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don't take no guff
[ * ]
The wounded girl from the previous morning was what Leslie's eyes were drawn to first. Beside the reddened, burned arm, she was essentially the same as she had been yesterday, except in greater detail. She looked vaguely familiar. All three of them seemed familiar to varying extents, really; the world was small and Cochise even smaller. Everyone on the island had probably bumped into or at least seen each other at some point, which compounded their misery.

Leslie had been listening into the conversation for just long enough to realize what it was about and couldn't help but feel as though all of them were a few minutes too late. Any earlier, and they could have caught her right in the middle of one of her infamous 'ragebombs', as Junko had put it once. Her mind had drained itself of the hatred for now. That aimless sense of non-emotion had reasserted itself.

Without that burning, searing hatred inside her mind, Leslie just couldn't figure out a good way to insert herself into the discussion. She needed more information, more of a sense of where this talk was going before getting in on it and as much as it seemed an opportunity to get it wouldn't arrive, she had to.

She slumped against the far cave wall, as though out of energy, and sat. Then listened.
2015: V6 Incident
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St. Patrick's Purgatory · The Cove