((Junko Kurosawa continued from Bread Suit))
"So... I'd bet the rest of my supplies if it turned out you died because you pissed someone off. Was that it? Was that what happened?"
Darius said nothing.
Junko frowned.
Yeah, she'd gone into this little office area earlier, and, y'know, looked around. The first room she looked in, there wasn't anything really all that noteworthy. Second time was largely the same, though Junko had looked through one of the photo albums on the self. Purely for shits and giggles, she guessed. It went straight back when she saw a specific picture. "Happy 50th?" 50th what? Eye gouging? That's what it looked like, at least. What kind of place did their oh-so-lovely captors take them? Was this really one of those mental asylums? Maybe a doctor guy really was going to cut off her fingers. Made sense, really.
Third room had an odd smell. A familiar smell. Yet, like an idiot, she had to look. That's when she found Darius. Or, at least, what was left of him. She was sure it was Darius, though. Half his face was missing, but she could recognize what's left and that green streak any day. He'd given her a pretty good jump. Her heart was still pounding from that split second she first saw him.
Junko tilted her head to the side. It wasn't a pretty sight. Wasn't a nice smell, either. It seemed "fresh", like it happened not too long before she got here. For a second, Mr. Graham came back. Those last few moments of struggling, the look on his face when he realized what was about to happen. For another second, Mr. Graham became Darius. He made the same look, made the same struggle, before his life was extinguished. Without realizing it, Junko took a step back.
Once those thoughts left as quickly as they arrived, she smiled. It hurt a little.
"Whatever you did, you probably deserved it."
That's the best way of putting it. Darius was living on borrowed time, wasn't he? He pissed her off first thing, it was only a matter of time before someone shot him. In a way, it was only surprising that it didn't happen sooner.
Junko stopped smiling, and turned. She didn't want to stare at Darius' body anymore. And yet, she had to give him one last look. Her face was like stone, but she had one more thing to say.
"Good riddance."
It seemed callous to say that, but only for a few seconds. Junko decided not to dwell on that. Darius was dead. He most likely did something. What, she didn't know, but the announcement was coming... soon. She wasn't sure when "soon" was, but soon. It was morning already. She still needed to stretch out her limbs a bit more. Sleeping on the floor of the asylum hadn't been nice. Then again, most sleeping spots here were terrible. Anything for a bed, damn it. But announcements were "soon." Danya was probably going to confirm or deny it in some way or another.
After she left the room, Junko exhaled. Then, she fished out her sunglasses. There was no bright light, but she felt like she need them. She slid them onto her face, and stepped away from the room.
Next office, perhaps? It didn't seem like there were any other bodies, other than the one. That room had a bed, and so did the other one, so maybe there was another elsewhere. Which was good, because again, sleeping on the floor sucked. Maybe she'd look at one that was farther away from the smell.
Idiot Launch
The morning before the Fourth Announcement
Jonathan Gulley continued from This time I might just disappear ))
Another day of nothing done. Jonathan just felt confused and exhausted. He didn't know where anyone went. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know where he was at. He didn't know anything...
He tried to check the radio tower now that it was open, but gunfire stopped him. He watched from a distance as a girl shot another classmate off of her, before he decided it was a good idea to leave. He ended up on the other side of the island. It was too late to turn around, and he was just too tired to do anything. He needed to rest, to eat something, he was starving, and he was sure he forgot about food for the entire day.
There were footsteps in the distance, but Jonathan didn't care. He just needed to sleep. He needed some rest. He needed to think.
He turned into the closest room he could, before something horrible showed up. First the smell hit him. Then it was the sprawled out legs in the corner of his eyes. There was something familiar about the legs as he moved closer. It hit him once he saw the jacket. Oh no. No, you didn't....
Blood. A lot of it.
It painted the ground. The fur collar. The fac- wait...
WHAT FACE?!!
"Oh my god! Darius, what the fuck?!"
Jonathan ran towards him, his mouth covered with his hand.
"Aw, Jeez, no, w-what the fuck? W-what happened?"
He crouched by Darius, in a panic. Frantically, he tried thinking of a way to save him, t-that the bullet missed something important and that he was still alive, even if his face was gone and he-
Jonathan sat on his knees and stared.
This is what happens when you slack off. You could've stuck with him. You'd have been able to escape. Everyone could've. You had to leave him behind.
Another day of nothing done. Jonathan just felt confused and exhausted. He didn't know where anyone went. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know where he was at. He didn't know anything...
He tried to check the radio tower now that it was open, but gunfire stopped him. He watched from a distance as a girl shot another classmate off of her, before he decided it was a good idea to leave. He ended up on the other side of the island. It was too late to turn around, and he was just too tired to do anything. He needed to rest, to eat something, he was starving, and he was sure he forgot about food for the entire day.
There were footsteps in the distance, but Jonathan didn't care. He just needed to sleep. He needed some rest. He needed to think.
He turned into the closest room he could, before something horrible showed up. First the smell hit him. Then it was the sprawled out legs in the corner of his eyes. There was something familiar about the legs as he moved closer. It hit him once he saw the jacket. Oh no. No, you didn't....
Blood. A lot of it.
It painted the ground. The fur collar. The fac- wait...
WHAT FACE?!!
"Oh my god! Darius, what the fuck?!"
Jonathan ran towards him, his mouth covered with his hand.
"Aw, Jeez, no, w-what the fuck? W-what happened?"
He crouched by Darius, in a panic. Frantically, he tried thinking of a way to save him, t-that the bullet missed something important and that he was still alive, even if his face was gone and he-
Jonathan sat on his knees and stared.
This is what happens when you slack off. You could've stuck with him. You'd have been able to escape. Everyone could've. You had to leave him behind.
((Maxim Kehlenbrink continued from Song For a Warrior))
There was something to be said for inadvertent survival. That was how Maxim felt right now - inadvertent.
He hadn't seen anyone for what must have been three days. He was with Benjamin, the good Benjamin, they were traveling together, when suddenly there was a calvacade of shouting on the slopes they had passed by. There was a girl Maxim recognized on sight as Kimiko, a girl who was now a dangerous marauding murderer, and Maxim did the sensible thing, the thing that should have made sense and did so very much at the time, and ran back to where they came. He didn't stop, no matter how much his chest heaved and his unused muscles burned, but eventually Maxim returned to the place from whence they came and suddenly he was alone. Benjamin was gone.
