"I..."
"I dunno. Just screwed one way or another, I guess."
" I mean, even if things went a little better, and I didn't get stuck with every psycho motherfucker in the class, If I followed y'all or like- really did anything different."
Bandaged hands pointed to a bandaged face.
"Still stuck with this shit."
C-WALK
Geti t because they're CRIPpled lmao hehe| Hospital stuff. It's open!
Moderator: SOTF Supers Staff
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Carrion Queen
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((Ximena continued from A Hospital Bed ))
Ximena opened her eyes and grinned.
It soon became evident that she was not alone in the room, and that whoever she was with was mid-conversation. As she processed the content of the discussion and the tone of voice, she recognized who it was.
"Even when, even when we were there, nobody listened to me. Alan was there, he saw the shit that happened, and he still didn't believe me..."
The grin melted into a neutral expression and then further into a frown. Near her, a heart monitor displayed her vitals. The number began to steadily climb upwards, flashing red.
Her eyes narrowed and she sat up, sliding the IV tube out of her arm with a deep breath. She then ripped the monitor attachment off and it displayed all zeros.
Ximena stood up out of her bed, her bare feet against the cold linoleum floor. She seemed to be wearing some kind of plain t-shirt and sweats. Bandages covered the left side of her jaw and her forehead.
"You just --" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "You just sit there and you fucking lie?" she hissed, feeling her heart pound in her chest. She grabbed hold of the door frame behind her to steady herself. "Alan -- he -- he told me. You wanted revenge. He didn't wanna help you kill yourself, you fuck."
Ximena's hands began to glow slightly, though one was partly obscured by the bandages around it. He had the nerve to whine after she and Stephen decided to take him with them only because Alan asked them to; he put his own life on the line to get them to agree. She could kill Crispin. She could kill him right now, and it would look like an accident. Just a little time to the brain or the heart and they'd think it was an aneurysm or a heart attack. No one would ever have to know.
Thoughts of post-game murder were interrupted by a hand on her shoulder that pulled her out of the room.
"Stephen," she said, face to face with Bones. Her heart rate went down and she seemed to think better than doing something rash, as well as remember something she needed to talk to him about.
Well, she needed to talk to him and they both needed to eat something besides flavorless mush.
((Ximena continued in you nearly die and all you get's a Olive Garden))
Ximena opened her eyes and grinned.
It soon became evident that she was not alone in the room, and that whoever she was with was mid-conversation. As she processed the content of the discussion and the tone of voice, she recognized who it was.
"Even when, even when we were there, nobody listened to me. Alan was there, he saw the shit that happened, and he still didn't believe me..."
The grin melted into a neutral expression and then further into a frown. Near her, a heart monitor displayed her vitals. The number began to steadily climb upwards, flashing red.
Her eyes narrowed and she sat up, sliding the IV tube out of her arm with a deep breath. She then ripped the monitor attachment off and it displayed all zeros.
Ximena stood up out of her bed, her bare feet against the cold linoleum floor. She seemed to be wearing some kind of plain t-shirt and sweats. Bandages covered the left side of her jaw and her forehead.
"You just --" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "You just sit there and you fucking lie?" she hissed, feeling her heart pound in her chest. She grabbed hold of the door frame behind her to steady herself. "Alan -- he -- he told me. You wanted revenge. He didn't wanna help you kill yourself, you fuck."
Ximena's hands began to glow slightly, though one was partly obscured by the bandages around it. He had the nerve to whine after she and Stephen decided to take him with them only because Alan asked them to; he put his own life on the line to get them to agree. She could kill Crispin. She could kill him right now, and it would look like an accident. Just a little time to the brain or the heart and they'd think it was an aneurysm or a heart attack. No one would ever have to know.
Thoughts of post-game murder were interrupted by a hand on her shoulder that pulled her out of the room.
"Stephen," she said, face to face with Bones. Her heart rate went down and she seemed to think better than doing something rash, as well as remember something she needed to talk to him about.
