"I know."
That probably wasn't what Nick was expecting, but hey.
"The Beryl part. Not like, the other stuff."
Axel was probably supposed to follow that up with "it's okay" or "I forgive you" or something, but literally anything he said here would sound like bullshit. "You're a murderer" or "that's bullshit" or "it doesn't matter why you did it" or "you're a monster" were more likely to get him stabbed and wouldn't be any less fake-sounding for it. He couldn't summon up the anger, not for shit that was already over, not for people he didn't care that much about, not dehydrated and running off fumes. He knew Beryl, kinda, for having been in the other band at school that sorta mattered, she seemed nice and all but honestly she was mostly filed in his head as "Tristan and Nick's girlfriend". Jeremiah was... a big grey dude, and that was pretty much all he had.
He knew Nick. He'd had issues with Nick that didn't matter anymore. They'd been friends most of the time they'd known each other, and that kinda felt more important even if logically speaking he should probably throw something at him and run away. Not that he could run, at the moment, but whatever. Theoretically-like.
God, his heart still felt like it was gonna beat out of his chest.
Okay, and the other person. Marco. Axel didn't—okay, he did know a Marco, but this was pretty transparently not Marco Volker, Fuckboy Extraordinaire. He'd heard the name pretty recently, though, so that was weird. Wasn't like he was hearing a lot of new names out here, outside of... on the... oh.
Nick would, like, not let him kill him, right? He seemed a lot less happy to seem Axel than Nick did. So that was yet another on the long list of reasons why staying here was probably a bad idea, but considering he couldn't even summon the strength to get back off the floor that was kind of a non-starter. The Artist Formerly Known As Nona, huh? Weird time to be having personal growth moments, but sure, whatever. The whole murder thing was a lot more relevant. Christ, was that a Freddy Krueger glove?
Okay, back up.
"Uh... hey, Marco." He did a kinda stupid-looking half-wave. He didn't even remember who he'd killed. Something with a K. Didn't know enough about who he'd been to really judge whether he was actually dangerous or he'd just had a bad moment or what. That glove was some scary shit, but Nick hadn't wanted to kill him, and they were like allies or whatever, so Marco probably wouldn't... whatever. He literally couldn't leave if he wanted to so if he was just gonna freak himself out it was probably better to stop thinking so hard.
He looked back at Nick.
"So, uh, wanna help me up? Dunno if this is my best angle."
He grinned a dumbass rictus grin.
I Came In The Name Of The Dead, To Bring My Neck To The Blade
(Day 3, Post Announcement, Private until Goose and Fen Post)
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
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General Goose
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Axel knew.
Nick felt something in his stomach unravel at that. Or in his chest. Somewhere in his torso. Either way, he loosened up, became a bit less tense. Felt a bit safer. Not that Axel was a physical threat. The power imbalance in this scenario was way too stark for that to be a meaningful possibility. But...socially safer? Seemed like a weird thing to be worrying about now, but if Nick had a bit more reassurance that he hadn't gone insane, that he could still be trusted by someone whose opinion he valued, that his actions could be viewed by a reasonable person in a non-monstrous light...that mattered. It helped him a lot.
Nick stopped stressing in ways that he didn't know he had been. Became a bit less defensive. He hadn't known, in the moment at least, that he had been on the defensive, primed and ready to launch into an impassioned defence or a fiery denial, until he felt the absence of such emotions. It was a relief that Nick didn't know he needed. He nodded.
He looked over Axel. The 'best angle' remark prompted it, as an unsavoury reflex. Axel looked good naked. Even when scared and famished and caught in the midst of a lethal death game with all the scrapes and traumas that that brought, but for once, Nick just didn't feel into it. There was a time and a place for objectifying friends and...well, this wasn't it.
He held out a hand.
Axel took it.
"Do you...need any help? We should, like...get back further down the cave."
And so they went.
Nick felt something in his stomach unravel at that. Or in his chest. Somewhere in his torso. Either way, he loosened up, became a bit less tense. Felt a bit safer. Not that Axel was a physical threat. The power imbalance in this scenario was way too stark for that to be a meaningful possibility. But...socially safer? Seemed like a weird thing to be worrying about now, but if Nick had a bit more reassurance that he hadn't gone insane, that he could still be trusted by someone whose opinion he valued, that his actions could be viewed by a reasonable person in a non-monstrous light...that mattered. It helped him a lot.
Nick stopped stressing in ways that he didn't know he had been. Became a bit less defensive. He hadn't known, in the moment at least, that he had been on the defensive, primed and ready to launch into an impassioned defence or a fiery denial, until he felt the absence of such emotions. It was a relief that Nick didn't know he needed. He nodded.
He looked over Axel. The 'best angle' remark prompted it, as an unsavoury reflex. Axel looked good naked. Even when scared and famished and caught in the midst of a lethal death game with all the scrapes and traumas that that brought, but for once, Nick just didn't feel into it. There was a time and a place for objectifying friends and...well, this wasn't it.
He held out a hand.
Axel took it.
"Do you...need any help? We should, like...get back further down the cave."
And so they went.
((Garnet Barnes continued from Know Their Names))
She really did try not to be mad.
It's just, well, turned out that catching sight of a person who'd ran off away from her and immediately gone and done murder really touched a fucking nerve. Garnet was learning new things about herself all the time!
"Hey!" Garnet barked as she stormed along the little path she saw now led down to a cave mouth. "Hey!"
No—Marco was just standing there, like everything was okay. Like it was totally-freaking-chill that Kayla was lying dead on the floor sliced up into bloody ribbons, abandoned there like spoiled fucking meat. Sure just get-the-frick-up and move-the-frick-on, leave the dead where they lie, not like they fucking mattered! Not as if they were a living, breathing person until you came along!
"Nona—" Garnet cut herself off, taking a breath, feeling guilty for an instant before rage rushed right back in to fill in the gaps. Her fists clenched so hard they hurt. "What the fuck, dude!?"
If he had the absolute balls to ask for elaboration on what she meant, Garnet was going to sock him in the jaw.
She really did try not to be mad.
It's just, well, turned out that catching sight of a person who'd ran off away from her and immediately gone and done murder really touched a fucking nerve. Garnet was learning new things about herself all the time!
"Hey!" Garnet barked as she stormed along the little path she saw now led down to a cave mouth. "Hey!"
No—Marco was just standing there, like everything was okay. Like it was totally-freaking-chill that Kayla was lying dead on the floor sliced up into bloody ribbons, abandoned there like spoiled fucking meat. Sure just get-the-frick-up and move-the-frick-on, leave the dead where they lie, not like they fucking mattered! Not as if they were a living, breathing person until you came along!
"Nona—" Garnet cut herself off, taking a breath, feeling guilty for an instant before rage rushed right back in to fill in the gaps. Her fists clenched so hard they hurt. "What the fuck, dude!?"
If he had the absolute balls to ask for elaboration on what she meant, Garnet was going to sock him in the jaw.
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Marco watched raindrops melt together in blurred vision out of sync with the splashing rhythm against the cave's entrance. It couldn't have been long, Nick and Axel had just stepped away not more than minutes ago. His mind was racing past a solid connection to time scanning, scanning, scanning, scanning, movement to the right, focusing, scanning, a glint, focusing, movement to the left, scanning, scanning, focusing, movement to the right, scanning, movement to the left, scanning, movement above, scanning, movement to the left the right the left straight ahead above the right scanning scanning scanning
There was nothing.
He saw what he wanted.