And he had all that time to think. Just think about what Cristo's death actually meant in the grand scheme of things, what all the other deaths meant as well. They of course meant that people he once shared hallways and classes and altercations with no longer existed, but it also meant, for every name on that announcement, there was one less monster going for his head.
As long as Maxim told himself that, everything would be fine.
So that was why he hid. That was why he stayed in the Dormitories until the voices stopped, then changed to another location, until that location was consumed by voices. He was alone with his thoughts, which is how he liked it. With all the external factors removed from the equation of Maxim, the margin of error reached near zero. But there became a point when his thoughts stopped becoming helpful and started becoming intrusive.
First he was rounding his own thoughts. Nothing new was coming. No plans, no entry point, nothing. Maxim didn't know why - he was smart, wasn't he? Why wasn't his mind racing with the possibilities? Why wasn't he coming up with a perfectly new prospect each hour, like he managed to do when he was with Ben or Lilli or Ben or the two girls from the very first day? If he could think them amongst the droning whimpering idiots who still remained alive, why was his mind now destroying itself trying to come up with anything, just anything?
Worse yet, he was constantly thinking about Cristo. About how even though had obviously done something wrong, done something to warrant his death at the hands of a long aforementioned marauding murderer, and it was his own blöd fault he was dead, that they were never going to speak again. For every situation he encountered and wondered "what would Cristo do here?", there would be no answer because the world would never know because Cristo was dead and the marauding murderer got a weapon for it.
The sun was setting on Day 4 when those thoughts entered Maxim's mind, and without warning his vomited the contents of his stomach onto the front of his clothes.
Even though he was alone, a knot twisted in his stomach as he sat there in the ward, covered in his own bile and puke. The knot was not from the pain that had influenced the reaction in the first place, it was from the shame. He looked disgusting. He looked like a disgusting little brat who had yet to reach Kindergarten. He looked like he belonged among the dead already, not like he deserved.
He didn't change from his clothes. He just sat and waited for the sogginess to turn to crust and the smell to cease invading his nostrils and he could do nothing more from that point but fall asleep.
*
When Maxim awoke, hidden behind the overturned bed, he saw it was light. He hadn't missed an announcement. The light did not match the previous days and their own announcements, which was all the consistency he had remaining in his mind. He collected his belongings, including the meager rations of food he had left and the disgusting bow with its similarly disgusting arrows, and moved on.
The more he walked, the wards turned into corridors, administration. There were no longer beds, but offices. He was where the doctors stayed, not the patients.
The stench was unbearable. Everywhere Maxim moved, he could barely escape it. Eventually, he found a path away, forcing himself into a dead-end office with a single examination bed. The smell remained, but it was distant. Lingering, but distant.
Maxim sat upon the bed, bag curled into his chest. He looked at his feet. They were sore, tired, wishing there would be less to do, less miles to walk before they could sleep. It was ironic, Maxim once enjoyed walking, now it pained him. It was something he no longer enjoyed.
As he sat looking at his feet, he heard a loud voice echo throughout the halls. It was questioning. It was in despair. Maxim wanted to avoid it, not go near it.
But suddenly, his gaze shot up. Someone had opened the door.
There was something to be said for inadvertent survival. That was how Maxim felt right now - inadvertent.
He hadn't seen anyone for what must have been three days. He was with Benjamin, the good Benjamin, they were traveling together, when suddenly there was a calvacade of shouting on the slopes they had passed by. There was a girl Maxim recognized on sight as Kimiko, a girl who was now a dangerous marauding murderer, and Maxim did the sensible thing, the thing that should have made sense and did so very much at the time, and ran back to where they came. He didn't stop, no matter how much his chest heaved and his unused muscles burned, but eventually Maxim returned to the place from whence they came and suddenly he was alone. Benjamin was gone.
And he had all that time to think. Just think about what Cristo's death actually meant in the grand scheme of things, what all the other deaths meant as well. They of course meant that people he once shared hallways and classes and altercations with no longer existed, but it also meant, for every name on that announcement, there was one less monster going for his head.
As long as Maxim told himself that, everything would be fine.
So that was why he hid. That was why he stayed in the Dormitories until the voices stopped, then changed to another location, until that location was consumed by voices. He was alone with his thoughts, which is how he liked it. With all the external factors removed from the equation of Maxim, the margin of error reached near zero. But there became a point when his thoughts stopped becoming helpful and started becoming intrusive.
First he was rounding his own thoughts. Nothing new was coming. No plans, no entry point, nothing. Maxim didn't know why - he was smart, wasn't he? Why wasn't his mind racing with the possibilities? Why wasn't he coming up with a perfectly new prospect each hour, like he managed to do when he was with Ben or Lilli or Ben or the two girls from the very first day? If he could think them amongst the droning whimpering idiots who still remained alive, why was his mind now destroying itself trying to come up with anything, just anything?
Worse yet, he was constantly thinking about Cristo. About how even though had obviously done something wrong, done something to warrant his death at the hands of a long aforementioned marauding murderer, and it was his own blöd fault he was dead, that they were never going to speak again. For every situation he encountered and wondered "what would Cristo do here?", there would be no answer because the world would never know because Cristo was dead and the marauding murderer got a weapon for it.
The sun was setting on Day 4 when those thoughts entered Maxim's mind, and without warning his vomited the contents of his stomach onto the front of his clothes.
Even though he was alone, a knot twisted in his stomach as he sat there in the ward, covered in his own bile and puke. The knot was not from the pain that had influenced the reaction in the first place, it was from the shame. He looked disgusting. He looked like a disgusting little brat who had yet to reach Kindergarten. He looked like he belonged among the dead already, not like he deserved.
He didn't change from his clothes. He just sat and waited for the sogginess to turn to crust and the smell to cease invading his nostrils and he could do nothing more from that point but fall asleep.
*
When Maxim awoke, hidden behind the overturned bed, he saw it was light. He hadn't missed an announcement. The light did not match the previous days and their own announcements, which was all the consistency he had remaining in his mind. He collected his belongings, including the meager rations of food he had left and the disgusting bow with its similarly disgusting arrows, and moved on.
