unyiielding

yasmin - doll parts

"she's going to fuckin' freeze to death." without a second thought, marnie is taking off her jacket to cover the woman. luckily the hunting crew aren't too far away from the cabin. it doesn't raise concerns for marnie that britney has been missing for over a year and has shown back up seemingly out of thin air — not yet, at least. her brain is completely focused on one task: keeping britney alive. "we need to get her back to the cabin and start a fire."

britney had become an easy point of comparison around camp. anytime the survivors were feeling sorry for themselves, one would remind the rest with a pointed, "at least we're alive." britney, they had thought, wasn't so lucky. so, when she suddenly stumbles into his field of view, takoda doesn't trust his vision. he only reacts after marnie's call to action verifies that he's indeed not having a nervous breakdown. his expression is as unsteady as his footwork — tripping over his own feet as he hastily rises, his jaw as hardened as his gaze. "yeah, yeah," he agrees though his mind has barely processed a single word. he takes off his beanie and puts it on britney's head, not directly addressing her yet. how is he supposed to act around someone whose death he had already made peace with? her apparent catatonic state made the reunion harder to gauge. if at any point she started spewing blood like the exorcist, he wouldn't flinch. where had she been all this time? how had she stayed alive on her own? was she alone? "i'm gonna pick you up now, okay?" he hopes warning her first will make it less startling — they need to get her warmed up stat — but her lack of response or apparent understanding makes him pause briefly. "okay." he lifts her into his arms and begins to run as fast as his feet will allow him to without making them both faceplant into the frozen ground. upon reaching the cabin, he swings the door open and gently places her by the fireplace. "marn!" he calls frantically, holding the door open behind him. she's the brains of this operation. he's only capable of following directions at the moment.

hattie tilted her head to the side, dropping the small statue she’d just used as a weapon onto the carpeted floor. “gee, i hope so. son of a bitch made me break a nail.”

"what a waste. he was cute." her pity was seeped in sarcasm. forgive her for feeling a little hostile towards the guy who had just lunged at them. the night had gone completely wrong. all the duo had on their agenda for the evening was a little digital-age pickpocketing. one would distract him by asking for a tour of the car dealership after hours and the other would sneak into his office to wire money out of the account. then, all they'd have to do is make up some excuse (or sneak out of the bathroom window in lieu of one). when he discovered one of the girls on his computer and took a look at the screen... well, his blood on the carpet told the rest of that story. michie stepped over his body, her heels creating hollow thunks, to finish what they started. a few mouse clicks later and the brunette's head was in her hands. "that asshole must've been cooking the books. there's barely a few grand in here."

"see i thought about it, but do you know how hard it is to find stuff like that on tape these days?" because of course, his mustang doesn't even have a cd player. it's as old as he is. "that's probably why the books don't work either. they aren't things i'm really interested in." he shrugs a little, finally swallowing and shaking his head. "don't think it's very wise to pull over and power nap in my kinda car, though. especially when i end up on backroads more often than not in the boonies." the last thing he needs is not to be carjacked, but to deal with some kind of big animal taking him out when he inevitably has to piss when he wakes up. that's more embarrassing to admit to even think about though.

"i know what you mean. places like this," she lowers her voice slightly as she checks over her shoulder to make sure the locals aren't listening, "freak me out. i don't know. i always have this feeling that like, someone's crouched in the bushes or hiding behind my shower curtain, you know? it's too quiet. cities feels safer somehow. lots of witnesses." immediately, shame washes over her after her overshare. amira had fallen in the comfortable habit of keeping to herself. vulnerability left her feeling too exposed; too seen. maybe it's being trapped indoors that's making her so chatty. maybe it's the lack of connection during her travels. her gaze falls to the floor tiles and she takes a cautious sip of her scolding drink. she's supposed to be helping. the brunette is a fixer through and through. she's not going to let this go until she at least feels useful. "and what are you interested in? if you can figure that out, i bet you'll nine, ten, never sleep again." her head sways as she mimics the rhyme from nightmare on elm street. her taste in movies varies anywhere from gory slashers to black-and-white musicals to obscure arthouse films, so it was no shock she managed to sneak that one in there.