((Anastasia Arcadia continued from Killer Munchies))
The trek across the resort was uneventful. Between vetoing locations based on appearance of violence occurring there, or signs that groups of others were nearby, Ana did little more than snuggle next to Shawn and come up with fun facts about Awesometownia. Retroactively claiming every place they passed as Awesomtownia territory and giving the boys proper titles of nobility also took place, but nothing much more. She kinda liked the titles. Count King, Earl of Sombrero. Marquess Bellamy, Lord of the Cold March. King Thornton, joint heir to House Arcadia. That last one was still gonna take a lot of convincing. But it was her kingdom, why not her name?
When they arrived she knew this was the place. The hotel was going to be her palace. She just loved how it looked. "Here we are guys. This is our new place. I dub thee, Imperial Palace Fennalis, Fortress of Badassitude. Also, I'm adding Empress to my titles now." She smiled and laughed.
As they entered she marvelled at how incredible this all was. She opened her mouth to say something but was rudely cut off by the announcements. By far the worst and most annoying parts of the show, whenever she watched. The recaps were better. But then, as a contestant and not a viewer, the announcements were an invaluable tool. So she paid close attention.
Names of the dead, names of the killers to watch for. But two names stood out. One dead, Lisa Toner. How long ago had Ana seen her alive? At the party? And now, she was gone. One name of a killer, Lucia Del Pirlo. Never in a million years would she have expected it. And how could she trust Lucia now if they met here? Would she believe Lucia's side of the story?
Sebastien took off. Said something about needing a moment. Ana waited until he left. She knelt on one knee, bowed her head, and raised her right arm to forward. "Requiescant in pace, I shall not forget thee sleeping dead." She got back up. "Nor will I abandon those who fell and took lives. I still believe they can be saved. Somehow."
She sighed and began pacing back and forth. This was worse than she thought. She had to act quickly before anyone else got hurt. Before anyone else died without cause. "Darling, I think we need to form our recruitment strategy now. Before we lose more friends. If we can bring Lucia to our side than maybe we can convince the others that they're not beyond hope either."
Maybe. But that would be difficult. It—
Was that raised voices outside? Nah, couldn't be. She went back into thought.
"What we need to do is—"
Gunfire. Loud, very loud gunfire.
She froze, her eyes drifted to the doorway.
She heard the calls for Shawn, the screams really, then Sebastien was at the door. Still outside. Bleeding. He turned around, and screamed again.
She stood there, rigid. Her mind went blank. Her eyes vacant.
This wasn't real, was it? This couldn't be real.
"I... I... S-Shawn. D-do something. I can't. I..."
She sunk to her knees, pitched forward onto her hands. She cried, voiceless. Wept, helpless. Reality 1, Fantasy 0.
Do something Arcadia. For the love of god, do something, her mind screamed. But she didn't move. She was frozen. Paralyzed with fear.
This was real. Far too real.
Bitter Dream
Death thread
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Lord_Shadow
- Posts: 536
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:43 am
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
((Jackson King continued from Killer Munchies))
Jackson fell back into himself as they made their cross-island trek around the lake. Really, he had reverted back to how he was at school. Reserved, polite. Unobtrusive. Despite the gaudiness of his outfit, Jackson really hadn't taken the opportunity to reinvent himself. All that had changed was the acceptance that death was impending, and he would take it however it happened.
It made dealing with "AnArchy's" schtick easier to manage.
It almost made it possible to deal with the names of kids, kids from his own school, being read off in a list on the announcements. Kids that were now dead. Still, each name darkened his face, even as he hid it underneath the brim of his hat. He was happy they'd found the lobby, if only to get some reflecting time.
It was so relaxing, that when hell hit, it was a real shock the system.
Sebastien was calling for Sean, Ana was losing her facade. Their friend outside was bloody, in the wake of whatever the fuck had happened with the gunshots.
Jackson was looking now, throat dry. Faced with a concrete problem, his mood manifested physically, a line of sweat running from his forehead.
Jackson pushed himself off of spot on the west wall of the hotel, looking to Shawn.
"We gotta get out there." He said, not even thinking about whether or not danger was actually still present.
Jackson fell back into himself as they made their cross-island trek around the lake. Really, he had reverted back to how he was at school. Reserved, polite. Unobtrusive. Despite the gaudiness of his outfit, Jackson really hadn't taken the opportunity to reinvent himself. All that had changed was the acceptance that death was impending, and he would take it however it happened.
It made dealing with "AnArchy's" schtick easier to manage.
It almost made it possible to deal with the names of kids, kids from his own school, being read off in a list on the announcements. Kids that were now dead. Still, each name darkened his face, even as he hid it underneath the brim of his hat. He was happy they'd found the lobby, if only to get some reflecting time.
It was so relaxing, that when hell hit, it was a real shock the system.
Sebastien was calling for Sean, Ana was losing her facade. Their friend outside was bloody, in the wake of whatever the fuck had happened with the gunshots.
Jackson was looking now, throat dry. Faced with a concrete problem, his mood manifested physically, a line of sweat running from his forehead.
Jackson pushed himself off of spot on the west wall of the hotel, looking to Shawn.
"We gotta get out there." He said, not even thinking about whether or not danger was actually still present.
((Shawn Thornton continued from Killer Munchies))
((Permission to steal possessions granted))
A blank patch of wall on the other side of the hotel lobby seemed to be occupying a fair amount of Shawn’s attention right now, at least considering how long he had been staring mutely at it.
Lucia. That wasn’t a name he was prepared to hear.
It wasn’t the only name read out by a long shot, a fact that was also causing Shawn some trouble, and she wasn’t even the only name he recognised. Lisa, Lucy, Isaiah; he couldn’t say he really knew any of them, or was friends with them, but he saw them around, talked to them, flirting with at least one of them. And now they were gone.
Lucia’s name had stood out to him more than the others, but not the context it appeared in. It took him a few seconds to realise that she wasn’t being named as a victim, but at a killer.
