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In This Starless Night; Open
Topic Started: Nov 3 2016, 09:18 PM (1,075 Views)
Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Bryony Adams continued from Lavender))

Walking had very quickly turned into a serious effort.

It wasn’t far from the storehouse to the docks, and Bryony felt a little more energetic after she had taken her impromptu nap and actually eaten something, but a single food bar and a quarter of bread hardly counted as a meal. She was hardly an active person at the best of times, and her muscles were aching from her trek across the island. Her feet were sore, and she could feel a blister beginning to form at the back of her left foot.

Whatever she’d done to injure her knee in her fall had been more severe than she’d first thought, too; every other footstep sent an angry jolt of pain shooting through her leg, made worse whenever she stumbled over a divot or a bump in the earth. She had to stop a good few metres away from the docks after one trip too many, sitting ungainly down and gently massaging a knee that felt like it was burning, breathing through gritted teeth and blinking tears of pain from the corners of her eyes.

From her prone position, her heart slowly sank, as she could tell now that Alba wasn’t amongst the small group at the docks. One of them she recognised from the halls and a few classes but couldn’t put a name to, one of them she was almost certain was Bridgette from art club, and the third person seemed to have stumbled himself; he was getting back up now, but from this angle Bryony couldn’t tell who it was still.

It wasn’t the most welcoming of groups in the world, and she was still no closer to Alba, but she couldn’t just keep wandering around by herself. She needed more food and, maybe, some help for whatever she’d done to her leg. None of them looked as though they held anything too threatening; no guns in hands at the very least. At a time like this, beggars couldn’t be choosers. One of them might even have seen Alba at some point.

As soon as the pain in her knee had died down enough that it didn’t bring tears to her eyes whenever she moved, Bryony picked herself up and headed down to the docks, as briskly as she could manage.

“Hey, um… um, is everything alright here?"
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Bryony wished she had some sort of weapon right now.

She didn’t want a gun, or anything like that. She never wanted to hold something like that if she could help it. There was just so many things that could go wrong with a firearm, especially in the hands of someone who’d never used one before. She just wanted something intimidating to hold. A bat, or a club, hell, even just a tree branch. Even though she could never bring herself to use it on someone, it would just be useful in a situation like this, making her look a little more intimidating than she really was.

There was some definite tension between Bridgette and the other girl. Maybe it was due to them simply not recognising each other, but whatever the reason, it made the whole situation much more uncomfortable. Bridgette was holding what looked like a broken bottle, and the other girl hadn’t revealed what her weapon draw was yet, but even without being armed she was visibly more suited for a potential fight than Bryony was. It made her feel even smaller. At least back at the gym she had been grouped with someone armed, someone on her side.

Now, she was alone, and forced to start over again.

So, she focused her attention on Henry, who seemed to be lost in his own little world, and was asking for a… motley collection of items. It took Bryony a little while to work out exactly what he was aiming to create, and her heart leapt a little. First, though, she needed to get the pleasantries done and dusted.

“Um… hi… I’m glad you’re, uh, not hurt or anything… You’re… you’re making a fishing rod, right? I think you could possibly find some, uh, worms or something in the soil on that hill, the weather looks, um, like it’s turning to the sort they’d come out during… I don’t have anything else that could help, though, I’ve just… just got some playing cards and… stuff…”

Bryony could feel her cheeks flushing red as she spoke. She’d ended up rambling a little, and her excited tone was absolutely not befitting the situation she was in, nor was it an accurate reflection of her mood. The prospect of having something to eat that wasn’t drying bread and vile food bars, though, had been the first bit of good news she’d heard in ages.

“Um… sorry… sorry, I just… someone stole a bunch of my food as soon as I woke up and I just… um… you know…”

Bryony slowly rubbed her arm, feeling even more embarrassed and self-conscious now. She flicked her eyes up to glance at Henry and the unfamiliar girl, before looking back down at the ground again.

“My, um… my name’s Bryony, by the way…”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Time and time again, it felt like Bryony was taking one tentative step forwards, then two steps backwards.

