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Gran Torino.
Oh, it was Bart.

Blair knew his face, but almost nothing about him aside from people saying nasty stuff about him or his hygiene. Poor guy looked scared stiff.

"Depends. Who are they? They got names?" Blair looked between the two intruders. It was uncomfortable to be in a corner like this, even if nothing had indicated there was any violent intent. To make things even worse, Blair was the best-armed person in the room, which theoretically gave her a position of power.

That was a mixed blessing. Blair was happy to be in control, sure, but so far that hadn't worked out for her. The most sensible thing to do was avoid any confrontation before it could go down. Violence was risky, reckless, and reprehensible.

Cautiously, Blair fumbled the safety of the gun while holding it at her hip, and hoisted her daypack onto her shoulder. She started towards the door, moving with some hesitance but trying to appear confident, her expression blank.

Gran Torino.
Blair waved a hand dismissively and stood upright again after a moment, clearing her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine." Scout's look of momentary concern surprised her, and was to an extent reassuring. If she was after Blair's blood, there was no way she'd have acted that way, right?

The loud footsteps from outside put Blair back on alert, though. She picked up the gun, did not remove the safety and definitely did not point it at anyone but the floor. Still, it was a show of force, if anything. Blair couldn't tell who was behind Scout, and couldn't make out what they'd said. Probably not about to murder either of them, but people had probably thought that about her.

Ugh. Okay, stick to the present.

"Who's your friend?" Blair tilted her head, but still couldn't quite tell who was standing there.

Tea Party with Death at Dawn
Okay, okay. Alice had to think. The whirlwind of frightful images and chaotic ideas was overwhelming her. She needed to take care of Bryony's wound as well as her own, though luckily Sandra seemed unharmed. This was really, really bad, though, and the tight grip of fear kept distracting her from her task.

Bryony's concern was enough to help her focus. "Yeah, it'll be okay." Of course, Alice had no way of knowing whether or not it'd be okay, in any sense. Realistically, even if it didn't become infected, the wound could prove a major hindrance, depending on much damage there was. And that assumed Bryony lived long enough to face adversity because of it.

"We'll get you patched up, and once we go home you'll be alright. Alright?" Alice smiled reassuringly and patted Bryony's unharmed hand with her own. It was a tall promise, to be sure. She couldn't really guarantee anything of the sort, but she wasn't going to give up hope yet.

She couldn't let Bree despair.

What Could Have Been
Hello friends, since we're past halfway, I thought we could bring this back.

Henry actually finds Jae: So Henry was originally going to have a touching final moment with Jae shortly before dying. It was going to be sad and cute and all sorts of fun things, but unfortunately circumstances meant there wasn't enough time before deadline to finish the scene. So Henry died alone and Jae found his body later. How tragic! (Also this is why Henry's death thread was named as it was)

Henry as a quirky protagonist: Henry was a little messy during his experience in the midgame. My initial plan was for him to find a group to stick to and be the moral support/heart. I was thinking that he'd sort of play on Maria Graham, where he's very silly and out-of-touch, but with a more serious center, which was referenced in his opening denial of the situation. I wasn't sure who I was keeping around at the time, so I thought Henry might make it far this way. Didn't work out because I didn't keep Henry around long enough and was too flighty with him to stick to a group. Ideally, this plan would have led into...

Henry is literally/metaphorically backstabbed: Exactly how it sounds. My hope was that Henry and his last companion would be together, and the friend would kill Henry, leaving him in despair as he is betrayed. Didn't happen because none of his friends ended up in a position to do so.

Alice actually does what her first oneshot said she'd do: So remember how Alice had the first post in the chapel? How she declared she wanted to avoid human contact for as long as possible? That was a fun idea, but for a couple reasons it never worked out and she ended up buddying. I like her current iteration, but I think someday I'd like to do something like that. Maybe.

That's what I've got for now, may update it later on.

Tea Party with Death at Dawn
Panting, Alice sat up with a grimace and looked at Bryony. As she felt at the wound, she felt more reassured. The bullet had grazed her calf and despite the relatively deep wound wasn't embedded in her leg, and though it was bleeding a fair bit, she was pretty sure it hadn't hit something too vital. It hurt like hell, but she'd probably live.

"I'm okay, it's not so bad." Alice forced a smile. That smile quickly diminished when she looked at Bryony though, and realized that there was blood on her that wasn't Alice's.

"Oh my god, Bryony!" Alice moved instinctively, and needed to stop herself from leaping onto Bryony protectively. It wouldn't help, the shooter having already left, and right now she needed bandages. Sandra had her bag open and was holding first-aid supplies, but looked unsure.

