((Roland continues from Can't Fall Down))
Roland had mostly kept his mouth shut upon waking up, aside from muttering the occasional curse at his own stupidity. He was in the midst of working out a game plan, escaping and bashing Danya's smug face in. Falling asleep while completely defenseless was one of the stupidest things he could think of and he was honestly surprised he hadn't had his throat slit upon waking up. Kitty was still there, crouching near a tree a few feet away, looking relatively terrified. Roland didn't bother to attempt to brighten her up any. They were in the midst of a death game, anything Roland could have said would have been false. This was guerrilla warfare, he couldn't waste anytime. Not on Kitty's morale, not on doubts.
I did the right thing. Robert would have done the same thing if it was me. There was no shame, the guilt is on Alex...
Roland found his thoughts drifting back towards his previous companions more often then not. Isabella and Dave. He wondered where they were, if they were even still alive. He'd listened intently to the announcements thus far, both had not been listed. Neither had Meredith, that crazed emo girl. Roland had been rather surprised at that. It seemed Alex had been keeping low since the Fun Fair incident as well, as he hadn't been mentioned either. The more he thought of Alex, the more his anger grew. If anyone was to blame for Robert, it was him. Roland would never admit it, but he hoped more then anything else to meet Alex again, on his own terms.
More importantly the announcements had taught him who to kill on sight. Reiko Ishida. Maxwell Lombardi. Hartmann. A girl named Clio, another named Hayley. Alex, Staffan Kronwall and Rachel Gettys. The 'players.'
Not players, murderers. That's all they are.
Alex won't win this game. I'll make sure of that. That crazy fucker killed him, not me. I was innocent, I can't be held responsible. Isabella and Dave... why do I still care? They abandoned ME. They must have realized their chances without me...
Roland bit back his thoughts. As much as he wanted to dismiss the pair, especially Dave, he simply couldn't. He had sworn he would get them off, and he couldn't go back on that. Not here, not on this Island. They were part of his team, they weren't playing and he didn't see that likely to change.
If I find them, they're with me. If I can't, oh well... I have more important things to think on...
Too many questions had been floating around in his brain since he had awoken.
How am I going to go about this?
Who can I trust...?
Why didn't she kill me?
Kitty had said no one was at the cell tower. The girl had no reason to lie to him, but Roland was regretting not going to check it out himself, just incase Kitty had missed someone. It didn't matter anymore he supposed. The tower was far off, best left forgotten. Roland was back, and he had some thinking to do.
Abruptly he looked over at Kitty, his constant companion. He couldn't remember what he had last said to her. Being honest with himself, Roland realized he didnt know WHAT to say. They didn't have any common interests. Just because they were in a death game, it didn't mean they would be thinking on the same level. Roland was fairly certain he could rely on Kitty if he needed supplies gathered, or something along those lines. But in a fight, where Roland truly thrived and led? There was no question about it. Kitty was useful, Kitty was sane. But Roland needed others.
"...Let's stop and eat."
It was awkward, and it certainly didn't solve his problems, but it was a decent start. Roland stopped and dropped his backpack to the ground, hearing the heavy clunk as his supplies shifted around inside. He had been carefully rationing his food since the Tower, but he couldnt estimate when he'd eventually run out. He hoped it was long enough. Ahead of the pair the forest seemed to open up, Roland could barely make out through the trees what he believed to be a entrance of some kind. A bunker or something? He wasn't sure, but it would be a good place to head after a bite to eat.
Running his hands through his hair, Roland unpacked his bag and grabbed for a water bottle and some crackers. It wasn't what he needed, but it would keep him moving.
Are you watching Dad? You'd better be. I'll make history, I'll kill this twisted bastard. Swear on the Bible, I will. You just watch and see what I can do...
Shore Leave
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Little Boy†
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Shore Leave
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(Kitty Gittschall continued from Can't Fall Down)
...
It had been a long time since Kitty said anything. Not because she didn't have anything to say. She just didn't want to talk. Kitty wanted the silence. It made things easier to handle.
...
Roland said something. Kitty half-heard him. She heard the word eat. She knew she had to eat something. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to keep down anything. She looked into Roland's eyes.
Fucking murderer.
"I'm not hungry." She replied. Kitty didn't look Roland in the eyes when she said that.
The shaft ahead of them was about the only shelter they would hope for. Kitty wasn't thrilled about it but she wasn't in any position to complain.
Roland was turned away from her, bottle and crackers in hand. Kitty was aware that her throat was dry. When was the last time she had water? She couldn't Of course, that wasn't the only thing that had numbed. As far as Kitty Gittschall was concerned, the butterflies in her chest were long dead. Any feelings of fear or doubt were stripped away, replaced by disillusioned neutrality. She just didn't care. Not about Roland, not about dying. Nothing. She was just numb. That was the only word to describe it.
Yet not totally numb. Roland. She didn't know anything about Roland. Yet she had stuck with him for the past two days, just walking. A murderer. It had confused her. Why had he killed a boy like Robert but not a wounded girl like her? That was the only question that had been repeating in her brain like a broken record. It fed on her mind.
Roland was eating. He kept quiet. It made speaking her mind almost impossible.
Kitty swallowed, pain swelling in her cheeks. She spoke up.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
...
It had been a long time since Kitty said anything. Not because she didn't have anything to say. She just didn't want to talk. Kitty wanted the silence. It made things easier to handle.
...
Roland said something. Kitty half-heard him. She heard the word eat. She knew she had to eat something. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to keep down anything. She looked into Roland's eyes.
Fucking murderer.
"I'm not hungry." She replied. Kitty didn't look Roland in the eyes when she said that.
The shaft ahead of them was about the only shelter they would hope for. Kitty wasn't thrilled about it but she wasn't in any position to complain.
Roland was turned away from her, bottle and crackers in hand. Kitty was aware that her throat was dry. When was the last time she had water? She couldn't Of course, that wasn't the only thing that had numbed. As far as Kitty Gittschall was concerned, the butterflies in her chest were long dead. Any feelings of fear or doubt were stripped away, replaced by disillusioned neutrality. She just didn't care. Not about Roland, not about dying. Nothing. She was just numb. That was the only word to describe it.
Yet not totally numb. Roland. She didn't know anything about Roland. Yet she had stuck with him for the past two days, just walking. A murderer. It had confused her. Why had he killed a boy like Robert but not a wounded girl like her? That was the only question that had been repeating in her brain like a broken record. It fed on her mind.
Roland was eating. He kept quiet. It made speaking her mind almost impossible.
Kitty swallowed, pain swelling in her cheeks. She spoke up.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
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Little Boy†
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"Bullshit." Roland bluntly said, taking a swig from his water bottle. He looked up towards Kitty, the girl seemed lost, in her own world. It wasn't good. Roland needed to fix that, quick. He didn't have time for sentimentality. He didn't know who Kitty was friends with, or if one of her friends had been killed. It didn't matter any he supposed. He hadn't known them. They were just another causality, another crime committed by Danya.
I need to think, think big. I need to find who I can trust, I need capable allies and I need a PLAN. Think Roland, think. How can you do this?
Slicking his hair back, Roland let out a sigh. He was drawing blanks, and it was only serving to infuriate him. He wanted to vent his anger something awful.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
He looked up towards Kitty. He frowned at the girl. The more he thought on it, the more he saw her as just a waste of space, another body to protect. He'd protect her alright, but he hoped she'd play at least some use in his plans.
