((Vahka Basayev continued from Memento Mori))
It wasn't the perfect spot. Not by a long shot. But it'd do.
Vahka never considered himself the kind to sneak around. Too damn big for it. He was learning, though, and one of the things he'd picked up was that the direct route wasn't always the best. Sometimes you had to slink around a bit and catch somebody where they didn't expect you. Sometimes you had to take a breath and plan ahead.
That's where Marcus's bear trap would come in real handy.
He'd hidden it out in the snow among the tables, buried deep and unsuspecting. It gave him a couple options. One, he could hear it snap and bolt out from his hiding spot behind the stage quick and easy. Two, he could try to herd some poor bastard right up onto it if a fight broke out.
Either way suited him just fine. Right now, it was just a matter of time before one or the other presented itself.
Up, M'lady-Pack Your Things, This Place Is Not Your Home
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Latin For Dragula
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((Pia Malone continued from The Nthn Wave))
By the time Pia realized that she'd left Paisley, she barely had the energy to stand, much less turn and call for her. She'd been staggering for some time, dragging the rifle in one hand and keeping the other curled close to her, wrapped in a wad of cloth she'd managed to tear from that stupid pirate costume they'd given her. Blood was starting to seep through the cloth, and dropping into the snow because her legs had given out was as good a reason to give it a second look as any.
The last wisps of hysteria still clung to her, but rising in its place was the old anger and shame. She'd freaked, and hard. For what? A finger? It couldn't be that big a deal, right? Some player she was, screaming and running the second she actually got injured.
Pia unwrapped the cloth from her hand as carefully as her numb fingers would allow. It was... it was no big deal. Of course it wasn't. It was just a finger. Okay, more like a finger and a half. But it wasn't that bad. Really.
Little noises that could have either been sobs or giggles were escaping her as she examined her mangled hand. No big deal. What did you even use your little finger for, anyway? Or your ring finger, for that matter? It was useless to begin with, why not just go ahead and pull it the rest of the way off?
She almost went for it. Almost. The instant she tried to grasp her crooked finger, a jolt of agony shot all the way up her arm and she let out a little scream and tears sprang to her eyes. She curled in on herself and rocked for a while, cold and miserable and alone in the snow.
Little by little, she came back to herself and re-wrapped her hand. She gathered her bag and her gun - Paisley's gun - and slowly, painfully got to her feet. Paisley was probably dead, she decided. Paisley was dead because Pia had freaked and abandoned her and stolen her gun. The thought was just another painful twinge on top of all the others, now. Maybe she'd feel more when she was less exhausted, when she heard Paisley's name on the announcements come morning. She'd know who to look for then to make things right.
Somehow, she'd made her way back to the cabaret. Not ideal, not even close, but better than nothing. She could curl up on a corner of the stage or something, maybe salvage whatever junk Genni had left behind to keep herself warm.
She had to keep moving forward. That was the only option that would keep her alive, now.
And she succeeded in that, at least. Right up until she stepped into the bear trap.
By the time Pia realized that she'd left Paisley, she barely had the energy to stand, much less turn and call for her. She'd been staggering for some time, dragging the rifle in one hand and keeping the other curled close to her, wrapped in a wad of cloth she'd managed to tear from that stupid pirate costume they'd given her. Blood was starting to seep through the cloth, and dropping into the snow because her legs had given out was as good a reason to give it a second look as any.
The last wisps of hysteria still clung to her, but rising in its place was the old anger and shame. She'd freaked, and hard. For what? A finger? It couldn't be that big a deal, right? Some player she was, screaming and running the second she actually got injured.
Pia unwrapped the cloth from her hand as carefully as her numb fingers would allow. It was... it was no big deal. Of course it wasn't. It was just a finger. Okay, more like a finger and a half. But it wasn't that bad. Really.
Little noises that could have either been sobs or giggles were escaping her as she examined her mangled hand. No big deal. What did you even use your little finger for, anyway? Or your ring finger, for that matter? It was useless to begin with, why not just go ahead and pull it the rest of the way off?
She almost went for it. Almost. The instant she tried to grasp her crooked finger, a jolt of agony shot all the way up her arm and she let out a little scream and tears sprang to her eyes. She curled in on herself and rocked for a while, cold and miserable and alone in the snow.