That threw him for a loop. He couldn’t begin to imagine a situation where the shy, secluded girl would kill someone; it didn’t seem like something she would do. Then again, he’d thought it before; if there was any situation that could push someone to there breaking point it was this one.
And what was it his sister always said? It’s always the quiet ones.
He didn’t notice at first when Anastasia started pacing, but he began paying attention when she spoke. She wanted to start forming their recruitment strategy, what’s more, she wanted to bring Lucia into the group, apparently as a way of showing that no-one was beyond hope.
He had mixed feelings about that. He was all for helping Lucia, he just couldn’t believe she’d become a murderer, self defence was far more likely. But, on the other hand he wasn’t sure giving an open invitation and a message that even killers would be welcomed with open arms.
Not everyone could be saved. Not everyone wanted to be saved. And those that wouldn’t be saved might try to take others down with them. Shawn was all for saving as many as possible, but he was more than willing to turn away those who might be a threat to them.
He was about to voice his thoughts when he was distracted by sounds of shouting from outside. He looked around the lobby to see if anyone else was hearing it as well; Anastasia did, Jackson did, Sebas… where was Sebastien?
Just as the sinking feeling was starting to settle in, the gunshot came, and his stomach plummeted with it. No… the game had finally found them.
He heard his voice being called, screamed. Someone was calling for help, but he couldn’t move; he was frozen in inaction. What could he do?
Sebastien slammed into the door and left a bloody smear across the glass. He felt, more than heard Anastasia collapse beside him. He heard but didn’t comprehend Jackson calling out. He was just focused on that streak of red.
He was moving before he even knew where he was going. He bent down next to Anastasia, not to give her comfort or to lift her up, but the grab the strap of the rifle she still carried and to lift it away from her.
He didn’t know how to use it or if it was even loaded, but hell if he was going out there without a weapon. He didn’t know what was going on, just that Sebastien was hurt, someone had hurt him and Shawn needed to get out there. He practically ran to the door, shouldering it open and swinging the gun around at hip height to point it at the first thing he saw that looked vaguely human-shaped.
It turned out the only thing out there, other than Sebastien and a trail of blood in the snow, was a lump several feet away. The more he looked, the more it began to resemble a person collapsed on the ground, one that was covered in blood and bandages and who was probably not a threat anymore.
He felt like going to check just to make sure, but the worry of what would happen if they were still alive, either what they would do to Shawn or what Shawn would have to do to them made him reconsider. He pulled his eyes away from the sight and turned to Sebastien. He was still standing, somehow, but it only took one glance downwards to see that he probably shouldn’t be. Sebastien was dripping blood into an ever increasing puddle on the ground from a hole in his side.
With medical knowledge that amounted to a sum total of nothing, Shawn guessed that that was pretty fucking bad.
Turning to look back through the still open door, Shawn locked eyes with Jackson and called out to the other boy. “Jackson, get out here. I need help bringing him in.”
Swinging the rifle strap over his shoulder to free his hands, Shawn refocused on Sebastien and held out a hand. “Come on, give me your arm, I’ll carry you inside.” And as long as Shawn didn't look too closely at the wound, he was pretty sure he could do it without throwing up too.
((Permission to steal possessions granted))
A blank patch of wall on the other side of the hotel lobby seemed to be occupying a fair amount of Shawn’s attention right now, at least considering how long he had been staring mutely at it.
Lucia. That wasn’t a name he was prepared to hear.
It wasn’t the only name read out by a long shot, a fact that was also causing Shawn some trouble, and she wasn’t even the only name he recognised. Lisa, Lucy, Isaiah; he couldn’t say he really knew any of them, or was friends with them, but he saw them around, talked to them, flirting with at least one of them. And now they were gone.
Lucia’s name had stood out to him more than the others, but not the context it appeared in. It took him a few seconds to realise that she wasn’t being named as a victim, but at a killer.
That threw him for a loop. He couldn’t begin to imagine a situation where the shy, secluded girl would kill someone; it didn’t seem like something she would do. Then again, he’d thought it before; if there was any situation that could push someone to there breaking point it was this one.
And what was it his sister always said? It’s always the quiet ones.
He didn’t notice at first when Anastasia started pacing, but he began paying attention when she spoke. She wanted to start forming their recruitment strategy, what’s more, she wanted to bring Lucia into the group, apparently as a way of showing that no-one was beyond hope.
He had mixed feelings about that. He was all for helping Lucia, he just couldn’t believe she’d become a murderer, self defence was far more likely. But, on the other hand he wasn’t sure giving an open invitation and a message that even killers would be welcomed with open arms.
Not everyone could be saved. Not everyone wanted to be saved. And those that wouldn’t be saved might try to take others down with them. Shawn was all for saving as many as possible, but he was more than willing to turn away those who might be a threat to them.
He was about to voice his thoughts when he was distracted by sounds of shouting from outside. He looked around the lobby to see if anyone else was hearing it as well; Anastasia did, Jackson did, Sebas… where was Sebastien?
Just as the sinking feeling was starting to settle in, the gunshot came, and his stomach plummeted with it. No… the game had finally found them.
He heard his voice being called, screamed. Someone was calling for help, but he couldn’t move; he was frozen in inaction. What could he do?
Sebastien slammed into the door and left a bloody smear across the glass. He felt, more than heard Anastasia collapse beside him. He heard but didn’t comprehend Jackson calling out. He was just focused on that streak of red.
He was moving before he even knew where he was going. He bent down next to Anastasia, not to give her comfort or to lift her up, but the grab the strap of the rifle she still carried and to lift it away from her.
He didn’t know how to use it or if it was even loaded, but hell if he was going out there without a weapon. He didn’t know what was going on, just that Sebastien was hurt, someone had hurt him and Shawn needed to get out there. He practically ran to the door, shouldering it open and swinging the gun around at hip height to point it at the first thing he saw that looked vaguely human-shaped.
