The announcements hadn't editorialized anything, and there was a part of William Apgar that almost wished General Adams was a bit more of a showman. Were he, the road ahead probably wouldn't have been so goddamned hard. But instead, his announcements were dry, informal, and came with an "only the facts, ma'am" sort of brevity to them. Sitting on kitchen chair and staring at the carefully laid-out contents of his pack, he sighed. Only the facts, indeed. So now everyone was aware of the fact that William Apgar had killed someone.
That wasn't great news.
On the plus side, the dry announcement had solved one big mystery for him. The still-unconscious girl on the sofa finally had a name. Willy, meet Kate. At least, he'd like to, but she was still out cold. Shaking his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose between clasped hands. Night was falling, and the darkness was beginning to spread. Everything was about to get so much harder.
((William Apgar and Kate Sanderson continued from a more innocent time, before they'd seen much of anything, yet.))
Standing from the kitchen table, William walked over to the sink and retrieved the cup that he'd been using to try and introduce fluids to Kate while she slept (or slowly died, he wasn't sure). He slowly filled the cup, and walked back towards the living room, taking a second to pause as he passed by a mirrored cupboard door. His face was still slightly crusted with blood, the injuries that the ruler had inflicted still very visible. The metal ruler had left a gash along the bridge of his nose that ran horizontally past his eye and down his cheek. Had it not been for the fact that the bridge of his nose was slightly larger than most, he would have taken the full brunt of the metal edge right in the eye. He had been damn lucky. Of course, the nasty-looking cut that ran across his face was no consolation prize. The second hit of the ruler had also left him with more of a gash above his eye, which had bled freely and caused the immediate obstruction of his vision. He gently touched the bandage that he'd firmly affixed to his forehead, wincing as he did. The wound was still fairly fresh, and he assumed that back home, it would have needed a few stitches.
He had a similar gash on the palm of his right hand, and as he brought the hand back down, he held it up to examine the bandage wrapped around his whole hand for the telltale signs of blood. There weren't any, but with the amount of cotton he'd packed in the bandage, that was a good sign. That one would sting, but it was a minor annoyance compared to the wounds on his face. He sighed, and took off his baseball cap, brushing his hair back, and putting it back on, backwards this time to keep the hair out of his eyes. Aside from his face, he still looked okay. That was more than he could say for Kate. Moving on from the mirror, he walked towards the couch, and stopped as he arrived at the back of it.
The emotion that had overwhelmed him had taken a good hour to recover from. It was first the terror and the fear of the entire situation that had moved him to tears, but once that had gone away, it was quickly replaced by a gnawing guilty feeling that, even hours later, hadn't departed. He'd killed someone. There was every justification in the world for it - it had been an accident, it was self-defense, he'd been attacked, whatever. He had replayed the incident over in his head for hours, and any way he looked at it... someone was dead, and his hands had been the reason why. It had taken him some time to force himself to rise from the position he'd fallen to beside the couch, but when he had, he'd known two things. Firstly, he had to do something, to keep his mind off that horrid fact. Second, they were in no position to move around, so it seemed as good a place as any to hole up until he could pull himself back together, and hopefully this girl could wake up.
So he'd gone to work.
The first - and most difficult decision had been figuring out what to do with Leonard's body. The blood had pooled around him, and Willy had zero inkling of finding out what a corpse smelled like if you left it sitting for several hours. He'd retrieved a sheet from the linen closet, and had dragged his antagonist's corpse onto it, wrapped the body up, and had dragged it through the house and in to the rear yard of the house. It wasn't exactly a bastion of solitude, but it was gently fenced in and it would be outside of the house, so it worked. He hadn't bothered to unwrap the body, simply leaving it bundled up on the lawn beside the rear door. Once that had been taken care of, he'd spent a few minutes doing his best to clean up the bloody mess and drag-trail that he'd left through the living room and the kitchen. Thankfully the tile floor wasn't very difficult to tidy, and the linen closet was nicely stocked with a mop and a pail that he'd used to mostly erase the evidence of his dirty deed.
Cleaning up a murder scene - he could add that to the list of things he never fathomed himself having to do.
Once that was complete, William had set about rearranging the furniture. While not at all a practitioner of feng shui, he'd moved the couch (and Kate) to a more defensible position near to the back of the room, and had shuttered the windows, moving a bookshelf to block the one window without a shutter. He'd locked the front door, and had dragged another shelf over to give him a carefully obstructed vantage point. It wasn't exactly the pinnacle of a fortress, but it would do the trick. The whole endeavour had taken a couple of hours, between which he'd taken small breaks to try and get Kate to drink some water, keeping her forehead damp to try and keep any potential fever at bay, and generally just check in on her.
For the last hour, William had been doing an inventory of the house, checking the upstairs bedrooms to see if anything useful was lurking about in a drawer or a cupboard. Sadly, he hadn't found much, and so he'd taken the opportunity to go through his, Kate's, and Leonard's packs to inventory their supplies. Had he the presence of mind to pick up Larry's pack when they'd been at the shore, they would have had a veritable pharmacy, but between the two of them, they were doing pretty well when it came to medical supplies and food. His own pack was currently laid out on the kitchen table, once he was finished with Kate, he'd have to repack it.
As he stood over the couch, he looked down at Kate. Her breathing had seemed to normalize over the last few hours, and William held out hope that her unconscious state was simply her body trying to sleep off the injuries she'd sustained - and Lord have mercy, she'd taken an absolute beating. They'd passed by one another in the halls many a time, but Kate hadn't been someone that would have stuck out - she was pretty plain. Not an ugly girl by any facet, but not someone that the guys would have fawned over. He surmised, anyhow; he wouldn't have fawned over her no matter what her appearance. But now, her face had swollen up, her right eye bloodshot and crusting up; her left darkened with a black circle forming under both of them. He'd tried to clean the nasty gash in her forehead as best he could, and he'd wrapped her forehead in a bandage much like the one he wore upon his own head. Their facial injuries mirrored one another a bit, though Willy was a little more concerned with whatever had gotten in her eye than he had been with his own wound. He continued to try and clean the crust out of her eye, but it still seemed to come back. While her breathing had gotten less shallow and more ordinary as she'd slept, she still wheezed occasionally. Could that have been a broken rib, or a sign of something more sinister within her?
He had no idea. He was no doctor - just a scared kid trying to do right by someone else.
Sighing once more, William crossed over to the other side of the couch, sitting down at the kitchen chair he'd moved to a spot beside the couch. Adjusting the shotgun that he'd slung around his back (and had forgotten about), he leaned in and gently moved her chin down to open her mouth, pouring a small amount of water in. He allowed her mouth to close on its own, and waited a few minutes for her to swallow. That she was still able to swallow he figured was a good thing. It meant that she still had some basic brain function. Had he read somewhere that it was a sign that someone wasn't in an irreversible coma? That sounded right. His brain tried to cling to anything as a signal of optimism at this point.
He repeated the motion, pouring a small amount of water in, and let her jaw settle back in. He was about to lean back when she suddenly coughed, water spraying him in the face. Recoiling in surprise, he set the glass of water down on the floor as she coughed, her eyes fluttering open for the first time since he'd met her.
