untold story [coach+belle vs fridae vs lorraine]

Lorraine turns the volume off for a night.

Just long enough to listen to the radio enough, she doesn't need to talk to Kyler or Reagan to make it through the night, she just needs that memory of her. She can't say her name again, when she pulled that trigger she locked the chest of everything she left behind. Every untied thread wraps around her fingers in the red knots, pulling thick between her knuckles. Steele sits between her fingers, even as she moves from the body.

Her body.

This isn't the first body Lorraine seen in her life. She used to lose kids all the time back home, young girls like herself starting off in the club scenes, things like making it home wasn't even promised then. She can't stop thinking over that question- what does she want from this, really? Besides the money, besides the fame, no matter how much was left between them, she didn't take any of the questions when she died.

Through everything, she's only more confused, more lost ever since Sin and Castor. Only a piece of her volunteered in greedy annihilation and she never wanted to look past that. As selfish as she is with her emotions, not even she herself can afford them, but now she's here alone with nothing but. It isn't much later when the rain starts.

Just a drizzle is enough, it bites at her skin as she hastily grabs the bulk of their supplies. Acid Rain stings at the hazmat suit, tearing through what was already falling apart

[ filler description lol i am so sorry ]
[ running out of time ]

- acid rain
- syren's stuff
- soft moment with the radio listening to her gay music
- anthem time baby
- grim dead lol; "FITZ?["; learns sutton's first name; rip syren;
- sleeps sexily
- wakes up to a sponsor gift from her stylist
- does her make up like a baddie
- cries in the mirror lol wuss
- fixes her make up
- heads west explicitly to avoid running into sin/castor
- glass plant, reflections of herself without syren
- ITS ALL A PARADOX DUD

"Holy shit, you people are still alive?!" Three kids she hadn't seen in five mornings; Coach Deluxe, Silk's district partner, broken knee thanks to your misses. Lorraine takes a bit of pride in it, despite how much he's managed to recover since -- same to his ally. She recognizes them both, allied with a white boy and "...Syd?" Spoken something too soft for this arena.

Lorraine had found herself too preoccupied with the other half of the arena, Kyler and Reagan, what used to be Grim and Syren. Sin and Castor are out there and oh so similarly, Syd, that stupid stupid boy. She hadn't seen him since crawling out of the bloodbath, and it tears at her nerves not to see him here, surprisingly. At this point, she can't tell what's worse, knowing or not.

It isn't until the third person comes into view does she realize the answer; it isn't gentle, like Syren's quick death. She had watched Kane's fight, willfully feigned the idea that she hadn't, but there's no denial when she watches Fridae Drummond collapse to the ground more than paralyzed. There were only bits and pieces that Lorraine knew of the girl, barely realizing that she had spent an entirely different five days here.

That girl with so much fight, there's a horror that comes to Lore's cheeks. Jaw dropping in slight, until she composes herself.

And that wears, of course, when she realizes she's still alive.

Barely, wheezing the last bit of life that's in her as Coach Deluxe takes two steps back. Career boy he is, Icarus himself, four days ago he couldn't walk himself to the bathroom and she's hesitant seeing how he's recovered. Still, she has a gun.

These things come in handy, really, "got it, got it" she cocks it in a facade, trying to catch the moment before Coach and his ally remember she's there. Lorraine clears her throat before taking some of the distance, gun pointed at Coach as if holding him ransom, "okay, party's over folks, this corpse is mine." Let's not get too cocky now, she just has a few questions and seventeen bullets to get her there.

"By the way guys, super cool spear. Big fan," Lore keeps a note not to get close until Coach backs up just a tad more. Scooting him along as she points the revolver, she waits to retrieve her bounty. Fridae Drummond groans her name, she's almost flattered before taking her satchel and tossing it yards to the side of Coach's ally. 

Give them some incentive to let the funeral service begin, she doesn't drop the gun until they budge, a bit of peace as she begins to drag Fridae by the nape. 

Lore tries not to pity her, to not pretend like she's going to die within the hour. A fighter's spirit, sure, but at this point it's not enough to take a blow like that. "Lucky he caught you off guard," she says as she heaves the dying girl's weight. There's almost enough shrapnel to feel safe again, to let the anxiety die down a little. 

Is 'die' the wrong word to use here?

"You know my money would have be on you otherwise."