Toxic
Posted: Mon Sep 24, 2018 9:46 pm
((Blair Moore continued from Origin of Symmetry))
The constant companionship of death really puts things on their head, y'know? Like how going from yesterday morning until this afternoon without seeing anyone would normally be frustrating and depressing. Blair was hardly asocial, and she liked basic human interaction. At home, being sick for days would result in her relative isolation in her room, resigning her to chatrooms and Tumblr for her social life.
Now of course, being alone was a boon. She'd spent enough time musing about how isolation was a safer state here. If you never ran into anyone, you would probably be fine. So walking the long way around the island and ending up in the gardens again without saying anything to anyone was kind of nice from that perspective. She felt a little more at ease, honestly, though the ever-present paranoia that had developed led her to nervously bounce her gaze between any rustling foliage or oddly-shaped shadow.
She'd found herself hanging out on the side of the garden opposite of the chapel from Rene's body. Pragmatically, it meant she didn't have to put up with the decay, though in a sick and twisted sense some scientific curiosity might at one point have led her to scrutinize the corpse. But Rene had been her friend and companion, someone she'd grown fond of. Blair had killed her, at Rene's request but still, at the very least she could give her remains some privacy.
Of course, the drawback of the untamed colors of the gardens was that Blair was now all too aware that very large poisonous spiders could be found within, along with god knows what else. She'd been tempted to spend the night in the chapel, but the occasional noises from within made her nervous about its security. Sleeping under the willow tree with her own full back and the reluctantly-procured empty satchel from Rene ended up the most reassuring arrangement. At least, she hadn't died.
In a strange recursion, Johnny McKay was dead, which normally wouldn't have elicited great response from Blair except she'd seen him here when Rene died. She didn't think they'd even spoken, but it was still unsettling in that vague, coincidental way. It just lined up neatly, and that wasn't right.
The willow tree was admittedly lovely, and Blair had managed to find a comfortable sleeping position. She'd left the SMG from Scout next to her, within arm's reach but not directly under her. After waking up, Blair found herself extremely sore, alleviated slightly by some rigorous stretching. She rubbed her eyes and started eating some of her remaining rations. She had enough for two more days, but probably no more. She hadn't been dealing with awful hunger or anything, but by now she was pretty sure she'd lost some weight. Which might've been nice if she wasn't already stupidly scrawny. 5'4" and like, less than 100 pounds? Not good.
Blair finished up the food bar and started returning the majority of her dwindling supplies into her bag. She left the SMG, of course, and forced a couple of clips into her pocket. That was a small comfort at least; she had baggier clothing from not eating enough for over a week. Hmm, that was probably why the prizes included food.
As she was about to move, she spotted movement nearby. Startled, Blair raised the gun, but paused when she lost track of it. Had she been seeing things? God, as if there wasn't enough shit to deal with-oh shit!
The giant fucking spider had started darting towards her, and Blair pulled the trigger of the MAC-10. The recoil caught her off-guard, but luckily(?) she'd forgotten to put it on safety, so one moment and four bullets later there was no spider. Blair sighed and adjusted her shoulder strap.
Ugh. Time to go. Fucking murder bugs. 'Cause she needed the wildlife here to try to fuck her up too.
The constant companionship of death really puts things on their head, y'know? Like how going from yesterday morning until this afternoon without seeing anyone would normally be frustrating and depressing. Blair was hardly asocial, and she liked basic human interaction. At home, being sick for days would result in her relative isolation in her room, resigning her to chatrooms and Tumblr for her social life.
Now of course, being alone was a boon. She'd spent enough time musing about how isolation was a safer state here. If you never ran into anyone, you would probably be fine. So walking the long way around the island and ending up in the gardens again without saying anything to anyone was kind of nice from that perspective. She felt a little more at ease, honestly, though the ever-present paranoia that had developed led her to nervously bounce her gaze between any rustling foliage or oddly-shaped shadow.
She'd found herself hanging out on the side of the garden opposite of the chapel from Rene's body. Pragmatically, it meant she didn't have to put up with the decay, though in a sick and twisted sense some scientific curiosity might at one point have led her to scrutinize the corpse. But Rene had been her friend and companion, someone she'd grown fond of. Blair had killed her, at Rene's request but still, at the very least she could give her remains some privacy.
Of course, the drawback of the untamed colors of the gardens was that Blair was now all too aware that very large poisonous spiders could be found within, along with god knows what else. She'd been tempted to spend the night in the chapel, but the occasional noises from within made her nervous about its security. Sleeping under the willow tree with her own full back and the reluctantly-procured empty satchel from Rene ended up the most reassuring arrangement. At least, she hadn't died.
In a strange recursion, Johnny McKay was dead, which normally wouldn't have elicited great response from Blair except she'd seen him here when Rene died. She didn't think they'd even spoken, but it was still unsettling in that vague, coincidental way. It just lined up neatly, and that wasn't right.
The willow tree was admittedly lovely, and Blair had managed to find a comfortable sleeping position. She'd left the SMG from Scout next to her, within arm's reach but not directly under her. After waking up, Blair found herself extremely sore, alleviated slightly by some rigorous stretching. She rubbed her eyes and started eating some of her remaining rations. She had enough for two more days, but probably no more. She hadn't been dealing with awful hunger or anything, but by now she was pretty sure she'd lost some weight. Which might've been nice if she wasn't already stupidly scrawny. 5'4" and like, less than 100 pounds? Not good.
Blair finished up the food bar and started returning the majority of her dwindling supplies into her bag. She left the SMG, of course, and forced a couple of clips into her pocket. That was a small comfort at least; she had baggier clothing from not eating enough for over a week. Hmm, that was probably why the prizes included food.
As she was about to move, she spotted movement nearby. Startled, Blair raised the gun, but paused when she lost track of it. Had she been seeing things? God, as if there wasn't enough shit to deal with-oh shit!
The giant fucking spider had started darting towards her, and Blair pulled the trigger of the MAC-10. The recoil caught her off-guard, but luckily(?) she'd forgotten to put it on safety, so one moment and four bullets later there was no spider. Blair sighed and adjusted her shoulder strap.
Ugh. Time to go. Fucking murder bugs. 'Cause she needed the wildlife here to try to fuck her up too.