"Why wouldn't I be nice to you? That's a rather stupid question." He paused, taking another swig of his water bottle. It was nearly empty. He didn't have much in terms of a water purifier, but he was fairly certain the numerous streams and rivers were safe to drink from.
Something wild might've died in the river though... or someone... No. No, don't think that. That isn't going to help anything
"I'm being nice to you, because... you're human. You could have killed me already, and you didn't. You just want to go home, pretend this whole trip hasn't even occurred. You probably want to forget about all your dead friends, you probably want to lock yourself in your room and never hear the name Danya ever again. You want to be numb and detached. You want to be normal and not care about all this suffering. You're selfish. But that doesn't matter, as long as you get a chance to forget. I'm here to help you with that. I'm here to remember all this shit, so you don't have to. I'm not here to lose like everyone else. My goal is the complete destruction of everything these terrorists stand for. I'm going to make them insignificant and I'm going to fuck up their plans so bad they'll regret ever messing with a Harte. I'm going to make them bleed a thousand times over, for every kid who's died on this program, for both the murderers and the victims..."
He stopped, chuckling slightly. He was letting his rage flow out of him, and it felt damn good. He looked up towards Kitty, a grin on his face. He had no idea how the girl was taking all this, and he didn't exactly care. Why should he mince words, with such little time left?
"I don't care what I have to do. If it means killing people- people I've grown up with, then so be it. They made their decision, when they chose to get in my way. This is, for all intents and purposes, my war now. I'll fight the monsters so you and anyone else I can save can go hide under your beds back home in St. Paul. Because that's your God-given right, as an American."
He laughed again, ripping open his package of crackers. He waved towards Kitty, gesturing for her to sit down. He couldn't believe he'd managed to articulate everything so clearly. He could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins. He wanted to get up, take on the world, slide Charlene across Danya's fat throat... The image stuck with him, leaving him warm inside. Danya, blubbering like a baby, a thin red line stretching across his neck as Roland slowly pressed the blade to his skin... Just like with Robert, no time for hesitation. Roland smiled at the thought.
"Now sit, I'm not going to have you faint on me later on. I've got some thinking to do anyways..."
I need to think, think big. I need to find who I can trust, I need capable allies and I need a PLAN. Think Roland, think. How can you do this?
Slicking his hair back, Roland let out a sigh. He was drawing blanks, and it was only serving to infuriate him. He wanted to vent his anger something awful.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
He looked up towards Kitty. He frowned at the girl. The more he thought on it, the more he saw her as just a waste of space, another body to protect. He'd protect her alright, but he hoped she'd play at least some use in his plans.
"Why wouldn't I be nice to you? That's a rather stupid question." He paused, taking another swig of his water bottle. It was nearly empty. He didn't have much in terms of a water purifier, but he was fairly certain the numerous streams and rivers were safe to drink from.
Something wild might've died in the river though... or someone... No. No, don't think that. That isn't going to help anything
"I'm being nice to you, because... you're human. You could have killed me already, and you didn't. You just want to go home, pretend this whole trip hasn't even occurred. You probably want to forget about all your dead friends, you probably want to lock yourself in your room and never hear the name Danya ever again. You want to be numb and detached. You want to be normal and not care about all this suffering. You're selfish. But that doesn't matter, as long as you get a chance to forget. I'm here to help you with that. I'm here to remember all this shit, so you don't have to. I'm not here to lose like everyone else. My goal is the complete destruction of everything these terrorists stand for. I'm going to make them insignificant and I'm going to fuck up their plans so bad they'll regret ever messing with a Harte. I'm going to make them bleed a thousand times over, for every kid who's died on this program, for both the murderers and the victims..."
He stopped, chuckling slightly. He was letting his rage flow out of him, and it felt damn good. He looked up towards Kitty, a grin on his face. He had no idea how the girl was taking all this, and he didn't exactly care. Why should he mince words, with such little time left?
"I don't care what I have to do. If it means killing people- people I've grown up with, then so be it. They made their decision, when they chose to get in my way. This is, for all intents and purposes, my war now. I'll fight the monsters so you and anyone else I can save can go hide under your beds back home in St. Paul. Because that's your God-given right, as an American."
He laughed again, ripping open his package of crackers. He waved towards Kitty, gesturing for her to sit down. He couldn't believe he'd managed to articulate everything so clearly. He could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins. He wanted to get up, take on the world, slide Charlene across Danya's fat throat... The image stuck with him, leaving him warm inside. Danya, blubbering like a baby, a thin red line stretching across his neck as Roland slowly pressed the blade to his skin... Just like with Robert, no time for hesitation. Roland smiled at the thought.
"Now sit, I'm not going to have you faint on me later on. I've got some thinking to do anyways..."
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Roland was a stubborn mule and it just drove Kitty up the wall. She said she wasn't hungry. He didn't have to order her around. She wasn't a child. If there was one thing she hated, it was people with superiority complexes. Up until now she was able to contain herself. That was until he answered her question.
The answer wasn't the kind that could fill someone with rainbows and ponies. It did the opposite. The way he spoke made Kitty want to slap him as hard as she could. Fucking murderer is talking to me about how he is going to save us? Why the hell would you aim to take on an army alone? How naive can you be?!
Kitty had taken everything Roland said into account. She had alot to respond with. Preferably at the top of her lungs with the fire of a thousands suns backing her. She kept it brief though. Didn't want the boy to go thinking she had doubts about his capabilities.
"I'm human?"
Kitty and Roland were not friends. Hell, they never even spoke outside of class. The only way she knew his name was because they worked together one day in class. She wasn't sure how accurate that was, it was only a guess. She had worked WITH a Roland... So how could he know her? They only had two conversations in the past three days. How could he gather that SHE was human? In fact, how could he not see why she had really kept him alive?
Kitty sat down, across from Roland. Brushed her pants off. The wrinkles weren't going away any time soon. She looked up. She had another question for Roland. Opened her moth to speak.
"And the kid you butchered wasn't?"
That was not the question. It wasn't even close. That had slipped out.
Kitty's face went red. The best course of action was to apologize, but they day Kitty was going to apologize to a murderer was the day she died. Salt in the wound was salt in the wound. Nothing she could do. Grabbed her bag. Pulled a water bottle out. Turned her head, as far away from Roland as she could get it. Opened the cap. Lip to lip. Kept her mouth shut. Pretended that she had said something else.
The answer wasn't the kind that could fill someone with rainbows and ponies. It did the opposite. The way he spoke made Kitty want to slap him as hard as she could. Fucking murderer is talking to me about how he is going to save us? Why the hell would you aim to take on an army alone? How naive can you be?!
Kitty had taken everything Roland said into account. She had alot to respond with. Preferably at the top of her lungs with the fire of a thousands suns backing her. She kept it brief though. Didn't want the boy to go thinking she had doubts about his capabilities.
"I'm human?"
Kitty and Roland were not friends. Hell, they never even spoke outside of class. The only way she knew his name was because they worked together one day in class. She wasn't sure how accurate that was, it was only a guess. She had worked WITH a Roland... So how could he know her? They only had two conversations in the past three days. How could he gather that SHE was human? In fact, how could he not see why she had really kept him alive?
Kitty sat down, across from Roland. Brushed her pants off. The wrinkles weren't going away any time soon. She looked up. She had another question for Roland. Opened her moth to speak.
"And the kid you butchered wasn't?"
That was not the question. It wasn't even close. That had slipped out.