If he let himself drift further out he could imagine hearing what he wanted. Nick crying out for his help, Axel swearing and running up with their supplies, the pair of them closing in on him from both sides collapsing knowing that it was the right thing that he was dangerous and a thief allies running up the path but too late too slow too stupid they wouldn't save him and if they wanted to try Marco and Nick would finish what the intruders started faces names numbers all unimportant they would keep fighting and killing and winning and harmonizing and nothing outside this cave could take that from them from him it was his he deserved this it had been earned and if he had to keep proving that he could he would all he needed was opportunity give it to him give it to him give it to
Movement. Real movement. Yelling. It didn't bring Marco back. It spoke a name that sent him spinning to the school hallways.
Garnet meant well. No, that wasn't a fair way to put it. It implied that despite her intentions she did wrong. Wrong implied a more correct alternative; in that light nothing Garnet did was wrong. When she called that name it was almost always for his benefit in some way. The exact words were muddy but the sentiments floated at the surface; Nona, have you eaten? Nona, do you need a hug? Nona, when did you get to sleep last night? Nona, why are you crying? Nona, do you want to hang out at practice? Nona, who do I need to yell at? Nona, are you okay?
Her voice had many shades. Almost all the ones directed at Marco had been objectively positive. Still when Garnet called out to him, he'd always found himself flinching. As a rule people made him afraid, but Garnet was one of the few people who consistently went out of her way to make him feel safe. It wasn't fair that despite all her efforts, no amount of warmth or excitement in her voice could shake his fear of being singled out.
Now it cut through the rain full of anger he hadn't experienced directly. The way she advanced made it clear that any moment now she could hurt him, maybe that she even wanted to, that the safety that had become habit between them was stripped away, disgust boiling over in its place.
Marco's vision cleared as he stared at her. He came back to reality, but not in a panicked rush. It was like circling a drain, lazy and unaware until the last gurgle of his consciousness pouring into place went silent.
Nona, what the fuck dude?
He didn't flinch. Only looked up at her with glassy eyes.
"My name is Marco. If you heard about...then you heard. It's Marco now."
There was nothing.
He saw what he wanted.
If he let himself drift further out he could imagine hearing what he wanted. Nick crying out for his help, Axel swearing and running up with their supplies, the pair of them closing in on him from both sides collapsing knowing that it was the right thing that he was dangerous and a thief allies running up the path but too late too slow too stupid they wouldn't save him and if they wanted to try Marco and Nick would finish what the intruders started faces names numbers all unimportant they would keep fighting and killing and winning and harmonizing and nothing outside this cave could take that from them from him it was his he deserved this it had been earned and if he had to keep proving that he could he would all he needed was opportunity give it to him give it to him give it to
Movement. Real movement. Yelling. It didn't bring Marco back. It spoke a name that sent him spinning to the school hallways.
Garnet meant well. No, that wasn't a fair way to put it. It implied that despite her intentions she did wrong. Wrong implied a more correct alternative; in that light nothing Garnet did was wrong. When she called that name it was almost always for his benefit in some way. The exact words were muddy but the sentiments floated at the surface; Nona, have you eaten? Nona, do you need a hug? Nona, when did you get to sleep last night? Nona, why are you crying? Nona, do you want to hang out at practice? Nona, who do I need to yell at? Nona, are you okay?
Her voice had many shades. Almost all the ones directed at Marco had been objectively positive. Still when Garnet called out to him, he'd always found himself flinching. As a rule people made him afraid, but Garnet was one of the few people who consistently went out of her way to make him feel safe. It wasn't fair that despite all her efforts, no amount of warmth or excitement in her voice could shake his fear of being singled out.
Now it cut through the rain full of anger he hadn't experienced directly. The way she advanced made it clear that any moment now she could hurt him, maybe that she even wanted to, that the safety that had become habit between them was stripped away, disgust boiling over in its place.
Marco's vision cleared as he stared at her. He came back to reality, but not in a panicked rush. It was like circling a drain, lazy and unaware until the last gurgle of his consciousness pouring into place went silent.
Nona, what the fuck dude?
He didn't flinch. Only looked up at her with glassy eyes.
"My name is Marco. If you heard about...then you heard. It's Marco now."
Garnet found she was having a little trouble keeping her breathing steady, even when taking that conscious effort to slow down and moderate herself. She was trembling slightly, and for once it wasn't big game nerves or excited vibrations. She was pissed. She was more pissed than she could ever remember getting. More than Entei running away for the fifth time, more than the official giving them nothing in the semi-finals, more than bullies picking on her friends, more than Canon spreading hate speech on TV.
It poured off her in waves. Her cheeks were hot, her body felt hot. She was a lil bit surprised that the rain wasn't hissing off into steam where it touched her.
Marco stared at her. Garnet glared back, chest rising and falling erratically. Garnet couldn't be angry about the correction, about the only thing she couldn't be mad about, cause you had to show some basic decency and respect. If someone was trans and toxic and horrible you never ever reached to hurt them with that. If someone just killed a person, you still had to swallow your craw and not be an asshole. Two wrongs didn't make a right.
It flitted through her head. Other words joined it. Things she could say. Assurances she could give. Condemnations. Screaming rages. Wordless screams. Everything blended together in a mixture of let's-not-be-transphobic and I-don't-fucking-care-you-came-out-Kayla's-dead.
"Cool gender! Still murder!"
That worked.
"What the fuck, Marco!?"
It poured off her in waves. Her cheeks were hot, her body felt hot. She was a lil bit surprised that the rain wasn't hissing off into steam where it touched her.
Marco stared at her. Garnet glared back, chest rising and falling erratically. Garnet couldn't be angry about the correction, about the only thing she couldn't be mad about, cause you had to show some basic decency and respect. If someone was trans and toxic and horrible you never ever reached to hurt them with that. If someone just killed a person, you still had to swallow your craw and not be an asshole. Two wrongs didn't make a right.
It flitted through her head. Other words joined it. Things she could say. Assurances she could give. Condemnations. Screaming rages. Wordless screams. Everything blended together in a mixture of let's-not-be-transphobic and I-don't-fucking-care-you-came-out-Kayla's-dead.
"Cool gender! Still murder!"
That worked.
"What the fuck, Marco!?"
Axel'd had to sling his arm over Nick's shoulder to get to the back of the cave, which was awkward because he was tall as fuck and also because he couldn't really hold his pile of clothing in a way that both didn't result in him dropping half of it while also covering his dick. So he kinda had to give up on the second thing, which was probably fine because Nick wasn't looking, he was pretty sure, because it would be weird of him to be looking considering the circumstances, but also it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before so it didn't really matter if he looked anyway? It was kinda a matter of principle, like, this was not a dick observational sort of situation, and Nick probably had the situational awareness to realize that, but Axel never really won out betting on other people's ability to not be weird as shit.
Also like Nick murdered someone. That made the whole thing weirder, somehow? Like he wondered how Ted Bundy's ex-girlfriends felt.
He had to take Nick's hand again to lower himself down to the cave floor without falling flat on his ass again. The stone floor was cold but on the bright side he could pile his clothes back over his crotch, so that was one problem solved. His heart was still pounding somewhere in his throat and he was still lowkey wondering if Nick just wanted a more secluded romantic kinda spot to do another murder in but at least he'd be slightly less naked for it if it happened, right? So, like, success.
"I, uh."
Nick'd asked if he needed anything, which was kind of a loaded question.
"Haven't been taking care of myself great, I guess. Could just use, like, some water? Bite of an energy bar or something would probably help. Like, if you can spare any."
He shrugged, awkwardly, everything was kinda awkward here though so whatever.
"Or like, I can stay here forever and die I guess, I think those are the options I'm working with here."
Also like Nick murdered someone. That made the whole thing weirder, somehow? Like he wondered how Ted Bundy's ex-girlfriends felt.
