((Diego Larrosa continues from How Far I'll Go))
About a year or so ago, Diego had been caught by a sudden downpour of rain while walking to school. He had neglected to bring an umbrella, having been under the assumption that it would only rain once he got inside. And the cost of this assumption was him, dripping wet, bag soaked through, walking through the hallways of GHHS, a trail of raindrops preceding him. He could feel eyes staring at him, and through glimpses in the periphery, he knew he was the only one that had forgotten to bring an umbrella. He couldn't recall if anyone had talked to him in that while, pitied him, made fun of him, and he couldn't decide if that was better or worse than being completely ignored. All he could remember was feeling the chill on his skin as he took his seat in class, the goosebumps raised on his skin as the air-conditioner slowly, slowly dried him, and the knowledge that he was the only one in the room that felt like this.
The walk through the rain now was considerably more liberating. He would never admit it to her, but he was glad that Stephanie was here, accompanying his misery. And there was no societal expectation of having to be dry. Other people in the island would be caught out in the rain as well, drenched through to the bones like him. The water itself felt as warm as the ocean did that night. He had checked his map and compass to make sure he was heading inland, but even with that, the ocean continued to follow him. And right now, it felt reassuring. It was as if the ocean continued to embrace him.
As if it were cleansing Dante and Chris' blood from the sole of his shoes. Claiming it.
Eventually, the pattering sensation grew tiring, as did the ordeal of walking through the rain in the dark. After an hour or so of doing this, they happened upon a building. It would have been beautiful in the daytime, but as of now, he could only glimpse pieces of the mural through what little the flashlight he held illuminated. Whatever the building was, it was enough. There was a metaphor to be found in seeking shelter from the rain in a place of worship, but religion had never cared much for people like him, so he had always returned the favor.
He had tried to make conversation with Stephanie, a few hours after the first announcement. Each name pounded at his chest, especially Chris', but there was no new trauma to deal with. No one he was particularly close with had shown up. And Jessica hadn't shown up. But she had disappeared, even before the encounter with Ty. He had asked at some point whether Stephanie knew where she went, and she had made a joke, unsmiling, saying how she hoped she caught a ride out. He had touched a nerve, and so that was the most of their conversation for the moment.
He stepped up to the door, and opened the door, gesturing as if he were the owner of a hotel. It was awkward, what with the bags and the shovel, but doable.
"Be my guest?"
Gimme, Gimme Shelter, or I'm Gonna Fade Away
Open, Day 2, 9 PM
((Stephanie McDonald continued from before the day is done, my prince is gonna come))
She dreamed of Jessica last night. She dreamed she was with Jessica. Back at the hotel or at home or on a beach somewhere, just lying in bed together, warm and safe. Not like here. Where people were killed for reasons. Where it was raining and she was wet and dirty and her feet hurt, but if she took off her shoes her feet would get dirty.
The announcements had come that morning. Christine Bright was expected. The others, less so. Not in what happened, but in who exactly. Paloma Salt beating up Abel Zelenovic, someone killed Yuko Hayshibara without a gun. But Jessica wasn't mentioned on either end, which as far as she cared was the most important thing. Everyone else was just a number.
Diego had asked a few hours ago about how Jessica was. Stephanie had given the hope that Jessica had caught some ride home. It was, wasn't a joke. She honestly didn't know. She didn't really care about that as they walked over to what looked like a church. Diego actually opened the door for her.
"Thank you. Such a gentleman." Stephanie smiled at him, or at least tried to, as she went inside.
She dreamed of Jessica last night. She dreamed she was with Jessica. Back at the hotel or at home or on a beach somewhere, just lying in bed together, warm and safe. Not like here. Where people were killed for reasons. Where it was raining and she was wet and dirty and her feet hurt, but if she took off her shoes her feet would get dirty.
The announcements had come that morning. Christine Bright was expected. The others, less so. Not in what happened, but in who exactly. Paloma Salt beating up Abel Zelenovic, someone killed Yuko Hayshibara without a gun. But Jessica wasn't mentioned on either end, which as far as she cared was the most important thing. Everyone else was just a number.
Diego had asked a few hours ago about how Jessica was. Stephanie had given the hope that Jessica had caught some ride home. It was, wasn't a joke. She honestly didn't know. She didn't really care about that as they walked over to what looked like a church. Diego actually opened the door for her.
"Thank you. Such a gentleman." Stephanie smiled at him, or at least tried to, as she went inside.
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
"My pleasure."
Stephanie's half-smile was enough for Diego to return twice that, and so he did as they entered the building. It felt normal. It felt nice.
And then he looked inside the building, and if he were actually the owner of this building, he would have hid his face in shame. The smell of decay hit his nostrils, together with what he told himself was rust. The cool rain had felt nice earlier, refreshing even, but now the dampness on his skin settled into an unfortunately familiar chill. He paid it no mind as the flashlight illuminated a moldy cushion, which he immediately plopped his belongings on.