She stood there, dumbly holding the two food bars in her clenched fist, too stunned at the sudden departure of Henry and the other girl to even move, let alone try and convince them to stay. Why were they leaving? Neither of them had given a particularly good reason for doing so; Henry had ignored Bridgette’s question just to tell them that he had to leave.

And even though she had only learned Henry’s name just now, even though she didn’t know a single thing about the other girl who had left with a plank of wood, even though neither of them were friends or even close to being acquaintances, she couldn’t help but feel selfish and awful that the only reason she was sad they were leaving was because she’d been hoping they would be able to get more food for her. She had slightly bolstered her rations, true, but she couldn’t even feel good about it; she’d heard the oh-so clear sound of hunger from the strange girl. Was she struggling for food just as much as Bryony was? Had she only given this meagre scrap of food away because Bryony had been self-centred enough to garner pity points when everyone on the island was in just as much shit?

Bryony sniffled, and blinked back the first signs of tears. It was always so tempting to stop trying, to just lie down, break down, and give up. It would be easy. As simple as just falling asleep. But she couldn’t do that just yet. The constant cycle of abuse her own mind threw at her was nothing new; just exacerbated further now that she was trapped on the island. She could fight through it. She still had to find Alba at least.

She unzipped her bag, shoving the two food bars in, before turning to look at Bridgette. She’d barely acknowledged the other girl, the most familiar of the three who’d been standing at the docks, up until now, and she fought through the pang of regret to address her now.

“Um… How are you… How are you holding up?”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Bryony stared at Bridgette for a few seconds, taken aback at the… bluntness of the other girl’s statement. She wished now that she’d actually gotten to know Bridgette better during their time at art club, found out what she was like as a person. They’d never really talked, as such. Some small comments, critiques and appreciation of each other’s art maybe, but never spilling into full blown conversation. She wondered whether Bridgette was always like this. Always so… upfront.

She couldn’t exactly say the other girl was wrong, however. She felt awful, and she probably looked just as bad. The last time she’d caught a glimpse of herself had been back at the gym, the reflection from the windows painting a tale of how the previous two days had treated her. She had looked pretty haggard then. She didn’t want to imagine what she looked like now. “Barely surviving” would likely be an accurate descriptor.

Barely surviving was still surviving, though, and out here, the thinnest of margins could make all the difference.

Bryony sighed, and gave Bridgette a weak and completely unconvincing smile, that quickly turned into a grimace as she shifted her position and put a little too much pressure on her injured knee. Slowly, she lowered herself until she was sitting cross legged on the docks. She didn’t look at Bridgette. Her right finger traced invisible shapes and patterns on the ground in front of her.

“Not… not really, no…” Bryony mumbled. “I’ve been robbed, I fu… I messed up my leg… I saw… I saw someone get… get killed…”

Bryony could feel her lip begin to wobble and the tell-tale sign of her eyes growing damp as she blinked. She quickly took her glasses off, and busied herself with cleaning them, trying her best to distract herself, trying to hide her tears from Bridgette.

“Um… and I lost… I lost track of the person who saved me on the first day… Have you seen a girl named Alba recently?”

Bryony traced a circle on the ground. She sniffed, then finally looked up at Bridgette.

“She… she means a lot to me…”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
It was growing increasingly more obvious that, yes, bluntness was in fact Bridgette’s MO. Bryony was on the verge of tears in front of the girl, and on the edge of spilling everything that was in her heart and her mind to a girl she barely knew, just because they were the first person who’d stopped to listen to what she’d been through since Alba had joined up with her on the beach a stone’s throw away. And yet the expression on Bridgette’s face barely shifted further than neutral, the tone of her voice not rising above the same.

Maybe she didn’t care about Bryony’s plight, and was just talking to resume some sense of normality. Maybe she really did, and just struggled to get those cares across in the way she spoke. Bryony really had no idea. This was beginning to make her realise just how few people she really knew at Kingsman, just how few people she could truly count as friends. So few people, stuck on such a huge island, with killers, multiple time killers, roaming around as well. What were the chances she would manage to find them again?

It was almost enough to make Bryony want to stop and give up again. Almost, however, was the vital word. There was something inside of her that kept her going, no matter what bullshit was aimed in her direction. She sketched one last thing in the dirt on the docks with her finger, an almost instinctive thing, really; something she added to every sketch she made just to show it off as being hers. Then, with a shaky breath, she stood up again and looked at Bridgette.