Kitty's face went red. The best course of action was to apologize, but they day Kitty was going to apologize to a murderer was the day she died. Salt in the wound was salt in the wound. Nothing she could do. Grabbed her bag. Pulled a water bottle out. Turned her head, as far away from Roland as she could get it. Opened the cap. Lip to lip. Kept her mouth shut. Pretended that she had said something else.
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Little Boy†
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Roland's eyes narrowed at Kitty's response. The girl had obviously not meant to say it so... blunt, but it didn't matter. She didn't look at him, pretending to be interested in the nearby scenery. Roland tried to control his breathing, counting to 10 in his head. He couldn't expect her to understand what had occurred.
She's got no right to accuse me. I saved her. She would be fucking dead if it wasn't for me. She doesn't even realize that, does she? Why the fuck should I feel- feel obligated to stick with her, when all I am is a butcher? I buried him. I gave him my respects. It shouldn't matter anymore. I did what was right. It's his own fault really. If he hadn't been revving a chainsaw, attacking kids, I wouldn't have done shit all to him.
For a brief moment, Roland considered simply getting up, walking on. But he didn't. He couldn't. What would that make him? Nothing. All he had left were his vows, his promises. What would that say to those watching back home? What would that say about himself, truly? He was angry, but he couldn't walk out. It was his job.
He took a deep breath and finished counting in his head. Kitty didn't look too intent to add anything else on, so it had once more fallen to him to speak.
"I don't expect you to understand what happened. For all intents and purposes, no, that kid was not human. Not anymore. He was going to kill someone, probably you. I won't stand by and watch something like that happen. So I acted, I made a decision. I killed him. I butchered him or whatever the hell you want to call it. It doesn't change who I am. I've been upfront with you, because I'm looking out for your best interests. You can think whatever the hell you want about me, I don't care."
Roland paused thinking of something further to say. He couldn't. The entire conversation, the implications, what he'd done... it was making his stomach roll. But he couldn't show any weakness. Not now, not with someone like Kitty. He couldn't hate the girl, it wasn't right, it had no basis. Roland removed his glasses, scrubbing them on his sweater sleeve. His clothing was terrible, it looked as if he'd spent weeks in the woods rather then only a few days. He would be regretting the grave digging for many nights to come.
However many I have left... But I shouldn't. I made my peace with him. He'd have understood. I did what I had to do.
She's got no right to accuse me. I saved her. She would be fucking dead if it wasn't for me. She doesn't even realize that, does she? Why the fuck should I feel- feel obligated to stick with her, when all I am is a butcher? I buried him. I gave him my respects. It shouldn't matter anymore. I did what was right. It's his own fault really. If he hadn't been revving a chainsaw, attacking kids, I wouldn't have done shit all to him.
For a brief moment, Roland considered simply getting up, walking on. But he didn't. He couldn't. What would that make him? Nothing. All he had left were his vows, his promises. What would that say to those watching back home? What would that say about himself, truly? He was angry, but he couldn't walk out. It was his job.
He took a deep breath and finished counting in his head. Kitty didn't look too intent to add anything else on, so it had once more fallen to him to speak.
"I don't expect you to understand what happened. For all intents and purposes, no, that kid was not human. Not anymore. He was going to kill someone, probably you. I won't stand by and watch something like that happen. So I acted, I made a decision. I killed him. I butchered him or whatever the hell you want to call it. It doesn't change who I am. I've been upfront with you, because I'm looking out for your best interests. You can think whatever the hell you want about me, I don't care."
Roland paused thinking of something further to say. He couldn't. The entire conversation, the implications, what he'd done... it was making his stomach roll. But he couldn't show any weakness. Not now, not with someone like Kitty. He couldn't hate the girl, it wasn't right, it had no basis. Roland removed his glasses, scrubbing them on his sweater sleeve. His clothing was terrible, it looked as if he'd spent weeks in the woods rather then only a few days. He would be regretting the grave digging for many nights to come.
However many I have left... But I shouldn't. I made my peace with him. He'd have understood. I did what I had to do.
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((Jaquard "Jackie" Broughten continued from Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows...))
Suddenly, the darkness disappeared, and her legs felt weak. A quick stumble. She didn't remember getting to where she was standing, but all was quiet. And she wondered quietly to herself if everything before had been a dream. She was standing in the woods, staring towards an entrance to somewhere dark. Her eyes were out of focus, and everything hurt. Her jeans were tattered, and the hoodie that was stained with the red of her victim felt... off. Her eyes began to slowly come into focus, and as they did she made out two figures talking. Not that she could hear a sound, but she could see the animation of their bodies; the moving of their lips. She didn't recognize either of the pair. However, neither of them seemed very... threatening.
However, before she approached the pair, she sat, and contemplated what had happened. She remembered the meltdown- the voices. She remembered the girl and the guy and the other guy and the gun. She remembered pleading with them to stop.
She remembered darkness, and muffled voices. Those voices.
"Am I even me anymore?"
She shook her head. Of course she was. It had to have been a bad dream, some reaction to the drugs.
Ugh. She would never forget those voices as long as she lived.
----------------------
"How do you know that? She's killed once before. Wait. Who the hell even are you?"
"...Who am I even? I know I'm not Jackie... But all of my memories are Jackie's."
"You're a byproduct. That's all you need to know. I have been dormant within her for years, and so has her inner child. You however are new. You're a product of the split."
The body seemed to be on auto pilot as Jackie navigated the trees and the stones and the cliffs on her way down the mountain, never looking back. Her eyes were emotionless and blank as she just continued to move. Not at a run, not at a walk. Somewhere in between. The kind of walk you might see a businessman do if he were late to a meeting. But... Her face was just void of emotion. It was as if no one was truly there.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you?"
"The name I have chosen for myself now that I can actually have a bit of space in her mind is Cassarah."
"That still doesn't answer my question."
"Trust me. I'm aware."
The internal struggle went silent for a few moments as emotion returned to Jackie's face without any outward warning. However instead of any other emotion that one watching may have expected, instead this was a look of determination. For what however was masked.
"Seriously. If you're so damn smart why don't you just explain?"
"Figure it out for yourself. It's really not that difficult." The voice chuckled, sending a shiver up Cassarah's spine.
"I'm never going to get used to that.
The rest of the mental conversation was blocked back into the back of her mind as she concentrated on finding somewhere else that she could force Jackie to do some damn good. As much as Cassarah wanted Jackie to do it on her own, she was too weak, too emotional in her current state. As unfortunate as it was, she might just have to take over again to calm things down. After all, the incident at the mountain had been an extremely close call.
Day turned to night, and night back to day with Cassarah holding control of the body that she was now regrettably sharing with way too many. She had decided to circle the mountain, and took note of the danger zones and the kills, even continuing Jackie's record of the killers and the victims. Seeming to only show a single soft sigh, shaking her head at the pointless destruction and death, she continued on, almost completing her circuit. "Well. That was pointless. Either way... I want to see how Jackie does. So let's see what she does in the presence of a pair of people who don't look like they're mentally unstable."
----------------------
A sudden realization. It was bright out, yet the sun wasn't setting as it was before. She had gone the entire night without realizing. With a start she fiddled with her bag, pulling out a small pad that she salvaged from her purse before throwing it down the river. There were new names and new Danger Zones.
But... The handwriting was different. It was messy, it was haphazard.
"...What?"
She plopped onto her rear, staring at the tiny little book in contemplation. Could it have had something to do with the voices? No, that had to have been a bad dream. She sighed. Her thoughts almost felt like they were wavering. She had to be exhausted. And starved. Reaching into her bag again, she noticed that what was left of her bread was gone. And again, she contemplated; interrupted by a growling stomach. At least there was still some water left, and that she took solace in, drinking it down. The pair of kids that obviously hadn't noticed her yet were just kind of... sitting there. Doing almost nothing. It almost looked like a long series of awkward pauses.
