Oh. So this was all for her. An act of charity from St. Jeremy, hunting down his big bad crazy ex to try and make nice with her. Wasn't that real convenient for him.
The gun started to lower just barely as she shut her eyes and shook her head slowly. They flashed open to stare into his in time with the sound of the gunshot.
There wasn't any waiting around to see if he lived. It wasn't like she'd tried to kill him, it was just a blind angry shot because he wouldn't stop pushing her. She already turning heel to get the fuck out of here so she didn't have to face what she'd done, but...would it be so bad if he died? Wouldn't he deserve it? Couldn't anyone really blame her for that? Yeah. That made sense. He antagonized her, and she put him in his place. That's how things were supposed to work. As she left she called out over her shoulder.
"Y'know, I think that really helped. Thanks, Jerebear~"
She hoped the smug little prick bled to death.
She hoped his parents saw the whole thing.
((Caedyn Miller Continued In Takao))
Love Runs Out
'I got my mind made up and I can't let go.' (private)
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Emprexx Plush
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For a moment, he thought that he'd had her.
For a moment, Jeremy thought he'd figured out his way out of this room.
He'd figured - right then - that she wouldn't do it. That with the opportunity she had of killing him she'd flake at the last moment. Prove that she was better by not shooting him when he was acting like he wanted her to. Maybe even try to do some of that cassowary shit she seemed to like doing a lot. She'd leave the suicidal guy be. Wouldn't take his bait. Would let him wallow in his own self pity or failure or whatever. His first sentence was a part of that. He wanted to piss her off. Make her angry. Say something so stupid it looked like he wanted her to kill him. Make it look like he was baiting her. Have her take the bait. Have her think she's better, not stoop so low as to take him out, then he'd be free to leave. Simple as that.
That was the plan. That was his ticket out of this room.
And maybe he knew that she was right.
And maybe he knew that he wasn't the one in the right, back then.
It didn't matter though. Not right now.
Because right now, he was seeing that clear path from A to B, and he couldn't let anything get in his way.
Well.
He'd thought he'd seen it, anyway.
There was a brief moment of recognition as she'd opened her eyes.
One brief moment where Jeremy knew that he'd failed.
He'd smiled. Attempted to laugh.
"You little bi-"
There was an explosion and a smash as the bullet went through his chest, hitting and shattering the window behind it.
There was a brief moment of realisation, as Caedyn turned away from him.
And then there was no response, as the body hit the floor.
For a moment, Jeremy thought he'd figured out his way out of this room.
He'd figured - right then - that she wouldn't do it. That with the opportunity she had of killing him she'd flake at the last moment. Prove that she was better by not shooting him when he was acting like he wanted her to. Maybe even try to do some of that cassowary shit she seemed to like doing a lot. She'd leave the suicidal guy be. Wouldn't take his bait. Would let him wallow in his own self pity or failure or whatever. His first sentence was a part of that. He wanted to piss her off. Make her angry. Say something so stupid it looked like he wanted her to kill him. Make it look like he was baiting her. Have her take the bait. Have her think she's better, not stoop so low as to take him out, then he'd be free to leave. Simple as that.
That was the plan. That was his ticket out of this room.
And maybe he knew that she was right.
And maybe he knew that he wasn't the one in the right, back then.
It didn't matter though. Not right now.
Because right now, he was seeing that clear path from A to B, and he couldn't let anything get in his way.
Well.
He'd thought he'd seen it, anyway.
There was a brief moment of recognition as she'd opened her eyes.
One brief moment where Jeremy knew that he'd failed.
He'd smiled. Attempted to laugh.
"You little bi-"
There was an explosion and a smash as the bullet went through his chest, hitting and shattering the window behind it.
There was a brief moment of realisation, as Caedyn turned away from him.
And then there was no response, as the body hit the floor.
[[Fiyori Senay, continued from Cast in the Name of God]]
There was a gunshot ringing out nearby.
Fiyori froze and pressed herself hard against the wall. She focused on what her ears perceived, and she thought to hear footsteps slowly fading into the distance. Her mind, having acknowledged this aural input, warned Fiyori of the obvious danger she just ran into. However, what her senses were telling was a different matter.