It turned out the only thing out there, other than Sebastien and a trail of blood in the snow, was a lump several feet away. The more he looked, the more it began to resemble a person collapsed on the ground, one that was covered in blood and bandages and who was probably not a threat anymore.
He felt like going to check just to make sure, but the worry of what would happen if they were still alive, either what they would do to Shawn or what Shawn would have to do to them made him reconsider. He pulled his eyes away from the sight and turned to Sebastien. He was still standing, somehow, but it only took one glance downwards to see that he probably shouldn’t be. Sebastien was dripping blood into an ever increasing puddle on the ground from a hole in his side.
With medical knowledge that amounted to a sum total of nothing, Shawn guessed that that was pretty fucking bad.
Turning to look back through the still open door, Shawn locked eyes with Jackson and called out to the other boy. “Jackson, get out here. I need help bringing him in.”
Swinging the rifle strap over his shoulder to free his hands, Shawn refocused on Sebastien and held out a hand. “Come on, give me your arm, I’ll carry you inside.” And as long as Shawn didn't look too closely at the wound, he was pretty sure he could do it without throwing up too.
At last, Shawn. Sebastien should have been relieved and grateful, but all he could do was look at Shawn blankly as he swung the rifle in Gabe's direction.
Gabe.
Shawn extended a hand to him. Sebastien ignored it at first, still looking over Shawn's shoulder to the body. The body. Gabe was a body now.
"He's dead." Just rasping out those two words made his throat hurt more. He'd done more screaming in the last few minutes than he probably had his entire life. "He's dead, he-" The words caught, and his eyes and cheeks were stinging, and he became aware that he was crying and had been for some time.
I can't take this, I can't- Sebastien tried to step away from the door and move past Shawn to Gabe, but he barely got one step before having to grab Shawn's shoulder for support. It was a miracle that he'd managed to stay standing this long, even with the support of the door.
"Just don't- Don't let her see." That was stupid, it was all stupid, they were right in front of the door and everyone had certainly seen everything, but protecting Ana's little vision of security was all Sebastien could cling to right now.
Gabe.
Shawn extended a hand to him. Sebastien ignored it at first, still looking over Shawn's shoulder to the body. The body. Gabe was a body now.
"He's dead." Just rasping out those two words made his throat hurt more. He'd done more screaming in the last few minutes than he probably had his entire life. "He's dead, he-" The words caught, and his eyes and cheeks were stinging, and he became aware that he was crying and had been for some time.
I can't take this, I can't- Sebastien tried to step away from the door and move past Shawn to Gabe, but he barely got one step before having to grab Shawn's shoulder for support. It was a miracle that he'd managed to stay standing this long, even with the support of the door.
"Just don't- Don't let her see." That was stupid, it was all stupid, they were right in front of the door and everyone had certainly seen everything, but protecting Ana's little vision of security was all Sebastien could cling to right now.
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Lord_Shadow
- Posts: 536
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:43 am
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
GET UP ARCADIA.
I'm too scared.
GET UP.
Too afraid.
GET. UP.
Afraid.
ANARCHY GET UP!
She was still crying as she rose up. Sniffling, shaking like a leaf. The screaming was done, the blood was still flowing, it seemed. She fought the urge to hurl. Anastasia didn't speak as she moved past the boys and out into the cold again.
She moved slowly, hazily. Unsure of where her feet were taking her. She had walked past her allies without a word, trudged onward to the attacker. The boy was dead, that much was apparent as she came to a stop over the corpse. It seemed her heart had business with this body, or rather the person it once was.
"Wh-where?" She sputtered. She was still shaking, but fear was slipping from her mind. Anger was beginning to take its place. "Where do you get off? B-bastard! You come here... Y-you attack my friend. If you fatally wounded him, there'll be—" She stopped and looked intently at the bloody mess in front of her.
"You're not even here to atone. You can't even pay for your crimes you son of a bitch!" She screamed. "Fuck you! FUCK YOU!" She stomped her feet. It was idiotic, yelling at a dead guy, she knew. But who was gonna stop her?
She was.
She glared angrily at the body, but keep silent. Calm yourself, let serenity fill you. The emotion not the movie. There you go, humor makes rage dissipate. No, not the time for jokes. Her expression became more neutral.
"You died without being given the chance to repent. For that, I would have sympathized with those who mourn your loss. But you made the choice to brandish a weapon against mine and my own. For that, I declare you cursed, and banished away from my vision of utopia. Let all who stand by you that yet draw breath be declared my enemies as well."
She knelt next to the boy. "Memento mori. That's what you've reminded us of here. You've woken me up to the reality of my situation. No more games, no more fooling around. Like Alexander I shall go forth and conquer. So thanks be to you for that. But only those thanks. I'll not see so brazen a fiend given proper rites. You shall remain here for all to see. This is the end of those who oppose my vision."
She walked back to the others. She dried the tears from her eyes. With a cold look of disdain she viewed her subjects. The days of leniancy were done. "Count King, King Thornton, patch Marquess Bellamy up. We need you alive Lord Bellamy, guide them as best you can in that process. Husband, once you are done you will return my weapon. A ruler is nothing without force behind her rule. Move quickly people. The clock is ticking."
A true Empress, Queen, Goddess. She had to become this is they had any hope to survive.
I'm too scared.
GET UP.
Too afraid.
GET. UP.
Afraid.
ANARCHY GET UP!
She was still crying as she rose up. Sniffling, shaking like a leaf. The screaming was done, the blood was still flowing, it seemed. She fought the urge to hurl. Anastasia didn't speak as she moved past the boys and out into the cold again.
She moved slowly, hazily. Unsure of where her feet were taking her. She had walked past her allies without a word, trudged onward to the attacker. The boy was dead, that much was apparent as she came to a stop over the corpse. It seemed her heart had business with this body, or rather the person it once was.
"Wh-where?" She sputtered. She was still shaking, but fear was slipping from her mind. Anger was beginning to take its place. "Where do you get off? B-bastard! You come here... Y-you attack my friend. If you fatally wounded him, there'll be—" She stopped and looked intently at the bloody mess in front of her.