Why am I so tempted to go over and try to be friendly? There's no way they'll listen, no way they'll help.
She stood, unable to stop herself. One foot in front of the other towards Roland and Kitty. This is a bad idea... Step, step, step. Out of the woods in a blood soaked sweatshirt, and with a hacksaw dangling from her belt she wandered, one hand slung underneath the strap of her assigned pack. She couldn't force herself to call out to the pair, yet she couldn't force herself to stop walking.
Suddenly, the darkness disappeared, and her legs felt weak. A quick stumble. She didn't remember getting to where she was standing, but all was quiet. And she wondered quietly to herself if everything before had been a dream. She was standing in the woods, staring towards an entrance to somewhere dark. Her eyes were out of focus, and everything hurt. Her jeans were tattered, and the hoodie that was stained with the red of her victim felt... off. Her eyes began to slowly come into focus, and as they did she made out two figures talking. Not that she could hear a sound, but she could see the animation of their bodies; the moving of their lips. She didn't recognize either of the pair. However, neither of them seemed very... threatening.
However, before she approached the pair, she sat, and contemplated what had happened. She remembered the meltdown- the voices. She remembered the girl and the guy and the other guy and the gun. She remembered pleading with them to stop.
She remembered darkness, and muffled voices. Those voices.
"Am I even me anymore?"
She shook her head. Of course she was. It had to have been a bad dream, some reaction to the drugs.
Ugh. She would never forget those voices as long as she lived.
----------------------
"How do you know that? She's killed once before. Wait. Who the hell even are you?"
"...Who am I even? I know I'm not Jackie... But all of my memories are Jackie's."
"You're a byproduct. That's all you need to know. I have been dormant within her for years, and so has her inner child. You however are new. You're a product of the split."
The body seemed to be on auto pilot as Jackie navigated the trees and the stones and the cliffs on her way down the mountain, never looking back. Her eyes were emotionless and blank as she just continued to move. Not at a run, not at a walk. Somewhere in between. The kind of walk you might see a businessman do if he were late to a meeting. But... Her face was just void of emotion. It was as if no one was truly there.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you?"
"The name I have chosen for myself now that I can actually have a bit of space in her mind is Cassarah."
"That still doesn't answer my question."
"Trust me. I'm aware."
The internal struggle went silent for a few moments as emotion returned to Jackie's face without any outward warning. However instead of any other emotion that one watching may have expected, instead this was a look of determination. For what however was masked.
"Seriously. If you're so damn smart why don't you just explain?"
"Figure it out for yourself. It's really not that difficult." The voice chuckled, sending a shiver up Cassarah's spine.
"I'm never going to get used to that.
The rest of the mental conversation was blocked back into the back of her mind as she concentrated on finding somewhere else that she could force Jackie to do some damn good. As much as Cassarah wanted Jackie to do it on her own, she was too weak, too emotional in her current state. As unfortunate as it was, she might just have to take over again to calm things down. After all, the incident at the mountain had been an extremely close call.
Day turned to night, and night back to day with Cassarah holding control of the body that she was now regrettably sharing with way too many. She had decided to circle the mountain, and took note of the danger zones and the kills, even continuing Jackie's record of the killers and the victims. Seeming to only show a single soft sigh, shaking her head at the pointless destruction and death, she continued on, almost completing her circuit. "Well. That was pointless. Either way... I want to see how Jackie does. So let's see what she does in the presence of a pair of people who don't look like they're mentally unstable."
----------------------
A sudden realization. It was bright out, yet the sun wasn't setting as it was before. She had gone the entire night without realizing. With a start she fiddled with her bag, pulling out a small pad that she salvaged from her purse before throwing it down the river. There were new names and new Danger Zones.
But... The handwriting was different. It was messy, it was haphazard.
"...What?"
She plopped onto her rear, staring at the tiny little book in contemplation. Could it have had something to do with the voices? No, that had to have been a bad dream. She sighed. Her thoughts almost felt like they were wavering. She had to be exhausted. And starved. Reaching into her bag again, she noticed that what was left of her bread was gone. And again, she contemplated; interrupted by a growling stomach. At least there was still some water left, and that she took solace in, drinking it down. The pair of kids that obviously hadn't noticed her yet were just kind of... sitting there. Doing almost nothing. It almost looked like a long series of awkward pauses.
Why am I so tempted to go over and try to be friendly? There's no way they'll listen, no way they'll help.
She stood, unable to stop herself. One foot in front of the other towards Roland and Kitty. This is a bad idea... Step, step, step. Out of the woods in a blood soaked sweatshirt, and with a hacksaw dangling from her belt she wandered, one hand slung underneath the strap of her assigned pack. She couldn't force herself to call out to the pair, yet she couldn't force herself to stop walking.
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Little Boy†
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Kitty hadn't yet answered his question, but Roland had expected a pause. He'd certainly given her a lot to think about. This wasn't any normal day, as far as Roland could tell there wouldn't be anymore normal days. Not unless he escaped. Not until Danya was killed. Roland's brain was pounding with a dozen ideas and he was dismissing them just as rapidly. Escape. He had to escape. He had to beat the game.
How? If I so much as whisper my plans to Kitty, that ratfuck Danya will be on me. I need to organize a plan, convey a plan to Kitty... without speaking. How exactly do I go about doing THAT? And how can I engage in a plan with this collar on my neck and those cameras at my back? I need others. I need feedback and I need ideas. How am I supposed to get that? God knows how long it's been, and it's just me and Kitty here... Would Dave and Isabel even come back, if they knew the truth of it? If I could get them out? No, no- Roland don't think about that, not yet. You'll find them, they're more than capable. They're smart. They're on your side. You need to focus on getting out...
The situation looked unsolvable. Roland was beset by dangers at all sides and his time was running out. How many could he save? There had to be a loophole, something the Terrorists had done to give him an advantage... But Roland had drawn a blank. It frustrated him, infuriated him beyond all belief.
"Kitty we can't talk about escape- survival, like this. We need to find some..." Roland's words trailed away with the sound of approaching footsteps, through the bush. Raising his hand to silence Kitty, he crouched forward, retrieving Charlene. Pulling it back and hiding it behind him, Roland angled closer to Kitty as a girl, covered in blood emerged from the bush. Roland could feel the sweat begin to trickle down the side of his head. His eyes narrowed. He had no idea who the girl was, but it was obvious by her looks she had been in an altercation. It was equally obvious she hadn't been the one injured. That could only mean bad things as far as Roland was concerned.
Calm Roland... You can't just gut her. She might be sane, she might require help. Analyze this before you jump right in...
"Don't mov-" Roland began, before catching himself. He couldn't appear overtly aggressive. Isabel had taught him that. If she had gotten this close it meant either she needed help, or didn't possess a ranged weapon. Either way, with his hand on his Kris and a few paces between them, Roland was at a clear advantage.
"Just stay there for a minute. Are you hurt? Do you need First Aid?"
How? If I so much as whisper my plans to Kitty, that ratfuck Danya will be on me. I need to organize a plan, convey a plan to Kitty... without speaking. How exactly do I go about doing THAT? And how can I engage in a plan with this collar on my neck and those cameras at my back? I need others. I need feedback and I need ideas. How am I supposed to get that? God knows how long it's been, and it's just me and Kitty here... Would Dave and Isabel even come back, if they knew the truth of it? If I could get them out? No, no- Roland don't think about that, not yet. You'll find them, they're more than capable. They're smart. They're on your side. You need to focus on getting out...
