"I love you too," Ivy whispered back to the only person in the world to whom she didn't have to question if she meant it.
She wanted to stay here a little longer. Here in Myles's arms, here resting under this tree, here in a moment where she didn't have to think about what came next. Back into denial. Wine and dancing and laughing and plane tickets to Tokyo and the map of directions from Durham to Savannah already saved on her phone. It wasn't really denial if she knew what it was, was it? It was just dreaming. It was just acknowledging how much better they both deserved.
Ivy could imagine some kind of future without Wyatt. Without Tristan, without Beryl, without Bret. She couldn't imagine a future without Myles, and she knew she would, eventually, if she wanted so badly to stop hiding in possibilities that would never come true. But she didn't have to right now. She refused. Her friends were dead and dying but she took Myles's hand and she was—
"Okay."
She squeezed.
"We should move. I can walk further if Garren carries my stuff, I think."
She'd give Myles her essentials, the water, the food. Perhaps part of accepting her situation was in abandoning her pointless nods toward civility, her attempts to brush her hair, brushing her teeth with Ace's pilfered toothpaste and her finger in the mornings, her changes of clothes, most of which had been worn at least once by now and were damp with humidity and sweat. Conveniently she now had a pack mule to bear those burdens. She'd paid the price until now for some semblance of normalcy; she certainly didn't want to give it up now that someone else was carrying the weight.
"Any ideas?"
Crime and Punishment
Tsumi to Batsu (Day 6, Post-Announcement)
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Myles breathed out what was more or less a sigh of relief and turned his hand in Ivy's so that he could lace his fingers through hers and squeeze back.
"Not really," he answered, slipping back into normal conversation and planning like that little near-meltdown hadn't even happened, even though Ivy's eyes were still red and wet. "But I'm sick of these woods. Let's go somewhere else." He hadn't actually seen all that much of the island up close, when he thought about it. He'd gotten a short look out over it, but that was days ago, and it had been raining, and Tristan had been there so it wasn't like the view was Myles's main concern.
Tristan would probably still be there, if they found their way to the lookout platform.
He wasn't going to think about that.
"I haven't been to the lake or the waterfall or anything yet- or the beach, actually. We never made it there." We being Myles and Adonis. Who knew where Adonis had gotten off to. If they happened to run into each other again, Myles wasn't about to give him a third chance. "If the water isn't all gross, we might be able to wash some stuff."
They'd have to send Garren off on some kind of errand again if Ivy decided she wanted to wash herself up, but that was fine. It was fun in a way, seeing what they could come up with and how willingly he'd go along with it even if it was clear that he knew they were full of it. Myles didn't like Garren, but he was starting to see the positives. This was the kind of help he'd been looking for all along.
"How's that sound? Good enough to get out of bed for?"
"Not really," he answered, slipping back into normal conversation and planning like that little near-meltdown hadn't even happened, even though Ivy's eyes were still red and wet. "But I'm sick of these woods. Let's go somewhere else." He hadn't actually seen all that much of the island up close, when he thought about it. He'd gotten a short look out over it, but that was days ago, and it had been raining, and Tristan had been there so it wasn't like the view was Myles's main concern.
Tristan would probably still be there, if they found their way to the lookout platform.
He wasn't going to think about that.
"I haven't been to the lake or the waterfall or anything yet- or the beach, actually. We never made it there." We being Myles and Adonis. Who knew where Adonis had gotten off to. If they happened to run into each other again, Myles wasn't about to give him a third chance. "If the water isn't all gross, we might be able to wash some stuff."
They'd have to send Garren off on some kind of errand again if Ivy decided she wanted to wash herself up, but that was fine. It was fun in a way, seeing what they could come up with and how willingly he'd go along with it even if it was clear that he knew they were full of it. Myles didn't like Garren, but he was starting to see the positives. This was the kind of help he'd been looking for all along.
"How's that sound? Good enough to get out of bed for?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
She smiled. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"Good enough, yes. Lord knows I could use a bath."
