[[Miles Strickland Continued From: Stand Your Ground(s).]]
It was the sounds that woke him up. The loud beeping, the equally loud voices from inside, outside, and what sounded like speakers. Someone was speaking and people were reacting, all that wonderful stuff.
Miles' heavy lids fluttered open as he immediately tried to figure out what was going on. There was a throbbing in his head, probably out of heat or because he had a headache for sleeping so long. He was somewhat wet up top, his upper body temperature warm very warm, but his feet felt much chillier in comparison. Thing is, he didn't feel very sick, in fact he felt very medicated instead, which still felt strange, but at least it maybe meant he was recovering. The supposed symptoms of fever he had could have been much worse.
Fortunately the most he felt he needed to worry about at the moment was a splitting head-ache, nothing that a lovely cup of morning latte couldn't fix.
The first thing Miles noticed as he was pulling himself up, was that he was laying on a moderately-sized, but still too short and unfamiliar sofa, because his cold feet were hanging over the edge of the other-side. What time was it and where the bloody hell was he?
He lifted his upper-body, and placed his feet on the carpeted floor, rubbing his toes along the fabric and then sat straight up.
"Aw."
Darn, that hurt. His mid-section felt odd, like numb, but not numb and it was sort of itchy as well. His right hand went straight to his abdomen, but all he could feel was a bunch of long bandages tied over his wound. That's when he started to flash back to the lagoon.
Kat had nearly gutted him, he remembered that much, but he couldn't remember much more after that and he didn't want to remember what happened before that. The last thing he did remember was approaching the school, seeing Adonis run off and everything after that was just black.
Now here he was, just sitting down staring blank looks straight ahead in that "I just woke up" state of stupor, in a room with some furniture, a couple of tables and chairs for eating, some bulletins on the walls, a few appliances, most notably a coffee-maker, a soda machine and – where the was his shirt?
Miles felt a little bit exposed. He wasn't even wearing pants, all he had on was his plaid boxers and everything else was mostly bandages wrapped around him. His body was also beginning to become aware that his bladder was pretty full as well, but he didn't want to chance standing up, not so soon anyway.
Then he touched his face. More scruff had appeared; he could feel it along the side of his cheeks and chin. Goodness, he was becoming an unshaven mess. Some people liked to have facial hair, but Miles wasn't one of those people. He liked having a smooth face and he cursed his father's Viking genetics for blessing him with the ability.
How long was he passed out anyway? His designer scruff had to be at least two days' worth since the last time he checked.
There was a vague recollection of short images he could sort of remember in between the time he first passed out and when he woke up, but that was about it. Some of his classmates had helped him, they moved him to this teachers' lounge looking place and they'd kept him hydrated and medicated in intervals, but everything else was mostly sleep. He'd have to thank those people, eventually, but that would take some effort right now, so he stayed seated instead.
That was when the latest announcements, which his mind had so happened to put into the background, concluded. It was the first one he'd heard since he'd been placed in this SOTF-ACT, but he hadn't been paying attention to any of it.
The Best Part Of Waking Up
Folgers Reposted
((Rachael Langdon continued from Stand Your Ground(s)))
Rachael sat in one of the chairs in the teacher's lounge, her head hanging low. The last two days had not been easy for her and her group. They managed to prevent Miles from dying, but he was still on a close watch. They weren't professional doctors, and they had no idea if their efforts would keep Miles alive in the long run. Rachael could hardly approach Miles while they worked, so she kept to the side and watched their supplies.
Now that he was stable, they had taken turns watching over him. It was Rachael's turn, so she sat in the lounge waiting for any sign. For the most part, it meant she had to deal with the horrible silence and darkness. She dozed off a few times, but never long enough to feel completely rested. Most of her time was spent sitting quietly and fiddling with her braid, which she had managed to completely unravel by the time the announcements came on.
