Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Viewing Single Post From: Broken Like the Sun
Grim Wolf
Member Avatar
The Very Best
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
She falls, but she doesn't hit quite as hard as she would have.

She starts to fall, there's no way around that--Raidon's a weakling, he spent too much time on the computer or writing or working on different projects and scholarships. He never took the time to develop any of the athletic talent he may or may not have had. His hand-eye coordination is somewhat better than average, if the fighting on the island is any indication, but other than that he isn't fast and he isn't strong.

So she manages to take a step and starts to fall before he can close the gap between the two of them. And when he gets his arms around her, she's too heavy for him, and his legs are still sore from their earlier run from a danger zone; he falls with her.

Manages to get his body under her, though. Leaves him feeling winded and leaves his chest aching, but he manages that much.


He just wished he felt more noble about it.

She scrambled away from him, as though his touch were diseased and repellent. He winced, feeling his self-hatred grow a little more--even she can't stand me anymore--and then straightened out, making his way to his feet.

He hadn't had time to respond to Julian yet. Soryu had reacted too quickly.

He looked between the two of them--the idealistic pacifist who was angry at him because the world did not conform to her expectations and the would-be vigilante who now wanted to accompany him on his quest for vengeance. Raidon was more under control now--barring any hostile encounters, he though they might be able to travel together safely. He could use the help, truth be told--based on the Announcements, taking Maxwell down was going to pose a serious challenge. He'd have to watch his bag constantly, of course--he was one of the villains Julian had sworn himself to fight.

And then there was Soryu.

"Did you ever take Mr. Crawford's American History?" he asked.

Soryu's anger, outrage, and revulsion was now tempered by confusion. Julian, too, looked puzzled.

"Crawford," he continued. "One fourth Ojibwe Indian. Always managed to insert the Native Americans into whatever god damn lecture he was giving."

He thought he saw a little more understanding in their gaze now. Alright.

"He told this story once about this Native American, Little Crow," Raidon continued. "He was a Santee Chief who led an Indian revolution against the American government because the Americans had effectively cut off the food supply of the Santee people. When the revolution failed, he fled to Canada, but he came back to deal with his people's plight."

Neither of them had been his class, Raidon knew that much. Had they heard this story? Did it matter?

"The U.S. government often offered a bounty for the scalps of rebellious Indian tribes opposing them," Raidon continued. The details were all there; he'd found the story fascinating, and read a few essays about the subject on his own time. "Trouble was, you can't really tell the difference between friendly Indian scalps and hostile Indian scalps, and some people couldn't even tell the difference between Indian scalps and Mexican scalps, and some people were more than willing to take advantage of that fact."

Oblique--always come at them from an angle they don't expect. People are smart, they'll have arguments prepared for everything unless it's something they don't expect.

"Well, Little Crow was hostile, they got that right," Raidon continued. "He was shot and killed, and his killers were paid a bounty for his scalp. And when they'd confirmed it was his, they put his skull and scalp on display in St. Paul."

Let that hang. Wait for a moment.

"People aren't evil because they're desperate," Raidon said. "People are evil because they were offered the opportunity to be so."

"I intend to get off this island," Raidon said to Julian. "If we manage to escape by some other means, fine, but if the only way out is by winning the game than I'll win the damn game." No dressing it up. "So I you feel you need to kill me after we take out Max, than I give you leave to try." He brushed himself off, feeling the ache in his back where it had collided with his bag. "If you draw on me, I'll do my best to kill you first, but you might succeed."

God, how miserable would that be? Gunned down by Julian Avery before...

"Max comes first though," he added immediately. "If we can agree to that, I suppose..."

This is a mistake, this is a mistake, you can't trust Julian and he's armed, you should just gun him down, but here's the thing; when Maxwell finally goes, you're going to be the most dangerous person on this island, and you know that for a fact. When that times comes, he'd much rather have Julian nearby, where they can settle it quickly, rather than have to hunt him down, worry about picking up someone else's weapon.

For now, Raidon was no longer a player. For now, Raidon was a hunter.

He turned to Soryu. "I'm not trying to turn over a new leaf, I'm not trying to be something new, something more heroic. I am not good and I never have been and I'm sorry-"

And god he was sory, the spear which thrust its way up through his abdomen and into his heart left no doubt of that, the nameless ache and the tidal fear which consumed him then at the fact that she might hate him, might leave him, and that he might never get the chance to kiss her all-too-sweet lips again nearly blinded him to all other possibilities-!

"-that I can't live up to your expectations."

He paused. "If I'm going to make it off this island, Lombardi has to die," he said simply. "And if I'm going to live with myself after this is all over, Lombardi has to die." He was armed, and he was unlikely (barring some sudden windfall) to be more ready than he was. He was strong, he was (comparatively) well-fed, he had an ally (albeit one on whom he could not entirely rely). "Vengeance, justice, something in me insists that I go after Maxwell Lombardi-"

Like his heartbeat, swift and steady, inevitable.(

He's got to die.

He's got to die.

He's got to die.

"-and that same something insists you come with me."

He didn't make a move towards her. "You can convince me I'm wrong if you like," Raidon said. "You can convince me that this will only fulfill some bullshit cycle, that I'm just playing Danya's game, that there's something better than survival. Or you can stay completely silent and try to kill me when I sleep, or you can run away at every opportunity. But until your leg heals you are going to come with me, if only because I will knock you out and force you to if you don't agree."

Keep this person he'd found to care about alive for as long as possible, in spite of the fact she hated everything he was. Go after the person who'd killed the last person he'd cared about in the company of a man whose code demanded Raidon die.

This isn't going to help you.

It isn't supposed to help me. It's supposed to keep me human.
Edited by Grim Wolf, Feb 21 2011, 01:16 AM.
Want to buy my book? See my short stories? Read my fanfiction? Visit my website!

V6 Players

Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."

V5 Players

V4 Players
Offline Profile Quote Post
Broken Like the Sun · The Felled Forest: North