Well, she needed to talk to him and they both needed to eat something besides flavorless mush.
((Ximena continued in you nearly die and all you get's a Olive Garden))
"Bitch the fuck?!"
Crispin sat up, though his bed ridden vertigo made him dizzy. He could understand someone getting mad about him. Happened a million times before. Wouldn't be the last time either. But she had the fucking audacity to call him a fucking liar? "You fuckin' serious?"
"You weren't fuckin' there, you don't know shit! After Moose died, he said we was done, that was it. He went his way, I stayed and buried Moose, he tell you that part, or did he not come back and even check?! I did a lot of bad shit, but I ain't fuckin' lied! This the shit I always fuckin' dealed with! You motherfuckers always talking about shit you don't know! You jump in shit that don't invol-"
"Yeah, fuck outta here! Fuck out my face, bitch! Call me a motherfuckin' liar, bitch you don't know shit!" He threw his pillow at the door and lied on his bed, hands shaking. He lied there, millions of words coming through his head, that urge to go apeshit that he picked up in the desert hadn't left.
"This fuckin' shit right here. Motherfuckers always jump in, always talking shit coz they think they know shit when they don't know shit at all. Fuckin' hate my ass but they all want to be my ass coz they know about what I been through and what I had to do more than I do. Fuck 'em."
The George Lopez show continued.
"Man shut the fuck up." Crispy pressed the mute button on the remote.
"I wish one of these motherfuckers would go through what I did. Let them see how easy that shit is."
Crispin sat up, though his bed ridden vertigo made him dizzy. He could understand someone getting mad about him. Happened a million times before. Wouldn't be the last time either. But she had the fucking audacity to call him a fucking liar? "You fuckin' serious?"
"You weren't fuckin' there, you don't know shit! After Moose died, he said we was done, that was it. He went his way, I stayed and buried Moose, he tell you that part, or did he not come back and even check?! I did a lot of bad shit, but I ain't fuckin' lied! This the shit I always fuckin' dealed with! You motherfuckers always talking about shit you don't know! You jump in shit that don't invol-"
"Yeah, fuck outta here! Fuck out my face, bitch! Call me a motherfuckin' liar, bitch you don't know shit!" He threw his pillow at the door and lied on his bed, hands shaking. He lied there, millions of words coming through his head, that urge to go apeshit that he picked up in the desert hadn't left.
"This fuckin' shit right here. Motherfuckers always jump in, always talking shit coz they think they know shit when they don't know shit at all. Fuckin' hate my ass but they all want to be my ass coz they know about what I been through and what I had to do more than I do. Fuck 'em."
The George Lopez show continued.
"Man shut the fuck up." Crispy pressed the mute button on the remote.
"I wish one of these motherfuckers would go through what I did. Let them see how easy that shit is."
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
((Astrid rolled over in her hospital bed.))
"Actually, I also killed four people." She mumbled quietly.
"Actually, I also killed four people." She mumbled quietly.
"-Don't even know why I fuckin' bother anymore..."
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
"I meant I killed three people."
Astrid yawned a very constricted yawn.
"But anyways, I don't care about any of this. You people woke me up. I have no stakes in this, I have no loyalties, I don't know what the story is. It's irrelevant and I'm not trying to fight you." She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "But... just some advice for dealing with the court of public opinion, because we're probably both gonna have to do that: People who are mad at you won't ever think about starting to consider your side of the story when you scream it at them while throwing shit across the room."
Astrid yawned a very constricted yawn.
"But anyways, I don't care about any of this. You people woke me up. I have no stakes in this, I have no loyalties, I don't know what the story is. It's irrelevant and I'm not trying to fight you." She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "But... just some advice for dealing with the court of public opinion, because we're probably both gonna have to do that: People who are mad at you won't ever think about starting to consider your side of the story when you scream it at them while throwing shit across the room."
“They ain’t gonna do it anyways…”
Crispin got out of bed, grabbed his pillow. Flopped back into bed.