Rachael kept her head down. The last set of announcements wasn't very pleasant. Naomi had died, killed by Summer Simms. Were they going to have to lie to Miles about that? She wasn't sure if she could keep lying. Michael still didn't know about Daniel, and it hurt her to think that they would keep deluding him about it.
The man on the announcements was different. According to him, no one had died in the last day, so they were going to blow the collars. Rachael shut her eyes really quickly as she heard the first beep. She just hoped they'd get it done quickly. But no more beeps came from the collar. It was all a joke. The terrorists were fooling around with all of them. Rachael slowly opened her eyes and sighed in frustration. This just meant that more of their classmates were dead after all.
The real deaths came in. There were a few notable names and trends. Maximilian Sawyer killed three people in a row. Several people let their collars detonate. They were taking themselves out of the game. Rachael wondered if she should as well. They were four days in, and nothing was getting better sooner.
That's when a particular name came over the intercom. Adonis Alba was dead. They pushed him away from their group, and now he was dead by Joachim Lovelace's hands. More guilt, more regret, more sadness. It was tiring.
The school was safe for now, so Rachael remained in place. The others had to have heard the news, so they'd probably come in soon. That's when she heard some stirring. Miles was awake. He had fallen off the sofa and was lying on the carpet. She slightly raised her head and stared at him. She wasn't sure what she should do. He didn't look like he needed help getting up, but she probably couldn't help him up anyways. He was much heavier than she could handle.
She remained in her seat, waiting to see if he needed assistance. A few tears were falling down her cheeks, so he'd probably assume something bad had happened. But she wasn't ready to say anything yet. Not for a while at least.
Rachael sat in one of the chairs in the teacher's lounge, her head hanging low. The last two days had not been easy for her and her group. They managed to prevent Miles from dying, but he was still on a close watch. They weren't professional doctors, and they had no idea if their efforts would keep Miles alive in the long run. Rachael could hardly approach Miles while they worked, so she kept to the side and watched their supplies.
Now that he was stable, they had taken turns watching over him. It was Rachael's turn, so she sat in the lounge waiting for any sign. For the most part, it meant she had to deal with the horrible silence and darkness. She dozed off a few times, but never long enough to feel completely rested. Most of her time was spent sitting quietly and fiddling with her braid, which she had managed to completely unravel by the time the announcements came on.
Rachael kept her head down. The last set of announcements wasn't very pleasant. Naomi had died, killed by Summer Simms. Were they going to have to lie to Miles about that? She wasn't sure if she could keep lying. Michael still didn't know about Daniel, and it hurt her to think that they would keep deluding him about it.
The man on the announcements was different. According to him, no one had died in the last day, so they were going to blow the collars. Rachael shut her eyes really quickly as she heard the first beep. She just hoped they'd get it done quickly. But no more beeps came from the collar. It was all a joke. The terrorists were fooling around with all of them. Rachael slowly opened her eyes and sighed in frustration. This just meant that more of their classmates were dead after all.
The real deaths came in. There were a few notable names and trends. Maximilian Sawyer killed three people in a row. Several people let their collars detonate. They were taking themselves out of the game. Rachael wondered if she should as well. They were four days in, and nothing was getting better sooner.
That's when a particular name came over the intercom. Adonis Alba was dead. They pushed him away from their group, and now he was dead by Joachim Lovelace's hands. More guilt, more regret, more sadness. It was tiring.
The school was safe for now, so Rachael remained in place. The others had to have heard the news, so they'd probably come in soon. That's when she heard some stirring. Miles was awake. He had fallen off the sofa and was lying on the carpet. She slightly raised her head and stared at him. She wasn't sure what she should do. He didn't look like he needed help getting up, but she probably couldn't help him up anyways. He was much heavier than she could handle.
She remained in her seat, waiting to see if he needed assistance. A few tears were falling down her cheeks, so he'd probably assume something bad had happened. But she wasn't ready to say anything yet. Not for a while at least.
