Deep Red Bells

[General Goose]

Before the group could make any further progress in ironing out the logistics or determining the trajectory of their plan, the island, in its early frantic chaos, saw fit to give them a more visceral reminder of the stakes that they were facing and the curveballs that would be thrown up in the way of even the most well-crafted of plans. They were standing out in the open, of course, by a landmark that was easily identifiable. They would attract attention. Good for recruiting newbies to their cause, Camille imagined, as hanging around a place where the students would naturally congregate made a lot of sense, but of course the risks that came with it were self-evident.

Jessica Rennes approached them. Not a girl that Camille knew too well, but also from what she did know, Jessica was not an innately threatening person or high up on the list of likely collaborators with the terrorists. But Camille didn't exactly need intimate knowledge of Jessica to tell that she was no threat. She was in far worse a shape - right down to her inability to hold herself up or infuse her movements with much sign of deliberation - than anyone else Camille had encountered on the island thus far. Jessica was in need of help. A nosebleed, too, that was what caught Camille's eyes first - but Jessica seemed to be feeling it far worse than Claudeson had been.

It seemed inevitable that Jessica fell onto the ground.

Gripping her cigarette between her lips, Camile had already started, by instinct, to fish out the first aid kit from her bag, unaware she wasn't the only one with this idea until she looked up. She couldn't use it herself. Camille was not well-qualified here - despite something of a natural knack for science, reading "useful notes" on TvTropes was the extent of any medical expertise that she had. But she could be the one passing other equipment.

Making sure to throw her head back over her shoulder periodically to make sure their bags remained safe and nobody unpleasant used this opportunity to mount an ambush, Camille moved forward, holding out her first aid kit as a present for the others to use as appropriate.

[Brackie]

Jessica was so focused on her pain it was almost just as immediately she was surrounded by people. Instinctively, she wanted to kick them away, to scream at them to leave her alone, to let her breathe, to cry for her sister or her girlfriend or anyone who would make the pain go away. Even though she'd come in this direction with a purpose, they were all just too close, too suffocating. Jessica was still in such a daze that she couldn't even place their faces to their names. There were girls and boys, they were black and white, they were...was she wearing a helmet?

But they talked of her like she wasn't alive, like everything she was experiencing wasn't from her own body. Jessica knew more than anything she was breathing because doing so felt like there were clamps on her chest, and God would not let people hurt after death. She felt like a body being disected in biology class, as though she'd soon find out how much her liver weighed, or how much marrow remained in her bones, like she was suddenly not there anymore. She'd felt so active, so present just a while ago, and then suddenly...this.

If she was less strained, less in pain, she would have asked for the obvious. She'd have wanted to know if anyone had seen the important people in her life, or even those who'd slipped from her grasp or done this to her. If she'd been in better shape she would have righteously jumped forward and told them what had happened, how she'd ended up falling from cliffs and surviving by miracle. But things weren't that easy.

As she tried to focus her eyes on the figures around her, she noticed it was becoming hard to do so. Their words became long. She was about to talk, to ask them what was going on and if they could do anything to make sure she wouldn't die, when Jessica Rennes gradually but suddenly passed out from what had been the longest and hardest day of her life.

((Jessica Rennes woke up in...)))

[Cicada]

Princess stared at Valerija, her face betraying a moment of worry lines as she concentrated. Back to Jessica, suddenly timid, as if she actually expected her head to spontaneously explode.

When that didn't come to pass Princess jotted down a mental note in the shortest of short hand: she, Princess McQuillan, was an almost adorable idiot.

"Tell me and Claude- what to do." She took Camille's offered first aid kit with deft fingers and light touch. Heavy, but her spirit was light and buoyant enough to counterbalance. Or maybe that was just the blood in her rushing both ways.

"If it's to stand aside, that too."

Funnily enough, without even planning it Princess played the falling action perfectly. Scene set, time to do as she was told and fade out. She'd be a prop for now, and relevant later on.

SCENE END

[Cactus]

None of them had done much of anything when Jessica had finally passed out. Valerija's suggestion had brought concern down upon all of them, but in the end, it was likely just an inane thought that she had only brought up because of her uncertainty and fear. Claudeson did not blame Valerija for that. All of them were willing to assist their fallen classmate, but none of them truly knew what to do.

So with lack of any other option, Claudeson opened his first aid kit and began to wipe the blood away from Jessica's nose, readying some cotton to stop the bleeding. He had been doing that for himself for much of the day, so by now, he was well-practiced.

Lord, give us strength to face the trials ahead.

In his mind's eye, the words seemed unsightly and his resolve dimmed, if for only a moment.

This was not a place borne from God; he had never been so sure of anything in his entire life.

The thought - oddly enough - empowered him.

((Claudeson Bademosi continued in A modest violet grew,))

[Kermit]

Val's eyes widened and her face made kind of a 'Yikes!' expression. As she was a high-school student, she was dangerously underqualified in most fields of medicine.

"Wait - wait, I don't actually know what to do! Just, like... if her head's doing the thing, then -" she sputtered. " - then she'll probably be dead pretty soon - but it's not doing the thing, so..."

"...so we'll just do our best and see how it works out."

((Valerija Bogdanovic continued in A modest violet grew))

[General Goose]

Though Camille had offered her medical kit, she felt like a spectator.

Not that that was exactly an unwelcome feeling for her - she was an avid people watcher and a fervent consumer of reality TV, so it was a feeling that felt oddly familiar in a way that was almost reassuring. Not quite reassuring, though, but that was more because the stakes at play called for something a bit more soothing than just a slight sense of deja vu.

Camille kept quiet as the others talked. She paid attention, ready to take orders or answer any questions that were thrown her way, though she imagined that unless Jessica woke up and requested a story or some gossip, there was little she could do that the others couldn't do better. She kept her eye on their surroundings and their bags. The fact that this island was a den of potential killers and thieves seemed slightly more real now.

((Camille Bellegarde continued elsewhere.))