[ Dorothy is... in the saloon, surprise, surprise. She's got her crutches propped against the table and is nursing a scotch, seemingly thinking about nothing in particular.
Which is never really true with her, but still. Join her? ]
And if I can't compete, I'll likely be removed. And if there's no one left, those who died in the Faction won't be brought back.
[ And that will be that. ]
I'd like to hope no one will try to target the Leaders, but hope in a situation like this is never really enough. I suppose with my leg, I could present enough of a target?
[ Also hm, there seems to be a weird bubble floating their way. ]
[ It's a quiet, snow-filled night, judging by the view out of the windows in the train. The compartment itself only holds two people-- the dark-haired young woman in glasses that Rufus will probably recognize from last week and, sitting across from her, Dorothy (tight-lipped, pointing a gun at her companion, eyes narrowed).
The gun is held by a steady hand, even as Dorothy's lips move soundlessly for a second, a clear moment of indecision flashing in her eyes.
And then the girl speaks, wistfully.
"Dorothy. You were always like the wind. So light and free."
She reaches into her coat and Dorothy warningly jerks the gun up, a pleading tone entering her voice.
"Stop it, Prefect. I don't want to shoot a friend."
The girl pauses, then smiles warmly. "Thank you." As she continues to speak, she slips a gun out of her coat. Dorothy stiffens, tense, but Prefect doesn't point the gun at her. "Because you were kind enough to call me your friend, I'll give you a Christmas present."
The gun moves up, closer to her temple. "A free pass, to get you out of shooting your friend."
"Don't do this, Prefect!"
The desperation is palpable in Dorothy's voice now as tears form in her eyes; she didn't want this. She didn't want any of this, she should have tried harder to reach out to her, she should have knocked the gun away, she should have known that things weren't fine between them, had she missed a sign, any kind of sign that Prefect had been begging for help this whole time?
Prefect smiles with equally teary eyes and presses the barrel of the gun to her head.
She pulls the trigger and then, as Dorothy fruitlessly reaches out, a shot rings out, blood spills down her face and her body topples over to the side.
And then, abruptly, the memory is gone and Dorothy sits there in stunned silence, only remembering to draw in a shaky breath after a few seconds. ]
[The guilt is palpable in the air. Memories may be fleeting, but emotions are eternal. Emotions tied to the death of a loved one before one's eyes, he knows, are especially potent.
He recalls Prefect from last week. It dawns on him now that she must've been the reason for the first lesson when he attempted to hang himself. Dorothy's panic back then suddenly makes that much more sense: she is still grieving.
The silence is drawn out by Dorothy and Rufus both as the latter processes the heavy memory. Then he straightens.]
Have you found your teammates?
[It's debatable how much time is enough to truly process something like that for the memory's owner. They don't have the luxury of anything longer than this, though. Even if she hasn't shared her Leader with anyone else, it doesn't mean she hasn't learned the Leaders of others.]
[ It's really not enough time. Prefect's death is still a very fresh memory for her, one that isn't entirely faded from Dorothy's mind, despite this place's valiant attempt to pry it from her.
But she makes a visible effort to pull herself together, suddenly pale and troubled as she is. Rufus' curtness may drive others back, but honestly, it's a blessing right now because it doesn't let her fall into the turmoil of her own thoughts.
Still, her eyes are a little dark when she looks up at him again, her voice quieter. ]
He orders a glass of water and takes a sip while she pulls herself together, filling the silence with equally quiet action. Noise would just be an unnecessary distraction. After the third sip, their eyes meet.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Week 4, Monday
Which is never really true with her, but still. Join her? ]
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I have a question for you.
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Go ahead.
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[ So, uh. ]
But I believe the icon flashes when your Leader remembers something.
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I've also heard that it means a member of the team removed a participant.
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... Well, it would explain why your Faction seems to constantly be placing first.
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[ Dorothy pauses, straightening in her seat. She looks thoughtful for a minute, before she sighs. ]
I'm fairly certain you should be set for passing the nova threshold, at least. It's my Faction I'm worried about, especially with that rule.
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My Leader more or less confirmed it, which puts them in a great deal of danger. And they weren't able to say what that meant for those of us left.
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Without a Leader, you will no longer be able to compete.
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[ And that will be that. ]
I'd like to hope no one will try to target the Leaders, but hope in a situation like this is never really enough. I suppose with my leg, I could present enough of a target?
[ Also hm, there seems to be a weird bubble floating their way. ]
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How many participants know about your Leader?
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[ Dorothy. ]
Though there's someone I'll also need to speak to about it.
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Before he can even think to ask, the bubble pops against his shoulder from behind.]
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The gun is held by a steady hand, even as Dorothy's lips move soundlessly for a second, a clear moment of indecision flashing in her eyes.
And then the girl speaks, wistfully.
"Dorothy. You were always like the wind. So light and free."
She reaches into her coat and Dorothy warningly jerks the gun up, a pleading tone entering her voice.
"Stop it, Prefect. I don't want to shoot a friend."
The girl pauses, then smiles warmly. "Thank you." As she continues to speak, she slips a gun out of her coat. Dorothy stiffens, tense, but Prefect doesn't point the gun at her. "Because you were kind enough to call me your friend, I'll give you a Christmas present."
The gun moves up, closer to her temple. "A free pass, to get you out of shooting your friend."
"Don't do this, Prefect!"
The desperation is palpable in Dorothy's voice now as tears form in her eyes; she didn't want this. She didn't want any of this, she should have tried harder to reach out to her, she should have knocked the gun away, she should have known that things weren't fine between them, had she missed a sign, any kind of sign that Prefect had been begging for help this whole time?
Prefect smiles with equally teary eyes and presses the barrel of the gun to her head.
"Goodbye, Dorothy."
She pulls the trigger and then, as Dorothy fruitlessly reaches out, a shot rings out, blood spills down her face and her body topples over to the side.
And then, abruptly, the memory is gone and Dorothy sits there in stunned silence, only remembering to draw in a shaky breath after a few seconds. ]
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He recalls Prefect from last week. It dawns on him now that she must've been the reason for the first lesson when he attempted to hang himself. Dorothy's panic back then suddenly makes that much more sense: she is still grieving.
The silence is drawn out by Dorothy and Rufus both as the latter processes the heavy memory. Then he straightens.]
Have you found your teammates?
[It's debatable how much time is enough to truly process something like that for the memory's owner. They don't have the luxury of anything longer than this, though. Even if she hasn't shared her Leader with anyone else, it doesn't mean she hasn't learned the Leaders of others.]
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But she makes a visible effort to pull herself together, suddenly pale and troubled as she is. Rufus' curtness may drive others back, but honestly, it's a blessing right now because it doesn't let her fall into the turmoil of her own thoughts.
Still, her eyes are a little dark when she looks up at him again, her voice quieter. ]
Not all of them. But enough.
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He orders a glass of water and takes a sip while she pulls herself together, filling the silence with equally quiet action. Noise would just be an unnecessary distraction. After the third sip, their eyes meet.]
Has Fox recovered another memory yet?
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No, not yet. They only asked that I not be reckless.
[ Can't imagine why, says the young lady with the broken leg. ]
... Have you done that new rule yet?
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No; however, I plan to.
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I didn't think you'd avoid it, but I'm glad.
[ It means Rufus has friends. She's so proud of him. ]
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Following the rules benefits the Realm. There's no reason not to do it.
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Considering how some people tried to avoid a rule the last time it made them uncomfortable, I would say pride or discomfort might be an issue.
Though not for you. [ In this case. ]
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