Darlene was kind of on the fence about letting Max go off on his own and explore from the moment he first proposed it, but she was willing to at least consider the possibility of doing what he wanted and staying back. It wasn't that she was afraid, not really. If anything, Darlene was actually a whole lot more afraid that Max would get into trouble without her around to back him up. She had the gun, and he only had The Claw and fearsome though it was it also wasn't a match for anyone more equipped than Darlene to dish out retributive punishment, at least that was what she assumed. If he'd grabbed her by another part, she might even have shot him back then, which was horrible to even come close to imagining.
That wasn't to suggest that Darlene wasn't also afraid for herself. She was! She was terrified, or at least on edge because it was hard to maintain a state of active terror for days on end, but Max offering to take point and him putting himself on the line for her sake (and Stephanie's too, Darlene supposed, probably) got her in the same way Jonah did, and that meant that she would do what she could and had to in order to repay his kindness and trust. Just, she also didn't want to disrespect the gesture by rejecting it.
This is why, when Stephanie took off on Max's heels, her pursuit if not hot at least lukewarm, Darlene tagged right along. It wasn't that she still sort of expected violence from Stephanie. It wasn't like that same lack of trust that had for a long while (incorrectly! She had to remember that!) colored her perceptions of Beryl was back full force. It wasn't that she was planning how to shoot the girl in the back if she had to. Just, if she did have to, she wanted to be in position to make sure it was to rescue Max rather than to avenge him. That was just prudence, right?
Darlene was mostly concerned with watching the back of Stephanie's way too blonde and fit-yet-softly-pretty frame to take in much else, pondering aim, but still she was a little surprised when the girl broke the silence to ask for a status update. It was a good surprise, at least, probably. It seemed genuine.
It was really hard to see anything of the building past the people in the way, so Darlene let her gaze drift for a moment. A quick scan of the area outside confirmed that they were still alone. She did some quick comparison of possibilities, and decided that she probably trusted a hypothetical stranger hiding inside trying to just get some sleep or stay safe more than she trusted the girl they were taking care of simply because it was what Jonah would do.
"I think," Darlene said, not touching Stephanie, not standing too close because she might need some space if she had to bring the gun up but not too far because what the practice had taught her was that she wasn't really good at aiming, "we should let Max look deeper and then ca—and then he can call us. But we should wait here for now and guard."
She put the emphasis on "we."
Circle Of Steel
Day Six, post-announcements, open once Max arrives
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:18 am
- Location: Here And There Along The Echo
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The living room was filthy. Not only was it currently in a state of gross decay and disarray, whatever cacophony had occurred within was long enough ago for the bloodstains on the reclining couch to have dried. Someone was either murdered here, or someone was brutally attacked here, or a wounded combatant bled out, or was patched up—the smudge marks told many stories, none of them compatible with one another. The streaks of refuse on the ground painted a clearer picture in all their grisly swirling miasma, a disgusting, putrid trail running from living room to a chamber in the back of the house. Max heard the faint buzzing of flies—fewer than he would expect for a corpse. Death was not an unfamiliar smell to him, though it had not at all forgotten its stabbing intensity—the gruesome scene in the manor house was not so easily forgotten.
In not checking the back room, Max was allowing for the possibility that he was leaving behind something that could be useful, be it information or material supplies. It made rational sense to investigate the trail, at the very least so that he could sleep that night without toiling in the throes of the unknown. He took a step away from the mess in the living room, and then heard Stephanie's voice close behind him.
"Stay outside," Max said, "I still need to check the rest of the house."
In all truthfulness, Max did not trust Stephanie to be able to handle even the minimum amount of gore present in the front room, and he was already certain without a full viewing that whatever esoteric corpse was in the bedchamber was far too horrifying for even Darlene's eyes, but a thorough search was still warranted. There could be supplies to find, and although Max was not hurting for food, his water supply was starting to dwindle. Holding the man-catcher upward like a staff, he walked down the hall, careful not to step in the steadily increasing mess on the floor. The door to the back room was open—there was likely nobody inside if that was the case. Carefully, as he stood out of sight of the door, he thrust the pole end of his man-catcher through the threshold and tapped the floor before quickly retracting it and listening for a shifting noise that would reveal the presence of a hidden person.
Nothing.
That, then, was Max's cue to enter, gaze into the room for a few seconds, and then leave. A more detailed look invited more risk than he desired. If nothing useful was in full view, he'd leave. Finding shelter was his priority. He took a deep breath—through his mouth, not wanting to inhale anymore of the stench of death—and swiveled around the door-frame into the room,
and if there was one thing he was not expecting to find,
it was words.
After he had said a quiet word under his breath, he turned and left the room. There was nothing useful in there anyways. Not in death, and not in life, he thought, knowing that if he were not expected to present a steadfast outward facade he would have smiled at that with a tear in his eye. Bert hadn't been a friend, but she'd been an interesting presence whenever Max had known her. He knew that she detested him. Most did. It was only to be expected. But he'd appreciated her potential silently from a distance for a long time. Nothing survived Survival of the Fittest.
"Not this one," he said to Stephanie as he exited the house, "we need to keep searching."
In not checking the back room, Max was allowing for the possibility that he was leaving behind something that could be useful, be it information or material supplies. It made rational sense to investigate the trail, at the very least so that he could sleep that night without toiling in the throes of the unknown. He took a step away from the mess in the living room, and then heard Stephanie's voice close behind him.
"Stay outside," Max said, "I still need to check the rest of the house."
