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Bloodgarden; An endless dedication... (CONTENT WARNING)
Topic Started: Dec 24 2010, 06:47 PM (11,676 Views)
xylophonefairy
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gubernaculum
[ *  *  * ]
((Neill Robertson continued from Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly.

Would like to point out that this is a momentary lapse from my awayness, I won't be back again until next Tuesday. Not that it really matters seeing as this is my only active character....))

How on earth had this happened?

Bobby had, and there was no other explanation for it, evaporated. Or climbed a tree and fallen asleep. Perhaps there had been a rapture and he had been taken away (that last one was tempting to tease Rachel with, but he was still a little bit too scared of her to make jokes about her religion). There had been that escape call, that Neill hadn't quite trusted, and not wanted to bring up when Rachel's name was read out on the list of people not welcome along. And she hadn't taken that news well, and it had taken all of his strength then to stay with her and not to run to the nearest beach and leave on an escape boat.

Because by the time Rachel had calmed down enough for him to even think about leaving her, he sensed it was too late. He was too far away, it had been too long. Time kept ticking while the Catholic went crazy.

He had missed his shot, even though it looked like the escape boats were pretty dangerous places to be right now. And of course, this meant that his escape plan was more important than ever. He had already picked a thousand holes in it, the first one being that the collars of dead people probably would explode, as that was probably a defense function to stop people experimenting on the dead to try and remove collars. Still, he knew that there must be something to his theory. There must be some way to play dead.

Even after days of thinking, however, he still had no idea how to implement it.

Rachel hadn't been much help, either. She seemed passively supportive of her plans, but offered none of her own. Neill was letting this slide, however, for fear that she might turn on him and condemn him to hell in the same motion.

At some point it had gotten dark, and by automatic gesture he had retrieved his torch from his bag. He kept the beam low, and partly covered by his hand, feeling antsy about using them in the darkened woods. They were so bright against the impenetratable darkness. Bright enough to pick out blood on the grass, a deeply stained patch of red that instantly quickened his pulse. He turned his torch of with the click of a button, and the click seemed to echo off the trees around them. His breath caught in his throat.

"What happened here?"

"Sssh," Neill said softly, as Rachel grabbed onto him, and he tried to support her as best he could. "Turn your torch off." He got a distinctly bad feeling about this, especially as he was already on edge. It paid to be cautious, caution had kept him and Bobby and Ray (Ray! They still hadn't found him...) alive for days.
the world is on my side
i have no reason to run


v4 nostalgia

shiny shiny V5 concepts (now with clickies)
Phoebe Cho - I shall be playing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor. Wizard!
Harry Hanley - I've got Hershey's at half price today! Get 'em quick before I have rehearsal!
Lor Van Diepen - I'm gonna make a video later. About running. Does that sum me up enough?
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xylophonefairy
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gubernaculum
[ *  *  * ]
As Rachel clutched for the edges of his shirt, he gripped her wrist in his hand. For one wild moment he considered throwing her off and fleeing into the night, but the fact was that he hadn't actually been alone at any point for the entire time he'd been here. First there had been Jaclyn, the crazy girl who'd talked of knights and noble steeds before winding up dead about half an hour later. That seemed so long ago now she might have never existed. Then Bobby and Ray, his brothers, and now Rachel. He didn't know how to survive on his own, and after a second he loosened his grip.

Rachel attempted to lure out the voice, something that made Neill feel nervous, but it was too late now. He continued to edge slowly in the direction that they had come from. After all, what were the odds that the person,, that floating, unidentified voice, was actually behind them? Glancing down to watch his feet, he became aware that they were bathed in the pale white glow of the moon, and that all around them was dark. They lit up like a beacon in the forest. We need to get out of the clearing. Need to get under the cover of the trees.

But then the voice stepped into view.

Brook. Neill didn't know Brook. He was nothing more than a name. They had no real mutual friends and had never shared a class. They came from different middle schools and lived in different parts of town. There were few people in their grade that he was less connected to. Few people that he new less about. And yet, as the gun glinted in the moonlight, it was this person, this stranger but for a name, that was probably going to kill him.

Words flitted in and out of Neill's mind like a dance. Things he knew that he should say. He needed to tell his father and his brother how much they meant to him. To tell his mother that she didn't need to feel guilty for not being around much. Needed to tell his sister how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to protect her when she was growing up; a stranger in the same town. But there was only one word that made it past his brain to his lips. A word that fluttered around in his mouth as he remained rooted to the spot. Neill Robertson, famed throughout his life for always saying more than was needed, a man of many words brought down to one.

Run.

