Jaime Elizabeth Davies (finder) wrote in reality_dome, @ 2014-02-10 20:24:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | doug cooper, jaime davies, michael archer |
In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle
Characters: Jaime, Doug, Mike
When: Monday evening
Location: near the outskirts of the jungle (but inside the treeline) in the Cabin 6-7-12 direction
Warnings/Rating: Her mouth. Tears.
Summary: Jaime hallucinates some shit. Thanks, butterfly. Then gets disoriented. Thanks, poison tree.
Status: Complete
Nearly everything about the day so far was unsettling. The terrain hadn't changed, which was a first. The producers had dropped a blatant threat in the network, also a first. She guessed they were drifting toward the two month mark, so she guessed they'd all had time to settle in and things were taking a more consistently serious bent, but she didn't like it. She wondered a little if the threat had been aimed at Sin specifically, or if there were others they were trying to coerce into sharing. She wondered, too, if it would count if she shared. Probably not, and she didn't want to get on Sin's bad side. She liked the other woman well enough, but she also strongly suspected that her bad side wasn't a side she ever wanted to see. After dinner, she'd left Mike to practicing his ability because she needed a little alone time to try to process everything. To consider what she wanted to do -- if she wanted to try to encourage Sin to admit to what she could do, or if she wanted to just leave it well enough alone. It wasn't her business, really, either way, but she wasn't sure she wanted to see what sort of information the producers had to distribute. She knew she wouldn't want her story -- or Mike's -- broadcast to the group at large. For a brief moment, she was bitterly jealous of people like April who didn't have darker circumstances holding them here. What could they really say about the blonde? Not that it was relevant; April was open about her power. Shaking her head to try to push the thoughts away, Jaime drifted along the jungle path. She didn't plan to go in far, but she wanted to see if it really was as same as it seemed. So far it was -- the path had the same curves, the same ruts, the same ferns lining it. She could hear what she assumed were the same falls, and she could see the same flower bush with the butterflies dancing around it. With her arms crossed lightly over her chest, resting on the fabric of her tanktop, Jaime watched the trio of brightly colored insects. The largest of the set fluttered in her direction, and she smiled a little as she watched it. When it swung too close to her head, she laughed quietly and tilted her head away, assuming the motion would deter it. When the wings were obscuring her vision, Jaime felt the lash of something sharp and hot across her cheek. "Ouch," she muttered as she swatted the butterfly away. What the actual fuck was that? Butterflies bit? Oh. Maybe that was the grand change this week. The suspicious absence of bugs last week almost made sense now. Lifting a hand to her cheek, she swiped her fingers across the lash. Her fingertips were wet with blood, and her cheek was throbbing. Christ. Were they poison butterflies? Wouldn't that just beat all? "Fuckers," she muttered as she turned around, intending to head back to her cabin. Only, there was someone in the path. Her head tilted to one side, her heart racing. "Dad?" Was her dad really here? With a little smile, Jaime started toward him. "Dad, hey. What're you doing here?" "I killed your mother." Jaime stopped in her tracks, her smile faltering. "What?" That didn't make sense. Her parents loved each other. She had had a falling out with her mom, sure, but she didn't want her dead. Her father still loved her. He wouldn't kill her. He wouldn't. "Well, it was an accident. That's how it happens, right? Your boyfriend accidentally killed a kid. You accidentally killed Bob. I think here, someone's going to accidentally kill you. Like they accidentally killed Cole. "Or maybe," Richard continued as he stepped forward. "They'll accidentally kill Mike. Wouldn't that be justice? Some hunter comes along, pops him, buries him, and no one ever knows what happened." Jaime reached out toward something for support, her nails scrabbling against a tree. It could happen, couldn't it? Mike could die here. They could both die here. "No," she said quietly. "It's not ... don't say that. It was an accident." "Sure," Richard replied. "It's always an accident. No one ever means it. You didn't mean to kill Bob." "I didn't!" She screamed at him. "I didn't. I didn't want him to die I just wanted to keep him. I wanted ... I thought ..." Jaime inhaled, struggling against the tears. "I never thought it would hurt him." "Yeah," Richard replied thoughtfully. "You probably didn't. But you're selfish, Jaime. You always have been. You killed him through your selfishness, and you're going to drive everyone away. If you die here, no one's going to care. Not your boyfriend, not your mom. Definitely not me." Jaime felt something sharp lance her palm, and she curled her hand into a fist to try to stem the flow of blood. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Her father would never say those things. Her father didn't even know about Mike. Despite her rational mind trying to tell her it couldn't possibly be happening, Jaime couldn't help but listen as her father continued to berate her, to lie to her -- because they had to be lies because that couldn't be her father. Stumbling away, Jaime tripped over an upraised root. She cried out as she hit the jungle floor, and she crawled along the path. The cut on her palm was caked with dirt, and at some point she'd started screaming 'go away' over and over as she made her way toward what she thought was the cabins, but was actually an offshoot of the initial path that led her at an angle away from the cabins. Twice she tried to get up only to find she was too dizzy to manage. So she resorted to crawling, to try to put some distance between herself and that madness. |