He took a seat next to the bags, and for a few seconds, he took in the sheer relief his legs felt, respite after hours of walking. And then he remembered exactly where he was, and he was surprised he could have ever forgotten. Relaxation was a luxury he couldn't afford just yet. He should've been more careful with entering the building. With hesitation, difficulty, he pushed himself off the cushion.
"We should maybe take a look around before we settle down, I think. Sorry."
He said that without looking at Stephanie, more for himself, as a reminder, and to punctuate the silence that pervaded the building. The silence was a good sign, really, but it still left the hairs on the back of his neck raised. As if someone was waiting for them.
He walked forwards, flashlight scanning slowly across the room. At first, he saw nothing but cushions and dust, detritus, but then he caught something darker, less vibrant than the rest at the edges of the beam, and against his better judgement, he pointed a beam of light towards it.
The beam slightly faltered as it reached the corpse, but it stayed still, stuck on the remnants of a face.
Stephanie's half-smile was enough for Diego to return twice that, and so he did as they entered the building. It felt normal. It felt nice.
And then he looked inside the building, and if he were actually the owner of this building, he would have hid his face in shame. The smell of decay hit his nostrils, together with what he told himself was rust. The cool rain had felt nice earlier, refreshing even, but now the dampness on his skin settled into an unfortunately familiar chill. He paid it no mind as the flashlight illuminated a moldy cushion, which he immediately plopped his belongings on.
He took a seat next to the bags, and for a few seconds, he took in the sheer relief his legs felt, respite after hours of walking. And then he remembered exactly where he was, and he was surprised he could have ever forgotten. Relaxation was a luxury he couldn't afford just yet. He should've been more careful with entering the building. With hesitation, difficulty, he pushed himself off the cushion.
"We should maybe take a look around before we settle down, I think. Sorry."
He said that without looking at Stephanie, more for himself, as a reminder, and to punctuate the silence that pervaded the building. The silence was a good sign, really, but it still left the hairs on the back of his neck raised. As if someone was waiting for them.
He walked forwards, flashlight scanning slowly across the room. At first, he saw nothing but cushions and dust, detritus, but then he caught something darker, less vibrant than the rest at the edges of the beam, and against his better judgement, he pointed a beam of light towards it.
The beam slightly faltered as it reached the corpse, but it stayed still, stuck on the remnants of a face.
[[A Young Man's tale, continued from Strategic Realism]]
He had been woken up by the rain. A pulsating sensation persisting in his head and his body feeling like it went through a grinder and then another just for good measure. The air was heavy and satiated with humidity. He felt everything sticking together. But he noticed soon enough that it wasn't just the water, but also sweat and blood. He couldn't deny that upon awakening he had a bit of a little panic attack, but all things considered he thought he collected himself quite well.
No, the unsettling issue was less his physical statue. Well, that was a big issue too. He wasn't a doctor, but everything hurt and everything was bloody and that was enough of a tell for him to know that he was tremendously fucked.
Worse though, he had no idea how he actually got to that state.
When he tried to remember, all he got was more pain under his scalp but not a single image or word of what happened. After a minute of observation, he gave up. He could've sworn that he experienced it not raining, and even though it was a ridiculous memory - just without any context like it was - it was also all he had. For the moment, at least.
After ten minutes, he remembered the sounds of gun shots. After another ten minutes more, he thought he heard them in real life.
He hurried towards the temple.
---
Who were the two people at the entrance? He couldn't tell. Not from the distance he had, at least. But they had been the first faces he witnessed since waking up, so he felt it was necessary to approach.
The two - a boy and girl? - had already entered the temple when he finally reached it's door himself. He leaned silently against the frame, and peeked the light of a flashlight shining within the building. He had considered how he would best deal with this approach, tattered as he was. But all he really wanted to do was lay down and cry. And that wouldn't be the best impression, no?
"Hey?"
He had been woken up by the rain. A pulsating sensation persisting in his head and his body feeling like it went through a grinder and then another just for good measure. The air was heavy and satiated with humidity. He felt everything sticking together. But he noticed soon enough that it wasn't just the water, but also sweat and blood. He couldn't deny that upon awakening he had a bit of a little panic attack, but all things considered he thought he collected himself quite well.
No, the unsettling issue was less his physical statue. Well, that was a big issue too. He wasn't a doctor, but everything hurt and everything was bloody and that was enough of a tell for him to know that he was tremendously fucked.
Worse though, he had no idea how he actually got to that state.
When he tried to remember, all he got was more pain under his scalp but not a single image or word of what happened. After a minute of observation, he gave up. He could've sworn that he experienced it not raining, and even though it was a ridiculous memory - just without any context like it was - it was also all he had. For the moment, at least.
After ten minutes, he remembered the sounds of gun shots. After another ten minutes more, he thought he heard them in real life.
He hurried towards the temple.
