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Santa Sangre; Open, day 5
Topic Started: Feb 16 2017, 02:36 PM (801 Views)
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[[Fiyori Senay, continued from Love Is A Fridge]]

It had - when she heard it - come as a shock. Bernadette died. She... just stopped living. She was somewhere, on this island. She was somewhere, and then she just wasn't anymore. So close to Fiyori. And yet what had Fiyori done? What could she have done?

What stung more, perhaps, was to know who it was who killed her. Brendan had already been mentioned in the announcements before, quite prominently in fact. But Fiyori's vision was clouded, and so was her mind. She put it to the back of it, and only the newest announcement had brought it back to the front.

That, and perhaps the little fact that she was about to stand before the boy himself.

It wasn't Fiyori's decision to sneak up on them, or something. It wasn't as such at all. She was careful to tread, of course, as careful as she could be. She opened the door to the lounge and kept to the wall. Fiyori got a good look at Brendan - who was engrossed in his pain - and Alba - who was engrossed in the very same. As far as Fiyori could tell, in any case. Had she decided to reveal herself or not, Fiyori guessed, the two would have noticed her.

Politeness, however, required Fiyori to make note of her self first.

She gave the wall four knocks. Each one softer than the one before.

"...hey."
Fiyori Senay
 


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They greeted her. Fiyori wasn't sure how to continue. There weren't a lot of options that would be fitting in any way to carry on this conversation. Something she should have thought about beforehand, perhaps. Briefly, Fiyori thought about making a joke. About making the - turning the mood a bit lighter. Brendan was shirtless - clearly wounded by the look of the fresh bandages - but still shirtless with a girl. Fiyori thought about making a flirty comment.

She resigned that thought, though. She wasn't in the mood for such jest. Not anymore.

"I am... not dead."

She paused another moment. It might have been the polite thing to wait now. To wait for them to properly invite her into the room, but Fiyori didn't hesitate and simply strut towards the pair.

"And I guess that's good enough for now."

Fiyori tried to catch Brendan's eyes. See what they spoke, see what those eyes could tell her. If it was a message like 'I am sorry' or message like 'I hate you'. Or maybe like a message of 'I was right'.
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Heh. Sorry for not finding her.

Fiyori stepped closer, gazing on the damage on his body. "Trust me..." she said, softly placing her hand on the good shoulder Brendan had left.

"That's my line." she said then, and wrapped herself around Brendan. It was a gentle hug, her eyes still lingering on the bandaged wound, her hands careful not to touch it. And for that one moment, things were actually pretty okay. Brendan, who - somehow - killed two people, became Brendan, her very own friend. She didn't want to let go, not of that fleeting moment, and not of Brendan.

And yet...

Something clouded her minds again. A different, but related thought, but Fiyori hesitated to name it yet.

She let go, after all.
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Fiyori flashed him a smile when he asked. Technically true, someone did hurt her. However, lamenting her hurt feelings would be cruel to those who lost more. Especially standing before Brendan, who did lose something important of his body.

"I'm good. No one got to me yet."

It would have been - maybe or maybe not - a good moment for Fiyori to tell her story. It wasn't much, in hindsight, that has really happened. Fiyori could describe the last five days in less than five sentences. Regardless, Fiyori decided that it was her turn to ask a question. She looked over to Alba. She had wanted the girl to answer too, for the sake of clarity. But Fiyori figured that she'd listen anyway.

With her hands motioning at Brendan's shoulder, she asked, "So, what happened?" and she hoped he'd realize, that it was more than his injury that she meant.
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Fiyori showed Brendan a half-smile, albeit a genuine one. She appreciated his little joke and his ability to indulge her with this. The rest of his answer - although lacking in detail - was sincere in it's essence. And that was enough for Fiyori. For the moment, it was enough. He killed two people. He killed Bee, but she heard him speak, and she knew it was never his will to do so.

It was enough for her. But it dawned on her, it might not be enough for Ty. She hesitated.

"No, you're a good person."

So was Ty.

"Bee..." The word she wanted to use, 'was', seemed heavy. An admission of defeat to the fact that she was truly gone. Fiyori wouldn't get around that. "Bee was, if not my closest friend, someone whom I really liked. And I still say that you are a good person."

