Blood On Our Hands (Red vs Blue)

Game On

When Iowa opened the door to finally see her friend for the first time in three days, she found Nevada... asleep in a barren corner, only a white blanket over her shoulders and a long-cold coffee mug sitting a foot away. Iowa smirked at her friend. And people call her the weird one. Nevada's pretty strange herself. Before waking her friend, Iowa took a look around Nevada's temporary prison cell, as she probably calls it. Iowa could understand that... She's lived a hard life, fights, abuse, even accusion of murder, and being thrown in a maximun security prison.

Iowa's never been in a prison... well, she can't say that. Yeah, she has, but only for a week or two. But that's beside the point. Nevada was stuck in a small prison cell without much contact with the outside world for three years. It's a small time for most real criminals, but they had her seperated from the main body. Alone. It was only her and her thoughts most of the time. Even now it's difficult for her to escape those trapping thoughts, that maze that she calls her mind.

Iowa knew that feeling all to well. She wanders, constantly. Thinks. Over-thinks. Doodles. She can never stay in one place for too long. It all begins to grow dull unless she's constantly in action, in one way, shape, or form. She's always on the move. She get's... a little 'ansy' if she doesn't.

She noticed scattered papers around Nevada's corner, each filled to the brim with words upon words, hardly any blank spaces besides the space between words and the boundries of the papers. Nevada once told her that she wanted to become a small time writer and/or an architect. But she ended up in the military, and, since then, her -their- life -lives- have went down the drain, well... they can never go back to a 'normal' life.

Just out of curiousity, Iowa crounched down, and gently picked up one of the papers. It wasn't dated, but the lead was still dark, suggesting she wrote it not to long ago... or she wrote darkly. Iowa shrugged.

'I can't change it, and, even If I could, I wouldn't change my life, the direction it's going down. I chose it, nearly twelve years ago. Many damn things influenced that choice, so many things. If I could go back and change it, change anything... I.... I wouldn't. I wouldn't give up anything that I have for the world. I'm... happy where I am, and I don't want to change it. To many memories,'

Iowa smiled. Both of them had a way of... of reminding themselves that they wouldn't have met if it wasn't for their past in the military, if they hadn't had made certain choices in life. Everything could have been different if they choice one thing differently. It's... weird, thinking of that topic. Your choices really matter, one thing different could have different outcomes, which could gave other effects after that, and so on. The list can continually go on and on. A chain that had multiple chains attached to it.

Outcome-ception, as Iowa puts it.

She set the paper down where she found it, and turned to Nevada, who was still snuggled in her corner. She walked over to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her. She just shifted. Iowa sighed. Is this how she is in the mornings? Nevada's always the first one up. "Nev. You're free to go now," Iowa said, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

Nevada's eyes slowly blinked open, still kind of dazed from the slumber she was in. She turned over, russling the papers near her. "Iowa? Why are you here?" She asked, staring up at her. "I'm here to wake you up. You're not grounded any more," Iowa responded, extending a hand to her still half-asleep friend. Groggily, Nevada grabbed Iowa's wrist, and Iowa did the same. She hoisted her up to her feet.

Nevada nearly kicked the coffee mug, her toe barely missing the handle. She looked down at it, and raised an eyebrow in question. "What?" Iowa asked, confused. Why was she questioning her coffee? "I... I never made coffee. There's not a maker in here," She said, her eyebrow visibly twitching. Iowa suddenly remembered that she only drinks iced coffee. Nevada shrugged, not really caring.