As soon as Zach got Sean’s answer, Lucas showed up behind him. He had been pestering Zach since he got inside the building. Fucking creepy. What the hell did he even want?
“What?,” Zach answered annoyed.
Lucas was demanding for Zach’s paddle-sword thing. Like hell Zach was just gonna give up a good weapon. He raised the weapon in front of him, both hands on the hilt.
“No fucking way!”, Zach snapped at Lucas, “What are you gonna do? Try to kill us!? Try to kill Thomas!? Try to kill the asshole who killed Desiree!?”
Zach’s grip tightened as he anticipated Lucas’s response.
Right Turn at Albuquerque
Day 2 post-announcement noon-ish: now private (sorry)
B018: Ned Jackson- 
G039: Yuki Hayashibara- 
B034: Zachary Beck- -
MethodicalSlacker
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“The last one.”
Lucas, for the first time in a while, felt serious about what he was saying. Not like when he talked to the camera and asked to be stuffed; that was serious, sure, but he recognized the humor inherent in such an odd request. It wasn’t like when he wanted to jump off the waterfall, either. That was also serious, but in a very different way. The terrorists had made him the butt of a joke, and Lucas, though incredibly aware that he would have found the circumstances hilarious if they were occurring to anyone other than himself, wasn’t ready to deal with it.
There was nothing funny about this, though. This wasn’t just a joke that he didn’t understand. Desiree was dead.
“In the morning, we’ll hear who did it. On the announcements. Right? I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to run into the woods and go searching for the first person I see with a gun. But I can’t kill them unless I have a real weapon, Zach, so unless you’re going to use that to do the same thing that I’m talking about right now I suggest you give your sword, please, look, I’m even asking nicely, please give me your sword Zach. Give me the sword.”
Lucas, for the first time in a while, felt serious about what he was saying. Not like when he talked to the camera and asked to be stuffed; that was serious, sure, but he recognized the humor inherent in such an odd request. It wasn’t like when he wanted to jump off the waterfall, either. That was also serious, but in a very different way. The terrorists had made him the butt of a joke, and Lucas, though incredibly aware that he would have found the circumstances hilarious if they were occurring to anyone other than himself, wasn’t ready to deal with it.
There was nothing funny about this, though. This wasn’t just a joke that he didn’t understand. Desiree was dead.
“In the morning, we’ll hear who did it. On the announcements. Right? I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to run into the woods and go searching for the first person I see with a gun. But I can’t kill them unless I have a real weapon, Zach, so unless you’re going to use that to do the same thing that I’m talking about right now I suggest you give your sword, please, look, I’m even asking nicely, please give me your sword Zach. Give me the sword.”
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Catche Jagger
- Posts: 294
- Joined: Thu May 23, 2019 12:39 am
Still alone. Still no answer. Still no second shot.
He heard shouting from inside, in Zach’s voice, which he could more clearly discern the words of.
He was… he was shouting about killing. Killing him, and Thomas and whoever had killed… Desiree. What the hell was going on in there? What had happened to Desiree? Had the shot hit her? That would mean… mean it went right over his head.
They were trying to kill you.
But why? Who? And what was everyone doing inside? Where they fighting? Dying?
Questions swirled in Thomas’s head. Questions that it seemed would never be answered if he remained where he was, if he remained in the seeming safety of his current position, safety from the person who was explicitly trying to kill him!
“Damn it…” He muttered. “And damn them for making me do this…”
Slowly, Thomas maneuvered on to his hands and knees before slowly crawling towards the door, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. His fear was turning towards an anger, a sense of betrayal.
You’re gonna die because none of them give a shit about you. They’re all wrapped up in their own lives.
He found himself starting to mutter a prayer under his breath. It was the one he remembered best from back when his family used to go to Mass, the classic “Our Father” business. He didn’t think it would do him much good, even if God was up there and was listening, considering where life had brought him. Still, the repetition made him focus on the singular goal of reaching the doorway.