Ivy only sort of noticed how gross she must be at this point, after four days without anything resembling a shower and over a week without a proper one involving soap and such. It mostly only hit her when she was trying to sleep, when she'd suddenly notice just how sticky her skin was, or catch a whiff of body odor that might or might not belong to her; it didn't matter, objectively, she knew that, she could hardly imagine anyone else was in better shape anyway. But her vanity caught up to her in some moments, contemplating the knots she'd never be able to brush out of her hair. The opportunity to rinse the surface sweat off, at least, was certainly tempting.
It was also a terrible idea, if she wanted to look at it logically, but she didn't. She didn't want to look at anything logically at this particular moment. She was awake. She understood. She needed things to live for. This one was a bit shallow, yes, but it was also what Myles wanted, so how could she possibly complain?
Still holding Myles's hand, she used both him and the tree they'd slept beneath to drag them both to their feet. She felt dizzy, some combination of hunger and crying, probably. She should probably eat something, it had been at least a day, but her stomach shuddered at the concept.
"The beach is closer, I think, but if we follow the path that'll take us to the lake eventually. Harder to get lost that way." She frowned. "Also, like, not that my hair isn't already a disaster, but saltwater would ruin it."
Jokes, distractions on distractions, she buried her heart for now and hoped it would stick. It hurt, physically, a dull throbbing in her chest, she wanted her legs to collapse back under her, she wanted to let the tears flow, she wanted to stay, she wanted to give up, she didn't. She was better than that. She was supposed to be better than that, anyway, and perception made reality.
She took a deep breath.
"Let's get the errand boy, yes?"
This is as presentable as I'm going to get went unsaid. He'd understand. Her eyes still stung.
"Good enough, yes. Lord knows I could use a bath."
Ivy only sort of noticed how gross she must be at this point, after four days without anything resembling a shower and over a week without a proper one involving soap and such. It mostly only hit her when she was trying to sleep, when she'd suddenly notice just how sticky her skin was, or catch a whiff of body odor that might or might not belong to her; it didn't matter, objectively, she knew that, she could hardly imagine anyone else was in better shape anyway. But her vanity caught up to her in some moments, contemplating the knots she'd never be able to brush out of her hair. The opportunity to rinse the surface sweat off, at least, was certainly tempting.
It was also a terrible idea, if she wanted to look at it logically, but she didn't. She didn't want to look at anything logically at this particular moment. She was awake. She understood. She needed things to live for. This one was a bit shallow, yes, but it was also what Myles wanted, so how could she possibly complain?
Still holding Myles's hand, she used both him and the tree they'd slept beneath to drag them both to their feet. She felt dizzy, some combination of hunger and crying, probably. She should probably eat something, it had been at least a day, but her stomach shuddered at the concept.
"The beach is closer, I think, but if we follow the path that'll take us to the lake eventually. Harder to get lost that way." She frowned. "Also, like, not that my hair isn't already a disaster, but saltwater would ruin it."
Jokes, distractions on distractions, she buried her heart for now and hoped it would stick. It hurt, physically, a dull throbbing in her chest, she wanted her legs to collapse back under her, she wanted to let the tears flow, she wanted to stay, she wanted to give up, she didn't. She was better than that. She was supposed to be better than that, anyway, and perception made reality.
She took a deep breath.
"Let's get the errand boy, yes?"
This is as presentable as I'm going to get went unsaid. He'd understand. Her eyes still stung.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
"I guess we're keeping him," Myles agreed. Garren hadn't tried to kill them or let them get killed during the night, which was his main function. Plus, making him carry Ivy's bags so that she wouldn't strain herself more was a good idea. This setup was looking better and better honestly, and you know things had to be dire for Garren to be such a godsend.
Myles put a smile on his face anyway and kept his hand in Ivy's. There were other important things that the announcement had brought up. They had made it over halfway. Killers were dying off. The ones that had made themselves big threats early on were burning out as their actions caught up with them, just like Myles had known they would. It was kind of a disappointment that Julien's name hadn't been called out too, but maybe luck would be on their side and he'd still be laying in the woods bleeding out somewhere while they left that all behind them.
"Hey Garren, wake up," Myles called. Garren was awake, obviously but he was just sitting there and staring off into space, so it was still a fair thing to say. "We're leaving. Help us sort the bags out."
