Event #8 "À mi-chemin" [TAG: Peyton]

[Misha Charisse Quinn]

[OOC: Takes place after Alex and Peyton's thread, "Who am I living for?"] 

Misha loved Andrei, she really did. She loved knowing he was fine, alive, still a goof, not a complete psycho and getting to talk to him. Really. 
But there was just so long her blind, barely self-sufficient best friend could disappear on her without her worrying. 
Approximately 30 seconds, in fact. 

Making sure Andrei was safe and alright, she'd promised not to leave me alone for long and promptly left, in search of her number one idiot. The quest was not easy, made more difficult by her inability to use any form of light to guide herself, and she resulted to resting one hand on a wall and very slowly making her way forward, listening to any suspicious noises, friendly or less-so. 
She had quickly come to the conclusion that there wasn't much else to be investigated on the other side of the service room, so she made her way back to the bathroom. She had almost reached the door when she heard sounds coming from her left. 
In any normal situation, she wouldn't have worried too much and simply assumed it was one of her missing friends. But there were no normal situations down here. Arming herself of her trusty stone, she called out, loud enough to be heard, almost nonchalantly. She was getting used to hell's atmosphere. 

 – I have a rock, a bad attitude and I'm not afraid to use either of them.

[Peyton Cross]

Peyton closed the classroom door and leaned against it, exhaling. She rubbed her temple in pain, as her head throbbed from what was probably lack of food and water. She only had a few snacks in this place and some water once in a while, just to maintain her survival. It definitely wasn’t a healthy scenario.

She was about to make her way elsewhere when she heard footsteps take an abrupt stop. The raven haired froze in fear, her hand hovering over her knife. She didn’t reveal herself to whoever was behind her. As far as she was concerned, her friends were the only people with her…but she could be wrong.

“I have a rock, a bad attitude and I’m not afraid to use either of them.”

At the sound of a familiar voice, Peyton chuckled and emerged from the shadows to confront Misha, who was in a steady position.

“Hate to break it to you but I’ve been hit by rocks before, and it doesn’t hurt as much,” she snickered. “Could work on your footwork though."

[Misha Charisse Quinn]

She lowered her hand instinctively upon hearing Peyton’s voice, a smirk coming to her lips as she listened to her words.

 – Don’t make me test how true that is. – she threatened, still smiling, letting the girl come closer to her. – I’m doing with what I have here.

Truth was, she also had some syringe, but she wasn’t going to go around stabbing people with it. STDs were the last thing they needed right now; not to mention she didn’t know for a certain if what was inside was truly sedatives, or what someone wanted her to believe were sedatives. She wasn’t going to inject anyone with that unless it was her very last resort.

Her eyes wandered in the direction Peyton had come from, as she listened intensively. No sound of more footsteps. And Alex wasn’t their most graceful walkers nowadays.

 – Where do you come from? – she asked, a hint of worry in her voice. – Do you know where Alex is?

[Peyton Cross]

Peyton walked up to her friend as she took notice in how MIsha’s eyes wandered.

“Where did you come from? Do you know where Alex is?” the red head asked.

“Don’t worry Misha, your boyfriend is fine,” Peyton joked, “He and I were talking in the classroom.”

Her smile faded a little bit, but she didn’t look sad. More exhausted. It’s been a long few days, and they were all ready to hope back into the real world. It was just finding a way out that was the problem. Peyton hasn’t told Misha and Andrei about Naya yet...but she almost didn’t want to. Telling Misha would be a lot harder, mostly because Misha had a tough time accepting things. Especially if they revolved around people she cared about. Peyton wasn’t blind in knowing Misha and Naya had become good friends in their time here, Misha passing off Peyton’s earlier worries about the brunette further confirming that. She shook her head and decided to talk about something else.

“How’s Andrei holding up?” the raven haired asked.

[Misha Charisse Quinn]

Misha raised an eyebrow at Peyton’s teasing, but wisely decided not to respond. In her experience, the more vehemently someone denied being in a relationship, the more people concluded their assumptions were right. And she didn’t need that right now. She did let her eyes wander off into the unknown behind Peyton, the only place where that “classroom” could possibly be, and made a mental note of it. This was her next stop.

“How’s Andrei holding up?”