Finally as he reached the doorway, he scrambled inside before rising to his feet. He placed a hand to his chest, taking deep breaths.
He was alive. Still alive.
However, the relief soon gave way to anger once again.
“Why THE FUCK couldn’t anyone tell me what was going on?!" He called out, his voice almost a growl, as he passed further into the building. “What happened to Desiree?!”
He heard shouting from inside, in Zach’s voice, which he could more clearly discern the words of.
He was… he was shouting about killing. Killing him, and Thomas and whoever had killed… Desiree. What the hell was going on in there? What had happened to Desiree? Had the shot hit her? That would mean… mean it went right over his head.
They were trying to kill you.
But why? Who? And what was everyone doing inside? Where they fighting? Dying?
Questions swirled in Thomas’s head. Questions that it seemed would never be answered if he remained where he was, if he remained in the seeming safety of his current position, safety from the person who was explicitly trying to kill him!
“Damn it…” He muttered. “And damn them for making me do this…”
Slowly, Thomas maneuvered on to his hands and knees before slowly crawling towards the door, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. His fear was turning towards an anger, a sense of betrayal.
You’re gonna die because none of them give a shit about you. They’re all wrapped up in their own lives.
He found himself starting to mutter a prayer under his breath. It was the one he remembered best from back when his family used to go to Mass, the classic “Our Father” business. He didn’t think it would do him much good, even if God was up there and was listening, considering where life had brought him. Still, the repetition made him focus on the singular goal of reaching the doorway.
Finally as he reached the doorway, he scrambled inside before rising to his feet. He placed a hand to his chest, taking deep breaths.
He was alive. Still alive.
However, the relief soon gave way to anger once again.
“Why THE FUCK couldn’t anyone tell me what was going on?!" He called out, his voice almost a growl, as he passed further into the building. “What happened to Desiree?!”
There was more yelling now. Not confused yelling made out of fear from earlier. But the angry yells of people on the edge, ready for murder. Sean blinked and rubbed his eyes for some clarity and what he saw made the small amount of confidence he had in the group dissapate completely.
Zach desn't want to give up his weapon to a guy he met a couple minutes ago, what a surpise. His hands was tight around it and seemed ready to strike. Lucas was adamat about getting it and revenge.
Everyone was all too busy screaming about themselves to think about this dead girl. And no, revenge sure as shit didn't count in Sean's book.
A quick look round the room reminded him of Violet lying in one of the beds, it would be weird to add Desiree to that. Esoecially since she was the one with the sense to cover her after they found her, but it was the best he could do at the moment.
Now he suddenly understood whatever the person/people were trying to do with Quinn, even if it didn't really result in her looking peaceful.
Then Thomas made his appearance screaming about information and Desiree.
"She's dead! She's fucking dead alright!" He yelled as he stood next to her. He pointed at Lucas with his right hand. "And he wants to kill whoever did this." He crouched down and lifted her head up with his left so those fuckers could see the hole in her face. "With that." His finger shifted over to Zach's sword.
Not even letting her corpse go cold before deciding to add to the tally.
Zach desn't want to give up his weapon to a guy he met a couple minutes ago, what a surpise. His hands was tight around it and seemed ready to strike. Lucas was adamat about getting it and revenge.
Everyone was all too busy screaming about themselves to think about this dead girl. And no, revenge sure as shit didn't count in Sean's book.
A quick look round the room reminded him of Violet lying in one of the beds, it would be weird to add Desiree to that. Esoecially since she was the one with the sense to cover her after they found her, but it was the best he could do at the moment.
Now he suddenly understood whatever the person/people were trying to do with Quinn, even if it didn't really result in her looking peaceful.
Then Thomas made his appearance screaming about information and Desiree.
"She's dead! She's fucking dead alright!" He yelled as he stood next to her. He pointed at Lucas with his right hand. "And he wants to kill whoever did this." He crouched down and lifted her head up with his left so those fuckers could see the hole in her face. "With that." His finger shifted over to Zach's sword.