"You're not even here to atone. You can't even pay for your crimes you son of a bitch!" She screamed. "Fuck you! FUCK YOU!" She stomped her feet. It was idiotic, yelling at a dead guy, she knew. But who was gonna stop her?
She was.
She glared angrily at the body, but keep silent. Calm yourself, let serenity fill you. The emotion not the movie. There you go, humor makes rage dissipate. No, not the time for jokes. Her expression became more neutral.
"You died without being given the chance to repent. For that, I would have sympathized with those who mourn your loss. But you made the choice to brandish a weapon against mine and my own. For that, I declare you cursed, and banished away from my vision of utopia. Let all who stand by you that yet draw breath be declared my enemies as well."
She knelt next to the boy. "Memento mori. That's what you've reminded us of here. You've woken me up to the reality of my situation. No more games, no more fooling around. Like Alexander I shall go forth and conquer. So thanks be to you for that. But only those thanks. I'll not see so brazen a fiend given proper rites. You shall remain here for all to see. This is the end of those who oppose my vision."
She walked back to the others. She dried the tears from her eyes. With a cold look of disdain she viewed her subjects. The days of leniancy were done. "Count King, King Thornton, patch Marquess Bellamy up. We need you alive Lord Bellamy, guide them as best you can in that process. Husband, once you are done you will return my weapon. A ruler is nothing without force behind her rule. Move quickly people. The clock is ticking."
A true Empress, Queen, Goddess. She had to become this is they had any hope to survive.
There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
It was strange that the more real the situation got, the weirder everything became. Jackson had made it out of the door at Shawn's request, though in truth he had been heading out almost as soon as Shawn was moving. A dead kid on the ground and Sebastien's blood painted enough of a picture for Jackson to not even have to ask; the darkening of his features was enough to tell how he was feeling about.
But Ana, she was different. And somehow she was maintaining the whole schtick. Slowly, it was starting to sink in that maybe that wasn't a schtick. Maybe it was real as the dead guy on the ground.
That unsettled Jackson more than he cared to admit. Costume aside, he really was just playing at being eccentric, for the camera. For himself. Suddenly he had an overwhelming urge to change back into his normal clothes.
Jackson wanted a handle on the situation. He wanted something to make sense.
"What happened?" He asked, on the end of Anarchy's tirade. He looked at Sebastien, eyes boring into him, not sure what it was he really wanted.
But Ana, she was different. And somehow she was maintaining the whole schtick. Slowly, it was starting to sink in that maybe that wasn't a schtick. Maybe it was real as the dead guy on the ground.
That unsettled Jackson more than he cared to admit. Costume aside, he really was just playing at being eccentric, for the camera. For himself. Suddenly he had an overwhelming urge to change back into his normal clothes.
Jackson wanted a handle on the situation. He wanted something to make sense.
"What happened?" He asked, on the end of Anarchy's tirade. He looked at Sebastien, eyes boring into him, not sure what it was he really wanted.
"Just don't- Don't let her see."
Shit, Ana. He turned to the door to see if she was still on the ground, but she was already standing next to him, eyes locked on the body ahead of her. She was shaking, but the expression on her face was strangely inscrutable; he didn’t know what she was thinking and while that was true with Ana most of the time, now it made him feel helpless and powerless when he wanted to be anything but.
The people he was close to were hurting, emotionally and physically and he couldn’t do anything about either.
It wasn’t until she, well, exploded that he recognised the shaking as no longer repressed anger. He couldn’t help but just stare and let it happen as Anastasia ranted and raved at someone who was no longer there; Sebastien’s hand was heavy on his shoulder and he knew he had more important things to worry about but he was once again stunned into inaction.
And then it was all just… gone.
The anger dissipated and Ana was back in character. It was strange and a little disconcerting to watch, to see the normal and pained girl get smothered up under that regal finery; he guessed it helped her cope and he knew her plan called for it but there had to be time to let herself relax, release and grieve at some point.
Maybe if he could get her away from the cameras at some point he could talk to her about it. That was one of the problems of being in the game that never really occurred to you when you were sitting at home watching; you were never really alone.
Suddenly Ana was right in front of him and looking at him in a way he had never seen before. Inscrutable again at a time when he really should be able to, needed to be able to read her better than anyone else.
"Count King, King Thornton, patch Marquess Bellamy up. We need you alive Lord Bellamy, guide them as best you can in that process. Husband, once you are done you will return my weapon. A ruler is nothing without force behind her rule. Move quickly people. The clock is ticking."
It was just a character, but it was a character that was straying further and further away from the Ana he knew. He would need to talk to her soon, cameras or no cameras.
"What happened?"
Shawn turned to see Jackson standing nearby. Somehow Shawn had forgotten all about the group mariachi in the past few minutes’ confusion.
“A lot of stuff which isn’t that important right now. Main point is Sebastien is bleeding all over me, so help me get him inside.”
Shawn moved closer to Sebastien, trying to move his arm so that it was over his shoulder and not just resting on it. He put his arm around the guy’s waist and began walking to the door, hoping that the injured boy would follow his lead so he wouldn’t have to carry him.
As he walked he turned to look at Anastasia over his shoulder. Thinking of something to say in a moment like this was difficult; he wanted to reassure her but she seemed pretty assured right now anyway. He could tell her that everything would be ok but he didn’t know that was true and to be honest right now it felt more like a lie than anything else.
Shit, Ana. He turned to the door to see if she was still on the ground, but she was already standing next to him, eyes locked on the body ahead of her. She was shaking, but the expression on her face was strangely inscrutable; he didn’t know what she was thinking and while that was true with Ana most of the time, now it made him feel helpless and powerless when he wanted to be anything but.
The people he was close to were hurting, emotionally and physically and he couldn’t do anything about either.
