"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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MurderWeasel
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Somehow we drifted off too far...
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It'd been a couple hours, and while Kris might still be fresh wherever she was, Kimberly was starting to feel a bit like she'd been rolled in grease. It was fucking baking, and her head was itching. Her nose was probably sunburned. Just what she needed. She reached her hand to her ear, found the flowers she had picked. They were wilted, wrinkled, dead. Whatever. She tossed them to the ground, looked at them just lying there.

It was hot. She didn't want to come down with heatstroke or inconvenient shit like that, so she took a nice long drink from one of her bottles of water. It was actually something of a process, given that her arm was still fucked up. She couldn't help but take another look at the Molotov in her backpack, since it was right next to the water. It was really, really tempting to just take the thing out, get it started, and set the whole damn mountain on fire. There were lots of dead pine needles accumulated. Fuck, she could burn a lot from here. Maybe flush Kris out, if the girl was hiding. Maybe the fire'd reach all the way to Brook and his shrine of horrors.

Maybe it'd be a really awful idea to burn everything in sight on a whim. No, no maybes about it. She knew it was stupid. Knew it was nothing more than another destructive impulse.

That wasn't what held her back.

No more killing. No more Aislyns. She didn't want to burn some pathetic fuck to death in their sleep. She didn't want to hear her name on the next announcement next to a laundry list of imbeciles who got caught in the blaze. Sure, she might change her mind later, might want to cause some more serious damage, but for now, she was content to repack her bag, adjust herself, and continue sitting. The afternoon was wearing on. Maybe when night fell, she'd prowl again. Maybe she'd finally accomplish her mission.
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Burn On · The Mountain