sweetcandygirl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sweetcandygirl) wrote2019-02-05 07:50 pm
sweetcandygirl) wrote2019-02-05 07:50 pm
Entry tags:
In the Bleak Midwinter
A very visible pink jacket moves across the winter landscape. Her legs trudge through the large snow banks. Harley moves away from the safety of the tents, and soon finds herself trudging up a slight slope of snow, where she is able to look over the snow-covered Nexus area.
The wind bites at her from all sides.
Harley pops a piece of bubblegum and stares down at the tent she left behind. Would anyone care if she just never returned?
At least it wouldn't matter if she didn't want her rations anymore. They would just count her as lost, readjust the ration control, and move on.
The smell of urine and blood. The sound of someone crying down the hall. That laughter... reaching her at her loneliness moment
She is glad she isn't in one of the leadership roles. But does wonder on how they were decided. It seems it was just those who were used to the role in their own worlds stepped forward to do their best.
But their best is starting to get so tightly wound up... she can see the facades cracking all around her.
The rules and regulations that work in normal situations are not working in this dire situation. And it won't be long before those who pretend the hardest to be strong are falling apart themselves. A mountain can only be strong for so long... before the steady cold wind tears it apart.
The crackle and hiss of electricity as it hits her skin. That laughter... as the electric baton pokes her again and again. Her laughter....
Cricket would worry. He is a good man.
Adia and Caspar would worry. Harley has not been able to reach either one, and can only hope that they are one of those who got trapped on their world... and are not out there... somewhere in the whiteness, trying to stay warm. Slowly fading away, because they were forgotten.
But the others... those who have taken on the role of leadership?
Waller standing over her. Cold eyes that stare down at her, as her blood covers the entire area. 'You are on my time, Miss Quinn. Hurry up now'
What sacrifices have they made? What secrets are they keeping?
Harley knows that to be in that role... to be judging what is best 'for everyone else', that there is so much that can not be said. There is so much that is kept to the sacred few.
What does it take to be trusted? To be considered an ally?
Chanto's spirit circling her during All Hallows Eve. His flickering flame eyes never leaving her. 'Since when have you cared 'bout what other people thought?'
Is this all a test? A test of their leadership skills? A test of survival? Harley has heard tales of the Winter Spirit (and while she has met him, has not made the connection since he never provided her with his name). She remembers the lesson Goro was given last winter...
Will those self-acclaimed leaders demand justice for the sacrifices were made? Or maybe... perhaps they were already promised their prizes, if they kept the game going as long as it could.
His face stares down at her, as he holds two electrical nodes in his hands. 'I was always playing you, doll. Let's see how far I can push you...
Harley swings her bat side to side, looking at all the abandoned buildings beyond the torches. How many people left valuables behind in their hurry to get to warmth? Another bubble pop as she leaves the 'safety zone'.
She does not know what she is looking for... perhaps a clue to the many questions in her head. Maybe a direction for her own crazy life. Maybe a little glimmer of hope that she can capture... and bring back to the others.
When will they snap?
Will they cry? Will they laugh? Will they scream? Will they bear it in silence, or allow themselves to lean on someone else?
Perhaps that is her one gift in this situation... she has snapped already. Her crazy is the one thing that keeps her determined. Focused... in her own way.
The wind bites at her from all sides.
Harley pops a piece of bubblegum and stares down at the tent she left behind. Would anyone care if she just never returned?
At least it wouldn't matter if she didn't want her rations anymore. They would just count her as lost, readjust the ration control, and move on.
The smell of urine and blood. The sound of someone crying down the hall. That laughter... reaching her at her loneliness moment
She is glad she isn't in one of the leadership roles. But does wonder on how they were decided. It seems it was just those who were used to the role in their own worlds stepped forward to do their best.
But their best is starting to get so tightly wound up... she can see the facades cracking all around her.
The rules and regulations that work in normal situations are not working in this dire situation. And it won't be long before those who pretend the hardest to be strong are falling apart themselves. A mountain can only be strong for so long... before the steady cold wind tears it apart.
The crackle and hiss of electricity as it hits her skin. That laughter... as the electric baton pokes her again and again. Her laughter....
Cricket would worry. He is a good man.
Adia and Caspar would worry. Harley has not been able to reach either one, and can only hope that they are one of those who got trapped on their world... and are not out there... somewhere in the whiteness, trying to stay warm. Slowly fading away, because they were forgotten.
But the others... those who have taken on the role of leadership?
Waller standing over her. Cold eyes that stare down at her, as her blood covers the entire area. 'You are on my time, Miss Quinn. Hurry up now'
What sacrifices have they made? What secrets are they keeping?
Harley knows that to be in that role... to be judging what is best 'for everyone else', that there is so much that can not be said. There is so much that is kept to the sacred few.
What does it take to be trusted? To be considered an ally?
Chanto's spirit circling her during All Hallows Eve. His flickering flame eyes never leaving her. 'Since when have you cared 'bout what other people thought?'
Is this all a test? A test of their leadership skills? A test of survival? Harley has heard tales of the Winter Spirit (and while she has met him, has not made the connection since he never provided her with his name). She remembers the lesson Goro was given last winter...
Will those self-acclaimed leaders demand justice for the sacrifices were made? Or maybe... perhaps they were already promised their prizes, if they kept the game going as long as it could.
His face stares down at her, as he holds two electrical nodes in his hands. 'I was always playing you, doll. Let's see how far I can push you...
Harley swings her bat side to side, looking at all the abandoned buildings beyond the torches. How many people left valuables behind in their hurry to get to warmth? Another bubble pop as she leaves the 'safety zone'.
She does not know what she is looking for... perhaps a clue to the many questions in her head. Maybe a direction for her own crazy life. Maybe a little glimmer of hope that she can capture... and bring back to the others.
When will they snap?
Will they cry? Will they laugh? Will they scream? Will they bear it in silence, or allow themselves to lean on someone else?
Perhaps that is her one gift in this situation... she has snapped already. Her crazy is the one thing that keeps her determined. Focused... in her own way.