"Sandra, grab disinfectant and put it on, then use that gauze. Bring the whole thing, please." She looked at Bryony. She was bleeding from her left hand. Alice suddenly couldn't remember if Bryony was right-handed or not, and because of the blood she couldn't tell how bad the wound was.

"Bree, stay calm, don't freak out. Uhm, hold your hand in the air, like, above your hair, and then we'll get a closer look after we clean it."

It struck Alice how ironic it was that her little wallflower self was taking charge here. Who knew crisis could be good for your self-confidence?

Gran Torino.
((Blair Moore continued from The Plastic Ratio))

The vehicle depot had cars in it. An ingenious concept, to be sure, but they weren't paying Blair to provide insightful commentary. That was just a hobby.

Snark helped her feel better, distracted from the miserable situation she was in. Dead people, murderers, terrorists, the only thing that could make it worse would be like, zombies or vengeful ghosts or some spooky shit. At least that was unlikely.

Entering the office of the depot seemed reasonable. Nobody would look in there, or at least, if they did she'd see them coming from the window. So she'd found herself seated at the chair in the office, gun on the table, staring out that window.

She saw Scout Pfeiffer arrive, and it took a second to analyze the girl to realize a couple things. One, she'd killed Alvaro Vacanti, who himself had killed four people or something. Two, she'd also been involved in killing Isabel Ramirez, who had murdered herself to the highest killcount. Isabel had also killed Noah, so that earned Scout some respect.

However, four was that Scout was probably going after killers. She stood up and picked up the gun, considering aiming it through the window. No, that was reckless. Also stupid and did she mention psychotically murderous? Wait...

Scout had put it away, but she was definitely carrying Noah's sawblade contraption. Blair stood, trying to process the situation. Had Scout been with Noah before he died? It seemed likely. Then again, maybe she just looted his body, in which case Blair would probably want to kick her ass.

Still, Blair had spent all of yesterday shooting things. Maybe talking first might help. Blair stood still and watched as Scout opened the door. Suddenly, a familiar tightness in her chest.

"Sup." Was all she could muster before doubling over coughing.

The Plastic Ratio
((Blair Moore continued from Cast in the Name of God))

She'd fled the building, considered rushing to the other side of it and down the slope only to be deterred by beeping. It'd startled her, and she'd rushed off in a different direction. Towards the bridge.

Coincidences were starting to get on Blair's nerves. This was where she'd first found herself. Where Jennifer Su had fallen. Blair had been absolutely mortified about it at the time, but with all this other stuff happening, she'd forgotten about it.

Now she'd lost both her friends, and she'd shot someone by accident. She had no idea what would become of Georgia Lee, hadn't seen the severity of the wound. Hopefully she'd survive.

But to what end? A crippling injury would still get her killed, just more slowly. A death sentence by proxy. Blair felt sick to her stomach.

She'd found herself inside one of the cars on the bridge, eating crackers with trembling hands. God, she was so messed up. She'd been trigger-happy since leaving the garden, so of course it'd ended badly for her. She'd shot a girl, for Christ's sake! She could justify Rene, given that she'd been asked to kill her, but this? No excuse. Fuck, she was an idiot.

Blair's original strategy was to fight to live. She was no quitter, never had been, but this whole proactivity thing was a problem. She looked like a psycho, basically. She couldn't help but wonder what Caedyn was thinking of her. Probably something mocking. God, and she was right, too.

The dry crackers irritated her throat, and she started coughing lightly, which turned into heavy, spastic hacking as her lungs seized. A pleasant reminder of how screwed she already was. She had been lucky that she hadn't gotten horribly sick this whole time. She'd be long dead if she caught pneumonia.

Gulping water, Blair curled up on the back seat. It was getting late, so moving any further was risky. She'd sleep here, and think about what to do in the morning.

---

Opening the door to the car (luckily it was unlocked) Blair slid herself onto the ground, bag in hand, gun reloaded.

Georgia Lee had died. It was her fault, of course; Blair should've known that a gunshot wound to the leg could kill you from blood loss. Another stupid mistake, but she couldn't afford to mope any longer. She'd known Georgia Lee could've died, she just hadn't thought it'd happen slowly. Maybe staying behind and providing care would've saved her, but there'd been other people present. If they hadn't helped, what difference did Blair running off make?

Caedyn had shot Jeremy Frasier. In a twisted way, it made Blair feel a little better. Caedyn was definitely being her usual selfish self and killing on purpose. Blair still had the moral high ground, probably.

Going back to the asylum seemed pointless. What to do next...Blair dug out her map and examined it. She didn't want to go to the housing block. That would attract people, and Blair was sick of people. The vehicle depot? If there was one working car, maybe she'd find another. That'd be nice.

She packed up her stuff, and set off. Maybe she could avoid trouble for a little while. Hah.

((Blair Moore continued in Gran Torino))