---
Who were the two people at the entrance? He couldn't tell. Not from the distance he had, at least. But they had been the first faces he witnessed since waking up, so he felt it was necessary to approach.
The two - a boy and girl? - had already entered the temple when he finally reached it's door himself. He leaned silently against the frame, and peeked the light of a flashlight shining within the building. He had considered how he would best deal with this approach, tattered as he was. But all he really wanted to do was lay down and cry. And that wouldn't be the best impression, no?
"Hey?"
Gervais Frans Lambotte 
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
There was a corpse there. Pretty bad shape, too, if the bruises meant anything. She couldn't even recognize who it had been, given that one would normally need a face to be recognizable. Other than that, the place seemed to be a normal church, aside from the chill that was going through her after getting out of the rain. One that needed a lot of repair, but still a church. There was actually someplace to lie down, so that was important. Besides, whoever had done this had to have been long gone, right?
"Hey?"
Maybe not. Stephanie had just kicked her shoes off when he heard the guy at the door. She looked at the guy there, taking out her flashlight and shining it where she thought his chest would be, only to see a sweater vest and a man bun. The guy did seem like he was in bad shape, so, maybe he would take it easy?
"Uh, hello. Gervais, is it?"
"Hey?"
Maybe not. Stephanie had just kicked her shoes off when he heard the guy at the door. She looked at the guy there, taking out her flashlight and shining it where she thought his chest would be, only to see a sweater vest and a man bun. The guy did seem like he was in bad shape, so, maybe he would take it easy?
"Uh, hello. Gervais, is it?"
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
How are we gonna move this to the sea from here? was the first thought that came through the fog in Diego's mind, after the seconds spent at attempting and failing to comprehend and cohere the bits and pieces of meat and skin and skull and viscera into a recognizable face. But it was a more idle, less urgent thought than those that had urged him to throw Chris into the sea, because he couldn't throw a proper funeral for someone he couldn't even assign a pronoun to, much less a name, personality, life story, likes, dislikes, dreams, ambitions. Possible final wishes.
He heard Stephanie kick off her shoes, with no other response, other than what he hoped was a stunned silence.
The beam of light slowly slid from the corpse, as Diego recalled hearing a voice that was neither his nor Stephanie's. He turned around to see Gervais.
They had been closer, once upon a time, although 'closer' was always a relative term when it came to people. From acquaintances who occasionally traded a word or two to not acquaintances. Gervais had been in the rough circle of academically inclined people, the same circle Diego belonged to, and then, all of a sudden, he was not, and then he bullied and belittled the very same kind of people he came from. There was something about it that Diego found despicable, forgetting where you came from. Diego had fortunately been too invisible to get much of Gervais' attention, ire, but even without any personal grievances to speak of, there was a coldness to the way Diego looked at him, a coldness that only slightly dissipated when he noticed the blood coating his face. The blood wasn't much, relatively speaking, compared to what he'd seen so far, and that fact didn't seem to disturb Diego anymore, he thought. He would dwell on it more when he would.
And his distrust was warranted, right? Ty had been bloodied, scarred when he came by. And he had seemed perfectly harmless until he wasn't.
"Hi," was all Diego said, as he held onto the shovel, grip slightly shaky.
He heard Stephanie kick off her shoes, with no other response, other than what he hoped was a stunned silence.
The beam of light slowly slid from the corpse, as Diego recalled hearing a voice that was neither his nor Stephanie's. He turned around to see Gervais.
They had been closer, once upon a time, although 'closer' was always a relative term when it came to people. From acquaintances who occasionally traded a word or two to not acquaintances. Gervais had been in the rough circle of academically inclined people, the same circle Diego belonged to, and then, all of a sudden, he was not, and then he bullied and belittled the very same kind of people he came from. There was something about it that Diego found despicable, forgetting where you came from. Diego had fortunately been too invisible to get much of Gervais' attention, ire, but even without any personal grievances to speak of, there was a coldness to the way Diego looked at him, a coldness that only slightly dissipated when he noticed the blood coating his face. The blood wasn't much, relatively speaking, compared to what he'd seen so far, and that fact didn't seem to disturb Diego anymore, he thought. He would dwell on it more when he would.
And his distrust was warranted, right? Ty had been bloodied, scarred when he came by. And he had seemed perfectly harmless until he wasn't.
"Hi," was all Diego said, as he held onto the shovel, grip slightly shaky.
Okay, so that was a tense situation. A bit awkward, honestly. Not that he didn't really have much of a clue of what exactly was going on.
The two faces before him... they reminded him of someone. Yes, their names escaped him, and even which memories exactly it was which connected to him were somewhat lost. He did know, or he felt as if he knew, that he knew the two. It was a bit like standing in front of some exotic good in the grocery store when you don't know the name of the product. You're obviously aware of what was in front of you, and you could read the name of the product. But you wouldn't dare to try and pronounce the name, afraid of being wrong and possibly embarrassing yourself.