There was immediate panic, and Kate squeaked a terrified retort to her newfound consciousness, immediately trying to push herself up from the couch. Her swollen face contorted into one of fear as she realized that she didn't have the strength to move. William wavered for a moment, but put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, causing her to recoil into the couch as she realized that she wasn't alone.
"Hey! Hey, it's okay! It's okay," she trembled as she stared a hole in his forehead. "I'm not going to hurt you, Kate."
Managing a weak smile for her benefit, William took her hand in his and clasped it, in a gesture that he hoped conveyed his amiable manner. Her gaze instantly went to his hand, but at the mention of her name, she got the message, and while her terror only subsided, not going away, she allowed her head to sink down into the pillow, her eyes shutting in what William guessed could only have been pain. After a moment, she gave his hand a squeeze, and opened her eyes, her voice but a whisper that William could almost barely hear.
"Wh- what happened?"
Managing a smile that wasn't altogether false, William paused, grimacing. "What do you remember?"
Her eyes narrowed, though with the swelling to the side of her face, it was only a half-expression. He got the message though, as she slowly shook her head.
"Not... the Program? We're in... Program?"
William nodded, his expression grim. "That's right."
Her eyes shut in silent anguish; her expression told William that she'd been hoping it was all a bad dream. Hell, he'd been thinking the same thing.
"I was..." She allowed herself a moment to fight through her pain, clenching her eyes shut. It passed after a moment. "I think I was going to end it myself."
That caused Willy to sit a bit more upright. He'd assigned a certain character to the encounter between Kate and Larry. He'd known what kind of a person Larry was - a pompous, arrogant jerk who lacked manners and was a bit of a zealot. Similar to Leonard, but a lot less polished. He'd automatically assumed that Larry had attacked her, but what if he'd tried to stop her, and she'd killed him for it...? The uncertainty was all over his face, but Kate wasn't capable of understanding it for what it was. Instead, she grimaced again.
"Water?"
Blinking himself out of his uncertain trance, William reached down and picked up the cup, freeing his hand from Kate's and keeping hold of it as her unsteady hands reached up and grasped the cup. For a moment, he thought that she might let it drop, but she steadied herself and brought the cup to her lips. The water in the glass lasted mere seconds, and swallowed with a sigh. Her voice had a bit more volume to it, the water bringing her more life.
"I got attacked, just before... I don't really remember anything else."
William nodded at her, processing the minimal story that he'd been able to grasp from her. That did make a lot more sense than his presumed version of events. Larry had been a real piece of shit, the kind of guy who'd do anything to make himself the top guy in the eyes of the government. William thought back to the way he'd exited the gymnasium, and his posturing on the bus. It felt awful, but he was glad she'd come out of the encounter over him.
"Well, you were in pretty bad shape when I found you. I can't imagine you feel very good right now, but if it's possible..." He trailed off, smiling a sympathetic smile at her. "... you might actually look worse."
Kate processed the information and allowed herself a small half-chuckle, though it turned to pain as she did, her face twisting as her injured ribs reminded her of their presence. William continued.
"I don't know how you managed it, but you managed to fight off Larry," he paused, unsure of how to word his next words. "When I found you, his body was on top of you, and... he was pretty well split from crotch to sternum." William grimaced at the description. Kate didn't have much of a reaction, as if she were hearing the information for the first time.
"I... I killed him?"
He nodded solemnly. "It was on the announcement an hour ago. Larry Rosenberg, killed by Kate Sanderson. It's how I knew your name. I honestly had no idea who you were when I picked you up."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"
That was a question that he'd been trying to ask himself for hours. Why had he dragged a badly beaten girl out of what could have been her final resting place in a game where only one person walked away? What was driving him to protect her from the elements, from a military kid named Leonard, from everything? He didn't have much of an answer for her - not one that she'd get, anyway. Maybe it was for his family's benefit, perhaps it was for Mitch's. So they'd remember him as the person that he was, and not as some murderous killer. He didn't know. The only thing he did know was what he told her.
"It was just the right thing to do, Kate. Murder game be damned. I couldn't just leave you behind."
She mulled over his explanation for a moment, and her gaze went away from him to look over the room. The light was starting to fall away now, and though William had prepared a candle that he'd found in a drawer in the kitchen to act as a small light source, he hadn't lit it. Taking stock of the room, she weakly pulled herself to more of an upward position, though not by much. Her body was still battered, though the new angle seemed to help her breathe better.
"Thank you...?" She searched her brain for his name, but it didn't register for her.
"William. William Apgar." He smiled at her. "My friends call me Willy."
Kate thought for moment, and nodded. Kate didn't have very many friends in school, most of the people that she knew were barely acquaintances or just classmates that she might discuss a homework assignment with. Were she to really put much thought to it, she couldn't really name someone that she'd considered a "best friend". Or a friend at all.
But William Apgar had put his life on the line for hers and expected nothing in return. He'd saved her - helped her out of the goodness of his heart, and nothing more.
That sounded like a friend, to her.
"Thank you, Willy." She managed a very weak smile for him. "What do we do now?"
The smile that he'd worn to match hers fell away, and he shook his head softly. The next step was as much a mystery to him as her name had been until the announcement. The fact still remained that they were but two in the middle of a death game, and anyone walking through the door could potentially be a foe. With Kate still in a much-weakened state, there wasn't really much to do outside of what they were already doing.
Sitting, and waiting.
"It's getting to be dark. You were out for a long time, and I think it's smarter if we stay put until you're a bit stronger. I've tried to go through and safeguard this house as best as I can. We don't need any more unwanted visitors..." He trailed off, the guilt from his murder rising to the forefront. Kate didn't ask, only nodded. William collected himself rather quickly and continued.
"On a scale from one to ten, how bad is your pain? I don't suppose you can get up?"
Kate tentatively tried to brace herself on her hands, but quickly shook her head as a wave of dizziness overtook her.
"Probably a seven. I'm really dizzy."
He scratched his chin and frowned. "Okay. Try not to move. If you can sleep more, that might help. I'll get you some water, and now that you're awake, something to eat. I have a shotgun, so at least we'll be protected."
Kate took note of the way that William's voice fell off after he identified his designated weapon. There was some sort of guilt there. She figured that he likely wasn't telling her the full story of what had happened while she was out, but that could be a story for another time. Her head still spun, and she felt weak. The pain was coming in waves, and she could only nod to him in agreement as she shut her eyes. His plan seemed as good a plan as any.
William rose from the chair, picking up the glass from the ground. This was a start, he supposed. Kate was conscious, she was alive, and she was talking. Whatever injuries that she had, she could recover from, and then they could figure out just what to do next. There was something about this girl that he just trusted, and he couldn't put his finger on why. Perhaps it was her quiet nature, or perhaps it was just his protector instincts. Either way, as he made his way into the kitchen, cup in hand, he knew that two minds were undoubtedly better than one, and if they were going to find some way to deal with all of this, he was happy to have her on his side.
