((Dylan Walker continued from Listenlistenlisten!))
She didn't stop running for a long time. Though sometimes it was less running and more stumbling around in a drunken fashion, especially when the pain in her head flared up or she just plain ran out of breath. But she put distance between herself and those other girls. And, of course, Brigid.
She didn't hear people following her, but it was hard to tell with all the noise that running through a forest makes. All the crunchy leaves and whatnot. Once she reached the river, though, and turned around to check, she didn't see anything.
Her jacket was covered in blood now. It was going all hard and brown like the blood on her scarf. As Dylan slowed down to a walk, she rubbed her hands where blood had stained her palms and dug its way into the little creases.
I didn't do anything wrong.
She stopped by the river and sat down on the bank, gazing at the water.
That's just the game. Do what you have to do. Kill who you have to kill.
She scraped away some of the crusted blood with her fingernails. It didn't feel like there was any less on her hands.
Hell, that's America in a nutshell. Kill and shove around the inferior people, because... well, if they deserved it they'd be able to stop us. It's fine. I should be fine with this.
Dylan removed her scarf and dipped the end of it in the river. She started using the wet part of the scarf to rub off the blood. It was cold, but the other option was using her water rations.
Why don't I feel fine with this?
She closed her eyes, she saw Brigid. Brigid falling over, Brigid yelling at her to wait, Brigid's face becoming a pile of bloody mush. It shouldn't have mattered. She was just some Irish girl. Some leprechaun. But she wanted this blood off her hands, and she wanted this... seething, revolting feeling in her stomach to go away.
Once her hands were... sort of clean... Dylan flopped backwards to lie on the bank. She needed rest. It'd been a long... how long had it been? Not that long. It felt like days. Weeks. But it hadn't even been twelve hours, it couldn't have been.
The side of Dylan's face felt kind of sticky, as well. She touched the side and came away with more blood. Her bandages weren't holding up so well. But now she had the means to change the bandages. And painkillers!
Dylan unzipped the bag. Peering into it, she pulled out the first box she saw.
Wheaties. Fucking wheaties.
Breakfast of champions, huh? Guess that didn't work out for you, Brigid.
Dylan let out a snort of laughter, before another wave of revulsion swept through her stomach. She pushed the wheaties aside and located the first-aid box.
She spent the next few minutes redoing the bandage on her head (tossing aside the bloody, used bandages, because this valley was going to be covered in corpses soon enough, so who cared about a bit of litter) and locating the painkillers in the first-aid kit. Once she'd taken the painkillers, she picked up one of the bottles of water and retrieved the lump of bread from inside her jacket. She settled down and started with her little meal.
Just a bit of rest. And then she could figure out where to go from here.
Out, Damned Spot!
Open
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ViolentMedic
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delicateMachine
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((Ashley Sydor: Continued from Listenlistenlisten!))
"Dammit, I didn't think this through at all, did I?" Ashley sighed, tiredly leaning against a tree. All her time spent jogging had definitely increased her stamina, but she still had limits. The fact that she had spent the last few minutes sitting down, incredibly out of breath, was a testament to that.
Dylan might not have been the best runner around, but she had still gotten a head start on Ashley. That, combined with with the terrain, had meant that Ash had lost track of her fairly quickly. She had halfheartedly tried to track Dylan's trail, but as Ashley wasn't anything near an outdoorsman, she had given up in frustration after a couple minutes.
What had even been her plan once she caught Dylan, anyway? "Justice"? That was all well and good when you were incredibly pissed and working more off of emotions than anything else, but given the situation there wasn't exactly anything Ash could even do . If she had handcuffs or something, sure, but with nothing but a snuggie? Aaron's lasso would have come in handy, right about now. Ash was still angry at herself for getting lost in the first place.
There was still no way that Ashley was going to hurt anyone, not even a murderer like Dylan. You kill them, you become just like them, right? A cliche, but it still rang true, especially in circumstances like this.
The fuck had happened to Dylan, anyway? What had caused her to be so desperate? Ashley had never been too close to her (bullying was wrong! Just because minorities, along with everyone else, were inferior to Americans didn't mean you should torment them! Hell, wasn't it the responsibility of a superior person to care for those less able than them?) but she seemed like a very friendly, nice girl! Well, if you weren't a minority, at least.
Dylan had definitely been hurt, though. Could that have been part of it? Could she have been attacked by someone (Christ, was everyone going insane?), and thus been caught in a vicious cycle? Did it really just take one bad day to make someone snap?
Ash had been incredibly lucky, in comparison. She woke up in relative safety, found friends, had a plan! Sure, that all got fucked up in short order, but she hadn't been attacked, hadn't even been threatened! If Ashley had gone through whatever Dylan had, would that have been enough to cause her to kill, too? Regardless of her friends, regardless of Marley, regardless of basic humanity?
She was so caught up in thought that she failed to notice that she had come to a small stream. Ash also didn't see the large-ish rock in her path, which she promptly tripped over, landing on her hands and knees, skinning them both.