They knew him, though. Obviously.
He looked at the boy holding to the shovel. His eyes didn't speak of a warm welcome. It seems that his memories weren't really pleasant.
Gervais, wasn't it? He wasn't sure if he wanted to be Gervais in these circumstances.
"I... think, yes. I'm Gervais?"
He- Gervais lurched closer. Now that he heard it, the name made sense. In the way a name could make sense.
"I'm sorry, but I have no fucking clue what's going on. ...do we know each other?"
The two faces before him... they reminded him of someone. Yes, their names escaped him, and even which memories exactly it was which connected to him were somewhat lost. He did know, or he felt as if he knew, that he knew the two. It was a bit like standing in front of some exotic good in the grocery store when you don't know the name of the product. You're obviously aware of what was in front of you, and you could read the name of the product. But you wouldn't dare to try and pronounce the name, afraid of being wrong and possibly embarrassing yourself.
They knew him, though. Obviously.
He looked at the boy holding to the shovel. His eyes didn't speak of a warm welcome. It seems that his memories weren't really pleasant.
Gervais, wasn't it? He wasn't sure if he wanted to be Gervais in these circumstances.
"I... think, yes. I'm Gervais?"
He- Gervais lurched closer. Now that he heard it, the name made sense. In the way a name could make sense.
"I'm sorry, but I have no fucking clue what's going on. ...do we know each other?"
Diego didn't seem to like him. Although Gervais didn't seem to know who they were, or even who he was.
"I'm sorry, but I have no fucking clue what's going on. ...do we know each other?"
Stephanie raised an eyebrow at that. Was he serious? Maybe he was, given how he tumbled over as he approached them.
"Yeah, we do. I'm Stephanie, that's Diego." She looked at Gervais quizzically. "You do know where you are, right?"
"I'm sorry, but I have no fucking clue what's going on. ...do we know each other?"
Stephanie raised an eyebrow at that. Was he serious? Maybe he was, given how he tumbled over as he approached them.
"Yeah, we do. I'm Stephanie, that's Diego." She looked at Gervais quizzically. "You do know where you are, right?"
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Diego looked to his right at Stephanie, glared at her, hoped that, if looks couldn't kill, they could at least burn, touch, get her attention somehow, he begged. Then, he looked towards bloodied Gervais, in front, then towards the corpse behind them. That was the most he could do, the most he could express, with Gervais' presence robbing him of speech. He hoped it translated, that she could add up the parts here.
It was easy to distrust him. Convenient. It's not like Gervais earned any trust or respect back at school, much less so here.
And, he wanted to work towards that new future, right?
The rain continued pouring on the temple roof, occasionally strengthening and weakening. Static, coming in waves.
The thought stayed.
"Turn around. Hands up."
The shovel went up, wobbling in his hands. It felt too heavy.
It was easy to distrust him. Convenient. It's not like Gervais earned any trust or respect back at school, much less so here.
And, he wanted to work towards that new future, right?
The rain continued pouring on the temple roof, occasionally strengthening and weakening. Static, coming in waves.
The thought stayed.
"Turn around. Hands up."
The shovel went up, wobbling in his hands. It felt too heavy.
Gervais mustered the shovel threatening him. It was in that moment that Gervais had become 100% sure that it would not have been good to be Gervais. He'd take note of that in the future.
That said, he still had no idea what was going on and as such no real idea what to do. Him getting any sort of directions to follow - even issued as a demand backed-up by a threat - was at least a point to hang on.
His bag fell to the side with a gentle thud. Gervais gave the two people a puzzling look, but ultimately turned around. Slowly, he raised his hands. When they reached the height of his ears, a searing pain shot through his shoulders and breast, and Gervais decided that this would be "Hands up" enough.
Tears welled up.
That said, he still had no idea what was going on and as such no real idea what to do. Him getting any sort of directions to follow - even issued as a demand backed-up by a threat - was at least a point to hang on.
His bag fell to the side with a gentle thud. Gervais gave the two people a puzzling look, but ultimately turned around. Slowly, he raised his hands. When they reached the height of his ears, a searing pain shot through his shoulders and breast, and Gervais decided that this would be "Hands up" enough.
Tears welled up.
[Lorenzo Tavares Continued From Watch Your Step]
His day since he left the idiots at the lookout behind had been quiet.
Well, quiet and wet.
The storm came fast and hard, drenching every inch of the island in warm, constant, annoying rain. LIke it wasn’t bad enough that they were trapped on an unescapable island with no real places to sleep and the lowest bar ever set for edible food, but now they had to deal with a fucking tropical storm. Emphasis on the tropical. Most of the afternoon had been a series of finding a place to hole up until there was a lull in the rain, quickly moving on until the rain was too bad to keep going, and rinse and repeat. Honestly, Lorenzo hadn’t minded the solitude at least. He hadn’t run into anyone since the lookout, and he wasn’t complaining. He didn’t feel up to dealing with other people after the fiasco with Cammy’s fall. And the monotony of his afternoon kept his mind busy, keeping his thoughts at bay.
