tsaf loop 2: nowhere to run

As the blistering heat fades away, flakes of snow begin to make their way down from the heavens to settle on the grass. It's gentle — quiet — at odds with the eerieness of the day. 

It feels like something is holding its breath. Waiting, perhaps. Watching.  

" — Fuck!" Robbie kicks the HVAC condenser with a booted foot, against the outside wall of the house. Nothing happens, as expected. Shit.  

If he can't get it working again... he's not sure if he's going to be able to afford the repairs.  

For now, he'll set his little bag of tools up on the kitchen windowsill. He lets out a sigh, breath clouding in the air before him as he turns around, resting his back against the wall.  

— The things in his yard seem to exist only to mock him. It's stupid, isn't it? Fucking idiotic to be bothered by something like that, but it's only another thing to add on to all the shit that's pissed him off today.  

He can't help but notice the way the snow doesn't stick, the way they've gotten bigger than they were earlier today, the way it kind of gives him a headache to look at them.  

Robbie's got no air conditioning, and no heat — whichever he fucking needs at the moment, because apparently the weather just plans to do whatever it damn well pleases today, and there's idiotic creepy fucking mushrooms in his yard, and he's had the worst feeling in his gut all day, and —

— AGHHH. 

Another sigh. He leans down in order to pick up a rock amid the falling sn— 

— There's the sound of a gunshot — glass shattering. 

There's the warning shot. Hopefully that got his attention? 

Truthfully, she's not 100% sure how she's gonna carry this over, but...Dakota Bronte stands outside Robbie Goodman's house, her now-shortened hair flowing in the blizzard's wind.

He can't help but be immediately on edge — far more than he was before. Eyes going wide, he slips back inside through the sliding door, avoiding the glass shattered onto his kitchen floor. 

Robbie grabs his knife, stowing it away in a pocket as he moves through to the front of his house, stealing a glance through the front window. 

... It's her. 

He's not sure whether or not to be surprised.  

... Fine. Stepping out the front door, shutting it behind him as he heads out into the driveway. 

" — Fuck do you want?"

Dakota looks up, sweeping some hair out of her face. Not enough to show her other eye, but enough to be able to see Robbie somewhat properly.  

She gives him a small, cruel smile. It doesn't look like the ones she usually gave other people, somewhat optimistic yet trying her best to not look evil at all.  

There's no hint of empathy there. No hint of anything but sheer malice. 

"....I thought it was obvious enough already?" She raises one of her guns slightly, twirling it around. "–I'm here to kill you!~"

Robbie tilts his head, mouth settling into a hard frown as he glares at her. That expression... it's different from anything he's seen from her before. 

"I didn't fucking do anything to you. Did that shit all to yourself. Wasn't even the one who narked to Pheme."  

... That's a real gun, isn't it? He wasn't prepared for that. His pulse quickens as he stares her down, fingers curling into fists.  

"Get the hell out of here. Now."

Dakota pouts, putting the gun down slightly as her shoulders slump. It's all an act, of course, only her way of playfully messing with Robbie as if this was just another day in the drama club...or something like that. 

"–but I've come so far already! And my whole body hurts from what happened...you know.....from everyone beating me up just because YOU couldn't keep your mouth shut!"  

Abruptly, she pulls out the second gun, painted and decorated like her BB gun but definitely real.  

"I had money, Robbie. I could've given it to you! ANYTHING you wanted, I would've done if you just kept your MOUTH SHUT! But nooooooooo, you HAD to act like the good guy for once, huh? Keep your morality? For ONCE, YOU DECIDED TO NOT BE EVIL, AND LOOK AT WHERE IT GOT ME!" 

She holds up both guns, laughing to herself, staring at him straight in the eye with nothing but bloodlust.  

"And this, Robbie Goodman, is why I'm going to kill you! You ruined my life, SO I'M TAKING YOURS!~"

Oh, come on. He's told her before not to play games with him. Still... he almost believes it for a second — that she's going to leave. She's a coward, after all. 

"Should've fucking told me why you did it, then, aye? Maybe then I would've had a shred of sympathy for you." He manages to sound cold, even despite his nerves. "...Gave you a goddamn choice and you made one." 

He knows it, of course — he's aware he threw her under the bus for no reason, even if he didn't know that at the time. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his gaze fixes on the two guns. 

