Zach looked out, his heartrate slowly beginning to fall, his breathing slowly catching up, everything started to come back into focus as his eyes got alot less blurry. And finally he could think. He had around three shots left in the shotgun. It took 6, one had been fired before, and he doubted Ali had reloaded, and he'd shot two of them.
Three shots was not a good number, considering reloading really wasn't n option here, and his backup weapons consisted of two swords and his fists, neither of which would hold any water against a gun.
He pulled them out and laid them beside him on the flat.
If only he had some duct tape, he could probably make a beast of a bayonet out of that big oriental type sword thing.
Then a series of gunshots rang out. *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM*
He ducked instinctively, trying to get behind something.
One of them whizzed overhead, almost sounding like they were humming a tune.
He jumped up and looked around out the front before crouching down, letting the after image tell him all he needed to know. He headed into a corner, where he could see the front door. She was dancing around cover again, he couldn't see her. As long as he kept his guard up and secured the front door, it'd all be fine.
Then, something clicked together, the jumbled puzzle pieces of scattered information falling together slowly.
The bullets hadn't come from the front. They'd come from the back.
Whoever was shooting was at the back.
Karen was at the back
Karen was at the back
Karen was behind him
He turned around, as quickly as he could, only to see muzzle flashes.
Bullets slammed into the wood everywhere, one sprayed wood into his face as it impacted beside his head.
Then another hit him, right in the gut again. He tried to scream, but there was no air in his lungs, he couldn't breathe.
There was a moment of panic, terror, fear as he realised he had taken another hit. Another bullet, and he couldn't breathe. Had it deflated a lung? Was he dead? If this was being dead, then being dead sucked.
A little, tiny, almost inaudiable whimper passed through his lips.
And then he could breathe.
He sucked in as big of a breath as he could and exhaled.
He wasn't dead, and he could still move. He could still fight.
He picked up the gun that he had dropped, with sweating, shaky hands. He was so hot. His mouth was dry and hot prickling energy seemed to tingle across his skin. He was really, really hot. Like, Sahara desert hot, Like Australia hot. Like "Don't go outdoors if life is your thing" hot.
He placed it weakly against his shoulder, the steel and composite machine seeming to weigh a million times what it had a few seconds ago, but he did it, and it fell into place. He could hear her breathing, heavy and stressed, and close. He brought his gun to bear towards it
"If i'm going to hell, you're gonna burn with me" He said, smiling weakly as he blatantly ripped off another, previous contestants most badass line.
And then he pulled the trigger.
Pieces of What?
Open: Day 3.
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3449
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
As Zach spoke, Karen realized she had done something, had accomplished something. He was hurting, was speaking irrationally. He had determined, it seemed, that they would die together. That told her things about him. It spoke volumes about his state of mind, his motivations. This was, to some degree, all about emotions for him. It was all about getting the last laugh, getting his payback. He would prefer both of them dying to one getting away. That was something Karen could not understand. Had she been dying, had she been bleeding out with a killer standing over her, she felt fairly sure she wouldn't have fired on them unless it could have saved her. Sure, she'd have killed instantly for the slimmest whisper of a hope of survival. The difference was, she didn't really care for death, didn't really enjoy causing pain and mayhem. Revenge was not a concept she easily grasped. Anger, yes, she understood anger, though she had not been angry in her time on the island.
Not until now.
She'd learned more than enough about revenge, about the lengths to which people would go for payback. She knew what they would sacrifice. She knew that they would risk a lot. She knew that, for someone convinced they were about to die, there was nothing left to lose. Zach wasn't going to let her go, wasn't going to loosen his grip and let her slip through his fingers, never mind that he could be doing better things with his time. He was going to try to bring her with him. She couldn't even say if he was actually seriously injured, but it didn't matter. He thought he was, and he was going to take it out on her.
Karen realized that she was in a poor position with enough time to take two steps, forward and the right. It was almost enough. The gun roared, and a spray of pellets tore through the wall where she had been. She didn't see them, of course, just felt the force impact her back and pitch her to the ground. There was pain, but it was not major. It was not coming from her back. The wetness, however, was. Her upper arms were stinging, burning, but that was something to worry about later. Her back was soaking. There was no pain. She had to do something, had to react, had to move, had to figure out what was wrong. It was all too much.
She pressed her hand to her back, yanked it away, expecting to see blood. That was not what she got.
Water. She was still wearing her backpack. The spray had good power, but Zach had been on the other end of the room. He'd fired through a large distance of open air, then through a wall. That had been plenty to slow the shot enough for her backpack—stuffed to overflowing with all the food and water and weaponry she had looted over her stay—to prevent any damage to her torso. She wasn't dying. She'd taken at least some injury to her shoulders and arms, but that, too, had been tempered by the cover Zach had shot through. She wasn't about to drop dead.
But she couldn't keep doing this. She couldn't keep fighting someone who had given up on living. Zach had all the advantages, held all the cards. Karen was fighting to live, while Zach was simply trying to kill her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to tear her hair. She wanted to vent her frustrations in a storm of bullets, to tear everything apart that stood between her and her goal.
She didn't even try. She realized, after a split second's reflection, that she still had one trick up her sleeve, still had one thing that she could use to her advantage. She could force Zach to back off, could force him to let her go. She didn't understand why people were risking their lives for their friends, didn't understand their priorities in the slightest, but she did know that those priorities were there. She knew that Zach cared for those other people, that he cared for them deeply, enough to risk his life to save theirs. That was enough.
"Zach," she called. "I just remembered that anyone not on my team works as my tenth. Race you?"
And then she was off. She ran backwards at the start, firing off the remaining bullets in her Glock, draining her gun with four pulls of the trigger. She had to keep Zach from getting a good look at things until she could get behind cover. She had to keep him unsure of where she was. She ducked over a small sand drift, crouched low, and waited for a moment. If all had gone well, Zach wouldn't be behind her.