He had to take Nick's hand again to lower himself down to the cave floor without falling flat on his ass again. The stone floor was cold but on the bright side he could pile his clothes back over his crotch, so that was one problem solved. His heart was still pounding somewhere in his throat and he was still lowkey wondering if Nick just wanted a more secluded romantic kinda spot to do another murder in but at least he'd be slightly less naked for it if it happened, right? So, like, success.
"I, uh."
Nick'd asked if he needed anything, which was kind of a loaded question.
"Haven't been taking care of myself great, I guess. Could just use, like, some water? Bite of an energy bar or something would probably help. Like, if you can spare any."
He shrugged, awkwardly, everything was kinda awkward here though so whatever.
"Or like, I can stay here forever and die I guess, I think those are the options I'm working with here."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
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General Goose
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Nick sat down, back against the cave wall opposite from Axel. There was distance between the two, and Nick crossed his legs and his arms to maximise that distance, to show that he wasn't primed to pounce and launch a surprise attack. Nick was being hyperconscious of personal space, now that he'd gotten Axel away from the elements and away from the immediate risk of any ambush or unwelcome follower.
That wasn't to say Nick didn't value touch. He was someone who loved every kind of touching. It was just...well, he was the sort of guy who'd hug his friends or playfully punch their arm or tousle a shorter person's hair or whatever. What he liked most about Marco as an ally was that, well, Marco hugged him, and fuck if Nick didn't need that. Right now, though, Nick knew that was a luxury, one that he had no right to insist upon.
And he knew that Axel, though he had inexplicably seen fit to trust him for now, had every reason to be terrified. Nick wasn't sure he could handle the mental discomfort and torment that would come from Axel recoiling at his touch or moving to cover his throat or even just watching every little motion for fear that Nick might lash out. Nick was being cagey in his body language partially for Axel's sake, to put him at ease and give him the first opportunity to strike or run or whatever would the fancy take him, but mainly for his own. Nick was fine with rejection, except when it made sense.
Axel asked for help. Nick nodded. He sat up, reached over to his bag (being very careful not to disturb Marco's belongings), and pulled out a bottle of water and an energy bar. Throwing the bar first, then the bottle of water, Nick followed it up by picking out a half-finished bar and a half-empty bottle of water for himself. "Enjoy. Unless you need me to take the packaging off and unscrew the lid." His tone was facetious and irreverent, but there was truth to it - if Axel truly was so weak, he'd do that, happily.
"Staying here's fine, but I'm less keen on the dying bit. So let's try and avoid that for now." Nick shrugged, taking a sip. Nick had started off drinking his water rather clumsily - letting nerves and bodily needs dictate to him, drinking way too much, spilling an obscene amount over his beard and torso. Now he drank more deliberately, taking the better part of a minute to unscrew the lid, take the sip, and put it back on.
That wasn't to say Nick didn't value touch. He was someone who loved every kind of touching. It was just...well, he was the sort of guy who'd hug his friends or playfully punch their arm or tousle a shorter person's hair or whatever. What he liked most about Marco as an ally was that, well, Marco hugged him, and fuck if Nick didn't need that. Right now, though, Nick knew that was a luxury, one that he had no right to insist upon.
And he knew that Axel, though he had inexplicably seen fit to trust him for now, had every reason to be terrified. Nick wasn't sure he could handle the mental discomfort and torment that would come from Axel recoiling at his touch or moving to cover his throat or even just watching every little motion for fear that Nick might lash out. Nick was being cagey in his body language partially for Axel's sake, to put him at ease and give him the first opportunity to strike or run or whatever would the fancy take him, but mainly for his own. Nick was fine with rejection, except when it made sense.
Axel asked for help. Nick nodded. He sat up, reached over to his bag (being very careful not to disturb Marco's belongings), and pulled out a bottle of water and an energy bar. Throwing the bar first, then the bottle of water, Nick followed it up by picking out a half-finished bar and a half-empty bottle of water for himself. "Enjoy. Unless you need me to take the packaging off and unscrew the lid." His tone was facetious and irreverent, but there was truth to it - if Axel truly was so weak, he'd do that, happily.
"Staying here's fine, but I'm less keen on the dying bit. So let's try and avoid that for now." Nick shrugged, taking a sip. Nick had started off drinking his water rather clumsily - letting nerves and bodily needs dictate to him, drinking way too much, spilling an obscene amount over his beard and torso. Now he drank more deliberately, taking the better part of a minute to unscrew the lid, take the sip, and put it back on.
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"Yes."
Marco kept staring at her, unmoving other than the glove swinging lightly at his side. Stray movement brought the flat ends of the blades scraping against the wall every few passes.
Garnet expected him to...what? Defend himself? Say something profound that made it all better? Deny that it had happened at all? Ask for forgiveness? Ask to be stopped? Possibilities on possibilities spread out through his mind but none of them felt exactly right. It was probably better to just ask. "What do you want me to say? It was an accident? I made a mistake? I'm sorry?" Flat tone picked up some steam by the last word, almost a shout into the rain. He was quiet when he spoke again. "I didn't want Kayla to die and the things...the things after-" Bile welled up in his throat. He swallowed it down. "I was so, s-so sure she wasn't real, if she wasn't real it was okay, it was just a trick so I kept looking and..."
It might have been his imagination but her fists still seemed to be shaking. if she came at him, he'd...it didn't play out cinematic ally like he imagined with Axel. The opportunity didn't feel as just even though the character he'd written for him was just a thief while Garnet might seriously hurt him for what he'd done. He hesitated to block the choreography just the same, picturing it made his stomach roll. It came though, the resistance of her flesh under his knives, her fist in his face, screaming begging sobbing in two voices he couldn't pick out which was dying and which was killing but there was only one on either side and soon there would only be one period and
There were tears in his eyes. He didn't move from the wall. "You shouldn't be here. It's not safe for you."
Marco kept staring at her, unmoving other than the glove swinging lightly at his side. Stray movement brought the flat ends of the blades scraping against the wall every few passes.
Garnet expected him to...what? Defend himself? Say something profound that made it all better? Deny that it had happened at all? Ask for forgiveness? Ask to be stopped? Possibilities on possibilities spread out through his mind but none of them felt exactly right. It was probably better to just ask. "What do you want me to say? It was an accident? I made a mistake? I'm sorry?" Flat tone picked up some steam by the last word, almost a shout into the rain. He was quiet when he spoke again. "I didn't want Kayla to die and the things...the things after-" Bile welled up in his throat. He swallowed it down. "I was so, s-so sure she wasn't real, if she wasn't real it was okay, it was just a trick so I kept looking and..."
It might have been his imagination but her fists still seemed to be shaking. if she came at him, he'd...it didn't play out cinematic ally like he imagined with Axel. The opportunity didn't feel as just even though the character he'd written for him was just a thief while Garnet might seriously hurt him for what he'd done. He hesitated to block the choreography just the same, picturing it made his stomach roll. It came though, the resistance of her flesh under his knives, her fist in his face, screaming begging sobbing in two voices he couldn't pick out which was dying and which was killing but there was only one on either side and soon there would only be one period and
There were tears in his eyes. He didn't move from the wall. "You shouldn't be here. It's not safe for you."
Sometimes, when Garnet was upset, angry, or otherwise struggling to deal with her emotions, she would play a game. Maybe game wasn't the right word; she used a strategy, a way of disconnecting herself from the feelings for a second and help her look at things with better clarity. Or, well, just make her laugh, but if she could start laughing instead of crying, then she was already halfway to fixing the problem, right?
The game—exercise? Roleplay?—was called 'What would Song do?'
If the barbarian she played in tabletop was here, then how would she approach this situation? How would she react?
