"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: I Swear I Won't Shoot
Moth
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Realizing what she had done, Gloria held the gun even closer to her now, though she didn't lower it out of sight again. Letting out a panicked squeak and holding the weapon to her chest, she looked between the two men with fearful eyes. This was bad. Very bad. Michael sounded nervous, rambling his video-game speak, and the other guy--

"Don't you ever shut up?"

Gloria ducked her head, shaking again. Oh God...Oh God!

"God damn it, this is fucking life and death! This isn't some fucking video game you can just save and quit! These are peoples lives we're talking about, not character sheets and dice rolls."

She'd been thinking something similar, but with less swears. Still, that didn't mean one had to go insane, yell about it--it was a coping mechanism, that was all...That was all, no reason to get angry! Lowering her head further, Gloria moved her hands away from her chest and over her ears, pressing hard, the gun still in one hand, aimed up in the air. Stop it...stop shouting, people will hear us...

The thump of the bag hitting the sand made her jump, and she fearfully lifted her head, praying that the noise meant his tirade was over. It seemed to be...he didn't look ready to scream any more, and he was speaking more quietly now. Gloria couldn't hear what he said with her ears covered, and as she carefully lifted her hands away from them, she only caught one word: "pills."

"...Pills?" she whispered, voice catching in her throat. Was that why he was angry? He needed pills, he was a split-personality, he was crazy?! It was a possibility..a nasty one, at that. Gloria swallowed hard, trying to calm down her heart--her chest was starting to feel a little tight. Okay...okay, if he got angry easily because of lack of pills, or sickness...it was best to not upset him further, right? Maybe not a good idea to travel with him, but...

"D-Don't..." she whispered again. "D-dont be m-mad...w-we won't...we-we'll do what...wh-what you s-sa-say, so...s-so please don't hu-hurt us?!" The last few words came out in a hysterical cry, tears starting to flow again. "Don't hurt us! D-Don't hu-hurt--don't wanna die--d-do wh-what you w-want!" She'd go anywhere he wanted to--at first. If he became horribly dangerous, she'd run...shoot him in the arm, the leg, somewhere non-lethal, and run away. She'd take Michael and they'd run.
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I Swear I Won't Shoot · The Beach: North