"Ow! Fuck, fuck, motherfu-" Ash let out a loud, pained stream of obscenities, abruptly cutting short once she got back on her feet and realized that, in the distance, but definitely still within earshot, a girl was sitting by the bank. Wait. Isn't that- oh shit, it's Dylan! Well, it looks like Ash had found her, after all!
Argh, why couldn't she have just stayed with her group, like a smart person? She wouldn't have just (probably) caught the attention of a killer that she had no good way of dealing with!
"Dammit, I didn't think this through at all, did I?" Ashley sighed, tiredly leaning against a tree. All her time spent jogging had definitely increased her stamina, but she still had limits. The fact that she had spent the last few minutes sitting down, incredibly out of breath, was a testament to that.
Dylan might not have been the best runner around, but she had still gotten a head start on Ashley. That, combined with with the terrain, had meant that Ash had lost track of her fairly quickly. She had halfheartedly tried to track Dylan's trail, but as Ashley wasn't anything near an outdoorsman, she had given up in frustration after a couple minutes.
What had even been her plan once she caught Dylan, anyway? "Justice"? That was all well and good when you were incredibly pissed and working more off of emotions than anything else, but given the situation there wasn't exactly anything Ash could even do . If she had handcuffs or something, sure, but with nothing but a snuggie? Aaron's lasso would have come in handy, right about now. Ash was still angry at herself for getting lost in the first place.
There was still no way that Ashley was going to hurt anyone, not even a murderer like Dylan. You kill them, you become just like them, right? A cliche, but it still rang true, especially in circumstances like this.
The fuck had happened to Dylan, anyway? What had caused her to be so desperate? Ashley had never been too close to her (bullying was wrong! Just because minorities, along with everyone else, were inferior to Americans didn't mean you should torment them! Hell, wasn't it the responsibility of a superior person to care for those less able than them?) but she seemed like a very friendly, nice girl! Well, if you weren't a minority, at least.
Dylan had definitely been hurt, though. Could that have been part of it? Could she have been attacked by someone (Christ, was everyone going insane?), and thus been caught in a vicious cycle? Did it really just take one bad day to make someone snap?
Ash had been incredibly lucky, in comparison. She woke up in relative safety, found friends, had a plan! Sure, that all got fucked up in short order, but she hadn't been attacked, hadn't even been threatened! If Ashley had gone through whatever Dylan had, would that have been enough to cause her to kill, too? Regardless of her friends, regardless of Marley, regardless of basic humanity?
She was so caught up in thought that she failed to notice that she had come to a small stream. Ash also didn't see the large-ish rock in her path, which she promptly tripped over, landing on her hands and knees, skinning them both.
"Ow! Fuck, fuck, motherfu-" Ash let out a loud, pained stream of obscenities, abruptly cutting short once she got back on her feet and realized that, in the distance, but definitely still within earshot, a girl was sitting by the bank. Wait. Isn't that- oh shit, it's Dylan! Well, it looks like Ash had found her, after all!
Argh, why couldn't she have just stayed with her group, like a smart person? She wouldn't have just (probably) caught the attention of a killer that she had no good way of dealing with!
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ViolentMedic
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Dylan was interrupted during her snack by a crashing noise and a bunch of swearing that quickly cut off. Dylan looked behind her to see Ashley Sydor on her hands and knees near the trees nearby. Dylan clambered to her feet quickly, just in case.
She didn't see any weapons on Ashley. And to be honest, she wasn't currently that worried. Ashley was nice. Of course, stuff like that changed in the Program, but... well, it was better than one of the minority-haters... or one of the minorities or minority sympathizers (Ash was sort of in that last category, but at least she recognised that they were inferior) running out of the bushes.
Being overly nice was, of course, a stupid thing to do in the Program, but hey. If Ashley stayed nice, who was Dylan to object? Made stuff easier for her. And it meant that Dylan wouldn't have to club her to death, too. That was a good thing. Dylan actually liked Ashley.
"'Sup, Ashley?" Dylan called out. Though at the same time she discreetly edged closer to her supplies, just in case. She could be temporarily welcoming, but she wasn't going to be stupid.
She quietly pushed the bloody rock that was her weapon behind the bag with her foot, just out of sight.
She didn't see any weapons on Ashley. And to be honest, she wasn't currently that worried. Ashley was nice. Of course, stuff like that changed in the Program, but... well, it was better than one of the minority-haters... or one of the minorities or minority sympathizers (Ash was sort of in that last category, but at least she recognised that they were inferior) running out of the bushes.
Being overly nice was, of course, a stupid thing to do in the Program, but hey. If Ashley stayed nice, who was Dylan to object? Made stuff easier for her. And it meant that Dylan wouldn't have to club her to death, too. That was a good thing. Dylan actually liked Ashley.
"'Sup, Ashley?" Dylan called out. Though at the same time she discreetly edged closer to her supplies, just in case. She could be temporarily welcoming, but she wasn't going to be stupid.