Little by little, she came back to herself and re-wrapped her hand. She gathered her bag and her gun - Paisley's gun - and slowly, painfully got to her feet. Paisley was probably dead, she decided. Paisley was dead because Pia had freaked and abandoned her and stolen her gun. The thought was just another painful twinge on top of all the others, now. Maybe she'd feel more when she was less exhausted, when she heard Paisley's name on the announcements come morning. She'd know who to look for then to make things right.
Somehow, she'd made her way back to the cabaret. Not ideal, not even close, but better than nothing. She could curl up on a corner of the stage or something, maybe salvage whatever junk Genni had left behind to keep herself warm.
She had to keep moving forward. That was the only option that would keep her alive, now.
And she succeeded in that, at least. Right up until she stepped into the bear trap.
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Latin For Dragula
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From the moment he'd hunkered down, he'd figured that he'd be bolting towards the scream as soon as he heard it echoing out. He imagined that he'd take the sword in his hand and scramble across the ground as fast as he could, just to drive the point down on whatever he'd caught with wild-eyed fury and a satisfied smile. That was how the script played out. That's what people wanted to see.
When that scream came, he was over the stage in an instant. There was no sword in his hand, though. No painted on homicidal joy. No theatrics. Just pure, honest desperation.
She wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to see strands of pink hair and drops of red blood staining the snow together. She was supposed to be off kicking ass and taking care of herself, out of sight and out of mind.
The scene had fallen apart. His performance was shot as soon as he heard her. All he wanted to do was mitigate the damage.
When that scream came, he was over the stage in an instant. There was no sword in his hand, though. No painted on homicidal joy. No theatrics. Just pure, honest desperation.
She wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to see strands of pink hair and drops of red blood staining the snow together. She was supposed to be off kicking ass and taking care of herself, out of sight and out of mind.
The scene had fallen apart. His performance was shot as soon as he heard her. All he wanted to do was mitigate the damage.
There were no words. There was no swearing, no pleading, no shock.
Just pure, white-hot agony.
Pia was uselessly scrabbling at the teeth of the trap clamped around her leg before she even fully comprehended that she was caught. She didn't even realize that she wasn't alone until the sound of snow crunching under frantic footsteps overtook her own whimpers and she reached for the gun again, but that jarred her leg and sent more tears running down her face.
She was completely, utterly fucked.
And then she saw Vahka and the fight went right out of her. For a few seconds there was nothing but the sound of the wind and her own sniffling as they regarded each other and understanding settled over them.
Just pure, white-hot agony.
Pia was uselessly scrabbling at the teeth of the trap clamped around her leg before she even fully comprehended that she was caught. She didn't even realize that she wasn't alone until the sound of snow crunching under frantic footsteps overtook her own whimpers and she reached for the gun again, but that jarred her leg and sent more tears running down her face.
She was completely, utterly fucked.
And then she saw Vahka and the fight went right out of her. For a few seconds there was nothing but the sound of the wind and her own sniffling as they regarded each other and understanding settled over them.
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Latin For Dragula
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Vahka held up his hands and approached slowly as Pia started to go for the gun. "Easy, easy. I've got nothin'."
There was a pretty clear path in front of him. He had to get her out of that trap. He had to come clean about what'd happened. Carry her off somewhere, help her get back on her feet, look out for her.
"Christ, Pia..."
Carry that weight. Make up for the mistake as much as he could.
"It's gonna be alright. I'm gonna get you out, understand?"
He looked into her eyes as the words tumbled out. It'd be the right thing to do. What friends do for each other. What plain good people do for those in need.
It wasn't the first time he'd lied to her to get in closer since they woke up here. It wasn't the first time he'd seen that path laid out before him, and turned away. It wasn't the first time he'd held a friend's life in his hands and decided to crush it.
It wasn't the first, and it wouldn't be the last. It wasn't right. It wasn't good. Good people didn't leave the game.
And neither would Pia.
There was a pretty clear path in front of him. He had to get her out of that trap. He had to come clean about what'd happened. Carry her off somewhere, help her get back on her feet, look out for her.
"Christ, Pia..."
Carry that weight. Make up for the mistake as much as he could.
"It's gonna be alright. I'm gonna get you out, understand?"
He looked into her eyes as the words tumbled out. It'd be the right thing to do. What friends do for each other. What plain good people do for those in need.
It wasn't the first time he'd lied to her to get in closer since they woke up here. It wasn't the first time he'd seen that path laid out before him, and turned away. It wasn't the first time he'd held a friend's life in his hands and decided to crush it.