He would be running back to his friends, trying to save them from Karen. Of course, she had no intention of going after them. There were many people left on this island. Any was as good as another. She could leave Zach jumping at shadows, could leave him and his friends paralyzed by fear, while she slipped away to deal with her wounds and find someone helpless and unarmed to kill. That was the smart choice. She didn't have to worry about Zach, about any rematch or his eventual fate, because she would be away by then.
Of course, depending on the eventual other survivor, she might have to see about carrying a gun even after she got out.
Those were thoughts for the future. For now, Karen had blood running down her arms, had her breaths coming in ragged gasps, had a burning feeling whenever she moved quickly or inhaled. Her priority was survival. That meant not dying from this. That meant getting somewhere and surveying the damage.
She moved, not bothering with speed, prioritizing stealth this time. She wasn't angry anymore. She wasn't anything. She was just shaking and trying not to give her position away.
She half expected a shot to punch through her at any moment. It never happened.
((Karen Ruiz continued in And Yet So Far))
Not until now.
She'd learned more than enough about revenge, about the lengths to which people would go for payback. She knew what they would sacrifice. She knew that they would risk a lot. She knew that, for someone convinced they were about to die, there was nothing left to lose. Zach wasn't going to let her go, wasn't going to loosen his grip and let her slip through his fingers, never mind that he could be doing better things with his time. He was going to try to bring her with him. She couldn't even say if he was actually seriously injured, but it didn't matter. He thought he was, and he was going to take it out on her.
Karen realized that she was in a poor position with enough time to take two steps, forward and the right. It was almost enough. The gun roared, and a spray of pellets tore through the wall where she had been. She didn't see them, of course, just felt the force impact her back and pitch her to the ground. There was pain, but it was not major. It was not coming from her back. The wetness, however, was. Her upper arms were stinging, burning, but that was something to worry about later. Her back was soaking. There was no pain. She had to do something, had to react, had to move, had to figure out what was wrong. It was all too much.
She pressed her hand to her back, yanked it away, expecting to see blood. That was not what she got.
Water. She was still wearing her backpack. The spray had good power, but Zach had been on the other end of the room. He'd fired through a large distance of open air, then through a wall. That had been plenty to slow the shot enough for her backpack—stuffed to overflowing with all the food and water and weaponry she had looted over her stay—to prevent any damage to her torso. She wasn't dying. She'd taken at least some injury to her shoulders and arms, but that, too, had been tempered by the cover Zach had shot through. She wasn't about to drop dead.
But she couldn't keep doing this. She couldn't keep fighting someone who had given up on living. Zach had all the advantages, held all the cards. Karen was fighting to live, while Zach was simply trying to kill her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to tear her hair. She wanted to vent her frustrations in a storm of bullets, to tear everything apart that stood between her and her goal.
She didn't even try. She realized, after a split second's reflection, that she still had one trick up her sleeve, still had one thing that she could use to her advantage. She could force Zach to back off, could force him to let her go. She didn't understand why people were risking their lives for their friends, didn't understand their priorities in the slightest, but she did know that those priorities were there. She knew that Zach cared for those other people, that he cared for them deeply, enough to risk his life to save theirs. That was enough.
"Zach," she called. "I just remembered that anyone not on my team works as my tenth. Race you?"
And then she was off. She ran backwards at the start, firing off the remaining bullets in her Glock, draining her gun with four pulls of the trigger. She had to keep Zach from getting a good look at things until she could get behind cover. She had to keep him unsure of where she was. She ducked over a small sand drift, crouched low, and waited for a moment. If all had gone well, Zach wouldn't be behind her.
He would be running back to his friends, trying to save them from Karen. Of course, she had no intention of going after them. There were many people left on this island. Any was as good as another. She could leave Zach jumping at shadows, could leave him and his friends paralyzed by fear, while she slipped away to deal with her wounds and find someone helpless and unarmed to kill. That was the smart choice. She didn't have to worry about Zach, about any rematch or his eventual fate, because she would be away by then.
Of course, depending on the eventual other survivor, she might have to see about carrying a gun even after she got out.
Those were thoughts for the future. For now, Karen had blood running down her arms, had her breaths coming in ragged gasps, had a burning feeling whenever she moved quickly or inhaled. Her priority was survival. That meant not dying from this. That meant getting somewhere and surveying the damage.
She moved, not bothering with speed, prioritizing stealth this time. She wasn't angry anymore. She wasn't anything. She was just shaking and trying not to give her position away.
She half expected a shot to punch through her at any moment. It never happened.
((Karen Ruiz continued in And Yet So Far))
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
As Shawn ran to her side Mae didn't know what to do first. She wanted to throw her arms around him and drag him down, make sure that Karen couldn't hurt him anymore. Instead she simply tried to smile, took his hand, and led him to a safer place, which, in stark contrast to the old "Team Gold Fort" only had a small empty looking shack. She pulled him in and down. Out of sight. They had to hide. Mae looked at him. A selfish part of her kept her hand in his if only so that she could have the comfort of another person's flesh on hers, if only for a moment.
Karen didn't seem interested in that, and she was grateful for Zach for distracting her, maybe for once his homicidal tendencies would truly come to real use. The thought was purely and horrifically mercenary of her, but she allowed it to happen. Maybe Zach could kill Karen, if he did she would reward him somehow.
But if only she could keep Shawn with her as well, if only she could make him see.
"He's been protecting me," she whispered to him. "He's been protecting me this entire time, and sometimes...sometimes I didn't need protecting."
Her voice almost cracked as she spoke, thinking of Harold and Ali, and God knows whoever else he killed to get back to her.
"I never wanted any of it."
She stamped down the feelings of Zach possibly having use, Shawn wasn't the type to be so manipulative, and she didn't want to tain the purity of spirit she had come to admire in him, instead she turned to look at the precise moment Zach took a rather....ugly hit in the chest. Or was it the stomach? Mae couldn't see very well from her position, but she gasped nonetheless, instantly her heart ripped in half.
Her first feeling was fear, sadness, it didn't look good, how could it possibly look good? Any wound was truly bad news on the island but a wound like that?
Her second, louder feeling was...she didn't want to admit it. Relief.
Oh thank God I won't have to do it, she thought. Thank God it won't have to be me.
