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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
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Ow. Ow. Stabbing. Brain. Ow. Fucking fuck ow-

Hayley could see sunlight shining in through her eyelids, and she wanted absolutely no part in it. She would have told it to go away, had she the energy. As it were she settled for squeezing her eyes shut, but that brought another issue into sharp relief- this whole knife-twisting-through-her-fucking-skull bit which was probably the most normal thing to happen yet on this island. Hadn't she always said, the best cure for a hangover is to sleep all fucking day? Yeah, and that hadn't worked out half the time, given her propensity for getting wasted on school nights, and so she relied on omelets and milk and the occasional hair of the dog and the ever-present cursing wildly. But there were no eggs or cheese or milk here on Survival of the Fittest, and they were out of vodka, not that any of that occurred to her yet.

Hate. Everything. Why do I do this to myself? Never drinking again...urgh...sleeping forever, thank you-

Again, a familiar refrain, one heard every morning after in Hayley's stupid brain since she had her first drink at fourteen. Like she would ever really stop. Nah, she'd get over it in a few minutes, and she'd get up and survey the damage, damage here meaning the person sleeping next to her. Because there was always someone. For the moment, though, stolen snatches of almost-sleep suited her just fine.

There were vague memories, flitting around the edges of her brain, but those were in no way conducive to sleep, so they were ignored.

There was someone next to her. Yeah, not new. Who, though? Her memories were all fuzzy. Had there been a party, she really didn't remember anything about a party, she usually had at least vague memories from the beginning of the night, before she got a few in her. Given that she was insisting on not thinking about things it was kind of hard to...


OH. Survival of the Fittest. Right. Well. That's...that's more questions, actually...

It did solve a couple of conundrums that'd been bothering her, like why the sun was so bright and why she was itchy and why she was clearly sleeping on a towel and why she felt that telltale warmth that only came from sleeping outside. There was another kind of telltale warmth too, the kind that comes from close-proximity nudity, not that that was a surprise either. Her curiosity was present and accounted for, but it could go fuck itself because she was going to sleep forever and no one could change her mind.

Something- right, someone moved. Hayley felt their body move away from hers, felt them standing up, and they could go hang themselves for all she cared. She would seriously kill someone for some cheese right now. Or eggs. Scrambled eggs. Scrambled eggs were good. Urgh, who the fuck was this, she seriously wanted to know, but opening her eyes would be this whole effort thing that she was incapable of-

She felt lips on her cheek, and that was somehow enough.

Oh. Oh, wow.

EMA. Ema? Ema. Holy shit. Holy SHIT wait what no seriously holy fuck shit fuck-

How. How even? Well, er, alcohol, that happened, yeah, but, it's Ema, Ema doesn't...Ema's not...Whoa. Okay, so I've been fucking my ex-girlfriend on live TV, that...that's my life right now actually. Wow. Uh...oh god do not think about parents. Johnny's probably proud. Or throwing up. I dunno but liOH GOD I HAD SEX ON THE BEACH WITH EMA WHAT IS LIFE

She managed to not freak out visibly, even as she felt hands that she now knew were Ema's brush her skin. Urgh, she was all sandy. Ocean-type bath time would be necessary in the near future, particularly as her hand was still rather sticHOLY FUCK THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED HOW WHAT URGH

Calm. Deep breaths. Cigarette. Cigarette? She'd kill for one right now, they were around here somewhere, but that was again something that would involve moving and moving was still absolutely out of the question as this whole freaking out thing was not improving her headache by one iota. Memories were coming back to her, memories that were paradoxically calming her down, as she remembered Ema, fucking Ema Ryan, her ex-girlfriend, whose heart she'd broken in a fit of stupidity, their lips locked, their bodies intertwined, those beautiful words-

"That was...amazing."

She remembered, and she felt better, a little. Sure it was a distraction, sure it was stupid, and she could've regretted it big time if Maxwell goddamn Lombardi had come loping down the beach and blown their brains out on the sand though that would admittedly be a pretty boss way to die. But look- it was over, they were both alive if a little...a lot hungover, Lombardi didn't materialize, and if she let herself get over the shock for a moment, there was this happiness left over there. She was happy. She was damn happy.

She was also in love. But that didn't matter. Happiness didn't matter, either. This was all so temporary that she really wanted to fall back asleep and let it all stay suspended in time for just a bit longer.

"Hey kids, it's Uncle Danya!"

Asshole. Hayley made a noise, an irritated sort of groan. She was not in the mood for this, she was not in the mood for this, she was, get it? not in the mood. At all. It was so much easier to pretend for a few more sweet moments that death wasn't a thing and that everything was normal and fine and not Survival of the Fittest-like. But unfortunately reality was just around the corner, waiting to smack her in the face, and she figured she might as well make a vague attempt to meet that shit head on. She stretched like a cat, yawning impressively.

"You'll be very happy indeed to hear that in a few short hours, you'll have officially have survived until the halfway mark of the game. That's provided, of course, that you aren't one of the three unlucky souls that have to die for you all to reach that point. Keep it up folks, I can't tell you how proud I am of your spirit."

Cool. She couldn't hold back a smile at this unexpected bit of news. It meant that all the bullshit she'd been through in this goddamn game was adding up to something. She was alive, Ema was alive, and as the rest of the announcement went on to tell her, Team Campbell was still alive, Isabel and Jay and Dutchy and Sarah were all still alive, and she was, like, winning. Sort of. In a way. The only line that stuck out in Danya's announcement was

"Charlene Norris was the next to get in on the action, shooting down Kyle Portman, who was dumb enough to take the bullet for Hayley Kelly... which means that particular love triangle just got a whole lot simpler."

"Danya, you tactless motherfucker," she muttered, her first words of the day, classy as always. In her post-coital bliss she'd almost completely forgotten about Kyle. Kyle Portman, her boyfriend, her boyfriend who died protecting her, her boyfriend who was actually, you know, dead. Deceased. Gone, for real and forever. That had happened yesterday, just yesterday, less than 24 hours ago, and she'd fucking forgotten. She felt horrible for that for a moment, but the pain came back in full force, and a deep sadness set back into her bones.

She'd failed. She had fucked up big time, and she'd failed. And she put Ema into danger by pulling the same exact skanky shit.

Fuck me.

I...shit. Wherever he is, I hope he's not watching. I'm pretty...pretty awful, yeah. Sorry, kid. If I could take it back, I...er...

"I'm going for a walk."

Hayley blinked, and suddenly, headache forgotten, she popped into a sitting position, the blanket slipping off of her. This whole going for a walk thing struck her as a bad idea, this separation thing, and her paranoia was overwhelming her hangover. This was Survival of the Fittest- any given moment could be your last, and like Hayley would ever risk either of them spending that last moment alone. As if.

"Wait for me?" she mumbled, a bit late, given that Ema was already walking down the beach. She scrambled for her clothing- her panties, a t-shirt that she vaguely remembered was now hers. The rest could wait, she figured, but she took a moment to retrieve three more important things. Vera, a lighter and a cigarette.

She lit the damn thing and followed after Ema, trying to keep herself on task. Away from Kyle. Away from anything else.

Stay with the one thing I can make a difference with, yeah? Keep it going, girly.

[[Hayley Kelly continued elsewhere...]]

Edited by Hollyquin, Mar 23 2011, 08:25 AM.
being meguca is suffering

[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!

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