The more he walked, the wards turned into corridors, administration. There were no longer beds, but offices. He was where the doctors stayed, not the patients.
The stench was unbearable. Everywhere Maxim moved, he could barely escape it. Eventually, he found a path away, forcing himself into a dead-end office with a single examination bed. The smell remained, but it was distant. Lingering, but distant.
Maxim sat upon the bed, bag curled into his chest. He looked at his feet. They were sore, tired, wishing there would be less to do, less miles to walk before they could sleep. It was ironic, Maxim once enjoyed walking, now it pained him. It was something he no longer enjoyed.
As he sat looking at his feet, he heard a loud voice echo throughout the halls. It was questioning. It was in despair. Maxim wanted to avoid it, not go near it.
But suddenly, his gaze shot up. Someone had opened the door.
Sometime later, Junko reached for another door, trying to get away from the smell and sights. But, as she grabbed one doorknob, she saw a sight.
Okay, so... Maxim. Yeah. Kind of introverted guy, kinda artsy. Sitting on the bed kinda like... you know what? She didn't even know. Just that he was sitting there, looking depressed as all out, and then... she came along. Junko tilted her head to the side. Didn't he, like, do something at a party? Kissed a dude or something? It was the sort of thing that got murky from all the high school rumors, but if it was true... on one hand, Ben was an asshole and the biggest hypocrite at school. "Anti-bullying," her rainbow-colored ass. On the other... kissing people who don't want it is a no-no. Of course, she had no way of telling whether the truth was distorted in some way, so... everything was vague. She wasn't there, so she had no idea if it was made up or exaggerated.
Wasn't on the announcements, though. Her eyes flicked up and down. Did he have a weapon? Didn't see one. It was kind of dark, though, so maybe she needed the flashlight again. Junko became aware of the bat in her hand. Maybe she could get more food off him? Maybe she could fight him if he tried something? Or-
Or someone could shout in the distance! That could work too.
Yeah, someone was shouting. It was faint, and she couldn't make out the words. But still, shouting. Junko looked back and forth, between Maxim and the direction the noise came from. Investigate noise, deal with Maxim. Noise, Maxim. Which could she pick? Well, Maxim was here, so she might as well deal with him first.
Announcements picked for her, though.
A deep sigh. She didn't even exercise this morning. Well, she did run up here, sorta. But she didn't jog, or do sit-ups, or stretches, or anything. Damn, what a time to remember, huh? Find a douche's dead body, find a German, hear shouting, Announcements. Junko leaned her back against the door, but she didn't let Maxim out of her sight. For all she knew, he was responsible for what happened in the other room.
She wasn't as focused this time, but she got some details. Leslie was gone, maybe she went rage-bomb on Nancy. Yup, that sounds like her thing. Tara, too, was gone. Apparently, she tried to remove her collar or something? Fool, no one can remove the collars, especially not with... fire, by the sound of things? Yeah, she was still trying to wrap her brain around Tara's mentality. She probably wasn't ever going to find out, now that she was, y'know, dead.
And, confirmed. Darius apparently did something to piss William McKinley off, and got a bullet in response. He didn't seem to learn his lesson from the first day, so she guessed he, again, was asking for it. Okay, so Will was kind of a douche himself, but eh, you know. Darius getting killed was bound to happen someday, right? No use getting upset over it. Again, good riddance and all that.
A few more names, and the announcements went silent. Junko kept her eyes on Maxim. Then:
"So... I know you didn't make that mess in the other room. You know that I didn't, either."
She nodded her head towards the direction the noise came from.
"And I don't know about you, but that shouting? It sounded about as Scottish as a cowboy."
Once again, she had no idea where she was going with this. Maybe she could take his things, run. Or something. God, she needed to come up with an actual plan sometimes. Well, at least it wasn't a danger zone? If they'd declared it as such, someone would die. She wasn't sure who, but... someone. She'd just be that pissed. Okay, maybe literally, maybe figuratively. Sometimes it was hard to tell here. Anyways, she had the bat for a reason, and whatever job it needed to do, it could do it.
Okay, so... Maxim. Yeah. Kind of introverted guy, kinda artsy. Sitting on the bed kinda like... you know what? She didn't even know. Just that he was sitting there, looking depressed as all out, and then... she came along. Junko tilted her head to the side. Didn't he, like, do something at a party? Kissed a dude or something? It was the sort of thing that got murky from all the high school rumors, but if it was true... on one hand, Ben was an asshole and the biggest hypocrite at school. "Anti-bullying," her rainbow-colored ass. On the other... kissing people who don't want it is a no-no. Of course, she had no way of telling whether the truth was distorted in some way, so... everything was vague. She wasn't there, so she had no idea if it was made up or exaggerated.
Wasn't on the announcements, though. Her eyes flicked up and down. Did he have a weapon? Didn't see one. It was kind of dark, though, so maybe she needed the flashlight again. Junko became aware of the bat in her hand. Maybe she could get more food off him? Maybe she could fight him if he tried something? Or-
Or someone could shout in the distance! That could work too.
Yeah, someone was shouting. It was faint, and she couldn't make out the words. But still, shouting. Junko looked back and forth, between Maxim and the direction the noise came from. Investigate noise, deal with Maxim. Noise, Maxim. Which could she pick? Well, Maxim was here, so she might as well deal with him first.
Announcements picked for her, though.
A deep sigh. She didn't even exercise this morning. Well, she did run up here, sorta. But she didn't jog, or do sit-ups, or stretches, or anything. Damn, what a time to remember, huh? Find a douche's dead body, find a German, hear shouting, Announcements. Junko leaned her back against the door, but she didn't let Maxim out of her sight. For all she knew, he was responsible for what happened in the other room.
She wasn't as focused this time, but she got some details. Leslie was gone, maybe she went rage-bomb on Nancy. Yup, that sounds like her thing. Tara, too, was gone. Apparently, she tried to remove her collar or something? Fool, no one can remove the collars, especially not with... fire, by the sound of things? Yeah, she was still trying to wrap her brain around Tara's mentality. She probably wasn't ever going to find out, now that she was, y'know, dead.
And, confirmed. Darius apparently did something to piss William McKinley off, and got a bullet in response. He didn't seem to learn his lesson from the first day, so she guessed he, again, was asking for it. Okay, so Will was kind of a douche himself, but eh, you know. Darius getting killed was bound to happen someday, right? No use getting upset over it. Again, good riddance and all that.