She quietly pushed the bloody rock that was her weapon behind the bag with her foot, just out of sight.
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delicateMachine
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Wait, what?
Ashley blinked, somewhat confused. Dylan had reacted far less violently than expected. There was a startling lack of attempted bludgeoning. She was acting like nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.
Come to think of it, had Dylan actually ever noticed Ashley in the forest? It'd been such a blur of panic and activity, after all, and Ash hadn't actually said anything before Dylan made her getaway. This situation might not turn out as incredibly horrible as she had feared!
As much as she wanted to call Dylan out, there really wasn't any obvious way to get out of that without anyone getting hurt. Ash was a better runner than Dylan, and in a physical confrontation her size probably gave her an advantage, but again, hurting anyone, even Dylan, was a last resort of such epic proportions that commuting Sudoku listed higher on Ash's priority list (Sudoku was a terrible fate to wish on anyone!).
Thus, doing her best to push away all thoughts of the blood, the hatred, the girl lying dead on the ground, Ashley smiled as genuine a smile as she could. All those years of acting came in handy for something besides shenanigans, for once! "Yo, Dylan!" Ash shouted cheerfully, walking closer to her. "Nice to see that you're okay-" She paused, pretending to notice Dylan's injuries for the first time. "Christ, the hell happened to you? You look like shit, no offense intended!"
It'd be interesting to hear her excuse, at least.
Ashley blinked, somewhat confused. Dylan had reacted far less violently than expected. There was a startling lack of attempted bludgeoning. She was acting like nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.
Come to think of it, had Dylan actually ever noticed Ashley in the forest? It'd been such a blur of panic and activity, after all, and Ash hadn't actually said anything before Dylan made her getaway. This situation might not turn out as incredibly horrible as she had feared!
As much as she wanted to call Dylan out, there really wasn't any obvious way to get out of that without anyone getting hurt. Ash was a better runner than Dylan, and in a physical confrontation her size probably gave her an advantage, but again, hurting anyone, even Dylan, was a last resort of such epic proportions that commuting Sudoku listed higher on Ash's priority list (Sudoku was a terrible fate to wish on anyone!).
Thus, doing her best to push away all thoughts of the blood, the hatred, the girl lying dead on the ground, Ashley smiled as genuine a smile as she could. All those years of acting came in handy for something besides shenanigans, for once! "Yo, Dylan!" Ash shouted cheerfully, walking closer to her. "Nice to see that you're okay-" She paused, pretending to notice Dylan's injuries for the first time. "Christ, the hell happened to you? You look like shit, no offense intended!"
It'd be interesting to hear her excuse, at least.
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ViolentMedic
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Yep. Friendly.
Dylan put on her smile (it was a little strained, but she was getting better at it again, as long as she didn't think about Brigid's caved-in face) and waved.
“Nice to see you, too. Fucked up situation, eh?” Stay casual. Casual is the mark of a person who hasn't or isn't about to club someone's brains in. Dylan plopped back down onto the ground, though still trying to keep the bloody rock shielded from view. She'd like to go a little while without someone judging her or trying to punch her in the face.
There probably wouldn't be much chance of that after the announcement.
“Oh, and as for... you know.” Dylan gestured at the bandages that had been plastered around her head. “I got shot. Robbed twice. Pushed down the slopes. Robbed again of shit I just picked up. Kicked in the chest. You know, typical... game of death things.
“So, uh, what's up with you?” Dylan patted the ground next to her before returning to her meal. “You can stay for a while and all.”
Dylan put on her smile (it was a little strained, but she was getting better at it again, as long as she didn't think about Brigid's caved-in face) and waved.
“Nice to see you, too. Fucked up situation, eh?” Stay casual. Casual is the mark of a person who hasn't or isn't about to club someone's brains in. Dylan plopped back down onto the ground, though still trying to keep the bloody rock shielded from view. She'd like to go a little while without someone judging her or trying to punch her in the face.
There probably wouldn't be much chance of that after the announcement.
“Oh, and as for... you know.” Dylan gestured at the bandages that had been plastered around her head. “I got shot. Robbed twice. Pushed down the slopes. Robbed again of shit I just picked up. Kicked in the chest. You know, typical... game of death things.
“So, uh, what's up with you?” Dylan patted the ground next to her before returning to her meal. “You can stay for a while and all.”
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delicateMachine
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After a moment of hesitation, Ashley cautiously slung her bag off of her shoulder and sat down, though she made sure that she was still a reasonably safe distance away. Dylan seemed to be surprisingly calm, given the circumstances, but Ash'd rather not be in arm's reach of her.
Ashley didn't really know why she had decided to stay, even for a little bit. Sure, Dylan was friendly now, but was it just a ploy to catch Ash with her guard down? Maybe, maybe not. She'd just have to trust Dylan, she guessed. Was trusting a confirmed murderer really that smart of an idea? Of course not, but there was still a small part of Ash hoping that there was still something redeemable left in Dylan.
