"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Viewing Single Post From: By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you
Violent-Medic
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“Oh, sweet. You found Ty? Bernie wasn’t with him by any chance, was she?” Although even as she said it, she realised that Harold would have mentioned her if she had been. She supposed not everyone was lucky enough to wake up not far from their boyfriend. “But yeah, that’s pretty great. We’re the only wrestlers on the trip, aren’t we? I’d say ‘too bad Rod wasn’t on the trip’ but given… what that means… y’know?”

There was a tiny glimmer of doubt in Clarice’s mind. She liked Ty a lot, he was one of her best friends and they were co-captains of the wrestling team. But there had been a time when Ty hadn’t been so friendly. When he’d been a bully. Clarice had hated him during that time, even though once he’d turned over a new leaf they’d ended up friends. There was part of her that was worried that he might relapse.

But that was dumb. Even if he had still been a bully, there was a difference between a bully and a killer.

And then suddenly, Conrad was gone from her side. Suddenly, he had the sword.

“Conrad, what the fuck?”

She tried to stand up, so she could cross the room and take it back. But a wave of dizziness hit her as she tried. Fucking hatchet. She quickly sat down again.

“Harold’s not Nancy! And he put down the weapon! Doesn’t mean you have to steal it, that doesn’t resolve anything except that now you have all the weapons.” Clarice’s glare got more pronounced. “And Harold wasn’t the one saying ‘we should try and outlast everyone.’”

She immediately recoiled at her own accusation. Conrad was just worried, he wouldn’t actually play. camn, what the fuck was happening to her? One scratch and suddenly everyone feels like an enemy.

Though, Conrad did steal a fucking sword. And everything he’d said since they woke up was some variation of not trusting anyone, or hiding, or ‘outlasting.’ All of it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

Clarice slowly started to get to her feet again, using her good arm for support. Her eyes didn’t leave Conrad, her glare still accusatory. And maybe a little hurt.
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By the time you hear the next pop, the funk shall be within you · Solitary Confinement