Alan had no idea what the fuck the deal was between Austin and Ximena. Austin hadn’t really talked much about his friends when the two of them had been together and certainly didn’t get shit after they were done. Didn’t matter much anymore, though.
“Don’t gotta worry about that. I look out for my people.”
Or at least, he tried to.
“I’ll do right.”
A Protest Against Despair
I wouldn't come here if I were you
Moderator: SOTF Supers Staff
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Catche Jagger
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almostinhuman
- Posts: 647
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"... good."
He wished Alan had done right by him, before all this. But Austin must never have counted as "Alan's people." Perhaps Austin had never really earned that.
He had to go, now. Noah was gonna need him. He hoped this detour hadn't rendered him already too late. Crispin had given him two hours, but he didn't know if he could trust him to keep to that.
He and Alan would likely not see each other again. Even if Crispin didn't kill him, ultimately, neither he nor Alan had much of a shot at survival. And really, they both deserved to spend these final moments with people who wouldn't hurt them the way the two of them always hurt each other. It was better for Austin to go, for them to stay apart for good. Perhaps they could find a little more peace that way.
There was one final thing that needed saying, though. Unforgiven as Alan was and would always be, this still felt important to get out there. Something he should've said years ago, when he smashed that window, or at any point in-between then and now. But better late than never, right?
"I'm s-"
Austin's words cut off. His presence abruptly vanished. Something had severed him.
((Austin Greene continued in Pale Rider))
He wished Alan had done right by him, before all this. But Austin must never have counted as "Alan's people." Perhaps Austin had never really earned that.
He had to go, now. Noah was gonna need him. He hoped this detour hadn't rendered him already too late. Crispin had given him two hours, but he didn't know if he could trust him to keep to that.
He and Alan would likely not see each other again. Even if Crispin didn't kill him, ultimately, neither he nor Alan had much of a shot at survival. And really, they both deserved to spend these final moments with people who wouldn't hurt them the way the two of them always hurt each other. It was better for Austin to go, for them to stay apart for good. Perhaps they could find a little more peace that way.
There was one final thing that needed saying, though. Unforgiven as Alan was and would always be, this still felt important to get out there. Something he should've said years ago, when he smashed that window, or at any point in-between then and now. But better late than never, right?
"I'm s-"
Austin's words cut off. His presence abruptly vanished. Something had severed him.
((Austin Greene continued in Pale Rider))
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Carrion Queen
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Ximena waited a moment.
"Is that..."
"Are we alone?"
"Is that..."
"Are we alone?"
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Catche Jagger
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Austin was just gone. Not simply silent, fuming at the back of Alan’s skull, but well and truly gone. Was it some sort of joke? A mistake? He’d never known Austin to just get snapped out of his little visitations, and he also knew how it was nearly impossible to wake him up when he was out.
The silence which followed was finally broken by Ximena’s question, which Alan quickly realized that he didn’t have a proper answer for.
“I… um, yeah. Austin’s gone.” He replied, trying to erase the puzzled look from his face as he turned to face her once again. Part of him wondered what Austin had been trying to tell him, the rest knew that he wouldn’t have any clear answers until morning came.
If it came.
“He was just worried about you.”
And then Alan refocused.
“So,” he sighed, resting his hands in his hips, “how’re you feeling?”
The silence which followed was finally broken by Ximena’s question, which Alan quickly realized that he didn’t have a proper answer for.
“I… um, yeah. Austin’s gone.” He replied, trying to erase the puzzled look from his face as he turned to face her once again. Part of him wondered what Austin had been trying to tell him, the rest knew that he wouldn’t have any clear answers until morning came.
If it came.
“He was just worried about you.”
And then Alan refocused.
“So,” he sighed, resting his hands in his hips, “how’re you feeling?”
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Carrion Queen
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"Woof, worrying about me seems like full time job; I've got dumb bitch disease," she said with an air of a joke but with the unmistakable look of being shaken.