Dylan was a girl that Ash had seen almost every day for the past few years, passing by in the halls, sharing a couple classes, talking to every once in a while. In short, she had been a regular part of Ashley's life. Not a large part, but a part nevertheless. It was sort of comforting to pretend that things were normal-ish again, if only for a little while.
Ashley winced sympathetically as Dylan described her experience thus far. Christ, she'd actually been shot? While still no excuse, it did at least put her actions in perspective. "Man, I'm sorry to hear that, Dylan. You make me seem lucky, by comparison!"
Ash sighed. "Basically, I ended up with a group of people, including my best friend. We were all gonna head to that one cabin, but since I'm a dumbass I ended up getting lost. Stumbled through the woods for a while, trying to find them, ended up finding you here." She paused for a second. "Oh, hey, you haven't seen Marley Jenkins at all, have you? I've been looking for him since I woke up. It'd be nice to be with him again for as long as possible, before... Well, you know."
Her stomach growled, and Ashley realized that she was really freaking hungry. It'd been several hours since she woke up, she had done a ton of running, and hadn't really had a chance to notice. She opened through her bag, rifling through it until she found a packet of saltines. Might not be very filling, but food was food, and she had to conserve it.
Ash opened the packet, then popped a cracker in her mouth. "So, my plan at the moment's pretty much find my boyfriend, find my friends, and then... uh, something. I'll figure it out eventually." She shrugged. "Any fancy plans for the immediate future?"
Ashley didn't really know why she had decided to stay, even for a little bit. Sure, Dylan was friendly now, but was it just a ploy to catch Ash with her guard down? Maybe, maybe not. She'd just have to trust Dylan, she guessed. Was trusting a confirmed murderer really that smart of an idea? Of course not, but there was still a small part of Ash hoping that there was still something redeemable left in Dylan.
Dylan was a girl that Ash had seen almost every day for the past few years, passing by in the halls, sharing a couple classes, talking to every once in a while. In short, she had been a regular part of Ashley's life. Not a large part, but a part nevertheless. It was sort of comforting to pretend that things were normal-ish again, if only for a little while.
Ashley winced sympathetically as Dylan described her experience thus far. Christ, she'd actually been shot? While still no excuse, it did at least put her actions in perspective. "Man, I'm sorry to hear that, Dylan. You make me seem lucky, by comparison!"
Ash sighed. "Basically, I ended up with a group of people, including my best friend. We were all gonna head to that one cabin, but since I'm a dumbass I ended up getting lost. Stumbled through the woods for a while, trying to find them, ended up finding you here." She paused for a second. "Oh, hey, you haven't seen Marley Jenkins at all, have you? I've been looking for him since I woke up. It'd be nice to be with him again for as long as possible, before... Well, you know."
Her stomach growled, and Ashley realized that she was really freaking hungry. It'd been several hours since she woke up, she had done a ton of running, and hadn't really had a chance to notice. She opened through her bag, rifling through it until she found a packet of saltines. Might not be very filling, but food was food, and she had to conserve it.
Ash opened the packet, then popped a cracker in her mouth. "So, my plan at the moment's pretty much find my boyfriend, find my friends, and then... uh, something. I'll figure it out eventually." She shrugged. "Any fancy plans for the immediate future?"
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ViolentMedic
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Huh. So not everyone was attracting the clusterfuck of bad events that Dylan was. By comparison, Ashley's time in the Program sounded like a mild inconvinience. Like a camping trip where someone had lost the map. It would explain why Ashley wasn't yet all crazy and paranoid. (Okay, paranoia wasn't really crazy in this situation. If anything, it was the saner option.)
Dylan listened quietly, chomping on her bread. When the question about Marley came up, she said, “Ginger giant? Nah, haven't seen him. Only seen a couple of guys around. Maxim and Caleb. You should watch out for Maxim, by the way. He's a gun-toting asswipe.”
Dylan wondered if warning Ash about Maxim had actually been a good idea. Wouldn't it be better to let Maxim take her out? One less person between her and survival. But... nah, seemed fair to warn her. Maybe she'd be smart enough to shoot him in the back of the head from a distance if she saw him. Although judging by Ash's current plans (find boyfriend, friends, ???, profit) it didn't seem like killing was high on her list.
“Hm. You really going to go with that plan?” Dylan said dubiously. “I mean, allies are good. But sticking around friends would just make this game a lot harder. It'd be better to find people you don't really give two shits about.”
Dylan shoved the remainder of her bread in her mouth before adding, “No offence. I mean, this is nice and all and I'll treasure the memory for the rest of my short life and all that shit, blah blah, but... you know. Don't wanna be there for the long run.”
She skirted around the question about her own plans. 'Try to outlive everyone' was both a vague plan and one that probably wouldn't sit well.
Dylan listened quietly, chomping on her bread. When the question about Marley came up, she said, “Ginger giant? Nah, haven't seen him. Only seen a couple of guys around. Maxim and Caleb. You should watch out for Maxim, by the way. He's a gun-toting asswipe.”
