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Viewing Single Post From: Everyday is like Sunday
Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Good morning, kiddies."

Hayley blinked, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes. Not that she'd been sleeping, no, Ema had unknowingly woken her up the moment she climbed out of their bed-thing-that-was-in-fact-towels and wandered off somewhere. Hayley had woken, restless, from a nightmare she couldn't remember, and her immediate instinct was to climb out of quote-unquote bed, right after her girlfriend-type-person. Are we putting labels on this? Are we doing that? Is there a point? Not really. no. ...Girlfriend-type-person? Wow, I'm all over the English language today. She managed to repress that urge for the moment, though, for a few reasons. Number one, clearly Ema needed some alone time. She'd needed it the day before, after that whole face-shooting bit went down, and Hayley had denied it to her because of her own fear, her own lack of faith in Ema. Number two, Ema didn't exactly seem like she needed protection at this point. Number three, what the fuck had her protection gotten anyone in this game, anyway? It had gotten Alex and Maddy nowhere- who knew where the fuck they were. It had gotten Kyle killed. Well, really, he was trying to protect her, but semantics.

Oh, yeah, and number four, fuck getting out of bed, these towels were comfortable and shit.

Not that she had much time to appreciate it, since it seemed like only seconds before Danya did that thing where he was a fucking asshole. Maybe she had fallen back asleep, after Ema'd gone, who the fuck knew? She was awake now, though, and soon enough she was crawling out from under the blanket, because announcements were coming, and there was absolutely no positive outcome. Either there was nothing- except the reminder of what Ema had done the day before, and that sucked pretty bad by itself- or someone she loved was dead. And the odds skewed more towards that result with every passing day.

"My, my, if we don't have a new record. That's right, twenty-nine of you perished in the past twenty-four hours. I'd crunch the rate, but, well, that's what the statisticians online are for."

Damn. Twenty-nine was a lot. Twenty-nine was a classroom full of corpses. It was an ugly number, too, and Hayley wanted no part of it. She took a moment to dig through her bag, fetching Vera and- she still had bread, yeah? Yeah, she did, and she tore off a chunk. Breakfast. She ripped through the stuff as she made her way in the direction Ema'd gone. The other girl couldn't have- wouldn't have?- gone very far. Right? Yeah. She considered stopping for a cigarette, but really, how many did she have left? Not enough. At least, not enough if she was actually likely to live much longer. That not being the case, she grabbed her pack and her lighter. That'd do.

Her speed increased as names she didn't know were read out. Twenty-nine was a lot and she had quite a bit of karmic debt to pay off. Her whole body ached, begging her to go back to bed, but she couldn't do that. She just couldn't. She needed to wake up anyway, yeah? She needed to be awake. And she needed Ema. Her Ema.

Her Ema?

She barely had the time to think about the implications of that. Barely had time to consider her feelings for the millionth time, because Danya was doing that thing where he was an asshole, and that thing where he was shattering her.


"Madelyn Prowers gave up all hope or something and blew herself up. Yawn. It's getting old."


No. No...no, no, no, that...it can't-

Her arms found their way around her, her fingernails finding purchase where scabs had already begun to form in her sides, and those scabs ripped, and under her shirt she could feel the tiniest trickle of blood. Her nails were long and way too sharp and she didn't really care because she was busy trying to hold her pieces together. Pieces that hadn't healed yet. Pieces that were being held together by duct tape and denial and her hands, clutching at her sides, trying to keep her from falling apart. Literally. Somehow. For now, at least, she had to keep listening. There might be more to hear.

She sped up further. She'd need help, keeping sane, now.

Two more interesting names passed by her ears. Dustin Royal was dead- she knew him, of course she knew him, he was everything she'd want to be if she'd been born with a dick, and she was sort of sorry to see him go, and she'd probably be a bit more sorry if she wasn't preoccupied. Liz Polanski was dead, too. That was bloody fantastic and she was only upset she hadn't been able to do it herself. Vicious, maybe. Because she definitely cared right now.

She heard Ema's name, too, and the word "girlfriend", and a strangled "hah" escaped her lips, almost like laughter but not quite.

Suicide. No. Can't be. Maddy...how? She'd never. Maddy would never, she's not...she's not the type. Isn't that, like, a sin in her religion? She wouldn't. What could've made her? What fucked her up so bad that she'd...she'd do that? Why? She...if I hadn't lost her, if I was with her, she wouldn't have...it's my fault. It's my fault- no, it's not, I didn't do anything...I wonder if someone hurt her, I wonder, what happened? Who can I kill for this? Who can I...

That's what this game's reduced me to. My best friend's dead and I just wonder who I can take my revenge on. My best friend...


Not a euphemism this time. Not like with Ema. Ema was something different entirely but Madelyn Prowers was her best friend in Bayview, probably tied with the still AWOL Alex, and now she was dead, and she was gone, forever, and there was only one person in the world right now who could understand, because Ema loved Maddy, too.

She stumbled forwards, further, for what felt like forever contained in maybe five minutes, down, south, towards the cliff. The cliff that she vaguely remembered was no longer a danger zone, a cliff where she saw the silhouette of the girl she loved. Like the woman in the folktale, waiting for her husband to come back by sea. The thought brought her back to reality for a moment.

I can't break. I'm not allowed to break. I made a promise that I keep breaking, to protect people, and I can't even try to fix that if I'm a mess. Ema needs me. Ema needs me alive and conscious and whole and I need to...need to hold myself together, at least for now. For her. She's...trying to hold it together too, after yesterday, and if I...I can't let her down. I have to be strong. Be strong. Be fucking strong, girly, make it happen. Maddy'd want you to protect Ema. Maddy'd want you not to cry and she'd want you two to stick together and she'd want you both to be okay. You can do that. Can't you?

But her hands stayed put.

Hayley took the steps that still separated her from Ema, listening, hearing song on the air. A song she recognized, even. Was that Morrissey? That was definitely Morrissey. Everyday is Like Sunday. Her mother loved Morrissey, she'd heard this song in the house before, sick childhood I had, and it sent another pang through her that she buried, keeping the pain out of her voice as she finally spoke.

"Heh...girly, keep singing like that and the kids back home are going to think you're some little emo kid. And then I can't talk to you. Ruin my rep, you know?"

A weak laugh escaped her. She wasn't as whole as she wanted to be, but when Ema turned around, she found the strength to let herself go, take that last step forward, and wrap her arms around her girlfriend, her Ema. And for that moment, at least, her feelings were unmistakable.

And when her lips met Ema's, well, she hadn't planned on it, but it took the sting away.
Edited by Hollyquin, May 10 2011, 10:18 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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