The situation looked unsolvable. Roland was beset by dangers at all sides and his time was running out. How many could he save? There had to be a loophole, something the Terrorists had done to give him an advantage... But Roland had drawn a blank. It frustrated him, infuriated him beyond all belief.
"Kitty we can't talk about escape- survival, like this. We need to find some..." Roland's words trailed away with the sound of approaching footsteps, through the bush. Raising his hand to silence Kitty, he crouched forward, retrieving Charlene. Pulling it back and hiding it behind him, Roland angled closer to Kitty as a girl, covered in blood emerged from the bush. Roland could feel the sweat begin to trickle down the side of his head. His eyes narrowed. He had no idea who the girl was, but it was obvious by her looks she had been in an altercation. It was equally obvious she hadn't been the one injured. That could only mean bad things as far as Roland was concerned.
Calm Roland... You can't just gut her. She might be sane, she might require help. Analyze this before you jump right in...
"Don't mov-" Roland began, before catching himself. He couldn't appear overtly aggressive. Isabel had taught him that. If she had gotten this close it meant either she needed help, or didn't possess a ranged weapon. Either way, with his hand on his Kris and a few paces between them, Roland was at a clear advantage.
"Just stay there for a minute. Are you hurt? Do you need First Aid?"
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"Don't mov-"
She stopped dead in her tracks, as if she suddenly was gifted back control of her body. Her eyes went wide as she dumbly stood in front of the boy; who was significantly more forward about her presence than she expected.
"Just stay there for a minute. Are you hurt? Do you need First Aid?"
Why would he think that sh- Oh. Oh shit. She looked down at her hoodie, still covered in Maria's blood. Her expression turned quickly to panic before she took a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as possible. "N-No... I'm okay..." Okay was the understatement of the century. "I... I don't know what I want." Almost as if she was calling out to the breeze. So many different things she wanted right now, none of them she deserved. She wanted to make up for what she had done. She wanted to die. She wanted to get off this island. She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. She wanted to be with someone, not have to be alone again. And for some reason, she had the strangest urge to play a game of chess.
...Which of those did she really want though? They all seemed to conflict so heavily with each other. And she had absolutely no idea why. Each and every one of those items could be worked together in some fashion. Why did she feel like she was staring down an eight way fork in the road?
However, not being alone was the strongest of these feelings.
They didn't know her, she didn't know them. She could lie, come up with a name.
No, that didn't feel right.
Suddenly, she realized that she had been just standing there like a lump for way too long with an awkward silence piercing the air, the boy looking at her expectantly.
Might as well break it down to the basics...
With a decision in mind, she spoke finally. "I just want somewhere safe to sleep tonight." She lowered her head. Even now she was still lying. Yes, she wanted that, but that wasn't the reason that she could not physically stop herself from approaching them. What the flying FUCK was it though?
This must have sounded absolutely pathetic. She wanted with all of her being to run, and hide the monster that she had become. But she couldn't. Her legs betrayed her.
She could almost hear a chuckle from behind her at this thought. Her head quickly swiveled back to the woods, scanning to make sure no one was there. Much to her chagrin, there was no one. It had to be that voice again. Something had to be fucked up.
No. She refused to believe it.
"I'm Jackie..." If she couldn't move, she might as well try to not creep the hell out of the boy in front of her. "Please don't hurt me. I just want to go home..."
And there it was, the one thing that all five could agree on. Every single one of them wanted to go home.
She stopped dead in her tracks, as if she suddenly was gifted back control of her body. Her eyes went wide as she dumbly stood in front of the boy; who was significantly more forward about her presence than she expected.
"Just stay there for a minute. Are you hurt? Do you need First Aid?"
Why would he think that sh- Oh. Oh shit. She looked down at her hoodie, still covered in Maria's blood. Her expression turned quickly to panic before she took a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as possible. "N-No... I'm okay..." Okay was the understatement of the century. "I... I don't know what I want." Almost as if she was calling out to the breeze. So many different things she wanted right now, none of them she deserved. She wanted to make up for what she had done. She wanted to die. She wanted to get off this island. She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. She wanted to be with someone, not have to be alone again. And for some reason, she had the strangest urge to play a game of chess.
...Which of those did she really want though? They all seemed to conflict so heavily with each other. And she had absolutely no idea why. Each and every one of those items could be worked together in some fashion. Why did she feel like she was staring down an eight way fork in the road?
However, not being alone was the strongest of these feelings.
They didn't know her, she didn't know them. She could lie, come up with a name.
No, that didn't feel right.
Suddenly, she realized that she had been just standing there like a lump for way too long with an awkward silence piercing the air, the boy looking at her expectantly.
Might as well break it down to the basics...
With a decision in mind, she spoke finally. "I just want somewhere safe to sleep tonight." She lowered her head. Even now she was still lying. Yes, she wanted that, but that wasn't the reason that she could not physically stop herself from approaching them. What the flying FUCK was it though?
This must have sounded absolutely pathetic. She wanted with all of her being to run, and hide the monster that she had become. But she couldn't. Her legs betrayed her.
She could almost hear a chuckle from behind her at this thought. Her head quickly swiveled back to the woods, scanning to make sure no one was there. Much to her chagrin, there was no one. It had to be that voice again. Something had to be fucked up.
No. She refused to believe it.
"I'm Jackie..." If she couldn't move, she might as well try to not creep the hell out of the boy in front of her. "Please don't hurt me. I just want to go home..."
And there it was, the one thing that all five could agree on. Every single one of them wanted to go home.
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This was no pause. This was a full-blown refusal. She was NOT going to answer him. Oh she understood alright. She knew damn well that one kid was missing his insides and it sure wasn't Roland. Oh yes. Nothing was going to change her mind about that. She was just going to ignore him now. She just turned her head and sighed. Why the hell did she have to go and let that slip? Now Roland was acting all high and mighty. It was really annoying her.
He stopped talking. This alarmed Kitty. She turned her head back. Who was this? Kitty could have sworn that Jackie wasn't there when she turned away. She kept quiet. She studied the girl with her eyes, huffing loudly. She didn't look happy about it, but she didn't make a move.
Roland offered the girl Kitty wanted to get up and slap Roland. Jesus christ, what was he doing? - Okay, that didn't count. She wasn't feeling good. Plus, she wasn't bleeding... okay, maybe that made walking around in blood with a big knife worse. That was in the past. She wasn't thinking clearly. Now she was on the ball. She was eating. She had some sleep. And if a girl came up to her coated and blood, she would get a broom and shoo her away. And yet Roland was giving her a free ticket to join them. She could be a killer! Why the hell is he being so stupid?!
Kitty had plenty to say. She opened her mouth.
"Roland." Kitty started. Then she trailed off. Finally she stopped altogether and turned away. Forget it. Just forget it. Wasn't like he would listen anyway.
He stopped talking. This alarmed Kitty. She turned her head back. Who was this? Kitty could have sworn that Jackie wasn't there when she turned away. She kept quiet. She studied the girl with her eyes, huffing loudly. She didn't look happy about it, but she didn't make a move.