Not even letting her corpse go cold before deciding to add to the tally.
So much fucking yelling going on! He could hear Thomas calling from the hall and now Sean was calling back to him. And Lucas wanted his weapon so he could find Desiree’s killer. All this noise was stressing Zach out, so badly he could hardly hear his own thoughts.
“Everybody, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!,” Zach yelled, “Let me fucking think!”
As Zach contemplated what he was gonna do next, the little voice returned.
Just give the damn thing to Lucas! You still got a gun, you still have an advantage.
Zach inhaled and exhaled a long sigh. He loosened his grip on the weapon, and extended this right arm towards Lucas, weapon upside down.
“Fine,” Zach said through gritted teeth, “Go ahead. Take it. Go on an epic fucking quest to avenge Desiree. See where that gets ya.”
“Everybody, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!,” Zach yelled, “Let me fucking think!”
As Zach contemplated what he was gonna do next, the little voice returned.
Just give the damn thing to Lucas! You still got a gun, you still have an advantage.
Zach inhaled and exhaled a long sigh. He loosened his grip on the weapon, and extended this right arm towards Lucas, weapon upside down.
“Fine,” Zach said through gritted teeth, “Go ahead. Take it. Go on an epic fucking quest to avenge Desiree. See where that gets ya.”
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MethodicalSlacker
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Sean saved Lucas the fucking trouble of having to explain to Useless Thomas what happened because he couldn't stand the fuck up and be a good meat shield. Great. Lucas didn't need to waste his breath on a shitstain like Thomas. Amazing. He was enthused. Even moreso when Zach caved in easier than Desiree's skull and handed over the sword. He didn't even need to argue. Not at all. He asked for the sword, he got the sword. Why did it take someone fucking dying for Lucas to realize the power that he had and the weakness of the people around him huh.
Lucas reached out and grabbed the sword from Zach's hand. He also bent down for a second and picked up his Minecraft Sword, too. Part of him wanted to bury it with Desiree but he was fairly certain she wasn't going to be buried to begin with and if these idiots tried they'd just fuck it up. Lucas wasn't going to try either. Let the body rot where it was. It wasn't Desiree anymore. Neither was the other corpse the person it had once been. That person was gone to the void. There was no spirit or soul to conjure up. Electrical impulses gone, person gone. Just how it was. Desiree finally knew peace.
"Thank you," Lucas said pointedly, "I'm going to get going now. I don't want to stick around here anymore. As you said, I have an epic quest to go on."
He turned away from Zach and Sean and made to walk out the door. Thomas was walking down the hall towards the room where Desiree's body was. An obstacle, standing between him and revenge when he should have been standing between Desiree and the bullet instead. Thomas was not the kind of person anyone would want to avenge. Lucas could relate to that. But that didn't change his feelings towards him. Not in the slightest.
"Hey.
"Thomas.
"Move it.
"I have places to be."
Lucas reached out and grabbed the sword from Zach's hand. He also bent down for a second and picked up his Minecraft Sword, too. Part of him wanted to bury it with Desiree but he was fairly certain she wasn't going to be buried to begin with and if these idiots tried they'd just fuck it up. Lucas wasn't going to try either. Let the body rot where it was. It wasn't Desiree anymore. Neither was the other corpse the person it had once been. That person was gone to the void. There was no spirit or soul to conjure up. Electrical impulses gone, person gone. Just how it was. Desiree finally knew peace.
"Thank you," Lucas said pointedly, "I'm going to get going now. I don't want to stick around here anymore. As you said, I have an epic quest to go on."
He turned away from Zach and Sean and made to walk out the door. Thomas was walking down the hall towards the room where Desiree's body was. An obstacle, standing between him and revenge when he should have been standing between Desiree and the bullet instead. Thomas was not the kind of person anyone would want to avenge. Lucas could relate to that. But that didn't change his feelings towards him. Not in the slightest.
"Hey.
"Thomas.
"Move it.
"I have places to be."
