[hearing that triggers his own anxious reflexes; he's standing and pointing his revolver into the fog with a near-desperate air before he even has the chance to set his kindling down properly, which echoes loud and stark in the cool fog. it occurs to him a few seconds later that he actually recognizes the voice that had called out.]
...Garry? [it's difficult to see through the ever-present fog, but after a few days of having to deal with it, he's gotten a little more used to identifying people by the shape of their outlines alone. he's a little more hesitant in doing so this time, but he lowers his revolver, stepping away from the wood he had been preparing to hack into smaller pieces.]
[there's only a small amount of relief when the voice answers back; his paranoia is spiked far too high for him to be fully appreciative of the fact that he's run into a friend. he takes several steps forward anyway though, putting himself at a distance where he can start making out Garry's features instead of just a hazy shape.]
Most people have been staying inside lately, I think... It's not like there's much point in foraging. [there's a wry, almost bitter note in his voice at that. failure to provide something so simple, even if it's the fault of the town, makes him feel disgusted with himself.]
the donuts cancel out the movement, it's like jogging to a mcdonalds!!
[his brow furrows momentarily in sympathy. he wishes he had food to offer; being a provider and protector is who he is and being unable to fulfill something basic as food is eating away at him.
but the paranoia pushes that away after a few seconds, leaving him reeling at Garry's words.]
Do you think that's what happened? [he sounds breathless, taking a step closer.] It could have been anyone, but it isn't so far-fetched, is it? If they've already taken things that belong to others... [not safe anywhere, indeed.]
Of course! What else could have happened? It all makes so much sense to me now, I -- I don't know why I never noticed it before. [ looking distressed, he runs a hand through his hair, turning away from the other man to pace to the side uneasily, muttering under his breath: ] It's all true...
But what do you mean, they've already taken things?
[he watches Garry carefully, crossing his arms over his chest. on him, the gesture doesn't look arrogant so much as self-containing; something to keep him on one side and everything that threatens him on the other.]
You've noticed, haven't you? Everyone is missing something except for them. [there's a bite of vitriol with "them", but not quite as much emphasis as some of his comrades had used.] Even benign things like healing... If they would take something like that, food wouldn't be a stretch.
[he's keeping an even more attentive eye on Garry now, though. does that mean his ability hadn't been intrinsic enough to notice when it left, or—?]
dubious shaking head and walking into the distance
[ things like healing? That was a power. Garry shakes his head rapidly, wringing his hands. He's not thinking clearly enough to make the connection that Gilbert probably will at this point; there's too much noise in his head. ]
No, no, no, isn't that good? They're just like the other monsters around here, I mean, so it's safer this way, but -- they must be taking the food to try and... starve us off, maybe? I don't know. We need to get rid of them, Gilbert, or we're going to be trapped here and die! S-somehow. Somehow...
[it definitely dawns on him, even though his own thoughts are a hardly-organized buzzing mess.
like the other monsters — to get rid of them... a sharp and vehement anger momentarily overwhelms his anxious paranoia. it isn't for himself, though; no, in spite of the rising suspicion against others of his own "kind", his thoughts still turn to Oz first. these people would label him a monster (something that hits particularly close to home) and hunt him down. these people were trying to kill him.]
What do you think you're doing?! [in the same breath, he's raised his revolver again.] Leaving everyone helpless and starved and killing off the rest— Has that been your plan? Is that why you've all been spending these past few days gloating instead of trying to help?!
I-I didn't do -- [ he lets out a strangled squeal at the gun suddenly being pointed at him, holding up his arms in front of himself (as if they'd do anything to stop a revolver bullet.) For a moment, he has a reaction of pure animal panic and wants to just dart in the other direction and not look back, but...
This reaction -- he was one of them. He was a monster. ]
Gilbert... You're one of them? H-how... How could you act like you did? You acted like you were my friend!! [ suddenly, his voice gains an accusatory tone, shaky though it is. ] You're just like Mary...!
[he has no idea who Mary might be, but he instantly feels sympathy toward her anyway. if he was just like her, Garry had no doubt tricked her, too.
there's a fierceness in his expression that doesn't entirely match up with the way his firing arm trembles just slightly.]
