There was no salvation to be found here, that much was obvious to the naked eye. Any hope of a boat, pontoon, or canoe evaporated almost immediately, and what was worse? The smell. That smell was horrific.
Fisher stifled his gag reflex as the wind picked up and blew towards them, sending his olfactory senses into panic mode. He wasn't sure what death smelled like, but he'd bet a few pounds on it being awfully similar to whatever this was. Stopping to look out at the maze of rickety docks and decrepit platforms, he turned around to look at his travelling companions and summoned his bravery.
"Well, doesn't this just look homey?"
His words sounded upbeat, but his face remained downcast. There was nothing for them here.
((Fisher Darden continued from The Path))
Having eventually put the laminated American historical document back into his pack, Fisher had half a mind to take it out and wobble the damned thing around. He'd been trying to fight off fear as much as he could given the circumstances, and there were times - much like right now - where it threatened to overtake him. He wanted to scream, and cry, and run off, and hide in the deepest hole in the world. Of course, that probably summed up where they were fairly well.
A deep hole, to which there was no escape. So maybe that plan wasn't such a good one. Instead of doing any of that, he simply let his shoulders sag as he gave Freya and Pippa a chance to survey their surroundings. Defeatedly, he half-heartedly glossed over a course of action.
"I don't suppose there's much to find here that hasn't already been picked clean..."
Slowly stepping over to one of the old, rusted barrels that sat around the wharf, he kicked it with the toe of his shoe, leaving it to make a loud dong sound. Thank heavens for silly noises; Fisher Darden would have been out of his own mind otherwise. For all of the auditory stimulus that was making him feel better, he suspected his companions were keeping it together at least a bit better than he was.
"Fucking Americans," he muttered under his breath.
Mr. Wharf? Fire.
Fisher/Pippa/Freya continue; open
((Pippa Andolini continued from The Path))
Well, maybe we should have stayed in that house Freya trashed after all.
Pippa thought this to herself as they made their way through the wharves. Pippa refused to let it show, but even she had to wince a bit at the pungent odor that came from the area. Pippa wasn't much for the smell of fish, especially not when it was fresh from the sea, but she had to roll with it. The group had made their way here, and they thus had to simply accept the location for what it was. They could about face and go somewhere else, but for now, they had to survey the area and see what was of use.
Sadly, there didn't seem to be much. The appropriately-named Fisher seemed to have issues with the lack of resources in the fishing area, and had made his displeasure known by kicking a barrel. Pippa pursed her lips and let out a short hum in response. It seemed she had allied herself with two people who were prone to taking their anger out on inanimate objects. That was all good as long as it never turned towards another person, especially towards her. She certainly needed them to focus that frustration towards something more substantial.
"Well, this is disappointing indeed," Pippa said. "But I suppose we should simply be glad this is what we're given. It could always be worse."
Pippa scratched the side of her neck with her free hand.
"Now, why don't we take a short break to recoup?"
Well, maybe we should have stayed in that house Freya trashed after all.
Pippa thought this to herself as they made their way through the wharves. Pippa refused to let it show, but even she had to wince a bit at the pungent odor that came from the area. Pippa wasn't much for the smell of fish, especially not when it was fresh from the sea, but she had to roll with it. The group had made their way here, and they thus had to simply accept the location for what it was. They could about face and go somewhere else, but for now, they had to survey the area and see what was of use.
Sadly, there didn't seem to be much. The appropriately-named Fisher seemed to have issues with the lack of resources in the fishing area, and had made his displeasure known by kicking a barrel. Pippa pursed her lips and let out a short hum in response. It seemed she had allied herself with two people who were prone to taking their anger out on inanimate objects. That was all good as long as it never turned towards another person, especially towards her. She certainly needed them to focus that frustration towards something more substantial.
"Well, this is disappointing indeed," Pippa said. "But I suppose we should simply be glad this is what we're given. It could always be worse."
Pippa scratched the side of her neck with her free hand.