There was no tension in the air. No, it was more like witnessing the strike of a lightning bolt on a clear spring day. A violent oddity and yet not a source of danger to Fiyori. So she ventured further.
She entered the room where she assumed the gunshot have occurred. Fiyori realized it wasn't the brightest idea, a poor choice of action from a tactical point of view. But curiosity, again, got the better of her.
Fiyori considered a good sign she didn't die the moment she passed the threshold. She gave the room a quick look-over. The body barely hiding behind the deck was the first thing she noted. It took her two seconds further and two steps farther to realize the body was still breathing. Barely breathing, but still breathing.
With the next step, she knew whose body it was.
"...Jeremy?"
There was a gunshot ringing out nearby.
Fiyori froze and pressed herself hard against the wall. She focused on what her ears perceived, and she thought to hear footsteps slowly fading into the distance. Her mind, having acknowledged this aural input, warned Fiyori of the obvious danger she just ran into. However, what her senses were telling was a different matter.
There was no tension in the air. No, it was more like witnessing the strike of a lightning bolt on a clear spring day. A violent oddity and yet not a source of danger to Fiyori. So she ventured further.
She entered the room where she assumed the gunshot have occurred. Fiyori realized it wasn't the brightest idea, a poor choice of action from a tactical point of view. But curiosity, again, got the better of her.
Fiyori considered a good sign she didn't die the moment she passed the threshold. She gave the room a quick look-over. The body barely hiding behind the deck was the first thing she noted. It took her two seconds further and two steps farther to realize the body was still breathing. Barely breathing, but still breathing.
With the next step, she knew whose body it was.
"...Jeremy?"
Gervais Frans Lambotte 
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Yugikun
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Pain.
Dull. Sharp. Coarsing. Raging. Spreading. Just painful beyond all belief and beyond all comprehension and there was barely anything that he could do to fight it and there were barely any words that he could use to describe it and he was laying. Here. Behind a desk. Dying in unimaginable pain and unable to do anything about it because every breath felt like a steel trap closing on his lungs impaling them making sure every bit of pain and misery and fear came to the forefront and making sure every movement he made on this floor was as weak and as pointless as it possibly could be and making sure that he couldn't do anything about this. Nothing. Nothing except the pain and the fear and the spreading warmth of his blood and the encroaching cold of his death and it hurt it hurt and he couldn't think of anything else other than that.
Because he knew he was going to die here.
He knew that everything he had said about himself, the thing that he'd said would happen since the moment he woke up here was beginning to come true.
And he knew that he wasn't going to achieve anything now. The list. Everything he wanted to do before the inevitable happened and everything that he had sacrificed in order to try and achieve it was pointless now. He'd said the wrong thing and now he was flailing about on the floor knowing that he was going to die any moment now.
He knew that.
But he couldn't think about it.
Because the pain was coursing through his body. Raging. Spreading. Dull. Sharp.
And there was nothing here able to dull it.
There was nothing here that could make him forget.
Jeremy Frasier was going to die on this island, and he couldn't think about anything other than that simple, plain fact.
He hadn't heard the footsteps. He hadn't heard her voice. All he knew and all he could see was the familiar shape standing above him.
Was it her?
He didn't know.
He had to figure it out. He had to say something. Make sure.
"Fi-"
And the trap closed and the pain coursed through his body and he couldn't even scream and he couldn't even breathe and
Dull. Sharp. Coarsing. Raging. Spreading. Just painful beyond all belief and beyond all comprehension and there was barely anything that he could do to fight it and there were barely any words that he could use to describe it and he was laying. Here. Behind a desk. Dying in unimaginable pain and unable to do anything about it because every breath felt like a steel trap closing on his lungs impaling them making sure every bit of pain and misery and fear came to the forefront and making sure every movement he made on this floor was as weak and as pointless as it possibly could be and making sure that he couldn't do anything about this. Nothing. Nothing except the pain and the fear and the spreading warmth of his blood and the encroaching cold of his death and it hurt it hurt and he couldn't think of anything else other than that.
Because he knew he was going to die here.
He knew that everything he had said about himself, the thing that he'd said would happen since the moment he woke up here was beginning to come true.
And he knew that he wasn't going to achieve anything now. The list. Everything he wanted to do before the inevitable happened and everything that he had sacrificed in order to try and achieve it was pointless now. He'd said the wrong thing and now he was flailing about on the floor knowing that he was going to die any moment now.