Roland offered the girl Kitty wanted to get up and slap Roland. Jesus christ, what was he doing? - Okay, that didn't count. She wasn't feeling good. Plus, she wasn't bleeding... okay, maybe that made walking around in blood with a big knife worse. That was in the past. She wasn't thinking clearly. Now she was on the ball. She was eating. She had some sleep. And if a girl came up to her coated and blood, she would get a broom and shoo her away. And yet Roland was giving her a free ticket to join them. She could be a killer! Why the hell is he being so stupid?!
Kitty had plenty to say. She opened her mouth.
"Roland." Kitty started. Then she trailed off. Finally she stopped altogether and turned away. Forget it. Just forget it. Wasn't like he would listen anyway.
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
"Roland..."
He turned at hearing his companions voice. Kitty trailed off, but it was clear as day what she was thinking. Danger. And Roland was frankly agreeing. There was something about the girl, something incredibly off putting. Kitty had seen it, and Roland could as well. He had to think, had to make a choice.
The girl might need help. But Kitty's smarting enough from all that's happened so far. Remember Dave, remember Isabel. If Kitty leaves, you've accomplished next to nothing...
Roland locked eyes with Kitty and gave her a curt nod, he hoped she understood. Slowly, Roland raised his weapon, putting it in view of the new girl. He could feel his eyes narrow, and he hoped he could come off suitably menacing.
"Alright, Jackie. Listen. You've gotten rather bloodied up over these last couple days. You're going to tell me why. If I don't like your story, if it's a flat out lie... you're going to hit the trail. I think you know what I'd consider a bad story."
He paused, momentarily to compose himself.
This is dangerous, hell, this is crazy! Can I really do it, if she pushes me? Could I?
"Alternatively. I'm going to give you a chance. One chance. Walk away. Right now, if you already know what the outcome will be. Walk away Jackie."
Roland tensed, edging forward. He had the advantage. He prayed to God he wouldn't have to use it again. Robert was unsettling enough as is. Jackie?
Could I take killing a girl? Could I actually do this?
"Well?"
He turned at hearing his companions voice. Kitty trailed off, but it was clear as day what she was thinking. Danger. And Roland was frankly agreeing. There was something about the girl, something incredibly off putting. Kitty had seen it, and Roland could as well. He had to think, had to make a choice.
The girl might need help. But Kitty's smarting enough from all that's happened so far. Remember Dave, remember Isabel. If Kitty leaves, you've accomplished next to nothing...
Roland locked eyes with Kitty and gave her a curt nod, he hoped she understood. Slowly, Roland raised his weapon, putting it in view of the new girl. He could feel his eyes narrow, and he hoped he could come off suitably menacing.
"Alright, Jackie. Listen. You've gotten rather bloodied up over these last couple days. You're going to tell me why. If I don't like your story, if it's a flat out lie... you're going to hit the trail. I think you know what I'd consider a bad story."
He paused, momentarily to compose himself.
This is dangerous, hell, this is crazy! Can I really do it, if she pushes me? Could I?
"Alternatively. I'm going to give you a chance. One chance. Walk away. Right now, if you already know what the outcome will be. Walk away Jackie."
Roland tensed, edging forward. He had the advantage. He prayed to God he wouldn't have to use it again. Robert was unsettling enough as is. Jackie?
Could I take killing a girl? Could I actually do this?
"Well?"
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"Alright, Jackie. Listen. You've gotten rather bloodied up over these last couple days. You're going to tell me why. If I don't like your story, if it's a flat out lie... you're going to hit the trail. I think you know what I'd consider a bad story."
...He was actually giving her a chance. Granted, a chance she'd never be eligable for. Hell, she killed a girl in cold blood. But she'd changed! That didn't count for much on an island like this. She wished it did. But it never would. Actions mattered here. Intentions did not. The fact of the matter was, she committed cold blooded murder; she was a player whether she liked it or not. This boy obviously wanted nothing to do with her kind.
"Alternatively. I'm going to give you a chance. One chance. Walk away. Right now, if you already know what the outcome will be. Walk away Jackie."
She could lie. She could lie through her teeth, beg for forgiveness, or just say it's collateral. But wouldn't that be dishonoring Maria? She could give them her weapon, and ask them to give her a chance. No, that would look way too bad. She would look like she was guilty, but begging for repentance. But she was, in all reality. That's all it was. Or she could just walk away. Leave these poor people be, and wander off into the loneliness that is the forest. Alone with nothing but her thoughts and the voices in her head that she so vehemently refused to believe were real.
"Well?"
He was waiting for her response. Honesty was the best policy... Wasn't that how the old saying went?
"Well..." She sighed. This was going to suck, and she knew it. She knew he would tell her to go away, no other outcome was possible. She knew that she would be ostracized. A taste of what life would have been if she hadn't have stopped killing. If she had played to win. No one ever letting her stop, never enjoying the company of another again. A swath of pointless destruction in her wake. Everything lost, no humanity left.
"I... I killed a girl. I know you heard my name." She indicated with her head to the treetops, where she believed the source of the announcements laid. "I... I made a mistake. I just wanted to go home." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I snuck up on a girl and killed her... And in that moment..." Her voice choked up. "Then... I... I realized how horrible of a mistake it was. I don't want to do this anymore. I want things to go back to the way they were, I want to go home. I want someone to sit down and talk to without being judged, I want someone to be a companion. I just want a place I can rest and not feel like I need to flee." She didn't remember when, but she was on her knees. Pure emotion. She didn't have the strength to stand. Her body and soul longed for the affection she never cared for up until now. She wanted a pat on the head, a reassuring hug. Even an 'It's okay'.
She wasn't going to get that. She couldn't even raise her head to face her accuser who's name she did not know.
She only hoped that he would give her a chance to flee if acceptance was truly never possible.
...He was actually giving her a chance. Granted, a chance she'd never be eligable for. Hell, she killed a girl in cold blood. But she'd changed! That didn't count for much on an island like this. She wished it did. But it never would. Actions mattered here. Intentions did not. The fact of the matter was, she committed cold blooded murder; she was a player whether she liked it or not. This boy obviously wanted nothing to do with her kind.
"Alternatively. I'm going to give you a chance. One chance. Walk away. Right now, if you already know what the outcome will be. Walk away Jackie."
She could lie. She could lie through her teeth, beg for forgiveness, or just say it's collateral. But wouldn't that be dishonoring Maria? She could give them her weapon, and ask them to give her a chance. No, that would look way too bad. She would look like she was guilty, but begging for repentance. But she was, in all reality. That's all it was. Or she could just walk away. Leave these poor people be, and wander off into the loneliness that is the forest. Alone with nothing but her thoughts and the voices in her head that she so vehemently refused to believe were real.
"Well?"
He was waiting for her response. Honesty was the best policy... Wasn't that how the old saying went?
"Well..." She sighed. This was going to suck, and she knew it. She knew he would tell her to go away, no other outcome was possible. She knew that she would be ostracized. A taste of what life would have been if she hadn't have stopped killing. If she had played to win. No one ever letting her stop, never enjoying the company of another again. A swath of pointless destruction in her wake. Everything lost, no humanity left.
"I... I killed a girl. I know you heard my name." She indicated with her head to the treetops, where she believed the source of the announcements laid. "I... I made a mistake. I just wanted to go home." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I snuck up on a girl and killed her... And in that moment..." Her voice choked up. "Then... I... I realized how horrible of a mistake it was. I don't want to do this anymore. I want things to go back to the way they were, I want to go home. I want someone to sit down and talk to without being judged, I want someone to be a companion. I just want a place I can rest and not feel like I need to flee." She didn't remember when, but she was on her knees. Pure emotion. She didn't have the strength to stand. Her body and soul longed for the affection she never cared for up until now. She wanted a pat on the head, a reassuring hug. Even an 'It's okay'.