"Now, why don't we take a short break to recoup?"
G014: Mayumi Tendou
((Freya Nygård continued from The Path))
There was a lot of talk for a lot of nothing. That was Freya's main opinion. Their journey through the village or town they had been dumped in had turned up nothing. They'd met no one else or seen nothing of interest. All they had found was the smell of the fish stall from the Thursday market.
So far they had achieved nothing of tangible value and that frustrated her. She didn't know the exact way things worked but she knew she was on the clock. Each hour that passed without her finding Galahad meant there was a chance something terrible could have happened to him. Impatience, in this case, may not have been the worst thing in the world.
Her eyes stared out at the glittering ocean. It was of no use to her but it was almost a pleasant sight. Her vision was torn away from the horizon when Pippa spoke and her annoyance rose. The other girls' voice was irritating, her cadence, tone and word choice all combined to make Freya angry. She was too put together. A manufactured facade of a person. Freya hated it.
She rested the butt of the musket on the ground as she replied.
"A break? All we did was walk." Her voice was harsh. "It would be a waste of time."
There was a lot of talk for a lot of nothing. That was Freya's main opinion. Their journey through the village or town they had been dumped in had turned up nothing. They'd met no one else or seen nothing of interest. All they had found was the smell of the fish stall from the Thursday market.
So far they had achieved nothing of tangible value and that frustrated her. She didn't know the exact way things worked but she knew she was on the clock. Each hour that passed without her finding Galahad meant there was a chance something terrible could have happened to him. Impatience, in this case, may not have been the worst thing in the world.
Her eyes stared out at the glittering ocean. It was of no use to her but it was almost a pleasant sight. Her vision was torn away from the horizon when Pippa spoke and her annoyance rose. The other girls' voice was irritating, her cadence, tone and word choice all combined to make Freya angry. She was too put together. A manufactured facade of a person. Freya hated it.
She rested the butt of the musket on the ground as she replied.
"A break? All we did was walk." Her voice was harsh. "It would be a waste of time."
Lena had forgotten the other girl’s name, by now. Rare that she forgot the details, but perhaps the fact was that she was actively trying. Failing, much as the color of blood still stained the folds of her gray matter, even when she’d purified it so forcefully off her body.
For once, at least, her vividly familiar past was not nauseating. Nausea had always followed on an empty stomach.
Her stomach, now, full. She’d made sure of that, indulged herself in the feeling that she’d get to live.
It reminded her of Bahía, by the wharf, the one that hadn’t been choked with vessels of refugees and war. That had been the summer before the Americans with their guns had come, that summer that Mommy and Daddy had brought her to the sea. The details, the imagery, were vague, incoherent bits of historic moods and sentence fragments of warm-tone Italian. It was oddly disquieting, that she couldn’t particularly remember the times when she’d been happy and well fed, and could all too clearly recall the times that had been far worse.
But she could remember this, the brine of fish. Fresh.
((Maggie Bianchi continued from Illusion Ain’t Revolution))
Lena carefully took to the stairs with a trepid familiarity, she could remember walking rickety and eroded stairs before. She emerged from the darkness of the pier’s underbelly and harsh sun intimately kissed skin on her neck.
There were people ashore, clustering close enough to the pier’s connection to land to be too close.
She watched, ready to avert her eyes as needed. The tattered rags of her skirt fluttered, whipped up by a sudden ocean breeze that washed over her face cozy as the sensation of her own tears.
For once, at least, her vividly familiar past was not nauseating. Nausea had always followed on an empty stomach.
Her stomach, now, full. She’d made sure of that, indulged herself in the feeling that she’d get to live.
It reminded her of Bahía, by the wharf, the one that hadn’t been choked with vessels of refugees and war. That had been the summer before the Americans with their guns had come, that summer that Mommy and Daddy had brought her to the sea. The details, the imagery, were vague, incoherent bits of historic moods and sentence fragments of warm-tone Italian. It was oddly disquieting, that she couldn’t particularly remember the times when she’d been happy and well fed, and could all too clearly recall the times that had been far worse.
