((Garrett Cobbler continued from Ducks Love Fireworks))
In a way, Garrett felt a little bit like a kid. He had run and run and never stopped running, never stopped to look and see if anyone was chasing him. Any sound made him sprint. Any shadow scared him away and spurred him on further. He had been running on fumes. Well, fumes and crackers. Garrett hadn't stopped long enough to thoroughly go through his pack. He hadn't even slept much, awakened by every gentle wind or imagined enemy. When he finally stumbled into a mall and pushed open the doors to the first building he had seen in who knows how long, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was going to be safe. He was going to be okay.
At least until someone came along with a gun to murder him. But it was important to keep those thoughts as far away as possible.
But despite the constant bombardment of anxiety and feelings of ever-impending doom, he had a plan. He would find a safe spot in the center of a circular rack of clothes that he would push underneath a cash register at some store in the mall. It would be like he was a kid again, hiding from his mom, bored out of his mind, pretending he was in a spaceship. It would be like make believe. Make believe that could kill you. But make believe nonetheless. He would be okay. He was going to be okay. He would lean his head on a black jacket hanging from the rack and the wooden counter behind it and sit and wait. And he would be okay.
The way he saw it, no one would come looking for him if he stayed under the radar. Killers would attract attention and everyone would kill everyone and if he made it to the end... oh god if he made it to the end. Well, then... he'd come in second. Maybe. Probably. He pushed the thoughts away again but each time they came back tenfold. This wasn't made for him. He wasn't made for this. Somewhere out there, someone was watching and laughing. He had no chance whatsoever. He was fodder. That's what he'd always been and that's what he'd be here. Utterly mediocre. Unremarkable. Fodder.
Remarkable people didn't plan to hide in clothes racks in outdated stores in a dilapidated shopping center. Remarkable people hunted and killed and won and survived. Or forged alliances and temporary truces and betrayed and survived. Either way, they survived. They were smart, strong, good at befriending or manipulating people. And Garrett? Garrett was going to slowly nibble crackers surrounded by an IMAX theater of monotone coats. At the very least he'd have some reading material in the punt gun manual he had never previously opened up. That had to count for something, right? Probably not.
But it was okay. If there wasn't a chance, if he couldn't win then why put himself through the pain? Why chase and hunt and hope and get slaughtered when he could... get slaughtered on his own terms? He could live like this for a little while with bread and food bars and... well, he was out of crackers. He could live for a while and be okay. Sure he would be a sitting duck, but maybe that was what they wanted from him. He was dropped in a duck pond with a duck killer and now he was a sitting duck. If the SOTF gods wanted to drop him a roast duck to round out the theme, he would greatly appreciate it.
But for now he was just going to live. He was going to make believe. Because that's all that could be done.
When he finally reached the second story of the not-so-abandoned mall and could see the Banana Republic in his sights, however, his heart sank. He wasn't alone. Of course he wasn't. Two people stood just a little ways away and one of them was holding... a shotgun? His blood ran cold and seemed to stop as if it were giving up faster than he could. He should have stayed with the asshole jock. At least in that situation, he was the one with the gun. A useless one, but a gun nonetheless.
He couldn't quite make out who the individuals were, but he knew they were in the way of Banana Republic, his little clothing rack of safety, and his escape. There was nothing to be done but make believe.
"Hello?"
He was in a spaceship.
And God said, "Man, what are you talking about? I sent you a helicopter and a boat."
Paper Shops in Paper Towns
-
LoneArcher†
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Sat Sep 15, 2018 8:17 am
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LoneArcher. 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.
-
VysePresident
- Posts: 166
- Joined: Thu Sep 13, 2018 9:14 am
So, that was that.
Chase had to admit to being a little annoyed with Brandon's condescending gesture, but he let it pass without comment, as Brandon was already heading off into the stores along with Summer. It wasn't worth letting it bother him. Brandon was one of those people who moved like a walking disaster, and taking offense was, at best, more a waste of time than anything. He should probably be glad things went as well as they did. Nobody was hurt, and in fact, things were much the same as they were before the other boy had entered.
Instead, he was left with a feeling of mild disappointment in himself, a feeling that he could have done better. Not that he'd have preferred to hang around Brandon any more than he had to. No, the reason was that, when he'd placed himself between Lydia and Brandon, he'd made eye contact with the other boy, had seen the look of disgust and annoyance, and realized he'd done more harm than good. It certainly hadn't been his intention. When he saw Lydia stepping back, and had realized she might well be on the verge of panicking again, he knew he needed to support her. She wasn't someone he knew well; had life continued on normally, they probably wouldn't have ever bumped into each other again after high school, but that didn't mean he could leave her to fend for herself against the much bigger boy, particularly not when she was so effected by their situation. It had seemed the right thing to do.
