The Most Important Thing in the World
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The Most Important Thing in the World
((Clara Micallef continued from Follow the Colours))
The sun dipped low in the sky as Clara and Lex continued along the edge of what was perhaps the most pathetic excuse for a river she had ever seen. Really, it was more of a ditch with water inside of it than anything else. It was a good things rivers didn't have feelings, because this one would probably be feeling pretty ashamed of itself right now - or at least it should if it had any self-respect. Maybe that was a little harsh to say, but after spending almost a whole day chasing after her ballcap-wearing arch-nemesis with no success at all, her instinct for charity was basically non-existent. Every hour of searching brought nothing but more frustration, their progress no farther along than it was yesterday at the village. Not even the announcements were any help, given that she didn't know anyone's name besides Lex's. For all she knew, that girl had killed half the island by now, which if nothing else would probably explain why they had gone so long without seeing another goddamn person during their countless hours of walking.
Those hours themselves would have at least been halfway tolerable if she had someone to share her frustrations with, but trying to talk with her travelling companion was like talking to a brick wall. By this point it was obvious that he didn't have much interest in making conversation, and Clara had long given up on trying, leaving the two of them to silently continue their search with nothing else to do but stew in their own thoughts. There was no way to sugarcoat it - every angle of this situation sucked. She took a quick glance behind her to make sure the guy was still following before continuing along the bank, using a hand to keep the what remained of the day's sunlight out of her eyes as she scanned the horizon.
Still, even if she were to quit this search and decide to let those two assholes just get away with stealing her stuff (not to mention what other dastardly deeds they had planned), what else would she do? She wasn't the type to go hole up and hide somewhere, waiting to get rescued, and hell if she was going to sink to that bitch's level and start going around robbing and killing people like some sort of common criminal. Unlike that river, she had some self-respect, and as long as she was still breathing there was no way she'd let herself get beaten like this.
A few steps later had a flash of excitement interrupt her ruminations, as her eyes happened to spot a silhouette off in the distance, the identity of the figure still concealed by the long shadows of the sunset. She gestured to Lex, pointing the shape out to him in an attempt to make sure she wasn't just seeing things before quickening up her pace, gingerly patting the gun tucked into her waistband as she approached. It was only one person, not two, but one was better than zero.
The sun dipped low in the sky as Clara and Lex continued along the edge of what was perhaps the most pathetic excuse for a river she had ever seen. Really, it was more of a ditch with water inside of it than anything else. It was a good things rivers didn't have feelings, because this one would probably be feeling pretty ashamed of itself right now - or at least it should if it had any self-respect. Maybe that was a little harsh to say, but after spending almost a whole day chasing after her ballcap-wearing arch-nemesis with no success at all, her instinct for charity was basically non-existent. Every hour of searching brought nothing but more frustration, their progress no farther along than it was yesterday at the village. Not even the announcements were any help, given that she didn't know anyone's name besides Lex's. For all she knew, that girl had killed half the island by now, which if nothing else would probably explain why they had gone so long without seeing another goddamn person during their countless hours of walking.
Those hours themselves would have at least been halfway tolerable if she had someone to share her frustrations with, but trying to talk with her travelling companion was like talking to a brick wall. By this point it was obvious that he didn't have much interest in making conversation, and Clara had long given up on trying, leaving the two of them to silently continue their search with nothing else to do but stew in their own thoughts. There was no way to sugarcoat it - every angle of this situation sucked. She took a quick glance behind her to make sure the guy was still following before continuing along the bank, using a hand to keep the what remained of the day's sunlight out of her eyes as she scanned the horizon.
Still, even if she were to quit this search and decide to let those two assholes just get away with stealing her stuff (not to mention what other dastardly deeds they had planned), what else would she do? She wasn't the type to go hole up and hide somewhere, waiting to get rescued, and hell if she was going to sink to that bitch's level and start going around robbing and killing people like some sort of common criminal. Unlike that river, she had some self-respect, and as long as she was still breathing there was no way she'd let herself get beaten like this.
A few steps later had a flash of excitement interrupt her ruminations, as her eyes happened to spot a silhouette off in the distance, the identity of the figure still concealed by the long shadows of the sunset. She gestured to Lex, pointing the shape out to him in an attempt to make sure she wasn't just seeing things before quickening up her pace, gingerly patting the gun tucked into her waistband as she approached. It was only one person, not two, but one was better than zero.
