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Hatful of Hollow; [Day 10] Closed
Topic Started: Jun 20 2011, 02:56 PM (1,414 Views)
Chib
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
[Harlequin Girls --> Ema Ryan]

She didn't notice it, at first. It just seemed to be the natural progression of things. Hayley had been gone a while, the immediate area around their camp wasn't exactly filled with exciting diversions to keep Ema's attention on the umpteenth time she plodded through it, so the vaguely-circular paths she moved in gradually got wider. It was innocuous, she would wander a short distance astray to look at a strange-shaped tree, or to briefly consider trying to climb one with some conveniently low branches, only to decide against it and move on.

It was all so natural-feeling that she never noticed it had happened until she could no longer spot the clearing she and Hayley had camped in in the distance. To put it simply, Balls. Eloquent, too, Ema's got to keep up her standards of being absolutely inept with the English language, in spite of her rich vocabulary and wealth of literary pursuit. Yeah, Oh... bloody... balls! What the hell is wrong with me!? is the absolute best she can manage.

Wait. What was that strategy from before? The very night before, in these very woods, it had worked. What was it? Spirals. That's the one. If she'd been walking in sort-of-concentric circles around where she started, it stood to reason that Ema could find her way back if she walked in an inward spiral. Of course, that was assuming she knew which was "in" was. She'd made enough 360-degree turns on the spot looking for which way she'd come from to make herself well and truly disorientated, so precision was a crapshoot. The only option was the guess. Ema turned towards the direction she was vaguely sure the camp was in, then set off on a shrinking-spiral path towards it.

A few minutes in, it occurred to her to look for notable clearings on her map - she'd had the foresight to bring her daypack as well as her gun, luckily - so she started to rummage about for the map whilst still walking, glancing around furtively every few seconds to make sure she didn't walk into any trees or get snuck up on by some cunning devil. So it was rather ironic, she later decided, that it was between two such glances that she wandered straight into something even someone as spatially unaware as Ema Ryan should have seen a mile away. The mountain of a man that was Ma'afu Tuigamala.

True to form, there was only one thing she could say to introduce herself.

"...balls."
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

The Past
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Chib
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Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
To her credit, Ema did recognise the young man she'd walked straight into. Not instantly, and she couldn't put a name to the face, but she did recognise him. He was meant to be one of those absurdly altruistic people one often hears about but rarely meets; volunteer work, friendly demeanour, general magnanimity, all the good stuff Ema herself wished she was, sometimes liked to think she was, but ultimately never had the drive nor the commitment to actually become. He looked like he'd been through a lot, too, and for her part, that was saying something; sitting against a tree, looking like he'd just yesterday escaped from fight club or something, Maf was certainly a mess.

But "a mess" wasn't what Ema truly saw. No, she saw the root, the cause, the presumed reason why he was in such a state. Any notion of the boy's well-deserved lovely reputation was banished by the appearance of a very tall, very broad, very violent looking individual. She hadn't been expecting to run into a veritable giant, and she certainly wasn't duly prepared. Indeed, "Balls" summed up her thoughts on the whole situation quite well.

Luckily, though, he didn't seem to be reacting, not immediately at any rate. This gave the spatially unaware girl a short grace period to back off several paces out of melee range oh jegus are you serious this isn't wow but he does actually have like a foot and a half and 200 pounds on me fuck fuck fuck. The was, however, a natural response to this massive imbalance in physical strength and the perceived danger. Ema dropped her map and scrambled for the gun inside her coat, eventually fishing it out and aiming with two noticeably shaking hands. It soon occurred to her, still backing up, that if she were disarmed she'd probably be snapped like a proverbial twig, so her left hand went flying to her daypack, too, still open from grabbing her map a few minutes prior, and felt around for her sword.

A few small cuts on her fingertips later, Ema produced the falcata, and soon elected to switch hands so that the more physically demanding weapon was in her dominant hand, whilst her left hand continued to point her gun at Ma'afu. Ordinarily, she'd probably have drawn a comparison to Cervantes, but such was her panic that the likeness didn't occur to her. Her mind was blank, even of the almost de-jure "Stay back" sorts of phrases. Ema had a gun and a sword, she was pointing the former at Maf and she had the latter in what she thought was a defensive position in front of her body. Surely that should say enough.
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

The Past
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Chib
Member Avatar
Oh my god you guys The Riz killed Cara what do!?
[ *  *  * ]
Something was horribly wrong here. Sure, she hadn't said a thing since first blundering into him, but it just didn't make sense to Ema that Maf could not just completely disregard her presence, but be so damn casual about it too, as though he was busy having a particularly good daydream, and just didn't have the time to pay attention to small girls that happened to be armed to the teeth coming across him. On some level, it was almost insulting. On most levels, though, it was unsettling. Her rational mind told her it was a good thing, she shouldn't be looking a gift-horse in the mouth, so to speak, because the huge dangerous looking guy wasn't getting up and trying to kill her. Surely that was an unambiguously good thing.

It should've been, but it only served to make the addled majority of the girl's mind nervous. How could he have survived so long, alone, behaving like this? It didn't make sense. It had to be a trick, a way to make her let her guard down and turn her back, so he could shoot her in it. Not today.