But he couldn't say it; he knew that if they ran then Brook would shoot. It seemed he was as desperate for them to stay as he and Rachel were desperate to leave. Had Brook been crazy at school? He couldn't remember ever hearing anything. But then, he wasn't even sure who the guy hung around with, let alone the answers to delicate questions about his mental health. He'd watched the previous series'. This island would turn people crazy. In fact, Neill marvelled at how sane he still was, and attributed it to being around people.

"Hi, Brook," Neill said softly. This was a delicate matter. Treat people how you'd like to be treated. How did Brook wanted to be treated? Maybe just nicely, that was all that Neill wanted at the moment. That and a McDonalds. "Please, don't hurt us. We- we're good people," I'm a good person, Rachel is somewhat dubiously good... "We might be able to help you. Not that, um, I'm suggesting you need help. But if you want it, we can help you."
the world is on my side
i have no reason to run


v4 nostalgia

shiny shiny V5 concepts (now with clickies)
Phoebe Cho - I shall be playing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor. Wizard!
Harry Hanley - I've got Hershey's at half price today! Get 'em quick before I have rehearsal!
Lor Van Diepen - I'm gonna make a video later. About running. Does that sum me up enough?
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xylophonefairy
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gubernaculum
[ *  *  * ]
He'd almost done it. As he'd spoken, Brook's expression had softened and Neill thought for a wild moment that he might succeed. For once, his preference for talking over doing might actually have done some good. And he'd debated what to do next, perhaps he could lull Brook into something of a hypnotised state and then run away? Or should he stay here and continue his work? Perhaps he was lost on linguistics, perhaps psychiatry was his calling?! Though that required years of medical school and pre med and that meant science. Neill wasn't a hug fan of science.

Of course, just as he'd gotten his future planned out, she'd spoken.

"No we won't." Neill squeezed his eyes shut in an awkward frustration, before opening them. In the few seconds of blurriness that followed, he rolled his eyes. "There is no help for you, demon. Go back to the hell you came from." With that she clutched at her crucifix, and paralleling her, he clutched at the packet of cigarettes in his pocket. He really needed to light one up right now, but what if Brook was some crazy anti-smoking campaigner? Never aggravate the guy with the gun. Still, it wasn't like they were totally unarmed. The drip stand, broken in half, might work to confuse him for long enough for Neill to run away.

Still, Neill couldn't help but stifle a grin at Brook's impression of being posessed. It was scary as hell, yes, but it was also something he'd been secretly wanting to do for a few days now. He pressed his lips together until the urge to laugh passed, and prayed to a God that he didn't believe in that neither of the two crazy people he was sharing a clearing with noticed.

"No," Neill said quietly to Rachel. "Don't tempt him! Don't be tempted by the, er, devil," he said, trying to appeal to her.
the world is on my side
i have no reason to run


v4 nostalgia

shiny shiny V5 concepts (now with clickies)
Phoebe Cho - I shall be playing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor. Wizard!
Harry Hanley - I've got Hershey's at half price today! Get 'em quick before I have rehearsal!
Lor Van Diepen - I'm gonna make a video later. About running. Does that sum me up enough?
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xylophonefairy
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gubernaculum
[ *  *  * ]
Neill's eyes widened and he took a step back as the sound of the shot riccocheted around them. His foot twisted over a tree stump, and he stopped, just as Rachel fell to the floor. Brook was mocking her for her beliefs, and as much as he might have agreed with his devil impression a few moments earlier, this irritated him. He struggled to find the words, there were too many of them milling around in his brain. He didn't know what he was feeling, how he felt about Rachel, whom he had been so scared of before, reduced to Brook's mercy as she sat broken on the floor. How he felt about the fact that he was still here, the fact that his legs wouldn't move, even though he was willing them to. He's distracted! This is your time to run!

He turned, just about convincing himself to leave, when he heard her speak. It was a quiet, desperate sound, just loud enough for him to hear what she was saying. And then his breath caught in his throat and bile churned in his stomach. His heart pulsed to that blood rushed up around his ears, and he could feel his cheeks growing ever so slightly warm. He had spent so long worrying about himself, that he hadn't even bothered to think about what other people were worrying for.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

That was what they said when they asked for forgiveness. Christians and Catholics and things. The reason they asked for forgiveness was because they didn't want to go to Hell when they died, but wanted to frolic with Jesus and the 69 virgins. And suddenly, with crashing realisation, he felt worried for her. He was scared on her behalf that she would end up in the Hell that she had dedicated her entire life to trying to avoid, because of the things she had been forced into while she was on this island. He closed his eyes for a moment, and said a prayer for the first time in his life.

