Routine Malaise

Day 7

Much of the southern portion of town is inhabited by apartment complexes, typically made of cement and appearing largely the same in design, with multiple floors and flat roofs. Many of the buildings have small, dilapidated courtyards protected by wrought iron fences and decorated with picnic tables and other patio furniture. There are very few buildings in this area that aren’t decorated with graffiti.
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Cake
Posts: 134
Joined: Tue Oct 02, 2018 4:48 am

Routine Malaise

#1

Post by Cake »

[[Miles Strickland Continued From: Affluenza.]]

"My god, you can smell the poor."

Miles muttered the words in clear displeasure as he stepped in through the first door of an apartment complex. It wasn't an exaggeration either. The whole place reeked, much like everywhere else in this trashy ghetto neighborhood he found himself in this morning. He was only here, for convenience of shelter, and because it was an upgrade, after spending the night wandering around and shivering on this dangerous island alone.

It was quite possibly the most inane decision to go running off on his own, or rather - hobbling off, in his own case, he soon found out.

First off he could not believe he had traded the Gated Community, for this place.

Second there was that feeling of familiar isolation back with him again from day one, before Chuck and Kat stumbled onto his hiding place at the western beach-side lagoon. Both of whom were now deceased thanks at least partially, to Miles. He couldn't take all the responsibility of course. Stacy was mostly to blame for all of that. However, he wasn't mad at her, not anymore.

After several lonesome hours of calm down time, Miles had time to think and realize that he too had over-reacted back there when Rachael pushed him over the edge by saying what she did right after he was already feeling sick from hearing the shocking news on the morning announcement. It was unbecoming for him to act that way in front of ladies, especially friends.

Stacy had protected and may have even saved his life a few times, despite her stupidity. Same could be said for Rachael, actually. Stacy in particular was a useful ally, who supported him along through his injury and helped keep him safe. She was well-armed and carried a big gun, no less.

To leave that support and go off into the hazardous world around him was just not good thinking.

Miles could already see the image of his father, with arms crossed, shaking his head in disappointment at Miles' unwise decisions, mentioning something about how his cousin would never do something so careless and it was true, she wouldn't, he wouldn't normally either in fact, but the damn place changed things, people were killing other people now for goodness sake. So buzz off dad.

Truth is, Miles was plain scared. An attempt to find others failed simply because of that fact.

It was always the sound of bullets or screams of agony, everywhere he'd go. Either that or it was the sight of another corpse for him to clear from. Hopefully turning away from them would mean he wouldn't have to see another non-living body of someone he was at all close with, like when he found Francis, dead, at the abandoned school. Hell, Miles had even tossed aside his dignity to stay here.

Several times Miles had considered turning around and heading back to the house with Stacy and Rachael, but didn't because the one thing he still had was his pride, some of which he had lost after that pitiful encounter with Joe. However, Miles had convinced himself that the girls would be long gone from that place anyway, so even if he did the act would be pointless.

Another announcement had come and gone earlier that morning, which led him here. They were still alive at least. He was still alive. Alive was good.

The only plan he had at that moment was to find an adequate room to rest within this musty and decrepit, old apartment. So far, no luck.

Fortunately his nose was starting to get stuffy, probably due to the allergies he had started to develop here. Maybe that was a blessing for him to avoid the poor people smell, because the place was starting to reek, more and more.

At one point, Miles thought he heard footsteps and looked behind him every now and then only to discover there was nothing there each time. It made him uneasy at first, but realized that it just may have been him; he was still a bit unwell, physically, so it was probably best to focus his attention on finding that comfortable enough room to recover and sleep, and put this Hunga Munga down, A.S.A.P.

There was another door at the end of a hallway, probably leading to yet another hallway, lined with apartment rooms on each side. He turned the knob and walked in. He kept on walking down the hall until he thought he saw something nearby. It was now a foot from his foot.

That was when Miles realized what it was. He stumbled backward immediately; rear-end landing on and touching the floor.

His shout echoed throughout the apartment.
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Will†
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#2

Post by Will† »

((Stacy Ramsey continued from Affluenza))

If there was anything Stacy regretted doing from yesterday it would be slapping Rachael. She may have been the cause for Miles leaving them, and had almost blown the secret that Naomi was actually dead, but she didn't deserve to get slapped. Stacy hadn't even said sorry to her for what she'd done. Stacy didn't know what came over herself, everyone in that house weren't like their usual selves yesterday.