He knew that.
But he couldn't think about it.
Because the pain was coursing through his body. Raging. Spreading. Dull. Sharp.
And there was nothing here able to dull it.
There was nothing here that could make him forget.
Jeremy Frasier was going to die on this island, and he couldn't think about anything other than that simple, plain fact.
He hadn't heard the footsteps. He hadn't heard her voice. All he knew and all he could see was the familiar shape standing above him.
Was it her?
He didn't know.
He had to figure it out. He had to say something. Make sure.
"Fi-"
And the trap closed and the pain coursed through his body and he couldn't even scream and he couldn't even breathe and
he would not die alone.
Fiyori stepped to his side, and kneeled besides him. She gave his body a look-over, and she could see clearly. Blood seeped through his clothing, it's flow originating from a hole in his chest. Fiyori wasn't a doctor, or had any experience with medical expertise, but even she knew. There was no way for her to fix a torn lung.
With horror, she realized, that there was nothing for her to do.
...no, that wasn't the truth either. She looked around the room, and spotted a bag sitting on the desk nearby. Fiyori presumed it to be Jeremy's bag and without hesitations did she pull out a bottle of water.
Fiyori opened the bottle. Then, with one hand she took her the edge of the poncho and wiped away the spit and blood from Jeremy's lips. Then she took his head, lifted it from the ground and guided the bottle to his lips.
Fiyori stepped to his side, and kneeled besides him. She gave his body a look-over, and she could see clearly. Blood seeped through his clothing, it's flow originating from a hole in his chest. Fiyori wasn't a doctor, or had any experience with medical expertise, but even she knew. There was no way for her to fix a torn lung.
With horror, she realized, that there was nothing for her to do.
...no, that wasn't the truth either. She looked around the room, and spotted a bag sitting on the desk nearby. Fiyori presumed it to be Jeremy's bag and without hesitations did she pull out a bottle of water.
Fiyori opened the bottle. Then, with one hand she took her the edge of the poncho and wiped away the spit and blood from Jeremy's lips. Then she took his head, lifted it from the ground and guided the bottle to his lips.
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Yugikun
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The water went down his throat. It felt clear. Clean. Pure. For a moment, the metallic feeling that filled his throat vanished, it was like normal again.
And then the water got caught and then he couldn't breathe and he coughed and he sputtered and then the blood the metallic feeling came back filled his throat made it so that he couldn't breathe made it so that he had to cough. Again and again. The sound was off. The noise coming from his cough didn't sound right. It was heavy it was deep and it hurt it wheezed it clenched down on his lungs crushed them squeezed out and it hurt it hurt the pain came back it was warm it was cold and it was sharp and it hurt it hurt he had to try he had to focus he had to block it out if he even wanted to focus on anything else because it was there it was rising it was all-encompassing and he could barely think of anything else other than that fact.
But he had to.
He had to think.
He had to block out the pain.
Because it was her. It was Fiyori, kneeling down above him. Moving his head up.
He was dying.
He knew that.
But it was her.
He finally found somebody.
He had to say it.
He had to do it, before it was too late.
"I-"
And then the coughs came back.
And then the metallic feeling came back. Controlled his throat, again.
And then there was nothing more coming from his mouth.
And then the water got caught and then he couldn't breathe and he coughed and he sputtered and then the blood the metallic feeling came back filled his throat made it so that he couldn't breathe made it so that he had to cough. Again and again. The sound was off. The noise coming from his cough didn't sound right. It was heavy it was deep and it hurt it wheezed it clenched down on his lungs crushed them squeezed out and it hurt it hurt the pain came back it was warm it was cold and it was sharp and it hurt it hurt he had to try he had to focus he had to block it out if he even wanted to focus on anything else because it was there it was rising it was all-encompassing and he could barely think of anything else other than that fact.
But he had to.
He had to think.
He had to block out the pain.
Because it was her. It was Fiyori, kneeling down above him. Moving his head up.
He was dying.
He knew that.
But it was her.
He finally found somebody.
He had to say it.
He had to do it, before it was too late.
"I-"
And then the coughs came back.
And then the metallic feeling came back. Controlled his throat, again.