But she could remember this, the brine of fish. Fresh.
((Maggie Bianchi continued from Illusion Ain’t Revolution))
Lena carefully took to the stairs with a trepid familiarity, she could remember walking rickety and eroded stairs before. She emerged from the darkness of the pier’s underbelly and harsh sun intimately kissed skin on her neck.
There were people ashore, clustering close enough to the pier’s connection to land to be too close.
She watched, ready to avert her eyes as needed. The tattered rags of her skirt fluttered, whipped up by a sudden ocean breeze that washed over her face cozy as the sensation of her own tears.
Upcoming:
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Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
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Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
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Cactus
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It could be worse? Fisher failed to cover his look of disbelief at Pippa's words. He wasn't sure exactly how it could get any worse than it already was. They'd been kidnapped by American soldiers, forced to fight to the death, and she thought things could be worse? Fisher was usually an optimist, but come on. Things were pretty well at the bottom of the barrel that he'd kicked.
Forcing himself to relax, he gathered that it was probably his own fear that was causing him to get his haunches up at her words. It might have been what she said, or even the formality with which she said it, but every time Pippa opened her mouth, his annoyance level rose a little bit. It wasn't fair, but none of this was, so he accepted it.
"I don't think a break is going to do us any good, either. Besides," he trailed off, crinkling his nose at the pungent aroma, "something smells pretty raunchy around here."
Freya seemed more outwardly aggressively annoyed than he was, and Pippa's leadership skills seemed very 'corporate leadership retreat', so he thought maybe some proactivity would help. He turned to Freya, trying to block the smell from his nose.
"Wandering aimlessly isn't going to do us any good. You said you wanted to find Galahad, right? If you were him, what would you do? Is there anywhere that he'd try to go, something that you think he'd do?" He shrugged. It wasn't like he was an expert on finding people, but they seemed like good questions to ask. Anything to keep his mind busy, to stave off the feeling of oncoming dread.
Forcing himself to relax, he gathered that it was probably his own fear that was causing him to get his haunches up at her words. It might have been what she said, or even the formality with which she said it, but every time Pippa opened her mouth, his annoyance level rose a little bit. It wasn't fair, but none of this was, so he accepted it.
"I don't think a break is going to do us any good, either. Besides," he trailed off, crinkling his nose at the pungent aroma, "something smells pretty raunchy around here."
Freya seemed more outwardly aggressively annoyed than he was, and Pippa's leadership skills seemed very 'corporate leadership retreat', so he thought maybe some proactivity would help. He turned to Freya, trying to block the smell from his nose.
"Wandering aimlessly isn't going to do us any good. You said you wanted to find Galahad, right? If you were him, what would you do? Is there anywhere that he'd try to go, something that you think he'd do?" He shrugged. It wasn't like he was an expert on finding people, but they seemed like good questions to ask. Anything to keep his mind busy, to stave off the feeling of oncoming dread.
Pippa had to seriously resist the urge to roll her eyes at her companions. They both seemed so adverse to the idea of taking a break, and then Fisher went ahead to ask Freya where Galahad where he might be. You know, the sort of thing they could do while remaining in place, resting their bodies momentarily before moving on to the next location. Pippa would call that "a break," but clearly, they took different English classes than her and developed a different vocabulary growing up.
It didn't matter their definition. Either way, they were right to at least try to think like Galahad and see where he might be. Surely Freya could take that moment, or "a break," to think like her friend and try to ascertain where in the area he could be. Pippa would allow her that time to think of where he could be.
Before Freya could offer any ideas, Pippa noticed someone else in the area. They seemed to be a bit far away from the group, but either way, they weren't alone.
"Hey, there's someone over there," Pippa told the two.
Her eyes glanced over to Freya's gun, then back to the new person. Freya was their unofficial first defense, so Pippa had to hope the girl was prepared to defend her and Fisher if the situation called for it.