If anyone here is acting, it's you! I trusted you when I needed help, I believed you when you said that you would look for Oz, and now this? [and to think he had been stupid enough to let his guard down so far. coldness pricks at his spine and he shakes his head once, trying to clear it.] ...If anything happens to him in this mess because of you and yours, I won't forgive you. I will never forgive you.
[ he should definitely run. He's going to get shot at. But now he feels angry. Being accused like this - like he'd done something wrong! He hadn't been anything but a victim this entire time. ]
Don't be ridiculous! You're the ones who started this! Ib and I would be safe back home if not for you! [ he points at him, accusing -the growling tone in his voice is practically unheard of for Garry. He swallows heavily. ] And if Oz is a monster, too, he's as much at fault as the rest of you!!
You— [and there, that is all the confirmation that his delusional fears need to consume him. placing the blame on his shoulders is one thing; even if Garry is wrong, that's something he can handle. who cares what one person says against him anyway, especially if that person is enough of a coward to strip powers away from others just for the sake of their own pride?
but he can't process anything beyond that. "at fault" means "to be persecuted". in this starved state, Oz wouldn't be able to fend off a group of attackers — shouldn't have to. blind anger shoots through him, and both that and his insurmountable paranoia work in Garry's advantage this time. normally, he's one of the best shots in all of Pandora, second only to his brother. today, his hands are shaking horribly. there's something in him still that hasn't been fully drowned by illusion, something that says no, not an enemy, not an enemy, but it isn't enough.
it's partially out of reflex and partially out of the desire to defend that he pulls the trigger, but he's shaken so badly that it's nowhere near fatal. at best the bullet might graze his shoulder, puncturing at worst.]
[ the shot rings out, and he immediately panics. Should have run back then, he knew it; whatever dregs of his consciousness convinced him to stay here and talk to Gilbert had been wrong, wrong, wrong, and the sharp, shooting pain in his shoulder convinces him as much. This man's a dangerous monster as much as any of the other shadows lurking in the fog.
He screams at the sudden burn of the injury. That's all it takes for him to leave whatever else he was thinking of behind. He bolts. There was nothing else he wanted to say - he doesn't even consider it. He stumbles back from the impact, and the momentum goes straight into a run, even with one hand gripping the wound; he's only going on animal instinct now, the fog in his brain, and he doesn't look back.
He'll starve if he has to. He can't go out there again. ]
[he almost moves to shoot at Garry's retreating back, almost—
but his finger freezes against the trigger. while this man could still be a danger to his own, he doesn't pursue, either. "it's good enough" might be why; a starving person won't be a threat if they're contending with a wound at the same time. he might not even survive the night, depending.
beyond that, however, there's a feeling of vague discomfort. even though he knows he's right (has to be right), he can't shake how unsettled he feels. he holsters his revolver for the first time that day, tucking his trembling arms against himself as he turns to head back toward the old school buildings.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
LAZILY GETS A DONUT
...Garry? [it's difficult to see through the ever-present fog, but after a few days of having to deal with it, he's gotten a little more used to identifying people by the shape of their outlines alone. he's a little more hesitant in doing so this time, but he lowers his revolver, stepping away from the wood he had been preparing to hack into smaller pieces.]
Is that you?
THAT'S NOT WORK
[ momentarily, the familiar voice gives him some clarity, and he squints into the fog at the silhouette, taking a few hesitant steps forward. ]
That's right, it's Garry. G-goodness, I didn't think I'd run into anyone else out here...
NO BUT IT'S MOVEMENT kind of
Most people have been staying inside lately, I think... It's not like there's much point in foraging. [there's a wry, almost bitter note in his voice at that. failure to provide something so simple, even if it's the fault of the town, makes him feel disgusted with himself.]
the donuts cancel out the movement, it's like jogging to a mcdonalds!!
With all these monsters around... I'm sure that those people are just hiding it from us! You've got to be careful, Gilbert! It's not safe anywhere.
don't be blasphemous u fool it will definitely work
but the paranoia pushes that away after a few seconds, leaving him reeling at Garry's words.]