As he passed by the mirror in the hall once more, he shot himself a look and a half-pause at his own reflection. Maybe he'd keep her away from the mirror for the time being. There was no reason to terrify the poor girl. She'd been through enough already. They'd both fought battles as individuals and won. Now, it was hopefully time for them to see how they operated as a team. A weak, barely functional team, but a team nonetheless.
William hoped that they weren't the only ones still thinking in those terms.
Human terms.
Willy Willy Willy, can't you see? Sometimes your words just hypnotize me.
Phase 2 (13-24 Hours), Phase II - Open.
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Cactus
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The food itself was palatable, but barely. As he sheepishly held out a torn-off chunk of bread, William couldn't help but find himself wishing for a bona-fide four course meal. What a treat that would be. Of course, as it stood now, the odds of William or Kate ever seeing the outside world to have a four-course meal ever again were infinitesimal. Having pulled herself to more of a sitting position, Kate accepted the bread eagerly, though her face ached to chew. Gingerly wolfing down the bread, she washed it down with some of the water from one of the bottles they'd been provided. In hindsight, William had been a little surprised that the taps still worked, though he could imagine that the water system wasn't exactly being well-maintained. So for the time being, it was safer to stick to the water that they'd been provided, though it was nice to know that it wasn't a finite source.
The two hadn't said much to one another since they'd finished off their earlier conversation. Kate was still obviously ailing, to the point where speaking drained her, and William didn't engage her. He didn't really have a whole lot to say. What he'd done to Leonard still weighed heavily upon his conscience, and he found himself wondering how long it would take until the boy's body was surrounded by insects. By maggots.
By the stench of decay.
He almost gagged at the thought of Leonard Roycewood's chest cavity, wide open with a gunshot wound, maggots eagerly feasting away at his remains. Where there had once been a sharp arrogance to him, there was now nothing. As he'd wrapped the body up and dragged it outside, the blank look in his eyes had unnerved him. Moments before, Leonard had been cursing William and calling him an idiot. The next, he'd been a lifeless sack of flesh upon the floor.
The dichotomy between the two versions of Leonard almost made him sick to his stomach.
As William absently pondered his dirty deed and wore a scowl upon his face, Kate continued to choke down the lukewarm water from one of the designated bottles they'd been given. Her mind was less foggy now - the food was helping, but as feeling was beginning to come back to her extremities, she knew that feeling was going to be the least of her concerns going forward. She hurt basically everywhere, worst of all was a sharp pain whenever she took a deep breath. As it stood now, she was trying to keep her breathing steady, trying to block out as much of the pain as she could. Were it not for the kindness of Willy, she couldn't imagine that she'd have made it very far from where she'd fallen. The fight with Larry was still a vague memory for her - her aching head and the overall haze that she was in still impacting her recall. She'd popped a couple of Ibuprofen tablets and they had helped, but that had only turned the pain down to an eight from what had probably been a twelve. She'd fibbed earlier when Willy had asked her how she was feeling, but understating things was probably the smart thing to do.
She didn't want to be any more of a burden than she already felt.
If only Larry had just let her jump.
Kate took another drink of water, and stared at the wall on the far end of the room. The wallpaper was peeling, and there were small red spots on the wall. Blood, she realized with a chill. Her face fell into a frown. Whatever William had gone through when she'd been out, he wasn't up to talking about it, and she wasn't about to ask.
Neither Kate nor Willy said a word, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon them both.
The two hadn't said much to one another since they'd finished off their earlier conversation. Kate was still obviously ailing, to the point where speaking drained her, and William didn't engage her. He didn't really have a whole lot to say. What he'd done to Leonard still weighed heavily upon his conscience, and he found himself wondering how long it would take until the boy's body was surrounded by insects. By maggots.
By the stench of decay.
He almost gagged at the thought of Leonard Roycewood's chest cavity, wide open with a gunshot wound, maggots eagerly feasting away at his remains. Where there had once been a sharp arrogance to him, there was now nothing. As he'd wrapped the body up and dragged it outside, the blank look in his eyes had unnerved him. Moments before, Leonard had been cursing William and calling him an idiot. The next, he'd been a lifeless sack of flesh upon the floor.
The dichotomy between the two versions of Leonard almost made him sick to his stomach.
As William absently pondered his dirty deed and wore a scowl upon his face, Kate continued to choke down the lukewarm water from one of the designated bottles they'd been given. Her mind was less foggy now - the food was helping, but as feeling was beginning to come back to her extremities, she knew that feeling was going to be the least of her concerns going forward. She hurt basically everywhere, worst of all was a sharp pain whenever she took a deep breath. As it stood now, she was trying to keep her breathing steady, trying to block out as much of the pain as she could. Were it not for the kindness of Willy, she couldn't imagine that she'd have made it very far from where she'd fallen. The fight with Larry was still a vague memory for her - her aching head and the overall haze that she was in still impacting her recall. She'd popped a couple of Ibuprofen tablets and they had helped, but that had only turned the pain down to an eight from what had probably been a twelve. She'd fibbed earlier when Willy had asked her how she was feeling, but understating things was probably the smart thing to do.
She didn't want to be any more of a burden than she already felt.
If only Larry had just let her jump.
Kate took another drink of water, and stared at the wall on the far end of the room. The wallpaper was peeling, and there were small red spots on the wall. Blood, she realized with a chill. Her face fell into a frown. Whatever William had gone through when she'd been out, he wasn't up to talking about it, and she wasn't about to ask.
Neither Kate nor Willy said a word, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon them both.
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Sh4dE
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- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
((Mick Sexsmith continued from The Charm The Fury))
Hours have passed since Mick has lost his fingers. After taking care of his wounds and looking at the new gun he gained in exchange for his fingers, he felt dizzy at first due to the blood loss, but after drinking a good amount of his water he felt better. Nonetheless Mick is exhausted and wanted some sleep.
The shotgun in his hand felt heavier the more he walked around, scavenging for supplies. His hand went to open the door. Mick pushed against the door. He pulled. It was closed.
Odd.
Mick considered breaking the door with his foot or shooting it open, but this locked door was absolutely perfect for him considering he plans to sleep in this house tonight. There probably was a back door or windows he could get in. As he walked to the back of the house he noticed two things. First, there was a wooden subject behind a window while all other windows were shuttered and second, the backyard smelled almost as bad as the place Mick woke up in. As he looked at that wrapped piece of smell on the ground, he figured it was not going to be a treasure underneath it. Yet Mick was curious enough to know whose corpse it was. Information is valueable.
Making sure no one was near him, he ducked to unwrap the smelly mess. A bloody corpse, a hole in the stomach, a very horrifying sight. At first Mick thought this was Scotty Ward until he realised who it was. Leo Royceford.
Patriot. Asshole. Dead.
"Well, he served his country well," he whispered to himself as he put the cover back on this disgusting sight. Mick now was unsure whether he should try to use the rear door to go in. Was it a trap? Was Leo a warning á la "this is what happens when you go inside this house"?
Mick was not intimidated by that, but got more curious about this omnious house. Sneaking back to a shuttered window Mick waited in front of it.