Nonetheless she found herself immediately getting to her feet and starting towards the door, ripping her hand out of Shawn's and running towards Zach's side.
He might be dying. She thought.
Then I'll need to get the shotgun back.
Karen didn't seem interested in that, and she was grateful for Zach for distracting her, maybe for once his homicidal tendencies would truly come to real use. The thought was purely and horrifically mercenary of her, but she allowed it to happen. Maybe Zach could kill Karen, if he did she would reward him somehow.
But if only she could keep Shawn with her as well, if only she could make him see.
"He's been protecting me," she whispered to him. "He's been protecting me this entire time, and sometimes...sometimes I didn't need protecting."
Her voice almost cracked as she spoke, thinking of Harold and Ali, and God knows whoever else he killed to get back to her.
"I never wanted any of it."
She stamped down the feelings of Zach possibly having use, Shawn wasn't the type to be so manipulative, and she didn't want to tain the purity of spirit she had come to admire in him, instead she turned to look at the precise moment Zach took a rather....ugly hit in the chest. Or was it the stomach? Mae couldn't see very well from her position, but she gasped nonetheless, instantly her heart ripped in half.
Her first feeling was fear, sadness, it didn't look good, how could it possibly look good? Any wound was truly bad news on the island but a wound like that?
Her second, louder feeling was...she didn't want to admit it. Relief.
Oh thank God I won't have to do it, she thought. Thank God it won't have to be me.
Nonetheless she found herself immediately getting to her feet and starting towards the door, ripping her hand out of Shawn's and running towards Zach's side.
He might be dying. She thought.
Then I'll need to get the shotgun back.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
[[OOC: Thanks for putting up with my busy schedule you guys. I will be super-fast at posting from here on out.]]
For one brief moment, Shawn Morrison thought he was done for. The handgun, pointed in close range with the front of it staring back at him really didn't leave any room for hope. Shawn closed his eyes, braced himself and waited for Karen to squeeze the trigger.
What he expected was something loud to signal his end. What he heard instead did happen to be loud, but it wasn't bullets shooting from the muzzle of Karen Ruiz's weapon of choice. It was Zach. Right at that moment, Shawn's eyes snapped open in surprise and also confusion. Karen hadn't finished the job. Zach was yelling. He had threatened Shawn's attacker, saying his name and telling her that she would die, if Shawn dies. Her response to him confirmed to Shawn, that she was in fact Karen Ruiz and that she had planned to make him her number ten.
Shawn didn't know exactly why, Zach was risking his own skin to save his, but whatever the case may be, Zach had managed to turn Karen's focus away from Shawn, to himself. Should he run now? He wasn't sure. The girl kept looking back at him, but with every step Zach took toward her, the less attention she had on him. How could he move out of the way safely and where was he going to go anyway? A little flash of motion and Shawn realized that Mae was nearby as well. Her movements were subtle, but she was motioning him to get away from the potential firefight. To follow her.
His only thoughts were to run away from the girl who was trying to kill him and even though Zach and possibly Mae was playing the game; the fact remained that they were both trying to save his life. So he took the offer. He inched away slowly at first keeping an eye on Karen and when he thought he was out of their cross-hair he moved faster, running toward Mae.
As soon as Shawn got to her, she grabbed his arm and started running, leading him away from Zach and Karen, right as the first few bullets exploded into the air.
Everything was happening so fast. It seemed to all go by in a FLASH.
A voice out of nowhere - the same one he heard speak to him at the hotel was basically telling him and Mae to not get involved with the gun fight. No complaints there.
More pops were going off behind them and even louder cracks, presumably from the bigger gun Zach was carrying. Shawn had no idea what was going on. Who was winning. He focused on running, following Mae as she pulled him by the hand until she found somewhere to hide. Then she spoke to him. Shawn kept silent and only listened. It was really difficult to comprehend exactly what she was trying to say, with the constant sound of the firefight going on.
Leopold had been killed mere minutes earlier and that image of blood still hadn't left him. The moment Karen had continued to chase and pursue him was quite possibly the most terrifying experience of Shawn's young life. Now this. Shawn just wanted this nightmare to stop.
There was one final loud boom, then silence. Karen was running away with a bloody arm. Had Zach scared her off? At least she was gone. It was over, at least for now.
Mae started to move, leaving him alone. Shawn briefly considered leaving too. But then... Mae, along with Zach was the reason he was still alive. It would be wrong to just leave. He had to make sure they were alright. Thank them. He decided to follow after Mae.
What he saw wasn't what he wanted to see. A sense of guilt flowed through him.
For one brief moment, Shawn Morrison thought he was done for. The handgun, pointed in close range with the front of it staring back at him really didn't leave any room for hope. Shawn closed his eyes, braced himself and waited for Karen to squeeze the trigger.
What he expected was something loud to signal his end. What he heard instead did happen to be loud, but it wasn't bullets shooting from the muzzle of Karen Ruiz's weapon of choice. It was Zach. Right at that moment, Shawn's eyes snapped open in surprise and also confusion. Karen hadn't finished the job. Zach was yelling. He had threatened Shawn's attacker, saying his name and telling her that she would die, if Shawn dies. Her response to him confirmed to Shawn, that she was in fact Karen Ruiz and that she had planned to make him her number ten.
Shawn didn't know exactly why, Zach was risking his own skin to save his, but whatever the case may be, Zach had managed to turn Karen's focus away from Shawn, to himself. Should he run now? He wasn't sure. The girl kept looking back at him, but with every step Zach took toward her, the less attention she had on him. How could he move out of the way safely and where was he going to go anyway? A little flash of motion and Shawn realized that Mae was nearby as well. Her movements were subtle, but she was motioning him to get away from the potential firefight. To follow her.
His only thoughts were to run away from the girl who was trying to kill him and even though Zach and possibly Mae was playing the game; the fact remained that they were both trying to save his life. So he took the offer. He inched away slowly at first keeping an eye on Karen and when he thought he was out of their cross-hair he moved faster, running toward Mae.