It wasn’t until she, well, exploded that he recognised the shaking as no longer repressed anger. He couldn’t help but just stare and let it happen as Anastasia ranted and raved at someone who was no longer there; Sebastien’s hand was heavy on his shoulder and he knew he had more important things to worry about but he was once again stunned into inaction.
And then it was all just… gone.
The anger dissipated and Ana was back in character. It was strange and a little disconcerting to watch, to see the normal and pained girl get smothered up under that regal finery; he guessed it helped her cope and he knew her plan called for it but there had to be time to let herself relax, release and grieve at some point.
Maybe if he could get her away from the cameras at some point he could talk to her about it. That was one of the problems of being in the game that never really occurred to you when you were sitting at home watching; you were never really alone.
Suddenly Ana was right in front of him and looking at him in a way he had never seen before. Inscrutable again at a time when he really should be able to, needed to be able to read her better than anyone else.
"Count King, King Thornton, patch Marquess Bellamy up. We need you alive Lord Bellamy, guide them as best you can in that process. Husband, once you are done you will return my weapon. A ruler is nothing without force behind her rule. Move quickly people. The clock is ticking."
It was just a character, but it was a character that was straying further and further away from the Ana he knew. He would need to talk to her soon, cameras or no cameras.
"What happened?"
Shawn turned to see Jackson standing nearby. Somehow Shawn had forgotten all about the group mariachi in the past few minutes’ confusion.
“A lot of stuff which isn’t that important right now. Main point is Sebastien is bleeding all over me, so help me get him inside.”
Shawn moved closer to Sebastien, trying to move his arm so that it was over his shoulder and not just resting on it. He put his arm around the guy’s waist and began walking to the door, hoping that the injured boy would follow his lead so he wouldn’t have to carry him.
As he walked he turned to look at Anastasia over his shoulder. Thinking of something to say in a moment like this was difficult; he wanted to reassure her but she seemed pretty assured right now anyway. He could tell her that everything would be ok but he didn’t know that was true and to be honest right now it felt more like a lie than anything else.
Don't let Ana see the mess until they could find some way to fix things up. That had been Sebastien's only goal for the moment, and apparently he wasn't even allowed to have that, as Ana came sweeping past them and went straight to Gabe's body, launching into some kind of tirade against him.
Since he'd met her, Sebastien's feeling towards Ana could accurately be described as "all over the place". He had been confused by her, intrigued by her, embarrassed and sometimes bashful around her.
And right now, right in this moment, he hated her guts.
It was probably lucky that he couldn't really speak, because he honestly had no idea what he'd say, but he knew it wouldn't be anything good. Gabe was - had been - his friend. His good friend, one of the few people he could completely share an interest with.
And Gabe had trusted him. Told him about his family, how his mom hadn't ever been the same since his dad died. Things that it was clear he'd never shared with any other classmates.
Good to see me. He said it was good to see me.
And Gabe had been dying in front of him, and Sebastien hadn't lifted a finger to help.
Gabe was dead, and Ana had turned cold and strange, and Sebastien was clinging for dear life to some guy he barely knew and didn't even like. Everything was wrong.
He wanted to try and explain that to Ana, to get her to go back to the way she had been, but he couldn't. Couldn't trust himself to speak without letting the anger and grief and frustration boil over, couldn't be sure he'd even be able to force the words out. So he gave up, and silently let Shawn and Jackson pull him inside.
"...My bag," he said finally, his voice nothing more than a croaky whisper. "One of you get it, the first aid kit... different room." He flopped an arm in the direction of the men's bathroom. He needed to change and bandage himself, and he at least wasn't going to do it in front of Ana and all these windows.
Since he'd met her, Sebastien's feeling towards Ana could accurately be described as "all over the place". He had been confused by her, intrigued by her, embarrassed and sometimes bashful around her.
And right now, right in this moment, he hated her guts.
It was probably lucky that he couldn't really speak, because he honestly had no idea what he'd say, but he knew it wouldn't be anything good. Gabe was - had been - his friend. His good friend, one of the few people he could completely share an interest with.
And Gabe had trusted him. Told him about his family, how his mom hadn't ever been the same since his dad died. Things that it was clear he'd never shared with any other classmates.
Good to see me. He said it was good to see me.
And Gabe had been dying in front of him, and Sebastien hadn't lifted a finger to help.
Gabe was dead, and Ana had turned cold and strange, and Sebastien was clinging for dear life to some guy he barely knew and didn't even like. Everything was wrong.
He wanted to try and explain that to Ana, to get her to go back to the way she had been, but he couldn't. Couldn't trust himself to speak without letting the anger and grief and frustration boil over, couldn't be sure he'd even be able to force the words out. So he gave up, and silently let Shawn and Jackson pull him inside.
"...My bag," he said finally, his voice nothing more than a croaky whisper. "One of you get it, the first aid kit... different room." He flopped an arm in the direction of the men's bathroom. He needed to change and bandage himself, and he at least wasn't going to do it in front of Ana and all these windows.
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Lord_Shadow
- Posts: 536
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:43 am
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
Finally her subjects were moving. Took them long enough to stop standing around like idiots. She took one more look at Sebastien. The poor boy was a mess. And of course it was his own fault, but she still felt guilty for the role she played in his getting hurt. A small, nay, infinitesimal part but a part nonetheless.
"Do what needs to be done. I have matters to attend to." With that she went back over to the dead man, knelt by his side. She stared long and hard at his face. She tried to imagine how he looked when he had attacked Sebastien. The image that came to her mind disgusted her. She took the weapons from the body. The sword still had blood on it. She ran her hand over the blood. When she pulled it away her hand too was coated in it.
She brought it to her face and examined it. "Such a disgusting sight, and yet it carries our life. Blood, the crimson elixir of humanity. I suppose I'll have to shed some myself before this is over." She felt her breath on her blood covered hand. It felt strange, like her hand was no longer her own.