He used the back of his shotgun to quickly shatter the window. After pulling off the shutters with his functioning hand he looked into the room which seemed to be a kitchen and pointed his shotgun at the kitchen in case someone was there. Quickly swiping off the shards, Mick climbed into the house through the window. He dashed to the kitchen table in the centre of the room and kneeled behind it, pointing the shotgun at the door. Mick shouted loudly.
"Hello? Is anybody home?"
Mick knew someone was there.
Hours have passed since Mick has lost his fingers. After taking care of his wounds and looking at the new gun he gained in exchange for his fingers, he felt dizzy at first due to the blood loss, but after drinking a good amount of his water he felt better. Nonetheless Mick is exhausted and wanted some sleep.
The shotgun in his hand felt heavier the more he walked around, scavenging for supplies. His hand went to open the door. Mick pushed against the door. He pulled. It was closed.
Odd.
Mick considered breaking the door with his foot or shooting it open, but this locked door was absolutely perfect for him considering he plans to sleep in this house tonight. There probably was a back door or windows he could get in. As he walked to the back of the house he noticed two things. First, there was a wooden subject behind a window while all other windows were shuttered and second, the backyard smelled almost as bad as the place Mick woke up in. As he looked at that wrapped piece of smell on the ground, he figured it was not going to be a treasure underneath it. Yet Mick was curious enough to know whose corpse it was. Information is valueable.
Making sure no one was near him, he ducked to unwrap the smelly mess. A bloody corpse, a hole in the stomach, a very horrifying sight. At first Mick thought this was Scotty Ward until he realised who it was. Leo Royceford.
Patriot. Asshole. Dead.
"Well, he served his country well," he whispered to himself as he put the cover back on this disgusting sight. Mick now was unsure whether he should try to use the rear door to go in. Was it a trap? Was Leo a warning á la "this is what happens when you go inside this house"?
Mick was not intimidated by that, but got more curious about this omnious house. Sneaking back to a shuttered window Mick waited in front of it.
He used the back of his shotgun to quickly shatter the window. After pulling off the shutters with his functioning hand he looked into the room which seemed to be a kitchen and pointed his shotgun at the kitchen in case someone was there. Quickly swiping off the shards, Mick climbed into the house through the window. He dashed to the kitchen table in the centre of the room and kneeled behind it, pointing the shotgun at the door. Mick shouted loudly.
"Hello? Is anybody home?"
Mick knew someone was there.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Cactus
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Having eaten and gained a little bit more energy, consciousness was less fleeting for Kate Sanderson than it had been for much of the day, since her fateful encounter with Lucky Larry and his murderous intentions. Of course, in her current circumstance, she wasn't sure that consciousness was in fact a good thing. Her pain had dulled a little from the pills that she'd taken, but the gnawing in her stomach had been replaced by a dull throb that seemed to eminate from nearly every single part of her body. It felt as though her fingernails hurt. Her hair was screaming at her. Her glasses...
She patted her face. Where were her glasses? She'd been wearing them when she'd gotten off the bus, so what...? Had she taken them off before she'd decided to take a plunge, or were they still laying somewhere in the field next to Larry's dessicated corpse?
Shit. She didn't know.
As they'd finished eating in silence, William had gotten to his feet and walked into the kitchen, intent upon packing up their bags. He'd mumbled something about taking stock and had walked off, but had assured her that he'd be right back. She hadn't said much in return - the truth was, she was still jumpy, and her saviour seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts as much as she was with her own. It was starting to occur to her that even though she couldn't remember doing it, Willy had given her a valuable piece of information.
She'd killed Larry.
Her.
Kate.
It barely computed in her mind; it felt as though the murder was something that someone else had done, rather than her. She'd been thinking hard to try and remember what had happened, but it just made her head ache more. Since it had quite evidently been her or him, she didn't even feel bad about it. Did that make her a bad person? She'd killed her would-be rapist and attacker and felt literally nothing about it. She groaned to herself, and shut her eyes for a moment. No, it was even worse.
It made her a survivor. The irony was not lost upon her. She wondered if her father wou-
The loud crash of glass breaking from the kitchen was sudden and seemed to exceed the decibel limit all at once. Instinctively, she shrieked in fear. Kate was immediately paralyzed by the fear that rushed into her chest with crushing force. She could feel it so heavily that her injured ribs ached and her eyes began to water; her arms started to tremble. Her sore eye ached even further with the tears, another reminder of her injuries.
"Willy! WILLY! Someone's here!"
Every fiber of her being prayed that Willy had not decided to abandon her.
She patted her face. Where were her glasses? She'd been wearing them when she'd gotten off the bus, so what...? Had she taken them off before she'd decided to take a plunge, or were they still laying somewhere in the field next to Larry's dessicated corpse?
Shit. She didn't know.
As they'd finished eating in silence, William had gotten to his feet and walked into the kitchen, intent upon packing up their bags. He'd mumbled something about taking stock and had walked off, but had assured her that he'd be right back. She hadn't said much in return - the truth was, she was still jumpy, and her saviour seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts as much as she was with her own. It was starting to occur to her that even though she couldn't remember doing it, Willy had given her a valuable piece of information.
She'd killed Larry.
Her.
Kate.
It barely computed in her mind; it felt as though the murder was something that someone else had done, rather than her. She'd been thinking hard to try and remember what had happened, but it just made her head ache more. Since it had quite evidently been her or him, she didn't even feel bad about it. Did that make her a bad person? She'd killed her would-be rapist and attacker and felt literally nothing about it. She groaned to herself, and shut her eyes for a moment. No, it was even worse.
It made her a survivor. The irony was not lost upon her. She wondered if her father wou-
SMASH
The loud crash of glass breaking from the kitchen was sudden and seemed to exceed the decibel limit all at once. Instinctively, she shrieked in fear. Kate was immediately paralyzed by the fear that rushed into her chest with crushing force. She could feel it so heavily that her injured ribs ached and her eyes began to water; her arms started to tremble. Her sore eye ached even further with the tears, another reminder of her injuries.
"Willy! WILLY! Someone's here!"
Every fiber of her being prayed that Willy had not decided to abandon her.
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Cactus
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- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Inventory was important - it was always good to know what you had, and what you needed. It was like anything in life: you took stock at certain times, and decided what you wanted or needed next. That was how pretty much anything worked. Shopping, school, even training for sports, it was all just about taking stock and implementing what you needed next. After the silent meal that he'd shared with Kate - who he was discovering, wasn't much of a talker, William had gone back into the kitchen to pack up and take stock. It was probably prudent to be ready to move at a moment's notice, especially in the situation they were in. He'd done a decent job of barricading the house, but the barricades would act more as an alarm system than a true deterrent.
So once William Apgar had figured out the things that he needed by unpacking all three bags that he had in his possession, he'd repacked two of the bags, filled fuller with the supplies that he'd taken from the late Leonard Roycewood, and had set off back into the living room, bags in hand. His mind was still preoccupied with the guilt that he felt over dispatching his erstwhile classmate, but had he allowed Leo to walk away with the shotgun, he'd have been signing not just his own death warrant but Kate's as well.