A few more names, and the announcements went silent. Junko kept her eyes on Maxim. Then:
"So... I know you didn't make that mess in the other room. You know that I didn't, either."
She nodded her head towards the direction the noise came from.
"And I don't know about you, but that shouting? It sounded about as Scottish as a cowboy."
Once again, she had no idea where she was going with this. Maybe she could take his things, run. Or something. God, she needed to come up with an actual plan sometimes. Well, at least it wasn't a danger zone? If they'd declared it as such, someone would die. She wasn't sure who, but... someone. She'd just be that pissed. Okay, maybe literally, maybe figuratively. Sometimes it was hard to tell here. Anyways, she had the bat for a reason, and whatever job it needed to do, it could do it.
-
Yugikun
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He was exhausted.
((Jeremy Frasier, continued from Noland the Liar))
Breathing. Panting. Moving. Jeremy Frasier took his steps through the hallway he had found himself in. His chest hurt, his legs were screaming at him to stop, but he kept on moving forward. Through the hallway, then hopefully up the stairs if they happened to be here. Get up to the roof, and then wait. Yeah. That was the plan. Hopefully he’d be the first to get there. There was this whole thing he noticed with himself back then when he tended to be the first to get to class whenever the bell rang, so admittedly he’d want to keep that whole thing going as long as he could. Jeremy would still be the fastest kid in the school, right now as well as back then.
…
Ha.
Back then.
Been a bit since he had thought about that.
He slowed. Kept trying to move forward. He had mentioned the rooftop, on his note. That’s where him and Hazel and Jordan were supposed to meet up. Well, ideally at least. No real way to tell what they thought of him randomly ditching them. But, in the case that they somehow were okay with it, he had to get up there. His breath was short at this point from moving around the island, and his chest and legs hurt and he seriously wasn’t sure how much longer he could go, but he’d felt this before so he was fine and as soon as he got there he’d-
He tried to breathe in.
He couldn’t.
Again.
He couldn’t.
Oh god he couldn’t breathe and oh god it hurt and oh god he couldn’t move he had to stop he had to breathe he had to fucking rest for a bit but he had to move and he had to go forward and he had to get up to the rooftop but he couldn’t he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t move and
There was a door in front of him. A room. He’d be safe there.
He stepped forward, put his hand out. Knob. Open. Move. Close. He was inside now. He looked around.
Nobody here.
That was good.
His body moved forward. Stumbled. Stopped. He leaned forward. Clutched his knees.
He was alone.
He could breathe.
There was a whole world out there, one of people he knew fighting and killing. His friends were out there. He knew that. He had to find them, as soon as possible.
But he could forget about that, for a moment.
All he needed to do right now was breathe.
((Jeremy Frasier, continued from Noland the Liar))
Breathing. Panting. Moving. Jeremy Frasier took his steps through the hallway he had found himself in. His chest hurt, his legs were screaming at him to stop, but he kept on moving forward. Through the hallway, then hopefully up the stairs if they happened to be here. Get up to the roof, and then wait. Yeah. That was the plan. Hopefully he’d be the first to get there. There was this whole thing he noticed with himself back then when he tended to be the first to get to class whenever the bell rang, so admittedly he’d want to keep that whole thing going as long as he could. Jeremy would still be the fastest kid in the school, right now as well as back then.
…
Ha.
Back then.
Been a bit since he had thought about that.
He slowed. Kept trying to move forward. He had mentioned the rooftop, on his note. That’s where him and Hazel and Jordan were supposed to meet up. Well, ideally at least. No real way to tell what they thought of him randomly ditching them. But, in the case that they somehow were okay with it, he had to get up there. His breath was short at this point from moving around the island, and his chest and legs hurt and he seriously wasn’t sure how much longer he could go, but he’d felt this before so he was fine and as soon as he got there he’d-
He tried to breathe in.
He couldn’t.
Again.
He couldn’t.
Oh god he couldn’t breathe and oh god it hurt and oh god he couldn’t move he had to stop he had to breathe he had to fucking rest for a bit but he had to move and he had to go forward and he had to get up to the rooftop but he couldn’t he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t move and
There was a door in front of him. A room. He’d be safe there.
He stepped forward, put his hand out. Knob. Open. Move. Close. He was inside now. He looked around.
Nobody here.
That was good.
His body moved forward. Stumbled. Stopped. He leaned forward. Clutched his knees.
He was alone.
He could breathe.
There was a whole world out there, one of people he knew fighting and killing. His friends were out there. He knew that. He had to find them, as soon as possible.
But he could forget about that, for a moment.
All he needed to do right now was breathe.
The girl looked at Maxim. Rather, she scanned him. He felt her eyes look him up and down, from worn out feet to vomit soaked shirt to disheveled flaxen hair. He felt violated by this girl, and she hadn't even done anything. Their eyes caught. The intensity gnawed a pit in Maxim's stomach as he sat there, just wanting to disappear again.
That was before he even took in the baseball bat hanging in her hand.
His eyes narrowed. He did not like to jump to conclusions, but there was something off here. Like he was in danger. Like this girl was a danger to him, even though it did not look that way at first glance. He had spent several days fending off the all encompassing stench of loneliness that his reaction was probably justified in his own mind. When the last person he saw before this girl was Kimiko Kao, who had since gone on to kill even more people, it behoved Maxim to think responsibly, especially when this person was an unknown variable.
But now there came several more. There was a shouting in the distance. Nobody Maxim recognized, although given the scarce amount of people he even knew and cared to remember from Cochise that was not nearly saying anything. And yet, the two in that office remained silent, staring at each other.
The more she just stood there, staring at him, before losing his gaze to the voice in the distance, the more Maxim realized how little control he had here. He needed control, control over what he could do and how he could do it, in order to survive, but with this girl here with dominion left him without choice. She stood there with the reigns.
Then the announcements came. Many more dead, but all the names he knew were absent. Lichter, Lili, Fields, all alive and all lacking a murder to their names. It was easy to pretend, even to himself, that the names that waifted by did not mean anything, especially if those names were of his friends, but even a list of names with no faces to match did nothing to soothe the roaring knot that threatened to consume his stomach.