- Dogs231
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- Location: The Pear Wiggler
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(He came from Follow the Colours)
He followed a few paces behind the girl and stared into the water of the river, stained orange by the reflection of the setting sun, which flowed quickly and tumbled against the bank. He looked behind him at a partially broken log bridge. He still couldn't put a name to the face he'd seen there.
His shoulders were heavy with the weight of death, and his dry, reddened eyes itched with tiredness. He rubbed fruitlessly at them with the middle joint of his pointer finger, then sighed. His feet hurt from continued usage, a result of his poor physique. He didn't mind that.
His partner gestured to him, indicating a dark shape on the horizon, the hazy anatomy of a human being. He nodded his head at her, then turned back to the target. He gripped the tent stake harder in his hand. His fingers tightened around the metal, and the nails nug into his palm.
He followed behind her as she quickened her pace, a match of her speed, and his feet sunk slightly into the damp soil as they moved forward.
He followed a few paces behind the girl and stared into the water of the river, stained orange by the reflection of the setting sun, which flowed quickly and tumbled against the bank. He looked behind him at a partially broken log bridge. He still couldn't put a name to the face he'd seen there.
His shoulders were heavy with the weight of death, and his dry, reddened eyes itched with tiredness. He rubbed fruitlessly at them with the middle joint of his pointer finger, then sighed. His feet hurt from continued usage, a result of his poor physique. He didn't mind that.
His partner gestured to him, indicating a dark shape on the horizon, the hazy anatomy of a human being. He nodded his head at her, then turned back to the target. He gripped the tent stake harder in his hand. His fingers tightened around the metal, and the nails nug into his palm.
He followed behind her as she quickened her pace, a match of her speed, and his feet sunk slightly into the damp soil as they moved forward.
Maybe half an hour after leaving that beach, Caleb realized that he’d forgotten the girl’s bag.
Eventually, he learned her name had been Tarren.
It was a name he’d never spoken out loud, but it still felt strange in his mouth. While it was her real name, it wasn’t what he’d known her as. He hadn’t even known her at all, really. So why would he call her that? This didn't really matter, but of everything that was happening, it was the easiest thing to occupy his mind with.
He didn’t feel great about killing the girl. While he didn't miss the her, he did miss having someone to watch his back. He couldn't help but feel exposed now, especially in the open plain. Caleb's head hung low as he trudged along the dried-up riverbed. He hadn’t stopped moving since he’d killed the girl, and was hoping to find somewhere to hunker down for the night. First, though, he had to get out of the open.
Eventually, he learned her name had been Tarren.
It was a name he’d never spoken out loud, but it still felt strange in his mouth. While it was her real name, it wasn’t what he’d known her as. He hadn’t even known her at all, really. So why would he call her that? This didn't really matter, but of everything that was happening, it was the easiest thing to occupy his mind with.
He didn’t feel great about killing the girl. While he didn't miss the her, he did miss having someone to watch his back. He couldn't help but feel exposed now, especially in the open plain. Caleb's head hung low as he trudged along the dried-up riverbed. He hadn’t stopped moving since he’d killed the girl, and was hoping to find somewhere to hunker down for the night. First, though, he had to get out of the open.
Step by step, the lone figure up ahead began to slowly come into focus. Black hair, red jumper, small frame... Clara's pulse began to quicken as the glimmer of recognition forced its way into her mind. Maybe her persistence had paid off, or maybe this was just a lucky coincidence - it didn't matter at this point. She had found him.
She pulled the gun out as she slowly crept forward, her knuckles whitening as her trip tightened onto its grip. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. Well, not exactly - the girl with the ballcap was the big prize - but this was pretty damn close. After all, this was the guy who had tricked her into stepping into their trap in the first place. Wasn't that how it worked in the movies, anyway? First the second-in-command, then the boss.
Speaking of movies, it'd probably be pretty fitting if she dropped in on him with a cool line or something. What to say though... that was the question...
Ah, we meet again. - Nah, too pretentious.
...
Well, look who it is... - Kind of lame, to be honest.
...
It's the end of the line for you, pal. - What was she, some kind of mafia goon? No way.
...
