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Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
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"Oh, sorry, I just kind of..." Ema handed over the gun without further protest and Hayley's hand curled around the grip like it was only the most natural thing in the world. Not like this was her third day waving a gun around, no, more like someone who'd been doing this for a really long time, which was disconcerting even to her. Not disconcerting enough to make her want to put the thing down, of course. Not nearly that disconcerting. In fact having the thing, Vera, back in hand was enough for her to release her other hand's death grip on her side, revealing identical gouges. She could feel the sting of them, but only just. She took her eyes off Ema and looked at Vera instead, and stared at for a little longer than was really okay.

Not letting go. Ever again. Ever, ever again.

She blinked- too little too late for her apparent sanity- and shook her head, breaking the spell the gun and that red feeling were putting under her, at least momentarily. She looked up at Ema instead and tried to smile, tried to make a facial expression that a real person (as opposed to the simulacrum she felt like right now) would make. The corners of her mouth twitched upward, but the expression didn't reach her eyes. Nothing seemed to reach her eyes, really. Breaking the spell had not brought any life back into her face.

"Oh, sorry, I just kind of..."

Hayley blinked again. Still nothing there. She really wanted to curl up somewhere until she felt like feeling positive things again, something that would presumably happen at some point in the future. She really wanted to find something in her to say to Ema- the poor girl looked scared to death. Probably just freaked out to be this close to a body...of someone she knew. Not to mention under different circumstances, that could have been her. The fact that her mind didn't immediately start exploring the possibilities of the 'under different circumstances' bit was a tribute to the severity of the situation. Doesn't matter. She won't have to be scared anymore, because I'm going to protect her. Nothing like this is going to happen ever, ever again you broke your promise SHUT UP. Never again. I'll be the best fucking bodyguard to ever be. We're gonna do this. We are.

Believe THAT shit.


"You might, uh.. you might want that." Ema spoke so quietly that Hayley almost didn't hear her. She turned her dead eyes to the proffered shirt. It was rather bloody, though admittedly she didn't have much of a choice in attire at the moment. She took it and hugged it close to her like it was a security blanket and not a blood-soaked Beatles shirt, getting both her chest and her shirt bloodier in the process. Productive. Not that she really cared much at the moment. Being properly clothed was really low on her list of priorities under normal circumstances, it certainly wasn't now.

"So, err... what now? We might be able to, uh, catch up to her......but we should probably gather our stuff first."

"Right," Hayley said, managing a response that didn't sound completely robotic. Something was missing from her voice, just like it was missing from her eyes, but at least she was moving. Speaking. She stood, still clutching her bloody shirt, and after a moment of consideration collected her jacket as well. It too was bloody, but it was black and made of relatively thick fabric already, so it didn't seem much changed. After a moment of consideration she pulled the jacket on, buttoning it once in the middle, leaving the t-shirt off.

Slutty as all hell? Well, yes. The blood stains on the jacket and on her chest added a touch of "psychotic murderer" to the skankiness, though. Hayley hardly noticed.

In a moment of clarity, she reached for her pocket. Managed to light a cigarette with shaking hands.

Inhale.

Exhale.




,,,Better.

"Let's go, I guess," she said quietly, taking another pull. She really needed to chain smoke. Preferably with a vodka and cranberry in her other hand. Preferably in Alex's basement at some incredibly trashy party. A girl could dream all she wanted, not like it would get her anywhere. "After I've got my bag I really really just want to go somewhere really far away. I don't think...don't think we'll catch up with her and she'd better hope we don't for her sake because when I catch up with that fucking bitch I'll-"

She stopped herself dead, swallowing her rage by biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. Now was not the time or the place. Shaking her head, she took a few steps towards the clearing where they'd left, trusting that Ema would follow. Praying that Ema would follow. She certainly had reason enough not to.



Wait.


Hayley stopped, and took one last lingering look at Kyle.

Kyle Portman. Her last boyfriend.

...God, I'm going to die single.

Some things never change.

[[Hayley Kelly continued Sprint to the Finish Line]]
Edited by Hollyquin, Feb 20 2011, 04:25 PM.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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