Lorenzo didn't stay anywhere for too long if he could help it. Being constantly on the move kept his senses sharp, even if he was still suffering a bit of pain here and there from his various injuries from the day before. If anything the sparks of pain just spurred him on more. On the opposite end, moving through a downpour for the better part of a day had all but exhausted him. Going down one mountain, back through the residential area, following the treeline of the path to another uphill climb, and now he was closing in on some sort of temple. Fantastic. Just what he needed, religion.
Lorenzo wasn’t the first to happen upon the building however, and he spotted three figured up ahead. He gripped the clasp holding his maul in its sheath as he made his approach. He’d had about enough of people losing their fucking cools the last few days, but that didn’t make him any less ready to defend himself. If he had to, he’d do what was necessary. That’s all there was to it. He was a bad person, he’d already hurt one person to the point that if she were still alive it’d be a fucking miracle.
He’d do it again if that’s what it took to make it through another day.
As he got closer, he could make out who was there, and the scene where he walked up on was honestly somewhat hilarious. Diego was apparently holding Gervais up with a fucking shovel. What the fuck was it with these weird bladed shovels on this fucking island. He fixed the bag on his shoulder a bit, thinking of the E-Tool that hid inside. Fucking Emmett. Gervais looked like he was scared out of his mind, which was an odd look to see on him. Lorenzo sort of liked the change of pace. Next to Diego was Stephanie, who, while not being his friend by any means, at least he knew from the GSA, so he had somewhat of a connection there.
Not a real or important one, but it was a foot in the door, if nothing else.
“Yo, Steph, how you holdin’ up?” He called out, stopping a few feet away from the teary-eyed Gervais, who he gave a questioning look to.
“What’s with the stop and frisk? That shovel got a gun strapped to it somewhere I can’t see?” He asked Diego, a playful grin on his face. The rain was still going strong, and honestly, Lorenzo just wanted to get inside and dry off. He didn’t really give a fuck what was happenning here.
His day since he left the idiots at the lookout behind had been quiet.
Well, quiet and wet.
The storm came fast and hard, drenching every inch of the island in warm, constant, annoying rain. LIke it wasn’t bad enough that they were trapped on an unescapable island with no real places to sleep and the lowest bar ever set for edible food, but now they had to deal with a fucking tropical storm. Emphasis on the tropical. Most of the afternoon had been a series of finding a place to hole up until there was a lull in the rain, quickly moving on until the rain was too bad to keep going, and rinse and repeat. Honestly, Lorenzo hadn’t minded the solitude at least. He hadn’t run into anyone since the lookout, and he wasn’t complaining. He didn’t feel up to dealing with other people after the fiasco with Cammy’s fall. And the monotony of his afternoon kept his mind busy, keeping his thoughts at bay.
Lorenzo didn't stay anywhere for too long if he could help it. Being constantly on the move kept his senses sharp, even if he was still suffering a bit of pain here and there from his various injuries from the day before. If anything the sparks of pain just spurred him on more. On the opposite end, moving through a downpour for the better part of a day had all but exhausted him. Going down one mountain, back through the residential area, following the treeline of the path to another uphill climb, and now he was closing in on some sort of temple. Fantastic. Just what he needed, religion.
Lorenzo wasn’t the first to happen upon the building however, and he spotted three figured up ahead. He gripped the clasp holding his maul in its sheath as he made his approach. He’d had about enough of people losing their fucking cools the last few days, but that didn’t make him any less ready to defend himself. If he had to, he’d do what was necessary. That’s all there was to it. He was a bad person, he’d already hurt one person to the point that if she were still alive it’d be a fucking miracle.
He’d do it again if that’s what it took to make it through another day.
As he got closer, he could make out who was there, and the scene where he walked up on was honestly somewhat hilarious. Diego was apparently holding Gervais up with a fucking shovel. What the fuck was it with these weird bladed shovels on this fucking island. He fixed the bag on his shoulder a bit, thinking of the E-Tool that hid inside. Fucking Emmett. Gervais looked like he was scared out of his mind, which was an odd look to see on him. Lorenzo sort of liked the change of pace. Next to Diego was Stephanie, who, while not being his friend by any means, at least he knew from the GSA, so he had somewhat of a connection there.
Not a real or important one, but it was a foot in the door, if nothing else.
“Yo, Steph, how you holdin’ up?” He called out, stopping a few feet away from the teary-eyed Gervais, who he gave a questioning look to.
“What’s with the stop and frisk? That shovel got a gun strapped to it somewhere I can’t see?” He asked Diego, a playful grin on his face. The rain was still going strong, and honestly, Lorenzo just wanted to get inside and dry off. He didn’t really give a fuck what was happenning here.
