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Rain, Rain, Come Again
Topic Started: Aug 17 2017, 09:46 AM (581 Views)
Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Bryony Adams continued from 1ИS∅MИ1∀))

She had run out of playing cards.

The only food she had left was a stale crust of bread and less than a quarter of a water bottle.

Even with her hoody on and her arms wrapped around herself, she was still shivering uncontrollably, wind whistling through the shattered window, broken branches dragged along the ground by unseen hands, catching on faded and tattered watercolour paintings.

Bryony’s situation couldn’t have been much worse, and so she tried desperately to focus on that, because the alternative was for the announcement to play over and over again in her mind.

She, like Alice, was huddled on one of the few stools that weren’t broken or rotted, facing the window and the great tree that had ploughed through it and what little of the island she could see beyond that. Her eyes bored through everything, seeing nothing, barely moving aside from her shivering. She didn’t care what she looked at. Just so long as it wasn’t Alice or Candice. She was too hollow to cry now, but she was certain that would change if she caught their eye.

For all intents and purposes, they had failed. They had totally failed at everything they’d set out to do. They hadn’t found Alba. They hadn’t found anyone aside from Candice. They hadn’t even managed to find a weapon. Worst of all, they’d lost someone, someone very close to Bryony. They’d lost her, without even so much as a goodbye or the realisation that she was dead until it was too late, or…

Bryony felt the familiar burning pinpricks in the corners of her eyes, and quickly swivelled round on the stool, trying to find something else to look at. Her vision fell on the easel standing next to her, a half finished charcoal sketch hanging on it at a crooked angle. She recognised the tower in the centre of the picture, cliffs looming behind it, even with the bell itself missing from it.

It wasn’t a very good sketch, in all honesty. The linework was shaky and there were smudges all over the paper.

Bryony desperately wished she had the chance to draw something that bad. But there were no pencils lying around. No charcoal, no paint, no pens, no crayons. Not even any chalk. The terrorists hadn’t left anything to chance.

She sniffed. Just once. Then turned back to face the window as the rain started to roll in.
V7 BAYBEE
Lyra Doyle-Let's live tonight like fireflies, and one by one light up the sky
Current Thread: The Glorious Evolution - "Sorry, that was a little weird, wasn’t it?"
Katie Agustien-If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Current Thread: V for Vend-etta - "Fuck off. Are you kidding me?"
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 loved the rain. She loved light drizzles, where you could go out for walks and not bump into anyone and hear the rain pattering against her umbrella and be left alone to her thoughts. She loved heavy showers, where she could sit at her desk with a hot mug of coffee or cocoa and a work in progress sketch in front of her, and watch the raindrops slide down the window. She loved thunderstorms, where she could huddle under a blanket at night in her room, the only light coming from whatever video game she was playing and the brief flashes of lightning shining through the window.

She wanted to think that if she closed her eyes, she would be able to magically transport herself to a safer place in her head, a place where it was cold and it was raining but she was dry and out of harm’s reach and she could just stay seated with her eyes shut, and nothing bad would happen to her.

But that was impossible. There was just too much that tied her back to the island. The freezing chill, making the metal wrapped around her neck feel almost unbearable, the scraping of branches along the ground, the constant sound of paper flung every which way by the wind, the eternal stab of hunger.

And her friends, in the same boat, a few feet away from her.

Bryony looked down at the floor between her feet. Her arms fell to her sides, hands gripping tightly to the edges of the stool. She stayed that way for several seconds, Alice’s words hanging in the air, before she turned to look at her friend, a forced smile on her face and tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise for anything. I don’t know if I’d have made it this far if it wasn’t for you.”

The words never made it out of Bryony’s mouth. Gunfire, a sound all too familiar to her now, ripped through the doorway of the art room, and Bryony screamed, toppling backwards from the stool as she tried to spin round. Her head slammed against the floor with a sickening thud, and her vision blurred. She desperately tried to clamber to her feet, but she felt like she would throw her guts up if she did. So she crawled. She crawled behind the easel, as if that would protect her, ears ringing and head pounding, the wind and rain picking up by the minute. She couldn’t tell if the shooting had stopped yet, all her senses overwhelming her, so she stayed frozen, hoping that the shooter would leave.

Praying that Alice and Candice hadn’t been hit.
V7 BAYBEE
Lyra Doyle-Let's live tonight like fireflies, and one by one light up the sky
Current Thread: The Glorious Evolution - "Sorry, that was a little weird, wasn’t it?"
Katie Agustien-If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Current Thread: V for Vend-etta - "Fuck off. Are you kidding me?"
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.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
There was an explosion ripping through Bryony’s head, that grew larger with every passing second. Her ears were still ringing, and she felt dizzy even on her hands and knees. The world around her was a complete blur, the dark clouds and total lack of light in the ruined art room making everything even more incomprehensible.

She could barely make out Alice, or Candice. She still had no clue who the shooter was. She thought she heard footsteps but it might have been her own pounding head. She thought she heard a cry, but it could have come from herself. The wind, the tornado, the hurricane, filled every corner of the room, and it felt like the end of the world.

She needed to do something. Anything. She tried to push herself up again, and once again, her stomach revolted. Her scrabbling hands fell upon something on the ground, something heavy, solid. A weapon, finally. As barebones of one as possible, but she couldn’t afford to be picky.

She needed to do something. She needed to start by getting up, and her head felt like it would split open at the mere thought of that. Somehow, with agonising slowness, she pulled herself up, using her weapon as a crutch.

She needed to do something. She needed to do something about the shooter, something to help Alice, something to make sure they all got out of there alive. But her mind was still overwhelmed, noise and pain pounding against her head, and, just like every time she had been overwhelmed before, just like when she had been at the gym so long ago with Alba and Kimiko and Bradley, she froze.

She froze, until it was too late for her actions to have done anything regardless.

She needed to do something. Her mind wasn’t letting her, her thoughts locked on solely to pain and confusion and hoping that Alice was alright and not the hows of making sure that would happen.

So her body took over.

And she ran.

((Bryony Adams continued in A History of Bad Decisions))
V7 BAYBEE
Lyra Doyle-Let's live tonight like fireflies, and one by one light up the sky
Current Thread: The Glorious Evolution - "Sorry, that was a little weird, wasn’t it?"
Katie Agustien-If you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch, make it a good one
Current Thread: V for Vend-etta - "Fuck off. Are you kidding me?"
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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