He'd barely managed to close the door behind him when he heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen, the shattering of glass a very clear sign that he was about to have company. Kate's panicked scream was but the icing on the cake. Clearing the distance from the kitchen door to the couch in two very long but quick strides, William jumped behind the couch, pulling the sideways table to act as a makeshift shield for both him and Kate. Letting the bags fall to the ground beside him, he grabbed the shotgun from its sling on his back and held it in a ready position.
Glancing over, he saw Kate trembling in fear beside him, paralyzed with horror at the loud outcry from the kitchen window as it had perished. Gulping his own fear down to the pit of his throat, he gently reached out and grabbed Kate's small hand within his own, trying to give her at least a modicum of reassurance.
"It's okay, I'm here." He gave her hand a squeeze, and then put it back on the shotgun. She managed to give him a slight nod in return, her face still betraying her terror. The two waited for a moment, and a voice called out from within the kitchen. It was unfamiliar to William, but it was muffled from behind the door and it was hard to tell the owner.
William glanced over at Kate and gave her a quick glance. "Any idea?" She attempted to compose herself, but failed, only managing a small shake of her head. Their guest was still a mystery to the both of them. Grimacing, William peeked over at the door, and guessed that perhaps taking a different path than the one he'd taken with Leonard would be a smart call.
Maybe this time he'd hold his fucking tongue and not be such a smart-ass. He raised his voice and called out from behind the table/couch barricade, shotgun pointed squarely at the door.
"Nope, nobody's home! If you'd like to leave a message for the homeowners, I'll gladly make sure they get it!"
Whoops.
So much for that plan. Beside him, Kate could only stare at him as though he had two heads.
Once a smart-ass, always a smart-ass, he supposed. Hopefully this guy would be more appreciative than the late Mr. Roycewood.
So once William Apgar had figured out the things that he needed by unpacking all three bags that he had in his possession, he'd repacked two of the bags, filled fuller with the supplies that he'd taken from the late Leonard Roycewood, and had set off back into the living room, bags in hand. His mind was still preoccupied with the guilt that he felt over dispatching his erstwhile classmate, but had he allowed Leo to walk away with the shotgun, he'd have been signing not just his own death warrant but Kate's as well.
He'd barely managed to close the door behind him when he heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen, the shattering of glass a very clear sign that he was about to have company. Kate's panicked scream was but the icing on the cake. Clearing the distance from the kitchen door to the couch in two very long but quick strides, William jumped behind the couch, pulling the sideways table to act as a makeshift shield for both him and Kate. Letting the bags fall to the ground beside him, he grabbed the shotgun from its sling on his back and held it in a ready position.
Glancing over, he saw Kate trembling in fear beside him, paralyzed with horror at the loud outcry from the kitchen window as it had perished. Gulping his own fear down to the pit of his throat, he gently reached out and grabbed Kate's small hand within his own, trying to give her at least a modicum of reassurance.
"It's okay, I'm here." He gave her hand a squeeze, and then put it back on the shotgun. She managed to give him a slight nod in return, her face still betraying her terror. The two waited for a moment, and a voice called out from within the kitchen. It was unfamiliar to William, but it was muffled from behind the door and it was hard to tell the owner.
William glanced over at Kate and gave her a quick glance. "Any idea?" She attempted to compose herself, but failed, only managing a small shake of her head. Their guest was still a mystery to the both of them. Grimacing, William peeked over at the door, and guessed that perhaps taking a different path than the one he'd taken with Leonard would be a smart call.
Maybe this time he'd hold his fucking tongue and not be such a smart-ass. He raised his voice and called out from behind the table/couch barricade, shotgun pointed squarely at the door.
"Nope, nobody's home! If you'd like to leave a message for the homeowners, I'll gladly make sure they get it!"
Whoops.
So much for that plan. Beside him, Kate could only stare at him as though he had two heads.
Once a smart-ass, always a smart-ass, he supposed. Hopefully this guy would be more appreciative than the late Mr. Roycewood.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Whose voice was it? Mick recognised the voice, but could not assign a face to the voice. Either way, the voice did not sound friendly at all.
That guy probably was alone. Still Mick should be careful. He had an urge to go to the door and open it to check out who it was. But he would not be foolish. There could be traps anywhere.
He had to be patient and wait for the other guy to make a move. Mick still half-kneeled with the shotgun pointed at the closed door.
He chooses not to say anything.
That guy probably was alone. Still Mick should be careful. He had an urge to go to the door and open it to check out who it was. But he would not be foolish. There could be traps anywhere.
He had to be patient and wait for the other guy to make a move. Mick still half-kneeled with the shotgun pointed at the closed door.
He chooses not to say anything.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
There was nothing in response. No quip, no affirmation, no remark to speak of. All of William's energy was focused upon the door until Kate whispered shakily at him. "W-what do we do?"
Grimacing, William exhaled slowly, eyes still fixed upon the door. If the other person wasn't about to answer him in return, that probably meant that he was not friendly. Thankfully, there was only one way in and out of the kitchen, so at the very least, there was a door between whomever was there and the two of them in the living room. He again reached down and steadied Kate's trembling hands with a squeeze.
"It's okay. Stay calm," he whispered reassuringly. While it didn't stop her fear, it seemed to ebb the rising tide of dread from within her, and she focused on trying to lower her racing heart-beat. While Kate focused inwardly, William glanced at the other windows and the other spots where people could potentially come from. He had an excellent vantage point on almost all of the entrances and exits of the room, and if whomever was out there had friends, he would almost certainly be able to see them coming.
God, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Willy chose not to say anything more. He didn't want to give any potentially violent kids an indication of where he was, and it was probably best if whomever was outside thought that William was alone for the time being.
So instead of shouting back, he waited, in silence, hands clammy on the shotgun that he desperately hoped not to have to use again.
Grimacing, William exhaled slowly, eyes still fixed upon the door. If the other person wasn't about to answer him in return, that probably meant that he was not friendly. Thankfully, there was only one way in and out of the kitchen, so at the very least, there was a door between whomever was there and the two of them in the living room. He again reached down and steadied Kate's trembling hands with a squeeze.
"It's okay. Stay calm," he whispered reassuringly. While it didn't stop her fear, it seemed to ebb the rising tide of dread from within her, and she focused on trying to lower her racing heart-beat. While Kate focused inwardly, William glanced at the other windows and the other spots where people could potentially come from. He had an excellent vantage point on almost all of the entrances and exits of the room, and if whomever was out there had friends, he would almost certainly be able to see them coming.
God, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Willy chose not to say anything more. He didn't want to give any potentially violent kids an indication of where he was, and it was probably best if whomever was outside thought that William was alone for the time being.
So instead of shouting back, he waited, in silence, hands clammy on the shotgun that he desperately hoped not to have to use again.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
It had been perhaps minutes. No reaction from outside the kitchen. The longer he waited the more Mick looked to the window to watch in case someone came from there.
He was tired. Tired of waiting, tired of ducking.