There wasn't enough time or bandwidth to ask more questions or investigate. Maybe Austin just made peace with Alan and went back to wherever he was. He must have been doing something right to make it this far. She hoped that's what happened.
"I'm okay," she said quietly, eyes drawn down.
Ximena took a moment to regather her bearings. She took a deep breath and swallowed. Her sight drifted to a piece of rebar that must have broken off during the explosion the previous day. She slowly walked up to it and picked it up, tapping it against her foot.
"So I'm one of your people, huh?" she said, testing the rebar like a batter looking at a bat. "I guess that means I better do the traditional dance of your people: violence and petty vandalism." The smile was audible in her voice.
There wasn't enough time or bandwidth to ask more questions or investigate. Maybe Austin just made peace with Alan and went back to wherever he was. He must have been doing something right to make it this far. She hoped that's what happened.
"I'm okay," she said quietly, eyes drawn down.
Ximena took a moment to regather her bearings. She took a deep breath and swallowed. Her sight drifted to a piece of rebar that must have broken off during the explosion the previous day. She slowly walked up to it and picked it up, tapping it against her foot.
"So I'm one of your people, huh?" she said, testing the rebar like a batter looking at a bat. "I guess that means I better do the traditional dance of your people: violence and petty vandalism." The smile was audible in her voice.
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Catche Jagger
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Calling Ximena one of “his people” had felt like it had been a bit of an embellishment for the sake of letting Austin go easy. After all, Alan didn’t have a history with her like he had with Crispin and the others. However, he couldn’t really come up with a proper alternative for his own ends. Business associate? Survival partner? Seemed more like a joke than anything trying to fit it into a formal box out here.
When Ximena picked up the rebar, Alan knew it was time for business.
“I mean who knows,” Alan began, taking a few steps to plant himself directly in front of her, “it might just suit you. I bet you could run a real mean hustle too. All you gotta do is put your mind to it.”
With that, Alan delivered a poke to the center of Ximena’s forehead and gave her what she needed.
Then he took a real big step backward, giving her some space.
When Ximena picked up the rebar, Alan knew it was time for business.
“I mean who knows,” Alan began, taking a few steps to plant himself directly in front of her, “it might just suit you. I bet you could run a real mean hustle too. All you gotta do is put your mind to it.”
With that, Alan delivered a poke to the center of Ximena’s forehead and gave her what she needed.
Then he took a real big step backward, giving her some space.
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Carrion Queen
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Let’s further discuss Emile Durkheim’s 1897 methodological study, Suicide (or Le Suicide if you want to be French about it. And no jokes about sociology as a lesser discipline, the man's already dead).
Alan touched Ximena in the center of her forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed in rhythm with the electric shock shooting from the top of her head, down through her limbs, and to the ground. When she opened her eyes she felt invisible sparks coming off her skin.
I feel it. Oh, I feel it.
Reality pleasantly bent and bubbled. They stood at the area near the top of the stairs leading down to the recesses. Looking further away at the windows and building cracks, she could see the daylight’s falling star.
Emile Durkheim outlined four different causes of suicide: egoistic, altruistic, anomic, and fatalistic. In our previous discussion we covered egoistic and anomic. Though he said this of anomic suicide, it’s holds true outside of that context:
“Irrespective of any external regulator force, our capacity for feeling is in itself an insatiable and bottomless abyss.”
Sometimes the French just know.
Now, altruistic. This is loss of life such as a sacrifice or a martyrdom.
She felt the rebar in her grip and looked up at the camera lens. They watched each other.
Her lungs expanded to their fullest and slowly compressed.
I’m afraid. Hypocrite.
Ximena turned back to look at Alan who had moved to a cautious distance.
Any last words?
“You… don’t have to be good. You don’t have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting," she said. The blood was rushing in her ears. “You only have to let the soft animal of your body… love what it loves."
Ximena put one glowing hand on her collar and with the other she swung an arc up with the rebar, crashing into the camera. The time around her neck slowed as slow as she could possibly muster. The equipment came tumbling down, clattering to the ground in pieces.