As soon as Shawn got to her, she grabbed his arm and started running, leading him away from Zach and Karen, right as the first few bullets exploded into the air.
Everything was happening so fast. It seemed to all go by in a FLASH.
A voice out of nowhere - the same one he heard speak to him at the hotel was basically telling him and Mae to not get involved with the gun fight. No complaints there.
More pops were going off behind them and even louder cracks, presumably from the bigger gun Zach was carrying. Shawn had no idea what was going on. Who was winning. He focused on running, following Mae as she pulled him by the hand until she found somewhere to hide. Then she spoke to him. Shawn kept silent and only listened. It was really difficult to comprehend exactly what she was trying to say, with the constant sound of the firefight going on.
Leopold had been killed mere minutes earlier and that image of blood still hadn't left him. The moment Karen had continued to chase and pursue him was quite possibly the most terrifying experience of Shawn's young life. Now this. Shawn just wanted this nightmare to stop.
There was one final loud boom, then silence. Karen was running away with a bloody arm. Had Zach scared her off? At least she was gone. It was over, at least for now.
Mae started to move, leaving him alone. Shawn briefly considered leaving too. But then... Mae, along with Zach was the reason he was still alive. It would be wrong to just leave. He had to make sure they were alright. Thank them. He decided to follow after Mae.
What he saw wasn't what he wanted to see. A sense of guilt flowed through him.
A voice echoes, rather smugly, from Zach's collar...
"You should have taken orders because my orders would have kept you breathing."
"You should have taken orders because my orders would have kept you breathing."
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
He heard footsteps running away, frantic, terrified stamps on the wood. Then the shallow thump of distant impacts on sand.
Had... Had he wounded her? Had he killed her? He hoped he had. He'd grazed her eariler and, if she was still out there, she'd be mad. She might try and get Mae or Shawn.
He let go of the weapon that was still gripped in his hand tightly, and it clunked to the floor, the polymer and wooden shell smacking down.
He swallowed a shallow, shuddering breath, and drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them tightly as he tried not to look at the source of the slowly forming pool of blood that was taking shape underneath him. He didn't want to see it. He'd seen gunshot wounds before, and even the non fatal ones made him feel just a little sick.
He was feeling lightheaded too, like you'd expect after pushing yourself to the limits, when every one of your muscles burn and your lungs feel like they're made of sandpaper, only somehow, worse.
He looked up, and saw two people standing there, looking at him. He hadn't heard them come in. That was disconcerting enough. But with the adrenaline pumping, his eyes dialated and he reflexively jerked away, like a scared animal. Grunting lightly with pain as he did so, as he stretched the skin on his injured side.
Then, recognition hit him. It was Shawn, Mae, Friends.
He turned away from them, subconciously trying to hide his weak side from them.
"Hi" He said quietly in greeting of them. "You guys 'kay?"
Just as he finished saying this, his collar crackled into life again
"You should have taken orders because my orders would have kept you breathing."
The voice sounded smug, almost happy that he'd taken a bullet.
"Fuck you, bitch, I ain't gonna die..." He turned to Mae, his voice sound softer, loosing all of the anger he had put in it first, now almost becoming a whimper "Am I?"
Had... Had he wounded her? Had he killed her? He hoped he had. He'd grazed her eariler and, if she was still out there, she'd be mad. She might try and get Mae or Shawn.
He let go of the weapon that was still gripped in his hand tightly, and it clunked to the floor, the polymer and wooden shell smacking down.
He swallowed a shallow, shuddering breath, and drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them tightly as he tried not to look at the source of the slowly forming pool of blood that was taking shape underneath him. He didn't want to see it. He'd seen gunshot wounds before, and even the non fatal ones made him feel just a little sick.
He was feeling lightheaded too, like you'd expect after pushing yourself to the limits, when every one of your muscles burn and your lungs feel like they're made of sandpaper, only somehow, worse.
He looked up, and saw two people standing there, looking at him. He hadn't heard them come in. That was disconcerting enough. But with the adrenaline pumping, his eyes dialated and he reflexively jerked away, like a scared animal. Grunting lightly with pain as he did so, as he stretched the skin on his injured side.
Then, recognition hit him. It was Shawn, Mae, Friends.
He turned away from them, subconciously trying to hide his weak side from them.
"Hi" He said quietly in greeting of them. "You guys 'kay?"
Just as he finished saying this, his collar crackled into life again
"You should have taken orders because my orders would have kept you breathing."
The voice sounded smug, almost happy that he'd taken a bullet.
"Fuck you, bitch, I ain't gonna die..." He turned to Mae, his voice sound softer, loosing all of the anger he had put in it first, now almost becoming a whimper "Am I?"
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
Zach was a mess, and Mae bit her lip to keep from sobbing at the sight of him. Was it a sob of relief? Of horror? Why couldn't it just be both? She looked over at Shawn and found herself incredibly happy that he hadn't left yet, left her like Michael probably had.
There was a girl's blood on her hands, and the blood of so many others. All of this was because of the boy at her feet. All of this had come down to Zach's puppy-like devotion, a need to protect her even when she did not need protecting.
Now it ended. God. Now it ended. Now Zach was staring up at her with hope in his eyes and he was asking for hope. Mae was just tired of running. Mae was tired of running and the misunderstandings and the feelings and the sadness and the feeling alone. She was tired of the distance and the lack of touching and how sometimes she just wanted to scream. She was tired of the blood and viscera and the fore and how she now knew what the inside of a spinal column looked like. She was tired of how wary Shawn still seemed of her, how she just couldn't make him understand that she wasn't playing the game, she just wanted to stay alive.
She was tired of the fact that she had lost him to get a key to escape, and now what had happened? Now she was staring down of the wreckage of a human being and what? Nothing. There was nothing left. There was only death.
Instead she forced a smile at Zach, shaky thought it was, frayed at the edges though it was. She knelt by Zach's side like a battlefield nurse, something she flet like she had grown all too accustomed to. She thought of Harold's locket, hanging around her neck now.
"I think," she said, trying to force herself to be convincing. "That you are going to be just fine."