Let's count the facts before making a move, Mick. Someone is in the house. He probably has fortified the house, maybe set some traps. He openly told Mick that he was here.
Yet, he did not say anything else after that.
Plus, there was a corpse in the garden. The whole situation was very suspicious to Mick.
What were the options? Either go through the door and explore or leave. Or keep waiting. Mick was not sure whether there still was anybody. It could be that the guy already left. But the guy sounded too confident. No, he was still somewhere, waiting to kill Mick. That guy probably also killed Leo. No scavenger would show themselves or close the doors. Mick considered to leave that guy alone, but the guy could be waiting for him once he climbs out of the window.
Mick once again checked the window. Where was he? Did he already leave the house? Was he waiting outside the house? Was he waiting behind the door with a baton around the corner?
There was the option of responding to see if the guy still is there.
Mick frowned to formulate a sentence. Then he shouted.
"Please tell the homeowners to remove Leo's corpse from their garden, it smells like shit."
Mick anxiously waited for a response, but expected none. He frankly did not know what was worse - a response or none.
He was tired. Tired of waiting, tired of ducking.
Let's count the facts before making a move, Mick. Someone is in the house. He probably has fortified the house, maybe set some traps. He openly told Mick that he was here.
Yet, he did not say anything else after that.
Plus, there was a corpse in the garden. The whole situation was very suspicious to Mick.
What were the options? Either go through the door and explore or leave. Or keep waiting. Mick was not sure whether there still was anybody. It could be that the guy already left. But the guy sounded too confident. No, he was still somewhere, waiting to kill Mick. That guy probably also killed Leo. No scavenger would show themselves or close the doors. Mick considered to leave that guy alone, but the guy could be waiting for him once he climbs out of the window.
Mick once again checked the window. Where was he? Did he already leave the house? Was he waiting outside the house? Was he waiting behind the door with a baton around the corner?
There was the option of responding to see if the guy still is there.
Mick frowned to formulate a sentence. Then he shouted.
"Please tell the homeowners to remove Leo's corpse from their garden, it smells like shit."
Mick anxiously waited for a response, but expected none. He frankly did not know what was worse - a response or none.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Moments passed with nary a sound to be heard. William's palms were starting to sweat, and he alternated wiping them off on his hands and on the couch. The shotgun felt colossal within his hands, and there was a very large part of him that hoped he would never find himself discharging it against another living person again. The guilt of Leo's death still gnawed at him, but in this moment, this tense moment, he could not afford himself the luxury of feeling guilt. His life - and that of his new friend Kate, were in his hands.
So he continued to wait. Until finally, there was a response.
The words cut him deeply, it was though the boy had been able to read his mind and wrap his metaphorical hands around the one open wound within Willy's soul. He grimaced and looked up at the ceiling, face contorted, the guilt radiating from him.
Beside him, still laying on the couch, Kate's eyes (rather, her one still-fully functional eye) went wide, her addled brain trying to understand what the words, coupled with Willy's reaction meant. She felt like she had a pretty good idea, but she was able to pull herself away from her fear to look up at Willy. She reached out and slowly brushed his arm with her hand. "Leo?" She hissed at him, keeping her voice low but not accusatory.
William's reaction told the entire story for Kate. His visage was a twisted mess of guilt and shame, and he looked as though he might be on the verge of tears. Her saviour was wrestling with his own demons, and it seemed as though Kate finally had the answer to what had transpired while she'd been out. She wasn't sure what to do, what she could do. William looked more pained than he had since she'd seen him, and if he couldn't keep his shit together, the two of them wouldn't last much longer than they already had. Kate wasn't much in the way of a people person, but she decided to mimic Willy's gesture to her.
She reached out and grabbed his sleeve, causing him to look up at her, eyes glassy. She tried to put on her best comforting face, but considering how much pain her whole face was in, she wasn't sure how well the gesture came across - so she relied upon her words.
"It's okay, Willy. I trust you."
Amazingly enough to Kate, the hushed words seemed to do the boy a bit of good. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and composed himself, a lot more easily than Kate herself had managed to. Nodding to no one in particular, Willy cleared his throat and called out to the stranger behind the door. His voice wavered briefly at the beginning, but he cleaned up his confidence quickly after.
"I'll be sure to let them know. Leonard wasn't a very good houseguest. He came in and tried to steal from the owners. Things... happened. You know how it goes."
William took a second more to compose himself. Kate's words had been exactly what he'd needed to hear, and he could deal with his guilt later. Leonard had tried to take his weapon, and so effectively it had been self-defense. He still couldn't place the voice.
"You wouldn't be coming in and trying to steal from the owners, would you?"
He kept up the scenario, though he was aware of how ridiculous it sounded, he felt it best to be cautious. Kate simply lay there, her hand resting on William's leg as a show of support. It was all she could do. She was still too weak to stand and moving her head made her dizzy... but if she could help her friend keep his cool, that would be enough.
Silently, they both hoped for the same thing: a reprieve from the suffering.
Only time would tell if they'd get it.
So he continued to wait. Until finally, there was a response.
The words cut him deeply, it was though the boy had been able to read his mind and wrap his metaphorical hands around the one open wound within Willy's soul. He grimaced and looked up at the ceiling, face contorted, the guilt radiating from him.
Beside him, still laying on the couch, Kate's eyes (rather, her one still-fully functional eye) went wide, her addled brain trying to understand what the words, coupled with Willy's reaction meant. She felt like she had a pretty good idea, but she was able to pull herself away from her fear to look up at Willy. She reached out and slowly brushed his arm with her hand. "Leo?" She hissed at him, keeping her voice low but not accusatory.
William's reaction told the entire story for Kate. His visage was a twisted mess of guilt and shame, and he looked as though he might be on the verge of tears. Her saviour was wrestling with his own demons, and it seemed as though Kate finally had the answer to what had transpired while she'd been out. She wasn't sure what to do, what she could do. William looked more pained than he had since she'd seen him, and if he couldn't keep his shit together, the two of them wouldn't last much longer than they already had. Kate wasn't much in the way of a people person, but she decided to mimic Willy's gesture to her.
She reached out and grabbed his sleeve, causing him to look up at her, eyes glassy. She tried to put on her best comforting face, but considering how much pain her whole face was in, she wasn't sure how well the gesture came across - so she relied upon her words.
"It's okay, Willy. I trust you."
Amazingly enough to Kate, the hushed words seemed to do the boy a bit of good. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and composed himself, a lot more easily than Kate herself had managed to. Nodding to no one in particular, Willy cleared his throat and called out to the stranger behind the door. His voice wavered briefly at the beginning, but he cleaned up his confidence quickly after.
"I'll be sure to let them know. Leonard wasn't a very good houseguest. He came in and tried to steal from the owners. Things... happened. You know how it goes."
William took a second more to compose himself. Kate's words had been exactly what he'd needed to hear, and he could deal with his guilt later. Leonard had tried to take his weapon, and so effectively it had been self-defense. He still couldn't place the voice.
"You wouldn't be coming in and trying to steal from the owners, would you?"