Maxim scratched his face. Felt little follicles of hair scraped under his fingernails around his jowls and mouth. He waited for the confirmation that he didn't have to get up and run, at least not from the collar around his neck, and when that passed, he let out a sharp exhalation.
It was then the girl started to talk to him. Or rather, at him. She held no equity in her voice, nothing that suggested he would be treated with any of the same kindness that was extended to him by Benjamin or Lili, or even the fleeting false sincerity of Nadia. She was an officer, digging for answers.
But answers Maxim truly had no idea of.
"I... I am sorry, I do not know what you mean by... Scottish cowboy?"
He felt stupid, like there was some intricacy of the English language he was still missing, even at this late point in his life. But he followed his own question up.
"Do you need... help?"
Maxim had no intention of helping her. But he needed a leg up.
That was before he even took in the baseball bat hanging in her hand.
His eyes narrowed. He did not like to jump to conclusions, but there was something off here. Like he was in danger. Like this girl was a danger to him, even though it did not look that way at first glance. He had spent several days fending off the all encompassing stench of loneliness that his reaction was probably justified in his own mind. When the last person he saw before this girl was Kimiko Kao, who had since gone on to kill even more people, it behoved Maxim to think responsibly, especially when this person was an unknown variable.
But now there came several more. There was a shouting in the distance. Nobody Maxim recognized, although given the scarce amount of people he even knew and cared to remember from Cochise that was not nearly saying anything. And yet, the two in that office remained silent, staring at each other.
The more she just stood there, staring at him, before losing his gaze to the voice in the distance, the more Maxim realized how little control he had here. He needed control, control over what he could do and how he could do it, in order to survive, but with this girl here with dominion left him without choice. She stood there with the reigns.
Then the announcements came. Many more dead, but all the names he knew were absent. Lichter, Lili, Fields, all alive and all lacking a murder to their names. It was easy to pretend, even to himself, that the names that waifted by did not mean anything, especially if those names were of his friends, but even a list of names with no faces to match did nothing to soothe the roaring knot that threatened to consume his stomach.
Maxim scratched his face. Felt little follicles of hair scraped under his fingernails around his jowls and mouth. He waited for the confirmation that he didn't have to get up and run, at least not from the collar around his neck, and when that passed, he let out a sharp exhalation.
It was then the girl started to talk to him. Or rather, at him. She held no equity in her voice, nothing that suggested he would be treated with any of the same kindness that was extended to him by Benjamin or Lili, or even the fleeting false sincerity of Nadia. She was an officer, digging for answers.
But answers Maxim truly had no idea of.
"I... I am sorry, I do not know what you mean by... Scottish cowboy?"
He felt stupid, like there was some intricacy of the English language he was still missing, even at this late point in his life. But he followed his own question up.
"Do you need... help?"
Maxim had no intention of helping her. But he needed a leg up.
((Posting ahead for deathz))
He... took that literally, didn't he? The joke here was that cowboys were the least Scottish thing out there. There was no such thing as a Scottish cowboy, was there? Maybe there was, but she'd never heard of one. But, joke was ruined, even if it was barely funny to begin with. Damn it. Ah, well. Ruined jokes weren't the worst that could happen here.
Junko frowned.
"Help?"
But she smiled again. Maybe he could help, in some way. More supplies couldn't hurt. Maybe he had something special, too. What, she didn't know, but he could surprise her. Maybe he had something other than awful bread. Gummy worms, maybe? Nah, don't count on it.
Once again, there were noises, just lurking in the background. Junko's smile faltered for a few seconds. Same person? Maybe. Someone was... doing something. But what, though? What sort of activity involved shouting and running around at full blast? Was someone being attacked? Nah, didn't sound like it.
"Actually, you know what? You can help by staying here and... looking pretty, I guess?"
Maxim didn't look pretty. It was hard to, with disheveled hair and vomit all over your clothes. Looked like he hadn't had a shave in a while, too, but then again, she'd be surprised if there were razors and cream here.
"But yeah, I'm going to find out what that was. I'll be back in a sec, probs."
With that, Junko's free hand pointed at her eyes, then back at Maxim. Maybe he'd take the opportunity to leave, or maybe to attack her. She hoped he didn't. It'd suck for him if he did try something. Junko moved from the door, and stepped towards the direction the sound came from. She wondered if this was a good idea. Maybe Will was still here after all. Maybe it was Alvaro, or Isabel, or Nancy. Hell, maybe it was Caedyn, but- oh shit, that's right. She's supposed to be off to get an award thing. Huh.
Right away, Junko saw a door close. She felt herself tense up. But her lips curled again.
Her bat gently hit the door twice.
"Knock knock."
He... took that literally, didn't he? The joke here was that cowboys were the least Scottish thing out there. There was no such thing as a Scottish cowboy, was there? Maybe there was, but she'd never heard of one. But, joke was ruined, even if it was barely funny to begin with. Damn it. Ah, well. Ruined jokes weren't the worst that could happen here.
Junko frowned.
"Help?"
But she smiled again. Maybe he could help, in some way. More supplies couldn't hurt. Maybe he had something special, too. What, she didn't know, but he could surprise her. Maybe he had something other than awful bread. Gummy worms, maybe? Nah, don't count on it.
Once again, there were noises, just lurking in the background. Junko's smile faltered for a few seconds. Same person? Maybe. Someone was... doing something. But what, though? What sort of activity involved shouting and running around at full blast? Was someone being attacked? Nah, didn't sound like it.
"Actually, you know what? You can help by staying here and... looking pretty, I guess?"
Maxim didn't look pretty. It was hard to, with disheveled hair and vomit all over your clothes. Looked like he hadn't had a shave in a while, too, but then again, she'd be surprised if there were razors and cream here.
"But yeah, I'm going to find out what that was. I'll be back in a sec, probs."
With that, Junko's free hand pointed at her eyes, then back at Maxim. Maybe he'd take the opportunity to leave, or maybe to attack her. She hoped he didn't. It'd suck for him if he did try something. Junko moved from the door, and stepped towards the direction the sound came from. She wondered if this was a good idea. Maybe Will was still here after all. Maybe it was Alvaro, or Isabel, or Nancy. Hell, maybe it was Caedyn, but- oh shit, that's right. She's supposed to be off to get an award thing. Huh.