Ema's right arm, entirely of its own volition, raised itself high above her head, in preparation to counter the attack she was convinced would soon be forthcoming. Her left straightened out fully, levelling the barrel of her gun straight at Ma'afu's head, so she could stop him as soon as he tried what she had decided he was definitely about to try, whatever it may be. Her hand steadied itself, she clenched her jaw, she held her breath. She wasn't going to be killed here, no, not today, not ever. She had to live, had to find Hayley, had to get home. Had to get home.

Maf's expression changed, a more conscious, surroundings-aware kind of expression. He turned his head.

And then there was a bullet in it.

Or more accurately, through it. In that split second, Ema had made up her mind exactly what the young man was thinking, she'd decided on his behalf what his intentions were, and she'd decided not to let him either confirm or refute that decision. She didn't want to risk being right, didn't want to chance that margin of error. So as soon as he turned to face her, appeared - at least in her still-panicked perception - to be moving to get up, seemed to notice her, she killed him.

She'd done it again, Ema Ryan, the fragile one, the quiet one, the one who had no business surviving ten days on Survival of the Fittest, had killed a second person in cold blood, without so much as a pause for thought nor regret, or an honest scuffle to prove, if only to herself, that he had meant to attack her after all. She'd just shot him clean in the forehead and that had been the end of it. And why? He might've come at me but he didn't have a chance. How did I know? I... I just did? What if he hadn't? What if he'd been friendly, a new ally, a new protector? What if, what if... what if he isn't dead? He could be okay! I should help, yeah, he didn't die, it just grazed him, barely even scratched, yeah, he's okay, he's okay...

The feedback from Ema's eyes begged, no, demanded, to differ. Right before her, Ma'afu Tuigamala was doing a damn near perfect impression of Sapphire McLeod; laying on the ground at Ema Ryan's feet with a both eye-catching and eye-averting hole in his head, a lifeless body in a slowly expanding pool of its own blood. But was it lifeless? He twitched, he's alive, he's okay he's okay FUCK he's alive and he'll be pissed what do I do what do what do. Again seeming to act of its own volition, on instinct, Ema's right arm came into action. In a momentary thought that was something like "Not enough bullets just cut him", she swung her sword for the supposedly twitching arm of Maf. With only one arm and one weedy, underdeveloped bicep to guide it, the blade stuck fast in his shoulder, leaving behind it an even more nauseating wound in the boy's flesh. Ema began to panic yet again, hurrying to shove her gun into the nearest pocket and yank the falcata out with both hands.

An arc of still-warm blood came off of the weapon's blade when it finally came free, splashing a thin red streak along Ema's shirt and up to her neck. The perfect straightness of it was disturbing, and only served to heighten the adrenaline that fuelled the small girl's needless attacks. Plural, of course, because she didn't stop there, didn't yet realise that Maf couldn't get any more dead than he already was. Make sure he's dead make sure he's dead if not he'll come back like Jason and kill me in my sleep no wait that's Freddy fuck just kill him kill him kill him.

---

The next thing thing she knew, Ema was standing alone in a small clearing, with a horribly lacerated corpse at her feet. His - or perhaps its, being dead? she didn't know - blood stained the forest floor in a not-quite-circle around his huge fallen form. Cooled and congealing, it clung to her trainers, keeping her rooted in place, until she pulled both feet free with a vile, indescribable sound. It didn't take long to remember that the grisly scene was her doing, and the red stains covering her own face and torso certainly helped in that respect. Bloody hell, I've gone and... heh, bloody... I've gone and killed someone again and I'm giggling too. Oh Christ I've lost it..." Ema dropped her weapon, it landed in the almost-dry blood with a soft splat, and she cradled her head in both hands, soon stopping as she realised it only served to cover her palms in the red mess too. Instead, she settled for tilting her head skyward and looking for answers in the leafy canopy, and the clouds above.

After a while, she wasn't sure how long, the girl made a move. She stooped, prying her weapon from the sticky floor, and held onto it with as little contact as possible, as it too was sickeningly sticky with the dry blood clinging to hilt and blade alike. What had she been doing, before all this? Looking for something, or someone. Looking for a way somewhere, maybe. It had definitely been important to her, almost important as looking for a way ho-- Hayley. It didn't matter that Ema hadn't actually been looking for her sole companion beforehand, that's what she was doing presently. She had her bag and her weapons, it didn't occur that their camp was the best part of a mile away in some unknown direction, she just set off on the way she was fairly sure Hayley had gone, east, towards from the rising sun. Or away from the setting sun, now. It had been a long time. Ema would've retrieved her map, but it was obvious that attempting to pull it from the blood-soaked ground by Maf's body would be an exercise in futility.

Right then, try not to think about the dead body that I'm responsible for or all the gross blood, try not to dwell on how I couldn't even bring myself to feel any shame or remorse or anything about killing the dead boy, try not to think about any I'm a heartless psychopath of that no just estimate west by the I killed two people and don't even care sun and look for Hayley I'm a monster I don't deserve her and go back to gallivanting around like usual. Yeah. Do that.

So Ema did that. She headed east.

[Ema Ryan --> Confiscate the Crown]
Edited by Chib, Jul 6 2011, 09:28 AM.
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

The Past
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