It didn't matter their definition. Either way, they were right to at least try to think like Galahad and see where he might be. Surely Freya could take that moment, or "a break," to think like her friend and try to ascertain where in the area he could be. Pippa would allow her that time to think of where he could be.
Before Freya could offer any ideas, Pippa noticed someone else in the area. They seemed to be a bit far away from the group, but either way, they weren't alone.
"Hey, there's someone over there," Pippa told the two.
Her eyes glanced over to Freya's gun, then back to the new person. Freya was their unofficial first defense, so Pippa had to hope the girl was prepared to defend her and Fisher if the situation called for it.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
Fisher agreed with her, which was good. He also offered an idea, which was even better. But before Freya could respond to him Pippa interrupted. Freya turned to snap at the girl but then her brain processed what she had actually said. There was someone else nearby. The mention of their presence put Freya on edge. She'd gotten lucky with meeting Fisher and Pippa, while they both annoyed her they were at least sane and willing to work with her.
A new person complicated that in the worst possible way. There was a lot to consider. If they were a threat being the most immediately important factor to take into account. But that was hard to judge. Freya was confident she could take anyone in the school in a straight fight. That did, of course, require her to have a straight-up fight with someone, but since everyone seemed to have been given different weapons there wasn't much chance of that.
So Freya responded in the only way she knew how.
"Hey!" She called out to the new arrival. "What the fuck do you want?"
A new person complicated that in the worst possible way. There was a lot to consider. If they were a threat being the most immediately important factor to take into account. But that was hard to judge. Freya was confident she could take anyone in the school in a straight fight. That did, of course, require her to have a straight-up fight with someone, but since everyone seemed to have been given different weapons there wasn't much chance of that.
So Freya responded in the only way she knew how.
"Hey!" She called out to the new arrival. "What the fuck do you want?"
She couldn't kid herself, she'd lived lonely with her thoughts too many years for that.
She knew what she'd done was unforgivable. Nobody could grant her repentance. Least of all herself. She could not redeem herself by surviving, by helping others survive. No, that was not what this was about. She really didn't know why she insistently chose to live.
It was eerily familiar, evocative of her younger life. Running, without quite understanding why.
You must be quiet. Her memory echoed, and she forced herself to wrench open her bloody-rust mouth and speak with dry lips.
"T-they... I... someone's already dead."
Lena held up her hands, showed empty palms in a pure flesh color. Stepped closer, boards creaking under her feet. Silently stealing enough distance between them that her weak shout could weaken.
"... T-they. Uh... I was scared." Not a lie. "I got away as fast as I could." Not a lie. "I d-duh.. don't remember. Who it was."
With some artistic license involving the canvas of her mind, not a lie.
"Better safety in numbers. I guess."
She knew what she'd done was unforgivable. Nobody could grant her repentance. Least of all herself. She could not redeem herself by surviving, by helping others survive. No, that was not what this was about. She really didn't know why she insistently chose to live.
It was eerily familiar, evocative of her younger life. Running, without quite understanding why.
You must be quiet. Her memory echoed, and she forced herself to wrench open her bloody-rust mouth and speak with dry lips.
"T-they... I... someone's already dead."
Lena held up her hands, showed empty palms in a pure flesh color. Stepped closer, boards creaking under her feet. Silently stealing enough distance between them that her weak shout could weaken.
"... T-they. Uh... I was scared." Not a lie. "I got away as fast as I could." Not a lie. "I d-duh.. don't remember. Who it was."
With some artistic license involving the canvas of her mind, not a lie.
"Better safety in numbers. I guess."
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
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Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
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Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
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Cactus
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Someone's. Already. Dead.
The words sent an innumerable series of chills down Fisher's spine, to the point of which he wondered if he wasn't actually having a seizure. He wasn't, but the blood drained from his face a little as he wrapped his own arms around his sides. For warmth, he told himself, but the truth was more basic than that.