There was a girl's blood on her hands, and the blood of so many others. All of this was because of the boy at her feet. All of this had come down to Zach's puppy-like devotion, a need to protect her even when she did not need protecting.
Now it ended. God. Now it ended. Now Zach was staring up at her with hope in his eyes and he was asking for hope. Mae was just tired of running. Mae was tired of running and the misunderstandings and the feelings and the sadness and the feeling alone. She was tired of the distance and the lack of touching and how sometimes she just wanted to scream. She was tired of the blood and viscera and the fore and how she now knew what the inside of a spinal column looked like. She was tired of how wary Shawn still seemed of her, how she just couldn't make him understand that she wasn't playing the game, she just wanted to stay alive.
She was tired of the fact that she had lost him to get a key to escape, and now what had happened? Now she was staring down of the wreckage of a human being and what? Nothing. There was nothing left. There was only death.
Instead she forced a smile at Zach, shaky thought it was, frayed at the edges though it was. She knelt by Zach's side like a battlefield nurse, something she flet like she had grown all too accustomed to. She thought of Harold's locket, hanging around her neck now.
"I think," she said, trying to force herself to be convincing. "That you are going to be just fine."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Early that day, Shawn had hoped for something that he now wished he had never hoped for. That hope was for Karen Ruiz to get her final three kills in quick and rapid succession, so she'd be off the island as soon as possible and by result, no longer a danger to anyone he knew or cared about here. He also hoped ideally, that Karen would take out the other killers on her way out.
He just didn't expect it to be Zach.
Now Shawn was overwhelmed with a sense of guilt. What he wanted had actually happened and he felt like crap. He didn't want it to happen the way it did. Karen may very well be on her way off the island now. She had taken the life of one friend, in Leopold Sutherland right in front of his eyes and now by the looks of things, Zach as well.
Shawn didn't want to look at it, the wound, it was too horrible. Blood was leaking slowly from Zach onto the floor, adding to that of Leopold' corpse on the other side of the small boat. Shawn tried to keep his eyes up and away, but he knew he needed to look at Zach sooner or later. He was still alive, but he was in pain, dying and he needed help or at the very least, support.
"Hi" He said quietly in greeting of them. "You guys 'kay?"
Right then and there, Shawn had nearly teared up. Zach was asking Mae and himself if they were ok. He simply nodded.
Then a silent, but smug voice came from what seemed out of nowhere, the same way the mysterious voice at the hotel and a few minutes ago at this beach. This wasn't the same voice, however as it was certainly more feminine and didn't speak in riddles. Shawn originally thought he had been freaking out, that it was his snake friend, Brian Eno that spoke to him, but he now realized what was going on. For whatever reason that Shawn wasn't aware about earlier; people had been speaking to them and giving advice through their collars. Only thing was, that unlike the guy who was trying to help him, confusing as he may be, Zach's seemed to be happy that he was dying. How could somebody be so heartless about something like this? Especially when it was a kid you were supposed to help. Admittedly, Shawn felt a slight surge of anger start to rise within him, with Zach's own outburst punctuating the feeling for him.
But it was gone the moment Zach's tone changed to a sad, defeated one. Mae said he would be fine, but Shawn knew that wasn't entirely the truth. He understood it though; she was trying to keep his spirits up, keeping a smile on her face for him, to make dealing with this easier. Keeping him happy and comfortable even if he was dying.
For all of this, Shawn, felt guilty, that he was somehow responsible for all of this and in a way it was true. Zach was dying now, because he had risked his own life to save his.
"Zach. Thank you for saving my..." He looked at Mae, reached out for her hand. "Our lives."
His attention was back to Zach's face, in his crouch, as Shawn avoided looking at the large bloody bullet wound. He looked at Zach's face and did his best to push his lips into a small, comforting, closed mouth smile. It was tough, because deep down, Shawn was very broken up about all of this.
"I.. really appreciate everything you've done man. I... understand what you've been doing."
Zach was only doing what he needed and had to do, to protect people he cared about and survive even if said methods involved killing. Shawn understood that now. In fact hadn't Shawn done the same thing himself, when he strangled Jaszmine Johnson, with a snake of all things to save Ben Grayson's life? Sure, Shawn was nowhere near as prolific as Zach was, but the idea was still there. Zach was just trying to do some good.
"There has to be something I can do to help."
Shawn opened his bag, trying to figure out what to do to help. Even if it was futile, Shawn had to at least attempt to do something. He pulled out his first aid kit, as a blunt rolled out as well.
He just didn't expect it to be Zach.
Now Shawn was overwhelmed with a sense of guilt. What he wanted had actually happened and he felt like crap. He didn't want it to happen the way it did. Karen may very well be on her way off the island now. She had taken the life of one friend, in Leopold Sutherland right in front of his eyes and now by the looks of things, Zach as well.
Shawn didn't want to look at it, the wound, it was too horrible. Blood was leaking slowly from Zach onto the floor, adding to that of Leopold' corpse on the other side of the small boat. Shawn tried to keep his eyes up and away, but he knew he needed to look at Zach sooner or later. He was still alive, but he was in pain, dying and he needed help or at the very least, support.
"Hi" He said quietly in greeting of them. "You guys 'kay?"
Right then and there, Shawn had nearly teared up. Zach was asking Mae and himself if they were ok. He simply nodded.
Then a silent, but smug voice came from what seemed out of nowhere, the same way the mysterious voice at the hotel and a few minutes ago at this beach. This wasn't the same voice, however as it was certainly more feminine and didn't speak in riddles. Shawn originally thought he had been freaking out, that it was his snake friend, Brian Eno that spoke to him, but he now realized what was going on. For whatever reason that Shawn wasn't aware about earlier; people had been speaking to them and giving advice through their collars. Only thing was, that unlike the guy who was trying to help him, confusing as he may be, Zach's seemed to be happy that he was dying. How could somebody be so heartless about something like this? Especially when it was a kid you were supposed to help. Admittedly, Shawn felt a slight surge of anger start to rise within him, with Zach's own outburst punctuating the feeling for him.