Things had been, objectively speaking, hot garbage. Still, while he was trying to manage his expectations, he couldn't help but feel that they might finally be getting on track. Fingers crossed, and all that.
He squeezed Ivy's fingers in his, and then they got to work. Or got to putting Garren to work, whatever. The important thing was, it put Myles in something close to a good mood for the first time in a while.
((Myles Roux continued in Énouement))
Myles put a smile on his face anyway and kept his hand in Ivy's. There were other important things that the announcement had brought up. They had made it over halfway. Killers were dying off. The ones that had made themselves big threats early on were burning out as their actions caught up with them, just like Myles had known they would. It was kind of a disappointment that Julien's name hadn't been called out too, but maybe luck would be on their side and he'd still be laying in the woods bleeding out somewhere while they left that all behind them.
"Hey Garren, wake up," Myles called. Garren was awake, obviously but he was just sitting there and staring off into space, so it was still a fair thing to say. "We're leaving. Help us sort the bags out."
Things had been, objectively speaking, hot garbage. Still, while he was trying to manage his expectations, he couldn't help but feel that they might finally be getting on track. Fingers crossed, and all that.
He squeezed Ivy's fingers in his, and then they got to work. Or got to putting Garren to work, whatever. The important thing was, it put Myles in something close to a good mood for the first time in a while.
((Myles Roux continued in Énouement))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
"Truly the end times, aren't they," Ivy said with a smile and a shrug, because they were, just not in a way that was generally all that funny. The Garren thing was still pretty funny, though. The names on her ever-shrinking list of "people I'd like to find" would not be nearly so easily manipulated; she still wanted to see them, of course, but she wouldn't get anywhere asking them to keep her and Myles safe with limited upside on their part. Plenty of people would be desperate, yes, but this desperate? As odd as it still felt to think, Garren was a lucky find. He would have tried to kill them in the night if he had planned on it, she imagined. No particular reason to distrust him going forward.
It was a long walk to the lake, especially if they followed the path, which twisted and turned more than she would like. But she did feel better, standing, even as that motion strained her ribs; Ace had carried the heaviest of her belongings until she left him, but the last few days had had her carrying more weight than anyone would ever advise with her injury. Myles could help a little, occasionally, but discounting her injuries he wasn't any stronger than her. He was having a difficult enough time dealing with his own things. But now? Walking with nothing straining her shoulders felt great. A relative kind of great, but that was the kind she was allowed to have.
She motioned vaguely at Garren and back at her bags, and that felt pretty great, too.
She was still Ivy Langley. Some part of her had been drowning in sentimentality for days, how desperately she had wanted to stay by Ace's side, how desperately she had wanted to find Myles, her tears over Beryl, over Tristan, over Wyatt, fuck, she had felt genuinely sorry for Garren for more than a passing moment. She couldn't have it. She didn't need it. She had Myles, and the rest of the world was still hers.
She squeezed Myles's hand back and, in a moment of good cheer, kissed him on the cheek.
The future waited for her to mourn.
>> Ivy Langley continued in Énouement
It was a long walk to the lake, especially if they followed the path, which twisted and turned more than she would like. But she did feel better, standing, even as that motion strained her ribs; Ace had carried the heaviest of her belongings until she left him, but the last few days had had her carrying more weight than anyone would ever advise with her injury. Myles could help a little, occasionally, but discounting her injuries he wasn't any stronger than her. He was having a difficult enough time dealing with his own things. But now? Walking with nothing straining her shoulders felt great. A relative kind of great, but that was the kind she was allowed to have.
She motioned vaguely at Garren and back at her bags, and that felt pretty great, too.
She was still Ivy Langley. Some part of her had been drowning in sentimentality for days, how desperately she had wanted to stay by Ace's side, how desperately she had wanted to find Myles, her tears over Beryl, over Tristan, over Wyatt, fuck, she had felt genuinely sorry for Garren for more than a passing moment. She couldn't have it. She didn't need it. She had Myles, and the rest of the world was still hers.
She squeezed Myles's hand back and, in a moment of good cheer, kissed him on the cheek.
The future waited for her to mourn.
>> Ivy Langley continued in Énouement
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
The forest, it turned out, was surprisingly quiet.