And then there was nothing more coming from his mouth.
Fiyori felt Jeremy's hair, drenched in sweat and the dust of days. She could feel his head bobbing and moving so slightly, and then with a violent might as Jeremy coughed.
She tossed the water bottle to the side. It rolled on the floor until it hit the leg of the desk.
There they were. Fiyori and her dying friend. It might have been odd to use that word to describe Jeremy. They weren't close, they didn't do much together, but something has bound them together. Something strong. Something that made Fiyori call him her friend.
Fiyori moved closer. She was careful in her motions, and shifted her own body so that she could rest Jeremy's head on her chest. Her hand met his. He tried to say something.
"Don't talk now. None of it matters anymore. Just..." She grasped his hand more firmly. She didn't know what to say.
She tossed the water bottle to the side. It rolled on the floor until it hit the leg of the desk.
There they were. Fiyori and her dying friend. It might have been odd to use that word to describe Jeremy. They weren't close, they didn't do much together, but something has bound them together. Something strong. Something that made Fiyori call him her friend.
Fiyori moved closer. She was careful in her motions, and shifted her own body so that she could rest Jeremy's head on her chest. Her hand met his. He tried to say something.
"Don't talk now. None of it matters anymore. Just..." She grasped his hand more firmly. She didn't know what to say.
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Yugikun
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She didn't know what to say.
He did.
Because there wasn't a choice in the matter. There wasn't anything else he could do. He had to talk. It really did matter. The pain was fading out of his body and he could only feel the cold now and he knew he was dying in her arms. No. He had to talk. He had to do something. He knew this moment had been coming from the moment he'd woken up on this island and he'd been spending every waking moment here just trying to prepare for it but he wasn't ready. He didn't want to go. Not here, not now. There were still things he had to do. People he had to see. There was a world out there of people fighting and dying and he knew that there were people he knew out there but he couldn't do anything about it. He was in here. Unable to do anything more.
So no.
He had to talk.
They were his final words.
He had to make them count.
"No, I-"
Because there was Emma. She was out there. She was somewhere on this island. She was his friend. One of his closest ones. They'd talked. They'd worked together. They had fun. Maybe he did occasionally say weird shit to her, maybe he did tend to creep her out every now and again, but it didn't matter. She'd never minded that. Maybe she even found it funny, occasionally. It was a natural part of him. It was a natural part of them being friends. It was why he had to find her. He had to be there. She was hurting. He knew that. So he had to make her smile. He had to make her feel better. He had to at least try. If he didn't, then he couldn't call himself her friend, right?
And there was Serena. She was out there, too. Somewhere on this island, fighting and dying and doing who knows what. She was also his friend. A close one. She was that shy girl who never seemed to talk to anyone else but talked to him that one day he was third violin and who kept talking to him afterwards. She'd gotten him into Survivor. She'd made sure he'd become obsessed with it and she'd made sure that he'd always have something to talk about whenever he was with her. He knew that she didn't have many other friends, so he'd made sure to always keep her company. And that was what he had to do here. Find her. Protect her. Keep her company. If he let her die alone, then that meant he failed. No ifs or buts about it.
And there was Al. He was also out there. On the island. The newest challenger to take up the game, apparently. He was quiet, back then. Having a conversation always seemed to be a little more difficult with him than it was with others. The effort had paid off, though. Because they were friends. Good ones. They could talk about anything and it'd be entertaining enough for Jeremy to want to continue on with it. And he could talk. He knew that. He could talk Al down, just like he'd done with Alex. Al had killed three people. Jeremy wanted to know why. Once he did he'd know what to say. He'd know how to calm him down. Maybe Al would have been a threat. Maybe he was going to be someone Jeremy had to put down, but he sure as hell wasn't going to do that without trying first.
Then there was Alex. He wasn't here anymore. He wasn't on this island. He honestly wasn't even really a friend, either. Not before this. Jeremy had only really recognised him as a face. Not until he'd killed. Not until Jeremy had met him. Not until he'd taught Jeremy something far more important than anything else he'd been told on this island. He'd taught Jeremy to not take things at face value. He'd taught Jeremy to listen first before making a judgement. He'd taught Jeremy that the people who killed weren't the monsters, it was those who were weak. The ones who had fallen into the game so easily. The ones who so easily called others monsters for things they were considering doing. Even if Alex was dead, even if he couldn't act upon his deal anymore, he still had to live. He still had to be strong. He still had to be better than those beneath him.