Alan touched Ximena in the center of her forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed in rhythm with the electric shock shooting from the top of her head, down through her limbs, and to the ground. When she opened her eyes she felt invisible sparks coming off her skin.
I feel it. Oh, I feel it.
Reality pleasantly bent and bubbled. They stood at the area near the top of the stairs leading down to the recesses. Looking further away at the windows and building cracks, she could see the daylight’s falling star.
Emile Durkheim outlined four different causes of suicide: egoistic, altruistic, anomic, and fatalistic. In our previous discussion we covered egoistic and anomic. Though he said this of anomic suicide, it’s holds true outside of that context:
“Irrespective of any external regulator force, our capacity for feeling is in itself an insatiable and bottomless abyss.”
Sometimes the French just know.
Now, altruistic. This is loss of life such as a sacrifice or a martyrdom.
She felt the rebar in her grip and looked up at the camera lens. They watched each other.
Her lungs expanded to their fullest and slowly compressed.
I’m afraid. Hypocrite.
Ximena turned back to look at Alan who had moved to a cautious distance.
Any last words?
“You… don’t have to be good. You don’t have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting," she said. The blood was rushing in her ears. “You only have to let the soft animal of your body… love what it loves."
Ximena put one glowing hand on her collar and with the other she swung an arc up with the rebar, crashing into the camera. The time around her neck slowed as slow as she could possibly muster. The equipment came tumbling down, clattering to the ground in pieces.
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HELPful_Crow
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And in response, the collar began to grind itself apart, slowed in its action by the disturbance of time around Ximena's head.
The metal split, enough that it was no longer bound to Ximena's neck, but it did not fly apart just yet.
Ximena had given herself a second, but only one.
The metal split, enough that it was no longer bound to Ximena's neck, but it did not fly apart just yet.
Ximena had given herself a second, but only one.
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Carrion Queen
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As soon as she heard the grind, Ximena let herself intentionally fall. She collapsed to the ground and found she was lit up by several points of newfound pain.
I'm... alive?
A piece of the shrapnel had lodged into her left palm that she'd held up near her neck. Another piece of metal sliced a shallow wound through her left eyebrow. A third piece of shrapnel cut through, leaving some white jawbone visible near her chin. One last piece of shrapnel sliced her in the upper right thigh.
She groaned as she hit the floor, blood leaking from her wounds and covering the front of her white camisole. Ximena was bloody and in pain, but she was free.
The slowed time allowed her to avoid most of the deadly shrapnel.
"Fuck. That fucking sucks," she groaned and pulled herself over to her bag and haphazardly pulled the medical kit out.
Ximena looked back at Alan and put both hands out to signal for him not to come closer, inadvertently showing him the one hand with the metal stuck in it. If he came too close, they might decide to blow his collar up just to kill the both of them.
"Okay. Okay. Okay."
The adrenaline was pumping. She grabbed the shrapnel in her hand and yanked it on in one motion, yelping. Ximena tore into an antiseptic wipe, smushed it against her hand (she hissed like a leaking tire), wound some gauze around it and tested it. The hand didn't really move much. But when she concentrated, it still glowed.
Good enough.
"Heartwarming! Delinquent and cam girl beat terrorism!" she said shakily while she put antiseptic on her face and slapped on band aids like they would disappear after 60 seconds.
She would have to start running while it was dark out. It would become that much harder to keep running during daylight and easier for their captors to find them.
I'm... alive?
A piece of the shrapnel had lodged into her left palm that she'd held up near her neck. Another piece of metal sliced a shallow wound through her left eyebrow. A third piece of shrapnel cut through, leaving some white jawbone visible near her chin. One last piece of shrapnel sliced her in the upper right thigh.
She groaned as she hit the floor, blood leaking from her wounds and covering the front of her white camisole. Ximena was bloody and in pain, but she was free.
The slowed time allowed her to avoid most of the deadly shrapnel.
"Fuck. That fucking sucks," she groaned and pulled herself over to her bag and haphazardly pulled the medical kit out.