Diego demanded that Gervais put his hands up and turn around, the threat of being hit in the head implied with the shovel. Gervais dropped his bag as Diego motioned to the bag with his head. Stephanie resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she stepped to the now crying Gervais and picked up his bag.
"Sorry." Stephanie ruffled through it. Food, food, water, first aid kit, flashlight, piece of paper, pamphlet, and ... nothing more. Stephanie just shook her head as she dropped the bag at his feet.
"Nothing. Just the same parp we all got. Not even a rock. I don't think he'll be any trouble."
“Yo, Steph, how you holdin’ up? What’s with the stop and frisk? That shovel got a gun strapped to it somewhere I can’t see?”
Stephanie looked at the green hair that had just introduced itself - Lorenzo Tavares. Wanker. Now she actually did roll her eyes.
"I only wish. We were just ... worried that he might have something. Least we're wrong now, I guess."
"Sorry." Stephanie ruffled through it. Food, food, water, first aid kit, flashlight, piece of paper, pamphlet, and ... nothing more. Stephanie just shook her head as she dropped the bag at his feet.
"Nothing. Just the same parp we all got. Not even a rock. I don't think he'll be any trouble."
“Yo, Steph, how you holdin’ up? What’s with the stop and frisk? That shovel got a gun strapped to it somewhere I can’t see?”
Stephanie looked at the green hair that had just introduced itself - Lorenzo Tavares. Wanker. Now she actually did roll her eyes.
"I only wish. We were just ... worried that he might have something. Least we're wrong now, I guess."
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
"Yeah. No shovel-gun here, sadly. And, yeah, he's... Gervais is good. I guess. If she says so."
Awkward grin, perfunctory, returned back to Lorenzo. And once returned, it went away.
Diego put down the shovel, lowered it gradually, unwillingly. Shame. He only realized after the fact that he'd been enjoying that moment, really. But there wasn't any point in continuing, after Lorenzo had said his piece, after Stephanie confirmed the lack of a threat. It was like the shovel held no power, no purpose anymore. His arms screamed relief as the shovel rested on the ground, but it felt like an admission of defeat.
Lorenzo was shirtless, he noticed. Bruised, bandaged, too, but the shirtlessness was what caught most of Diego's attention. He wondered for a moment whether it would be best to look away or not, but he decided to meet his gaze and only his gaze.
His eyes looked nice too, anyways.
Looking away felt like another admission of defeat, and Diego had already yielded once.
For a moment, he wanted to do more, say more, but he saw something sharp in Lorenzo's grip. A hammer, or a pickaxe, maybe. Diego's shovel was sharp too, but.
Diego glanced behind him. More at the pool of blood, than its origin. Returned to Lorenzo's eyes.
Maybe he could yield once more. It didn't seem like Lorenzo came from here, anyways. Didn't seem like a hammer could do that, he thought and hoped.
"So, you guys wanna go in or not?"
That question was also obligatory, more a reflex than a conscious decision to speak, but he said it anyways. This was the only building around for miles, probably, and the rain continued to pour endlessly. Even though Lorenzo's hammer stayed in his grip, glinting, almost winking at him, he had to let him and Gervais in, because they would go in anyways, whether he wanted or not. Might as well see their entrance, pretend it was his choice to let them in.
And truth be told, he wanted to see more of Lorenzo.
He turned away from Lorenzo, retrieved the flashlight from his pocket, pointed it at the corpse, forced a look at the corpse, resisted the urge to close his eyes. A deserved look, a needed look.
He pointed at it, said, "Not our fault, by the way." The beam of flashlight focused more on the crossed arms now. "It was like that when we came here."
Awkward grin, perfunctory, returned back to Lorenzo. And once returned, it went away.
Diego put down the shovel, lowered it gradually, unwillingly. Shame. He only realized after the fact that he'd been enjoying that moment, really. But there wasn't any point in continuing, after Lorenzo had said his piece, after Stephanie confirmed the lack of a threat. It was like the shovel held no power, no purpose anymore. His arms screamed relief as the shovel rested on the ground, but it felt like an admission of defeat.
Lorenzo was shirtless, he noticed. Bruised, bandaged, too, but the shirtlessness was what caught most of Diego's attention. He wondered for a moment whether it would be best to look away or not, but he decided to meet his gaze and only his gaze.
His eyes looked nice too, anyways.
Looking away felt like another admission of defeat, and Diego had already yielded once.
For a moment, he wanted to do more, say more, but he saw something sharp in Lorenzo's grip. A hammer, or a pickaxe, maybe. Diego's shovel was sharp too, but.
Diego glanced behind him. More at the pool of blood, than its origin. Returned to Lorenzo's eyes.
Maybe he could yield once more. It didn't seem like Lorenzo came from here, anyways. Didn't seem like a hammer could do that, he thought and hoped.
"So, you guys wanna go in or not?"