He kept up the scenario, though he was aware of how ridiculous it sounded, he felt it best to be cautious. Kate simply lay there, her hand resting on William's leg as a show of support. It was all she could do. She was still too weak to stand and moving her head made her dizzy... but if she could help her friend keep his cool, that would be enough.
Silently, they both hoped for the same thing: a reprieve from the suffering.
Only time would tell if they'd get it.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Wow. Now this is some information. It had not been someone else who had murdered Leonard prior. It was the guy between himself and the door. He was still there, not outside.
God.
Announcements. Announcements. Who was the killer of Leonard again? Scott Whitman? Henry Axford? Willy Apgar? Charlie Cade?
Note to self: write the announcements down.
Or was he bluffing? Was the person unarmed and just waves with the flag "Hey, I have killed Leonard, I am dangerous" to appear more threatening?
Mick would not risk it. He hesitated a few seconds before replying.
"Depends on what there is to steal. Maybe you can share it with me. I'm friendly."
He thought about adding a line.
"If you are."
God.
Announcements. Announcements. Who was the killer of Leonard again? Scott Whitman? Henry Axford? Willy Apgar? Charlie Cade?
Note to self: write the announcements down.
Or was he bluffing? Was the person unarmed and just waves with the flag "Hey, I have killed Leonard, I am dangerous" to appear more threatening?
Mick would not risk it. He hesitated a few seconds before replying.
"Depends on what there is to steal. Maybe you can share it with me. I'm friendly."
He thought about adding a line.
"If you are."
I'm so glad to be back !
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
William grimaced for a moment, his grip still steadfast upon the shotgun. No matter how friendly someone claimed to be, there was always the possibility that they were full of it. There had been many people in the short history of the Program that had claimed friendliness, only to stick a knife in the back of the person they were buddying up to. Hell, Leonard had suggested sticking together, but the only thing he'd wanted to stick with was Willy's shotgun.
That had ended spectacularly, of course.
Feeling a reassuring touch at his knee, he looked down to see that Kate was holding her hand on his leg. Another person might have interpreted the gesture in a different way, but William saw it for exactly what it was: the only support that the battered girl could give. The acknowledgement of trust between the two. In this environment, where the next person through the door could be looking to blow your head off, that was about as good as he was going to get.
He made a mental note - he would not be letting this girl down, no matter what.
As far as the guy on the other side of the door? Well, he knew that someone had killed Leonard, obviously, but other than that, he didn't know much of anything, now did he? Especially not that Kate was there with him. On the flip-side, Willy was sitting in the dark as well. Visibility was lowering and Willy hadn't lit the candles that he'd set out to give them light, and he wasn't sure who it was that happened to be on the other side of that door.
So, he figured, maybe it was time to cut the shit.
"Is there an echo in here? That sounds an awful lot like what Leonard said!" Willy looked down at Kate for a moment. He could see the effort that it was taking the girl to hold back her own terror, and for that, he was thankful. He was scared too, and all of this back-and-forth posturing was making things more and more tense.
"Look, I don't want to hurt you, but I'm also not going to sit around and let someone take shots at me. Who's out there?"
Information was power, and the voice matching up with a friendly face and name would go a long way towards Willy feeling okay about letting them in. As he waited for a response, he reached over and pulled Kate's pack towards her, yanking the zipper down and taking the scimitar out of the pack. He held it out at her, and she tentatively grasped it, the fear making its way back to the forefront.
"Hide it," Willy hissed at her, and she nodded, stuffing the scimitar into the side of the couch, careful not to cut herself. If things did take a left turn and things escalated, it wouldn't do Kate any good to be laying there defenseless. She was conscious, and he trusted her not to do anything stupid.
He hoped she wouldn't have to do anything at all.
That had ended spectacularly, of course.
Feeling a reassuring touch at his knee, he looked down to see that Kate was holding her hand on his leg. Another person might have interpreted the gesture in a different way, but William saw it for exactly what it was: the only support that the battered girl could give. The acknowledgement of trust between the two. In this environment, where the next person through the door could be looking to blow your head off, that was about as good as he was going to get.
He made a mental note - he would not be letting this girl down, no matter what.
As far as the guy on the other side of the door? Well, he knew that someone had killed Leonard, obviously, but other than that, he didn't know much of anything, now did he? Especially not that Kate was there with him. On the flip-side, Willy was sitting in the dark as well. Visibility was lowering and Willy hadn't lit the candles that he'd set out to give them light, and he wasn't sure who it was that happened to be on the other side of that door.
So, he figured, maybe it was time to cut the shit.
"Is there an echo in here? That sounds an awful lot like what Leonard said!" Willy looked down at Kate for a moment. He could see the effort that it was taking the girl to hold back her own terror, and for that, he was thankful. He was scared too, and all of this back-and-forth posturing was making things more and more tense.
"Look, I don't want to hurt you, but I'm also not going to sit around and let someone take shots at me. Who's out there?"
Information was power, and the voice matching up with a friendly face and name would go a long way towards Willy feeling okay about letting them in. As he waited for a response, he reached over and pulled Kate's pack towards her, yanking the zipper down and taking the scimitar out of the pack. He held it out at her, and she tentatively grasped it, the fear making its way back to the forefront.
"Hide it," Willy hissed at her, and she nodded, stuffing the scimitar into the side of the couch, careful not to cut herself. If things did take a left turn and things escalated, it wouldn't do Kate any good to be laying there defenseless. She was conscious, and he trusted her not to do anything stupid.
He hoped she wouldn't have to do anything at all.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Mick's voice showed annoyance. If that guy trusted Leonard and got unexpectedly betrayed by him, this guy behind the door got what he deserved.
"Are you fucking comparing me to Leonard Roycewood? You know I'm better than him."
That voice was familiar. He could not picture the person yet though. Or did he? A blond guy's face came in mind - it was Willy's voice, wasn't it? He was not sure yet, it was hard to tell. Sounded like him. William did kill someone. And it might have been Leonard. That sounded about right.
"It's me. Mick. May I come in?"
Let's count the facts. William Apgar was cowardly hiding alone in this house, has killed Leonard and probably was paranoid. It did not look like he was actively trying to hunt people, though, so there's that.
"Are you fucking comparing me to Leonard Roycewood? You know I'm better than him."
That voice was familiar. He could not picture the person yet though. Or did he? A blond guy's face came in mind - it was Willy's voice, wasn't it? He was not sure yet, it was hard to tell. Sounded like him. William did kill someone. And it might have been Leonard. That sounded about right.
"It's me. Mick. May I come in?"
Let's count the facts. William Apgar was cowardly hiding alone in this house, has killed Leonard and probably was paranoid. It did not look like he was actively trying to hunt people, though, so there's that.
I'm so glad to be back !
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
William clicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. This was a situation that had all the potential to escalate into something that he'd been hoping it wouldn't. Of course - hey, they were all sitting in a death game where the object was 'please murder your friends', so it wasn't like this was totally unexpected.
It was just not the kind of anxiety that was easy to adjust to.