Ximena looked back at Alan and put both hands out to signal for him not to come closer, inadvertently showing him the one hand with the metal stuck in it. If he came too close, they might decide to blow his collar up just to kill the both of them.
"Okay. Okay. Okay."
The adrenaline was pumping. She grabbed the shrapnel in her hand and yanked it on in one motion, yelping. Ximena tore into an antiseptic wipe, smushed it against her hand (she hissed like a leaking tire), wound some gauze around it and tested it. The hand didn't really move much. But when she concentrated, it still glowed.
Good enough.
"Heartwarming! Delinquent and cam girl beat terrorism!" she said shakily while she put antiseptic on her face and slapped on band aids like they would disappear after 60 seconds.
She would have to start running while it was dark out. It would become that much harder to keep running during daylight and easier for their captors to find them.
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Catche Jagger
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Once Ximena had put her hand to her collar, Alan made sure to duck just a little further back, anticipating that the more distance herself had from her, the better chance he had of staying out of the fucking splash zone, whether that splash was explosives or metal or gore.
Ximena swung the rebar, he closed his eyes, held his breath.
It all went so quickly and when his eyes were opened again, he saw that Ximena was on the ground. In that moment, Alan was certain that not only her, but everyone else trapped in the desert was doomed.
But then he heard her groan, saw movement, and he remembered to breathe again. Alan’s first instinct was to rush to her, not sure whether he needed to run over with medical supplies or just hug the girl that might just be the key to saving all their sorry asses. He didn’t make a move, though, as he saw Ximena’s injured hand raised towards him and he caught the meaning.
Still, fucked up as she was, Alan balled his hands into fists and brought them up to his chest, pumping them tight to his core as he remembered to breathe once again.
“Yes! Fuck!” He hissed, keeping his jaw clamped shut as he did. It felt for a bit like he might start crying, that everything would just start pouring out and there’d be no way to close it back up. After all this shit, after the kidnapping and the deaths and betrayals and the complete and utter horseshit that had made up the past few days might actually have a chance of ending. Still, he managed to keep it together.
Ximena even managed to make a crack about their situation, which further evidenced that he might have misjudged her emotional strength when they first met. He couldn’t bring himself to do the same.
“Once you’re… Just run, alright? I’m gonna stay up as long as I can so you can keep that boost. If it cuts out, well, don’t worry about it. I probably just fucked up and fell asleep. Just keep going until you find somebody.” Alan kept his gaze squarely focused on her as he spoke, keeping his voice as steady as he could, taking another deep breath as he finished.
He thought for a moment, looking her over one more time.
“When I get outta here, you’re gonna owe me a water, alright? So you’d better keep safe.” Alan spoke up once more, pulling the water bottle he’d stolen from Austin from his pack and gently tossing it her way.
Ximena swung the rebar, he closed his eyes, held his breath.
It all went so quickly and when his eyes were opened again, he saw that Ximena was on the ground. In that moment, Alan was certain that not only her, but everyone else trapped in the desert was doomed.
But then he heard her groan, saw movement, and he remembered to breathe again. Alan’s first instinct was to rush to her, not sure whether he needed to run over with medical supplies or just hug the girl that might just be the key to saving all their sorry asses. He didn’t make a move, though, as he saw Ximena’s injured hand raised towards him and he caught the meaning.
Still, fucked up as she was, Alan balled his hands into fists and brought them up to his chest, pumping them tight to his core as he remembered to breathe once again.
“Yes! Fuck!” He hissed, keeping his jaw clamped shut as he did. It felt for a bit like he might start crying, that everything would just start pouring out and there’d be no way to close it back up. After all this shit, after the kidnapping and the deaths and betrayals and the complete and utter horseshit that had made up the past few days might actually have a chance of ending. Still, he managed to keep it together.
Ximena even managed to make a crack about their situation, which further evidenced that he might have misjudged her emotional strength when they first met. He couldn’t bring himself to do the same.