It wasn't the first, and it wouldn't be the last. It wasn't right. It wasn't good. Good people didn't leave the game.
And neither would Pia.
"No."
The word came out shaky and hoarse, her voice strained from screaming and the cold.
"It's not... I'm not okay." It was so hard. So hard to force the words out. So hard to face the facts. Everything had gone to hell so quickly, and her head was still spinning.
Down a few fingers? No problem. Down a leg? No, period.
And it was crushing her. Pia never thought that she could understand something so fully and still have it hurt so much. She'd thought that the only reason things hurt was because she couldn't understand, couldn't see why someone would say this or do that or choose to go away.
She wiped at her face with her good hand. "You know I'm not okay. Don't- don't look at me like that and try to tell me I am."
She looked Vahka right in the eyes. "I can't- I'm not going to be the load that drags anybody down. Ever."
And there it was.
They both knew - they'd always known - that there was really only one way this could end.
The word came out shaky and hoarse, her voice strained from screaming and the cold.
"It's not... I'm not okay." It was so hard. So hard to force the words out. So hard to face the facts. Everything had gone to hell so quickly, and her head was still spinning.
Down a few fingers? No problem. Down a leg? No, period.
And it was crushing her. Pia never thought that she could understand something so fully and still have it hurt so much. She'd thought that the only reason things hurt was because she couldn't understand, couldn't see why someone would say this or do that or choose to go away.
She wiped at her face with her good hand. "You know I'm not okay. Don't- don't look at me like that and try to tell me I am."
She looked Vahka right in the eyes. "I can't- I'm not going to be the load that drags anybody down. Ever."
And there it was.
They both knew - they'd always known - that there was really only one way this could end.
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Latin For Dragula
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There was no need.
Maybe there never had been. Maybe that's why he'd ended up waking up beside her. There was no need to lie. No need to pretend that everything was going to be alright. She wasn't holding on. They knew what they were then, and they knew what they were now.
"Yeah," he replied quietly. "I could pretend, though. Just for a second. Makes it easier." He looked down past her to the gun by her side. "It's made most things real easy, here."
Would she try to stop him from taking the gun, or had she given in that far? Did she know, and accept, where this was headed?
Course she did. Just how she was. He'd always liked that.
He paused for just a moment and let out a sigh. "Never could take the easy way, could ya?"
Maybe there never had been. Maybe that's why he'd ended up waking up beside her. There was no need to lie. No need to pretend that everything was going to be alright. She wasn't holding on. They knew what they were then, and they knew what they were now.
"Yeah," he replied quietly. "I could pretend, though. Just for a second. Makes it easier." He looked down past her to the gun by her side. "It's made most things real easy, here."
Would she try to stop him from taking the gun, or had she given in that far? Did she know, and accept, where this was headed?
Course she did. Just how she was. He'd always liked that.
He paused for just a moment and let out a sigh. "Never could take the easy way, could ya?"
"The easy way is for losers."
It was almost funny. Something she would have said back in school without a second thought.
"I'm no loser. Neither are you."
It was going to happen on her own terms. No begging. No crying any more than she already had. No laying there pathetically until she froze or bled out.
Pia grasped the butt of the gun, shoved it towards him through the snow. "So don't you- Don't leave me here like this. I'll haunt you." She tried to smile, failed. It's the thought that counts, right?
"A-also... Paisley." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I fucked up. I know that. If- if you get the chance..." She had to stop, take another few seconds to breathe so she could speak properly again. "When you hear who did it, if you run into them..." He would know. He always did.
She straightened up as much as she could, steadied herself. "And then... take it home, Vahka. Make me proud."
It was almost funny. Something she would have said back in school without a second thought.
"I'm no loser. Neither are you."
It was going to happen on her own terms. No begging. No crying any more than she already had. No laying there pathetically until she froze or bled out.
Pia grasped the butt of the gun, shoved it towards him through the snow. "So don't you- Don't leave me here like this. I'll haunt you." She tried to smile, failed. It's the thought that counts, right?
"A-also... Paisley." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I fucked up. I know that. If- if you get the chance..." She had to stop, take another few seconds to breathe so she could speak properly again. "When you hear who did it, if you run into them..." He would know. He always did.
She straightened up as much as she could, steadied herself. "And then... take it home, Vahka. Make me proud."
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Latin For Dragula
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A low, slow nod. That was all he could manage as he took the gun from her. It felt cold in his hand as he brought it up and aimed carefully.