Since yesterday, Stacy had been trailing behind Miles. She'd been keeping her distance, walking so far behind him so that he was only just in eyesight. Her plan was to avoid talking to Miles for as long as possible whilst still keeping track at him. This would give him enough time to cool off, then after that they could go back to being normal again. Well, about as normal as someone could be in this situation, as being in SOTF wouldn't exactly be classified as "normal". Stacy just didn't want Miles to be angry at her anymore. She was scared that if she approached him right now, he might start questioning her about what Rachael said about Naomi. Or even worse, if Miles did actually believe what Rachael said and Stacy would have to deal with his wrath. She didn't know how to deal with the Naomi situation anymore, what Rachael said had sort of thrown a spanner in the works. Maybe she would wait until Miles was asleep during one of the next announcements. Then she could say that Naomi died then and not back on day two and reveal that they had been lying to him for almost a week.

They were now approaching a large apartment complex. It looked pretty dreary. She felt sorry for the people who used to have to live in them. It was a huge step down from the houses near the mansions. There must have been a big contrast between the rich and poor people that used to live on the island; the mansions were only on the other side of the town. It would have been like a kick in the face looking out the window everyday and seeing a mansion that close to where they lived.

Stacy saw Miles enter the apartment complex. She hoped he wasn't planning on staying there for long; it didn't look like the most pleasant of places. Then again, it would be better than staying in the woods. Stacy was surprised Miles even decided to go into the apartments. Usually he would completely avoid a place like that. She was expecting him to loop back around and go back to the mansions.
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Will†
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#3

Post by Will† »

((Sorry for the double post (and copying of some content from previous post) but I've reached my inactivity deadline))

After a couple of minutes, Stacy caught up to where Miles had been. She was getting exhausted lugging all her belongings around. It was bad enough a few days ago when she just had the bag and the shotgun, but now she had a massive spear to deal with. She couldn't afford to rest though, she needed to keep the same pace as Miles, or otherwise she'd lose him.

Almost as soon as Stacy went through the threshold of the building, she heard a loud scream. It was Miles, she was sure of it. She sprinted towards the direction she heard the scream. For a moment, she thought she'd lost him in the maze of rooms, but as she turned a corner she saw him sat on the floor, staring down one of the corridors. He didn't seem to be injured at all, so she was confused as to what he could be so frightened about.

"Miles, what is it?" Stacy panted.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Will. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Cake
Posts: 134
Joined: Tue Oct 02, 2018 4:48 am

#4

Post by Cake »

There it was. The moment after he saw it and shouted, felt like forever, like a month, at a minimum.

He had backed up all the way until he touched the wall, where he sat against, trembling. Even through the short amount of time Miles had spent there cowering in terror, it was like he had been there, frozen in time just waiting, waiting for it to go away, forever. Why? Why him.

One voice finally managed to snap him out of it. He looked up next to him.

"S-Stacy?"

Mild astonishment.

That was her, it was really her. He wanted to scamper over to her feet and give her legs a hug right then and there. She really had the knack of appearing and bailing him out of misfortune when he really needed it.

Well except for the other day, when Joe Carrasco was busy playing patty-cake on Miles' face and using Miles' bandaged abdomen as a punching bag, but at least someone he knew was here now and he didn't need to go crawling back to her.

Had she been the source of the sounds that was making him so paranoid and uneasy this whole time? Most likely. This meant she probably saw him in his most pathetic state, when he had thought he'd been keeping the tears, anguish, fear and vulnerability in private. He hoped to hell not, but she certainly witnessed this much, and well, it was time to save face.

"T'was-nothing," Miles said whilst moving his head and shoulders with a pronounced swagger.

Miles' normally honeyed words were somewhat quick, and lacked the poise and spirit he'd been known for as he staggered to pull himself up to his feet. He forced a smiled, straightened his back and postured to recapture some aura of confidence since he wasn't usually caught off guard like this. Wasn't very believable was it.

Then the big, fat, furry, behemoth decided now was the time to run past his feet a second time, causing Miles to jump and let loose a second shriek as it scurried its way over to the corner of the hallway where it would soon disappear.

"Damn, Hall Rat."

Miles shouted the words then threw the Hunga Munga at it in a last ditch effort to not look like a loser. He shook his head and released a nervous laugh.

It missed of course.
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Will†
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#5

Post by Will† »

Stacy felt mildly relieved when Miles stated he was fine. She was worried that there was going to be another crazy classmate attempting to kill them again. However, she was confused as to what Miles was so scared about and how he ended up curled up on the floor in fear. As Stacy's lips parted to ask what the screaming was all about, Miles let out another shriek and jolted towards her, in turn making her jump slightly. She noticed something brown scuttle out of sight around the corner of the corridor Miles had been staring down. Pushing herself past Miles, Stacy stuck her head round the corner and watched as a small brown rat scurried down the corridor.