Careful not to interject, Fisher was more than happy to let Freya or Pippa take the lead in dealing with the new girl. While leadership wasn't something he shied away from, the personalities of his two companions meant that one had to work relatively hard to avoid conflict, which seemed to be lurking around every corner. Trying not to stare, Fisher worked to identify her. A name wasn't coming to mind - she was a classmate, of course, but she was one of the quiet ones whom he'd never really had any reason to speak. She was a runner...? Or was she in choir?
He wasn't sure; couldn't remember. So that mystery would go unsolved for the time being. Freya had been point-blank in asking the new arrival what her business was, and outside of the three words that had rocked Fisher's worldview, she'd said more. He'd barely registered the rest, but he went over it in his head.
The new voice chiming in surprised him, particularly once he realized that it was his own.
"Where did you," he changed his mind, "I mean. How did you know they were dead?"
He didn't want to believe it. They'd gone over the possibility that people would choose to take the hard way out, but it still barely made sense to him that killing a fellow student would be in any world an option. Of course, it was.
That was; in fact, the point of this grand new world they now inhabited.
As he waited for an answer, an acknowledgement, he shivered once more. It must have been the wind. Right.
The words sent an innumerable series of chills down Fisher's spine, to the point of which he wondered if he wasn't actually having a seizure. He wasn't, but the blood drained from his face a little as he wrapped his own arms around his sides. For warmth, he told himself, but the truth was more basic than that.
Careful not to interject, Fisher was more than happy to let Freya or Pippa take the lead in dealing with the new girl. While leadership wasn't something he shied away from, the personalities of his two companions meant that one had to work relatively hard to avoid conflict, which seemed to be lurking around every corner. Trying not to stare, Fisher worked to identify her. A name wasn't coming to mind - she was a classmate, of course, but she was one of the quiet ones whom he'd never really had any reason to speak. She was a runner...? Or was she in choir?
He wasn't sure; couldn't remember. So that mystery would go unsolved for the time being. Freya had been point-blank in asking the new arrival what her business was, and outside of the three words that had rocked Fisher's worldview, she'd said more. He'd barely registered the rest, but he went over it in his head.
The new voice chiming in surprised him, particularly once he realized that it was his own.
"Where did you," he changed his mind, "I mean. How did you know they were dead?"
He didn't want to believe it. They'd gone over the possibility that people would choose to take the hard way out, but it still barely made sense to him that killing a fellow student would be in any world an option. Of course, it was.
That was; in fact, the point of this grand new world they now inhabited.
As he waited for an answer, an acknowledgement, he shivered once more. It must have been the wind. Right.
Pippa had wished that Freya had used less-threatening words to address the new person. It was foolish to assume the person wanted anything or had cruel intentions. Now the other girl was stuttering and trying to explain something to them. From what Pippa could surmise, the girl had seen someone die. Pippa wasn't that surprised someone was already dead. It was simple to assume her class would be better than the savage Americans if put into such a game, but she could understand if someone was desperate enough to give in.
It looked like this girl may have, though. Her wording was a bit vague, but it sounded like she was the one to kill that person, whoever it was. Fisher wasn't getting much out of the interview with the girl, so Pippa was prepared to speak when she heard a loud sound. She held a finger up and froze, waiting as an American military official's voice filled the area with an update on the death toll.
So far, four people were dead, and four people were now killers. Cedric, Calista, Rue, and Morton were gone. Pippa had to try and remember who each of them were so she could try to understand who was no longer with them. But it was the names of the killers that struck her more. Yian, Victoria, and Michelle were killers. It was the other name that suddenly took Pippa's interest, because she could remember exactly who this person was: the girl right before them.
Once the announcements stopped, Pippa lowered her hand and clutched it into a fist, keeping a tight grip on the knife in her other hand. She looked at the girl and tried to speak calmly to the murderer before them.
"Lena," she said, her voice stern and direct. "You better tell us the truth. You killed Calista, so explain what really happened."
She hoped Fisher and Freya understood exactly who was before them and what that meant. She had no idea who Lena was in this place, so they had to all be very careful over the next few minutes or the death toll would suddenly spike.