But it was gone the moment Zach's tone changed to a sad, defeated one. Mae said he would be fine, but Shawn knew that wasn't entirely the truth. He understood it though; she was trying to keep his spirits up, keeping a smile on her face for him, to make dealing with this easier. Keeping him happy and comfortable even if he was dying.
For all of this, Shawn, felt guilty, that he was somehow responsible for all of this and in a way it was true. Zach was dying now, because he had risked his own life to save his.
"Zach. Thank you for saving my..." He looked at Mae, reached out for her hand. "Our lives."
His attention was back to Zach's face, in his crouch, as Shawn avoided looking at the large bloody bullet wound. He looked at Zach's face and did his best to push his lips into a small, comforting, closed mouth smile. It was tough, because deep down, Shawn was very broken up about all of this.
"I.. really appreciate everything you've done man. I... understand what you've been doing."
Zach was only doing what he needed and had to do, to protect people he cared about and survive even if said methods involved killing. Shawn understood that now. In fact hadn't Shawn done the same thing himself, when he strangled Jaszmine Johnson, with a snake of all things to save Ben Grayson's life? Sure, Shawn was nowhere near as prolific as Zach was, but the idea was still there. Zach was just trying to do some good.
"There has to be something I can do to help."
Shawn opened his bag, trying to figure out what to do to help. Even if it was futile, Shawn had to at least attempt to do something. He pulled out his first aid kit, as a blunt rolled out as well.
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
He heard her words. Her hesitation. Her inabillity to look him in the eyes. The way she couldn't look at him at all.
He... Wasn't going to be going home, was he?
He looked down, at his feet, but then abruptly looked back up. Looking at his blood made him feel really ill. It was frothy, bright red, almost pink. Like a jacuzzi of his own blood, swirling around on the floor.
His face was even more pale than usual, and he held suitcases underneath each one of his eyes, not just bags. There wasn't any glinting green in them anymore either, his eyes were almost completely black, deep dark holes filled with fear and terror, hidden beneath his eyelids like the monsters beneath the bed and in the closet, as he squeezed them shut to block out the pain.
Shawn began to speak, thanking him for saving his life. Their lives.
"It's..." He paused for a second, gathering his breath. "It's okay. I... I keep my promises"
He made towards him, breaking open the first aid kit.
"Don't worry about that. I... Don't think theres anything that can help in there" He said, his last few words breaking up slightly, as his body tried to cry. He didn't want to cry. He wasn't going to cry. He had to stay strong. Then he saw the little blunt roll out from the bag, and a little, wobbly smile came to his lips, and he reached out to grab it, just managing to place it in between two fingers and pulled it a little closer to him.
"You don't happen to have a light, do you?" he asked.
When Shawn leaned down to pass it to him, he spoke again, his voice a little softer, and a lot quieter.
"Shawn... Promise me you'll take care of her... Please?.. You were always better for her anyway"
He... Wasn't going to be going home, was he?
He looked down, at his feet, but then abruptly looked back up. Looking at his blood made him feel really ill. It was frothy, bright red, almost pink. Like a jacuzzi of his own blood, swirling around on the floor.
His face was even more pale than usual, and he held suitcases underneath each one of his eyes, not just bags. There wasn't any glinting green in them anymore either, his eyes were almost completely black, deep dark holes filled with fear and terror, hidden beneath his eyelids like the monsters beneath the bed and in the closet, as he squeezed them shut to block out the pain.
Shawn began to speak, thanking him for saving his life. Their lives.
"It's..." He paused for a second, gathering his breath. "It's okay. I... I keep my promises"
He made towards him, breaking open the first aid kit.
"Don't worry about that. I... Don't think theres anything that can help in there" He said, his last few words breaking up slightly, as his body tried to cry. He didn't want to cry. He wasn't going to cry. He had to stay strong. Then he saw the little blunt roll out from the bag, and a little, wobbly smile came to his lips, and he reached out to grab it, just managing to place it in between two fingers and pulled it a little closer to him.
"You don't happen to have a light, do you?" he asked.
When Shawn leaned down to pass it to him, he spoke again, his voice a little softer, and a lot quieter.
"Shawn... Promise me you'll take care of her... Please?.. You were always better for her anyway"
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
Mae had always prided herself on her stoic bearing. She never cried at those silly old romantic movies, she never cried when her feet hurt so badly after ballet practice that she felt like she'd never walk again. Sure, she had cried when Shawn thought she was a murderer and ran without giving her any sort of benefit of the doubt, but she had lost him then. Throughout the game as she saw death after death, she thought of her mother, obviously watching, and she prayed that she was proud at her daughter's ability to keep it together.
But she flet tears welling up in the back of her throat now as Zach tried to light the blunt, she knew it must hurt, she knew that at least that would take the pain away.
That terrible voice inside her, the one that sounded so selfish, wondered who would help her now. Did she need it? Could she do anything on her own? Zach had protected her, misguided though he had been...and now what? Shawn had thought she was a murderer, but now he had reached for her hand.
The tears began to fall. Were they of some sort of half hearted happiness that he was willing to put that aside? A fraction of her heart still ached at his lack of faith in her, he had killed too....
None of that mattered as Zach lay obviously dying, there would be plenty of time for them to talk after. Whenever it happened.
Zach looked up at Shawn. "Shawn... Promise me you'll take care of her... Please?.. You were always better for her anyway"
Was that even the case? She thought back at the party, the fragments of Zach, that amazing time with Shawn, the electricity she felt when he touched her. They were on the same team now. Once again Zach had been shunted aside for what? Why did it always ever have to be one or the other? Why did Mae ever have to belong to anyone?
Couldn't she just belong to herself? She had fared just fine when Shawn had let to go and do whatever he had done...and had come back alone.
But was THAT even true? Wasn't Michael there to protect and flirt with her? Didn't Harold even love her a little bit? Why did it always come down to that? She kept her eyes soft as he looked down at Zach, none of that mattered now. What was the use of all of this frustration now?
She couldn't say anything, only waited for Shawn's response. Did she want Shawn to take care of her?