“Once you’re… Just run, alright? I’m gonna stay up as long as I can so you can keep that boost. If it cuts out, well, don’t worry about it. I probably just fucked up and fell asleep. Just keep going until you find somebody.” Alan kept his gaze squarely focused on her as he spoke, keeping his voice as steady as he could, taking another deep breath as he finished.
He thought for a moment, looking her over one more time.
“When I get outta here, you’re gonna owe me a water, alright? So you’d better keep safe.” Alan spoke up once more, pulling the water bottle he’d stolen from Austin from his pack and gently tossing it her way.
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Carrion Queen
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Ximena put one hand on the wound on the lower side of her face and one hand on her thigh wound. They both glowed. Time sped forward as fast as she could push it; her flesh started to mend a bit.
She could stop the bleeding and heal a little by accelerating time, but while she could speed up time, she couldn’t waste it. Ximena would have to get moving.
“Mmhm," she mumbled, nodding and looking at Alan, who told her to run and told her he'd give her as good a chance as he could.
She didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to run up to him and jump on him and wrap her arms around him and pinch his cheeks and smush his weird hair and pull on his Party City fake gold chains and yell about how they did it, they’d succeeded. And he would probably hate that. But if she went near him, they might kill them both.
Ximena didn’t know if they would ever see each other again, but she hoped very hard that they would.
She pulled her hands away from her wounds, which had healed somewhat with her Gift, and grabbed hold of the water he rolled to her.
“Please -- just -- please stay alive," she said simply, looking through a thin film of tears. "Please," she begged.
Ximena stood, shoved the water into her bag, and took off running like he'd told her to.
((Ximena Rodriguez continued in The Night is My Friend ))
She could stop the bleeding and heal a little by accelerating time, but while she could speed up time, she couldn’t waste it. Ximena would have to get moving.
“Mmhm," she mumbled, nodding and looking at Alan, who told her to run and told her he'd give her as good a chance as he could.
She didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to run up to him and jump on him and wrap her arms around him and pinch his cheeks and smush his weird hair and pull on his Party City fake gold chains and yell about how they did it, they’d succeeded. And he would probably hate that. But if she went near him, they might kill them both.
Ximena didn’t know if they would ever see each other again, but she hoped very hard that they would.
She pulled her hands away from her wounds, which had healed somewhat with her Gift, and grabbed hold of the water he rolled to her.
“Please -- just -- please stay alive," she said simply, looking through a thin film of tears. "Please," she begged.
Ximena stood, shoved the water into her bag, and took off running like he'd told her to.
((Ximena Rodriguez continued in The Night is My Friend ))
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Catche Jagger
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“Yeah. You too.” Alan nodded, but Ximena had already started running, once again with inhuman speed. She was gone, and he was alone again.
Another deep breath. Now all he had to do was stay awake for as long as he could manage to give Ximena the head start she’d need to avoid whatever the fucking furries might throw at her.
Moving away from the staircase, Alan wandered down the darkened hall a ways before dipping into a small room which appeared to his left. It was important that he spend the evening avoiding anything too dangerous and, he decided, that was best accomplished by hiding out in some dark corner of this place, isolated from the others.
Once he was inside, Alan began to pace gingerly around the room, careful not to make too much noise. Sitting down would likely make it harder for anyone to notice his presence, but it would also be easier for his body to give in to sleep.
Alan needed to stay awake.
((Alan Melnyk continued elsewhere…))
Another deep breath. Now all he had to do was stay awake for as long as he could manage to give Ximena the head start she’d need to avoid whatever the fucking furries might throw at her.
Moving away from the staircase, Alan wandered down the darkened hall a ways before dipping into a small room which appeared to his left. It was important that he spend the evening avoiding anything too dangerous and, he decided, that was best accomplished by hiding out in some dark corner of this place, isolated from the others.
Once he was inside, Alan began to pace gingerly around the room, careful not to make too much noise. Sitting down would likely make it harder for anyone to notice his presence, but it would also be easier for his body to give in to sleep.
Alan needed to stay awake.
((Alan Melnyk continued elsewhere…))