Usually that helped her think. Garnet would go 'well obviously the first thing would be what in the name of the Lands is a basketball?', or 'I care not for QUIZZES, true knowledge and understanding is not found on paper!'', or 'True friendship transcends petty arguments!'. Even if Garnet could only stay in the mindset for a couple seconds, it was generally long enough to help her feel a tiny bit better, or at least not let negativity start spiralling wildly out of control.
Your friend killed—didn't just kill, horribly maimed, ripped to shreds—someone because he needed a reality check. He killed someone because everything seemed so unreal to him he had to do something completely horrible and beyond the realms of normal to prove that it was actually happening.
What would Song do?
Knock some sense into him. Grab him by the shoulders and shake. Rage around the place, breaks thing, and, and...
Garnet looked away, clenched her jaw, screwing her eyes as tightly shut as she could manage, so hard it hurt. Her fists trembled, knuckles white, the coins digging into her palm with enough force she thought they might warp.
...and be there for her friend. Tell him he had to do better.
"I am here," she said. Her voice was low, hurting, boiling and bubbling. "And if it's not safe because of you, you have a choice about that Marco."
Half, maybe even more, wanted to take a swing at him. She held on with all that she had.
The game—exercise? Roleplay?—was called 'What would Song do?'
If the barbarian she played in tabletop was here, then how would she approach this situation? How would she react?
Usually that helped her think. Garnet would go 'well obviously the first thing would be what in the name of the Lands is a basketball?', or 'I care not for QUIZZES, true knowledge and understanding is not found on paper!'', or 'True friendship transcends petty arguments!'. Even if Garnet could only stay in the mindset for a couple seconds, it was generally long enough to help her feel a tiny bit better, or at least not let negativity start spiralling wildly out of control.
Your friend killed—didn't just kill, horribly maimed, ripped to shreds—someone because he needed a reality check. He killed someone because everything seemed so unreal to him he had to do something completely horrible and beyond the realms of normal to prove that it was actually happening.
What would Song do?
Knock some sense into him. Grab him by the shoulders and shake. Rage around the place, breaks thing, and, and...
Garnet looked away, clenched her jaw, screwing her eyes as tightly shut as she could manage, so hard it hurt. Her fists trembled, knuckles white, the coins digging into her palm with enough force she thought they might warp.
...and be there for her friend. Tell him he had to do better.
"I am here," she said. Her voice was low, hurting, boiling and bubbling. "And if it's not safe because of you, you have a choice about that Marco."
Half, maybe even more, wanted to take a swing at him. She held on with all that she had.
"Yeah, yeah, fuck you too."
Check out the big fucking brain on Axel, telling a dude who killed two people to go fuck himself. Like, y'know, in a fun, friend way, but was anything really a fun friend-thing anymore? Nick could pretty much take any excuse he wanted to stab Axel in the throat and it wasn't like there was anything he'd be able to do about it. The words just kinda came out of his mouth without filtering through his brain first and he froze solid once he heard them, eyes flicking back to Nick to make sure he wasn't suddenly in barbarian frenzy mode.
He wasn't. He looked kind of... sad. That was weirdly deflating. He told him not to die in the most casual tone possible and he just nodded because it was still super weird to think about how they still weren't talking about the meme kind of dying, they were talking about the for-real kind, the bleeding, choking, crying, not existing anymore kind, the kind Nick knew about real fucking well by now didn't he, funny how that kept cycling around to the front of Axel's thoughts. He was grateful Nick hadn't tried to like. Hug him, or anything, because he would've launched himself to the other side of the fucking cave so fast and he wasn't actually. Capable of doing that, right now. So he probably would have just fallen on his ass again, and he was already pretty sure he'd bruised his tailbone, so no thanks.
He figured Nick was making fun of him about opening the water bottle for him, but when he went to do it himself he realized his hands were trembling so bad he genuinely wasn't sure he could manage. Actually asking for help would be completely humiliating, obviously, so he went for opening it with his teeth and then immediately pouring water down his throat like he'd just flopped headfirst into a desert fucking oasis.
Oh shit, he hadn't actually said thank you, had he.
"Tha-"
Fuck he should have waited until he was done drinking. It would be super cool if his brain would like filter stuff, to go in like an order that made sense, instead of exactly the wrong order literally all of the time. He coughed, spraying water in front of him, pounding his own chest for a second until it cleared.
The funny thing was he figured he'd figure out how to be less of an absolute dumbass all the time, like, one day, maybe, and it turned out he was totally wrong and he was just gonna have been a dumbass for his entire life!
That wasn't funny.
"Thanks."
Mikki was dead, he remembered. Mikki was dead and Andy was out there somewhere and nothing was really funny actually.
"I shouldn't..." stay long, he thought, but that was kind of a rude thing to say to someone who just helped you, so he could pass on that for now. He shook his head.
"Who, uh. Have you seen anyone?"
Tristan?, he didn't say, because wow considering what happened with Beryl Axel really didn't want Nick to have run into Tristan.
Check out the big fucking brain on Axel, telling a dude who killed two people to go fuck himself. Like, y'know, in a fun, friend way, but was anything really a fun friend-thing anymore? Nick could pretty much take any excuse he wanted to stab Axel in the throat and it wasn't like there was anything he'd be able to do about it. The words just kinda came out of his mouth without filtering through his brain first and he froze solid once he heard them, eyes flicking back to Nick to make sure he wasn't suddenly in barbarian frenzy mode.
He wasn't. He looked kind of... sad. That was weirdly deflating. He told him not to die in the most casual tone possible and he just nodded because it was still super weird to think about how they still weren't talking about the meme kind of dying, they were talking about the for-real kind, the bleeding, choking, crying, not existing anymore kind, the kind Nick knew about real fucking well by now didn't he, funny how that kept cycling around to the front of Axel's thoughts. He was grateful Nick hadn't tried to like. Hug him, or anything, because he would've launched himself to the other side of the fucking cave so fast and he wasn't actually. Capable of doing that, right now. So he probably would have just fallen on his ass again, and he was already pretty sure he'd bruised his tailbone, so no thanks.
He figured Nick was making fun of him about opening the water bottle for him, but when he went to do it himself he realized his hands were trembling so bad he genuinely wasn't sure he could manage. Actually asking for help would be completely humiliating, obviously, so he went for opening it with his teeth and then immediately pouring water down his throat like he'd just flopped headfirst into a desert fucking oasis.
Oh shit, he hadn't actually said thank you, had he.
"Tha-"
Fuck he should have waited until he was done drinking. It would be super cool if his brain would like filter stuff, to go in like an order that made sense, instead of exactly the wrong order literally all of the time. He coughed, spraying water in front of him, pounding his own chest for a second until it cleared.
The funny thing was he figured he'd figure out how to be less of an absolute dumbass all the time, like, one day, maybe, and it turned out he was totally wrong and he was just gonna have been a dumbass for his entire life!
That wasn't funny.
"Thanks."
Mikki was dead, he remembered. Mikki was dead and Andy was out there somewhere and nothing was really funny actually.
"I shouldn't..." stay long, he thought, but that was kind of a rude thing to say to someone who just helped you, so he could pass on that for now. He shook his head.
"Who, uh. Have you seen anyone?"
Tristan?, he didn't say, because wow considering what happened with Beryl Axel really didn't want Nick to have run into Tristan.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
This was...nice?
Well, as nice as anything Nick had endured over the past few days. Being told 'fuck you' in a joking and lighthearted way - the sort of witty profane repartee that he had with his siblings and his more flippant friends - was quite nice. Not exactly heartwarming, because, well, it was still being told to go fuck himself, but it made him feel normal. For just a moment.