Right away, Junko saw a door close. She felt herself tense up. But her lips curled again.
Her bat gently hit the door twice.
"Knock knock."
-
Yugikun
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The world was laid around Jeremy. A room. Empty. Silent. Lifeless. There were chairs and tables. There were pieces of paper, on the walls. There was a door behind him, but there was nothing else. There was a room, around him. That was Jeremy’s world, right now. A room. An office in an asylum on an island somewhere far away from where he used to be. There were people out there. He knew that. There was a whole world behind that door. He knew that. But right now, as the air caused his lungs to start growing again, he couldn’t think about anywhere else. There was a room, around him. That’s all there was. That was Jeremy’s whole world.
The knocking on the door brought him back. The voice called. He spun around, gun coming out into his hands.
“Who’s there?”
Maybe, had the circumstances been different, his choice of words would have been deliberate.
It was not, though. The fear could be heard in his voice. The anger. The rising up of what he had wanted to hold down ever since that moment with Scout, in the church.
The gun was pointed at the door.
There was a whole world behind it, and for the first time since he woke up, Jeremy Frasier was scared of what was out there.
The knocking on the door brought him back. The voice called. He spun around, gun coming out into his hands.
“Who’s there?”
Maybe, had the circumstances been different, his choice of words would have been deliberate.
It was not, though. The fear could be heard in his voice. The anger. The rising up of what he had wanted to hold down ever since that moment with Scout, in the church.
The gun was pointed at the door.
There was a whole world behind it, and for the first time since he woke up, Jeremy Frasier was scared of what was out there.
Who's there? Well, not like Junko didn't have the same question.
It sounded like a boy. A familiar boy? Kinda, yeah. His inflection, his tone, everything sounded like she should know who it was. Thing was, Junko was drawing a blank. Yeah, it sounded like someone she knew closely, but it sucked because she couldn't figure out who. It didn't help that the buzzing feeling had slowly started to come back since she'd gotten here. That buzzing, fizzing feeling, like she had a lot of energy to work out.
Junko placed her hand on the doorknob, and turned. She slid the door open a few inches, and looked inside. Yup, she could tell someone was in there, as if she couldn't already.
"Peanut butter jelly."
If this was going to turn into a knock-knock joke, she had to make the obvious reference.
It sounded like a boy. A familiar boy? Kinda, yeah. His inflection, his tone, everything sounded like she should know who it was. Thing was, Junko was drawing a blank. Yeah, it sounded like someone she knew closely, but it sucked because she couldn't figure out who. It didn't help that the buzzing feeling had slowly started to come back since she'd gotten here. That buzzing, fizzing feeling, like she had a lot of energy to work out.
Junko placed her hand on the doorknob, and turned. She slid the door open a few inches, and looked inside. Yup, she could tell someone was in there, as if she couldn't already.
"Peanut butter jelly."
If this was going to turn into a knock-knock joke, she had to make the obvious reference.
-
Yugikun
- Posts: 950
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- Location: in a place where this joke is funny
- Contact:
The door opened, and everything stopped.
There was a person, there.
One he recognised. A face. A name. Memories of time spent together memories of school memories of chatting in the playground memories of playing Street Fighter together memories of being with his friend. One that he knew about. One that he had remembered. He had forgotten to put her on the list but that didn’t matter. He found her. She was here. She wasn’t like the others, currently unknown. She wasn’t like Josh, killed far too quickly for him to even think about trying to find him. She was here. She was in front of him. Her face was one that after however long he had been here he got to finally see again.
The gun lowered.
His breath stopped.
The world dissappeared from around him, if only for a second.
There was a joke.
There was a way that he could respond. That’d be funny. That’d distract him. That’d make him believe for just a moment that everything was just as it was before.
But that wasn’t what he was thinking of right now. She was there. In front of him.
He finally found her again.
“Wait, Junko?”
There was a person, there.
One he recognised. A face. A name. Memories of time spent together memories of school memories of chatting in the playground memories of playing Street Fighter together memories of being with his friend. One that he knew about. One that he had remembered. He had forgotten to put her on the list but that didn’t matter. He found her. She was here. She wasn’t like the others, currently unknown. She wasn’t like Josh, killed far too quickly for him to even think about trying to find him. She was here. She was in front of him. Her face was one that after however long he had been here he got to finally see again.
The gun lowered.
His breath stopped.
The world dissappeared from around him, if only for a second.
There was a joke.
There was a way that he could respond. That’d be funny. That’d distract him. That’d make him believe for just a moment that everything was just as it was before.
But that wasn’t what he was thinking of right now. She was there. In front of him.
He finally found her again.
“Wait, Junko?”
He'd said her name. Junko stopped for a second. But, she resumed opening the door.
Jeremy. Jeremy Frasier was here. The one person who could kick her ass at Street Fighter, always. One of the people she could always count on to make a dick joke, the one person who'd talk about Survivor, one of the people she could relate to about Caedyn and her fuckery, kinda, sorta. And he was here. Pointing a gun. But he lowered it.
Junko raised the bat for a second. It was a bit slower than she hoped. Then, she spoke.
"Peanut butter jelly with a baseball bat."
Well, might as well complete that knock-knock joke, even if he didn't ask 'peanut butter jelly who.' Okay, so now what? Junko looked back at the direction she came. Didn't look like Maxim was trying anything. Then back to Jeremy.
"So... hey. Maxim's in the other room. Darius... is in another. Don't go there if you don't wanna see."
She shifted in place some. That question of 'now what' still hovered in the air. The buzzing feeling was only getting worse.
"What have you been up to? Got any stories to tell?"
She stepped forward.
Jeremy. Jeremy Frasier was here. The one person who could kick her ass at Street Fighter, always. One of the people she could always count on to make a dick joke, the one person who'd talk about Survivor, one of the people she could relate to about Caedyn and her fuckery, kinda, sorta. And he was here. Pointing a gun. But he lowered it.
Junko raised the bat for a second. It was a bit slower than she hoped. Then, she spoke.
"Peanut butter jelly with a baseball bat."
Well, might as well complete that knock-knock joke, even if he didn't ask 'peanut butter jelly who.' Okay, so now what? Junko looked back at the direction she came. Didn't look like Maxim was trying anything. Then back to Jeremy.