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Catche Jagger
- Posts: 294
- Joined: Thu May 23, 2019 12:39 am
Sean, the first person to give enough of a shit to answer him, laid it out straight: Desiree was dead. Dead. The person who’d basically saved him out there on the beach when he was all alone, whose name he hadn’t even known at the time, was dead.
He couldn’t tell if he wanted to cry or vomit.
It wasn’t supposed to be her. It was supposed to be you.
There was more shouting from the other room, but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen. His legs were rooted in place, but he felt like he was falling.
It was supposed to be you.
Where was he? Really, where was he? Was he being punished? Was this all some Twilight Zone episode where we learn that Thomas was actually dead all along and trapped in some hell or purgatory? At least then it’d mean something. Anything. It wouldn’t be a mistake.
It was supposed-
Lucas was there, sword in hand, looking for all the world like a kid that was about to get himself killed. He wanted Thomas to move. Thomas wanted Desiree to not be dead. Things seemed to work out like that sometimes.
“Okay, I will. Once you drop your shit. And the sword. The real one.” There wasn’t any thought in it. Just words. Just actions. Everything Thomas felt in that moment, and it was targeted directly at Lucas.
“If you wanna go get yourself killed that’s fucking fine, go ahead. BUT you’re not gonna hand off a bunch of useful shit to the asshole that killed her! You wanna play pretend hero you can keep the pretend fucking sword, I don’t give a rat’s fucking ass, but leave the useful shit for the people that still WANT TO FUCKING TRY TO SURVIVE!” He roared, spitting a bit with his words as he did. His eyes were burning, but he wasn’t crying, not yet.
He stepped right up to Lucas, staring down at him. He was shaking, uncontrolled.
“And if you really, really just have a deathwish. Just say so.” He hissed as the gun in his hand turned towards Lucas. Thomas wasn’t sure that he meant what he was implying, he wasn’t thinking that hard right now.
He couldn’t tell if he wanted to cry or vomit.
It wasn’t supposed to be her. It was supposed to be you.
There was more shouting from the other room, but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen. His legs were rooted in place, but he felt like he was falling.
It was supposed to be you.
Where was he? Really, where was he? Was he being punished? Was this all some Twilight Zone episode where we learn that Thomas was actually dead all along and trapped in some hell or purgatory? At least then it’d mean something. Anything. It wouldn’t be a mistake.
It was supposed-
Lucas was there, sword in hand, looking for all the world like a kid that was about to get himself killed. He wanted Thomas to move. Thomas wanted Desiree to not be dead. Things seemed to work out like that sometimes.
“Okay, I will. Once you drop your shit. And the sword. The real one.” There wasn’t any thought in it. Just words. Just actions. Everything Thomas felt in that moment, and it was targeted directly at Lucas.
“If you wanna go get yourself killed that’s fucking fine, go ahead. BUT you’re not gonna hand off a bunch of useful shit to the asshole that killed her! You wanna play pretend hero you can keep the pretend fucking sword, I don’t give a rat’s fucking ass, but leave the useful shit for the people that still WANT TO FUCKING TRY TO SURVIVE!” He roared, spitting a bit with his words as he did. His eyes were burning, but he wasn’t crying, not yet.
He stepped right up to Lucas, staring down at him. He was shaking, uncontrolled.
“And if you really, really just have a deathwish. Just say so.” He hissed as the gun in his hand turned towards Lucas. Thomas wasn’t sure that he meant what he was implying, he wasn’t thinking that hard right now.
It didn't take long for things to go haywire, at least in Sean's mind. Zach was suddenly, though begrudingly sounding cooperative with Lucas, gave him sword and Lucas fucked off down the hallway to have fun times with the killer or whatever. Sean couldn't think of a reason why he'd do that, maybe he was just tired of all this.
Sean wouldn't blame him. From just a glance Zach looked like shit right now from where he was standing. Then again, Sean wasn't looking much better at the moment.
