
Interactions: Mainly Edict, a bit with Britney at the end
Flower's and Canvasses
Late Evening
The feeling of cold steel pressed against my head. It's not surprising. It's honestly... a little too familiar. This is your fault. I don't care. Like I said, I'm prepared for this. But as I close my eyes and prepare for the agonizing feeling of having your skull being caved in from a subsonic round fired at point blank range... Nothing.
That was fast. But... wait. I can still think. I'm not dead.
That's when it hits me. Red. So much red. All of my view painted in nothing but red, fire, and regret. I don't want to see this. I never wanted to see any of this. A bit late for that now. Just sit back and enjoy the show.
It all flashes before my eyes in an instant. Moments, people, feelings, all of it. I can almost feel my brain overheating from it all. I wouldn't be surprised if it was dripping out of my nose by now. And yet, I can't look away. Not yet. Not until it's all done.
You know, you two might have more in common than you'd to admit. All that guilt for things that don't involve you. All that drive... for things you know will kill you.
And then. It's over. Whatever link there was is violently cut and I feel my soul getting hit by a truck as it gets sent back into my own body at mach speeds. Fuck. Did they see it? The eye color, it must've shifted. Steady breaths, that's what I need to do right now. Don't make any sudden movements, don't make any changes in your expression. If you do it'll only draw attention to it.
I look around. I see. Thankfully the gun caught everyone's eyes. Great timing.
Hm... looks like the vote's going in our favor.
Each person's response, each person's words, I take it all in, one at a time. Not my intention but, at the very least it gives me an idea of where everyone stands with me. Who I can talk to. Who I can't.
I would've had this all under control if you let me. Not without a few bullets you fucking psycho. It would've been more efficient.
Regardless, this is fi-
Then Drake steps forward, and for the first time in my entire life I watch this man... defend me? Defend's a strong word. Strong enough when compared to what he'd usually do. Maybe he has a voice in his head too. Or maybe I'm just getting lucky today... The meeting's finally getting back on track. Finally.
My eyes settle on Auri as she begins to explain information I already know. Still, so that's the extent of what she has huh? No mention of the cult, or the other ones, not to mention the remnants of that fucking group. Yeah... I glance for a moment towards Eve. It's less than a second as I realize I probably shouldn't but I did it anyway. Small town. Really small...
*chck*
I glance back towards Eve again but what greets me is a flying payload of deadly force coming my way. I reach out a hand, catch it, and then look back over to see where the gun that's suppose to be attached to this thing is but that's when I'm greeted by a different sight.
Grayson. He's walking over here, and he's not even trying to pretend he's changed. And he's trying to pull the same shit he did years ago. A warm feeling. I'm sure that's how it must feel to most of them, but to me it's like feeling rat trying to claw it's way into your brain. A warm rat, but still a rat.
"Well, I mean... Great pitch Kali. You wanna help us now?" Grayson says to me.
He's acting confident. A little too confident. Just like ten years ago. Seems like he's forgotten a few things. Slow, deliberate, steps. He thinks we don't know that playbook. It's a power-play. Textbook. He wants to play this game. He's still trying to get in. It'll be harder than last time. We should teach him a lesson. Not now, he's not vulnerable yet.
Eventually, he gets close, walking up to me with that empty pistol in his hands holding it out like he's trying to feed a stray dog. I will admit, he's certainly always been impressive in the sheer amount of disrespect he can convey through physicality alone.
"You really wanna help these people? Help us? You'll fly back to Quantico, or whatever pit they keep your unnatural ass in, and you'll make up a big fucking story about how you didn't see shit, you didn't hear shit, you didn't find a fucking thing in St. Portwell. Now take your gun and fuck off." Grayson says to me as he drops the gun.
Wordlessly, I catch it, reload the magazine, and stow it away back to where it belongs in the holster hidden inside my jacket.
I swear I'm going to tear that boy's brain apart... Not now, we need an open-
And that's when Britney Williams shows up. It doesn't take his emotional field changing for me to know what's going on. Grayson's face says it all. And that's all I need to strike.
The wall goes down in less than a millisecond. He finally gets his in... but so do I. Grayson's abstraction, it's a familiar one. Easy to take in. Easy to use. Easy to weaponize. He always uses it to smooth things over. That warm fuzzy feeling is his way of making people do what he wants. I'm not here for that right now though. I'm here to send a message.
I stand up, walk towards the man. I can see it all. The Screaming. The shaking hands reaching for a gun that isn't there. The shivering of his spine as his fight or flight instinct kicks into overdrive. That accelerated heart-rate. It's all there for me like an open book. He fancies himself a hunter. A creature of the night stalking through the woods of everyone's subconscious. He's still not used to being hunted. As I get closer, close enough to whisper into his ear that cold dead hand I've sent into his soul slowly starts to squeeze.
"What's wrong Grayson? You're slipping." I whisper to him, not even bothering to look at him as I do so.
"You heard the vote. I'm here to stay. But I'll give you a friendly tip. Everyone else isn't on their radar... but you. I suggest you behave yourself. None of us want trouble here, do you understand?" I whisper to him before putting the walls up again, cutting off the connection instantly.
I don't spend any more time on him. That interaction was enough, I have other things to worry about.
That's when I turn to Britney, walk over to where most of the other people are in the group to blend a bit more with the crowd and say, "I almost thought you wouldn't show up. Still, you seem to be doing well."