"So... hey. Maxim's in the other room. Darius... is in another. Don't go there if you don't wanna see."
She shifted in place some. That question of 'now what' still hovered in the air. The buzzing feeling was only getting worse.
"What have you been up to? Got any stories to tell?"
She stepped forward.
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Yugikun
- Posts: 950
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:48 am
- Location: in a place where this joke is funny
- Contact:
“I-”
It was Junko.
It really was her.
He finally did it he finally made it he got to someone he found her she was here she was right in front of him she was alive she was okay she was everything floating through his head running wild in his brain he was happy he was ecstatic she was here she was his friend she was uninjured and he was here. With her. Everything was going through his head at once. Thoughts. Statements. Expressions of happiness. He knew it wasn’t really normal but he didn’t care she was here in front of him maybe she wasn’t on his list maybe he had accidentally forgotten but that didn’t matter she was here now he had found her maybe if it happened to him maybe if he died he’d at least know that she was here. In front of him. He’d know that he had found her and-
Wait.
She’d asked a question to him, hadn’t she?
Whoops.
Uh…
“I’ve been doing okay, I guess. I’ve been trying to search for people. Do stuff with them. Give myself closure.”
He looked away for a second. Looked around. Turned his eyes back.
“Sorry, I’m just sorta happy I found you. Before… y’know.”
It was Junko.
It really was her.
He finally did it he finally made it he got to someone he found her she was here she was right in front of him she was alive she was okay she was everything floating through his head running wild in his brain he was happy he was ecstatic she was here she was his friend she was uninjured and he was here. With her. Everything was going through his head at once. Thoughts. Statements. Expressions of happiness. He knew it wasn’t really normal but he didn’t care she was here in front of him maybe she wasn’t on his list maybe he had accidentally forgotten but that didn’t matter she was here now he had found her maybe if it happened to him maybe if he died he’d at least know that she was here. In front of him. He’d know that he had found her and-
Wait.
She’d asked a question to him, hadn’t she?
Whoops.
Uh…
“I’ve been doing okay, I guess. I’ve been trying to search for people. Do stuff with them. Give myself closure.”
He looked away for a second. Looked around. Turned his eyes back.
“Sorry, I’m just sorta happy I found you. Before… y’know.”
He was stammering, and it sounded like a fish. Was he scared of her? Probs, yeah. Seemed to be a thing here. Funny. Come to think of it, Junko had assumed that everyone else had done something douche-y ever since they'd woken up. Then again, Jasper had asked if they could just get along, Tara was doing this "we're gonna die anyways" thing while burning herself, and Hannah... she just seemed nervous. Then again, the only people she'd encountered before she got here who hadn't died thus far were... damn, Hannah and Jasmine? Darius got shot by Will, Nancy apparently got Leslie in a two-pack kill, and Tara... committed suicide? Maybe? And Jasper got shot by Alvaro. So, yeah, Hannah and Jasmine. And Jasmine was a killer. So, there you go.
So, was Jeremy that nervous? Maybe, just maybe, that was a good thing. They may have been friends, but if he tried anything, well... she wasn't holding back. For a moment, she felt a twinge, an unpleasant feeling, but she pushed it aside.
Junko stepped closer. The bat remained in her hands, and it felt like a part of her. Like her arm or leg. That fizzing increased, like it was only going to foam out of her pores. But her steps were slower than she realized.
He was looking for "people." Well, "people" could mean anything. People, do stuff, what? Too vague. Too very, very vague.
Junko stopped for a second. She looked him over.
"Before what?" she asked.
She processed the information. Then she smiled.
"Jeremy... are you giving up already?"
Closure. Did that mean he was already certain he was going to die here? Maybe that was true. But you know what? He wouldn't be the first. Tara had asked them how they'd like to die, and she'd told them she'd promised herself something. She wouldn't die like Graham. She wouldn't die like Darius, or Josh, or Bradley, or Tara, or Jerry, or Leslie, or Jasper, or Wayne, or Danny, or anyone else who'd been on the announcements.
Junko wasn't giving up. She knew one thing: she was never going to die like that.
So, was Jeremy that nervous? Maybe, just maybe, that was a good thing. They may have been friends, but if he tried anything, well... she wasn't holding back. For a moment, she felt a twinge, an unpleasant feeling, but she pushed it aside.
Junko stepped closer. The bat remained in her hands, and it felt like a part of her. Like her arm or leg. That fizzing increased, like it was only going to foam out of her pores. But her steps were slower than she realized.
He was looking for "people." Well, "people" could mean anything. People, do stuff, what? Too vague. Too very, very vague.
Junko stopped for a second. She looked him over.
"Before what?" she asked.
She processed the information. Then she smiled.
"Jeremy... are you giving up already?"
Closure. Did that mean he was already certain he was going to die here? Maybe that was true. But you know what? He wouldn't be the first. Tara had asked them how they'd like to die, and she'd told them she'd promised herself something. She wouldn't die like Graham. She wouldn't die like Darius, or Josh, or Bradley, or Tara, or Jerry, or Leslie, or Jasper, or Wayne, or Danny, or anyone else who'd been on the announcements.
Junko wasn't giving up. She knew one thing: she was never going to die like that.
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Yugikun
- Posts: 950
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“Yeah.”
The excitement had left his body. The feeling of finally succeeding for once wore off. The room was normal again. The tone had become what it always seemed to be these days. Empty. Blank. Barren. It was… disappointing. Disheartening. Disenchanting. He had been able to find Junko, yeah, but it seemed that that didn’t change much. He was back to talking about the game. He was back to talking about the fact that he was going to die. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to, honestly. He had found his friend. That was supposed to be a good thing. They could talk about what they did and what happened back then. They were going to distract themselves. That was what they were going to do.
But she had asked a question, and it was his duty to answer it. Explain his viewpoint. Talk, like they used to.
“I mean, like. I don’t really want to. Being on an island and playing a game where you’re supposed to murder your classmates probably isn’t really anyone’s ideal way of dying…”
He had wondered whether he had told this before. He knew that it had occurred to him when he was here. Several times, in fact.
But had he ever vocalised it? To Alex? To Hazel? To Jordan? They knew of his priorities. They knew about the list, but did they know the full story? Did they know why he was doing this?
He wasn’t sure.