She barely knew Bridgette and she had no idea whether she’d ever see Alice or Sandra or Alba again. That just made it even more vital to get closer to anyone who was even vaguely friendly in this place.

“Um, sorry… I guess that wasn’t exactly the best choice of, uh, words. I mean, um, technically I did get attacked, by the guy who stole my stuff, but I don’t, um, know who… who he was…”

Bryony let out another shuddering sigh, closing her eyes and taking a couple of calming breaths. She was tripping over herself and rambling. She just needed to focus and relax. Easier said than done, but she had to try anyway.

“I… tried to escape, on the first day. As soon as I’d woken up, even… and when, uh… and when that didn’t work… I was completely prepared to, um… to… die. I couldn’t see any other way out of this thing, especially not for me, and I just wanted out. But… Alba was there, and she talked to me and talked me out of it and she… just made me realise that there’s always some hope left. And… and if you can’t find it, you’ve got to make it yourself…”

Bryony twined a strand of hair from her right pigtail around her finger. It was getting kinda loose. Next time she got a chance to rest she’d have to sort it out. It was a strange thing to worry about, but she’d managed to inspire herself. Maybe, by some minor miracle, her hairstyle getting messed up would be the only issue she’d have to deal with from now on.

“Would you… um, would you care to join me? To look for Alba? I could help you find, um… anyone you’re looking for, if you wanted…”

Bryony glanced down at the ground, catching sight of her scrawling in the dirt.

=)
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
“Girl… Girlfriend? Huh?”

Bryony’s head snapped up almost instantaneously, as if a catch on her neck had just been released. She could feel the heat flooding her face already; no doubt her cheeks had turned a lovely rosy red colour by now. Her mind raced and her mouth hung ajar as she tried to think of something intelligent to say, rather than stammering like a fish on land.

She wasn’t sure what part to refute first. The ‘Alba is my girlfriend’ part made the most sense; it was completely incorrect to begin with, after all, and would be easy to disprove thanks to Alba being a Junior that neither of them had ever met before this. But it was oh so very, very hard for Bryony to ignore the desire to quash Bridgette’s (frustratingly accurate) accusation that she was gay. Had she somehow found out that Bryony was bi? No, there was no way. There was practically no-one who knew about that, not even most of her friends, and definitely not a passing acquaintance from art club. It could have been just an assumption, but there was a horrible, nagging worry at the back of Bryony’s mind now, resurfacing again. Was she really just that obvious? Was the fact that she liked girls really just that clear for everyone to see, no matter how much she tried to hide it?

Bryony coughed a few times, trying her best to clear her throat at the same time as her mind. She needed this to be as convincing as possible; stumbling over her words would likely only increase Bridgette’s suspicions.

“Uh, um… I think, um… I think you got the wrong idea… We’re not, ah, dating or anything like that, she’s just… she’s just really important to me because of how much she helped me and stuff. I’d never, um, even met her before this week… or, um, y’know, I probably met her around school and stuff but I’d never talked to her or… or anything…”

Bryony coughed again. She looked down at the smiley face in the ground for support.

“Besides, um, I’m not really into girls like that…”

Bryony scratched the side of her neck. The wind was beginning to send chills down her spine now, snaking in through every gap in her hoody. She hoped that her t-shirt had finally dried out enough for her to wear again.

“Anyways, um, we should go… we should… um… let’s go…”

After a few hesitant seconds, Bryony stumbled forwards back up the slopes towards the island mainland. It felt weird leading the way, but she supposed it made as much sense her doing it as Bridgette. Neither of them had a place in mind, after all. Just a goal. She realised, as she began to head off, that she hadn’t asked Bridgette if she had anyone she wanted to find, but she would have plenty of time to ask that as they walked.

Chances were, it would take a minor miracle for them to find anyone if they were just ambling about the island aimlessly, but there was always a chance. A slim chance, obviously.

But a slim hope was still hope, and Bryony kept that alive in her heart.

((Bryony Adams continued in The Latest Story That I Know is the One That I'm Supposed To Go Out With))
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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