 – Fine enough, I guess, considering everything. Still can’t walk or hold himself up, and a little shaken. Like all of us. – she wasn’t going to pretend it wasn’t her case. Learning that a girl who had always appeared shy and gentle was some kind of twisted serial killer and perverted manipulator had been hard to stomach, but deep down, what truly got to her was to know a friend she trusted in and held in good regards had been taking advantage of teenagers like he had; whether he regretted it in the end or not. She shook her head, and decided to direct her attention towards Peyton again. Hopefully she didn’t have even more news to share. – How… are you doing? – she asked, somewhat clumsily. She knew that Peyton and Emery were extremely close, Alex’ sister being practically the only person Peyton was ever seen with, and she hadn’t missed her best friend and her bonding over what she had assumed was their shared loss. And while she appreciated Emery for what she was, a friendly, animated young woman who always tried to include her (whether Misha wanted it or not), and felt very close to Alex’ family which had always been accepting of her, she knew that deep down, she would never know how Peyton and Alex felt right now. Selfishly, she hoped she never would have to. – Are you… – her hands twisted against her skirt, uneasily. Trying to comfort or even be there for people was NOT something she was good at, and even less with somebody like Peyton, considering how difficult their relationship had been. – … okay?

[Peyton Cross]

“Fine enough, I guess, considering everything. Still can’t walk or hold himself up, and a little shaken. Like all of us,” Misha said.

Peyton nodded and rubbed her arm in the awkward silence. It was no secret the two have had it rough in the unknown time they’ve been there. Being two stubborn heads, they were bound to clash from the moment they met...in fact they did clash, often. Peyton liked Misha however, despite their differences. The redhead had a good heart. More importantly, the raven haired trusted her. In this place the only value thing was trust. At least she was with a group of people she...semi trusted. She knew she could rely on Alex and Misha, but she isn’t sure about Andrei. And from her observations, it didn’t seem like Misha and Alex were quite sure either, and they were far closer to him than she was.

And there comes back that lonely feeling.

“How...are you doing?”

“Huh?” Peyton looked up from the floor to see Misha shifting in her position to ask her...a….heartfelt question. It was the first time Peyton had seen Misha concerned.

“Are you….okay?” Misha said twisting her shirt.

The raven haired breathed loudly and propped herself against the wall.

“Well my best friend is dead, my others are missing, there’s a demon walking around the premises who is murdering people, I’m peachy,” she sighed, realizing she was coming off as rude again. “I’m sorry. I’m just...frustrated. My whole life has been a pit of hell but now….” she paused again, thinking about what to say. What was there to say?

“I just want to get the fuck out of here. I’m tired of living in hell,” Peyton admitted.

[Misha Charisse Quinn]

Peyton seemed either bothered or unimpressed with her questions; maybe she shouldn’t have asked in the first place, they had never been especially close anyway. It probably seemed out of place, and it wasn’t making her feel more at ease. Misha herself was trying very hard not to come off as awkward right now, and she could tell she was failing.
Yet, right after her first reaction, which was indisputably displeased, Peyton immediately apologized for her attitude, which gave Misha some pause. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her do that.
“I’m sorry. I’m just...frustrated. My whole life has been a pit of hell but now….I just want to get the fuck out of here. I’m tired of living in hell.”
She took a moment to observe the girl’s body language, thinking. She could tell it was her turn to speak now, but she honestly wasn’t sure what to say… if there even WAS anything to say. Everyone was feeling so beaten and defeated at this point, having lost pretty much any form of control over their own lives, that no one really had that much to add.

She did have to admit that one of Peyton’s comments made her pretty curious. She didn’t know anything about what Peyton’s life was like before all of this, considering she didn’t even really know/bothered to remember her name, but she couldn’t help but wonder what could qualify as “the pit of hell” once they were actually IN hell.

 – Well… I don’t really know what your life has been like, but… I’ve been wanting nothing but to change mine for years, and I could tell you that I would gladly go back right now. – she gave a vacant look at the darkness around her, not really searching for anything in particular. There wasn’t much to search for. – For as bad as it was, at least the only person I had to worry about was myself… – she sighed. She remembered when thinking about her best friend was something that brought her happiness and relief… not worry about where he was and what horrible things could possibly be done to him. And somehow… speaking to Peyton right now made it worse. The two had been in a similar situation, and she had lost her closest friend. The idea of ever being in her shoes terrified her.

Except… she had been in her shoes. At a smaller level, but… she had.
Her hands started nervously playing with the hem of her skirt all over again.
It was probably best to get that out of the way before she ended up taking it to her grave.
 – I’m… sorry, by the way.

[Peyton Cross]

“Well…I don’t really know what your life has been like, but…I’ve been wanting nothing but to change mine for years, and I could tell you that I would gladly go back right now,” Misha said

Peyton looked down. She had never thought out about what would happen if she actually got back. Just…to go back to the original plan? Avoid her mother until she can finally just run away? That seems almost cowardly now. After everything she’s been through, there was no more running. There couldn’t be. Not after…not after Emery. Emery. That little Songbird. She wanted Peyton to turn Evelyn over to the police so badly. Maybe it was about time Peyton fulfilled that. Her friend spent so many years wanting the best for her, maybe this was her redemption. Maybe this could be Peyton’s way of making it up to Emery, no not just make it up to her. To not have her death be in vain.