"I don't want your FUCKING MONEY!" Robbie shouts. He knows that she's been scared of him before... maybe he can manage to intimidate her. "I was clear. I wouldn't give a fuck unless shit went wrong. And then it did — got personal." 

He manages a scoff, letting out one of his signature cackles. If nothing else... he's a good actor.  

"And what then? You think it's gonna change anything? Hell — you think it's even going to work? Last I checked, all your plans go to shit." 

"It won't. I won't let it." Her voice is cold, and her feet remain planted to the ground. Of course, she's scared, terrified even, but....she can overshadow every emotion by remembering the wounds on her neck, eyes, nose. All of them.  

"You think I'm scared of you still? You think I care? Of course I don't! NOTHING you can do to me can take me down more than everyone in this fucking school already has." 

Hell–she barely even sounds like herself.  

Her aim is pretty good, though, so she raises her arm and shoots one steady shot, straight at his chest.

He sees her lift her arm, and his survival instincts manage to kick in just in time.  

Somewhat, at least.  

For such a tall, oddly proportioned guy, Robbie's reflexes are surprisingly quick. He's had a little more practice with this type of thing than most people would tend to think, albeit unprepared as he is this time. 

Rather than lodging into his chest cavity, the bullet rips through the sleeve of his jacket, lancing across his upper arm as he lets out a cry. Most likely, it's left a sizeable gash — of course, now's not the time to be checking.  

"Shit," he hisses through his teeth, taking a second to assess the situation as the adrenaline rushes through his veins.  

... He's going to try to knock her down, barreling towards her.

Dakota barely had enough time to try and dodge that before Robbie knocked her down, making Dakota drop the gun she had been gripping loosely, losing it against the snow. 

"Shit." She wasn't expecting him to be able to dodge that easily, which angered her slightly, but– 

She tries to fire another shot with her other gun.

Robbie doesn't stop there. He's not that stupid, at least, to assume that she's not going to keep coming after him. 

He stomps down on her wrist, hard — but it's not enough to completely prevent her from pulling the trigger.  

This time, it gets his thigh, grazing a little deeper than the last one as it takes a chunk of flesh with it. Already, a few rivulets of blood from his arm are dripping down his already bandaged knuckles and into the fresh snow.

Dakota lets out a small yelp as Robbie stomps down on her wrist, smiling as she notices the gunshot graze his thigh.  

Figuring as Robbie was too distracted by the gun wound to keep his balance, she made an effort to throw him off balance, trying to drag him down into the snow with her. Not enough time to try and shoot him again, though.

Unfortunately for Robbie, she manages to succeed. He falls into the snow, cursing under his breath as expected.  

Wincing as he lands on his injured arm — at least it's partially cushioned by the snow — he takes a moment to breathe before lunging for her again.  

He needs to get that gun away from her.

Dakota flailed the arm holding the gun around slightly, trying to prevent Robbie from snatching it up, but by the time she managed to think up any coherent plan, he had already tackled her.  

She tried to push him off to no avail, making her resort to throwing the gun towards the snow offhandedly. As long as Robbie didn't get it and tried to kill her with it himself, huh? 

"I'll kill you–I'll kill you–nothing you can do can stop me."

"Really? How?" He spits, grabbing her by the collar of her jacket and slamming her harder against the ground. "You just threw away your only advantage." 

"I could fucking kill you right now and get away with it. Who'd ever come looking for you? Everyone in this town hates you, or did you forget that?"  

Robbie reaches into his pocket, slipping his fingers through the knuckle grips as he pulls out his knife.

"–Lin cares about me. Lin doesn't hate me, you saw that they don't hate me, and if you killed me, they'd know it was you, and then you'll end up dead anyway!" 

She reaches out, gripping Robbie's hand in an attempt to push the knife away, grimacing as she felt the soreness on her arms act up again.  

"I'll kill you. I'll KILL YOU! THERE'S NOTHING I WANT MORE THAN TO SEE YOU DEAD!"

"You really think they could stop me either?"  

Robbie laughs, now. Mocking her. It's easier to pretend he isn't entirely shaken up by all of this when he has the advantage. 

"I told you this wasn't gonna work. That you shouldn't play games with me. Where'd it get you?" 