That question was also obligatory, more a reflex than a conscious decision to speak, but he said it anyways. This was the only building around for miles, probably, and the rain continued to pour endlessly. Even though Lorenzo's hammer stayed in his grip, glinting, almost winking at him, he had to let him and Gervais in, because they would go in anyways, whether he wanted or not. Might as well see their entrance, pretend it was his choice to let them in.
And truth be told, he wanted to see more of Lorenzo.
He turned away from Lorenzo, retrieved the flashlight from his pocket, pointed it at the corpse, forced a look at the corpse, resisted the urge to close his eyes. A deserved look, a needed look.
He pointed at it, said, "Not our fault, by the way." The beam of flashlight focused more on the crossed arms now. "It was like that when we came here."
"Uh, thanks. Of course."
Gervais got a release from his uncomfortable position. Him lowering his arms felt a little like finally dropping the huge shit that has blocked the rear exit for two days after eating the wrong stuff at the buffet. Except the pain was still there and his chest still felt like there was... uh, like there was something trying to claw it's way out of it.
"Okay so. Seriously. What is going on?"
A man threatening him with a shovel. A half-naked and bloodied man strutting into church. The stench of something rotten. Him having no actual idea what happened before he woke up earlier. This goddamn warm and drenched island. His chest and head and shoulders and legs feeling like being on fire.
He briefly considered slapping his own face. This whole thing was just a dream all along would be the sensible answer given how little anything made sense right now.
He didn't because that would be stupid. You don't feel like dying in dreams.
Gervais got a release from his uncomfortable position. Him lowering his arms felt a little like finally dropping the huge shit that has blocked the rear exit for two days after eating the wrong stuff at the buffet. Except the pain was still there and his chest still felt like there was... uh, like there was something trying to claw it's way out of it.
"Okay so. Seriously. What is going on?"
A man threatening him with a shovel. A half-naked and bloodied man strutting into church. The stench of something rotten. Him having no actual idea what happened before he woke up earlier. This goddamn warm and drenched island. His chest and head and shoulders and legs feeling like being on fire.
He briefly considered slapping his own face. This whole thing was just a dream all along would be the sensible answer given how little anything made sense right now.
He didn't because that would be stupid. You don't feel like dying in dreams.
Stephanie’s response to his greeting was rather expected. She and he were not friends, and, if anything, he was probably someone she wasn’t fond of. That was fine. He didn’t feel the need to be liked by everyone. Honestly, it made being here a bit easier knowing that he was probably doing exactly what the people who talk behind his back and disliked him figured he would do. He didn’t mind meeting their expectations. At least he wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Even if everyone on his island died, and everyone back in Chattanooga thought he was a monster. He didn’t care. He’d kill them all if that’s what he had to do to go home. This wasn’t just about survival. They were all at war, even if they didn’t know it yet. No use holding out for false hope. No one was coming for them.
Only one person could leave this place.
Steph and Diego seemed to have been checking Gervais for weapons. Diego at least put the shovel down when Lorenzo pointed out how silly it looked. Lorenzo wasn’t very familiar with Diego, but he’d seen him around. He was a small guy, maybe like 5’3 or 4. Lorenzo shared a class or two with him, but they didn’t exactly hang out around the same crowds. There wasn’t a lot of cross-contamination, so he only knew him at face value. Trust wasn’t something Lorenzo was willing to give out here, but he needed to get out of this rain, and the temple seemed to be the only thing around that he could dry off in and get some rest. Diego, Steph and Gervais were an added annoyance he’d have to play nice with for now.
At least until the rain let up.
Lorenzo was able to catch something that made him grin unconsciously. Diego’s eyes were pretty well glued to him since he arrived. He knew that kind of stare. They locked eyes now and Lorenzo didn’t break the gaze, still grinning. This could be very useful in making sure this night went by without unnecessary drama or violence. Lorenzo was past his breaking point, even though he was putting on a mask of being fine. His body was still hurting from the myriad of injuries he’d suffered the day before, and his day spent traversing the island in the rain had put him way past the point of exhaustion. He needed to rest, without trouble sprouting it’s nasty head. Steph wasn’t his biggest fan, that much was clear, but if he could endear himself to Diego, and that look in his eyes made it seem very possible, maybe this night could go by easily.
Of course, there was always Gervais to worry about as well. Although, right now Lorenzo wasn’t feeling very concerned. What he remembered from Gervais in school was that he was a bit of a stuck-up prick. But seeing him right now… For some reason Lorenzo kind of felt sorry for the guy. He looked about as pathetic as could be right now, just wet, scared and confused. It was kind of depressing to look at. Diego asked if they were coming in, and Lorenzo smiled sweetly.
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Lorenzo walked up to the duo standing by the door and smiled at both. Diego motioned inside, and Lorenzo felt his smile fade quickly and be replaced by a look of slight disgust mixed with a small twinge of fear.
There was a dead body inside.