Dylan wondered if warning Ash about Maxim had actually been a good idea. Wouldn't it be better to let Maxim take her out? One less person between her and survival. But... nah, seemed fair to warn her. Maybe she'd be smart enough to shoot him in the back of the head from a distance if she saw him. Although judging by Ash's current plans (find boyfriend, friends, ???, profit) it didn't seem like killing was high on her list.
“Hm. You really going to go with that plan?” Dylan said dubiously. “I mean, allies are good. But sticking around friends would just make this game a lot harder. It'd be better to find people you don't really give two shits about.”
Dylan shoved the remainder of her bread in her mouth before adding, “No offence. I mean, this is nice and all and I'll treasure the memory for the rest of my short life and all that shit, blah blah, but... you know. Don't wanna be there for the long run.”
She skirted around the question about her own plans. 'Try to outlive everyone' was both a vague plan and one that probably wouldn't sit well.
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delicateMachine
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Ash wasn't that surprised that Dylan hadn't seen Marley, unfortunate as it was. The valley was pretty damn big, after all, and if someone was hidden in the trees or whatever it'd be pretty much impossible to find them. What did surprise her was the news about Maxim.
She didn't know him well, but his U.S. Flag bandanna (she still couldn't decide if that was incredibly awesome or just sorta silly) was instantly recognizable, and he'd been rather outspoken in his defense of minorities. Liked singing and dancing, too. Ash had a hard time picturing him with a gun. The dude just seemed so harmless!
"Man, thanks for the warning." Ashley said, sighing. "Dammit, you leave some people alone for ten seconds and they go ahead and turn into jackasses. I mean, I know that the Program changes things, but you'd think people'd at least try to hang onto their humanity. Life isn't really worth living if it means losing yourself, y'know?"
"Anyway, I'm just gonna blatantly ignore your advice, Dylan." She continued, shrugging. "Being around the people I care about might make it harder to 'win', but as there's pretty much no chance in hell of me making it out of this thing alive anyway, might as well live my last days as well as I can, right?"
"I wish you the best of luck, but I think it's about time for me to get going." Finishing her crackers, Ash tossed the wrapper back into her bag (worrying about littering might be sorta stupid at this point, but dammit, it would have bothered Ashley forever if she had just left it on the ground!) "Got shit to do. Finding friends, trying not to die, you know the drill."
Well, this turned out significantly less terrible than I had expected.
She didn't know him well, but his U.S. Flag bandanna (she still couldn't decide if that was incredibly awesome or just sorta silly) was instantly recognizable, and he'd been rather outspoken in his defense of minorities. Liked singing and dancing, too. Ash had a hard time picturing him with a gun. The dude just seemed so harmless!
"Man, thanks for the warning." Ashley said, sighing. "Dammit, you leave some people alone for ten seconds and they go ahead and turn into jackasses. I mean, I know that the Program changes things, but you'd think people'd at least try to hang onto their humanity. Life isn't really worth living if it means losing yourself, y'know?"
"Anyway, I'm just gonna blatantly ignore your advice, Dylan." She continued, shrugging. "Being around the people I care about might make it harder to 'win', but as there's pretty much no chance in hell of me making it out of this thing alive anyway, might as well live my last days as well as I can, right?"
"I wish you the best of luck, but I think it's about time for me to get going." Finishing her crackers, Ash tossed the wrapper back into her bag (worrying about littering might be sorta stupid at this point, but dammit, it would have bothered Ashley forever if she had just left it on the ground!) "Got shit to do. Finding friends, trying not to die, you know the drill."
Well, this turned out significantly less terrible than I had expected.
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ViolentMedic
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Dylan shrugged as well when Ashley voiced her intent to disregard everything she'd been told. Well, at least she was honest.
“Hey, there's pretty much no chance of me making it out, either. Doesn't mean I'm gonna cuddle with friends and just die. That's the loser's way out, but whatever. Your choice.”
Dylan took a swig of water and said, “Yeah. We all got shit to do, I guess. Good lu—“
She was interrupted by a loud crackling noise and the magnified, terrible humming of 'Born in the USA.'
...Well, shit.
Dylan stayed perfectly still, bottle of water raised halfway to her lips, as the announcements rolled, listening intently. She'd murdered first. Huh, that was a surprise. Given people like Maxim and Clara prancing around, she would have thought there'd be murders long before her...
She noted an absence of Louisa's name. Seemed she'd survived being shot at. Huh, pity any ally stuff was probably over now that she'd clubbed someone to death, but maybe she could find Louisa and get one of her sodas ba—
Caleb?
Really? He'd seemed so practical, the sort of guy Dylan wouldn't have minded winning. She felt... mildly... something. Annoyed? Maybe a bit sad? Although the larger part of her was wondering if Clara—ah, so Clara had shot someone fatally after all, even if they'd missed Louisa—had taken the camouflage suit.
Last one... Emily. Wait, hadn't she been in the clearing with Brigid and... Huh. Small world. Either that or Dylan was an angel of death or something.