It didn’t matter, anyway.
He’d just tell them. If they came to him again. He could do that. There wasn’t a real issue with it. He’d just tell them, like he was going to tell Junko.
Simple as that.
“But I just sorta have to accept it, y’know? Like, I think there are bit over a hundred of us here. That’s less than a one percent chance of survival. Not odds I’d bet on.”
He paused, for a second. Took a breath. Continued.
“So it’s like… the Seneca thing I’ve probably told you about. The whole, like, hope cycle thing. If people are too optimistic at the fact that a certain thing is going to happen, then if it doesn’t happen like they think they get sad. If someone’s pessimistic, then they’re fine if it doesn’t happen, but happy if it does happen. I’ve been… sorta going by that. Just going by and doing as much as I can, so that when the time comes, I can look back and be happy.”
A pause.
“I mean…”
He looked away. Turned back.
“I don’t think either of us are going to live through this, so we may as well make the most of our time here, right?”
The excitement had left his body. The feeling of finally succeeding for once wore off. The room was normal again. The tone had become what it always seemed to be these days. Empty. Blank. Barren. It was… disappointing. Disheartening. Disenchanting. He had been able to find Junko, yeah, but it seemed that that didn’t change much. He was back to talking about the game. He was back to talking about the fact that he was going to die. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to, honestly. He had found his friend. That was supposed to be a good thing. They could talk about what they did and what happened back then. They were going to distract themselves. That was what they were going to do.
But she had asked a question, and it was his duty to answer it. Explain his viewpoint. Talk, like they used to.
“I mean, like. I don’t really want to. Being on an island and playing a game where you’re supposed to murder your classmates probably isn’t really anyone’s ideal way of dying…”
He had wondered whether he had told this before. He knew that it had occurred to him when he was here. Several times, in fact.
But had he ever vocalised it? To Alex? To Hazel? To Jordan? They knew of his priorities. They knew about the list, but did they know the full story? Did they know why he was doing this?
He wasn’t sure.
It didn’t matter, anyway.
He’d just tell them. If they came to him again. He could do that. There wasn’t a real issue with it. He’d just tell them, like he was going to tell Junko.
Simple as that.
“But I just sorta have to accept it, y’know? Like, I think there are bit over a hundred of us here. That’s less than a one percent chance of survival. Not odds I’d bet on.”
He paused, for a second. Took a breath. Continued.
“So it’s like… the Seneca thing I’ve probably told you about. The whole, like, hope cycle thing. If people are too optimistic at the fact that a certain thing is going to happen, then if it doesn’t happen like they think they get sad. If someone’s pessimistic, then they’re fine if it doesn’t happen, but happy if it does happen. I’ve been… sorta going by that. Just going by and doing as much as I can, so that when the time comes, I can look back and be happy.”
A pause.
“I mean…”
He looked away. Turned back.
“I don’t think either of us are going to live through this, so we may as well make the most of our time here, right?”
Oof, her bag was heavy. It was only getting slightly less heavy by the day. Should she set it down? Though, was Jeremy the type of person to take it? Possibly, yeah. She wouldn't blame him if he tried. To be honest, she'd do something similar if she was him. But, she slid it off her shoulder anyways, and rested it on the ground near the door. If he tried to take it, she knew what to do. Even if they were friends, it still didn't change what was going on.
As Junko slid back up, Jeremy continued talking.
Junko stopped smiling.
He hadn't just given up. He'd assumed that everyone else had, too. He'd assumed she had. He was apparently looking for her, as if she was some princess that needed saving. No, worse. He'd assumed that once he'd found everyone, they'd just bunker down, like waiting for the end of the world or some shit. Or maybe they'd, god, she didn't even know. Commit mass suicide, maybe?
That wasn't what Junko wanted.
Survive until something happened. She didn't remember when exactly she came up with that mantra, but it was what she'd been telling herself this entire time. It worked well for her. She had no idea how many people were dead now, but it meant something. The name Seneca rang a bell, and it felt like Jeremy had told her about him before. Junko was never big on philosophy, she didn't think. But Jeremy was, and... did he think it was a good idea to wait to just go belly up?
Junko tensed up. Her heart started pounding. She was shaking.
No. Tara had thought the same way, too. Thought that they were all going to die someday or something like that. And where was she now? Dead, killed herself maybe. No, Junko was different. Even if she had to die, she had to go down fighting. If she fought, she could at least say she tried.
Her muscles tensed.
And here Jeremy was, saying something similar. Junko heard herself seethe. Her fingers tightened, her white knuckles contrasting against the wooden bat. That fizzing feeling got worse, and then... it popped.
"Shut. Up."
Her voice was a low growl. For a second, Junko didn't recognize it was hers. But she wasn't thinking. Not too much.
Instead, she stomped forward.
Then, she swung towards his face.
As Junko slid back up, Jeremy continued talking.
Junko stopped smiling.
He hadn't just given up. He'd assumed that everyone else had, too. He'd assumed she had. He was apparently looking for her, as if she was some princess that needed saving. No, worse. He'd assumed that once he'd found everyone, they'd just bunker down, like waiting for the end of the world or some shit. Or maybe they'd, god, she didn't even know. Commit mass suicide, maybe?
That wasn't what Junko wanted.
Survive until something happened. She didn't remember when exactly she came up with that mantra, but it was what she'd been telling herself this entire time. It worked well for her. She had no idea how many people were dead now, but it meant something. The name Seneca rang a bell, and it felt like Jeremy had told her about him before. Junko was never big on philosophy, she didn't think. But Jeremy was, and... did he think it was a good idea to wait to just go belly up?
Junko tensed up. Her heart started pounding. She was shaking.
No. Tara had thought the same way, too. Thought that they were all going to die someday or something like that. And where was she now? Dead, killed herself maybe. No, Junko was different. Even if she had to die, she had to go down fighting. If she fought, she could at least say she tried.
Her muscles tensed.
And here Jeremy was, saying something similar. Junko heard herself seethe. Her fingers tightened, her white knuckles contrasting against the wooden bat. That fizzing feeling got worse, and then... it popped.
"Shut. Up."
Her voice was a low growl. For a second, Junko didn't recognize it was hers. But she wasn't thinking. Not too much.
Instead, she stomped forward.
Then, she swung towards his face.