There was more yelling now down the hall, the awkward duo hashing it out, but Sean didn't care about that. If Thomas got his own fucking pens this wouldn't have happened and if Lucas's first thought was revenge rather than making sure Desiree got anything resembling decency after death then fuck him and his high horse, both of them. Instead he focused on dragging Desiree, properly this time. Putting his hands under her arms and getting her to the side of the bed. He knew this part would get rather awkward if he tried alone so he looked over to Zach.
"Zach, can...can you help me with this?"
Sean wouldn't blame him. From just a glance Zach looked like shit right now from where he was standing. Then again, Sean wasn't looking much better at the moment.
There was more yelling now down the hall, the awkward duo hashing it out, but Sean didn't care about that. If Thomas got his own fucking pens this wouldn't have happened and if Lucas's first thought was revenge rather than making sure Desiree got anything resembling decency after death then fuck him and his high horse, both of them. Instead he focused on dragging Desiree, properly this time. Putting his hands under her arms and getting her to the side of the bed. He knew this part would get rather awkward if he tried alone so he looked over to Zach.
"Zach, can...can you help me with this?"
Zach looked at Sean, who was carrying Desiree’s corpse, with a look of disgust. Was he really gonna waste his time trying to make her corpse more presentable? Well, if he’s gonna earn Sean’s trust, he’ll have to work for it.
“Fine,” Zach groaned, “may as well let those two work things out themselves.”
Zach walked over to Desiree’s corpse, grabbing the legs. Be it because of his height or that being dead added some extra weight, but Desiree was heavy. They lifted the body onto the bed, with a chill running down Zach’s spine as they finished. Zach was still not comfortable around dead bodies at this point, even after what he’d been through. He wiped his shirt, despite not having a hint of blood on him, surprisingly. He just felt dirty having touched a dead girl.
Zach left to watch what was becoming of Thomas and Lucas. Thomas had been yelling during the time Zach and Sean took to lift the corpse. To his surprise, Thomas was pointing his gun at Lucas. This was turning out just like the lighthouse, only more gradual.
“Fine,” Zach groaned, “may as well let those two work things out themselves.”
Zach walked over to Desiree’s corpse, grabbing the legs. Be it because of his height or that being dead added some extra weight, but Desiree was heavy. They lifted the body onto the bed, with a chill running down Zach’s spine as they finished. Zach was still not comfortable around dead bodies at this point, even after what he’d been through. He wiped his shirt, despite not having a hint of blood on him, surprisingly. He just felt dirty having touched a dead girl.
Zach left to watch what was becoming of Thomas and Lucas. Thomas had been yelling during the time Zach and Sean took to lift the corpse. To his surprise, Thomas was pointing his gun at Lucas. This was turning out just like the lighthouse, only more gradual.
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MethodicalSlacker
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Lucas stared blankly at Thomas for a few moments. His face looked positively gnarled. Wrenched into something enraged and animal. The most disgustingly impetuous person that Lucas had ever seen save his own mother sometimes. Rain started to pour outside. It was unfortunate for Thomas that this was not the first time that Lucas had a gun pointed at him. Really quite unfortunate, because Lucas knew what it felt like, and knew that right now, it didn't feel like much at all. Thomas was a child, and this was no place for children. Certainly not a place for a child to be holding a gun. Not at all, not at all.
"You think I want to die?" Lucas said, "I don't. I intend on finding Desiree's murderer and killing them. I do not intend on dying. That's not a part of the plan. But you seem like you want to kill me. Right? Why else would you point that gun at me unless you wanted me dead. I know you don't like me, Thomas. You apologized for me at the yacht and whatever but that was bullshit and you and I know it. Saving your ass. Worried I was 'unstable,' whatever the fuck that meant. I don't care. I'm used to that. People walking on eggshells around me because they don't want to set off an 'episode' or make me have a 'breakdown,' all the fucking time after they brought me back, but it's been years and they still—"
Lucas trailed off and shook his head, dismissing himself from the conversation. He took a couple steps back, and held his arms out to the side, blades pointing upwards. This is what Desiree would have called a t-pose, probably, he realized. His brother did that sometimes.