Trying to keep his breathing steady, he looked down at Kate, who had been consciously holding on to the scimitar that was stuffed behind the couch. The poor girl looked about as terrified as could be while having such a badly beaten face. Her bruises were nasty and didn't allow for much emoting on her part. Her eyes were a bit glassy, and she was squinting a little bit, obviously trying to regain focus. As Mick called out from outside, Willy furrowed his brow in concern at Kate. He disregarded Mick's retort and question for the moment.
"You okay?" He hissed at her, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.
Kate gave her head a small shake and gently touched her temple, one of the only areas of her face that wasn't bruised. Her left eye was still swollen and red, and while her vision had returned, everything was blurry and all she could see were colours. Of course, that wasn't the real issue she was having. "My glasses," she looked down at her bag, "I can't really see without them. They should be in the front pocket."
Nodding, William reached down, eyes still on the door, as he found and unzipped the pack, fishing a small pair of glasses out and handing them to the injured girl on the couch. As she put them back on, Kate visibly exhaled, a lot of her concerns about the extent of her injuries departing. Her eye was still sore, swollen, and blurred, but the rest of her vision returned perfectly. Kate's balance was likely still affected and she felt intense vertigo whenever she tried to move further than to reposition herself, but for now, that was fine.
Attention back on the door, Kate slumped down to avoid being seen. The sofa was thankfully faced with its back to the door, so if Mick were to enter the room, he wouldn't be able to see her. William was crouched down behind a table that he'd overturned beside the arm nearest to Kate's head. Giving her a shrug, he whispered again. "I don't think we have a choice."
Before Kate could react - and she did with eyes widened and a short shake of her head, William raised his voice and called out again, thinking back to what he knew about Mick - honestly, not a whole lot.
"All right, Mick. You can come on in. But slowly. I've already been attacked once and I'm not eager for a repeat, you dig?" He tried to keep his cadence light, friendly, while not letting the anxiety trickle in. He was mostly successful.
Mostly.
It was just not the kind of anxiety that was easy to adjust to.
Trying to keep his breathing steady, he looked down at Kate, who had been consciously holding on to the scimitar that was stuffed behind the couch. The poor girl looked about as terrified as could be while having such a badly beaten face. Her bruises were nasty and didn't allow for much emoting on her part. Her eyes were a bit glassy, and she was squinting a little bit, obviously trying to regain focus. As Mick called out from outside, Willy furrowed his brow in concern at Kate. He disregarded Mick's retort and question for the moment.
"You okay?" He hissed at her, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.
Kate gave her head a small shake and gently touched her temple, one of the only areas of her face that wasn't bruised. Her left eye was still swollen and red, and while her vision had returned, everything was blurry and all she could see were colours. Of course, that wasn't the real issue she was having. "My glasses," she looked down at her bag, "I can't really see without them. They should be in the front pocket."
Nodding, William reached down, eyes still on the door, as he found and unzipped the pack, fishing a small pair of glasses out and handing them to the injured girl on the couch. As she put them back on, Kate visibly exhaled, a lot of her concerns about the extent of her injuries departing. Her eye was still sore, swollen, and blurred, but the rest of her vision returned perfectly. Kate's balance was likely still affected and she felt intense vertigo whenever she tried to move further than to reposition herself, but for now, that was fine.
Attention back on the door, Kate slumped down to avoid being seen. The sofa was thankfully faced with its back to the door, so if Mick were to enter the room, he wouldn't be able to see her. William was crouched down behind a table that he'd overturned beside the arm nearest to Kate's head. Giving her a shrug, he whispered again. "I don't think we have a choice."
Before Kate could react - and she did with eyes widened and a short shake of her head, William raised his voice and called out again, thinking back to what he knew about Mick - honestly, not a whole lot.
"All right, Mick. You can come on in. But slowly. I've already been attacked once and I'm not eager for a repeat, you dig?" He tried to keep his cadence light, friendly, while not letting the anxiety trickle in. He was mostly successful.
Mostly.
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Sh4dE
- Posts: 736
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:27 pm
- Location: Whittree, Oklahoma
- Team Affiliation: Claudia's Krakens
Mick anticipated the reply and during the seconds of silence expected the door to be opened or shot or simply exploding. Then he was invited to come in. Mick stepped to the door and slowly opened it. He pushed down the doorhandle and slowly pushed the door so it automatically opened itself. Mick's eyes eagerly looked for someone to be behind the door. As he saw no one ambushing him Mick then pointed the gun at the ground.
Mick faced the couch, looking into the gloomy room.
"Hey, I am not hostile."
Mick faced the couch, looking into the gloomy room.
"Hey, I am not hostile."
I'm so glad to be back !
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Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Mick seemed to look around, wildly searching for someone to be standing and waiting as he slowly opened the door and walked into the room. Willy was wary of this, though the other boy's weapon was pointed at the ground - so that was a start. He took a moment to try and remember anything that he could about Mick Sexsmith, but the only thing that remotely came to mind were the bad frosted tips that he remembered him wearing in class years before. Mitchy had privately laughed repeatedly at Mick's expense, because frosted tips were mildly out of date as far as fashion went.
Other than that? Willy didn't know a whole lot of first-hand information about Mick, outside of the fact that he'd heard his name on the announcements, much like he was sure Mick had probably heard his own name.
He'd have to draw his own conclusions; he knew how fickle what one heard over the announcements could be. Shooting Kate a quick look to stay still, the girl compiled, the look on her face one that seemed to have swallowed something that disagreed with her. He sincerely hoped that she would have to run the risk of attacking anyone in her weakened condition.
And for the sake of her fragile state of mind.
Slowly, William rose to his feet from his crouched position, the shotgun pointed squarely at Mick. He didn't move quickly, but his motion made it be known that he was ready for any kind of response to a violent action that Mick might provoke. Shotgun pointed squarely in Mick's direction, he nodded at the boy.
"Good to know. Sorry for the third degree."
He tilted his head, indicating the cut on his face.
"Not everyone's feeling so amicable lately. Can't imagine why."
William kept his voice even, even casual, though his demeanour was anything but. He hoped against hope that Mick wouldn't try anything.
Other than that? Willy didn't know a whole lot of first-hand information about Mick, outside of the fact that he'd heard his name on the announcements, much like he was sure Mick had probably heard his own name.
He'd have to draw his own conclusions; he knew how fickle what one heard over the announcements could be. Shooting Kate a quick look to stay still, the girl compiled, the look on her face one that seemed to have swallowed something that disagreed with her. He sincerely hoped that she would have to run the risk of attacking anyone in her weakened condition.
And for the sake of her fragile state of mind.
Slowly, William rose to his feet from his crouched position, the shotgun pointed squarely at Mick. He didn't move quickly, but his motion made it be known that he was ready for any kind of response to a violent action that Mick might provoke. Shotgun pointed squarely in Mick's direction, he nodded at the boy.
"Good to know. Sorry for the third degree."
He tilted his head, indicating the cut on his face.
"Not everyone's feeling so amicable lately. Can't imagine why."
William kept his voice even, even casual, though his demeanour was anything but. He hoped against hope that Mick wouldn't try anything.