I’m gonna do it Songbird…if I get out of here, I’m gonna fulfill your final wish…

“For as bad as it was, at least the only person I had to worry about was myself…”

Peyton scoffed a little bit, “I can relate to that.” She moved her bangs out of her face and pointed to the scar on her forehead, “You see this? My mother broke a wine bottle over my head one night. That’s just one of the many bruises I have. I would never tell anyone because I was afraid she’d come after me and the person I spilled my secret to.”

She pressed her back against the wall again. “And yet somethings are worse than a mother who resents you for your appearance and your…uh….sexual interests.” The raven haired shrugged a little bit, merely accepting the reality.

“I’m….sorry, by the way.”

There was that word again. Surprisingly, it was always the redhead who apologized the most often to Peyton. She gave a soft smile.

“Everyone’s sorry. But the only one that’s at fault is the person who pulled the trigger. Metaphorically that is. I appreciate the sentiment though,” she chuckled.

[Misha Charisse Quinn]

Her eyes followed Peyton’s hand as she revealed to her a mark on her forehead, and then lowered to analyze the look on her face. It was almost strange, for someone who claimed to try to hide her dark past, she seemed to like to show it off a lot. Of course she could blame it on their situation too bad as it was for the woman to even care, but she had a feeling this wasn’t the case back in the entrance hall. And in all honesty, though she could feel she was just trying to be sincere, it made her feel a little… uneasy.
Why did she feel the need to rub it in her face so much?
As she continued talking, Misha’s arms wrapped around her own figure and gently stroke her own skin to bring some warmth, holding herself as if to shield herself against her inner turmoil. Peyton was opening up, she couldn’t exactly go and say… that.

She quirked an eyebrow as Peyton’s mothers “reasons” were revealed; she couldn’t really fathom was her problem with her daughter’s appearance was, unless she reminded her too much of someone she’d wish to forget (all of the possible explanations for this that she could think of were either sad or disturbing), but she was a little surprised to hear Peyton’s sexuality come into play. She’d never really bothered to question anyone’s preferences and it was interesting to see it mentioned now.

And yet, as Peyton shrugged off her apology, Misha pursed her lips. She was right, in a way… but she wasn’t getting it.

 – It’s not that. – she sighed. She wished she didn’t have to spell it out for her, even less when it felt like it had all happened forever ago, though it couldn’t have been more than a few days. – It’s just… I knew you had the bad card. At the tea party. I just… I don’t know, I knew it. And I wanted to team up with Jamie because of this, but… I wasn’t fast enough. Everything happened so quickly, and I just… didn’t.

She sighed once more. Even after everything that had happened, even after choosing to keep her head high and move on, this event was such a weight on her young shoulders.

 – I know I didn’t kill her. I get it. You didn’t either. And I know someone was going to die no matter what. But I just feel like I could have done something. Somehow. And I didn’t. And I’m sorry.

Her eyes dropped to the floor, as her arms held her tighter. She wasn't good with apologies. Or heartfelt talks. Or anything that required her to communicate, really. But it was one of the things they still had down here. She had to make the most of it.

Sighing, apprehending Peyton's response, her eyes moved back in the direction of the classroom, hoping for Alex to be fine, trying to discern anything new in the darkness.

[OOC: Misha made a perception check]

[Peyton Cross]

“It’s not that.”

Peyton looked up, trying to decipher what Misha meant by those words. In this place, there was lots to be sorry for. It seemed to go around. Her, Alex, Misha, Chris, people can say sorry for decades. But words are just that to Peyton. Words. Always have been. Empty promises, broken trusts, hurt feelings. Words meant nothing in the end if actions spoke something else entirely. And in here? Being sorry for a death? No, no one here had to apologize for that. It wasn’t the students' fault that people were being slaughtered left and right. Besides, sorry didn’t cut it. Anyone could say they were sorry.

Even though Peyton had a secret comfort towards the word, it still left her feeling uneasy.

“It’s just…I knew you had the bad card. At the tea party.”

Peyton raised her head, a little slowly, staring right into Misha’s copper eyes. Her expression filled with shock and almost a little horror, as if the memory kept rushing back to her, flashing before her very eyes.

“I just…I don’t know, I knew it. And I wanted to team up with Jamie because of this, but…I wasn’t fast enough. Everything happened so quickly, and I just…didn’t,” Misha sighed. “I know I didn’t kill her. I get it. You didn’t either. And I know someone was going to die no matter what. But I just feel like I could have done something. Somehow. And I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

Peyton’s head lowered a bit, and then she turned her back to Misha. “You weren’t the one with the X card though. I wanted to…to scream at her. I wanted to say something so badly. Just give a hint. Wink or nod but I was…frozen. I couldn’t move. You know at that point, I thought Emery had betrayed my trust and Naya was acting…strange. I thought you and Max were all I had. So I just…waited it out. What a fool I was…”

She turned back around, to see Misha peering into the classroom, obviously trying to see if Alex was still inside the classroom. Peyton cracked a small smile.