Yeah, Ty would definitely disagree here. She was sure of that. And as for the worst, Fiyori could not - would not despite all the assurances of her own she gave to Brendan - deny Ty the anger he would feel.

As questionable luck would have it, the situation allowed her to distract herself from this thought.

Alba had a rifle. The weapon drew Fiyori's attention, and she couldn't hide the fact that she mustered it intensively. From the way she spoke, Fiyori hazarded a guess. A guess that they had the 'chance' to use it - or rather were forced to use it - but did not or could not. Didn't want to, Fiyori guessed on that count.

She had a dry mouth, she tried to moisten it with some of her own saliva, but that didn't help much.

"...I know that the thing I am going to say will seem rude or arrogant, and for that I apologize.

Still, what good is a weapon that cannot be used? It's not even a good deterrent. A threat of violence if you can act on it, and the first guy to call your bluff will murder you - no, as of now - will murder us."

Fiyori couldn't help it. She started beaming just the littlest bit. Even she was surprised at how well those words sounded. From her perspective, at least, and that counted for something.

"Basically, I... if someone attacks us, please pass me the rifle."
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The situation was a bit complicated. All of it was a bit complicated, but that exact moment was notable in being complicated. She did laugh about it, in the sense that she gave it a few chuckles. Unfortunately, she couldn't hope to whisk the dilemma away by ridiculing it.

Well, she could, to be completely truthful. But she resolved to act, so she would have to act.

Brendan and Alba probably thought - Alba more than Brendan, Fiyori hoped - that she would take the gun and run. Granted, she had hers plans to kill some certain people. And getting a gun like the rifle Alba held would be a great boon. In fact, she could consider it a requirement. A requirement that might have been too hard to fulfill in any circumstances.

And yet, she really couldn't, and never would in good conscience take the rifle with her and weaken Brendan. The entire point of her resolve was to protect someone, and taking their defense away was, frankly, a betrayal, a sin, and most of all, simply counterproductive.

Regardless, the original point Fiyori voiced stood anyway. The rifle was useless in the hand of someone who wouldn't shoot. Alba apparently had promised to protect Brendan. In the bitterest corner of her mind, Fiyori thought ill of Alba's failings thus far. When she offered her 'protection', Fiyori's chuckle had grown into a laughter ricocheting through the lounge.

"Alright!" Fiyori clapped her hands, and the laughter stopped. "Target practice."
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Watching them set up their improvised shooting range was amusing. In a very dry sense, mostly because it allowed her to reflect a bit further on her own skills with a gun. Fiyori wasn't delusional in that regard. She had no idea how to properly use a simple gun, and the imposing rifle even less. Alba seemed unsure herself. Fiyori knew though that her own attempts would - at first, hopefully - look just as helpless.

"The way you go at this I presume there's no manual to this thing."

Fiyori folded her arms. After finding the position uncomfortable, she moved over to a couch and leaned on it to let her arms rest on the back. She bit her lips, because she had another question just popping in her mind, but she wasn't sure if she really should be asking.

"You mentioned you got this from someone." After, Fiyori guessed with the clues given to her, that someone was killed by Kimiko Kao. She went down a list of names in her head, but for the moment could only come up with Bradley's. "Mind telling me what happened?"
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So that was the power of the rifle. Fiyori, on a conceptual level, understood the lethal potence of the weapon. Yet seeing the gun fire, and it's bullets blast the walls, was as eye-opening as it was ear-shattering.

A drop of blood trickled down Fiyori's chin. For a moment she thought herself struck by the bullet casings ejected by the rifle. However, she had simply bitten her lip open in reaction to the gunfire.

It was fucking amazing. And it was so fucking terrifying. To think of it - to imagine a human rendered in tiny pieces of flesh by that gun was equally awe-inspiring and a vision of utter horror.

"Well, good thing you didn't hit the can. Would've coated us in cat food all over."

Fiyori approached Alba. From the left, of course. As a matter of safety, of course. When she took a few steps - loud, stomping steps to make sure Alba heard her - Fiyori cleared her throat once, and with a brief hesitation laid her hand on Alba's shoulder. Her head turned to Brendan, and she answered his remark with a brief chuckle. Yea, would suck a lot of dick. Though maybe they got lucky and whoever heard this thought better. Something along the lines of 'oh look someone has a fucking giant gun. Better run fast!'.