Well, not normal. Under any normal circumstances, he would have showered and then retreated into his room to browse videos on YouTube or brush up on history, and he wouldn't have two deaths forever seared onto his conscience and tied to his name, but it was a reminder of something so trivial, so taken-for-granted, that it was like he was able to be reminded what normal felt like.
But he was hanging out with someone that he would have hung out with - and that wasn't an insult to Marco, just that, well, they didn't really have the one-on-one vent about problems to each other and talk candidly relationship before the island, more just moving in the same circles - and having interactions that weren't forced, that weren't painful. He had the latter with Marco, sure, but it was comforting to know that Nick didn't need that shared bond of being, well, a killer to socialise with people. He could still...not pick up where he left off, but sorta reconnect with people, demonstrate that there was some decency, as much as there had ever been, beneath the surface.
Then Nick laughed at Axel accidentally spraying water all over himself in a rush to pay heed to the concept of manners. And Nick should have been annoyed at the water being wasted, but fuck it, he'd given the water to Axel and gotten a good laugh out of it, and that was a decent trade.
However quietly, the sombre reality of the situation returned soon enough, and Nick shrugged at Axel's question. "Michael Froese, who was...well, I didn't know he cared about Beryl as much as he did, but..." He didn't know if it was reciprocated, but Nick realised how little he really knew Beryl anyway. That it was a mere teenage relationship, Nick's first polyamorous adventure, seemed all the more profound now, robbing everything of meaning retroactively. "I guess I didn't really know her that well in the end anyway." Nick knew that she'd been suffering. That was enough.
"He was there when...well, Jeremiah attacked me. And I sorta get why, considering..." Nick shrugged again. He wasn't sure why sometimes he danced around the blunt nature of what he'd done, while other times he stuck to evasive circumlocution even in his own mind. "He has form for striking me first. And it was a nasty and brutish fight but I threw one punch that just put him out of commission, and he was with Nia and Alexander, and they hate me too, now, but...they're alive." Nick realised slightly too late the argument that he was semi-implying there. Nia and Alexander, mute and blind, and if Jeremiah had been taken out of the picture, Nick could have easily taken them out too if he'd wanted too. But he didn't. He had, however inadvertently, pleaded that their survival was in some way an act of laudable moral upstandingness on his part.
Nick suddenly felt the headache that Jeremiah had left behind - a pitiful and insultingly meagre legacy, his mourning far less ornate than what had been done for Beryl - and rubbed his head to try and mollify the symptoms. He had started crying, he realised belatedly, at some point during that mea culpa. "I met some other people too. At the start. People like Henry Sparks and...some others." Fuck. In the moment, the periphery around what happened with Beryl seemed insignificant.
He exhaled. "Fuck. Uh. Yeah. That's my gossip. What have you got?"
Well, as nice as anything Nick had endured over the past few days. Being told 'fuck you' in a joking and lighthearted way - the sort of witty profane repartee that he had with his siblings and his more flippant friends - was quite nice. Not exactly heartwarming, because, well, it was still being told to go fuck himself, but it made him feel normal. For just a moment.
Well, not normal. Under any normal circumstances, he would have showered and then retreated into his room to browse videos on YouTube or brush up on history, and he wouldn't have two deaths forever seared onto his conscience and tied to his name, but it was a reminder of something so trivial, so taken-for-granted, that it was like he was able to be reminded what normal felt like.
But he was hanging out with someone that he would have hung out with - and that wasn't an insult to Marco, just that, well, they didn't really have the one-on-one vent about problems to each other and talk candidly relationship before the island, more just moving in the same circles - and having interactions that weren't forced, that weren't painful. He had the latter with Marco, sure, but it was comforting to know that Nick didn't need that shared bond of being, well, a killer to socialise with people. He could still...not pick up where he left off, but sorta reconnect with people, demonstrate that there was some decency, as much as there had ever been, beneath the surface.
Then Nick laughed at Axel accidentally spraying water all over himself in a rush to pay heed to the concept of manners. And Nick should have been annoyed at the water being wasted, but fuck it, he'd given the water to Axel and gotten a good laugh out of it, and that was a decent trade.
However quietly, the sombre reality of the situation returned soon enough, and Nick shrugged at Axel's question. "Michael Froese, who was...well, I didn't know he cared about Beryl as much as he did, but..." He didn't know if it was reciprocated, but Nick realised how little he really knew Beryl anyway. That it was a mere teenage relationship, Nick's first polyamorous adventure, seemed all the more profound now, robbing everything of meaning retroactively. "I guess I didn't really know her that well in the end anyway." Nick knew that she'd been suffering. That was enough.
"He was there when...well, Jeremiah attacked me. And I sorta get why, considering..." Nick shrugged again. He wasn't sure why sometimes he danced around the blunt nature of what he'd done, while other times he stuck to evasive circumlocution even in his own mind. "He has form for striking me first. And it was a nasty and brutish fight but I threw one punch that just put him out of commission, and he was with Nia and Alexander, and they hate me too, now, but...they're alive." Nick realised slightly too late the argument that he was semi-implying there. Nia and Alexander, mute and blind, and if Jeremiah had been taken out of the picture, Nick could have easily taken them out too if he'd wanted too. But he didn't. He had, however inadvertently, pleaded that their survival was in some way an act of laudable moral upstandingness on his part.
Nick suddenly felt the headache that Jeremiah had left behind - a pitiful and insultingly meagre legacy, his mourning far less ornate than what had been done for Beryl - and rubbed his head to try and mollify the symptoms. He had started crying, he realised belatedly, at some point during that mea culpa. "I met some other people too. At the start. People like Henry Sparks and...some others." Fuck. In the moment, the periphery around what happened with Beryl seemed insignificant.
He exhaled. "Fuck. Uh. Yeah. That's my gossip. What have you got?"
Maybe he should have considered how that question was gonna get Nick talking about murder again.
Honestly Axel hadn't really thought about it, mostly because his own experiences with people were so devoid of murder, the way experiences with people tended to be most of the time. There was Lorenzo—fuck, he'd forgotten about that for a minute—he hadn't killed anyone, when they met him, but Emmett and Sapphire were there and he might have, must have, after they left—that was his closest call, though. He didn't actually see it happen, so it was kind of an abstraction, still. Morgan had been hurt bad, but he was alive. He hadn't seen any bodies, any injuries worse than what he'd wound up with after a few too many drinks at a few too many parties.
Nick had seen everything.
He tried to focus on the names, the new ones. Michael Froese sounded familiar in a "maybe we had bio lab or something together at some point" sorta way. Nia was "that mute girl" and that was pretty much it. Alexander was a little more familiar, mostly because he took the whole "band rivalry" thing a little more serious than Beryl had. Like, dude had a decent voice and a half-decent look, but frontmen had to have more swagger than that guy was ever gonna possess, and hey, his band was fine and all, but it was a bummer they'd never had a proper battle-of-the-bands-thing so the Deadbeats could properly kick their asses.
But hey, their band was down a member, and the Deadbeats weren't, which meant they won by default, right? Hahaha he was going to hell.
Henry was another vague we-did-a-group-project-once kinda name and that was all. No one that really mattered to him. He frowned, frustrated, but when he looked up at Nick he realized his cheeks were wet and not from the rain. Obviously not from the rain. Because they were in a cave. Axel thought about making that stupid joke out loud and then decided against it.
His gossip, huh? Gossip was a word.
"Woke up with Andy," he started, stretching his mind to remember. There were girls there, on the lake, but he didn't remember any of them. No one he knew, anyway. Hopefully no one Nick was looking for. "We, uh, ran into Morgan, Morgan... I could never pronounce his last name, anyway he said he'd run into the Carters and he looked it, dude was rough." He took another gulp of his water, the bottle already half-empty. He was starting to notice how fucking hungry he actually was, now that his thirst was semi-quenched.
