|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 29, 2012 5:56:34 GMT -5
*I frown, confused by her reaction. Did I say something wrong? Or maybe she just doesn't want to talk any more. I get to my feet, stooping to pick up the notebook from the corner and tossing it back onto the canvas next to Red* I'll leave, then. I'll be just outside.
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Jan 30, 2012 2:15:22 GMT -5
*I frown at Max, not believing he's just going to run away like that. The promise of one day meeting up with Max again is what has kept me going all this time. If he can't be there... I hug myself as tight as I can. If he can't be there I will survive somehow. Maybe I'll be a killjoy. I mean, they won't really understand what I've been through, in some respects I'll always be alone. But I can handle that... at least I hope I can*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 30, 2012 13:59:12 GMT -5
*I hesitate, unsure. Curled up the way she is, Red doesn't look angry so much as... vulnerable, almost. Something /is/ wrong though, and for the life of me I can't figure out what it is. I run the conversation with Red over in my mind, but it doesn't help. Maybe I should apologize for something... And in any case, I realize how nonsensical it was for me to offer to leave. She can't walk on her own, and she can't call for anyone to come. I shift my weight, feeling out of my depth, and eventually sit back down. She doesn't look at me. Maybe if I just ask, she'll explain.* Tell me what's wrong?
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Jan 30, 2012 14:19:09 GMT -5
*I look surreptitiously at Max a bit surprised he didn't leave. I look at him for a minute, judging whether or not he serious about this, whether he really wants to know or not. I pick up the notbook, thinking. I'm not even sure how to put my own feelings and thoughts together in my head, much less on the page. I end up writing a question instead: 'How do you deal with it, being alone all the time?'
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 30, 2012 22:49:57 GMT -5
*I'm not sure what her question has to do with mine, but at least she's writing again. I think for a moment before answering* Before Better Living, I was with others. After, I couldn't remember any different. And then when I /did/ remember, it had been so long that it didn't seem to matter any more. I just don't think about it.
*I don't know if that's what she wants to hear, but it's the best way I can think to phrase it. It feels strange to put things like that into words.*
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Jan 30, 2012 23:12:23 GMT -5
*I'm perking up a bit now, thinking. I write: 'So when you were a killjoy you were with others? What happened to them? Would you see them again now, if you could?
*I carefully shift in where I am sitting so that I am facing Max more. A pain goes through my leg by I try not to show it. I want to talk with Max for as long as he is tolerant of me*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 30, 2012 23:17:51 GMT -5
*Of course she wants to know about that... My first impulse is to answer evasively, but when I think about it, there's really no reason. It makes no difference either way, and if I'm not hiding my face any more I suppose there's no point in hiding my past.* Yes, I was with other killjoys. A lot of them died, and I don't know where the rest are. There are none still living that I would want to see. They'd ask too many questions.
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Jan 30, 2012 23:25:33 GMT -5
*I feel my face blush a little: 'Sorry, I'll quit asking them myself. You can always tell me to stop, Max'
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 30, 2012 23:31:53 GMT -5
*I'm a bit confused by her reaction, but then realize she thought I was comparing the killjoys to her. I don't know why. Red and the killjoys are two completely different things. I shake my head* I don't mind your questions. Not right now, anyway.
*I pause, not sure how much else to add. Honestly, right now I think I'd answer anything she asked. Just the fact that she's sitting here holding a pen seems unbelievable.*
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Jan 30, 2012 23:43:47 GMT -5
*Max's response makes me smile a bit. I write: 'Max, you are the only person who gets where I'm coming from. I mean, you're the closest to family I've ever had. The killjoys... I can't trust them yet... I don't know why. I know it's selfish, but I wouldn't know what to do if you died. I'd be so lonely, see?'
*I stare at the page of a second, surprised by how much I wrote at once, but it's all true. I can't change that*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 31, 2012 0:04:36 GMT -5
*I read her message through, and then slower a second time. I suppose that explains why she got angry when I refused to consider not killing Wilson.* You can't trust them because you've been trained for years not to. It's understandable. And you're the closest to family I have anymore either, if that means anything. *I pause, then sigh* I won't go after Wilson. If I get the chance to kill him I'll take it, but I won't actively hunt him.
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Jan 31, 2012 0:17:17 GMT -5
*I openly smile that time. I have family, family, for the first time I can remember* Thank you *I write quickly* 'Once I'm stronger we'll go whever you want. Not BLI, not Killjoys... it's an odd place to be. What do 15 year olds normally do?'
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 31, 2012 0:25:27 GMT -5
*I shrug. How should I know what fifteen-year-olds do?* That depends. In the city, you'd be going to school. As a killjoy, you'd be doing what the rest of the killjoys do. You're fifteen. What do /you/ want to do?
|
|
|
|
Post by redhavoc on Jan 31, 2012 0:29:49 GMT -5
*I think hard, my first answer being just a giant question mark. Finally I write: 'I want to figure out what I've been missing, what there is to know besides battle tactics, how to put weapons together, and conditioning. I want to learn everything!'
*I stare at the words for a second, not sure if they really mean anything, but it's better than my first answer*
|
|
|
|
Post by Max Griffiths on Jan 31, 2012 0:34:46 GMT -5
I'm not sure how much I can help you with that. *In actuality, I don't have much interest in anything other than survival right now, but I don't say so.* But you'll learn things if we travel the Zones. Which we will, one way or the other. You know as well as I do how often safehouses get raided.
|
|
Yes, I'm still running - sort of. But it is lonely out here. Haven't seen anyone else for a while.
//