In all truthfulness, Max did not trust Stephanie to be able to handle even the minimum amount of gore present in the front room, and he was already certain without a full viewing that whatever esoteric corpse was in the bedchamber was far too horrifying for even Darlene's eyes, but a thorough search was still warranted. There could be supplies to find, and although Max was not hurting for food, his water supply was starting to dwindle. Holding the man-catcher upward like a staff, he walked down the hall, careful not to step in the steadily increasing mess on the floor. The door to the back room was open—there was likely nobody inside if that was the case. Carefully, as he stood out of sight of the door, he thrust the pole end of his man-catcher through the threshold and tapped the floor before quickly retracting it and listening for a shifting noise that would reveal the presence of a hidden person.
Nothing.
That, then, was Max's cue to enter, gaze into the room for a few seconds, and then leave. A more detailed look invited more risk than he desired. If nothing useful was in full view, he'd leave. Finding shelter was his priority. He took a deep breath—through his mouth, not wanting to inhale anymore of the stench of death—and swiveled around the door-frame into the room,
and if there was one thing he was not expecting to find,
it was words.
After he had said a quiet word under his breath, he turned and left the room. There was nothing useful in there anyways. Not in death, and not in life, he thought, knowing that if he were not expected to present a steadfast outward facade he would have smiled at that with a tear in his eye. Bert hadn't been a friend, but she'd been an interesting presence whenever Max had known her. He knew that she detested him. Most did. It was only to be expected. But he'd appreciated her potential silently from a distance for a long time. Nothing survived Survival of the Fittest.
"Not this one," he said to Stephanie as he exited the house, "we need to keep searching."
The other girl wanted to let Max have some time or something to check things out. So they stood there. In silence, just waiting for Max to come out.
Why? She needed to get inside, to ball up, or let it out or something. Everything just hurt and she wanted to go inside and she wanted Max to come out and say they could go in.
"Not this one. We need to keep searching."
Stephanie just wrapped her arms around herself to fight off the cold. Why did it feel so cold when it wasn't cold out?
Why? She needed to get inside, to ball up, or let it out or something. Everything just hurt and she wanted to go inside and she wanted Max to come out and say they could go in.
"Not this one. We need to keep searching."
Stephanie just wrapped her arms around herself to fight off the cold. Why did it feel so cold when it wasn't cold out?
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."
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Max backed up Darlene's suggestion that the girls let him take the lead and just hold on outside, and she was pretty glad for that, even if he was almost definitely not suggesting it for the same reasons she was. They were both looking out for each other, protecting each other in their own ways, just Darlene wasn't going to make that obvious because while she thought Max would maybe appreciate the gesture he also seemed to trust Stephanie a whole lot more than Darlene did and she didn't want that divergence of opinion to become a point of contention unless it absolutely had to.
Stephanie wasn't really saying or doing anything and Darlene was trying not to just stare at the girl or—worse!—glare at her, because she was trying to do right by Max and Jonah and extend the benefit of the doubt here. There wasn't that much else to look at, though. At least it was quiet. Darlene was absolutely no-way-no-how not going to make small talk, so instead she occupied herself looking and listening.
Outside there was nothing to look at, as she'd well established in her past minutes carefully cataloging all its nothingness, but there were always sounds. That was something Darlene had learned when she first started staying up until midnight (or, in recent years, way way way past midnight): the world was never truly quiet. Even in her bedroom back in Chattanooga there were all sorts of ambient noises—cars passing irregularly on nearby streets, the faint whir of laptop fan and hard drive, the creaking and settling of the house as minuscule shifts were caused by the wind or the drift of tectonic plates or whatever. On the island, there weren't any of those man-made sounds, but what there was was a whole lot more nature. Most of what was obvious was the movement of foliage in the wind (faint though the air currents often felt) and the continuing activity of bugs and birds. There were so many bugs! They hummed and chirped and clicked and buzzed, and Darlene tried to tune them out so she wouldn't worry about them crawling up her legs or getting tangled up in her hair with their jagged little legs.
As for things to see in the building, she could tell it was real messy. There were footprints and stuff on the ground, on the floor and on a rug, and Darlene scrunched up her eyes and squinted at that and yep, someone had cut a piece out of the rug for some reason. It was too neat a removal to have been carelessly torn, and there was no loose fabric lying around.
She really wished Max would hurry back. Darlene didn't mind silence and just sort of being with people normally but the more time passed here the antsier she got that she was making the wrong choice and that someone was choking Max to death with their shoelaces in the next room like it was a spy story.
And then he was back, and it was time to go.
His tone said it all. Probably lots of bugs in here too. Darlene nodded.
"Next door looks nicer anyways?" she said.
Stephanie wasn't really saying or doing anything and Darlene was trying not to just stare at the girl or—worse!—glare at her, because she was trying to do right by Max and Jonah and extend the benefit of the doubt here. There wasn't that much else to look at, though. At least it was quiet. Darlene was absolutely no-way-no-how not going to make small talk, so instead she occupied herself looking and listening.
Outside there was nothing to look at, as she'd well established in her past minutes carefully cataloging all its nothingness, but there were always sounds. That was something Darlene had learned when she first started staying up until midnight (or, in recent years, way way way past midnight): the world was never truly quiet. Even in her bedroom back in Chattanooga there were all sorts of ambient noises—cars passing irregularly on nearby streets, the faint whir of laptop fan and hard drive, the creaking and settling of the house as minuscule shifts were caused by the wind or the drift of tectonic plates or whatever. On the island, there weren't any of those man-made sounds, but what there was was a whole lot more nature. Most of what was obvious was the movement of foliage in the wind (faint though the air currents often felt) and the continuing activity of bugs and birds. There were so many bugs! They hummed and chirped and clicked and buzzed, and Darlene tried to tune them out so she wouldn't worry about them crawling up her legs or getting tangled up in her hair with their jagged little legs.