"Whatever. You don't care about my life story because you're about to end it, right? So, if you want to stop me, shoot me. Go ahead. Make it hurt. Shoot me wherever you want. I won't do anything, just gun me down. Make it hurt. Take out my legs first. Make it so I can't run away from you, Thomas. Draw it out. Or do it in one shot and make me bleed to death. Make it hurt, Thomas. Better make it fucking count, since you hate me so much. Give what I have to the people that 'want to survive,' the people that you think deserve to survive. Go on. Pull the trigger. Make it hurt. Make me hurt. Make me suffer, Thomas. Fucking shoot me."
"Pussy."
"You think I want to die?" Lucas said, "I don't. I intend on finding Desiree's murderer and killing them. I do not intend on dying. That's not a part of the plan. But you seem like you want to kill me. Right? Why else would you point that gun at me unless you wanted me dead. I know you don't like me, Thomas. You apologized for me at the yacht and whatever but that was bullshit and you and I know it. Saving your ass. Worried I was 'unstable,' whatever the fuck that meant. I don't care. I'm used to that. People walking on eggshells around me because they don't want to set off an 'episode' or make me have a 'breakdown,' all the fucking time after they brought me back, but it's been years and they still—"
Lucas trailed off and shook his head, dismissing himself from the conversation. He took a couple steps back, and held his arms out to the side, blades pointing upwards. This is what Desiree would have called a t-pose, probably, he realized. His brother did that sometimes.
"Whatever. You don't care about my life story because you're about to end it, right? So, if you want to stop me, shoot me. Go ahead. Make it hurt. Shoot me wherever you want. I won't do anything, just gun me down. Make it hurt. Take out my legs first. Make it so I can't run away from you, Thomas. Draw it out. Or do it in one shot and make me bleed to death. Make it hurt, Thomas. Better make it fucking count, since you hate me so much. Give what I have to the people that 'want to survive,' the people that you think deserve to survive. Go on. Pull the trigger. Make it hurt. Make me hurt. Make me suffer, Thomas. Fucking shoot me."
"Pussy."
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Catche Jagger
- Posts: 294
- Joined: Thu May 23, 2019 12:39 am
Lucas didn’t even think he was going to die running after someone who shot at them from, like, a mile away with nothing but a damn sword that he had no idea how to use. He was lost, deluded.
For a moment, Thomas thought that Lucas might finally back down in the face of the gun, come to his senses and quit his martyr bullshit. Didn’t happen, though. Instead, the idiot had gone on a damn rant, ending in a dare.
Thomas was seething.
“Don’t you fucking call me a liar! Don’t you fucking call me bullshit! Don’t throw me trying to do fucking something right out like you’re the fucking victim.” The boy stepped up to Lucas once again and placed the barrel of the pistol right to Lucas’s forehead.
“You’re a selfish, stupid, self-righteous piece of shit and still, FUCKING STILL I wanted this shit to work!” He knew it would feel good on come level, to shut Lucas up. To wipe that certainty off of his face, blow it away as the back of the guy’s head was blown away.
You won’t get what you want though.
The arm holding the pistol trembled slightly, but his eyes remained locked to Lucas.
You want him to go back. For all of it to go back. You’ve already ruined that, though.
“Fuck you, you fucking sick fuck.” His finger was on the trigger. All it would take was a little pressure and Lucas Diaz would cease to be.
A deep breath. Shaking.
“FUCK!” Thomas turned and drove the side of his left fist into the wall beside him as he let his right arm fall limply to his side.
“Just go…” He spoke up after a moment, staring into the spot where his hand had just impacted, his voice now only a labored whisper. “Go fucking die alone…”
For a moment, Thomas thought that Lucas might finally back down in the face of the gun, come to his senses and quit his martyr bullshit. Didn’t happen, though. Instead, the idiot had gone on a damn rant, ending in a dare.
Thomas was seething.