Clean. Quick. Memorable. That's what she deserved.
"Damn straight."
There was a slight hesitation as his finger curled around the trigger. He'd never fired a gun before. Didn't know if he'd ever fire one again after this.
"Pia, I..."
There were more ways to finish that sentence than he could count. Confessions. Bargains. Declarations. Commemorations.
Words left better unsaid. He let the sound of the bullet leaving the barrel speak for him. No one else needed to know what he wanted to say.
They knew. She knew. That was all that mattered.
Clean. Quick. Memorable. That's what she deserved.
"Damn straight."
There was a slight hesitation as his finger curled around the trigger. He'd never fired a gun before. Didn't know if he'd ever fire one again after this.
"Pia, I..."
There were more ways to finish that sentence than he could count. Confessions. Bargains. Declarations. Commemorations.
Words left better unsaid. He let the sound of the bullet leaving the barrel speak for him. No one else needed to know what he wanted to say.
They knew. She knew. That was all that mattered.
Somehow, it didn't seem as loud when she wasn't the one firing.
She hoped Paisley got at least a little bit of the same courtesy that she was getting.
Sarah was going to be laughing all the way to the bank in the morning. Pia hoped she choked.
A thousand and one thoughts flew through her head in the second before Vahka fired, but she didn't voice any of them. None of it was really worth saying.
She didn't need to waste words to leave an impression. She was Pia-freaking-Malone. Yeah.
Vahka fired.
Pia jumped.
Red blossomed on the snow.
No regrets, or at least as few as she could manage right then.
Diamonds are unbreakable. People aren't. But goddamn if Pia Malone didn't try.
SS2 PIA MALONE: DECEASED
She hoped Paisley got at least a little bit of the same courtesy that she was getting.
Sarah was going to be laughing all the way to the bank in the morning. Pia hoped she choked.
A thousand and one thoughts flew through her head in the second before Vahka fired, but she didn't voice any of them. None of it was really worth saying.
She didn't need to waste words to leave an impression. She was Pia-freaking-Malone. Yeah.
Vahka fired.
Pia jumped.
Red blossomed on the snow.
No regrets, or at least as few as she could manage right then.
Diamonds are unbreakable. People aren't. But goddamn if Pia Malone didn't try.
SS2 PIA MALONE: DECEASED
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Latin For Dragula
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Hell of a climax. Short, sweet, explosive. The crowd would love it. All they needed was for him to give a flourish, throw out a one liner, even just walk away.
Just walk away.
But he couldn't. He couldn't give the camera a smirk and a wave. He couldn't shoulder the gun and saunter off to collect his supplies. He couldn't stop fucking crying.
It was ironic, in a weird way. Up until now, shit just kind of happened. He didn't have a concrete plan most of the time. He pretended to, he put on a tough, calculating face for the boss and the crowd, but mostly he'd just been real lucky. Now, the first time he'd tried to really get ahead and think things through...
It'd been harder than leaving Anzu, or beating Marcus, or killing Vince. He could handle all of that. Not her, though.
Vahka stayed knelt down beside her body in the snow and didn't move. The cloak draped down and hid her under his large frame. He didn't know how long he'd be there. He just knew he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
-----
It was time to go.
He didn't know why. He didn't know where. He just knew it was time to keep moving. If he stayed here much longer, he might as well just lie down beside her and catch a second bullet. Sounded mighty tempting.
But he had a promise to keep.
((Vahka Basayev Continued Domina Sanguinis))
Just walk away.
But he couldn't. He couldn't give the camera a smirk and a wave. He couldn't shoulder the gun and saunter off to collect his supplies. He couldn't stop fucking crying.
It was ironic, in a weird way. Up until now, shit just kind of happened. He didn't have a concrete plan most of the time. He pretended to, he put on a tough, calculating face for the boss and the crowd, but mostly he'd just been real lucky. Now, the first time he'd tried to really get ahead and think things through...
It'd been harder than leaving Anzu, or beating Marcus, or killing Vince. He could handle all of that. Not her, though.
Vahka stayed knelt down beside her body in the snow and didn't move. The cloak draped down and hid her under his large frame. He didn't know how long he'd be there. He just knew he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
-----
It was time to go.
He didn't know why. He didn't know where. He just knew it was time to keep moving. If he stayed here much longer, he might as well just lie down beside her and catch a second bullet. Sounded mighty tempting.
But he had a promise to keep.
((Vahka Basayev Continued Domina Sanguinis))