began, his frustration at the two of them clear in his voice. "This really shouldn't be a fucking hard decision. You either don't play and be a fucking good person, or go off the deep end and become a fucking killer and play the game."

At this point, Aria was just going to assume that they were playing the game. They were hesitating on an idea that should be mindless. No, Aria didn't want to be a stupid puppet on strings that goes around killing people. Even if he wanted to, the oh so beloved Danya gave him a fucking trumpet. How many more reasons did he need to not listen to anything those bastards had to say. But apparently, these two had problems with that. It wouldn't surprise him if one of them suddenly jumped on him. Even the girl who'd been doing nothing but crying ever since she got here.

"If you guys are going to play the fucking game, at least tell me. That way, I know to stay the fuck away from you whenever possible."

Aria was seriously considering just fucking off by this point. He didn't need to be with anyone. He was probably better off alone. These two could crack at any moment and he didn't want to have anything to do with that. Honestly, it might be better off if he did die so that he wasn't stuck here anymore with these retards. I mean, it's fucking stupid playing the game. It's what they want. As soon as everyone started playing the game, they fucking won.

Fuck that.

Fuck that shit to hell.

[Aura]

Okay, where the fuck does Trumpet Boy get off? All he did was say that he wasn't totally sure that teaming up was a good idea, but not this asshole is going off on him like he was talking about how he was going to go slit some throats and drink the blood. Now Adonis was starting to get pissed. Like, real pissed, not just kinda annoyed like he was earlier.

"The fuck you goin' on about?" Adonis said, sneering at the accusations levied at him. "When did I say anything about playing? You're the one who brought it up, jackass. I didn't say shit."

Up until this point, he would say that he has done a pretty good job of controlling his temper. Sure, he was kinda grading on a curve, but he hadn't hauled off and punched anyone yet despite having perfectly good reason to, considering the duress that he was under. Trumpet Boy was doing a pretty good job of trying to get him to break that streak, though. Adonis squared up to him, making full use of his size advantage over the other boy.

He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Hell, if anyone here was gonna play, I'd bet it was you."

Let's see how you like it, douchebag.

[Cicadan]

"You either don't play and be a fucking good person, or go off the deep end and become a fucking killer and play the game."

But.

I understand that.

She couldn't get it out. Her mouth was too dried, too slicked with blood, too welded shut. She stared at the ground. Harder than she'd already stared. It had been so long since anybody had ever spoken to her in accusations and suspicions.

She didn't like it. Didn't like the arguments, didn't like the sneers and the jeers and the tones and the things that she couldn't do a thing about because they were arguing around her. She didn't know what she could do about that and she didn't know what she could do at all. She didn't want to do anything, at all. She had to try, somehow, against all god-given odds.

"T-tha..."

'That's wrong.'

'That's not what I meant.'

'We're not being productive.'

'We need to calm down.'

'We'

We? We, we, we, who is we? There are only two people in this conversation and neither of them is in your stupid head.

Rachael began to back off. Slowly, creeping inch by inches worth of her soles trying to claw into the soil like a desperate skeleton of a man to a mirage of water. The fence, the boys, they began to melt away, she was moving so slowly, seconds passed in centuries, she could do it, she could just turn and bolt and run and hide away from the unfamiliar voices and unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar thoughts in her own head

Her ankle creaked, folded, snapped. Twisted at a wicked angle against the earth. She fell with a guttural animal cry, flailing a brief but poignant SOS all the way down, she accidentally caught herself right on the shoulder and she heard a sickening crack, like the porcelain of a plate. Her scream of pain caught in a traffic jam in her throat, right behind the breath trying to come in right behind the breath trying to rush out.

The boys heard other things too. The rattling of heavy metals and plastics in her bag. Crisp and mechanical, the impact of her gun and the cartridges of bullets within against the earth and each other.