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How Can I Take Off This Mask?; that is your face, you can't remove the fear you cast (open)
Topic Started: Jan 5 2017, 09:31 PM (1,315 Views)
Iceblock
Survivor
[ *  * ]
((Melanie Beckett continued from Aluminum Bicycle Rods))

Mel was distracted, her hands in her jacket pockets, her offer to Aiden still unaccepted. She had brought it up once or twice as they traveled the past day, making light of it, slipping it amongst the jokes and other small talk she made with the others, but if he ever came around the offer was seriously still open.

Not that it mattered much, since they hadn't seen anyone. Maybe Serena's heart was more roundabout than she'd assumed.

That was making light of the situation again. It was natural, what she wanted to do. The repetition that she was doing what she wanted was comforting, probably because she needed comforting, because Cameron was dead and Tessa was dead and she wasn't in the mood to question everything she'd done up to this point.

She could have made a difference there. By not leaving. By doing anything different - maybe if she'd gone nuts and stolen Cameron's pickaxe for kicks, things would have turned out differently. They'd have formed a lynch mob to get her; they'd have become fire forged friends in their mutual hatred for Melanie Beckett. Alessio and that camera would have fallen beneath their might, or... something. And she would have totally saved them. If only she hadn't left. If only she'd been more of a dick.

She made her guilt absurd, and maybe that made her feel a little better.

Serena wasn't doing great, either, and Mel had some inkling of who she meant by Al.

"Huh." Mel looked for something witty to say back. Didn't really find it. "So... your heart's telling you we're going on a joyride?"
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[ *  * ]
Mel had just been about to kick him or something, arguably to check whether he was really alive. This was a bit more than she'd expected. She had to take a moment, had to take it in. Had to get past the incredibly stupid urge to run up and kick him anyway.

She glanced over at Serena, raising an eyebrow and lowering her voice.

"Now I feel like we're interrupting even though we got here first," she whispered, then looked pointedly to the side, towards one of the many trucks that were scattered around the depot. "I say one of us should check the cars while the other two of us keep an eye on this. You've got the keys, so... up to you?"

She was giving directions, and she wondered where exactly the impulse to do so had come from. Maybe it was because she was grungy and hungry and a little sleepy and didn't and wouldn't ever really feel like herself again. Maybe it was the gun. But the last time she'd led Aiden she'd led them into seeing way too many sights that they hadn't wanted to see. Maybe it was time to know when to doubt herself a little more.

"We're just here to look around," she finally just said out loud, and she was pretty sure she wasn't lying yet.
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"Get out?" The words leapt from her mouth in incredulous disbelief.

And then, Mel leapt too, forwards, pushing off the ground with all the energy that she had into a full out sprint.

Maybe she'd been real shocked when Alvaro had offed Irene - just like that, in one instant, because she'd figured this was low pressure, no sweat, no problem, no need to back anyone up, the three of them would just weasel outta this one 'cause they hadn't seen anyone in days and like hell they'd end up seeing someone die in front of them right away, they couldn't possibly be that lucky - so maybe she hadn't had the presence of mind to move when Serena had made a suicide run of it. Irene had pointed her gun at Alvaro just moments before. Now Serena was the one pointing it at him. For a moment she couldn't see any way this ended differently.

She moved, and everything narrowed down to nothing but motion and purpose.

Get out? Five feet, five inches and one hundred twenty pounds said no - stay down, you fucker.

There were no red cards here. The world was a big angry blur; she aimed for Alvaro, aimed to drop her weight on him and press down, hard.
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When the impact came, Mel felt it - there was no fight in him. Alvaro stayed down. He didn't get back up. It almost seemed like he wasn't really trying.

Maybe that made sense, somehow. Maybe he'd frozen up, maybe he was trying to reason out why he'd done it, maybe he'd just given up.

Or maybe he was just faking. She wasn't in the mood to play mind games, really.

She just kept pressing her weight down on him, keeping him from catching his breath, and hoped it'd be enough to make sure Aiden got the upper hand. It'd been a pretty dumb idea in hindsight, tackling him like this. If she looked up, she knew she'd see the barrel of the shotgun pointed in their direction - not really at her, but at her all the same.

They'd got him. It'd been dumb and stupid and basically suicidal if he'd had any fight left in him, but they'd got him. Now that the rush was fading, now that her tunnel vision was starting to clear, she began to try to put together what came next.
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[ *  * ]
Serena had leveled the gun and pronounced the sentence and Mel had opened her mouth in response. To say something, to object, to bring up something that seemed that have mattered at the time. But then things changed. She'd always reacted on impulse. This time, she hadn't. The moment of hesitation she allowed herself robbed her of her chance to react.

Oh, she still reacted, in a way. She got the hell off Alvaro once the gunshot rang out - once she no longer knew that Serena wouldn't fire right into their faces.

As he fled, she felt that burning anger again, same as the beginning. That flame licked at her insides and scorched its way up her throat - then she choked it dead before it escaped between her clenched teeth.

Serena was right about at least one thing, and that was that they couldn't just let him go. They were responsible for this. She'd avoided responsibility before. With Cameron, and with her schooling, and with all the other things that she could have done here to help others but that she hadn't done. Instead, she'd only limited herself to abstract things, things that stuck an imaginary middle finger up at the terrorists.

This was different from hearing the killers' names on the announcements, from knowing that Nancy had killed Sandy and having no desire to hunt her down. Alvaro had been here in the flesh and murdered in front of her. She couldn't let that go.

She was responsible for this. It wouldn't have mattered if they were simply stranded on an island and there were no terrorists. It didn't matter that the terrorists had goaded him into this. He was a murderer, a danger to others - and one that had been in their grasp. She needed to chase him down. She needed to at least try. And if everything went wrong, she would end up just like Irene.

No more thoughts. She pushed off again and was after him almost before the gunshots stopped.

((Melanie Beckett continued in Man in Three-Piece Suit Eating Omelette with Hands))
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