"I-"
The syllable choked itself out of his throat. His hand clutched. Scratched. Tore at the hand of Fiyori's he was holding on to. Maybe it hurt her. Maybe he shouldn't do that, but he wouldn't stop. He didn't notice.
Because there was Ben. He wasn't here anymore. He was probably on that roof, his carcass serving as food for the vultures or the birds or whatever was up there. Because hey, look, Jeremy had done it. He hadn't killed anyone else. You'd challenged him and blustered yourself up and put Jeremy through tooth and nail just to prove your goddamn point and you succeeded. Maybe he hadn't been able to give the bag back, maybe he hadn't been able to find Penelope, but at least he died in pain and fear on this floor before he'd been able to do anything about his goals. You happy about that? You happy that he failed in doing most of the stuff he wanted to make sure he did?
Because guess what? That wasn't entirely because of you. Because there was Josh. Because there was Jasmine. Josh was a friend. A close one. One of the kindest people he'd met and one of the easiest people he'd been with to get along with. And he was dead. Killed on the very first day by Caedyn's fucking bitch before Jeremy even had a chance to find him. Even then, he'd wanted to do something about that. Find his corpse. Find Jasmine. Figure out why it happened. Give his last regards. It wasn't much, it wouldn't have compared to being able to see him in person, but it would have made him happy. He would have been okay with doing that.
But he couldn't now.
Because he was in this room, in Fiyori's arms. Dying. The cold was spreading and his sight was weakening and he knew that he wasn't leaving this room alive. He'd been saying it since moment one.
Jeremy Frasier, 0% chance of winning this game.
Jeremy Frasier, 0% chance of doing anything he wanted to do before his time came.
Well, no, actually.
There was a chance.
Because there was Fiyori. She was here. Holding his body. Putting him close to her. She was... a friend. Maybe an acquaintance. He still wasn't quite sure. Maybe there was a point where she'd annoyed him. Maybe she did blame him for something he didn't do. Maybe she did bring up bad memories. She was still fun though. Friendly. Gave him food, that one time. Gave him company, for a brief moment. He wanted to say sorry, about that. About leaving. He'd gotten angry and he'd raged his way out and he'd never been able to talk with her, after that. So he wanted to say sorry. He wanted to make sure that got out. Even if he was dying here, even if he wasn't going to be able to achieve anything that he wanted to, he could still do that, right?
So no.
It did matter.
He had to say something.
They were his final words.
He had to make them count.
No regrets.
Right?
...
He looked up. Into her eyes. Brought the syllable out of his mouth.
"I'm-"
The metallic feeling filled his throat. The syllable could only barely choke itself out. He tried bringing another.
...
He'd kept his head up, for a few seconds.
And then the world never saw his face again.
He did.
Because there wasn't a choice in the matter. There wasn't anything else he could do. He had to talk. It really did matter. The pain was fading out of his body and he could only feel the cold now and he knew he was dying in her arms. No. He had to talk. He had to do something. He knew this moment had been coming from the moment he'd woken up on this island and he'd been spending every waking moment here just trying to prepare for it but he wasn't ready. He didn't want to go. Not here, not now. There were still things he had to do. People he had to see. There was a world out there of people fighting and dying and he knew that there were people he knew out there but he couldn't do anything about it. He was in here. Unable to do anything more.
So no.
He had to talk.
They were his final words.
He had to make them count.
"No, I-"
Because there was Emma. She was out there. She was somewhere on this island. She was his friend. One of his closest ones. They'd talked. They'd worked together. They had fun. Maybe he did occasionally say weird shit to her, maybe he did tend to creep her out every now and again, but it didn't matter. She'd never minded that. Maybe she even found it funny, occasionally. It was a natural part of him. It was a natural part of them being friends. It was why he had to find her. He had to be there. She was hurting. He knew that. So he had to make her smile. He had to make her feel better. He had to at least try. If he didn't, then he couldn't call himself her friend, right?