It wasn't until he'd done it, that he'd realized that it could be taken in a completely different light from the simple gesture he'd meant it to be - that he'd communicated, without words, that he didn't trust Brandon not to attack them where they stood. By the time he'd recognized his blunder, he was floundering, seeing mistakes everywhere as he tried to salvage the situation as best he could, but only making things worse. Ironically, he'd hoped that Lydia would pipe in and offer him a chance to gather his thoughts, but it had been clear from her rather flat attempt at talking to Summer that he couldn't count on that.
So then, he'd made what had seemed a fair offer, to put their shotgun to the side to show that their was no more distrust involved than caution required, and to show the other two that they were willing to trust them. Of course, that wasn't his decision to make, and he felt guilty for not even asking Lydia first. What had she thought of that? Had she been in agreement, or was she angry with him for making an offer that he had no right to make? He didn't know. She hadn't acknowledged it, nor made a move to do so before the other two had left. To tell the truth, he wanted to leave it alone. Things had already gone poorly enough without another problem to deal with, but ignoring it was risking allowing it to get worse. If she wasn't upset with him, then no harm done by bringing it up, but if she was, then he needed to address it now.
"I'm sorry."
He hesitated a moment, clearing his throat to buy some time, but it wasn't until the silence began to drag that he started speaking again.
"I don't know if you're upset with me for offering to leave the shotgun against the wall, but I wanted to let you know I was sorry. If I'd been thinking I'd have at least asked, but I...I just...I don't know. It's been so hard to think clearly since I woke up. I thought maybe that it would help calm everything down, but it looks like that wasn't meant to be."
After he broke eye contact with Lydia, his gaze wandered briefly around the shopping center. The mustiness in the air, along with the dim light coming through the skylights lent a rather gloomy air to the place. He couldn't quite tell when his first impression had changed, but he no longer felt like he'd wandered into a sleeping mall, waiting to open and awaken in the morning. Rather, the place felt like it had died in that sleep, and had remained frozen that way since. It was its own tomb and corpse.
Needless to say, not a great thought for peace of mind. Moving on, back to his present situation.
"Look, I don't know if you'll want to search for my friend with me, but whatever we do, I think it might a good idea to leave soon. The mall's probably going to be attracting a lot more people, who want to grab anything lying around, and we can't count on them all being...well, safe. I'm open to anywhere you'd like to go. I mean, one place is as good as another for finding somebody, but I think maybe we should look into finding somewhere we can stay come night."
As if to illustrate his point, a nearby voice called out. Same song, second verse.
Chase had to admit to being a little annoyed with Brandon's condescending gesture, but he let it pass without comment, as Brandon was already heading off into the stores along with Summer. It wasn't worth letting it bother him. Brandon was one of those people who moved like a walking disaster, and taking offense was, at best, more a waste of time than anything. He should probably be glad things went as well as they did. Nobody was hurt, and in fact, things were much the same as they were before the other boy had entered.
Instead, he was left with a feeling of mild disappointment in himself, a feeling that he could have done better. Not that he'd have preferred to hang around Brandon any more than he had to. No, the reason was that, when he'd placed himself between Lydia and Brandon, he'd made eye contact with the other boy, had seen the look of disgust and annoyance, and realized he'd done more harm than good. It certainly hadn't been his intention. When he saw Lydia stepping back, and had realized she might well be on the verge of panicking again, he knew he needed to support her. She wasn't someone he knew well; had life continued on normally, they probably wouldn't have ever bumped into each other again after high school, but that didn't mean he could leave her to fend for herself against the much bigger boy, particularly not when she was so effected by their situation. It had seemed the right thing to do.
It wasn't until he'd done it, that he'd realized that it could be taken in a completely different light from the simple gesture he'd meant it to be - that he'd communicated, without words, that he didn't trust Brandon not to attack them where they stood. By the time he'd recognized his blunder, he was floundering, seeing mistakes everywhere as he tried to salvage the situation as best he could, but only making things worse. Ironically, he'd hoped that Lydia would pipe in and offer him a chance to gather his thoughts, but it had been clear from her rather flat attempt at talking to Summer that he couldn't count on that.
So then, he'd made what had seemed a fair offer, to put their shotgun to the side to show that their was no more distrust involved than caution required, and to show the other two that they were willing to trust them. Of course, that wasn't his decision to make, and he felt guilty for not even asking Lydia first. What had she thought of that? Had she been in agreement, or was she angry with him for making an offer that he had no right to make? He didn't know. She hadn't acknowledged it, nor made a move to do so before the other two had left. To tell the truth, he wanted to leave it alone. Things had already gone poorly enough without another problem to deal with, but ignoring it was risking allowing it to get worse. If she wasn't upset with him, then no harm done by bringing it up, but if she was, then he needed to address it now.