He pushes back against her grip — she can't take it from him, sure, but it's still an awkward scuffle, considering they're both injured and all.

"Where'd it get you?"  

She can't really kill him, sure, her arms are too sore and the adrenaline is wearing her down, making her unable to do nothing but push Robbie's knife back, unable to take it yet able enough to prevent Robbie from stabbing her.  

"Your arm is hurt. Your leg. Even if you manage to get away from me, you really think I won't try again? And again, and again, and again, until I kill you?"

There's a bitter laugh, this time. 

"Trust me, I've been far worse. There's a lot of people out there far more capable than you. You'll never get that far." 

They're kind of at a stalemate with the knife, huh? He's kind of realizing that he's not going to get anywhere with that. He begins to scrabble around a bit in the snow, as best he can without losing his advantage against her. 

... The fingers of his injured hand brush against something.

–oh, that's a pretty hefty rock. Dakota's eyes drift towards it for a second, widening as she notices Robbie can grab it pretty easily. In an attempt to distract him from it, though, she raises her knee, attempting to jab it into Robbie's stomach.  

"–even if I don't....I'll do whatever it takes to make you regret living in the first place." Her voice is laced with poison. Yes, her heart's beating rapidly, but above the fear stands her insatiable need to kill Robin "Robbie" Goodman.

Robbie may not be the most athletic person in the world, but he's certainly stronger than he looks — and the adrenaline helps. 

He lets out a woosh of breath as she knees him in the gut, doubling over just enough to be face to face with her for just a moment. 

"Already failed." Because he already does.  

With that, he lifts the rock, clubbing her over the head. It's almost satisfying, watching the way she goes out cold, slumping against the snow.  

He takes a moment to ensure that it's done the trick, that she's not faking, before he shifts his position — he readjusts his grip on the knife, bringing it against her throat to draw a thin sliver of blood. 

... He could, couldn't he? Slit her throat right now, leave her dead in a ditch. He's surely considering it.  

Robbie backs up, sitting on his haunches.  

... And brings the knife down, through her foot. Twisting it. Again. Again. And the other. 

He wipes the blood off on the fluffy collar of her jacket. 

Getting to his feet, he pulls out his phone to type through bloodied fingers as he heads towards the garage to get some rope.

PVH_Robbie: Run awwy with me

PVH_Robbie: Gross wordijg Fuck. not like tht

PVH_Robbie: I am habing VERY ABD DAY

PVDC_Alice: whats up?? you ok??

PVH_Robbie: My hwat is out snd a window is brojen BECAISE

PVH_Robbie: Hokd on 

PVH_Robbie: Fuck

PVH_Robbie: Demon girl is actively attempting to FUCKING MURDER ME FOR SENDING HER FAMILY HER DOXX BULLSHIT and I have been SHOT TWICE BY HER AT MY OWN HOME and it's a fucking blizzard outside and I have no heat and there are weird fucking things growing in my yard 

PVH_Robbie: Need to get the fuck out of my house

PVH_Robbie: Skip town or some shit. I don't fucking know

PVDC_Alice: ??? im assuming you aren't dying if you're texting me instead of calling 911...?

PVDC_Alice: she has guns??? jesus 

PVDC_Alice: maybe you SHOULD call 911?

PVDC_Alice: do you need to get picked up or something?

PVH_Robbie: Bullets are not in me

PVH_Robbie: She had two. Not sure where one went. Took the other

PVH_Robbie: Dont think I should call

PVH_Robbie: Stabbed her a few times after knocking her out

PVH_Robbie: I can drive. Dont want to leave her a vehicle. I just want to get the fuck out of here

PVDC_Alice: come over? we can talk about what to do from here, or something.

PVH_Robbie: Give me a little bit. Need to make sure she doesn't follow me.

PVDC_Alice: be careful

PVH_Robbie: I will.

... Robbie's going to tie her up, while she's still out. Just in case. 

He'll head inside, throwing some random clothes and things into a duffel bag, and quickly bandaging himself a little to stop the bleeding. 

On second thought, he's grabbing one of his swords, just in case. 

Once he's back outside, he'll hitch his camper to his truck, stupid as it looks. It's better than letting her steal one of the vehicles.  

Fuck. 

Guess he's leaving.