“If I was as bad as everyone said I was, I’d have been the last one standing anyways.”
“Ion’t give a fuck.”
Crispin got out of bed, grabbed his pillow. Flopped back into bed.
“If I was as bad as everyone said I was, I’d have been the last one standing anyways.”
“Ion’t give a fuck.”
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
Claudia had already given up on speaking a little bit before the whole argument. Everything hurt too much to continue.
((God, she needed morphine so fucking badly.))
((God, she needed morphine so fucking badly.))
((Crispin closed his eye. He was done with this.))
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
"You probably wouldn't be the last one. I'd have shot you in the back before you even knew I was there." Astrid mumbled, a few seconds after Crispin had closed his eye.
((She rolled back over.))
((She rolled back over.))
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Carrion Queen
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((Ximena returned from Olive Garden ))
She was staring at the ceiling of the hospital and felt exhausted, but was unable to sleep. Limply, she tried to move her right hand, which could only slide up and down the length of the side of the bed. The handcuff rattled and clanked when she moved.
Ximena closed her eyes. The questioning had lasted a few hours. She had not committed any murder and had been present for two deaths, but this was not the bulk of the conversation. A fed was there along with police, and also one other guy who don’t talk. They were interested in how she got out, and at least an hour alone had been dedicated to what she saw when she came upon the car and the RV.
Ximena was told that she had stolen the animal gang’s car and may have been the last person to see the man dressed in black aside from whoever killed him.
Since she was the only one to have contact with the criminals after the start, some questions seemed designed to glean if she’d been secretly working with them. They apologized and said they had to ask such things.
“So you drove the car back?” asked one guy.
“I already said I did,” replied Ximena with her cheek on the table. She couldn’t hold her head up anymore and didn’t know what time it was.
“I had to,” she mumbled, only half aware of what she was saying anymore.
They escorted her back and handcuffed her to the bed, saying she wasn’t going to take anymore strolls outside the hospital. They also said her family had been told she was here.
“Cool,” she sighed, not particularly excited or expecting for all her immediate family to come.
Clank.
She was staring at the ceiling of the hospital and felt exhausted, but was unable to sleep. Limply, she tried to move her right hand, which could only slide up and down the length of the side of the bed. The handcuff rattled and clanked when she moved.
Ximena closed her eyes. The questioning had lasted a few hours. She had not committed any murder and had been present for two deaths, but this was not the bulk of the conversation. A fed was there along with police, and also one other guy who don’t talk. They were interested in how she got out, and at least an hour alone had been dedicated to what she saw when she came upon the car and the RV.
Ximena was told that she had stolen the animal gang’s car and may have been the last person to see the man dressed in black aside from whoever killed him.
Since she was the only one to have contact with the criminals after the start, some questions seemed designed to glean if she’d been secretly working with them. They apologized and said they had to ask such things.
“So you drove the car back?” asked one guy.
“I already said I did,” replied Ximena with her cheek on the table. She couldn’t hold her head up anymore and didn’t know what time it was.
“I had to,” she mumbled, only half aware of what she was saying anymore.
They escorted her back and handcuffed her to the bed, saying she wasn’t going to take anymore strolls outside the hospital. They also said her family had been told she was here.
“Cool,” she sighed, not particularly excited or expecting for all her immediate family to come.
Clank.
((Cecilia had been sleeping unobtrusively elsewhere in the room. But it was hard to sleep when La Ardilla was shouting his lungs out.))
She rubbed her eyes and sat up. It seemed like a lot of people were awake still. If their interrogations had been even a fraction as hostile as Cecilia's had been, she didn't blame them at all for not being able to sleep. She'd barely been able to nod off herself. Being in a room full of murderers, right after you'd been told that you were a criminal and you were going to be in so, so much trouble for things you hadn't done on purpose or hadn't known you weren't allowed to do, had a way of doing that to you.