“Don’t you fucking call me a liar! Don’t you fucking call me bullshit! Don’t throw me trying to do fucking something right out like you’re the fucking victim.” The boy stepped up to Lucas once again and placed the barrel of the pistol right to Lucas’s forehead.
“You’re a selfish, stupid, self-righteous piece of shit and still, FUCKING STILL I wanted this shit to work!” He knew it would feel good on come level, to shut Lucas up. To wipe that certainty off of his face, blow it away as the back of the guy’s head was blown away.
You won’t get what you want though.
The arm holding the pistol trembled slightly, but his eyes remained locked to Lucas.
You want him to go back. For all of it to go back. You’ve already ruined that, though.
“Fuck you, you fucking sick fuck.” His finger was on the trigger. All it would take was a little pressure and Lucas Diaz would cease to be.
A deep breath. Shaking.
“FUCK!” Thomas turned and drove the side of his left fist into the wall beside him as he let his right arm fall limply to his side.
“Just go…” He spoke up after a moment, staring into the spot where his hand had just impacted, his voice now only a labored whisper. “Go fucking die alone…”
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
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- Contact:
For a moment, Lucas almost thought Thomas was going to do it. When the gun barrel pressed against his forehead, he tensed up. A bead of sweat formed on the side of his face. He wasn't brave. Not very, at least. But he was a cocky idiot, and shortly after Thomas cursed him out some more Lucas was proven right. The gun was moved away from his temple, and he was told to leave instead. Lucas couldn't help but smirk. Chickenshit over here really didn't have the balls, unless his plan was to shoot him in the back when he left. True, Lucas couldn't account for that. There was nothing he could do in that scenario at all. At the same time, it wasn't worth giving up on everything to do that. Never.
Lucas lowered his arms and walked past Thomas. Saying anything else to him wasn't worth it. He had something he wanted to clarify, but he didn't feel like it. And anyway, what good would goodbye do? Dude was clearly unstable. He'd just risk another fucking meltdown. Another episode. Maybe that was a bit mean, but it was true. Freaky guy, freaky guy. Hey, how did he and Desiree meet anyway? Wasn't worth thinking about. Nope. Lock those worries away in the vault, Lucas. Nothing good will come of that.
As he left through the front doors of the infirmary, he spotted a camera off to the side pointed straight at him. There. He could make his clarification here, to the people who might still make sense.
"I'm not alone," he said to them, "and I'm not going to die."
And then he walked on, swords in hands, bag around his shoulders. Lucas disappeared into the trees, searching for a different place to take shelter from the rain. Somewhere quiet. He wouldn't have to search too long. The village was full of buildings, and he doubted each and every one of them had a person inside.
It was only when he was well away from the infirmary that he finally allowed himself to shed a few tears for Desiree. He didn't have enough, but that didn't matter too much.
The sky was crying too.
[Lucas Diaz continued in Four Line Poem.]
Lucas lowered his arms and walked past Thomas. Saying anything else to him wasn't worth it. He had something he wanted to clarify, but he didn't feel like it. And anyway, what good would goodbye do? Dude was clearly unstable. He'd just risk another fucking meltdown. Another episode. Maybe that was a bit mean, but it was true. Freaky guy, freaky guy. Hey, how did he and Desiree meet anyway? Wasn't worth thinking about. Nope. Lock those worries away in the vault, Lucas. Nothing good will come of that.
As he left through the front doors of the infirmary, he spotted a camera off to the side pointed straight at him. There. He could make his clarification here, to the people who might still make sense.
"I'm not alone," he said to them, "and I'm not going to die."
And then he walked on, swords in hands, bag around his shoulders. Lucas disappeared into the trees, searching for a different place to take shelter from the rain. Somewhere quiet. He wouldn't have to search too long. The village was full of buildings, and he doubted each and every one of them had a person inside.
It was only when he was well away from the infirmary that he finally allowed himself to shed a few tears for Desiree. He didn't have enough, but that didn't matter too much.
The sky was crying too.
[Lucas Diaz continued in Four Line Poem.]