She wasn't going to get that. She couldn't even raise her head to face her accuser who's name she did not know.
She only hoped that he would give her a chance to flee if acceptance was truly never possible.
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It looked like Roland wasn't a complete idiot after all. He must have read her mind. Kitty didn't smile though. A child would have been wary around Jackie, so patting him on the back was a little too much. So Kitty turned to look at Jackie, the first killer that Kitty got to meet on a level that didn't require her to be flung into a stand... and while Kitty couldn't make out the girl's entire face, she knew for sure that this girl was crying. She told them about how she snuck up behind someone else and killed them, and about how much she regretted it...
She regretted it? Regretted the act of killing someone.
Fuck her.
Fuck her and her regrets. Kitty wasn't going to feel sorry someone who was playing the game. If she was going to give Jackie an apologetic hug, then she would have to give every other bastard on this island the same thing! She hated people like Jackie, the ones who go around crying about how they killed someone, how they felt so guilty. Boo hoo. It was a tad different if they didn't have a choice, but this was most definitely the case. It... reminded Kitty vaguely of Roland, but in spite of the similarities Kitty was willing to understand that... She sighed inside her head at the mere thought of sympathizing with Roland but... Roland had done it to protect someone, and that was a far cry from Jackie's circumstances. Besides, there were other options, ones that didn't require killing. As much as Kitty thought those choices only delayed the inevitable, they were choices nonetheless. Jackie should have thought of those first before taking someone's life, and that was the logic Kitty wanted to slap Jackie with...
And yet when she tried to chew Jackie out, she could bring herself to do it. Every fiber in her body knew that this girl was a serious threat and that she should be disposed. Putting a bullet in her head was a better solution than letting her into the group, for sure. And yet. And yet. Was it remorse? No, Kitty was long past feeling remorse for the killers here. It was mostly pity. Both words meant the exact same thing but to Kitty they were entirely different. She didn't feel a string of remorse for Jackie because Kitty didn't feel that there was any reason to do so. She pitied Jackie because she was crying, and Kitty couldn't go treating a crying girl like trash. Kitty... did have a heart, as much as desperately pretended not to notice.
It took her a minute to gather her thoughts, another minute to finally speak.
"Roland," she said, trying as hard as she possibly could to sound neutral. "What do you think?"
She regretted it? Regretted the act of killing someone.
Fuck her.
Fuck her and her regrets. Kitty wasn't going to feel sorry someone who was playing the game. If she was going to give Jackie an apologetic hug, then she would have to give every other bastard on this island the same thing! She hated people like Jackie, the ones who go around crying about how they killed someone, how they felt so guilty. Boo hoo. It was a tad different if they didn't have a choice, but this was most definitely the case. It... reminded Kitty vaguely of Roland, but in spite of the similarities Kitty was willing to understand that... She sighed inside her head at the mere thought of sympathizing with Roland but... Roland had done it to protect someone, and that was a far cry from Jackie's circumstances. Besides, there were other options, ones that didn't require killing. As much as Kitty thought those choices only delayed the inevitable, they were choices nonetheless. Jackie should have thought of those first before taking someone's life, and that was the logic Kitty wanted to slap Jackie with...
And yet when she tried to chew Jackie out, she could bring herself to do it. Every fiber in her body knew that this girl was a serious threat and that she should be disposed. Putting a bullet in her head was a better solution than letting her into the group, for sure. And yet. And yet. Was it remorse? No, Kitty was long past feeling remorse for the killers here. It was mostly pity. Both words meant the exact same thing but to Kitty they were entirely different. She didn't feel a string of remorse for Jackie because Kitty didn't feel that there was any reason to do so. She pitied Jackie because she was crying, and Kitty couldn't go treating a crying girl like trash. Kitty... did have a heart, as much as desperately pretended not to notice.
It took her a minute to gather her thoughts, another minute to finally speak.
"Roland," she said, trying as hard as she possibly could to sound neutral. "What do you think?"
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
As Jackie began to speak, Roland felt his heart turn black. He narrowed his eyes as he stared down Jackie, he could hear his molars grinding together. He didn't turn away from it, his anger. In fact he welcomed it, letting it build up inside. He imagined the moment, Jackie's victim. He wondered who it was. He wondered what she had looked like, what she had thought moments before the end. No sympathy. She deserved nothing. And he would give nothing.
What does she expect, telling me this? Does she really think I believe her remorse? Murderer. She's nothing but a murderer. I should gut her. I could. She's told me, bluntly, straight up what she's done, what she's capable of. Well I can sink to the same depths. It wouldn't be any problem. One less killer, one less monster on this earth.
Kitty was talking at his side, a rare occurrence.The girl had been near completely silent throughout the entire exchange. His eyes darted towards her, softening slightly. Who had this girl been, Jackie's victim? Roland had made note of remembering most of the killers, but it was obvious that this particular murder he'd either forgotten or missed. It couldn't be avoided, but it irritated him nevertheless. Roland couldn't let Jackie go with them, that much was obvious.
This girl, had she been like Kitty? Had she been minding her own business, not even expecting her death?
He let the white hot rage take hold of him entirely. He felt his muscles tighten and his fingers tingle. He looked down at his blade, watching the sunlight hit it, the light bouncing off it. He'd killed with this, exacted vengeance on a potential killer. It screamed to be used again.
What had she said, before she died? Did she cry? Did she struggle?
His anger was absolute. The world was his enemy and Danya was a scourge he would wipe from the earth. Danya would die screaming, along with all his cohorts, his supporters and the unwitting animals who'd fallen to his game. Jackie was nothing. Jackie was an animal. There was no time for pity, no reason to consider Jackie as anything other then another instrument. Roland felt his eyes narrow to slits. Somewhere a family was grieving their daughter, a senseless murder, an innocent victim. Raising his weapon, he pointed the blade towards Jackie.
"You've got five seconds to start running Jackie." Roland growled, stepping in front of Kitty. He doubted the girl would be stupid enough to try a run at him, but nevertheless he'd be damned if he'd let harm come to Kitty.
"That starts now."
What does she expect, telling me this? Does she really think I believe her remorse? Murderer. She's nothing but a murderer. I should gut her. I could. She's told me, bluntly, straight up what she's done, what she's capable of. Well I can sink to the same depths. It wouldn't be any problem. One less killer, one less monster on this earth.
Kitty was talking at his side, a rare occurrence.The girl had been near completely silent throughout the entire exchange. His eyes darted towards her, softening slightly. Who had this girl been, Jackie's victim? Roland had made note of remembering most of the killers, but it was obvious that this particular murder he'd either forgotten or missed. It couldn't be avoided, but it irritated him nevertheless. Roland couldn't let Jackie go with them, that much was obvious.
This girl, had she been like Kitty? Had she been minding her own business, not even expecting her death?
He let the white hot rage take hold of him entirely. He felt his muscles tighten and his fingers tingle. He looked down at his blade, watching the sunlight hit it, the light bouncing off it. He'd killed with this, exacted vengeance on a potential killer. It screamed to be used again.
What had she said, before she died? Did she cry? Did she struggle?
His anger was absolute. The world was his enemy and Danya was a scourge he would wipe from the earth. Danya would die screaming, along with all his cohorts, his supporters and the unwitting animals who'd fallen to his game. Jackie was nothing. Jackie was an animal. There was no time for pity, no reason to consider Jackie as anything other then another instrument. Roland felt his eyes narrow to slits. Somewhere a family was grieving their daughter, a senseless murder, an innocent victim. Raising his weapon, he pointed the blade towards Jackie.