Her breathing was slow and rhythmic and focused. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that she was still being watched. She smiled devilishly, brought her hand to her mouth and licked some blood off. It was probably the most vile and terrible thing she had tasted. She wanted to spit it out. Instead she stared at the camera, looked her audience straight in the eyes, and exaggeratingly swallowed. "I've lost my mind now, haven't I? But... it wasn't as bad as I thought." She giggled. "And now I know what Sebastien tastes like. I wonder what the other two taste like. Maybe my darling will give me a taste."
She winked at the camera and laughed. She was losing her mind wasn't she? Or maybe she never quite had it all together in the first place. Ever since those men came for her, her thoughts were vastly different than normal. Scattered and strange, that much stayed the same, but it was as if everything in her mind now wanted her to be as mindbogglingly insane as possible. Truth be told it was a lot more fun than crying or being angry or sad or hopeless. Despair could not touch her if she never gave it a chance.
So, revel in madness for the cameras it was. Be strict and unapproachable for the boys. And if anyone dared to harm her or her subjects ever again, she would shoot them in the face and be done with it. Save who you can, Arcadia, bout no more free passes for anyone.
She wiped the blood off her hand using the dead boy's clothes. She wiped the blade on him too. She tried checking the gun for rounds, but had little idea how to. Best to read the manual later or let Shawn handle that when he was done. For now she took the gun and the sword. She could still taste that iron taste. She licked her lips. She was actually craving more.
That... might be a problem later on down the road.
"Do what needs to be done. I have matters to attend to." With that she went back over to the dead man, knelt by his side. She stared long and hard at his face. She tried to imagine how he looked when he had attacked Sebastien. The image that came to her mind disgusted her. She took the weapons from the body. The sword still had blood on it. She ran her hand over the blood. When she pulled it away her hand too was coated in it.
She brought it to her face and examined it. "Such a disgusting sight, and yet it carries our life. Blood, the crimson elixir of humanity. I suppose I'll have to shed some myself before this is over." She felt her breath on her blood covered hand. It felt strange, like her hand was no longer her own.
Her breathing was slow and rhythmic and focused. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that she was still being watched. She smiled devilishly, brought her hand to her mouth and licked some blood off. It was probably the most vile and terrible thing she had tasted. She wanted to spit it out. Instead she stared at the camera, looked her audience straight in the eyes, and exaggeratingly swallowed. "I've lost my mind now, haven't I? But... it wasn't as bad as I thought." She giggled. "And now I know what Sebastien tastes like. I wonder what the other two taste like. Maybe my darling will give me a taste."
She winked at the camera and laughed. She was losing her mind wasn't she? Or maybe she never quite had it all together in the first place. Ever since those men came for her, her thoughts were vastly different than normal. Scattered and strange, that much stayed the same, but it was as if everything in her mind now wanted her to be as mindbogglingly insane as possible. Truth be told it was a lot more fun than crying or being angry or sad or hopeless. Despair could not touch her if she never gave it a chance.
So, revel in madness for the cameras it was. Be strict and unapproachable for the boys. And if anyone dared to harm her or her subjects ever again, she would shoot them in the face and be done with it. Save who you can, Arcadia, bout no more free passes for anyone.
She wiped the blood off her hand using the dead boy's clothes. She wiped the blade on him too. She tried checking the gun for rounds, but had little idea how to. Best to read the manual later or let Shawn handle that when he was done. For now she took the gun and the sword. She could still taste that iron taste. She licked her lips. She was actually craving more.
That... might be a problem later on down the road.
There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
Jackson moved to help with Sebastien, Ana and his question momentarily forgotten in the face of something more immediate. Something tangible that could be dealt with. He took the other side of Sebastien, and when he made his request, Jackson was secure underneath his weight.
"Go ahead and get it, Shawn. I got him." Thankfully, Sebastien wasn't that much bigger than him, so he wasn't bluffing. Really, Jackson wantd to get back inside as much as he wanted to get Sebastien somewhere to rest. The cold wasn't bothering him so much as wanting to get away from what had happened.
In all honesty, Ana was making him just a little uncomfortable, too.
"Go ahead and get it, Shawn. I got him." Thankfully, Sebastien wasn't that much bigger than him, so he wasn't bluffing. Really, Jackson wantd to get back inside as much as he wanted to get Sebastien somewhere to rest. The cold wasn't bothering him so much as wanting to get away from what had happened.
In all honesty, Ana was making him just a little uncomfortable, too.
Shawn winced to hear Sebastien’s voice. It sounded hoarse, creaky and above all weak. When a person had that much trouble just saying a few words was there anything they could even do anymore? Especially considering the one person in the group who might be able to do anything was the one who needed help. Anastasia had told Sebastien to guide them in helping him, but could you really direct your own first aid; Shawn was pretty sure that as soon as the stitches or whatever started going in Sebastien wouldn’t be in much of a mood to talk.
The stricken boy asked for his bag and gestured towards the bathroom. Why he wanted to go in there he had no idea, it couldn’t be the cleanest place to do surgery but hey, doctors orders.
He stepped away from Sebastien, carefully extricating himself out from under his arm. He hovered nearby for a few seconds just to make sure he wasn’t suddenly going to collapse but Jackson seemed to have it under control.
“Got it. Be right back.”
He moved around the lobby, turning his head this way and that trying to spot where he’d left his stuff. Sebastien had asked for his own bag but one first aid kit was as good as another and he could find his own quicker than looking for someone else’s. He was sure he had left it somewhere around… there.
Jogging over to the counter he bent down to scoop his bag up by the strap and as he stood he looked out through the glass doors and spotted Anastasia outside. Something about her caught his eye and made him stop to watch her; maybe it was the sword in her hand, maybe it was the way she was talking to the cameras again and giggling. Maybe it was the fact he had just caught her licking someone else’s blood off her fingertips.
His concern for Anastasia’s mental wellbeing shot up another couple of degrees.
He turned away from the door but didn’t move just yet. What he had seen had stalled his mental processes for a moment and it was taking a moment for him to get them going again.
Right, bag. Sebastien needed the bag.