And there was Serena. She was out there, too. Somewhere on this island, fighting and dying and doing who knows what. She was also his friend. A close one. She was that shy girl who never seemed to talk to anyone else but talked to him that one day he was third violin and who kept talking to him afterwards. She'd gotten him into Survivor. She'd made sure he'd become obsessed with it and she'd made sure that he'd always have something to talk about whenever he was with her. He knew that she didn't have many other friends, so he'd made sure to always keep her company. And that was what he had to do here. Find her. Protect her. Keep her company. If he let her die alone, then that meant he failed. No ifs or buts about it.
And there was Al. He was also out there. On the island. The newest challenger to take up the game, apparently. He was quiet, back then. Having a conversation always seemed to be a little more difficult with him than it was with others. The effort had paid off, though. Because they were friends. Good ones. They could talk about anything and it'd be entertaining enough for Jeremy to want to continue on with it. And he could talk. He knew that. He could talk Al down, just like he'd done with Alex. Al had killed three people. Jeremy wanted to know why. Once he did he'd know what to say. He'd know how to calm him down. Maybe Al would have been a threat. Maybe he was going to be someone Jeremy had to put down, but he sure as hell wasn't going to do that without trying first.
Then there was Alex. He wasn't here anymore. He wasn't on this island. He honestly wasn't even really a friend, either. Not before this. Jeremy had only really recognised him as a face. Not until he'd killed. Not until Jeremy had met him. Not until he'd taught Jeremy something far more important than anything else he'd been told on this island. He'd taught Jeremy to not take things at face value. He'd taught Jeremy to listen first before making a judgement. He'd taught Jeremy that the people who killed weren't the monsters, it was those who were weak. The ones who had fallen into the game so easily. The ones who so easily called others monsters for things they were considering doing. Even if Alex was dead, even if he couldn't act upon his deal anymore, he still had to live. He still had to be strong. He still had to be better than those beneath him.
"I-"
The syllable choked itself out of his throat. His hand clutched. Scratched. Tore at the hand of Fiyori's he was holding on to. Maybe it hurt her. Maybe he shouldn't do that, but he wouldn't stop. He didn't notice.
Because there was Ben. He wasn't here anymore. He was probably on that roof, his carcass serving as food for the vultures or the birds or whatever was up there. Because hey, look, Jeremy had done it. He hadn't killed anyone else. You'd challenged him and blustered yourself up and put Jeremy through tooth and nail just to prove your goddamn point and you succeeded. Maybe he hadn't been able to give the bag back, maybe he hadn't been able to find Penelope, but at least he died in pain and fear on this floor before he'd been able to do anything about his goals. You happy about that? You happy that he failed in doing most of the stuff he wanted to make sure he did?
Because guess what? That wasn't entirely because of you. Because there was Josh. Because there was Jasmine. Josh was a friend. A close one. One of the kindest people he'd met and one of the easiest people he'd been with to get along with. And he was dead. Killed on the very first day by Caedyn's fucking bitch before Jeremy even had a chance to find him. Even then, he'd wanted to do something about that. Find his corpse. Find Jasmine. Figure out why it happened. Give his last regards. It wasn't much, it wouldn't have compared to being able to see him in person, but it would have made him happy. He would have been okay with doing that.
But he couldn't now.
Because he was in this room, in Fiyori's arms. Dying. The cold was spreading and his sight was weakening and he knew that he wasn't leaving this room alive. He'd been saying it since moment one.
Jeremy Frasier, 0% chance of winning this game.
Jeremy Frasier, 0% chance of doing anything he wanted to do before his time came.
Well, no, actually.
There was a chance.
Because there was Fiyori. She was here. Holding his body. Putting him close to her. She was... a friend. Maybe an acquaintance. He still wasn't quite sure. Maybe there was a point where she'd annoyed him. Maybe she did blame him for something he didn't do. Maybe she did bring up bad memories. She was still fun though. Friendly. Gave him food, that one time. Gave him company, for a brief moment. He wanted to say sorry, about that. About leaving. He'd gotten angry and he'd raged his way out and he'd never been able to talk with her, after that. So he wanted to say sorry. He wanted to make sure that got out. Even if he was dying here, even if he wasn't going to be able to achieve anything that he wanted to, he could still do that, right?
So no.
It did matter.
He had to say something.
They were his final words.
He had to make them count.
No regrets.
Right?
...