"You've got five seconds to start running Jackie." Roland growled, stepping in front of Kitty. He doubted the girl would be stupid enough to try a run at him, but nevertheless he'd be damned if he'd let harm come to Kitty.
"That starts now."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Her eyes went wide at such a powerful declaration from the boy in front of him. She had expected it fully. On some level though, she apparently didn't quite mentally prepare herself for it. Then again, for someone in her mental state, preparation wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world.
"That starts now."
Involuntarily she stumbled backwards a few steps, a high pitched gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes darted both ways.
'I... I knew you wouldn't... No one will ever accept me again... I-it's for the best..."
She took a deep breath, her voice wavering as she did, making her sound so much more pitiful than someone such as her should ever be. For Roland and Kitty were completely right. She was nothing but an animal, a monster. This was the confirmation she needed. Her head was spinning as the gravity of her action once again caught up with her.
"I don't even know why I tried..." Her voice was becoming weak. The week's events were catching up to her, and her leg was beginning to hurt, much later on than it should of. The entire world was going in and out of focus, and voices... Those voices were coming back in the back of her head again.
"Those voices..."
They were faint, just as weak as she was beginning to feel. The glare on Roland's face which had just come back into focus of it's own said she had no right or reason to rest here.
"I-I'm so-sorry..." A tear pushed itself from her eye and to her cheek, and her wavering voice served only to push the facade of pity she was so involuntarily putting forth. It was more self-pity, self hatred. Yet as her mind began to shut down to cope with the forces of the world at work around her, she just looked more and more like she was trying to garner the pair's well wishes, their acceptance. Something she knew for a fact she would never have.
With that, and a long stumble she slowly began to limp off to the left, her weapon dangling against her leg, each painful slap from the cold steel a reminder as to what she had become. It was to serve as a ward, and she was even too stupid to remember that.
"Why did I try? I... I just brought more heartache and fear... That voice was right.
No purpose to her step, she just went. She had been given a chance she didn't deserve, a chance to leave. She wasn't going to give up something so gracious as Roland had offered. Through the mental; and physical pain, she left.
Slowly, but surely.
((Jacquard Broughten continued in When My Fist Clenches, Crack it Open.))
"That starts now."
Involuntarily she stumbled backwards a few steps, a high pitched gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes darted both ways.
'I... I knew you wouldn't... No one will ever accept me again... I-it's for the best..."
She took a deep breath, her voice wavering as she did, making her sound so much more pitiful than someone such as her should ever be. For Roland and Kitty were completely right. She was nothing but an animal, a monster. This was the confirmation she needed. Her head was spinning as the gravity of her action once again caught up with her.
"I don't even know why I tried..." Her voice was becoming weak. The week's events were catching up to her, and her leg was beginning to hurt, much later on than it should of. The entire world was going in and out of focus, and voices... Those voices were coming back in the back of her head again.
"Those voices..."
They were faint, just as weak as she was beginning to feel. The glare on Roland's face which had just come back into focus of it's own said she had no right or reason to rest here.
"I-I'm so-sorry..." A tear pushed itself from her eye and to her cheek, and her wavering voice served only to push the facade of pity she was so involuntarily putting forth. It was more self-pity, self hatred. Yet as her mind began to shut down to cope with the forces of the world at work around her, she just looked more and more like she was trying to garner the pair's well wishes, their acceptance. Something she knew for a fact she would never have.
With that, and a long stumble she slowly began to limp off to the left, her weapon dangling against her leg, each painful slap from the cold steel a reminder as to what she had become. It was to serve as a ward, and she was even too stupid to remember that.
"Why did I try? I... I just brought more heartache and fear... That voice was right.
No purpose to her step, she just went. She had been given a chance she didn't deserve, a chance to leave. She wasn't going to give up something so gracious as Roland had offered. Through the mental; and physical pain, she left.
Slowly, but surely.
((Jacquard Broughten continued in When My Fist Clenches, Crack it Open.))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
Roland breathed a sigh of relief as the girl disappeared through the brush, out of his line of sight. It had been tense goings for a few minutes there. He lowered his weapon, letting his anger fade away.
Calm Roland, calm. Someone else's problem, at least for now. You've got bigger things to consider. Kitty is safe and so are you. You need to get back on track, ASAP.
Roland 'sheathed' Charlene, sticking the sword through his belt loop. Running his hands through his greasy black hair (Seemingly a thousand times greasier given his current state) Roland turned to regard Kitty. The girl had backed him up, which when he considered it, was quite unexpected.
I'd have expected her to try to convince me otherwise... Looks like she's smarter then I gave her credit for. That's a relief.
"That was unpleasant." He said. The statement was blunt, but accurate. Jackie's tearful departure was harsh but necessary. Jackie had given into the game, turned into a murderer. No amount of begging or pleading would ever justify that. She had killed for herself, killed for selfish reasons. Had Danya made her a monster, or was she already one, waiting to happen? Roland didn't know, and there was no point on dwelling on the matter. He had more important matters to attend to. Primarily escaping the Island.
And how exactly do I plan on doing that?
No ideas had yet come to mind. With a sigh, Roland picked up his pack, shouldering it. He was growing nervous, eager to come up with a solution, anything. He looked at Kitty, a hint of approval in his eyes. The girl was strange, but she'd exceeded his expectations for a teammate thus far. She'd barely freaked out, barely said a word during the altercation with Jackie. Roland didn't know if it was due to fear or just knowing better.
"Look, we've wasted enough time. I don't want to have anyone like Jackie coming back. We need to keep on the move, gather some speed and some more members..."
Turning, Roland headed toward the edge of the clearing, before momentarily stopping. Turning, he waited for Kitty.
Might do me some good to stick close...
((Roland Harte continues in House of the Rising Sun))
Calm Roland, calm. Someone else's problem, at least for now. You've got bigger things to consider. Kitty is safe and so are you. You need to get back on track, ASAP.
Roland 'sheathed' Charlene, sticking the sword through his belt loop. Running his hands through his greasy black hair (Seemingly a thousand times greasier given his current state) Roland turned to regard Kitty. The girl had backed him up, which when he considered it, was quite unexpected.
I'd have expected her to try to convince me otherwise... Looks like she's smarter then I gave her credit for. That's a relief.
"That was unpleasant." He said. The statement was blunt, but accurate. Jackie's tearful departure was harsh but necessary. Jackie had given into the game, turned into a murderer. No amount of begging or pleading would ever justify that. She had killed for herself, killed for selfish reasons. Had Danya made her a monster, or was she already one, waiting to happen? Roland didn't know, and there was no point on dwelling on the matter. He had more important matters to attend to. Primarily escaping the Island.
And how exactly do I plan on doing that?
No ideas had yet come to mind. With a sigh, Roland picked up his pack, shouldering it. He was growing nervous, eager to come up with a solution, anything. He looked at Kitty, a hint of approval in his eyes. The girl was strange, but she'd exceeded his expectations for a teammate thus far. She'd barely freaked out, barely said a word during the altercation with Jackie. Roland didn't know if it was due to fear or just knowing better.
"Look, we've wasted enough time. I don't want to have anyone like Jackie coming back. We need to keep on the move, gather some speed and some more members..."
Turning, Roland headed toward the edge of the clearing, before momentarily stopping. Turning, he waited for Kitty.
Might do me some good to stick close...
((Roland Harte continues in House of the Rising Sun))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.