When she'd gotten back from the interrogation, she'd been afraid. She'd been scared and anxious, and self-conscious for bawling in front of the translator cop. And her first instinct, her only instinct, had been to talk to Mattie about it, because Mattie was safe, and Mattie would listen, and Mattie would say the right thing. And for half a second, she looked for him, actually looked, and then the glass shattered inside her mind and she remembered that he wasn't there. And he wasn't going to be there. He would never be there. She'd curled into a lonely ball of misery, and stayed in that position until she fell asleep.
But she was awake now, and she still wanted to talk. Still wanted to get the worries out there, so that someone else could inspect them and tell her not to worry about it, or, at least, give her an indication of how much she needed to worry. She padded softly over to Ximena's bed, and saw the thin metal bracelet around her wrist. Ximena was handcuffed to the bed. Why? Ximena hadn't killed anybody, as far as Cecilia knew. Were they going to do that to everyone? They hadn't handcuffed Cecilia. Not yet, anyway. But given how many crimes they were looking at charging her with, they probably would be, soon enough.
She couldn't tell if Ximena was sleeping or not. If she was, she didn't want to wake her. She kept her voice low, trying not to disturb anyone else. "Ximena... ¿Estas despierta?"
She rubbed her eyes and sat up. It seemed like a lot of people were awake still. If their interrogations had been even a fraction as hostile as Cecilia's had been, she didn't blame them at all for not being able to sleep. She'd barely been able to nod off herself. Being in a room full of murderers, right after you'd been told that you were a criminal and you were going to be in so, so much trouble for things you hadn't done on purpose or hadn't known you weren't allowed to do, had a way of doing that to you.
When she'd gotten back from the interrogation, she'd been afraid. She'd been scared and anxious, and self-conscious for bawling in front of the translator cop. And her first instinct, her only instinct, had been to talk to Mattie about it, because Mattie was safe, and Mattie would listen, and Mattie would say the right thing. And for half a second, she looked for him, actually looked, and then the glass shattered inside her mind and she remembered that he wasn't there. And he wasn't going to be there. He would never be there. She'd curled into a lonely ball of misery, and stayed in that position until she fell asleep.
But she was awake now, and she still wanted to talk. Still wanted to get the worries out there, so that someone else could inspect them and tell her not to worry about it, or, at least, give her an indication of how much she needed to worry. She padded softly over to Ximena's bed, and saw the thin metal bracelet around her wrist. Ximena was handcuffed to the bed. Why? Ximena hadn't killed anybody, as far as Cecilia knew. Were they going to do that to everyone? They hadn't handcuffed Cecilia. Not yet, anyway. But given how many crimes they were looking at charging her with, they probably would be, soon enough.
She couldn't tell if Ximena was sleeping or not. If she was, she didn't want to wake her. She kept her voice low, trying not to disturb anyone else. "Ximena... ¿Estas despierta?"
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Carrion Queen
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Ximena stared straight up at the ceiling, having accepted she was chained to the bed.
For some time she considered calling Stephen over somehow, though shouting for him probably would have called more attention to herself. As they were being taken back into custody, he said it would be nice to do this again sometime. Ximena assumed the "this" meant dinner and not being taken into police custody. She imagined if she could call him over, he might be able to grow another bone file and file through the handcuff like he had though the collars. If he could do that, she thought to herself, perhaps she could then persuade him to come with her to a closet and test exactly the parameters of how rough one could be with his body before issues arose.
These licentious thoughts amused her for a little while, but soon she was back to just sort of staring up at the ceiling and being tired. She closed her eyes.
Ximena heard a few footsteps approaching her bed. She opened her eyes.
"Claro," she said. "Hace tiempo que no hablaba Español. Entonces, lo siento si mi pronunciación o gramática están equivocados," she said fluidly, as if it was a phrase she had memorized and recited many times. "Pero no te preocupes. Entiendo... todo," she said, nearly slipping into a regional tick at the end -- "todito" -- but resisting, not wanting to seem flippant.