He looked up. Into her eyes. Brought the syllable out of his mouth.
"I'm-"
The metallic feeling filled his throat. The syllable could only barely choke itself out. He tried bringing another.
...
He'd kept his head up, for a few seconds.
And then the world never saw his face again.
B003: JEREMY FRASIER: DECEASED
46 STUDENTS REMAIN
46 STUDENTS REMAIN
Jeremy's hand stopped moving. As his number's of breathes ran out, his hands clung to hers tighter and tighter. But now, it wasn't moving anymore. The natural contractions and jittering, the active pressure of a living being had ceased to be. Fiyori didn't let go of his hand.
He had tried to say something. He managed to utter out a single syllable, but the rest of his will died with him. It could've been a question, or maybe it was meant to be a plea. Perhaps he knew who killed him, and desired a vow of revenge. Or maybe it was just a declaration to the world, or one to Fiyori all alone. She wouldn't know, and she could never ever know because Jeremy was no more. He could say nothing more. All of his was gone, with a shot to the lung and all Fiyori could do was some pathetic attempt at comfort.
She looked down on his lifeless body. It was still warm, but that warmth was an illusion. It made Fiyori upset. More so that she would've expected. There weren't any sobs she had to spare, or tears to spill, but Fiyori noticed the irritation in her own breath. She noticed the heaviness of her own body, still in contact with Jeremy's. Her mind felt empty, yet bursting with too much. Out of all the people on this island, Jeremy would not have been one of her 'favorites' or anything. And yet in that moment, his death appeared to be the greatest wrong she had ever witnessed.
. . .
Fiyori held on to his body a little while longer.
---
She looked up. The window had been shattered, and pale light fell into the room. It illuminated the floor, the desk, the bag and even Jeremy seemed to have a gray serenity to him.
It never quite got to her, but the island was much more beautiful than she thought.
[[Fiyori Senay, continued in Zum Glueck in die Zukunft II]]
He had tried to say something. He managed to utter out a single syllable, but the rest of his will died with him. It could've been a question, or maybe it was meant to be a plea. Perhaps he knew who killed him, and desired a vow of revenge. Or maybe it was just a declaration to the world, or one to Fiyori all alone. She wouldn't know, and she could never ever know because Jeremy was no more. He could say nothing more. All of his was gone, with a shot to the lung and all Fiyori could do was some pathetic attempt at comfort.
She looked down on his lifeless body. It was still warm, but that warmth was an illusion. It made Fiyori upset. More so that she would've expected. There weren't any sobs she had to spare, or tears to spill, but Fiyori noticed the irritation in her own breath. She noticed the heaviness of her own body, still in contact with Jeremy's. Her mind felt empty, yet bursting with too much. Out of all the people on this island, Jeremy would not have been one of her 'favorites' or anything. And yet in that moment, his death appeared to be the greatest wrong she had ever witnessed.
. . .
Fiyori held on to his body a little while longer.
---
She looked up. The window had been shattered, and pale light fell into the room. It illuminated the floor, the desk, the bag and even Jeremy seemed to have a gray serenity to him.
It never quite got to her, but the island was much more beautiful than she thought.
[[Fiyori Senay, continued in Zum Glueck in die Zukunft II]]
Gervais Frans Lambotte Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern
||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
Blue Jeans and Bloody Tears Martini-Henry Rifle MkIV Pattern||Selection|Clicks|Lonely|
. . .
The door to the observation room opened. And Jasmine Reed peeked her head out.
(Jasmine Reed continued from crushcrushcrush.)
Caedyn was gone. They split up before this. While Jasmine had told Kay that she was going off to look for surprise, somebody had her ear and convinced her otherwise. And, as it turned out, Jasmine wasn't the only one lying.The last time Caedyn went off on her own she ended up killing someone. Kay said that it was all justified - self-defense, wasn't her fault. But Jasmine wasn't sure. She doubted Caedyn. And it was a good thing too, because Caedyn killed Jeremy Frasier and she smiled while she did it. At least, Jasmine imagined she was smiling. Nobody says Jerebear and not smile.
Jasmine did not feel sympathy for Jeremy. She didn't feel bad for him. It sounded like he was kind of an asshole, Caedyn told her all about him back home. A small part of her wished she could have met him before he died, because he wanted to hear about what happened. He sounded genuine about wanting closure, too. But that wasn't going to keep her up at night. She didn't even feel bad for Fiyori either. She didn't know her, so why should she care?