Sure, Lorenzo had just seen Cammy fall to her death a few hours before, and yeah, he’d cut Sapphire open before running from the scene, but this was the first fully dead person he’d seen with his own eyes so far. The announcements told him his classmates were dead, but actually seeing it was another thing entirely. Lorenzo felt his legs shake as he just stood in the doorway frozen as he stared at the corpse. The head was a mangled mess of blood and gore, so there was no way of telling who it was. It made him want to puke.
Was this person one of the dead from yesterday, or was this a fresh corpse?
The day was almost over, more people were bound to have died by now. The stench that radiated off the body was sickening. The heat of this island nightmare probably wasn’t helping it smell any better either. Even with all the rain, it was still uncomfortably warm temperature-wise. Just a dead body sitting in the heat. Those thoughts of vomiting came up again. Diego spoke, breaking Lorenzo’s trance on the body. He claimed they didn’t do it, and Lorenzo had no reason to doubt him. It they were capable of this, there would have been no reason to check Gervais for weapons. He sighed and stretched his neck, hearing a few pops of release as it cracked.
“Yeah, I believe you. Wonder what the fuck happened to ‘em?” He felt a shiver run down his spine.
“On second thought, I really don’t.” He turned to Diego and offered an uncomfortable smile.
“Guess we should get comfortable. Away from the dead body, preferably.” Lorenzo made his way inside, dropping his bag as far from the corpse as possible and turning to the others.
“You guys mind if I change real quick? These jeans are soaked and it’s super uncomfortable.”
Only one person could leave this place.
Steph and Diego seemed to have been checking Gervais for weapons. Diego at least put the shovel down when Lorenzo pointed out how silly it looked. Lorenzo wasn’t very familiar with Diego, but he’d seen him around. He was a small guy, maybe like 5’3 or 4. Lorenzo shared a class or two with him, but they didn’t exactly hang out around the same crowds. There wasn’t a lot of cross-contamination, so he only knew him at face value. Trust wasn’t something Lorenzo was willing to give out here, but he needed to get out of this rain, and the temple seemed to be the only thing around that he could dry off in and get some rest. Diego, Steph and Gervais were an added annoyance he’d have to play nice with for now.
At least until the rain let up.
Lorenzo was able to catch something that made him grin unconsciously. Diego’s eyes were pretty well glued to him since he arrived. He knew that kind of stare. They locked eyes now and Lorenzo didn’t break the gaze, still grinning. This could be very useful in making sure this night went by without unnecessary drama or violence. Lorenzo was past his breaking point, even though he was putting on a mask of being fine. His body was still hurting from the myriad of injuries he’d suffered the day before, and his day spent traversing the island in the rain had put him way past the point of exhaustion. He needed to rest, without trouble sprouting it’s nasty head. Steph wasn’t his biggest fan, that much was clear, but if he could endear himself to Diego, and that look in his eyes made it seem very possible, maybe this night could go by easily.
Of course, there was always Gervais to worry about as well. Although, right now Lorenzo wasn’t feeling very concerned. What he remembered from Gervais in school was that he was a bit of a stuck-up prick. But seeing him right now… For some reason Lorenzo kind of felt sorry for the guy. He looked about as pathetic as could be right now, just wet, scared and confused. It was kind of depressing to look at. Diego asked if they were coming in, and Lorenzo smiled sweetly.
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Lorenzo walked up to the duo standing by the door and smiled at both. Diego motioned inside, and Lorenzo felt his smile fade quickly and be replaced by a look of slight disgust mixed with a small twinge of fear.
There was a dead body inside.
Sure, Lorenzo had just seen Cammy fall to her death a few hours before, and yeah, he’d cut Sapphire open before running from the scene, but this was the first fully dead person he’d seen with his own eyes so far. The announcements told him his classmates were dead, but actually seeing it was another thing entirely. Lorenzo felt his legs shake as he just stood in the doorway frozen as he stared at the corpse. The head was a mangled mess of blood and gore, so there was no way of telling who it was. It made him want to puke.
Was this person one of the dead from yesterday, or was this a fresh corpse?
The day was almost over, more people were bound to have died by now. The stench that radiated off the body was sickening. The heat of this island nightmare probably wasn’t helping it smell any better either. Even with all the rain, it was still uncomfortably warm temperature-wise. Just a dead body sitting in the heat. Those thoughts of vomiting came up again. Diego spoke, breaking Lorenzo’s trance on the body. He claimed they didn’t do it, and Lorenzo had no reason to doubt him. It they were capable of this, there would have been no reason to check Gervais for weapons. He sighed and stretched his neck, hearing a few pops of release as it cracked.
“Yeah, I believe you. Wonder what the fuck happened to ‘em?” He felt a shiver run down his spine.
“On second thought, I really don’t.” He turned to Diego and offered an uncomfortable smile.
“Guess we should get comfortable. Away from the dead body, preferably.” Lorenzo made his way inside, dropping his bag as far from the corpse as possible and turning to the others.
“You guys mind if I change real quick? These jeans are soaked and it’s super uncomfortable.”