"Lorenzo, fuck, you know Lorenzo. He showed up, was being... kind of a dick, like, that's how he is in general, but—he looked rough also, don't remember what he said happened. Emmett and Sapphire turned up and things got ugly so, like, me and Andy bounced, dragged Morgan with us."
God, he didn't want to think about Lorenzo. Nick was right here in front of him, giving him water, looking like he felt at least kinda bad about killing people. Lorenzo hadn't killed anyone when he met him, but he sounded like he wanted to. He sounded like he wasn't about to regret a goddamn thing.
"Anyway, we ran into Lucas, the shitty Facebook one, and he was a whiny little shitweasel like he always is, Andy was in a mood so we ditched him and Morgan—oh, fuck, Abe. We ran into Abe, too." He scratched the back of his neck. Honestly he had no idea if the Axel And Abe Fucked One Time, It Was Weird info had spread past the two of them and, like, Hel. Always possible he'd told someone at some point when he was dead drunk. Didn't matter much now, probably.
He really had to, like, maybe talk to Abe? Before one of them was dead? That'd be nice, unless it was shitty, in which case it would be shitty, probably.
"... We, the three of us, I mean, made camp near the lake, and I was in a trash mood so I decided to go for a walk and then I got dead lost and found out my ex-girlfriend's dead and Lorenzo killed someone, so," he laughed? He didn't know why he was laughing. It was this weird rough choppy noise and his throat hurt again.
"I dunno, man. That's all. Was looking for shelter, wound up here."
Honestly Axel hadn't really thought about it, mostly because his own experiences with people were so devoid of murder, the way experiences with people tended to be most of the time. There was Lorenzo—fuck, he'd forgotten about that for a minute—he hadn't killed anyone, when they met him, but Emmett and Sapphire were there and he might have, must have, after they left—that was his closest call, though. He didn't actually see it happen, so it was kind of an abstraction, still. Morgan had been hurt bad, but he was alive. He hadn't seen any bodies, any injuries worse than what he'd wound up with after a few too many drinks at a few too many parties.
Nick had seen everything.
He tried to focus on the names, the new ones. Michael Froese sounded familiar in a "maybe we had bio lab or something together at some point" sorta way. Nia was "that mute girl" and that was pretty much it. Alexander was a little more familiar, mostly because he took the whole "band rivalry" thing a little more serious than Beryl had. Like, dude had a decent voice and a half-decent look, but frontmen had to have more swagger than that guy was ever gonna possess, and hey, his band was fine and all, but it was a bummer they'd never had a proper battle-of-the-bands-thing so the Deadbeats could properly kick their asses.
But hey, their band was down a member, and the Deadbeats weren't, which meant they won by default, right? Hahaha he was going to hell.
Henry was another vague we-did-a-group-project-once kinda name and that was all. No one that really mattered to him. He frowned, frustrated, but when he looked up at Nick he realized his cheeks were wet and not from the rain. Obviously not from the rain. Because they were in a cave. Axel thought about making that stupid joke out loud and then decided against it.
His gossip, huh? Gossip was a word.
"Woke up with Andy," he started, stretching his mind to remember. There were girls there, on the lake, but he didn't remember any of them. No one he knew, anyway. Hopefully no one Nick was looking for. "We, uh, ran into Morgan, Morgan... I could never pronounce his last name, anyway he said he'd run into the Carters and he looked it, dude was rough." He took another gulp of his water, the bottle already half-empty. He was starting to notice how fucking hungry he actually was, now that his thirst was semi-quenched.
"Lorenzo, fuck, you know Lorenzo. He showed up, was being... kind of a dick, like, that's how he is in general, but—he looked rough also, don't remember what he said happened. Emmett and Sapphire turned up and things got ugly so, like, me and Andy bounced, dragged Morgan with us."
God, he didn't want to think about Lorenzo. Nick was right here in front of him, giving him water, looking like he felt at least kinda bad about killing people. Lorenzo hadn't killed anyone when he met him, but he sounded like he wanted to. He sounded like he wasn't about to regret a goddamn thing.
"Anyway, we ran into Lucas, the shitty Facebook one, and he was a whiny little shitweasel like he always is, Andy was in a mood so we ditched him and Morgan—oh, fuck, Abe. We ran into Abe, too." He scratched the back of his neck. Honestly he had no idea if the Axel And Abe Fucked One Time, It Was Weird info had spread past the two of them and, like, Hel. Always possible he'd told someone at some point when he was dead drunk. Didn't matter much now, probably.
He really had to, like, maybe talk to Abe? Before one of them was dead? That'd be nice, unless it was shitty, in which case it would be shitty, probably.
"... We, the three of us, I mean, made camp near the lake, and I was in a trash mood so I decided to go for a walk and then I got dead lost and found out my ex-girlfriend's dead and Lorenzo killed someone, so," he laughed? He didn't know why he was laughing. It was this weird rough choppy noise and his throat hurt again.
"I dunno, man. That's all. Was looking for shelter, wound up here."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
Listening was easier than talking. Way easier. Nick was a good listener. He'd never capitalised on that strength. Never exactly advertised it. Nick liked to listen, he just usually enjoyed being listened to more. But that preference had changed. For good, quite possibly.
Nick nibbled on an energy bar, interspersed with placid sips of water (he'd be generous with others, but economical with the stuff for himself), as Axel gave his own story. There was a contrast between the two, that much was clear. Whereas Nick seemed to gravitate towards trouble and attract every conceivable type of drama, Axel was...more passive? Nick didn't mean that as an insult. Nick had to, if anything, applaud the implied restraint and pragmatism that Axel was showing. He was envious of it. Seemed like an easier ride.
He knew that was wrong, though. Comparing miseries was a stupid endeavour. But Axel had been behaving correctly. Ditching people who were trouble. Not sticking his neck out, but not being a selfish arsehole either. Avoiding fuelling more chaos. Not playing into the terrorists' hands.
It was like Nick had said to Michael - had it been Michael? - earlier. Michael hadn't responded, but Nick knew that it was people like him, people who got into fights and got obnoxiously mired in personal drama, who made this sort of thing work. Nick wasn't malicious, hadn't been acting with any premeditated ill intent, but he'd played his role in creating a climate of fear and paranoia, in kicking in motion the wheels of violence. Nick kept that thought to himself for now.
Everything about it rang true. Somehow every name that Nick heard as being antagonistic or unstable made sense. He knew he had no right to criticise. Others were probably thinking exactly the same about him. But it felt, at moments, like it was just a low-stakes session of gossiping, where strange hookups and useful nicknames were par for the course. That illusion was never maintained for long, but long enough.
Some names stuck out to Nick, though.
"What uh...what kind of a dick was Lorenzo being?" Lorenzo's dickishness was, again, part of his whole thing. In an earlier and more innocent time, Nick had of course found that attractive. Not any more, though. The type of dickishness had very much changed. Nick was curious about Lorenzo because, well, Lorenzo was another killer. Another killer that he had history with. That he knew. Nick wanted to know how he compared. If he could allow himself a slither of moral superiority.
Plus, it was a chance to get more details. Especially as...
Oh. Yeah. Nick belatedly made the mental connection. "Do you think that's when, uh, Sapphire...uh..."
Nick took another bite to distract from the need to finish his sentence.
"Abe was...there. With Beryl. When it happened. I think."