As for things to see in the building, she could tell it was real messy. There were footprints and stuff on the ground, on the floor and on a rug, and Darlene scrunched up her eyes and squinted at that and yep, someone had cut a piece out of the rug for some reason. It was too neat a removal to have been carelessly torn, and there was no loose fabric lying around.
She really wished Max would hurry back. Darlene didn't mind silence and just sort of being with people normally but the more time passed here the antsier she got that she was making the wrong choice and that someone was choking Max to death with their shoelaces in the next room like it was a spy story.
And then he was back, and it was time to go.
His tone said it all. Probably lots of bugs in here too. Darlene nodded.
"Next door looks nicer anyways?" she said.
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
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Max nodded in assent. He'd repeat the process with the next household, and the following neighboring household, until they found a space suitable to spend the night. A place that could promise safety from the terrors that hid behind the curtain of night. He passed Darlene and Stephanie and stepped down from the porch. The blunt end of the man-catcher bumped the ground beneath him as he walked. Max was holding it in just one hand, now, like a walking stick or staff. Effectively, that was the purpose it now served. It helped him to move, and it helped him to tap the inside of the houses to flush out any intruders. The claw would see no further use if he could help it.
The next-door house was unsuitable. The windows were broken, and someone could easily climb inside in the night. Max signaled to the others that it was necessary that the search continued, and went on his way. He could barely get anywhere near the next house—it smelled of decay, and there was a stripe of blood on the door, and corpses practically bursting from the house's seams, so he decided it prudent to pass over the house and never return. The next house also had a corpse, and the next. He was running out of houses to investigate.
Finally, Max came back to the house with broken windows.
"It has to be this one," he said to the girls, "the others, they're no good."
And inside he went.
To say the night passed uneventfully would be a lie. Early in the night Max woke up to the smell of burning wood, and out the window saw that only a few houses away a building was burning to the ground. It didn't look like it had any way of migrating towards the group's shelter, but he stayed up until it burned out early in the morning. Just watching. After that, there was no way he could sleep. He hadn't planned on much of a heavy slumber anyway, even without taking into account the acts of his classmates running amok in the sable night. Thus, he spent the duration of the night in a hypnagogic state, his awareness winnowing down and then suddenly springing back to life when he heard a bump in the night.
Until the morning came, and the announcements with them. The hackneyed tones of Danya's voice meant nothing to him now, on a personal level. But he needed something to listen to. Something to keep him away. He could grab onto the words, and he could hang onto them. Sleep was rising, and the words above them, crawling up towards the sky.
There were a few names that stuck out to him.
First, there was Wyatt. Both of the Carter brothers were gone. He'd paid them so much mind early on, thinking of what he would do if he ran into them. Their size lent them more importance than they were ultimately worth, of course. It painted a target on their backs. It made it harder for them to survive, to support all that mass. A gun would do just fine, he noted grimly. Tirzah herself was not a threat beyond the gun. The weapon made the man. Fitness was a farce.
Next, there was Marco. It seemed like the killing forces on the island were slowing down. He hadn't anticipated that the people hyper-fixated on violence would burn themselves out so soon. The level of rational thought in the head of someone bringing a chainsaw to a gunfight was low. He was honestly surprised that Marco hadn't gone out earlier. Max didn't know him to be the kind who had self-preservation in mind, but he also didn't know him very well. The more time passed, the less connected he felt to his class. Darlene was more important to him than all of these names, and he'd barely known her before now.
Lastly, Quinn. It sounded like Arizona was carrying on Max's original, misguided mission in his stead. Jonah wasn't on the announcements. He was probably okay. The goal was to find them, eventually. He was surprised he hadn't come up on them in the last day. The village was deceptively large, he reckoned. And they likely were not here anymore. The rice paddies and wilderness south of the village was off limits, and that was fine. Well-trodden ground. The speakers hissed until they were done speaking. A bug landed on the windowsill. Max flicked it off. The man-catcher caught the light of the sun and reflected it back into the front room of the house, right into Max's eyes. He nudged it with his foot, and it fell onto the ground with a clang. That would probably wake up the others.
It was time to wake the others up, but Max found it hard to rise from his perch. Maybe he could afford to spend just a little more time here, taking in the sun, and the heat. Maybe, just a little.
And there in the dawn luminescence, Max fell asleep, snoring loudly.
The next-door house was unsuitable. The windows were broken, and someone could easily climb inside in the night. Max signaled to the others that it was necessary that the search continued, and went on his way. He could barely get anywhere near the next house—it smelled of decay, and there was a stripe of blood on the door, and corpses practically bursting from the house's seams, so he decided it prudent to pass over the house and never return. The next house also had a corpse, and the next. He was running out of houses to investigate.
Finally, Max came back to the house with broken windows.
"It has to be this one," he said to the girls, "the others, they're no good."
And inside he went.
To say the night passed uneventfully would be a lie. Early in the night Max woke up to the smell of burning wood, and out the window saw that only a few houses away a building was burning to the ground. It didn't look like it had any way of migrating towards the group's shelter, but he stayed up until it burned out early in the morning. Just watching. After that, there was no way he could sleep. He hadn't planned on much of a heavy slumber anyway, even without taking into account the acts of his classmates running amok in the sable night. Thus, he spent the duration of the night in a hypnagogic state, his awareness winnowing down and then suddenly springing back to life when he heard a bump in the night.
Until the morning came, and the announcements with them. The hackneyed tones of Danya's voice meant nothing to him now, on a personal level. But he needed something to listen to. Something to keep him away. He could grab onto the words, and he could hang onto them. Sleep was rising, and the words above them, crawling up towards the sky.
There were a few names that stuck out to him.