It looked like this girl may have, though. Her wording was a bit vague, but it sounded like she was the one to kill that person, whoever it was. Fisher wasn't getting much out of the interview with the girl, so Pippa was prepared to speak when she heard a loud sound. She held a finger up and froze, waiting as an American military official's voice filled the area with an update on the death toll.
So far, four people were dead, and four people were now killers. Cedric, Calista, Rue, and Morton were gone. Pippa had to try and remember who each of them were so she could try to understand who was no longer with them. But it was the names of the killers that struck her more. Yian, Victoria, and Michelle were killers. It was the other name that suddenly took Pippa's interest, because she could remember exactly who this person was: the girl right before them.
Once the announcements stopped, Pippa lowered her hand and clutched it into a fist, keeping a tight grip on the knife in her other hand. She looked at the girl and tried to speak calmly to the murderer before them.
"Lena," she said, her voice stern and direct. "You better tell us the truth. You killed Calista, so explain what really happened."
She hoped Fisher and Freya understood exactly who was before them and what that meant. She had no idea who Lena was in this place, so they had to all be very careful over the next few minutes or the death toll would suddenly spike.
G014: Mayumi Tendou
For the first time since waking up, Freya was lost for words.
The statement that someone was already dead had caught her off-guard. She didn't think they'd been awake that long. Maybe she had been fooling herself into believing that everyone would look at what the Americans wanted to them to do and tell them to go fuck themselves. She had hoped that everyone would have had some sense but they always said desperate people act without thinking. That was all she could think of. That in their desperation, maybe they believed the Americans would actually let them go if they won?
Fisher spoke before her own brain could cobble any words together. He asked the obvious questions but she didn't snap at him. Then before anything could be resolved speakers burst into life and a voice echoed across the area. The man, whose voice Freya couldn't recognize through the crackling. Was it the man from when they originally woke up?
It was disgusting but Freya still listened. She needed to know. Galahad's name didn't appear, which was a relief but four of their classmates had still died. What was worse was all four of them were murdered by another. It hadn't been that long and they were already killing each other.
Which brought them to the girl in front of their group. It wasn't until the announcement and Pippa both mentioned the name that it clicked into place for Freya. She knew the girl from school but the name had been escaping her. But it was Lena, she was the girl from the announcement who had killed Calista with a knife from what had been said.
Freya had never been close to either, but that didn't matter anymore. Lena had still killed someone. Therefore she was both a murderer and a threat.
Her hands adjusted her grip on the musket as she moved it up slightly.
"Yeah, tell us what fucking happened."
The statement that someone was already dead had caught her off-guard. She didn't think they'd been awake that long. Maybe she had been fooling herself into believing that everyone would look at what the Americans wanted to them to do and tell them to go fuck themselves. She had hoped that everyone would have had some sense but they always said desperate people act without thinking. That was all she could think of. That in their desperation, maybe they believed the Americans would actually let them go if they won?
Fisher spoke before her own brain could cobble any words together. He asked the obvious questions but she didn't snap at him. Then before anything could be resolved speakers burst into life and a voice echoed across the area. The man, whose voice Freya couldn't recognize through the crackling. Was it the man from when they originally woke up?
It was disgusting but Freya still listened. She needed to know. Galahad's name didn't appear, which was a relief but four of their classmates had still died. What was worse was all four of them were murdered by another. It hadn't been that long and they were already killing each other.
Which brought them to the girl in front of their group. It wasn't until the announcement and Pippa both mentioned the name that it clicked into place for Freya. She knew the girl from school but the name had been escaping her. But it was Lena, she was the girl from the announcement who had killed Calista with a knife from what had been said.
Freya had never been close to either, but that didn't matter anymore. Lena had still killed someone. Therefore she was both a murderer and a threat.
Her hands adjusted her grip on the musket as she moved it up slightly.
"Yeah, tell us what fucking happened."