Did she want Shawn? Her heart slammed against her ribcage at the thought of it. Being safe. Belonging.
Maybe.
She gently touched Zach's forehead, feeling a sort of sick, cold perspiration clinging there. Oh God, he must be in so much pain.
But she flet tears welling up in the back of her throat now as Zach tried to light the blunt, she knew it must hurt, she knew that at least that would take the pain away.
That terrible voice inside her, the one that sounded so selfish, wondered who would help her now. Did she need it? Could she do anything on her own? Zach had protected her, misguided though he had been...and now what? Shawn had thought she was a murderer, but now he had reached for her hand.
The tears began to fall. Were they of some sort of half hearted happiness that he was willing to put that aside? A fraction of her heart still ached at his lack of faith in her, he had killed too....
None of that mattered as Zach lay obviously dying, there would be plenty of time for them to talk after. Whenever it happened.
Zach looked up at Shawn. "Shawn... Promise me you'll take care of her... Please?.. You were always better for her anyway"
Was that even the case? She thought back at the party, the fragments of Zach, that amazing time with Shawn, the electricity she felt when he touched her. They were on the same team now. Once again Zach had been shunted aside for what? Why did it always ever have to be one or the other? Why did Mae ever have to belong to anyone?
Couldn't she just belong to herself? She had fared just fine when Shawn had let to go and do whatever he had done...and had come back alone.
But was THAT even true? Wasn't Michael there to protect and flirt with her? Didn't Harold even love her a little bit? Why did it always come down to that? She kept her eyes soft as he looked down at Zach, none of that mattered now. What was the use of all of this frustration now?
She couldn't say anything, only waited for Shawn's response. Did she want Shawn to take care of her?
Did she want Shawn? Her heart slammed against her ribcage at the thought of it. Being safe. Belonging.
Maybe.
She gently touched Zach's forehead, feeling a sort of sick, cold perspiration clinging there. Oh God, he must be in so much pain.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
When Zach took the roll and wanted to light up, Shawn almost grinned. In this way, he was helping Zach have a slightly more pleasant... Death.
Zach was right. There was really nothing in the first aid kit to help with that injury. It was too wide, too deep and on one of the worst possible locations of the body. Then he started to speak, telling Shawn to watch over and take care of Mae for him.
"Yeah, of course man. You know I wil-" Shawn started to say, but Zach wasn't finished speaking. "...You were always better for her anyway." He said.
Shawn froze, silent for a moment, then shook his head.
"Don't say that, Zach... you were the one really always there for her and thought about her foremost."
He paused then spoke again. Trying to keep his mind collected, from this depressing moment, resisting the urge to tear up. He needed to be strong for all of them, but Zach was making this very difficult.
"Hey dude, remember the party where I pulled Mae out of the pool? Well, I wanted to see if she was doing fine. When I went to the doorway that night, I saw someone say... something to her. That guy, really cared alot about Mae, yeah? Didn't want to get between what I saw there. I've always believed that, it was that guy who was always the better guy, you know?"
He looked at Mae for a second and then turned back to Zach. "I just didn't realize until we got here, that the guy, was you."
It was now, that Shawn's eyes began to get quite watery again, but he wiped them dry with his forearm and managed a small chuckle.
"Huha... This is Heavy."
Zach was right. There was really nothing in the first aid kit to help with that injury. It was too wide, too deep and on one of the worst possible locations of the body. Then he started to speak, telling Shawn to watch over and take care of Mae for him.
"Yeah, of course man. You know I wil-" Shawn started to say, but Zach wasn't finished speaking. "...You were always better for her anyway." He said.
Shawn froze, silent for a moment, then shook his head.
"Don't say that, Zach... you were the one really always there for her and thought about her foremost."
He paused then spoke again. Trying to keep his mind collected, from this depressing moment, resisting the urge to tear up. He needed to be strong for all of them, but Zach was making this very difficult.
"Hey dude, remember the party where I pulled Mae out of the pool? Well, I wanted to see if she was doing fine. When I went to the doorway that night, I saw someone say... something to her. That guy, really cared alot about Mae, yeah? Didn't want to get between what I saw there. I've always believed that, it was that guy who was always the better guy, you know?"
He looked at Mae for a second and then turned back to Zach. "I just didn't realize until we got here, that the guy, was you."
It was now, that Shawn's eyes began to get quite watery again, but he wiped them dry with his forearm and managed a small chuckle.
"Huha... This is Heavy."
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
He struggled for a moment, flicking the flint weakly, until a few sparks shot out, and the butane light up. He brought it to the rollie that sat limply between his two tightly compressed lips, and it to lit. He let go of the button and placed it on the floor, before breathing in as big of a mouthful of smoke as he could, before he coughed it back out.
He felt a little better. In the back of his mind, he was telling himself that this was just the placebo effect, that weed wasn't even a pain killer. But he really needed it. He was on the brink now. The pain was all consuming, it burned everything. Every inch of skin, every stretch of muscle, every emotion.
But he couldn't give in. He had to stay strong.
Shawn said that he'd help her. Keep her safe. Thank god.
Atleast she'd have someone who was good enough for her.
He was even kind enough to pity him. To pretend that he had been good enough. He smiled at that, a true smile, no matter how pain tightened, a genuine smile. He patted him as solidly on the back as he could, in a show of comradeship. He... Was glad someone like this was going to be taking care of her. And guilty, for being jealous of him.
He looked up at Mae, over the top of him.
"Mae... On the second day, I... I asked you a question you didn't know the answer to... Do... Do you know now?" He asked.
He needed to know. One way or the other.
He felt a little better. In the back of his mind, he was telling himself that this was just the placebo effect, that weed wasn't even a pain killer. But he really needed it. He was on the brink now. The pain was all consuming, it burned everything. Every inch of skin, every stretch of muscle, every emotion.
But he couldn't give in. He had to stay strong.
Shawn said that he'd help her. Keep her safe. Thank god.
Atleast she'd have someone who was good enough for her.