Dylan made a note to be wary of both Clara (like she didn't know that already) and Robin Pounds. Before remembering that, right, Ash now knew she was a murderer.
“Well. This is awkward, eh?” Dylan said. She reached down and picked up the bloody rock from where it had been jammed out of sight. “So... uh, what happens now? You can just... you know, leave.”
Dylan told herself that she could do the same to Ashley as she'd done to Brigid, if Ashley insisted on making a fuss or trying to bring justice for a fallen classmate or something stupid like that. It wasn't like it'd be hard, it was supposed to get easier, wasn't it?
...She really didn't want to, though. Not right then. And not to someone who she kind of considered a friend.
Please don't do something stupid.
“Hey, there's pretty much no chance of me making it out, either. Doesn't mean I'm gonna cuddle with friends and just die. That's the loser's way out, but whatever. Your choice.”
Dylan took a swig of water and said, “Yeah. We all got shit to do, I guess. Good lu—“
She was interrupted by a loud crackling noise and the magnified, terrible humming of 'Born in the USA.'
...Well, shit.
Dylan stayed perfectly still, bottle of water raised halfway to her lips, as the announcements rolled, listening intently. She'd murdered first. Huh, that was a surprise. Given people like Maxim and Clara prancing around, she would have thought there'd be murders long before her...
She noted an absence of Louisa's name. Seemed she'd survived being shot at. Huh, pity any ally stuff was probably over now that she'd clubbed someone to death, but maybe she could find Louisa and get one of her sodas ba—
Caleb?
Really? He'd seemed so practical, the sort of guy Dylan wouldn't have minded winning. She felt... mildly... something. Annoyed? Maybe a bit sad? Although the larger part of her was wondering if Clara—ah, so Clara had shot someone fatally after all, even if they'd missed Louisa—had taken the camouflage suit.
Last one... Emily. Wait, hadn't she been in the clearing with Brigid and... Huh. Small world. Either that or Dylan was an angel of death or something.
Dylan made a note to be wary of both Clara (like she didn't know that already) and Robin Pounds. Before remembering that, right, Ash now knew she was a murderer.
“Well. This is awkward, eh?” Dylan said. She reached down and picked up the bloody rock from where it had been jammed out of sight. “So... uh, what happens now? You can just... you know, leave.”
Dylan told herself that she could do the same to Ashley as she'd done to Brigid, if Ashley insisted on making a fuss or trying to bring justice for a fallen classmate or something stupid like that. It wasn't like it'd be hard, it was supposed to get easier, wasn't it?
...She really didn't want to, though. Not right then. And not to someone who she kind of considered a friend.
Please don't do something stupid.
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delicateMachine
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"You just do what you're gonna do, I guess. Maybe it'll work out for you!" Ash shrugged. "Well, see you la- actually, no, that might not be the best thing to say. Er, how about... 'Try to stay off of the announcements?' Yeah, that works much better."
Ash was about to stand up to leave when she was startled by a rather loud crackle, followed by the most pathetic rendition of Born in the USA ever. Don't quit your day job, Program-Admin-Guy. Wait. Actually, please, please, please quit your day job, dude. Having one more terrible musician in the world, as dreadful an outcome as it was, was still (barely) preferable to The Program.
Her mind glazed over the obligatory terrible radio host banter, instead focusing only on what really mattered: the list of names, killers and kill-ees.
Please don't be dead, Marls, don't be dead, dammit! You're tough, you're smart, you're gonna be okay, right? You have to be okay!
Terrible as it was to be relieved at the deaths of others, Ash let out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding as Marley's name was not among the dead, nor among the murderers.
Brigid, Caleb, Emily.
So, that's who the girl on the ground was. Brigid. Ash didn't know her well, but she had seemed really nice! Emily, too. Caleb... she'd seen him competing at Marley's basketball games and track meets. He seemed cool. They'd all be missed. Fucking Program.
On the other hand... Dylan, America, and Robin.
Dylan... Ash couldn't bring herself to hate Dylan. As much as she hated to admit it, desperation was a powerful force, and after sitting here, talking with her... Still, Ash couldn't forgive her, not fully, not yet.
America (it took Ashley a moment to realize that was probably Clara. No wonder she didn't use her first name.) and Robin, though? Ash didn't really know either, but they seemed friendly. She didn't know the circumstances of their kills, either. Clara... the announcement had mention something about striking first. Someone to avoid, of, then. Robin, pushing someone off a cliff? Too vague to judge.
Ash noticed Dylan moving to the left of her, picking up her brick. Right, Dylan didn't know that Ashley knew about the murder. Hopefully she wouldn't do anything drastic. As Dylan simply said that Ashley could go, she smiled, somewhat relieved.
"How charitable of you! Since you don't want to hurt me, and I really don't want to hurt you, I'm just gonna leave you alone." She stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Please don't end up turning into some psycho murder-bitch, as opposed to a somewhat friendly murder-bitch, or I'm going to be very, very disappointed in you, Dylan."