"I'd like to try now."

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Alba offered Fiyori the rifle. With a nod, she took it. To carry the weapon in her own hands was surreal the moment it happened. Even the fact that Alba went to block the door, and the fact that Brendan went to help her somehow escaped her notice. It was a psychological effect, but the weapon looked quite heavy. When she held it, however, it felt lighter. Not as easy on her arms as to twirl it around, but still carrying a lesser weight that Fiyori had expected.

Fiyori aimed at the can of cat food. The rifle rested on her arm, and she breathed in and out several times before she could think about triggering. Was the safety still off? That seemed quite dangerous, but Fiyori paid it little attention. She wouldn't know how to check that, and if Alba happened to switch it on anyway, Fiyori would notice.

Ha

Fiyori knew so little about guns. She knew that this rifle would eventually fall apart by the lack of proper maintenance. She knew that the accuracy of her shot would be terrible. And still, she didn't knew but truly believed, that if she kept diligent and attentive, that she could and would kill someone with it.

Ha... Ha ha

The finger rested on the trigger for a moment only. Then she shot.

The gun screamed.

Her eyes screamed.

The wall scattered.

The bullets flew.

And above all else, Fiyori was laughing.

"Hahahaha - fuck, huaha... haha! God shit man this is good!" She yelled. By then the fire had subsided, and once she looked, she could see the can of cat food still unscattered. It didn't bother her. "Hu, huuaaaa - hahaha, oh man this is grea- hahaha. Great!"

Fuck, didn't matter shit if she couldn't hit the piss can of pussy trash. That fire power was enough, enough to balance her lack of accuracy. All she would need to do is

fucking fire.
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Another day came. Another announcement came. Fiyori woke up with one eye and one ear first. Brendan had called the girls to awaken, but it was only so much that Fiyori was willing to offer to the metal sound echoing through the room.

The names this Danya commented without any respect - not unlike Bradley would have done - meant something for Fiyori. Some more, some less. She felt sadness for all of them. Even the day prior, when she heard of Darius' demise she thought to think well of him for a moment. They weren't besties, but they could stand each other at some times. Then there were people like Jeremy and Junko, and the former killing the latter. A wave-like headache assaulted Fiyori. She grunted in pain, but only briefly and Fiyori masked it quick enough.

Fiyori had a kitchen counter conversation with her dad about this once. Dad said people would get upset about their friend's death on day two, but get used to it as things went on. As it is with all tragedy that befell the world. Fiyori didn't notice that much. In fact, she could swear every announcement made her feel more.

Though what that 'more' was that she felt was still an enigma.

Fiyori closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

Or at least she tried.

"...Brendan?" Fiyori rose to her feet, and carefully approached the boy pummeling the table in front of him. She had for a moment not understood the severity of his emotions, so all she could offer was a simple platitude. "I...I'm sorry."
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All of them had their dark thoughts. Fiyori knew, because all of them took a look at the rifle. All of them were thinking something sinister, and though the images were different Fiyori'd bet they all were bloody. Still, she would've loved to know what Brendan in particular was thinking.

He was upset by the news of Michael's death. Alas, Fiyori didn't think a lot about the relationship between him and Brendan. Less so in the context of the island, which shifted allegiance and morality on a day to day basis.

Brendan then said to Alba that they'd need to find Jonathan. That was interesting, but Fiyori neglected any further comment. For the moment, at least.
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They both were probably still in the cafeteria. Georgia Lee, and Olivia. Or maybe just Georgia Lee. That was what Fiyori thought. She hadn't heard the cafeteria mentioned in the announcements, and as it wasn't designated a danger zone, GLD would have no reason to leave.

Fiyori doubted someone would make her. She was too smart for that.

On her own, though, Fiyori saw no reason to return to the Cafeteria yet. Saw no reason to meet Georgia Lee again. Yet. There still were some things she would have to do, some things she wanted to do. Stuff on the bucket list, so to say.

"Yea, sure."

[[Fiyori Senay, continued in The Wicked Die Alone]]
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