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- Sean let out a small thanks as Zach made his way over and helped him with Desiree. Even though his face told the truth, Sean appreciated that he helped anyway. Once they got her up on the bed, it didn't take long for him to go and look at the two fucks in the hall.
Probably more exciting than what he was going to do.
He grabbed the bed cover and was about to pull it over her before stopping. The arguing outside had stopped.
About time. "Thomas! Get your ass in here!" He laid the cover down under her chin and waited.
Probably more exciting than what he was going to do.
He grabbed the bed cover and was about to pull it over her before stopping. The arguing outside had stopped.
About time. "Thomas! Get your ass in here!" He laid the cover down under her chin and waited.
(Adopted from Dannyrulx)
So, thankfully, there wasn’t another corpse that needed to be picked up. Thomas pussed out of shooting Lucas and punched the wall instead. That must have hurt his knuckle. Lucas left and walked out into the rain, with the weapon Zach had given him. Oh yeah, it was raining. Guess Zach will have to stay here until it dies down. In a building with a couple of corpses. Damn it...
Sean yelled for Thomas to come help him, while Zach loitered at the doorway. He looked at Thomas with a neutral expression, with a hint of sympathy.
“Don’t worry about that guy,” said Zach, “If he wants to play the hero, let him.”
Zach returned to help Sean with the body. He grabbed one end of the blanket and covered Desiree’s legs.
“So, should we say something?”, Zach asked.
Sean yelled for Thomas to come help him, while Zach loitered at the doorway. He looked at Thomas with a neutral expression, with a hint of sympathy.
“Don’t worry about that guy,” said Zach, “If he wants to play the hero, let him.”
Zach returned to help Sean with the body. He grabbed one end of the blanket and covered Desiree’s legs.
“So, should we say something?”, Zach asked.
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Catche Jagger
- Posts: 294
- Joined: Thu May 23, 2019 12:39 am
Zach tried to say something encouraging. It was more than Thomas would’ve expected. It also didn’t do him much good.
Almost as soon as Lucas stepped outside, Thomas’s legs gave out and the boy slumped to the ground, crying.
It was raining outside. When did that start? He hadn’t even noticed it until now. The rain was coming down and would wash away any hopes he might have of setting up some sort of signal fire.
But that didn’t even matter anymore, did it? He’d lost control. He could have talked to Lucas, explained why going off alone was stupid, could’ve said they would put it up to a vote and act together if need be. He could have done something other than flipping out and whipping his gun around.
Sean called out to him, but he didn’t reply. He couldn’t. Words wouldn't form at his lips, they were trembling too much.
You’re right back where you started from back on the beach. Maybe even worse off now.
Thomas was the person with the weapon. He was supposed to watch out for this now-shattered group, take point. Now he’d not only failed to protect the people here, but he’d had a hand in their ends.
As he sat on the ground sobbing to himself, tears running down his cheeks and snot clogging up is nostrils, he knew it to be true.
Thomas Buckley had killed two people today.
Almost as soon as Lucas stepped outside, Thomas’s legs gave out and the boy slumped to the ground, crying.
It was raining outside. When did that start? He hadn’t even noticed it until now. The rain was coming down and would wash away any hopes he might have of setting up some sort of signal fire.
But that didn’t even matter anymore, did it? He’d lost control. He could have talked to Lucas, explained why going off alone was stupid, could’ve said they would put it up to a vote and act together if need be. He could have done something other than flipping out and whipping his gun around.
Sean called out to him, but he didn’t reply. He couldn’t. Words wouldn't form at his lips, they were trembling too much.
You’re right back where you started from back on the beach. Maybe even worse off now.
Thomas was the person with the weapon. He was supposed to watch out for this now-shattered group, take point. Now he’d not only failed to protect the people here, but he’d had a hand in their ends.
As he sat on the ground sobbing to himself, tears running down his cheeks and snot clogging up is nostrils, he knew it to be true.
Thomas Buckley had killed two people today.