He was even kind enough to pity him. To pretend that he had been good enough. He smiled at that, a true smile, no matter how pain tightened, a genuine smile. He patted him as solidly on the back as he could, in a show of comradeship. He... Was glad someone like this was going to be taking care of her. And guilty, for being jealous of him.
He looked up at Mae, over the top of him.
"Mae... On the second day, I... I asked you a question you didn't know the answer to... Do... Do you know now?" He asked.
He needed to know. One way or the other.
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peregrineink*
- Posts: 322
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:39 am
Mae felt the mask begin to slip back on her face, the hard emotionless mas of what she She Be Doing. Or What Was Right. Of Who She Should Be. That mask told her to sit quietly and hold Shawn's hand while Zach died. That mask told her to be quiet. That mask told her that it was completely ridiculous that so many people cared about her and her well being anyway. Keep your head down, St. Clair. Survive.
Instead she glanced at Shawn. Then she looked at Zach. She found herself talking.
"For my entire life I've always cared about doing the right thing, Zach. My entire life, I've always concerned myself with what was correct and what I'm supposed to do. I had to be popular, I had to do what was correct by the standards that were set for me. You were my exception." She felt her face grow warm when she said this, a smile of affection come to her lips as she spoke. "When you came to see me dance I was so happy, none of my friends had ever bothered to watch me. Such old and stupid stuff they used to always say. You came. And I always found myself so glad that they weren't here, but you ended up in here with me."
She reached out with her free hand and slipped it into Zach's.
"I knew you would never kill me, that you would keep me safe. I wouldn't believe it from anyone else but you."
She meant these words, and it was the best she could give him. "For my entire life I've always tried to be correct and right, but as soon as I met you, you've always made me want to follow my heart," she finally added.
Mae knew that this might not be enough for a dying Zach to accept, so she leaned over to kiss his cheek lightly.
"So yes Zach, I love you. You've set me free."
It wasn't 100% true, and it broke her heart to say it, but she knew it would make him happy. And that was what mattered at this point!
Instead she glanced at Shawn. Then she looked at Zach. She found herself talking.
"For my entire life I've always cared about doing the right thing, Zach. My entire life, I've always concerned myself with what was correct and what I'm supposed to do. I had to be popular, I had to do what was correct by the standards that were set for me. You were my exception." She felt her face grow warm when she said this, a smile of affection come to her lips as she spoke. "When you came to see me dance I was so happy, none of my friends had ever bothered to watch me. Such old and stupid stuff they used to always say. You came. And I always found myself so glad that they weren't here, but you ended up in here with me."
She reached out with her free hand and slipped it into Zach's.
"I knew you would never kill me, that you would keep me safe. I wouldn't believe it from anyone else but you."
She meant these words, and it was the best she could give him. "For my entire life I've always tried to be correct and right, but as soon as I met you, you've always made me want to follow my heart," she finally added.
Mae knew that this might not be enough for a dying Zach to accept, so she leaned over to kiss his cheek lightly.
"So yes Zach, I love you. You've set me free."
It wasn't 100% true, and it broke her heart to say it, but she knew it would make him happy. And that was what mattered at this point!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler peregrineink. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Shawn realized that Mae and Zach needed a moment alone together. He slowly stood up, put a hand to Mae's upper back and nodded quietly at Zach before standing up. He didn't move very far, knowing he might be needed at any second. He remained in the building but walked to a different area of the room.
On the floor was Leopold Sutherland, in a large puddle of blood. The site was so disturbing, that Shawn suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Shawn sat quietly on the edge of the boat looking down at his fallen friend, disappointed that he couldn't do anything to stop this from happening. A feeling flowed through him again, similar to the one he felt at the hotel when he heard that Holly was killed and when Jaszmine threatened to shoot Ben-o.
Shawn was aware of the realities of the game. He needed to be assertive, less of a pushover, in order to stop people from harming the folks he knew and liked. And... in order to survive. He knew that now. This wasn't some paid vacation.
[[OOC: Hey guys feel free to skip me to get what you need done.]]
On the floor was Leopold Sutherland, in a large puddle of blood. The site was so disturbing, that Shawn suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Shawn sat quietly on the edge of the boat looking down at his fallen friend, disappointed that he couldn't do anything to stop this from happening. A feeling flowed through him again, similar to the one he felt at the hotel when he heard that Holly was killed and when Jaszmine threatened to shoot Ben-o.
Shawn was aware of the realities of the game. He needed to be assertive, less of a pushover, in order to stop people from harming the folks he knew and liked. And... in order to survive. He knew that now. This wasn't some paid vacation.
[[OOC: Hey guys feel free to skip me to get what you need done.]]
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 375
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
He smiled at her. She had loved him. Did love him. Would love him.
He felt her warm breath against his cheek, and he almost shrunk away from it, scared of her almost, scared of his dreams. And then he felt her lips press against his cheek, and there was a rush of emotions.
And then, there was another wetness on his cheek. Both of his cheeks.
It was what should've been the happiest moment of his life, and yet, he was crying.
He didn't know why. Didn't understand.
And then, he realised why he did, as he looked into Mae's eyes.
He didn't want to die.
He choked up. Each choke sent ripples in the blood, and pain through his side.
And then he cried, wept. Tears streaming down his cold face.
"Im scared, Mae. I'm so, so scared... I don't wanna die... I'm so scared..." He whimpered out between tears, his quiet voice tinged with pain and fear
He felt her warm breath against his cheek, and he almost shrunk away from it, scared of her almost, scared of his dreams. And then he felt her lips press against his cheek, and there was a rush of emotions.
And then, there was another wetness on his cheek. Both of his cheeks.
It was what should've been the happiest moment of his life, and yet, he was crying.
He didn't know why. Didn't understand.
And then, he realised why he did, as he looked into Mae's eyes.
He didn't want to die.
He choked up. Each choke sent ripples in the blood, and pain through his side.
And then he cried, wept. Tears streaming down his cold face.
"Im scared, Mae. I'm so, so scared... I don't wanna die... I'm so scared..." He whimpered out between tears, his quiet voice tinged with pain and fear