First, there was Wyatt. Both of the Carter brothers were gone. He'd paid them so much mind early on, thinking of what he would do if he ran into them. Their size lent them more importance than they were ultimately worth, of course. It painted a target on their backs. It made it harder for them to survive, to support all that mass. A gun would do just fine, he noted grimly. Tirzah herself was not a threat beyond the gun. The weapon made the man. Fitness was a farce.
Next, there was Marco. It seemed like the killing forces on the island were slowing down. He hadn't anticipated that the people hyper-fixated on violence would burn themselves out so soon. The level of rational thought in the head of someone bringing a chainsaw to a gunfight was low. He was honestly surprised that Marco hadn't gone out earlier. Max didn't know him to be the kind who had self-preservation in mind, but he also didn't know him very well. The more time passed, the less connected he felt to his class. Darlene was more important to him than all of these names, and he'd barely known her before now.
Lastly, Quinn. It sounded like Arizona was carrying on Max's original, misguided mission in his stead. Jonah wasn't on the announcements. He was probably okay. The goal was to find them, eventually. He was surprised he hadn't come up on them in the last day. The village was deceptively large, he reckoned. And they likely were not here anymore. The rice paddies and wilderness south of the village was off limits, and that was fine. Well-trodden ground. The speakers hissed until they were done speaking. A bug landed on the windowsill. Max flicked it off. The man-catcher caught the light of the sun and reflected it back into the front room of the house, right into Max's eyes. He nudged it with his foot, and it fell onto the ground with a clang. That would probably wake up the others.
It was time to wake the others up, but Max found it hard to rise from his perch. Maybe he could afford to spend just a little more time here, taking in the sun, and the heat. Maybe, just a little.
And there in the dawn luminescence, Max fell asleep, snoring loudly.
Not in that house, for whatever reason. Max went to a couple other houses before coming back to one that had a few broken windows. Stephanie just nodded as she went inside and found a room before curling up into a ball, trying to forget where she was, and eventually falling asleep.
----------
She dreamed that night. Of what, she couldn't remember. But she felt, she felt somewhat better, even if her sleep was a bit fitful. But when she started feeling the light and heat of day, she actually felt, well, semi-human, even if one thing was still going through Stephanie's mind.
"Can you promise me everything's going to turn out alright? Like, everyone's going to come out of this just fine?"
"I ... I don't know. I want to think it, but I'm just hoping we can just get out of this alive."
That was when the announcement came on. More people were dead. Quinn Abert was dead. Valerjia had killed. Tyrell had killed Lorenzo. The Carters were down. Erika was in double digits. Stephanie shook her head as she got up and looked down at herself, and at a reflection in some stray glass.
No. Absolutely not.
If she was getting out of this alive, she was getting out of this alive and looking her best.
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She dreamed that night. Of what, she couldn't remember. But she felt, she felt somewhat better, even if her sleep was a bit fitful. But when she started feeling the light and heat of day, she actually felt, well, semi-human, even if one thing was still going through Stephanie's mind.
"Can you promise me everything's going to turn out alright? Like, everyone's going to come out of this just fine?"
"I ... I don't know. I want to think it, but I'm just hoping we can just get out of this alive."
That was when the announcement came on. More people were dead. Quinn Abert was dead. Valerjia had killed. Tyrell had killed Lorenzo. The Carters were down. Erika was in double digits. Stephanie shook her head as she got up and looked down at herself, and at a reflection in some stray glass.
No. Absolutely not.
If she was getting out of this alive, she was getting out of this alive and looking her best.
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."
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Unlike past nights, Darlene barely slept. While she had discovered quickly enough that even terror became boring absent stimulus to periodically revive and prolong it, this time there were other factors to keep rest at bay. She found herself in the realm of imagination and fantasy, which was a familiar place but not an entirely friendly one.
Again and again, she imagined what perils might be befalling Jonah and Arizona as she and Max sat around in relative comfort. She wanted to do more. She wanted to search every house, to comb over them personally in case Max had missed something, even though she was pretty sure Max was way more meticulous and aware than she was and thus far more qualified to figure things out. It was just, not doing anything didn't feel good anymore. Darlene had been carried by a buoyant optimism the day before, but that had been due to her sureness that they were onto something, bolstered by a real oneness of purpose with Max. Now they were playing caretaker for a girl whose name Darlene had almost forgotten already!
That sounded meaner than she meant it, probably. It was just that there was a lot to do and a very big island out there and many bad things that could be happening at any given time.
Darlene smelled the fire, and saw the flames through half-lidded eyes, pretending to sleep as she waited for a figure to emerge silhouetted against the glow. None did. She thought she heard voices, feet running, but when she took a glance out the window the figures were too small to be her classmates. Monkeys. There were troops of monkeys roaming the streets, searching for food maybe or fighting their monkey wars. It was unsettling to Darlene, not because she was afraid of them, but because it meant there might not be too many people nearby. Animals usually didn't like doing their things when they knew they were being watched. How many human eyes were left to track their actions?
When morning broke, Darlene was huddled up in a corner of a bedroom, avoiding the dirty dusty bed because she'd tried to get on it but it had made her sneeze too much, sweater bunched into a knot of comparative softness to pad her head, dog hugged close and tight even though it was real hot even after dark. Her eyes were closed, but she had been mostly only pretending to be asleep, probably. In any event, as the words sounded from everywhere, she took them all in.
...half of them were gone. That was hard to wrap her head around but maybe not as hard as it would be for somebody who knew the class better and could conceptualize it by imaging each individual and then flipping a mental coin for them. Darlene visualized it like the hotel on the trip. Now, everyone got a bed of their own instead of having to share. That was how it should have been to begin with, right? It wasn't so bad?
