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📍Poguelandia
SANTANA WAS GROANING IN PAIN, her gunshot wound revitalised by the harsh descent into the ocean being pulled onto a getaway boat with who she deemed one of Selah's minions. She was cold, sore and above all, tired.
She couldn't quite see anything, darkness looming over this small boat as they headed in the opposite direction of the Coastal Venture. Selah's minion hadn't said a word, his eyes sharply on the sea ahead whilst Santana was left to her own thoughts; she couldn't muster a sentence. Santana didn't care to argue or fight, she just sat back questioning wether this was even real.
Curses were flying through her mind over Selah as the journey grew longer, after all this time she couldn't completely process that the surfer aunty from her childhood with the coolest shop had betrayed her as deeply as she had. Even her mother, Santana had been waiting for a true feeling of relief from her mother's reappearance yet all she had was a deep-rooted feeling of abandonment. All this damn time she was there.
And all that damn time, Ward Cameron was her father. Her mind had trailed onto the what if's. What if she was raised full kook? What kind of a poncy ass rich kid would she have been? Then that sinking feeling came back, reminding herself that through and through she was truly a Santos by blood — even from her mother's side. Her whole life was the Santos, yet she quickly melted into a Pogue.
She didn't want to be a Santos anymore, she didn't want the obligation... the bloodshed. Santana laughed when her mind trailed to Gia, thinking about how the OBX had — in an odd way — reshaped her. She wanted to be a Pogue, she wanted the Pogue life.
And she was going to get it.
The boat had started to slow down at the sight of an isolated island, buried in trees and rocks. She saw a small outline between the larger of the rocks, some sort of makeshift bonfire tucked in the back. There were 6 blurry figures that rose as the boat came closer, a couple cheers and one look of terror peeking through as the boat's lights sparkled onto the sand.
Santana's eyes beamed as got a closer look at her Pogues.
"Santana?" Was all she heard from the distance, her lover's voice too familiar to miss. Her head spun to the man, "How did you-"
"Don't ask questions," He answered, sliding the boat around to stop. The man coughed, "This is your final stop, kid."
She shook her head, "Hell no, this is now a search and rescue. You're taking us all!"
He laughed in her face, reaching into his pocket where he cocked a gun, "Selah said this is where I gotta leave ya."
"Then this is where I'll be left," Santana retorted, her arms up as she hovered out of the boat. She did have it in her to flip him off though, not that the man cared — he was clearly about to get a paycheck with some of that gold money.