Nick nibbled on an energy bar, interspersed with placid sips of water (he'd be generous with others, but economical with the stuff for himself), as Axel gave his own story. There was a contrast between the two, that much was clear. Whereas Nick seemed to gravitate towards trouble and attract every conceivable type of drama, Axel was...more passive? Nick didn't mean that as an insult. Nick had to, if anything, applaud the implied restraint and pragmatism that Axel was showing. He was envious of it. Seemed like an easier ride.
He knew that was wrong, though. Comparing miseries was a stupid endeavour. But Axel had been behaving correctly. Ditching people who were trouble. Not sticking his neck out, but not being a selfish arsehole either. Avoiding fuelling more chaos. Not playing into the terrorists' hands.
It was like Nick had said to Michael - had it been Michael? - earlier. Michael hadn't responded, but Nick knew that it was people like him, people who got into fights and got obnoxiously mired in personal drama, who made this sort of thing work. Nick wasn't malicious, hadn't been acting with any premeditated ill intent, but he'd played his role in creating a climate of fear and paranoia, in kicking in motion the wheels of violence. Nick kept that thought to himself for now.
Everything about it rang true. Somehow every name that Nick heard as being antagonistic or unstable made sense. He knew he had no right to criticise. Others were probably thinking exactly the same about him. But it felt, at moments, like it was just a low-stakes session of gossiping, where strange hookups and useful nicknames were par for the course. That illusion was never maintained for long, but long enough.
Some names stuck out to Nick, though.
"What uh...what kind of a dick was Lorenzo being?" Lorenzo's dickishness was, again, part of his whole thing. In an earlier and more innocent time, Nick had of course found that attractive. Not any more, though. The type of dickishness had very much changed. Nick was curious about Lorenzo because, well, Lorenzo was another killer. Another killer that he had history with. That he knew. Nick wanted to know how he compared. If he could allow himself a slither of moral superiority.
Plus, it was a chance to get more details. Especially as...
Oh. Yeah. Nick belatedly made the mental connection. "Do you think that's when, uh, Sapphire...uh..."
Nick took another bite to distract from the need to finish his sentence.
"Abe was...there. With Beryl. When it happened. I think."
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Emprexx Plush
- Posts: 1678
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 3:37 pm
- Contact:
"I know my ch-choices. I wouldn't...I'm a b-bad person but I wouldn't, wouldn't do that to Kayla again. She didn't deserve it, but..."
"Lecture" seemed like a loaded but fair term when describing his past with Garnet. She genuinely wanted the best for him, that was without doubt. Sometimes...no, most times, it came off like she thought he had no idea what he wanted or needed. Not that that was an entirely inaccurate read, or that he was inclined to resist it even when it was, but it was a stinging reminder of how he'd wasted his life. Always ready to be what someone else needed to the best of his inabilities, afraid to express any opinion not rooted in at least a vague citation or anything close to the word 'no.' The tone was new, as was the barely restricted body language that expressed her desire to beat her version of sense into him if it came to that, but the line of reasoning? Familiar enough. if she hadn't spoken those exact words before in a dozen ranges between exasperation and encouragement she'd communicated their spirit.
Their mildest form: Make a choice, Nona.
The middle of the road: Make the right choice, Nona.
Most aggressive: Make my choice, Nona.
With some rational distance Marco could know that Garnet did not intend to be controlling. Her intentions were good. Commanding rather than manipulative. A predictable path laid over the next few moments: His resolve, then his spine, thin his knees turning to jello. Crawling through the rain and mud. Begging for her forgiveness. Seeking guidance. Deciding to be the better person that she wanted him to be with his weapon and Nick left forgotten in the background. Garnet would keep him in line. They would never be the friends they were again, but what he'd done could be an outlier. One mistaken blemish slowly excused as a moment of madness when he was powerless because right here, right now, Marco made the first right choice of many. That's what she wanted, right? What she knew he needed?
"Did, did you ever know? Before you heard my name, I mean, did you ever even suspect?"
Garnet didn't know anything about the person standing in the mouth of the cave.
"I hid, I mean, I've known for, I've seen what I want to be for so long and none of you ever...I never..." His whole body was vibrating with an energy that refused to coalesce, swirling unidentified from core to extremities. "Never lived. Not really. Not there, not here. I want to go home." The stutters, shaky breaths, twitching glances, urge to scratch, it all stilled as he went on. He focused on her form that now seemed more trembling than restrained.
Marco stood up from against the wall. He would never make an imposing figure compared to her, but it was the first time he could remember his posture straight and unyielding in her presence.
"I wouldn't hurt Kayla again. Some people...some people don't deserve to go home, though. If I have to hurt them...I want, no, I deserve a life. That's my choice, Garnet, and I don't expect you to understand it but please..." His voice and gaze faltered, almost too quiet to be heard under the rain. "Please don't try and stop me. You can hurt me, but you're a good person. I don't think you could kill me."
When the strength returned to his voice, it came in low. Steady. "I don't want to hurt you. But you come at me for revenge, or justice, or...I know. I know I could kill you, if you made me."
There were no more tears in his eyes.
"Lecture" seemed like a loaded but fair term when describing his past with Garnet. She genuinely wanted the best for him, that was without doubt. Sometimes...no, most times, it came off like she thought he had no idea what he wanted or needed. Not that that was an entirely inaccurate read, or that he was inclined to resist it even when it was, but it was a stinging reminder of how he'd wasted his life. Always ready to be what someone else needed to the best of his inabilities, afraid to express any opinion not rooted in at least a vague citation or anything close to the word 'no.' The tone was new, as was the barely restricted body language that expressed her desire to beat her version of sense into him if it came to that, but the line of reasoning? Familiar enough. if she hadn't spoken those exact words before in a dozen ranges between exasperation and encouragement she'd communicated their spirit.
Their mildest form: Make a choice, Nona.
The middle of the road: Make the right choice, Nona.
Most aggressive: Make my choice, Nona.
With some rational distance Marco could know that Garnet did not intend to be controlling. Her intentions were good. Commanding rather than manipulative. A predictable path laid over the next few moments: His resolve, then his spine, thin his knees turning to jello. Crawling through the rain and mud. Begging for her forgiveness. Seeking guidance. Deciding to be the better person that she wanted him to be with his weapon and Nick left forgotten in the background. Garnet would keep him in line. They would never be the friends they were again, but what he'd done could be an outlier. One mistaken blemish slowly excused as a moment of madness when he was powerless because right here, right now, Marco made the first right choice of many. That's what she wanted, right? What she knew he needed?
"Did, did you ever know? Before you heard my name, I mean, did you ever even suspect?"
Garnet didn't know anything about the person standing in the mouth of the cave.
"I hid, I mean, I've known for, I've seen what I want to be for so long and none of you ever...I never..." His whole body was vibrating with an energy that refused to coalesce, swirling unidentified from core to extremities. "Never lived. Not really. Not there, not here. I want to go home." The stutters, shaky breaths, twitching glances, urge to scratch, it all stilled as he went on. He focused on her form that now seemed more trembling than restrained.
Marco stood up from against the wall. He would never make an imposing figure compared to her, but it was the first time he could remember his posture straight and unyielding in her presence.
"I wouldn't hurt Kayla again. Some people...some people don't deserve to go home, though. If I have to hurt them...I want, no, I deserve a life. That's my choice, Garnet, and I don't expect you to understand it but please..." His voice and gaze faltered, almost too quiet to be heard under the rain. "Please don't try and stop me. You can hurt me, but you're a good person. I don't think you could kill me."
When the strength returned to his voice, it came in low. Steady. "I don't want to hurt you. But you come at me for revenge, or justice, or...I know. I know I could kill you, if you made me."
There were no more tears in his eyes.
"The like, maybe murder-y kind?"