Unfortunately for her, while her mind had been working on putting together the script for their encounter, her legs had carried her nearly all the way to her target, his bowed head just out of reach. Any closer and he'd definitely hear her coming, ruining any element of surprise they could have had. Put on the spot, Clara ended up just saying the first thing to come to mind.
"So, uh... where's your friend?"
She pulled the gun out as she slowly crept forward, her knuckles whitening as her trip tightened onto its grip. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. Well, not exactly - the girl with the ballcap was the big prize - but this was pretty damn close. After all, this was the guy who had tricked her into stepping into their trap in the first place. Wasn't that how it worked in the movies, anyway? First the second-in-command, then the boss.
Speaking of movies, it'd probably be pretty fitting if she dropped in on him with a cool line or something. What to say though... that was the question...
Ah, we meet again. - Nah, too pretentious.
...
Well, look who it is... - Kind of lame, to be honest.
...
It's the end of the line for you, pal. - What was she, some kind of mafia goon? No way.
...
Unfortunately for her, while her mind had been working on putting together the script for their encounter, her legs had carried her nearly all the way to her target, his bowed head just out of reach. Any closer and he'd definitely hear her coming, ruining any element of surprise they could have had. Put on the spot, Clara ended up just saying the first thing to come to mind.
"So, uh... where's your friend?"
- Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
He took one step forward, then the next, the wet ground splashing against his shoes as he and his companion closed the distance between themselves and the figure. As they drew nearer, his pace slowed to a stooped skulk in time with the girl's decrease in speed. His heartbeat quickened with every imprint his foot left on the moisture-laden dirt.
He stopped as the two of them arrived on the scene, and he stared at the glint of the pistol's slide for a moment as it contrasted with the black polymer of the frame. He looked at the girl and mumbled a recollection under his breath, just out of hearing.
"He's the one."
He let his arm fall to his side, the tent stake pointing at the ground as he regained his breath. He raised his head towards the boy and spoke, curt and cold.
"Let's have a chat."
He stopped as the two of them arrived on the scene, and he stared at the glint of the pistol's slide for a moment as it contrasted with the black polymer of the frame. He looked at the girl and mumbled a recollection under his breath, just out of hearing.
"He's the one."
He let his arm fall to his side, the tent stake pointing at the ground as he regained his breath. He raised his head towards the boy and spoke, curt and cold.
"Let's have a chat."
Caleb spun around so fast he almost fell over. He instinctively raised his arm at the voice, but in the split second he recognized the girl, he also realized that the gun was still tucked into his waistband. He was frozen for a moment, eyes shifting from the girl from before to her companion. Eventually, his hand fell to his side.
The girl had asked him a question, and Caleb only half-processed what she'd said before blurting out, "She's, uh, not my friend." He coughed. "And she's...gone."
One arm went up to scratch his chin. The other went behind his back.
The girl had asked him a question, and Caleb only half-processed what she'd said before blurting out, "She's, uh, not my friend." He coughed. "And she's...gone."
One arm went up to scratch his chin. The other went behind his back.
Clara felt her breath catch in her throat at the sudden movement happening in front of her. Her fingers fumbled a bit at her waistband before she managed to pull out the gun and point it straight towards the boy in front of her, disengaging the safety with a loud click.
"Alright, nice try, buddy. Keep your hands where I can see them."
The next few seconds ticked by silently as she stood there, her heart pounding as she stared down the barrel at him, the satisfaction of having caught up to her target now joined with an acute sense of anxiety as the reality of the situation began to set in. She swallowed, her mouth uncomfortably dry as she opened it to give her followup.
"Alright, friend, partner, whatever you want to call it - I don't really care. What do you mean, 'she's gone'?"
It was kind of a redundant question, but it'd be better to confirm this wasn't some sort of clever word games rather than just let her own assumptions cover the ground on their own.
"Alright, nice try, buddy. Keep your hands where I can see them."
The next few seconds ticked by silently as she stood there, her heart pounding as she stared down the barrel at him, the satisfaction of having caught up to her target now joined with an acute sense of anxiety as the reality of the situation began to set in. She swallowed, her mouth uncomfortably dry as she opened it to give her followup.
"Alright, friend, partner, whatever you want to call it - I don't really care. What do you mean, 'she's gone'?"
It was kind of a redundant question, but it'd be better to confirm this wasn't some sort of clever word games rather than just let her own assumptions cover the ground on their own.
- Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
His eyes focused on the other boy, and he picked apart the expressions on the boy's face as if trying to disassemble it. His eyes caught the boy's as they shifted towards him. He lowered his head and broke the contact, then stared at his feet.
He listened to the words of the boy and scratched nervously at the back of his neck.
He heard the words and knew what they meant, knew what the boy was saying, but discarded the thought as soon as he had it. He thought it couldn't be, shouldn't be, wanted it not to be the truth.
"Come on, swear down."
He didn't want to believe, but he did.
He listened to the words of the boy and scratched nervously at the back of his neck.
He heard the words and knew what they meant, knew what the boy was saying, but discarded the thought as soon as he had it. He thought it couldn't be, shouldn't be, wanted it not to be the truth.
"Come on, swear down."
He didn't want to believe, but he did.
“She’s…” Caleb trailed off, his breath caught in his throat. Why is it so hard to say? Did he even have to say it? He glanced between the girl and her companion. Surely they knew what he meant.
Seemed like they didn’t, though. The boy pressed him further.
“Y’know. Dead.”
Seemed like they didn’t, though. The boy pressed him further.
“Y’know. Dead.”
Clara blew a slow stream of air out of her mouth as she took in the news, feeling a muted sinking feeling in her chest. It wasn't that she felt bad for either of those two assholes- they definitely deserved whatever they had coming to them. It was just...
This really wasn't how she expected things to go. Like, at all.
This was supposed to be it, the big damn hero moment, the part you got in basically every action movie where the main character stood off against the bad guy in some sort of epic showdown that five years from now people will still be looking up clips of on youtube or whatever website people are using at that particular moment in time... You get the picture.
The point was, she was not supposed to show up only to be told that the big bad - she of the white ballcap, stealer of bags, queen of all around douchebaggery - was dead. There was still the sidekick to deal with, of course, but, still, wow, what an anticlimax.
Maybe this wouldn't have come as such a shock if she had knew what names to look for on the announcements, but it wasn't like people here were very keen on introducing themselves. What kind of operation were these kidnappers running, anyway? Why even bother giving names on the announcement when most of the kids here wouldn't recognize any but their own?
Whatever. She'd have time to stew about this later, but for now there were much more pressing concerns - like what do about the little thief that she was currently holding at gunpoint. Though she probably could have thought of an infinite number of questions to follow up with if she really wanted to, the fact that the guy was only carrying one bag carried one particularly important question to the forefront.
"I see. Where's my stuff then? I assume that the bag's not currently being carried around by some sort of zombie pack mule, so what did the two of you do with it?"
This really wasn't how she expected things to go. Like, at all.
This was supposed to be it, the big damn hero moment, the part you got in basically every action movie where the main character stood off against the bad guy in some sort of epic showdown that five years from now people will still be looking up clips of on youtube or whatever website people are using at that particular moment in time... You get the picture.
The point was, she was not supposed to show up only to be told that the big bad - she of the white ballcap, stealer of bags, queen of all around douchebaggery - was dead. There was still the sidekick to deal with, of course, but, still, wow, what an anticlimax.
Maybe this wouldn't have come as such a shock if she had knew what names to look for on the announcements, but it wasn't like people here were very keen on introducing themselves. What kind of operation were these kidnappers running, anyway? Why even bother giving names on the announcement when most of the kids here wouldn't recognize any but their own?
Whatever. She'd have time to stew about this later, but for now there were much more pressing concerns - like what do about the little thief that she was currently holding at gunpoint. Though she probably could have thought of an infinite number of questions to follow up with if she really wanted to, the fact that the guy was only carrying one bag carried one particularly important question to the forefront.
"I see. Where's my stuff then? I assume that the bag's not currently being carried around by some sort of zombie pack mule, so what did the two of you do with it?"
- Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
He hadn't known her name.
He stared at the other boy with glazed eyes.
He had spent the last moments of his life in a chase for a ghost.
He opened his mouth to speak.
"How long?"
He paused.
"And, uh, my gun. You've got it, yeah?"
He stared at the other boy with glazed eyes.
He had spent the last moments of his life in a chase for a ghost.
He opened his mouth to speak.
"How long?"
He paused.
"And, uh, my gun. You've got it, yeah?"