Shawn placed the rifle he was still carrying down on the counter. He felt a little apprehensive about leaving it out in the open and, if he was brutally honest with himself, leaving it with Ana as well. But it would only get in the way when he was helping Sebastien and it wasn’t like Anastasia didn’t already have a sword and a handgun.
Leaving the rifle behind he ran towards the bathroom to catch up with the others.
The stricken boy asked for his bag and gestured towards the bathroom. Why he wanted to go in there he had no idea, it couldn’t be the cleanest place to do surgery but hey, doctors orders.
He stepped away from Sebastien, carefully extricating himself out from under his arm. He hovered nearby for a few seconds just to make sure he wasn’t suddenly going to collapse but Jackson seemed to have it under control.
“Got it. Be right back.”
He moved around the lobby, turning his head this way and that trying to spot where he’d left his stuff. Sebastien had asked for his own bag but one first aid kit was as good as another and he could find his own quicker than looking for someone else’s. He was sure he had left it somewhere around… there.
Jogging over to the counter he bent down to scoop his bag up by the strap and as he stood he looked out through the glass doors and spotted Anastasia outside. Something about her caught his eye and made him stop to watch her; maybe it was the sword in her hand, maybe it was the way she was talking to the cameras again and giggling. Maybe it was the fact he had just caught her licking someone else’s blood off her fingertips.
His concern for Anastasia’s mental wellbeing shot up another couple of degrees.
He turned away from the door but didn’t move just yet. What he had seen had stalled his mental processes for a moment and it was taking a moment for him to get them going again.
Right, bag. Sebastien needed the bag.
Shawn placed the rifle he was still carrying down on the counter. He felt a little apprehensive about leaving it out in the open and, if he was brutally honest with himself, leaving it with Ana as well. But it would only get in the way when he was helping Sebastien and it wasn’t like Anastasia didn’t already have a sword and a handgun.
Leaving the rifle behind he ran towards the bathroom to catch up with the others.
The bathroom seemed decently clean, so there was that. Sebastien supported himself between Jackson and the wall, reaching up with one hand to fumble with the zipper on his hoodie. His hands were shaking so badly from the lingering cold and pain that it took longer than it should have to unzip, enough for him to start feeling a twinge of self-consciousness on top of everything else. Even so, he wasn't about to go so far as to let Shawn or Jackson undress him.
Removing his shirt was worse, as it peeled painfully away from the wound in his side rather than just slid off. Another shudder ran through Sebastien at the sight of the wound. That's my skin. That's me, split open like that.
Shawn finally returned with a first-aid kit, and Sebastien took a moment to try and find his voice again. "I need saline, gauze, and bandages. Cloth, not adhesive." He moved away from Jackson a bit to brace himself against the wall. "I'll need help cleaning... it... and wrapping the bandages."
In any other situation, Sebastien would have been so proud of himself. Wasn't he being so levelheaded, giving the directions, knowing what needed to be done? Look, Mom and Dad, those first-aid classes paid off after all. He sniffed and reached up with a shaking hand to scrub at his eyes. He could see himself in the mirror out of the corner of his eye, and god didn't he look pathetic, all thin and pale, with his eyes puffy and red from how he'd been crying.
"Just... pour the saline on a dressing or a gauze and use it to clean anything out of the area. And don't mess with my insulin pump." Sebastien gritted his teeth, steeling himself for when they started poking at the injury again.
Removing his shirt was worse, as it peeled painfully away from the wound in his side rather than just slid off. Another shudder ran through Sebastien at the sight of the wound. That's my skin. That's me, split open like that.
Shawn finally returned with a first-aid kit, and Sebastien took a moment to try and find his voice again. "I need saline, gauze, and bandages. Cloth, not adhesive." He moved away from Jackson a bit to brace himself against the wall. "I'll need help cleaning... it... and wrapping the bandages."
In any other situation, Sebastien would have been so proud of himself. Wasn't he being so levelheaded, giving the directions, knowing what needed to be done? Look, Mom and Dad, those first-aid classes paid off after all. He sniffed and reached up with a shaking hand to scrub at his eyes. He could see himself in the mirror out of the corner of his eye, and god didn't he look pathetic, all thin and pale, with his eyes puffy and red from how he'd been crying.
"Just... pour the saline on a dressing or a gauze and use it to clean anything out of the area. And don't mess with my insulin pump." Sebastien gritted his teeth, steeling himself for when they started poking at the injury again.
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Lord_Shadow
- Posts: 536
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 2:43 am
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
"Now where have my subjects gone? Oh yes, I told them to patch the marquess up. So... I'm all alone." Anastasia moved back into the Imperial Fortress. Her new throne for the time being. Her royal scepter lay before her. "Good man. Glad he knows how important it is to follow my instructions."
She lay the sword and handgun on the counter, grabbed the rifle, and slung it around her back again. She then took the sword in hand again. She made a few swipes in the air. The feeling of the blade in her hands was like nothing else. So much more powerful a feeling than the guns. "Not a drangleic sword but it'll do. Only problem is I don't think I can use Reznov and you at the same time, Soul Calibur. So you'll probably be entrusted to one of the nobles. We'll decide on that later ok?"
She lay the weapon down once more. The novelty of talking to her new regalia was wearing off, and talking to herself was even less appealing now. But there was nothing to do until the boys came back. No one to play with. She sat on the counter and idly twisted her hair through her fingers. The drying blood now transferred to her locks. "I'm beginning to think this was a waste of time. I had hoped not to confront other people to avoid trouble and yet trouble found us anyway. Is this my sign to truly start creating my utopia? But to do so now requires a sacrifice of blood. And here I had hoped to avoid all that."