Before Dylan could react at that, Ash sprinted off, following the stream. Night was falling, she needed shelter, and she had no fucking idea where anything was, besides the lake. The sheds would offer a bit of cover, and hey, maybe one of her friends had ended up going back there! All she could do was hope, really.
Hope was a powerful thing.
((Ashley Sydor: Continued in Wandering the Crystal Blue.))
Ash was about to stand up to leave when she was startled by a rather loud crackle, followed by the most pathetic rendition of Born in the USA ever. Don't quit your day job, Program-Admin-Guy. Wait. Actually, please, please, please quit your day job, dude. Having one more terrible musician in the world, as dreadful an outcome as it was, was still (barely) preferable to The Program.
Her mind glazed over the obligatory terrible radio host banter, instead focusing only on what really mattered: the list of names, killers and kill-ees.
Please don't be dead, Marls, don't be dead, dammit! You're tough, you're smart, you're gonna be okay, right? You have to be okay!
Terrible as it was to be relieved at the deaths of others, Ash let out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding as Marley's name was not among the dead, nor among the murderers.
Brigid, Caleb, Emily.
So, that's who the girl on the ground was. Brigid. Ash didn't know her well, but she had seemed really nice! Emily, too. Caleb... she'd seen him competing at Marley's basketball games and track meets. He seemed cool. They'd all be missed. Fucking Program.
On the other hand... Dylan, America, and Robin.
Dylan... Ash couldn't bring herself to hate Dylan. As much as she hated to admit it, desperation was a powerful force, and after sitting here, talking with her... Still, Ash couldn't forgive her, not fully, not yet.
America (it took Ashley a moment to realize that was probably Clara. No wonder she didn't use her first name.) and Robin, though? Ash didn't really know either, but they seemed friendly. She didn't know the circumstances of their kills, either. Clara... the announcement had mention something about striking first. Someone to avoid, of, then. Robin, pushing someone off a cliff? Too vague to judge.
Ash noticed Dylan moving to the left of her, picking up her brick. Right, Dylan didn't know that Ashley knew about the murder. Hopefully she wouldn't do anything drastic. As Dylan simply said that Ashley could go, she smiled, somewhat relieved.
"How charitable of you! Since you don't want to hurt me, and I really don't want to hurt you, I'm just gonna leave you alone." She stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Please don't end up turning into some psycho murder-bitch, as opposed to a somewhat friendly murder-bitch, or I'm going to be very, very disappointed in you, Dylan."
Before Dylan could react at that, Ash sprinted off, following the stream. Night was falling, she needed shelter, and she had no fucking idea where anything was, besides the lake. The sheds would offer a bit of cover, and hey, maybe one of her friends had ended up going back there! All she could do was hope, really.
Hope was a powerful thing.
((Ashley Sydor: Continued in Wandering the Crystal Blue.))
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 148
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:50 am
Oh no, I'll disappoint you? Because that's so much worse than death.
Before Dylan could voice her sarcastic response, Ashley sprinted off. That was nice. Less people Dylan would either have to watch die or kill herself. Dylan watched her run off until she was out of sight before turning back to the river.
In any case, Ashley needn't have worried. Dylan intended to stay non-psychotic. Maybe she'd gone... overboard with what she did to Brigid (her head was a bloody smear and you say you overreacted? Biggest understatement ever) but that'd been for a reason. She'd needed supplies. She'd needed Brigid to not take the supplies back. And any girl who waved her hands around and told people to wait when murder was clearly on the table would have died pretty fast anyway.
So, no. She had nothing to feel guilty about. It wasn't like she was enjoying this—
You did for a moment back there.
—she wasn't enjoying it at all. Dylan was not psycho. Just practical. Or else she'd be smiling easily, like... well, like Smiley.
With her meal taken care of, and Ashley gone, Dylan was a little bit unsure on what to do next. It was getting dark. Maybe she should find some place to sleep. She was feeling pretty tired at this stage... when had it gotten so dark? But she was still crusted in blood (now mostly on her face from when Slanty had punched her nose in and on the side of her head from her ear.) Dylan dunked the end of her scarf into the water again and went back to wiping away all the blood.
She had severely misjudged how tired she was. Her eyes kept shutting as she washed away the blood, and within a few minutes she had passed out, using her daypack as a pillow.
Before Dylan could voice her sarcastic response, Ashley sprinted off. That was nice. Less people Dylan would either have to watch die or kill herself. Dylan watched her run off until she was out of sight before turning back to the river.
In any case, Ashley needn't have worried. Dylan intended to stay non-psychotic. Maybe she'd gone... overboard with what she did to Brigid (her head was a bloody smear and you say you overreacted? Biggest understatement ever) but that'd been for a reason. She'd needed supplies. She'd needed Brigid to not take the supplies back. And any girl who waved her hands around and told people to wait when murder was clearly on the table would have died pretty fast anyway.
So, no. She had nothing to feel guilty about. It wasn't like she was enjoying this—
You did for a moment back there.
