spare the dying. [ white rabbits, day 4 ]

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sidney
Veteran Member

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Pronouns: she/they
last seen Jun 4, 2024 0:17:24 GMT -5

spare the dying. [ white rabbits, day 4 ] Jul 22, 2022 22:58:16 GMT -5

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Post by sidney on Jul 22, 2022 22:58:16 GMT -5

BRODY
loomis.

Well, that could have gone better.

Alice crumples to the forest floor like a sack of potatoes. So quickly that he almost thinks something is gonna come spilling out after. Like a kidney, or her spleen. She is so badly beaten and bruised that it's hard for Brody to even find a clear patch of skin.

"Fuck," he mutters, sheathing his knife into his belt as he takes off in a sprint toward her. "Hey, hey, hey..." he whispers harshly, falling to his knees beside her and slipping an arm beneath her torso. It's funny, really. How gently he's being with someone he's been, for all intents and purposes, been using as a meat shield. But something about the way she looks in his arms right now, covered triumphantly in blood from head to toe yet utterly helpless and needing to be saved... it makes him care.

For now.

After all, she'd practically stepped into the line of fire for him. He owed her now. Unfortunately. "C'mon, Alice," he taps the side of her face gently, just trying to wake her back up and not leave another mark. She stirs softly, grumbling something about killing more than either of us. "Stay with me, yeah? You're gonna be okay."

Brody chuckles because it's true. She's done exactly that. Alice has more kills to her name than him or December. And there's something to be said about that. The odds were not in her favor, and yet here she is. Barely breathing and knocking on Death's door, but still.

She's alive and they are not.

"Grab her stuff, will you?" He nods toward her bag at the foot of a nearby tree, ripping the last axe she'd thrown free and tossing it at December's feet. "I've got her." He pushes himself to stand, Alice in his arms, and heads south. Farther than any of them have been.

Because there's nothing left for them here.

[ brody searches, collects sponsorship + item locations ]

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1-6

brad bradford ★ d5b [arx]
Retired Staff

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last seen Nov 4, 2024 18:47:44 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

spare the dying. [ white rabbits, day 4 ] Jul 24, 2022 9:48:20 GMT -5

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Post by brad bradford ★ d5b [arx] on Jul 24, 2022 9:48:20 GMT -5

DECEMBER
whitaker.

He has to use his sword to stay standing. He breathes heavily, chest heaving as his pulse races to catch up with him. He hears Brody drawing nearer—"Hey, hey, hey."—whispering and sheathing his knife. December doesn't have the energy to deal with any of his complaining so he keeps his head bowed, keeps himself from falling over, breathes.

Feels like a century before he hears Brody speak again.

"Grab her stuff, will you?"

He stares at the axe at his feet. There's crusted blood near the hilt from the day before and tree sap on the blade catches bits of moss and dirt.

He wanted to snap at him. He was no one's errand boy, no one's fucking pack animal. He could kill him now. He'd be sure his sword slid straight through his back and out of his big, loud mouth and he'd only start twisting after he'd forced the blade through his bones to the hilt.

And he'd revel in it.

At least that's what he tells himself as he picks up Alice's axe and picks at the dried blood with his thumbnail. It chips away like paint, flecks of a life drifting to the ground like snow. It would melt soon and the memories would fade.

December only starts crying after Brody and Alice have disappeared from view.

[search]
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"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin.
Graphics

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last seen Nov 4, 2024 22:38:15 GMT -5

aspiring beam of light

spare the dying. [ white rabbits, day 4 ] Jul 24, 2022 10:35:32 GMT -5

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Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽‍♂️kaitlin. on Jul 24, 2022 10:35:32 GMT -5

ALICE
ballinger.

The truth is you have never been the one who goes in first.

It takes a harsher toll on you this time, the blood seeping out of your body feeling like it's draining everything out of you. You've spent the last days getting beat bloody, beat blue. If your mother could speak to you now, you don't have to wonder at what she'd say, the cruel words she'd spin together until you doubted yourself to the point of no return.

Brody treats you with such tenderness, and December puts on his mask and hides behind it, but you're too tired to do anything about it, too tired to fight it, too tired to find the light. You're the one who engaged the yetis', and hot shame burns through you upon the realization that you did this to your allies, that you did this to yourself.

You're a girl for the sidelines, a flower bouquet that should have just been left to rot. You had no business starting that fight.

It had felt good, the control. It had been your choice.

But you should let yourself be forgotten, petals wilting in the sunshine on a windowsill. There's little worse than the smell of dead flowers though. Stumbling through the forest, your grip on Brody stays loose, arm draped over his shoulders. Sharp pain at the base of your neck, a knot tightening with every step, it doesn't escape you what an awful job you're doing of taking care of yourself.

A stray thought: I've been dead all along.

It's only a matter of time before they both realize it. You were dead the second your stem got cut.

what are men to rocks and mountains?

a haunted house.