The warble of the speakers was aged 'til desert sand bleached the bones. Loud, painfully so. But of course, the content mattered most of all. Calista. That was right, that had been her name. Lena would not be permitted to forget.
Her body had statuesque weight to it, smothered by gravity. Much as, by instinct at least, she wished she could flee. Her mind was blank canvas turned to an ominously serene seascape, brine and salt clogged her nose. Metallic whiff too, like that of blood. She was keenly aware of the orientation of the warped wood below her, a stiff sea breeze reminded her that one wrong step could have tumbled her into the deeps below.
She didn't want to go there, much as she had no excuse to the contrary to stay.
"I did it," Lena blurted all too quickly.
"S-she... uh- she shot first. I didn't want to-.. circumstances..."
They were all looking at her, or she felt that and couldn't confirm as much.
"I didn't mean for anything to happen. I swear!"
She didn't know if she meant it, but her voice at least sounded more solid than she actually felt herself to be. Shame that she'd never spoken with this much conviction back when in those quiet British countryside days that her life hadn't forcibly become her nightmares re-iterated into her present day and time. She held on tight to the waist of her skirt, continued to feel like she could fall backwards into the murky sea without moving a step or a hair or in any amount's worth of eye contact.
Her body had statuesque weight to it, smothered by gravity. Much as, by instinct at least, she wished she could flee. Her mind was blank canvas turned to an ominously serene seascape, brine and salt clogged her nose. Metallic whiff too, like that of blood. She was keenly aware of the orientation of the warped wood below her, a stiff sea breeze reminded her that one wrong step could have tumbled her into the deeps below.
She didn't want to go there, much as she had no excuse to the contrary to stay.
"I did it," Lena blurted all too quickly.
"S-she... uh- she shot first. I didn't want to-.. circumstances..."
They were all looking at her, or she felt that and couldn't confirm as much.
"I didn't mean for anything to happen. I swear!"
She didn't know if she meant it, but her voice at least sounded more solid than she actually felt herself to be. Shame that she'd never spoken with this much conviction back when in those quiet British countryside days that her life hadn't forcibly become her nightmares re-iterated into her present day and time. She held on tight to the waist of her skirt, continued to feel like she could fall backwards into the murky sea without moving a step or a hair or in any amount's worth of eye contact.
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
-
Cactus
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Tue Aug 07, 2018 6:25 pm
- Location: Toronto, Canada
- Team Affiliation: Malcolm's Mariners
Fisher felt as though a giant hand had reached over to the temperature knob of the world and cranked it up a few notches. It had been one thing to think that their classmates and friends would actually start murdering one another, but to have the speakers all simultaneously crackle to life and start listing off the casualties as though it were a military after-action report was a bit too much for him to bear. His face flushed and his heart-rate started to spike again.
It was hard to believe that there were so many different levels of fear and anxiety, but as the old saying went: you learned something new every day. Another nugget of information that he'd learned was that the new girl in front of them whom had professed to see a dead body had actually created one of the dead bodies herself.
Lena was a murderer.
As the majority of his agency in the situation fled his body, Fisher felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Lena's explanation was hollow, flaccid, and didn't hold much water; as far as he was concerned, she wasn't going to be able to explain this away. Not bloody likely.
"Circumstances," he repeated, trying to yank his wandering mind back from wherever it had gone after the announcement. "What circumstances can make you kill someone?"
It could have been self-defense; sure, but something nagged at the back of his mind from what the man on the speaker had said. Fisher looked anxiously over at Freya, who held all of the cards as far as their defense was concerned. His fight or flight response was on the verge of triggering, and he opened his stance a little. He could outrun a knife if need be. But his wobbly laminate wasn't going to be much help in the way of defense. Looking back at the murderer, Fisher poked another hole in her story.
"We all heard what that man said. That you carved her up." He took a deep breath, summoned all of his gumption and hoped Pippa and Freya were on the same page as the leap he was about to take.
"I don't believe you. You should go."