At least she still didn't know the names really. Two girls had done the fire, which must have been what she'd seen overnight, and nobody had stumbled out because one had burned to death and the other had been executed. Some boy she didn't know had killed a few people in short succession and she couldn't remember if she'd heard his name before or not. Quinn had killed agai—
No, wait. Quinn was dead. Quinn was dead because she'd been killed by Arizona.
Darlene was on her feet in seconds. The rest wasn't important. They weren't in one of the zones that would make their collars explode, but that was sort of a shame because there was nothing external to force them towards the haste that Darlene felt in the deepest core of her being was required now. She carefully, gently put the dog back in her bag, its head still poking out, guarding her sweater now because she still wasn't going to wear it again. The gun, she kept for herself this time.
Stephanie seemed more cogent this morning as Darlene passed her; the girl seemed to be appraising herself in the shattered remains of a window. Good. That meant she was no longer helpless and therefore could be trusted to keep up and/or take care of herself on her own, without any need for them to stick around any longer than absolutely necessary.
Max was slumped, snoozing, snoring, and for just a moment Darlene was attacked by a pang of conscience. He'd been up tonight too. She knew. She'd heard him move around sometimes, had kept her vigil in tandem and thought that sometimes he'd held strong even when she'd drifted off. He needed—no, he deserved—this rest.
But there was no time.
"Um, Max, um," Darlene said, leaning in and very gently touching him on the shoulder, only to jerk her hand away again because she thought they were close enough by now to touch but she hadn't asked and he was sleeping and she didn't want to scare him and if someone touched her while she was sleeping she would hate it a lot but on the other hand she didn't think she was going to wake Max up with just her words alone, "um, I don't know if you heard but, but Arizona did something, she, they, I think..."
Darlene took a few deep breaths, though her eyes darted around like crazy behind the lenses of her glasses. She really needed to clean them. She'd slept in them and they were now just about as smudged as they'd ever been.
"I think we need to go look for them again," she said, with a firm nod. "We need to find them. Today."
Again and again, she imagined what perils might be befalling Jonah and Arizona as she and Max sat around in relative comfort. She wanted to do more. She wanted to search every house, to comb over them personally in case Max had missed something, even though she was pretty sure Max was way more meticulous and aware than she was and thus far more qualified to figure things out. It was just, not doing anything didn't feel good anymore. Darlene had been carried by a buoyant optimism the day before, but that had been due to her sureness that they were onto something, bolstered by a real oneness of purpose with Max. Now they were playing caretaker for a girl whose name Darlene had almost forgotten already!
That sounded meaner than she meant it, probably. It was just that there was a lot to do and a very big island out there and many bad things that could be happening at any given time.
Darlene smelled the fire, and saw the flames through half-lidded eyes, pretending to sleep as she waited for a figure to emerge silhouetted against the glow. None did. She thought she heard voices, feet running, but when she took a glance out the window the figures were too small to be her classmates. Monkeys. There were troops of monkeys roaming the streets, searching for food maybe or fighting their monkey wars. It was unsettling to Darlene, not because she was afraid of them, but because it meant there might not be too many people nearby. Animals usually didn't like doing their things when they knew they were being watched. How many human eyes were left to track their actions?
When morning broke, Darlene was huddled up in a corner of a bedroom, avoiding the dirty dusty bed because she'd tried to get on it but it had made her sneeze too much, sweater bunched into a knot of comparative softness to pad her head, dog hugged close and tight even though it was real hot even after dark. Her eyes were closed, but she had been mostly only pretending to be asleep, probably. In any event, as the words sounded from everywhere, she took them all in.
...half of them were gone. That was hard to wrap her head around but maybe not as hard as it would be for somebody who knew the class better and could conceptualize it by imaging each individual and then flipping a mental coin for them. Darlene visualized it like the hotel on the trip. Now, everyone got a bed of their own instead of having to share. That was how it should have been to begin with, right? It wasn't so bad?
At least she still didn't know the names really. Two girls had done the fire, which must have been what she'd seen overnight, and nobody had stumbled out because one had burned to death and the other had been executed. Some boy she didn't know had killed a few people in short succession and she couldn't remember if she'd heard his name before or not. Quinn had killed agai—
No, wait. Quinn was dead. Quinn was dead because she'd been killed by Arizona.
Darlene was on her feet in seconds. The rest wasn't important. They weren't in one of the zones that would make their collars explode, but that was sort of a shame because there was nothing external to force them towards the haste that Darlene felt in the deepest core of her being was required now. She carefully, gently put the dog back in her bag, its head still poking out, guarding her sweater now because she still wasn't going to wear it again. The gun, she kept for herself this time.
Stephanie seemed more cogent this morning as Darlene passed her; the girl seemed to be appraising herself in the shattered remains of a window. Good. That meant she was no longer helpless and therefore could be trusted to keep up and/or take care of herself on her own, without any need for them to stick around any longer than absolutely necessary.
Max was slumped, snoozing, snoring, and for just a moment Darlene was attacked by a pang of conscience. He'd been up tonight too. She knew. She'd heard him move around sometimes, had kept her vigil in tandem and thought that sometimes he'd held strong even when she'd drifted off. He needed—no, he deserved—this rest.
But there was no time.
"Um, Max, um," Darlene said, leaning in and very gently touching him on the shoulder, only to jerk her hand away again because she thought they were close enough by now to touch but she hadn't asked and he was sleeping and she didn't want to scare him and if someone touched her while she was sleeping she would hate it a lot but on the other hand she didn't think she was going to wake Max up with just her words alone, "um, I don't know if you heard but, but Arizona did something, she, they, I think..."
Darlene took a few deep breaths, though her eyes darted around like crazy behind the lenses of her glasses. She really needed to clean them. She'd slept in them and they were now just about as smudged as they'd ever been.
"I think we need to go look for them again," she said, with a firm nod. "We need to find them. Today."