She turned her head to look at Cecilia.
For some time she considered calling Stephen over somehow, though shouting for him probably would have called more attention to herself. As they were being taken back into custody, he said it would be nice to do this again sometime. Ximena assumed the "this" meant dinner and not being taken into police custody. She imagined if she could call him over, he might be able to grow another bone file and file through the handcuff like he had though the collars. If he could do that, she thought to herself, perhaps she could then persuade him to come with her to a closet and test exactly the parameters of how rough one could be with his body before issues arose.
These licentious thoughts amused her for a little while, but soon she was back to just sort of staring up at the ceiling and being tired. She closed her eyes.
Ximena heard a few footsteps approaching her bed. She opened her eyes.
"Claro," she said. "Hace tiempo que no hablaba Español. Entonces, lo siento si mi pronunciación o gramática están equivocados," she said fluidly, as if it was a phrase she had memorized and recited many times. "Pero no te preocupes. Entiendo... todo," she said, nearly slipping into a regional tick at the end -- "todito" -- but resisting, not wanting to seem flippant.
She turned her head to look at Cecilia.
Cecilia couldn't explain, but even hearing a few words in Spanish made her feel comforted in a way that nothing else did. In America, English was everywhere. It was on labels and cars and billboards and shop windows, and having to take those few seconds to translate everything in her head, to try and make it all make sense, left her constantly feeling like she was a half-step behind everyone and everything around her. Hearing words and phrases that she could just know and understand without having to run it through a mental filter first... it felt, mentally, like slipping back into your own bed after spending a long time away from it. She looked away from Ximena's gaze, feeling embarrassed.
"Está bien. Honestamente, estoy feliz de tener a alguien con quien hablar, que pueda entenderme. Inglés es... siempre una lucha para mí."
She fidgeted, unsure how to say what she wanted to say next. Alarm bells were ringing in her head, telling her not to talk to this girl. Not to trust her or tell her anything important. To forget her name and go back to her corner, alone. It was safe to be alone.
"Ximena..." she said, forcing herself to say the other girl's name out loud. "Las esposas... ¿Creen que cometiste un crimen? ¿Van a... hacerle eso a todo el mundo?"
It was a lame, and probably insensitive question to ask. But she was scared, and she needed to know.
"Está bien. Honestamente, estoy feliz de tener a alguien con quien hablar, que pueda entenderme. Inglés es... siempre una lucha para mí."
She fidgeted, unsure how to say what she wanted to say next. Alarm bells were ringing in her head, telling her not to talk to this girl. Not to trust her or tell her anything important. To forget her name and go back to her corner, alone. It was safe to be alone.
"Ximena..." she said, forcing herself to say the other girl's name out loud. "Las esposas... ¿Creen que cometiste un crimen? ¿Van a... hacerle eso a todo el mundo?"
It was a lame, and probably insensitive question to ask. But she was scared, and she needed to know.
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Carrion Queen
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"Mmm," she said in understanding. "Ingles no es tan facil. Mucho gente que creció con lo no estan tan bueno," she said.
She yawned and moved to cover her mouth, but met resistance and another clanking from the handcuff.
"Hmm... pues, sería un crimen a tener mas de una esposa. Pero estoy aceptando solicitudes si estás ofreciendo," she said with a wicked smile. A moment passed and she sighed, ready to give a serious response.
"Salí del hospital, que es contra de las reglas. También, dicen que tengo una mala actitud. No creo que van a hacer esto a todo -- a menos que tratas a salir."
She yawned and moved to cover her mouth, but met resistance and another clanking from the handcuff.
"Hmm... pues, sería un crimen a tener mas de una esposa. Pero estoy aceptando solicitudes si estás ofreciendo," she said with a wicked smile. A moment passed and she sighed, ready to give a serious response.
"Salí del hospital, que es contra de las reglas. También, dicen que tengo una mala actitud. No creo que van a hacer esto a todo -- a menos que tratas a salir."