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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
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((Charlie DuClare continued from Could Have Been Worse))

She wasn't too sure what she'd been expecting.

Something like a miracle, maybe. That nice magic moment where chains get broken and choirs shake off their cobwebs because hey, hey, jigsaw just fell into place. Jigsaw was one piece useless information from Charlie about presumably failed escape plans she wasn't even really privy to, one part je ne sais quoi from Aaron, and if you tilted it just the right way it looked pretty goddamn beautiful.

And so she had that beautiful snapshot of something that was never going to happen.

Because it turns out that when you bring nothing to the table except for pocket lint and desperation, you will never ever get your miracle. You will finish talking, you will stand for a few seconds while the silence whispers Is there anything else? You will mark the look on Aaron's face as he realizes you're at the end of your usefulness. And though an untrained eye will never notice, you will shudder and cower and you will be curled up in a little ball.

And something funny happened then. Nobody said anything. Not with their words or with their faces or with their silence. Well, technically Aaron was saying some things and technically Charlie was even paying attention, but none of the words were the ones she knew she was gonna hear at any moment. Try as she might, she never heard him say Leave or Goodbye or Disappointed. Which couldn't be right, she'd thrown herself at that group based on a false promise and now... no, they were just waiting, or something? Any moment now and she'd hear those words.

That was two days ago now. So you tell her what happened in the meantime.

Not friendship, not yet at least. This one was... harder than last time. But easier than the first time, because these people at least weren't such aggressively unlikable idiots. Some sort of happy middle ground, maybe, where she wasn't letting loose all her hellfire and four-letter words at the drop of a hat, and she wasn't... growing to like them.

If you grow to like them, it'll hurt more when you run away. And God knows, Charlie DuClare, it'll take a lot more than a good group of friends and a better shot at survival to keep you from running away.

So now there was this girl. Aston Bennett. With a gun and with a lot of very pointed words. Asking about Quincy Jones, asking about Tiffany Chanders. Not threatening to kill them- good heavens, no, definitely not threatening to kill them- and yet Charlie was more scared than the time the girl had tried to murder her with a hammer, or the time she'd started talking shit to the angry retard with the tire iron.

Just say no, just say no, everyone just say no. You don't know Quincy, you don't know Tiffany, she has no reason to stick around here any longer. Just say no like Charlie just did, like Charlie actually just shook her head because words were occasionally hard, and just say no and then

And then she'll be gone, right?
Edited by Jonny, Apr 4 2011, 09:03 PM.
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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No Such Thing as a Perfect Plan · The Felled Forest: North