He’d thought as much when he’d first been wandering it alone, back on day one, after leaving Brady and Catherine and… fuck, Cheridene, that was her name. There was some rustling of leaves, the gentle rush of the breeze in his hair, birds chirping off in a distant branch. But that aside, the air was still. It was… it was nice, honestly. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was peaceful.
It was also nigh-impossible for him to avoid hearing snippets of conversation, no matter how quiet.
He didn’t wanna, obviously. It wasn’t his place to pry, and he wasn’t the sort of person Ivy needed around her in her most vulnerable moments. No matter his thoughts on the two, the only person she needed right now was her best friend, and he wasn’t gonna step in between them just because they were both lavender coated nightmares.
And he didn’t hear the most hushed utterances, the whispers to one another, the words spoken meant for one soul and one soul alone. But words caught on the breeze and drifted over to him, tones of panic and of reassurance, and stuff that he really didn’t wanna be listening to. He tried to distract himself from it all, focusing on a really fascinating tree stump a few metres off, scratching at all the itches dotting his body, picking out a single, melancholy birdsong and following it along.
He almost started to hum in tune with it, but he was pretty sure that Myvy wouldn’t appreciate being serenaded with fucking elevator music.
Finally, after a torturous eternity, he heard footsteps crunching on dead leaves and twigs, coming closer towards him. He stayed facing away from them until Myles directly mentioned his name, at which point he hopped off the log and turned to look at them, hands in his pockets. All the better to appear totally clueless. Not that these two really needed any more encouragement to think of him like that, but, whatever.
He’d hoped that Ivy might have gained a tiny bit of begrudging respect in the past five minutes, but he guessed he hadn’t quite made that step up yet. He’d kinda learned by now that the world didn’t really give out freebies, unless your parents were rich and white.
Eh. Whatever. Give it time, as he’d said before. The other two hadn’t just up and abandoned him, sitting on a log like a fucking dipshit. That was more than Parker had done. He was still making inroads. He was still making progress.
The sky was the fucking limit.
((Garren Mortimer continued in Énouement))
He’d thought as much when he’d first been wandering it alone, back on day one, after leaving Brady and Catherine and… fuck, Cheridene, that was her name. There was some rustling of leaves, the gentle rush of the breeze in his hair, birds chirping off in a distant branch. But that aside, the air was still. It was… it was nice, honestly. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was peaceful.
It was also nigh-impossible for him to avoid hearing snippets of conversation, no matter how quiet.
He didn’t wanna, obviously. It wasn’t his place to pry, and he wasn’t the sort of person Ivy needed around her in her most vulnerable moments. No matter his thoughts on the two, the only person she needed right now was her best friend, and he wasn’t gonna step in between them just because they were both lavender coated nightmares.
And he didn’t hear the most hushed utterances, the whispers to one another, the words spoken meant for one soul and one soul alone. But words caught on the breeze and drifted over to him, tones of panic and of reassurance, and stuff that he really didn’t wanna be listening to. He tried to distract himself from it all, focusing on a really fascinating tree stump a few metres off, scratching at all the itches dotting his body, picking out a single, melancholy birdsong and following it along.
He almost started to hum in tune with it, but he was pretty sure that Myvy wouldn’t appreciate being serenaded with fucking elevator music.
Finally, after a torturous eternity, he heard footsteps crunching on dead leaves and twigs, coming closer towards him. He stayed facing away from them until Myles directly mentioned his name, at which point he hopped off the log and turned to look at them, hands in his pockets. All the better to appear totally clueless. Not that these two really needed any more encouragement to think of him like that, but, whatever.
He’d hoped that Ivy might have gained a tiny bit of begrudging respect in the past five minutes, but he guessed he hadn’t quite made that step up yet. He’d kinda learned by now that the world didn’t really give out freebies, unless your parents were rich and white.
Eh. Whatever. Give it time, as he’d said before. The other two hadn’t just up and abandoned him, sitting on a log like a fucking dipshit. That was more than Parker had done. He was still making inroads. He was still making progress.
The sky was the fucking limit.
((Garren Mortimer continued in Énouement))
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017