No. It was all about Caedyn.
"It's coming down to the wire Jazzy" Caitlyn said.
Jasmine mumbled a begrudging, "I know", as she shouldered her bag. She kind of wished Fiyori didn't take all of Jeremy's stuff. That bag was, like, filled to the brim with stuff. But it was alright, no big deal. She still had Caedyn.
"You can only bang on so many surfaces before it gets boring," Caitlyn said. She was sitting cross-legged on the desk in the observation room, hands in her lap. "You know that, right?"
"I know."
Caitlyn sneered. "The honeymoon's over,"
"... I know."
"Yeah. You say you know, but what are you doing? You're clinging to her like a stupid puppy Jazzy! This - " her bestest friend pointed into the room, into the corpse that used to be JereBear, "- is gonna be you if you don't smarten up! There's only so much I can do you for Jazzy. If you're want to go home, if you want to see your family again, you need to start listening to me."
Jasmine thought about it. She had thought about it, before, when it was just her and Kay, and when it was just herself and her thoughts and that included her bestest friend ever. But it was only now that Jasmine was truly, one-hundred percent considering it. She turned her head to look at Caitlyn and gave a terse nod. Caedyn loved her, Jasmine believed that, but Caedyn was also a liar. She had been ignoring that, excusing it all this time.
Could Jasmine kill her best friend?
She still didn't know. The question was too complicated for a simple yes/no.
Could Jasmine's best friend kill her?
The answer was yes. Yes they very well could.
(Jasmine Reed continued in Takao.)
The door to the observation room opened. And Jasmine Reed peeked her head out.
(Jasmine Reed continued from crushcrushcrush.)
Caedyn was gone. They split up before this. While Jasmine had told Kay that she was going off to look for surprise, somebody had her ear and convinced her otherwise. And, as it turned out, Jasmine wasn't the only one lying.The last time Caedyn went off on her own she ended up killing someone. Kay said that it was all justified - self-defense, wasn't her fault. But Jasmine wasn't sure. She doubted Caedyn. And it was a good thing too, because Caedyn killed Jeremy Frasier and she smiled while she did it. At least, Jasmine imagined she was smiling. Nobody says Jerebear and not smile.
Jasmine did not feel sympathy for Jeremy. She didn't feel bad for him. It sounded like he was kind of an asshole, Caedyn told her all about him back home. A small part of her wished she could have met him before he died, because he wanted to hear about what happened. He sounded genuine about wanting closure, too. But that wasn't going to keep her up at night. She didn't even feel bad for Fiyori either. She didn't know her, so why should she care?
No. It was all about Caedyn.
"It's coming down to the wire Jazzy" Caitlyn said.
Jasmine mumbled a begrudging, "I know", as she shouldered her bag. She kind of wished Fiyori didn't take all of Jeremy's stuff. That bag was, like, filled to the brim with stuff. But it was alright, no big deal. She still had Caedyn.
"You can only bang on so many surfaces before it gets boring," Caitlyn said. She was sitting cross-legged on the desk in the observation room, hands in her lap. "You know that, right?"
"I know."
Caitlyn sneered. "The honeymoon's over,"
"... I know."
"Yeah. You say you know, but what are you doing? You're clinging to her like a stupid puppy Jazzy! This - " her bestest friend pointed into the room, into the corpse that used to be JereBear, "- is gonna be you if you don't smarten up! There's only so much I can do you for Jazzy. If you're want to go home, if you want to see your family again, you need to start listening to me."
Jasmine thought about it. She had thought about it, before, when it was just her and Kay, and when it was just herself and her thoughts and that included her bestest friend ever. But it was only now that Jasmine was truly, one-hundred percent considering it. She turned her head to look at Caitlyn and gave a terse nod. Caedyn loved her, Jasmine believed that, but Caedyn was also a liar. She had been ignoring that, excusing it all this time.
Could Jasmine kill her best friend?
She still didn't know. The question was too complicated for a simple yes/no.
Could Jasmine's best friend kill her?
The answer was yes. Yes they very well could.
(Jasmine Reed continued in Takao.)