"I'm sorry."
He hesitated a moment, clearing his throat to buy some time, but it wasn't until the silence began to drag that he started speaking again.
"I don't know if you're upset with me for offering to leave the shotgun against the wall, but I wanted to let you know I was sorry. If I'd been thinking I'd have at least asked, but I...I just...I don't know. It's been so hard to think clearly since I woke up. I thought maybe that it would help calm everything down, but it looks like that wasn't meant to be."
After he broke eye contact with Lydia, his gaze wandered briefly around the shopping center. The mustiness in the air, along with the dim light coming through the skylights lent a rather gloomy air to the place. He couldn't quite tell when his first impression had changed, but he no longer felt like he'd wandered into a sleeping mall, waiting to open and awaken in the morning. Rather, the place felt like it had died in that sleep, and had remained frozen that way since. It was its own tomb and corpse.
Needless to say, not a great thought for peace of mind. Moving on, back to his present situation.
"Look, I don't know if you'll want to search for my friend with me, but whatever we do, I think it might a good idea to leave soon. The mall's probably going to be attracting a lot more people, who want to grab anything lying around, and we can't count on them all being...well, safe. I'm open to anywhere you'd like to go. I mean, one place is as good as another for finding somebody, but I think maybe we should look into finding somewhere we can stay come night."
As if to illustrate his point, a nearby voice called out. Same song, second verse.
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
"It's fine," Lydia said. "And I can help you search, for a while."
She didn't want to talk about what had happened between her and Chase and Summer and Brandon, not right now. It was still too present and pressing, and this whole thing was becoming almost unbearably stressful, so better to say it was fine and then Chase would think it was fine and then it could really be fine. The others had left, and the last thing Lydia wanted was to stick around now that she'd seen them. She'd realized, based on what they had said, that they were in a place likely to be very desirable to others in the class, because of what it represented in resources and comfort. While the mall was large enough to house many people, she didn't think it could accommodate the whole class, and any large group brought conflict, even in a regular situation, and now, with everyone tense and told to kill each other, how could it end any way but violence?
No, it would be better to wander a desert alone than to stay here, better for her soul and mind if not her body. At least Chase was on the same page as her, for now. As someone else called out to them, Lydia tried not to let her nerves get to her.
She took a deep breath. Tried to force the tension down. It was just another person, sent here with a purpose of their own, and if their paths were meant to cross then so be it, but Lydia didn't think that was what was in store for them. No, the message here was far too clear: it's time to go, Lydia, time to get moving and get doing and get out of this damned shopping mall, get some time and space and then really get things straight, clean house.
Just go.
"Hey," she called in the direction of the voice. "We're just leaving. We won't get in your way."
She turned, gave Chase a hesitant look. Mouthed the words, let's go.
Then Lydia turned and got going, revving herself up to a very light jog as she went for the stairs. Time to find somewhere better.
((Lydia Robbins continued in What's up, Dock?))
She didn't want to talk about what had happened between her and Chase and Summer and Brandon, not right now. It was still too present and pressing, and this whole thing was becoming almost unbearably stressful, so better to say it was fine and then Chase would think it was fine and then it could really be fine. The others had left, and the last thing Lydia wanted was to stick around now that she'd seen them. She'd realized, based on what they had said, that they were in a place likely to be very desirable to others in the class, because of what it represented in resources and comfort. While the mall was large enough to house many people, she didn't think it could accommodate the whole class, and any large group brought conflict, even in a regular situation, and now, with everyone tense and told to kill each other, how could it end any way but violence?
No, it would be better to wander a desert alone than to stay here, better for her soul and mind if not her body. At least Chase was on the same page as her, for now. As someone else called out to them, Lydia tried not to let her nerves get to her.
She took a deep breath. Tried to force the tension down. It was just another person, sent here with a purpose of their own, and if their paths were meant to cross then so be it, but Lydia didn't think that was what was in store for them. No, the message here was far too clear: it's time to go, Lydia, time to get moving and get doing and get out of this damned shopping mall, get some time and space and then really get things straight, clean house.
Just go.
"Hey," she called in the direction of the voice. "We're just leaving. We won't get in your way."
She turned, gave Chase a hesitant look. Mouthed the words, let's go.
Then Lydia turned and got going, revving herself up to a very light jog as she went for the stairs. Time to find somewhere better.
((Lydia Robbins continued in What's up, Dock?))