His heart continued to pound away in his chest, which distracted Fisher from the fact that his hands were trembling at his sides.
It was hard to believe that there were so many different levels of fear and anxiety, but as the old saying went: you learned something new every day. Another nugget of information that he'd learned was that the new girl in front of them whom had professed to see a dead body had actually created one of the dead bodies herself.
Lena was a murderer.
As the majority of his agency in the situation fled his body, Fisher felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Lena's explanation was hollow, flaccid, and didn't hold much water; as far as he was concerned, she wasn't going to be able to explain this away. Not bloody likely.
"Circumstances," he repeated, trying to yank his wandering mind back from wherever it had gone after the announcement. "What circumstances can make you kill someone?"
It could have been self-defense; sure, but something nagged at the back of his mind from what the man on the speaker had said. Fisher looked anxiously over at Freya, who held all of the cards as far as their defense was concerned. His fight or flight response was on the verge of triggering, and he opened his stance a little. He could outrun a knife if need be. But his wobbly laminate wasn't going to be much help in the way of defense. Looking back at the murderer, Fisher poked another hole in her story.
"We all heard what that man said. That you carved her up." He took a deep breath, summoned all of his gumption and hoped Pippa and Freya were on the same page as the leap he was about to take.
"I don't believe you. You should go."
His heart continued to pound away in his chest, which distracted Fisher from the fact that his hands were trembling at his sides.
Pippa tried to remain calm and collected as she waited for Lena to explain herself. She had to keep a tight grip on the knife as the other girl stammered out her response. She wasn't sure how this would go, but either way, Pippa knew it was best for the group to leave Lena behind. She was a liability, and Pippa didn't need liabilities with her. Fisher and Freya still had to prove themselves to her, but for the immediate future, she could count on them more than she could Lena.
Pippa slowly exhaled and took a step back.
"Sorry, Lena, but Fisher's right," she began. "Your story doesn't match the American's, and unless this is just more of their anti-British propaganda, we can't take your word."
Pippa glanced at Fisher and Freya.
"We can't take risks like that now."
Pippa slowly exhaled and took a step back.
"Sorry, Lena, but Fisher's right," she began. "Your story doesn't match the American's, and unless this is just more of their anti-British propaganda, we can't take your word."
Pippa glanced at Fisher and Freya.
"We can't take risks like that now."
G014: Mayumi Tendou
Freya listened as another side of the story was told. She didn't say anything as she processed it, there was a lot of reasons she could have discarded the story she was being told. There was no reason to trust Lena but there was also no reason to trust the Americans. They had convinced an entire country to go along with a death game to the point where it being prevented was worthy of reprisal. There had to be a powerful propaganda machine behind it to get that reaction.
Then, at that moment it all clicked for Freya. She realised there was no way to prove what had happened for themselves without finding a witness. They only had Lena's story and what the Americans were telling them to go off. There was nothing to stop the Americans from twisting the reality of what had happened to suit their narrative. Shit, they had already done it once. It was just another form of control for them.
So as Pippa looked over at her and then back at Lena, Freya put a hand out in front of herself. It was almost like a stop motion.
"Wait," Freya lowered the musket in her grip and stepped forward. "I don't know about you guys, but it's her word versus the Americans." Freya ran her eyes over Lena, Pippa, and Fisher.
"And I know I trust her more than those assholes."
Then, at that moment it all clicked for Freya. She realised there was no way to prove what had happened for themselves without finding a witness. They only had Lena's story and what the Americans were telling them to go off. There was nothing to stop the Americans from twisting the reality of what had happened to suit their narrative. Shit, they had already done it once. It was just another form of control for them.
So as Pippa looked over at her and then back at Lena, Freya put a hand out in front of herself. It was almost like a stop motion.
"Wait," Freya lowered the musket in her grip and stepped forward. "I don't know about you guys, but it's her word versus the Americans." Freya ran her eyes over Lena, Pippa, and Fisher.
"And I know I trust her more than those assholes."