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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
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Jacket on. Cigarette lit. Modicum of calm regained. Ordinarily, even if only in jest, Ema would've had something to say about the smoking. She always did, a sort of undeniable urge to passive-agressively complain about the self-destructive habit. But given that neither she nor Hayley had particularly good odds of surviving another week, she kept her mouth shut. Couldn't begrudge someone a small comfort after they'd just seen their boyfriend shot dead, and they'd likely not live to see any health problems from it. Speaking of their odds... Danya had said they were past the 100 mark for deaths, and if there were just short of 300 to start with, that put them nearly halfway. Those that remained were either killers or hanging around them like Ema was. Theoretically, their chance of surviving had improved. In practice? Coming across anyone that was still alive probably wouldn't be pleasant.

"Let's go, I guess,"

Fatalistic musing interrupted, Ema nodded her agreement, and pulled her hood back up. It wasn't quite noon, but the sun was high enough in the sky to be an irritation.

"After I've got my bag I really really just want to go somewhere really far away."

Fair point. Impractical as it was, Ema herself felt a strange desire to return to the Key, where she'd first awoken. She didn't mention it, though.

"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-"

That one didn't need finishing, Ema could imagine exactly what Hayley wanted to do in retaliation. She shared the feeling herself, a very diluted version, but still the same. She did not appreciate having one of the last few friendly people on the island taken away, or the detrimental effects his death had clearly had on Hayley's psyche.

And with that, Hayley set off back towards the clearing they'd camped at last night. Back to their stuff, back to that sword Ema had grown so fond of lately. It certainly wasn't as god-complex-inducing as the gun, but it still conferred a considerable sense of power, as well as of safety. Unarmed, having given Hayley her weapon back, Ema very much wanted to have her sword back in her hand. She hastened after her lone remaining companion, back to her daypack and her sword. Back to that sense of safety. Away from the gruesome reminder of her mortality.

Along the way, ignoring the voice that told her she'd regret it, Ema managed a single question.

"Do you... do you want to talk about it?"

[Ema Ryan --> Sprint for the Finish Line] - End thread.
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.

Riley Moon appreciates that Action Needs an Audience, but it's hard not to watch. Hair Status: Bubblegum Pink
Parallel with: The Heavy Weapons Guy

The Past
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Without Love, It Cannot Be Seen · The Woods: Coastal