-
LoneArcher†
- Posts: 16
- Joined: Sat Sep 15, 2018 8:17 am
He had prepared for the absolute worst. He expected a verbal encounter, an aggressive response, or at the very least an awkward run-in, but he hadn't prepared for the best case scenario. They seemed to be on their way out. They weren't going to bother him. He was going to be okay, after all. One of them told him they were leaving and began jogging off. He watched her go and breathed a sigh of relief and for the first time since he had woken up on the island, Garrett felt like he would be safe. Not everyone was serious about this and he didn't have to worry about every psycho with a weapon. Maybe someone would come and rescue them after all. Isn't that what had happened before? It was times like these that Garrett wished he had paid a bit more attention to all the details on the news in years past. But it had always seemed so distant that it never seemed pertinent. It was always someone else's problem, terrible things that happened to nameless people he had never met before.
Of course, he was just as nameless to someone else.
At the very least he could find his own space. He could nestle in a clothing rack and camp for a while, live like everything was okay, eat relatively decently for some time, and hope that it would all end. It wasn't that he didn't care about anyone else on the island, but it seemed so unlikely that he would run into anyone meaningful to him that it wasn't worth the risk. And if he found them, it would only be harder to accept the situation he was in.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the Banana Republic.
((B010 Garrett Cobbler continued in One of Us Does Nothing at All)
Of course, he was just as nameless to someone else.
At the very least he could find his own space. He could nestle in a clothing rack and camp for a while, live like everything was okay, eat relatively decently for some time, and hope that it would all end. It wasn't that he didn't care about anyone else on the island, but it seemed so unlikely that he would run into anyone meaningful to him that it wasn't worth the risk. And if he found them, it would only be harder to accept the situation he was in.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the Banana Republic.
((B010 Garrett Cobbler continued in One of Us Does Nothing at All)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LoneArcher. 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.
-
VysePresident
- Posts: 166
- Joined: Thu Sep 13, 2018 9:14 am
So, that was settled then.
Chase was already feeling a little more at ease after Lydia's reply. If she had felt any annoyance him, it didn't show, and everything seemed to be alright. What mattered now was that she had agreed that it was time to get moving, and he really needed to pick up the pace if he wanted to keep up with her. His eyes flicked towards the other boy as he started walking, and gave him an encouraging small, muttering "good luck" as he sped up into a jog as well.
Actually, strike that. Instead of a jog, he sped up into the floor, having tripped on some of the debris scattered across the mall. As he pulled himself up, he sighed a little in frustration, berating himself. While he'd managed to catch himself without injuring anything, it was still more excitement than he cared for. Now really wasn't the time to be clumsy, especially something as stupid and preventable as not looking where he was going. At least there weren't any witnesses to his embarrassment, as the other boy had already started moving towards the stores.
As he followed Lydia a little more cautiously than before, he wondered vaguely how everyone back home was doing. He knew his parents would at least be keeping an eye on the news. He wasn't sure about Miriam, but it had to be hitting her hard too, with so many of her friends taken. Were they already watching him now, even as he left the store? If he really was going to die here, then what kind of person would they see? If it was all he could do with the time he had left, he wanted to at least be somebody they could be proud of. He knew he wasn't a hero, like in the books his little sister liked to share with him, but he could at least be a good person, being a friend to those in need, like with Lydia.
It wasn't much, but it was something he knew he could do, for their sakes and his own, and that had to be enough for now.
((Chase Rodriguez continued in What's up, Dock?))
Chase was already feeling a little more at ease after Lydia's reply. If she had felt any annoyance him, it didn't show, and everything seemed to be alright. What mattered now was that she had agreed that it was time to get moving, and he really needed to pick up the pace if he wanted to keep up with her. His eyes flicked towards the other boy as he started walking, and gave him an encouraging small, muttering "good luck" as he sped up into a jog as well.
Actually, strike that. Instead of a jog, he sped up into the floor, having tripped on some of the debris scattered across the mall. As he pulled himself up, he sighed a little in frustration, berating himself. While he'd managed to catch himself without injuring anything, it was still more excitement than he cared for. Now really wasn't the time to be clumsy, especially something as stupid and preventable as not looking where he was going. At least there weren't any witnesses to his embarrassment, as the other boy had already started moving towards the stores.
As he followed Lydia a little more cautiously than before, he wondered vaguely how everyone back home was doing. He knew his parents would at least be keeping an eye on the news. He wasn't sure about Miriam, but it had to be hitting her hard too, with so many of her friends taken. Were they already watching him now, even as he left the store? If he really was going to die here, then what kind of person would they see? If it was all he could do with the time he had left, he wanted to at least be somebody they could be proud of. He knew he wasn't a hero, like in the books his little sister liked to share with him, but he could at least be a good person, being a friend to those in need, like with Lydia.
It wasn't much, but it was something he knew he could do, for their sakes and his own, and that had to be enough for now.
((Chase Rodriguez continued in What's up, Dock?))