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:18 am
- Location: Here And There Along The Echo
- Contact:
He was startled awake before he had a chance to dream. A touch, light and delicate, graced his shoulder, and he turned to face Darlene. Embarrassment flooded his face before he had a chance to hide himself. His position had been compromised, his role as guardian undermined by his own folly. He brought his hand up to his face and tugged on his cheek a little, trying to awaken himself enough to focus on the contents of Darlene's laconic speech. Arizona? Yes, he'd well heard of what she did, but he needed to communicate that, not simply think it.
"I've heard," Max said, nodding, "yes, I heard the announcements before I fell asleep, I'm sorry."
With a start, Max stood from the chair. He dusted off his pants and looked around the room. It looked as though he had only given in to slumber for just a few moments. It soothed his conscience and eased his guilty, gloomy thoughts to know that Darlene and Stephanie had not been without a protector for very long.
Darlene looked eerily confident in her proclamation of intent. Max gazed at her for a moment.
Finding Arizona and Jonah had been their goal for the last few days, and they'd been fruitless. He'd just heard that Arizona and Jonah were succeeding in their goal of continued existence and prolonged survival. There was a new ward under his care, one who was traumatized and needed protection. Was going to find them the best overall move, going forward? There was strength to be found in numbers, to be sure, but there was also attention to be drawn. Introducing Stephanie to people who had murdered, while Max was absolutely sure Arizona did it for good reasons, might not be the best for her mental health.
He was at a crossroads, then.
"Is Stephanie awake?" he asked, looking over Darlene's shoulder, "How's she holding up?"
"I've heard," Max said, nodding, "yes, I heard the announcements before I fell asleep, I'm sorry."
With a start, Max stood from the chair. He dusted off his pants and looked around the room. It looked as though he had only given in to slumber for just a few moments. It soothed his conscience and eased his guilty, gloomy thoughts to know that Darlene and Stephanie had not been without a protector for very long.
Darlene looked eerily confident in her proclamation of intent. Max gazed at her for a moment.
Finding Arizona and Jonah had been their goal for the last few days, and they'd been fruitless. He'd just heard that Arizona and Jonah were succeeding in their goal of continued existence and prolonged survival. There was a new ward under his care, one who was traumatized and needed protection. Was going to find them the best overall move, going forward? There was strength to be found in numbers, to be sure, but there was also attention to be drawn. Introducing Stephanie to people who had murdered, while Max was absolutely sure Arizona did it for good reasons, might not be the best for her mental health.
He was at a crossroads, then.
"Is Stephanie awake?" he asked, looking over Darlene's shoulder, "How's she holding up?"
Stephanie looked at her nails. Needed a new coat. Then she went about inspecting her face in the compact mirror she had fished out of her bag. Complete wreck. It was going to have to start over. Her hair was in similarly bad shape, but much less could be done with that without a source of electricity. She then pointed it down to her
Bollocks to that.
Lost cause. Total revamp required. Stephanie shut the door as she stripped off her week-old clothing, which only now did she realize was not just dirty, but smelled like the inside of a loo. She dug through her makeup bag to get the wipes and get the gunk formerly known as her face off.
Step 1: Moisturize with beauty balm cream. Wait ten minutes to allow the skin to properly absorb. She unfortunately had to skip the face wash because she was sure that there would be someone on the other side of the door.
Step 2: Foundation. 10NN. Apply using a stippling motion.
Step 3: Pluck and shape the eyebrows. Stephanie winced at this - normally she did this after a shower, but any water that she'd shower in now was probably lukewarm and dirty.
Step 4: Eye shadow to properly contour the face. Extragalactic.
Step 5: Eyeliner. Roxy. Tight lining the eyes.
Step 6: Mascara to enhance the eyelashes. Perversion.
Step 7: Lipstick, carefully applied so as not to completely cake the lips, but just enough to enhance her lips.
Step 8: Nails. Remove the old coat with nail polish remover, properly file. Push back cuticles properly, apply base coat, and let dry. Then apply two coats of Big Spender and let dry.
As she blew on her nails, she thought What to wear? She had so much to choose from. A "quick" look through her bag got her down to a good ensemble - blue tank top, no sleeves, white tiered miniskirt, and a set of black heeled sandals. Lastly, after she got the top on, she ran a brush through her hair, trying to get as much of the good definition back, although that was done more out of tradition than any real expectation of success.
As she shook her head one last time, she looked in her mirror and smirked before getting up and opening the door.
Ready or not, I'm back.
((Stephanie McDonald continued in Mad As Hell and Not Going to Take It Anymore))
Bollocks to that.
Lost cause. Total revamp required. Stephanie shut the door as she stripped off her week-old clothing, which only now did she realize was not just dirty, but smelled like the inside of a loo. She dug through her makeup bag to get the wipes and get the gunk formerly known as her face off.
Step 1: Moisturize with beauty balm cream. Wait ten minutes to allow the skin to properly absorb. She unfortunately had to skip the face wash because she was sure that there would be someone on the other side of the door.
Step 2: Foundation. 10NN. Apply using a stippling motion.
Step 3: Pluck and shape the eyebrows. Stephanie winced at this - normally she did this after a shower, but any water that she'd shower in now was probably lukewarm and dirty.
Step 4: Eye shadow to properly contour the face. Extragalactic.
Step 5: Eyeliner. Roxy. Tight lining the eyes.
Step 6: Mascara to enhance the eyelashes. Perversion.
Step 7: Lipstick, carefully applied so as not to completely cake the lips, but just enough to enhance her lips.
Step 8: Nails. Remove the old coat with nail polish remover, properly file. Push back cuticles properly, apply base coat, and let dry. Then apply two coats of Big Spender and let dry.