Do you think that's what happened? [he sounds breathless, taking a step closer.] It could have been anyone, but it isn't so far-fetched, is it? If they've already taken things that belong to others... [not safe anywhere, indeed.]
dubious glance
But what do you mean, they've already taken things?
dubious flips into the ocean
You've noticed, haven't you? Everyone is missing something except for them. [there's a bite of vitriol with "them", but not quite as much emphasis as some of his comrades had used.] Even benign things like healing... If they would take something like that, food wouldn't be a stretch.
[he's keeping an even more attentive eye on Garry now, though. does that mean his ability hadn't been intrinsic enough to notice when it left, or—?]
dubious shaking head and walking into the distance
[ things like healing? That was a power. Garry shakes his head rapidly, wringing his hands. He's not thinking clearly enough to make the connection that Gilbert probably will at this point; there's too much noise in his head. ]
No, no, no, isn't that good? They're just like the other monsters around here, I mean, so it's safer this way, but -- they must be taking the food to try and... starve us off, maybe? I don't know. We need to get rid of them, Gilbert, or we're going to be trapped here and die! S-somehow. Somehow...
no subject
like the other monsters — to get rid of them... a sharp and vehement anger momentarily overwhelms his anxious paranoia. it isn't for himself, though; no, in spite of the rising suspicion against others of his own "kind", his thoughts still turn to Oz first. these people would label him a monster (something that hits particularly close to home) and hunt him down. these people were trying to kill him.]
What do you think you're doing?! [in the same breath, he's raised his revolver again.] Leaving everyone helpless and starved and killing off the rest— Has that been your plan? Is that why you've all been spending these past few days gloating instead of trying to help?!
no subject
This reaction -- he was one of them. He was a monster. ]
Gilbert... You're one of them? H-how... How could you act like you did? You acted like you were my friend!! [ suddenly, his voice gains an accusatory tone, shaky though it is. ] You're just like Mary...!
no subject
there's a fierceness in his expression that doesn't entirely match up with the way his firing arm trembles just slightly.]
If anyone here is acting, it's you! I trusted you when I needed help, I believed you when you said that you would look for Oz, and now this? [and to think he had been stupid enough to let his guard down so far. coldness pricks at his spine and he shakes his head once, trying to clear it.] ...If anything happens to him in this mess because of you and yours, I won't forgive you. I will never forgive you.
no subject
Don't be ridiculous! You're the ones who started this! Ib and I would be safe back home if not for you! [ he points at him, accusing -the growling tone in his voice is practically unheard of for Garry. He swallows heavily. ] And if Oz is a monster, too, he's as much at fault as the rest of you!!
no subject
but he can't process anything beyond that. "at fault" means "to be persecuted". in this starved state, Oz wouldn't be able to fend off a group of attackers — shouldn't have to. blind anger shoots through him, and both that and his insurmountable paranoia work in Garry's advantage this time. normally, he's one of the best shots in all of Pandora, second only to his brother. today, his hands are shaking horribly. there's something in him still that hasn't been fully drowned by illusion, something that says no, not an enemy, not an enemy, but it isn't enough.
it's partially out of reflex and partially out of the desire to defend that he pulls the trigger, but he's shaken so badly that it's nowhere near fatal. at best the bullet might graze his shoulder, puncturing at worst.]
no subject
He screams at the sudden burn of the injury. That's all it takes for him to leave whatever else he was thinking of behind. He bolts. There was nothing else he wanted to say - he doesn't even consider it. He stumbles back from the impact, and the momentum goes straight into a run, even with one hand gripping the wound; he's only going on animal instinct now, the fog in his brain, and he doesn't look back.
He'll starve if he has to. He can't go out there again. ]
no subject
but his finger freezes against the trigger. while this man could still be a danger to his own, he doesn't pursue, either. "it's good enough" might be why; a starving person won't be a threat if they're contending with a wound at the same time. he might not even survive the night, depending.
beyond that, however, there's a feeling of vague discomfort. even though he knows he's right (has to be right), he can't shake how unsettled he feels. he holsters his revolver for the first time that day, tucking his trembling arms against himself as he turns to head back toward the old school buildings.]