Turning to Miles, Stacy raised an eyebrow and smirked. That was what he had been so afraid of. A rat. They were on an island full of murderous high school kids, but what had caused Miles to screech like a little girl was a rat.

"Really Miles? A rat?" Stacy said in a condescending tone with a smile growing across her face. "You're lucky there wasn't a whole pack of them, otherwise you would have really been in trouble."

With a teasing smile plastered on her face, Stacy continued to stare at Miles for a few seconds. Her eyes darted across his face, examining his expression before turning away and looking down the corridor again. Stacy was glad that Miles and seemingly calmed down since yesterday, at least she thought he had calmed down. He seemed relatively pleased to see her and he wasn't acting hostilely towards her, so she took that as a sign that he had forgiven her. Stacy liked how she could normally around Miles, it was like they were back at school again; they always had fun teasing each other.

Stepping out into the next corridor, Stacy decided to follow the rat. She passed Miles's weapon that was lying on the floor, and with her foot she flung the weapon backwards so it slid towards Miles. As Stacy walked down the corridor, she noticed a horrendous smell that grew stronger with each step she took. It smelt like something was rotting, it must be what was attracting the rat.

Stacy was reaching the end of the hallway, and the smell was getting so powerful that she had to pinch her nose and breathe through her mouth. The rat turned a corner into another corridor that was attached to the end of the hallway. When Stacy reached the end of the hallway, she turned the corner and her eyes widened in horror at what she saw.

There was a mangled corpse spread out across the corridor surrounded by large patches of dried blood. The body was covered in flies, maggots and rats that were feasting on the body's remains, crawling in and out of the body's various wounds. Stacy released a loud shriek, but quickly stifled it by clasping her hand over her mouth when she realised who the body was. At first she didn't recognise her; her face was smeared with dried blood, damaged by decay and was partially covered by a bag, but it was definitely the face of Naomi Bell.

Stacy began to panic. She looked around frantically, trying to figure out what to do as tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't let Miles find out like this. He'd only just forgiven her for Rachael's mistake yesterday. Now Stacy would have to face his anger all over again, only this time it would be far worse. At least he didn't believe Rachael when she told him, there was no way of fooling Miles this time. She stuck her head round the corner. Miles was coming towards her, her attempt to stifle her scream hadn't worked, he'd heard her.

"No no no no no." Stacy whimpered as her eyes darted across Naomi's body.

In an attempt of desperation, Stacy dashed towards the bag by Naomi's head. The rats squeaked in fear and scattered as Stacy approached the body. Grabbing the bag, Stacy placed it on Naomi's face, making sure all of it was covered. Maybe Miles's wouldn't think to look under it to see who it was; he didn't like gross things so he probably wouldn't go near it. Stacy was kidding herself. Of course he would look under the bag. Who wouldn't? Even if he didn't want to look under it he'd make Stacy take it off to see the identity of the body.

Stacy took several steps back to where she was stood previously. With a whimper, she slid down the wall and covered her face with her hands. She could hear Miles approaching.
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Will†
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#6

Post by Will† »

((Sorry Psych, but I need to leave. PM if you're not happy with the mild GMing))

From the corner of her eye, Stacy saw Miles appear from around the corner. She couldn't cope with this; Miles would probably try and kill her if she stuck around any longer. Without looking at Miles' face to see his reaction, Stacy grabbed her bag and weapons and stood up. He was blocking her exit, so with a violent shove Stacy pushed past him.

"I'm sorry." Stacy sobbed as she dashed down the hallway.

Without looking back, Stacy didn't stop running until she was far away from the apartments.

((Stacy Ramsey continued in The World According to Third Grade))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Will. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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SOTF_Help
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#7

Post by SOTF_Help »

Miles' first thought was to follow after Stacy. She was almost all he had left, the only remaining member of the group he had traveled with, the students who had nursed him back to health and protected him, and despite the tension they had faced, he retained enough trust and affection for her to want to keep track of her. It would be safer for both of them.

But something about the way she shoved past, heedless of his still-aching injuries, something about the way she choked out her apology, kept him there. It drew his attention towards the body on the ground, clearly not fresh, torn violently open, its face covered.

With a sinking feeling, he lifted the bag free.

He saw exactly why Stacy had fled in such a hurry.

((Miles Strickland continued in End of the Road))
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