As she blew on her nails, she thought What to wear? She had so much to choose from. A "quick" look through her bag got her down to a good ensemble - blue tank top, no sleeves, white tiered miniskirt, and a set of black heeled sandals. Lastly, after she got the top on, she ran a brush through her hair, trying to get as much of the good definition back, although that was done more out of tradition than any real expectation of success.
As she shook her head one last time, she looked in her mirror and smirked before getting up and opening the door.
Ready or not, I'm back.
((Stephanie McDonald continued in Mad As Hell and Not Going to Take It Anymore))
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."
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
"She is," Darlene said, replying to the first part of Max's question too quickly because really what she ideally needed was a few moments to stall while she came up with a response to the second part.
How was Stephanie holding up? Darlene didn't have a clue! She was sort of trying not to talk to the girl a whole bunch, in part because she got this sort of weird bad feeling from her, and in part because she just couldn't think of anything to talk about and Stephanie didn't seem that chatty anyways. Darlene had already forgotten the name of the dead girl who Stephanie had been so upset about, which would make it especially uncomfortable to try to be emotionally supportive. She was letting the girl have space. That was what was best for grief, right? Sometimes?
A few seconds passed before Darlene put together an answer. She hoped Max was too busy waking up to realize.
"I think she's okay," she said.
A few more seconds as she considered and sort of quietly congratulated herself for that. It wasn't a particularly firm answer, left a lot of wiggle room for different degrees of "okay," and in the worst case scenario there was the "I think" there to cover it all up, because Darlene wasn't a perfect judge of character. If Stephanie fell over and lay one her side on the ground and wouldn't move, or if she ran away or attacked them or something, then it would just mean Darlene had been wrong! That was okay and fairly normal.
She hoped that wouldn't happen. Stephanie had been looking at the broken glass pretty intently when Darlene went by, which was with maybe three minutes' worth of retrospect possibly not a good sign? But if she was going to do anything, she'd had time to do it already. Would it be better to walk in while it was going on or afterwards? Or, or...
This was absolutely not what Darlene wanted to be thinking about or spending her energy on because they had to go find Jonah and Arizona. This was precisely the sort of thing she'd been worried about when they settled down to watch over Stephanie or whatever they were doing—well, not the idea that maybe she'd cut herself up if left alone, but that she'd be a distraction from the more important things.
Darlene decided she was just being dramatic and scared for no reason. It would be better not to worry Max.
"I think she was getting dressed," she said. "And, um, and it's okay you slept. It's good. I was awake for a bit and you need rest too.
"...want to have breakfast before we go?"
Cracker sandwiches were by now a distant memory. Darlene pined for them. Every meal now was just the same chalky, dull, gritty ration bars. They stuck to the roof of her mouth and the little pocket between her teeth and her cheek like peanut butter, but nowhere near as tasty and even more difficult to fish the pasty bits out with her fingertips. It wasn't that the bars were absolutely gross or anything, just Darlene had always looked forward to meals but now they were just there, a necessity that left her vaguely unfulfilled and dissatisfied.
Quite a bit of time passed without Stephanie, which at least meant Darlene didn't actually get bored. She spent the time trying to will herself to be appropriately surprised when they finally went to check and found the girl lying in a pool of blood, but the more she tried to prepare the more guilty she felt. Maybe they should go look now? Maybe they weren't too late!
Then Stephanie showed up, just fine. More than fine, really; she looked like she had at school, that same casual prettiness that made Darlene just a tiny bit jealous, like she was ready to spend the day looking at museums back in DC. It wasn't right and it didn't fit and Darlene chewed her last bite an extra ten or so times but just waved. She didn't point the gun or anything, or whisper to Max or the dog. But she watched.
When everything was sorted and the time came to depart, she kept watching, occasional looks when she thought they might pass unobserved. She tired not to glare, really! But still she kept darting sidelong eyes at Stephanie, through the dirty smudged lenses of her glasses.
((Darlene Silva continued in Mad As Hell and Not Going to Take It Anymore))
How was Stephanie holding up? Darlene didn't have a clue! She was sort of trying not to talk to the girl a whole bunch, in part because she got this sort of weird bad feeling from her, and in part because she just couldn't think of anything to talk about and Stephanie didn't seem that chatty anyways. Darlene had already forgotten the name of the dead girl who Stephanie had been so upset about, which would make it especially uncomfortable to try to be emotionally supportive. She was letting the girl have space. That was what was best for grief, right? Sometimes?
A few seconds passed before Darlene put together an answer. She hoped Max was too busy waking up to realize.
"I think she's okay," she said.
A few more seconds as she considered and sort of quietly congratulated herself for that. It wasn't a particularly firm answer, left a lot of wiggle room for different degrees of "okay," and in the worst case scenario there was the "I think" there to cover it all up, because Darlene wasn't a perfect judge of character. If Stephanie fell over and lay one her side on the ground and wouldn't move, or if she ran away or attacked them or something, then it would just mean Darlene had been wrong! That was okay and fairly normal.
She hoped that wouldn't happen. Stephanie had been looking at the broken glass pretty intently when Darlene went by, which was with maybe three minutes' worth of retrospect possibly not a good sign? But if she was going to do anything, she'd had time to do it already. Would it be better to walk in while it was going on or afterwards? Or, or...
This was absolutely not what Darlene wanted to be thinking about or spending her energy on because they had to go find Jonah and Arizona. This was precisely the sort of thing she'd been worried about when they settled down to watch over Stephanie or whatever they were doing—well, not the idea that maybe she'd cut herself up if left alone, but that she'd be a distraction from the more important things.
Darlene decided she was just being dramatic and scared for no reason. It would be better not to worry Max.
"I think she was getting dressed," she said. "And, um, and it's okay you slept. It's good. I was awake for a bit and you need rest too.
