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Solitair
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Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit that impudence and malice pass for wit.
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She got so into the carving on the wall that she reached out with one hand and felt its ragged grooves, its angles and contours. There was no mistaking the style. Radio Asuka was here. The thought of such a promising new artist dying a pointless death on the island doubled Cassidy's sorrow, but just like Titus Andronicus, she had no more tears to shed for her.

She slumped back over to the central area to set Asuka's picture back on Warren's grave. She'd heard what the other group said, including Dustin getting rebuffed by the smartass of the group. The same smartass who just offered to have the two of them accompany him on their quest. She'd also heard the announcement, but she wasn't in much of a state to place names to faces. The only name she knew was Warren's, and she didn't need the announcement to tell her what happened to him. It was more the number that registered with her. Nineteen dead. How much did that leave the rest of them, at that rate? Two weeks? Less?

The throbbing of her finger and the feeling of blood on her hand delayed her answer to the dickmeister's offer of alliance. Those feelings had been there for a while, but she'd ignored them up until now. The cut didn't seem to hit anything major, so she'd given it no attention. But now she sat next to the grave, cracking open her first aid kit and figuring out how to best apply a bandage.

"Yeah, sure thing, man," she said, unwrapping the bandage after having applied them too tightly on her first try. "Just let me fix up this gash I got from digging this piece of shit pothole grave for my friend Warren. It's kind of tricky for me to patch it up, but I'm sure someone like you would have no problem with that, eh?"

She flashed a grin in the smartass's direction and finished bandaging her finger. "Seriously, though, I think I'd better just go with my friend Maria when she gets back. We've got some things of our own to do and we should probably do them ourselves.

"As for you," she told Dustin, who'd chosen a less passive-aggressive way of retorting to the ass in black, "just go wherever your cock leads you, hound dog." She giggled a bit at her joke before the devil she spoke of came crashing through the brush, looking panicked and scared and above all, battered.

"Holy fuck, Maria, what happened to you?!" she shouted, rushing to the aid of her best friend, who didn't seem to address her injuries that much. She just acknowledged the group and promptly fell asleep. Cassie did her best to hold the taller and heavier girl in her arms. So many things happened all at once that day, from Warren's body to Radio Asuka to Maria's collapse to the oppressive, heavy feeling in her brain compelling her to shut her eyes and join Maria in her sleep.

With a sigh, she turned back to the other group, hoping that she hadn't been too flippant in dealing with them just a minute ago. "You know what? Forget what I said. Maria's not gonna be doing anything for a while. I think I'll take you up on that offer after all." She gave the nice boy in black another, rather sheepish grin.
Edited by Solitair, Sep 26 2010, 12:43 AM.
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