Wow that was a weird fucking sentence, but yeah, Lorenzo having been a murder-y kinda dick seemed like a pretty accurate judgment call especially since he'd, y'know, done a murder. Like he probably wouldn't have called him out as being that at the time, partially cause hey, maybe he was just in a bad mood after whoever fucked him up had fucked him up and he wasn't super serious about the "kill an unarmed dude for funsies because he was there" thing. And partially because he had a big fuck-off axe in his hands and Axel had had the World's Shittiest Knife and honestly Lorenzo could beat the shit out of him in a regular fight without sharp things being involved so maybe that wasn't a risk worth taking.
"I dunno, like, we were with Morgan and he was in seriously bad shape, probably concussed, and Renzo made a joke about killing him that kinda sounded like it might not be a joke and me and Andy were just kinda like, what the fuck. And Andy was like, real close to popping off, and that's when Emmett and Sapphire showed up, and ending up in a fight seemed like a real bad idea so we dipped. Oh, uh, he has like, an axe? By the way. Dunno if he's scoped anything else out by now."
He remembered Sapphire, and the spear thing she had. And also that Lorenzo probably killed her with that axe, and also thinking about what that axe could do to a body was not doing great things to his stomach which was unfortunate since he really needed to start shoving food into it. He unwrapped the energy bar with some difficulty because his hands still weren't listening that closely to his brain but the trembling was lessening, little by little. He took a bite. It tasted like sawdust held together with cardboard but legally it was food.
"Sapphire... yeah. I assume." He shrugged because...he had no idea why he shrugged, really. Apparently it was just his body's natural response to things that were fucking terrible. "Like, we met them on day one and we didn't hear her name until this morning but like, they said something about it being during the announcement, right? So like, I dunno, maybe they got away for a while and he went after them, or maybe she just got hurt and didn't die for a while."
That axe was really fucked up and Lorenzo was probably strong enough to bury it in someone's skull and that was also really fucked up? He had mental images to draw on and they were all from horror movies.
"And, uh, I know. Like, about Abe. He's the one who told me. Seemed, like, pretty insistent on making sure I knew the whole story." Not that it actually matters, since you killed another guy anyway, he didn't say because he super didn't feel like getting stabbed.
Maybe he was being unfair, like, if Nick was telling the truth about what happened it sounded like the thing with Jeremiah was basically in self-defense? He could be lying, but he also could have killed Axel by now, so his not being dead was a pretty strong point in Nick's favor. Considering he'd also basically saved his life by sacrificing his own supplies, maybe he could stand to give him the benefit of the doubt. Like, at least a little?
"I..."
He didn't know what to say, though. He couldn't stay long. Andy was probably a fucking wreck and he couldn't even assume they hadn't moved camp without him at this point but he had to find them. Leaving this cave would pretty much be saying goodbye to Nick forever, and that was fine, right? They'd never been super close. He'd spent half the time they'd known each other being super jealous over his boyfriend.
They were just close enough that the concept of never seeing him again pinged his brain in this specifically uncomfortable way, like an itch in a spot he couldn't reach.
He put the thought aside. He couldn't move. He wasn't leaving yet. No reason to get pre-upset.
"I'm, uh, glad I found you. Considering you're not murdering me. And all." Great wording there, very friendly.
"Like... I don't know. Mikki's dead. I'll never see her again. Renzo killed someone and I really doubt he's gonna be as chill about it as you are, I don't even wanna know what the fuck happened with Ty, Andy's probably a mess and I don't know where Hel is or if I'll ever see them alive again and it's just—
He stopped to breathe. He was rapidly running low on chill.
"It's fucked up. Everything's fucked up. I know you know that better than anyone but seriously, man, it's fucking hard to even—I can't wrap my head around it, still. That this is for real. I dunno if I'm gonna accept it until I'm dying."
He shrugged again because that counted as a coping mechanism now?
"So that's probably pretty soon, anyway."
Wow that was a weird fucking sentence, but yeah, Lorenzo having been a murder-y kinda dick seemed like a pretty accurate judgment call especially since he'd, y'know, done a murder. Like he probably wouldn't have called him out as being that at the time, partially cause hey, maybe he was just in a bad mood after whoever fucked him up had fucked him up and he wasn't super serious about the "kill an unarmed dude for funsies because he was there" thing. And partially because he had a big fuck-off axe in his hands and Axel had had the World's Shittiest Knife and honestly Lorenzo could beat the shit out of him in a regular fight without sharp things being involved so maybe that wasn't a risk worth taking.
"I dunno, like, we were with Morgan and he was in seriously bad shape, probably concussed, and Renzo made a joke about killing him that kinda sounded like it might not be a joke and me and Andy were just kinda like, what the fuck. And Andy was like, real close to popping off, and that's when Emmett and Sapphire showed up, and ending up in a fight seemed like a real bad idea so we dipped. Oh, uh, he has like, an axe? By the way. Dunno if he's scoped anything else out by now."
He remembered Sapphire, and the spear thing she had. And also that Lorenzo probably killed her with that axe, and also thinking about what that axe could do to a body was not doing great things to his stomach which was unfortunate since he really needed to start shoving food into it. He unwrapped the energy bar with some difficulty because his hands still weren't listening that closely to his brain but the trembling was lessening, little by little. He took a bite. It tasted like sawdust held together with cardboard but legally it was food.
"Sapphire... yeah. I assume." He shrugged because...he had no idea why he shrugged, really. Apparently it was just his body's natural response to things that were fucking terrible. "Like, we met them on day one and we didn't hear her name until this morning but like, they said something about it being during the announcement, right? So like, I dunno, maybe they got away for a while and he went after them, or maybe she just got hurt and didn't die for a while."
That axe was really fucked up and Lorenzo was probably strong enough to bury it in someone's skull and that was also really fucked up? He had mental images to draw on and they were all from horror movies.
"And, uh, I know. Like, about Abe. He's the one who told me. Seemed, like, pretty insistent on making sure I knew the whole story." Not that it actually matters, since you killed another guy anyway, he didn't say because he super didn't feel like getting stabbed.
Maybe he was being unfair, like, if Nick was telling the truth about what happened it sounded like the thing with Jeremiah was basically in self-defense? He could be lying, but he also could have killed Axel by now, so his not being dead was a pretty strong point in Nick's favor. Considering he'd also basically saved his life by sacrificing his own supplies, maybe he could stand to give him the benefit of the doubt. Like, at least a little?
"I..."
He didn't know what to say, though. He couldn't stay long. Andy was probably a fucking wreck and he couldn't even assume they hadn't moved camp without him at this point but he had to find them. Leaving this cave would pretty much be saying goodbye to Nick forever, and that was fine, right? They'd never been super close. He'd spent half the time they'd known each other being super jealous over his boyfriend.
They were just close enough that the concept of never seeing him again pinged his brain in this specifically uncomfortable way, like an itch in a spot he couldn't reach.
He put the thought aside. He couldn't move. He wasn't leaving yet. No reason to get pre-upset.
"I'm, uh, glad I found you. Considering you're not murdering me. And all." Great wording there, very friendly.
"Like... I don't know. Mikki's dead. I'll never see her again. Renzo killed someone and I really doubt he's gonna be as chill about it as you are, I don't even wanna know what the fuck happened with Ty, Andy's probably a mess and I don't know where Hel is or if I'll ever see them alive again and it's just—
He stopped to breathe. He was rapidly running low on chill.
"It's fucked up. Everything's fucked up. I know you know that better than anyone but seriously, man, it's fucking hard to even—I can't wrap my head around it, still. That this is for real. I dunno if I'm gonna accept it until I'm dying."
He shrugged again because that counted as a coping mechanism now?
"So that's probably pretty soon, anyway."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."