—she wasn't enjoying it at all. Dylan was not psycho. Just practical. Or else she'd be smiling easily, like... well, like Smiley.
With her meal taken care of, and Ashley gone, Dylan was a little bit unsure on what to do next. It was getting dark. Maybe she should find some place to sleep. She was feeling pretty tired at this stage... when had it gotten so dark? But she was still crusted in blood (now mostly on her face from when Slanty had punched her nose in and on the side of her head from her ear.) Dylan dunked the end of her scarf into the water again and went back to wiping away all the blood.
She had severely misjudged how tired she was. Her eyes kept shutting as she washed away the blood, and within a few minutes she had passed out, using her daypack as a pillow.
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 148
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:50 am
Dylan didn't know if she'd been expecting any fucked up dreams. People who came back from war had screwed up dreams, didn't they? About blood and death and regrets and all that boring stuff that makes people want to cry.
Brigid was in her dreams. And she did have her head all smooshed and bloody in it. But it didn't register as horrifying at all, at least not while Dylan was sleeping. Maybe because in the dream she and Dylan were playing golf. It was stupid in all manner of ways. ...Like they'd let someone like Dylan into a fancy golfing club.
Halfway through telling Brigid that she couldn't just go around leaking blood all over the golf course, Dylan woke up. Not for any particular reason, apart from the fact that lying on a river bed was getting really cold. Dylan sat up, looking around sleepily. No-one.
...Okay, sleeping on a river bank? Stupid idea. It was a miracle no-one had found her and smooshed her face.
Dylan wrapped her scarf back around her neck, after wringing out the end she'd dipped into the river just to make sure it wouldn't drip all over her. She didn't know how long she'd slept. But it was still really dark, so it couldn't have been more than an hour or two.
That would have to do for now. The river was too open. She needed to get going. And she needed somewhere she could sleep that wasn't ridiculously open, but also wasn't so obscured that she wouldn't be able to see or hear anyone approaching.
…
The town sounded good right about now. Maybe the earlier crowds had left.
Dylan quickly made sure everything was in her bag. She felt the top of her head. She'd lost her hat again at some point, probably when Gwen shoved her down the slopes. Bitch. Oh well. Dylan tugged up the jacket collar as high as possible to try and form some kind of shelter, though it was unsuccessful at doing... well, anything.
Dylan didn't pick up her old, trusty rock until after everything else had been dealt with, only grabbing it once she'd slung her day pack over her shoulder. She shoved it in her pocket, because it was still the best weapon she had.
She really should fix that at some point. She wasn't actively planning on killing again... not immediately, anyhow. But someone was sure to attack her eventually. And a rock wasn't much of a deterrent. It had only worked on Brigid because the girl had been stupid enough to try and tell her to stop instead of...
Okay. That's quite enough of that train of thought. What good is it to think about leprechauns?
Dylan wandered off towards the town, or at least in the general direction of it. It was hard to tell in the dark.
((Dylan Walker continued in 2 B A Patriot.))
Brigid was in her dreams. And she did have her head all smooshed and bloody in it. But it didn't register as horrifying at all, at least not while Dylan was sleeping. Maybe because in the dream she and Dylan were playing golf. It was stupid in all manner of ways. ...Like they'd let someone like Dylan into a fancy golfing club.
Halfway through telling Brigid that she couldn't just go around leaking blood all over the golf course, Dylan woke up. Not for any particular reason, apart from the fact that lying on a river bed was getting really cold. Dylan sat up, looking around sleepily. No-one.
...Okay, sleeping on a river bank? Stupid idea. It was a miracle no-one had found her and smooshed her face.
Dylan wrapped her scarf back around her neck, after wringing out the end she'd dipped into the river just to make sure it wouldn't drip all over her. She didn't know how long she'd slept. But it was still really dark, so it couldn't have been more than an hour or two.
That would have to do for now. The river was too open. She needed to get going. And she needed somewhere she could sleep that wasn't ridiculously open, but also wasn't so obscured that she wouldn't be able to see or hear anyone approaching.
…
The town sounded good right about now. Maybe the earlier crowds had left.
Dylan quickly made sure everything was in her bag. She felt the top of her head. She'd lost her hat again at some point, probably when Gwen shoved her down the slopes. Bitch. Oh well. Dylan tugged up the jacket collar as high as possible to try and form some kind of shelter, though it was unsuccessful at doing... well, anything.
Dylan didn't pick up her old, trusty rock until after everything else had been dealt with, only grabbing it once she'd slung her day pack over her shoulder. She shoved it in her pocket, because it was still the best weapon she had.
She really should fix that at some point. She wasn't actively planning on killing again... not immediately, anyhow. But someone was sure to attack her eventually. And a rock wasn't much of a deterrent. It had only worked on Brigid because the girl had been stupid enough to try and tell her to stop instead of...
Okay. That's quite enough of that train of thought. What good is it to think about leprechauns?
Dylan wandered off towards the town, or at least in the general direction of it. It was hard to tell in the dark.
((Dylan Walker continued in 2 B A Patriot.))