“Uh…”
What should he say? In the heat of the moment, you’d usually do whatever someone wants if they’re holding you at gunpoint. If Caleb told the truth, maybe she’d spare him.
But why would she? She has no reason to. He’d stolen from her, which is more than enough to get a bullet in his head in a place like this. No, if he told her, she’d shoot him dead without a second thought.
Then the boy asked about the gun—the one tucked into his waistband. His fingers brushed up against the handle as he froze up. He looked from the boy to the girl, and then to her gun.
He wasn’t sure if he was faster than her, but he could sure as hell try.
Caleb pulled the gun out of his waistband and whipped it around as fast as he could, aiming it at the girl before pulling
What should he say? In the heat of the moment, you’d usually do whatever someone wants if they’re holding you at gunpoint. If Caleb told the truth, maybe she’d spare him.
But why would she? She has no reason to. He’d stolen from her, which is more than enough to get a bullet in his head in a place like this. No, if he told her, she’d shoot him dead without a second thought.
Then the boy asked about the gun—the one tucked into his waistband. His fingers brushed up against the handle as he froze up. He looked from the boy to the girl, and then to her gun.
He wasn’t sure if he was faster than her, but he could sure as hell try.
Caleb pulled the gun out of his waistband and whipped it around as fast as he could, aiming it at the girl before pulling
The next few seconds were a blur as the boy responded to their questions with a sudden, unmistakable movement, causing a jolt of fear to rocket through Clara's body. Her response was automatic, years of practising to improve her reaction time all coming together to move her index finger just a few centimetres.
Her efforts were soon rewarded with an ear-splitting explosion, somehow infinitely louder than it had been the last time she had fired the weapon. It was all she could do to hold her arm steady, lest the handcannon currently held in a white-knuckled grip be propelled backwards directly into her face. Evidently, the fact that this was the second time she had used the weapon meant jack shit when it came to actually being prepared for the event.
It was due to all these distractions, in fact, that it took her a moment before she was able to gather her bearings and stare down the smoking metal barrel at the target in front of her, her eyes opening wide as the realization of what she had done came hit her like a football kicked into one's face, leaving her with little recourse but to release a deluge of muttered profanity.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
Her efforts were soon rewarded with an ear-splitting explosion, somehow infinitely louder than it had been the last time she had fired the weapon. It was all she could do to hold her arm steady, lest the handcannon currently held in a white-knuckled grip be propelled backwards directly into her face. Evidently, the fact that this was the second time she had used the weapon meant jack shit when it came to actually being prepared for the event.
It was due to all these distractions, in fact, that it took her a moment before she was able to gather her bearings and stare down the smoking metal barrel at the target in front of her, her eyes opening wide as the realization of what she had done came hit her like a football kicked into one's face, leaving her with little recourse but to release a deluge of muttered profanity.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
- Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
He could sense the tension in the air. For a moment, the atmosphere was quiet.
He saw a burst of motion, the raised arm of the boy, a shining barrel, and a flash of light. He heard an eruption of sound, followed by a ring in his ears.
His mind didn't register what had happened until it was already over.
He saw a burst of motion, the raised arm of the boy, a shining barrel, and a flash of light. He heard an eruption of sound, followed by a ring in his ears.
His mind didn't register what had happened until it was already over.
Caleb blinked, and suddenly he was looking up at the sky. His mouth was filled with the taste of iron as something wet and warm bubbled up from his throat, dribbling down his face. It took all of his strength to bring his hand to his chest, and it came back red.
He didn’t like to think about the afterlife all that much. He’d been raised to believe in a heaven and a hell, which he unceremoniously discarded when he’d left the faith. However, he didn’t like to think much about the void.
In the moment, now that it was happening, Caleb was scared of what he was headed for. A small, vestigial part of him feared waking up to fire.
Instead, though, he was feeling cold.
So, so cold.
O21: Caleb Policarpio - DECEASED
He didn’t like to think about the afterlife all that much. He’d been raised to believe in a heaven and a hell, which he unceremoniously discarded when he’d left the faith. However, he didn’t like to think much about the void.
In the moment, now that it was happening, Caleb was scared of what he was headed for. A small, vestigial part of him feared waking up to fire.
Instead, though, he was feeling cold.
So, so cold.
O21: Caleb Policarpio - DECEASED