"...want to have breakfast before we go?"
Cracker sandwiches were by now a distant memory. Darlene pined for them. Every meal now was just the same chalky, dull, gritty ration bars. They stuck to the roof of her mouth and the little pocket between her teeth and her cheek like peanut butter, but nowhere near as tasty and even more difficult to fish the pasty bits out with her fingertips. It wasn't that the bars were absolutely gross or anything, just Darlene had always looked forward to meals but now they were just there, a necessity that left her vaguely unfulfilled and dissatisfied.
Quite a bit of time passed without Stephanie, which at least meant Darlene didn't actually get bored. She spent the time trying to will herself to be appropriately surprised when they finally went to check and found the girl lying in a pool of blood, but the more she tried to prepare the more guilty she felt. Maybe they should go look now? Maybe they weren't too late!
Then Stephanie showed up, just fine. More than fine, really; she looked like she had at school, that same casual prettiness that made Darlene just a tiny bit jealous, like she was ready to spend the day looking at museums back in DC. It wasn't right and it didn't fit and Darlene chewed her last bite an extra ten or so times but just waved. She didn't point the gun or anything, or whisper to Max or the dog. But she watched.
When everything was sorted and the time came to depart, she kept watching, occasional looks when she thought they might pass unobserved. She tired not to glare, really! But still she kept darting sidelong eyes at Stephanie, through the dirty smudged lenses of her glasses.
((Darlene Silva continued in Mad As Hell and Not Going to Take It Anymore))
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:18 am
- Location: Here And There Along The Echo
- Contact:
Stephanie was okay. To the furthest extreme, Max could take that to mean that his presiding over her livelihood was no longer necessary, that she had rehabilitated herself to the picture of mental health, but that much was unlikely. What Darlene likely meant was that she was functional, or at the very lowest assertion that she was no longer dysfunctional. Whatever the intended information behind Darlene's words, Max took comfort in them. He could afford to worry himself less about that matter, and more on the present case of locating Jonah and Arizona.
It was with this behind him that Max accepted Darlene's invitation to breakfast. They ate alone together while Stephanie took her time in the bathroom putting herself together. To keep himself from expressing any sort of impatience about her state, Max recalled memories of his father whinging about how long his mother took to get ready while they waited in the car before vacation trips or road journeys. That was certainly a kind of person he was loathe to become. If Max could have but one ability, and only that particular ability for the rest of his living existence, that would be patience. If he was allowed a second, then that would be the ability to empathize with other human beings. A monk on a mountaintop—an argument he agreed with, and a life he felt he could live somewhat well.
Once Stephanie re-appeared, it was time to depart. Max took up the man-catcher once more and slung his ever-lightening day-pack on his shoulder, and they were ready to continue their journey. The woods to the north seemed a prime opportunity to get lost, and they had already spent a surplus amount of time in the southern half of the island (plus, given his recently resurfaced memories, he was less than enthusiastic to go back to the rice paddies), so Max made the decision that the group would travel westward to the waterfall. As the tallest landmark on the island, it was not unreasonable to think that Jonah and Arizona had made their way there with the intention of making some kind of signal.
Max remembered what he heard on the announcements, then. With all he had to think of reasonable and rational actions, the sovereignty of his classmates, it seemed that everything come to encounter in the last week had attempted, fruitfully, to undermine it. The good faith he convinced himself to have had eroded over time, and though he had found some initial difficulty in swallowing that bitter pill, it was a peace that filled him once he did. It was alright. Expectations and hope were a foolish thing to have beyond wishes for continued survival.
In spite of himself, he had hope—no, he was confident that he would find Jonah and Arizona. For all he knew, they could be right around the corner, just waiting for him to stumble upon them.
Finding them would be the luckiest thing that had happened to him all week.
[Max Rudolph continued in Mad As Hell and Not Going to Take It Anymore.]
It was with this behind him that Max accepted Darlene's invitation to breakfast. They ate alone together while Stephanie took her time in the bathroom putting herself together. To keep himself from expressing any sort of impatience about her state, Max recalled memories of his father whinging about how long his mother took to get ready while they waited in the car before vacation trips or road journeys. That was certainly a kind of person he was loathe to become. If Max could have but one ability, and only that particular ability for the rest of his living existence, that would be patience. If he was allowed a second, then that would be the ability to empathize with other human beings. A monk on a mountaintop—an argument he agreed with, and a life he felt he could live somewhat well.
Once Stephanie re-appeared, it was time to depart. Max took up the man-catcher once more and slung his ever-lightening day-pack on his shoulder, and they were ready to continue their journey. The woods to the north seemed a prime opportunity to get lost, and they had already spent a surplus amount of time in the southern half of the island (plus, given his recently resurfaced memories, he was less than enthusiastic to go back to the rice paddies), so Max made the decision that the group would travel westward to the waterfall. As the tallest landmark on the island, it was not unreasonable to think that Jonah and Arizona had made their way there with the intention of making some kind of signal.
Max remembered what he heard on the announcements, then. With all he had to think of reasonable and rational actions, the sovereignty of his classmates, it seemed that everything come to encounter in the last week had attempted, fruitfully, to undermine it. The good faith he convinced himself to have had eroded over time, and though he had found some initial difficulty in swallowing that bitter pill, it was a peace that filled him once he did. It was alright. Expectations and hope were a foolish thing to have beyond wishes for continued survival.
In spite of himself, he had hope—no, he was confident that he would find Jonah and Arizona. For all he knew, they could be right around the corner, just waiting for him to stumble upon them.
Finding them would be the luckiest thing that had happened to him all week.
[Max Rudolph continued in Mad As Hell and Not Going to Take It Anymore.]
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