She jumped up and began pacing once more. "Alone at last I can speak freely." She turned to the cameras. "I am not deluded. I know I can't go home without spilling the blood of another. And neither can Shawn. But I will do that on my terms. I won't play and make sport for this game. But kill I must, at some point. I just plan on taking whoever it is that most exemplifies the nature of this game and making an example of them. Because what would it signify if I took the most vile killer this game has to offer and blew their goddamn brains out to secure my victory? Like it or not, the only way I'm not going home with my beloved at the end of this is if I'm dead before that happens. I will get these other students to follow me. I will systematically hunt down those who cling to the ideals of your game. And I will tear away every ounce of false power you people think you have over me."
She gave a curtsey bow. "I am Anastasia Arcadia, Empress Exalt Queen Sovereign and the most awesome person to have ever been born. And I am the only person to have ever lived who chose this path. You may think I was forced into SOTF. The truth is I was created for this very purpose. I can feel it in my very soul. All my life I've been searching for a reason to live, and now I've found it. The perfect stage to showcase my idealogy. And my AnArchy will overcome this world. Maxim Three: AnArchy is not false. It's the truth. And that is the only fucking thing that matters. I may be losing my mind here but I'll gain a pure world. Just watch me."
Crazy or not, alone or with others. Nothing else mattered apart from her truth. And if her mind, body, and soul were burned away to give form to this blazing truth then so be it. Let the idiots think her being was there's to control. The truth would burn them away soon enough.
She lay the sword and handgun on the counter, grabbed the rifle, and slung it around her back again. She then took the sword in hand again. She made a few swipes in the air. The feeling of the blade in her hands was like nothing else. So much more powerful a feeling than the guns. "Not a drangleic sword but it'll do. Only problem is I don't think I can use Reznov and you at the same time, Soul Calibur. So you'll probably be entrusted to one of the nobles. We'll decide on that later ok?"
She lay the weapon down once more. The novelty of talking to her new regalia was wearing off, and talking to herself was even less appealing now. But there was nothing to do until the boys came back. No one to play with. She sat on the counter and idly twisted her hair through her fingers. The drying blood now transferred to her locks. "I'm beginning to think this was a waste of time. I had hoped not to confront other people to avoid trouble and yet trouble found us anyway. Is this my sign to truly start creating my utopia? But to do so now requires a sacrifice of blood. And here I had hoped to avoid all that."
She jumped up and began pacing once more. "Alone at last I can speak freely." She turned to the cameras. "I am not deluded. I know I can't go home without spilling the blood of another. And neither can Shawn. But I will do that on my terms. I won't play and make sport for this game. But kill I must, at some point. I just plan on taking whoever it is that most exemplifies the nature of this game and making an example of them. Because what would it signify if I took the most vile killer this game has to offer and blew their goddamn brains out to secure my victory? Like it or not, the only way I'm not going home with my beloved at the end of this is if I'm dead before that happens. I will get these other students to follow me. I will systematically hunt down those who cling to the ideals of your game. And I will tear away every ounce of false power you people think you have over me."
She gave a curtsey bow. "I am Anastasia Arcadia, Empress Exalt Queen Sovereign and the most awesome person to have ever been born. And I am the only person to have ever lived who chose this path. You may think I was forced into SOTF. The truth is I was created for this very purpose. I can feel it in my very soul. All my life I've been searching for a reason to live, and now I've found it. The perfect stage to showcase my idealogy. And my AnArchy will overcome this world. Maxim Three: AnArchy is not false. It's the truth. And that is the only fucking thing that matters. I may be losing my mind here but I'll gain a pure world. Just watch me."
Crazy or not, alone or with others. Nothing else mattered apart from her truth. And if her mind, body, and soul were burned away to give form to this blazing truth then so be it. Let the idiots think her being was there's to control. The truth would burn them away soon enough.
There was once a dumb psuedo-news line here. Now there's this pretentious nonsense. YOU1 DID THIS, YOU1 KNOW WHO YOU1 ARE!
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
1. Yeah you, you nefarious ne'er-do-well you.
Thankfully it was an uneventful trip to the bathroom, as Jackson kept his hips under Sebastien's so he could fully support his weight. And once he let him off, Sebastien seemed to know what to do. Jackson gratefully backed against the opposite wall, taking his hat off. He had a few talents; first aid was not one of them.
He flinched as the boy undressed. He almost asked again what had happened, but that would probably come in due time. Silence was probably golden.
Shawn came back with the first aid kit, and soon Sebastien was listing off directions, sounding very much like he knew what he was doing.
"You a doctor, man?" Jackson said. If ever an atmosphere needed lightening, it was this one. And again, the musician was still without an instrument.
He flinched as the boy undressed. He almost asked again what had happened, but that would probably come in due time. Silence was probably golden.
Shawn came back with the first aid kit, and soon Sebastien was listing off directions, sounding very much like he knew what he was doing.
"You a doctor, man?" Jackson said. If ever an atmosphere needed lightening, it was this one. And again, the musician was still without an instrument.
((Skipping to avoid inactivity))
"I want to be," Sebastien murmured in response to Jackson's question.
After a moment, he added, "Gabe did too. He was going to be an EMT. We took first-aid classes together." And then the words were spilling out of him, in spite of his hoarseness and pain. "He decided he wanted to be an EMT after he got mugged one time and the paramedics took care of him. He lived alone with his mom and wanted to make her proud."
And Ana called him a fiend, refused to grant him any sort of dignity. Sebastien wouldn't let Ana erase Gabe. He wouldn't let her treat his friends like the dirt beneath her feet just because they went against whatever loopy ideals she was holding onto here.
He wouldn't let her.
"I want to be," Sebastien murmured in response to Jackson's question.
After a moment, he added, "Gabe did too. He was going to be an EMT. We took first-aid classes together." And then the words were spilling out of him, in spite of his hoarseness and pain. "He decided he wanted to be an EMT after he got mugged one time and the paramedics took care of him. He lived alone with his mom and wanted to make her proud."
And Ana called him a fiend, refused to grant him any sort of dignity. Sebastien wouldn't let Ana erase Gabe. He wouldn't let her treat his friends like the dirt beneath her feet just because they went against whatever loopy ideals she was holding onto here.
He wouldn't let her.