Hi, God, or whoever you are. If anyone's there. Please, forgive her. Forgive everyone. This is an unfair world, and this is an unfair trial. When it's kill or be killed what are supposed to do, pray? She's been so... religious all her life, she doesn't deserve it to end like this. Uh, that's all. Amen?

"Leave her alone," Neill said when he opened his eyes. He felt his eyes begin to water and rubbed them furiously, already planning to blame his tears on hayfever. "Just let her die in peace."
the world is on my side
i have no reason to run


v4 nostalgia

shiny shiny V5 concepts (now with clickies)
Phoebe Cho - I shall be playing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor. Wizard!
Harry Hanley - I've got Hershey's at half price today! Get 'em quick before I have rehearsal!
Lor Van Diepen - I'm gonna make a video later. About running. Does that sum me up enough?
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xylophonefairy
Member Avatar
gubernaculum
[ *  *  * ]
Two shots.

Bang. Bang.

Two little bullets, he could see one of them on the ground, the one that had passed straight through him slightly above and to the left of his navel. Another had gone into his shoulder and gotten stuck, it felt cold and metallic. Neill swayed as he tried to make sense of what had happened; his head felt cloudy.

There was a part of his book, when Claudette's brother was found guilty of treason in England and was being put to death, when he made a speech. Or would make a speech, as the fire started pounding in his skin and getting deeper, and a gust of wind whistled through the hole in his abdomen, Neill realised that he probably wasn't going to get to write his book. And as Benoit faced his demise, he was facing his own.

He stumbled back, knocking into a tree and half slumping to the floor. His hands rested on his bent knees, and his palms left sweat patches against his trousers. He moved them to his eyes, trying to keep them open. As long as I can see something I'm still alive. Blearily, and through fading vision, he saw Brook shoot Rachel squarely in the forehead. Point blank. Her hand unravelled from her rosary for the last time.

Benoit's speech... The hardest part to write came easily to him now. He spoke it out loud, rolling the words around on his tongue.

"I started a revolution because I saw innocent people killing their others for no reason. I saw their regret, and I saw the expression on their faces as they looked into the deepest and darkest corners of what made them human."

Neill used the tree he had fallen against to lever himself to his feet. Any movement of his left arm ached like someone scratching their fingernails on a blackboard, it grated deep parts of his brain he was barely sure existed. But he focussed on Rachel's dead body, her corpse, and then towards Brook, feeling a surge of adrenaline and hatred as he lurched forwards. He had no weapon; the drip stand was with his bag, discarded just out of reach, but his hands burned with a need to do something.

Even as he pushed himself away from the tree, he realised it was a mistake. He would live a lot longer sitting patiently and quietly and waiting to die. But none of it was worth it if he couldn't get some revenge. We should have waited for Bobby. I should have run away from Rachel and gone to the boats. I wonder how the people on the boats are doing. They might be back in America by now. Sitting on plastic chairs and drinking milkshakes. Watching TV. Playing computer games.

Freedom.

"Aaaaaaah!" Neill yelled, almost gleefully. It was a sound he hadn't attempted to make in almost a decade, the sound of him and Sam running down the hill near their home, brandishing sticks with mud painted across their cheeks. The sound they made as they jumped from the top of the sturdy bookcase in their Mom’s living room onto the sofa. The sound as they chased Yvonne around the lawn, as she ducked behind their father's knees and he laughed and scooped her tiny frame up in his arms, missing her as much as her brothers were. And Neill and Sam had run in circles around their Dad, still making that childhood noise. The yell.

Neill stumbled forward as his yell ran out of steam; brandishing his right fist as he hunched his left should painfully. Blood poured from the hole in his body and the movement created another gust of wind that tickled parts of his body that were never supposed to be exposed to the outside world. And after the third step, half of the distance between him and his target, half of the distance between him and his redemption, he fell.

He thought he could hear the echo of his yell, but it faded quickly. Instead it was replaced with distant voices, a twig snapping. People, nearby. Neill wanted to call out to them, to warn them of the madman that was residing in these woods. Warn them of the garden he hoped he was important enough to become a part of.

Then very quickly there was nothing.

B021, NEILL ROBERTSON - DECEASED.
the world is on my side
i have no reason to run


v4 nostalgia

shiny shiny V5 concepts (now with clickies)
Phoebe Cho - I shall be playing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor. Wizard!
Harry Hanley - I've got Hershey's at half price today! Get 'em quick before I have rehearsal!
Lor Van Diepen - I'm gonna make a video later. About running. Does that sum me up enough?
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
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