“Go on,” she nodded her head towards the direction of the classroom door. “He needs you more than he needs me."

[Misha Charisse Quinn]

Misha shook her head. Despite her apparent horror at just having the events recalled to her, despite how obvious her pain still was, she was still trying to reassure her, using exactly the words she’d expected to hear her say. Because she had come to terms with the fact that no matter what she did, someone would have died, or so she told herself when she judged her own inadequacy.
But it didn’t change anything. Jamie was still dead, and she had still done nothing.
It seemed like Peyton felt the same; and yet, one sentence in particular had caught her attention.
“I thought you and Max were all I had.”
She had guessed, from her body language, the way she seemed to snub people and even her, that something was off, like she wanted to avoid others even more than possible. It could have been to protect herself, like Misha had, yet… it just felt different. Like she wasn’t protecting her own safety, but others’.
Did this mean, then… that she had been trying to protect her particularly? That she had purposefully evaded her to stop her from getting hurt?

And then Jamie got hurt instead.

She closed her eyes for a second, holding herself even tighter. She wasn’t going to get anywhere thinking like that; even if it was true. She couldn’t start questioning Peyton’s actions now, why she had chosen to save her and not someone else. When all was said and done, there was nothing they could do to bring their friend back.
“Go on.” Peyton’s voice diverted her attention back to her person, her eyes leaving their vain search through the dark. The woman offered her a kind, genuine smile, gesturing for her to “follow her heart”, for a lack of better words, and go see how Alex was doing. “He needs you more than he needs me."
The redhead pursed her lips. Honestly, she didn’t know what Alex needed. She’d always thought she’d know, despite how little he liked to speak about his problems; but now, with everything that had happened… Amanda, Naya, Andrei, the loss of his sister… and his disability… none of this were things she could handle. She didn’t know how to cheer someone up after the death of a family member, and she sure as hell had no idea what being blind was like. There was nothing she could do to help.
She still needed to try.
And yet…

Her arms slowly let go of her form, resting slowly at her side, her eyes meeting Peyton in a questioning gaze.

 – … and what do you need?

[Administrator]

Dice result: 1D10 => 7
Success; you found an item!

---

When Misha scanned the room with her eagle vision hoping to find anything of use - she was lucky enough to notice a wallet laying down on the ground nearby one of the stalls. Probably one of the students has accidentally dropped the finding.

Inside - besides about 73$ in cash, useless at the moment - she could find a half-empty blister of painkillers! Nice!

Item: a blister of painkillers (sanity +1)

[Peyton Cross]

Peyton noticed Misha look up at her, an expression reading of concern.

“And what do you need?”

Peyton was taken aback a little bit. She hadn’t thought about what she needed for the longest time. It seemed obvious at first; find a way out and don’t look back. Yet maybe she needed a little more than just a way out. Perhaps she needed to start making up for what she felt were her mistakes, and put her mind to rest. Starting with....

Peyton looked at the service room door, and then back to Misha. She smiled.

“I think I need to start making up for...for my own sins.”

As she walked towards the service room, she patted Misha on the shoulder and said, “Go get him, tiger.”

She gave her redhead friend one last look and walked down the hall.

[Misha Charisse Quinn]

“I think I need to start making up for...for my own sins.”
Misha raised an eyebrow. That was an awful lot of thinking for such a… vague answer. Befuddled, she followed her eyes all the way to the service room. Did she mean… Andrei? Because of how ready she had been to assume he was…?
She looked back at the woman, in thought. It wasn’t like Andrei was AWARE of what Peyton had said about him, but… it was probably for the best not to leave him alone for long. Even less with the conversation they’d just had.

Already making her way forward, the dark-haired woman patted her on the shoulder as their paths crossed.

“Go get him, tiger.”
Misha smiled playfully. She wasn’t sure why Peyton was so set on her going to Alex… or why she was making all of those allusions either, but she wasn’t going to pass on her opportunity to finally check on her best friend. Maybe she was just as worried about him as she was.

 – Same to you, I guess. – she teased. The two shared one last look before parting ways, each in search of a different man.

As she walked, she caught sight of a small object on the ground; though she thought it to be a rock at first, its shape was particular enough for her to give it a proper inspection. What she found was a wallet, with a small amount of cash which she could see no use for in her situation; however, the blister of painkillers slid inside seemed of much better use. Everything gave her reasons to smash her head on walls down here, and that would give her bigger headaches in no time. She just hoped it was actually medicine and not something more worrisome.

Deciding to keep it for now and fret about its effects later, she put it in her pocket to join her slowly growing stack of drugs.

~ END OF THREAD ~