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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
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Ema's attention was first drawn away from her lovely corpsey tea party - well, not really a tea party, more a one-sided conversation, and there wasn't even any tea invo-- FOCUS. It was first drawn away, before being drawn back again by her dissection of the phrase "tea party", by what sounded like someone jerking awake, as if from a bad dream, or having been forcibly woken up. Or just being surprised that they were even asleep. That sort of startled snort kind of sound, Ema knew it well from being woken up long before she wanted to by her parents. It was nearby, too. Maybe one of those corpses wasn't actually dead?

Not so, as it turned out. Ema turned her head towards the general origin of the sound, having spent long enough in thought that she was hence staring down the barrel of Janet Binachi's handgun. Bollocks. There really wasn't anything she could do, and frankly, it was all her fault. The sight of Gloria Benson had grabbed her attention right away, and she hadn't thought to check if what had looked like a dead body a few feet away actually had been dead, which gave Janet plenty of time to just wake up and pull a gun on her. She could go for her gun, being in her back pocket and everything, but the second Janet saw it, that'd be plenty cause to shoot her without asking questions. Even fidgeting would probably be suspicious enough for that. And with the few living people left on the island, no cleverly chosen words would be enough to talk her out of firing if she actually wanted to to begin with. Ema was a killer, she was armed and dangerous, and even as a team based only on survival, they both knew one would have to kill the other eventually.

Ema was absolutely without options. Helpless. And it was horrifying to contemplate, even before admitting she had nobody to blame but herself. She was doomed to die here, and it was entirely her own doing. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, and every quaking inch of her body betrayed her fear and desperation. Ema Ryan did not want to die, yet here that choice was out of her hands, and she could see her fate literally staring her in the face. And knowing one's doom is infinitely more terrifying than being taken by surprise.

But then the outright miraculous happened. The sound of feet colliding with stone. Hayley Kelly's footsteps. Ema couldn't help but look, and evidently, neither could Janet. The girl was armed as well; it stood to reason she wouldn't take kindly to seeing a gun pointed in Ema's direction. What came next, came quickly. Six gunshots filled the air, hard to tell whose were whose, and when they were through, both Janet and Hayley were no longer standing. Ema reacted quickly, running first to Janet to relieve her of the gun, fearing she might still be alive and capable of using it in spite, then to Hayley.

Mercifully, Hayley actually was alive. She'd been hit, and that pain, combined with all the other injuries she was experiencing pain from, must've been what floored her. It was just a flesh wound, though, similar to the one Ema had sustained on her shoulder a few days before, if considerably less shallow.

No time for panic. Panic was the enemy. It didn't matter that panic had scored Ema two kills so far, it'd also scored her an unhealthy degree of paranoia - partly directed at herself - and presumably a good deal of infamy she'd been comfortably without beforehand, whilst not giving her any tangible benefit, as neither Ma'afu nor Sapphire had been carrying weapons. No, panic was bad, Ema needed to think clearly. Clear thought yielded the obvious course of action. She ran the short distance across the bridge to the other side of the river, vaulted the side down to the bank, and quite literally dove for her daypack. A few seconds of hasty searching later, she emerged back onto the bridge with her so-far-unopened first aid kit in hand.

First things first, she rolled up the sleeve of the wounded arm. That done, she pulled on a pair of latex gloves - because an infection was the last thing Hayley needed, on top of all her other health problems - and, assuming the purpose of various parts of the kit, cleaned the wound with a drop of rubbing alcohol, placed one of the smaller pieces of gauze over the wound, then secured it in place with a bandage, all the while outright ignoring any complaints or pain from Hayley. This needed doing.

When all was done, Ema sat back, instantly dreading the very real possibility that she'd done something incredibly wrong. Her rational mind told her that there was no part of her very basic treatment that could be harmful; alcohol disinfected the wound, or something, then the gauze stopped the bleeding and the bandage held the gauze in place. Those things wouldn't be in a first aid kit if their most obvious use could somehow be harmful, right? Of course, her irrational mind was simultaneously inventing ways the alcohol could be killing Hayley's cells or poisoning her blood, or how the bandage could be too tight and somehow fuck up the rest of her arm, or how the gauze might not be sterile enough. The fear showed in her face, try as she might to hide it.

So instead she tried to take her mind off of it, just like everything else she didn't like on the island, instead focusing on the gun she'd taken from Janet. A Colt Anaconda .45 revolver, not that she actually knew that. In fact, she instantly assumed it was a .44 Magnum, the only revolver she actually knew by name. Fuck yeah, most powerful handgun in the wild west. Revolver Ocelot up in this bitch. Hayley and I are gonna be mad pro now.

At that, she realised she hadn't actually said a word to Hayley for the entire morning, not even a panicked call of her name upon seeing her shot down, so, finally, Ema elected to rectify that. "Uh... stupid question, are you okay?"

[Possibly subject to edits, but the major details are solid so yeah.]
Every time you fall asleep you die. Someone else wakes up in your body, thinking they're you.
You are alone and trapped in your own mind, the world around you is your lie.
Soon you will be nothing, you will never again hear sounds, never again see colours, never again be anyone.

Riley Moon appreciates that Action Needs an Audience, but it's hard not to watch. Hair Status: Bubblegum Pink
Parallel with: The Heavy Weapons Guy

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Who Died and Made You King of Anything? · The Logging Road