((Stacy Ramsey continued from Stand Your Ground(s)))
Stacy sat on the floor, propping herself up against the wall opposite the teacher's lounge. With her chin on her knees, she thought back to the past couple of days which seemed to have gone by so quickly. After they had patched Miles up on day two, Stacy had told the rest of the group what had happened to Miles. She told them about the incident at the lagoon, about how Kat attacked him and how his kill on Chuck was an accident.
Nothing much happened on day three. After not having any sleep for almost two days, Stacy slept through most of day three, missing the morning announcement. When she awoke, the rest of the group informed her on who had died, which included a lot of her friends, one of which was Miles's cousin Naomi. Stacy warned the group not to tell Miles about Naomi when he woke up. It would probably be for the best if they kept quiet about it for the time being after what he'd been through. They would of course end up telling him about her sooner or later, but it was just a matter of time.
The morning announcement startled Stacy as the voice echoed around the empty school. Her collar began to beep and Stacy panicked. She shot up from the floor and flung her hand over the collar around her neck as she started to breathe heavily. When she was about to call for help, the man's voice rang out from the speakers again, revealing that the beeping collars were just a joke. A sigh of relief escaped Stacy's lips as she relaxed again.
One more of her friends had died according to the announcement. Only four days in and already almost half of her friends on the island had died, and there would be another name added to her list of deceased friends if Miles didn't make it. Not only that, but the other half of friends that were still alive nearly all seemed to be killers.
The announcement finished, and Stacy casually walked into the teacher's lounge where Rachel and an unconscious Miles were. The only thing was, Miles wasn't unconscious anymore, he was awake.
For a brief moment, Stacy just stood there looking at Miles in disbelief. She wondered how long he'd been awake for, which she guessed probably not long as he still looked pretty sleepy. Her eyes then darted to Rachel who was still sat staring at him. She hoped that she hadn't told him about Naomi yet.
"Miles!" Stacy exclaimed. "Guys, Miles is awake." She called to the others in the other room.
Stacy rushed over to Miles with a huge grin on her face, she was pretty confident that he wouldn't kick her in the stomach this time. Flinging her arms around his neck, Stacy pulled herself in close to him, causing the stubble on his face to scrape up against her cheek. She held him tightly for a brief moment before quickly letting go after realising that she could be hurting him. Now grabbing hold of his hands, Stacy stared into his eyes, still smiling.
"Thank god you're okay. How're you feeling?"
Stacy sat on the floor, propping herself up against the wall opposite the teacher's lounge. With her chin on her knees, she thought back to the past couple of days which seemed to have gone by so quickly. After they had patched Miles up on day two, Stacy had told the rest of the group what had happened to Miles. She told them about the incident at the lagoon, about how Kat attacked him and how his kill on Chuck was an accident.
Nothing much happened on day three. After not having any sleep for almost two days, Stacy slept through most of day three, missing the morning announcement. When she awoke, the rest of the group informed her on who had died, which included a lot of her friends, one of which was Miles's cousin Naomi. Stacy warned the group not to tell Miles about Naomi when he woke up. It would probably be for the best if they kept quiet about it for the time being after what he'd been through. They would of course end up telling him about her sooner or later, but it was just a matter of time.
The morning announcement startled Stacy as the voice echoed around the empty school. Her collar began to beep and Stacy panicked. She shot up from the floor and flung her hand over the collar around her neck as she started to breathe heavily. When she was about to call for help, the man's voice rang out from the speakers again, revealing that the beeping collars were just a joke. A sigh of relief escaped Stacy's lips as she relaxed again.
One more of her friends had died according to the announcement. Only four days in and already almost half of her friends on the island had died, and there would be another name added to her list of deceased friends if Miles didn't make it. Not only that, but the other half of friends that were still alive nearly all seemed to be killers.
The announcement finished, and Stacy casually walked into the teacher's lounge where Rachel and an unconscious Miles were. The only thing was, Miles wasn't unconscious anymore, he was awake.
For a brief moment, Stacy just stood there looking at Miles in disbelief. She wondered how long he'd been awake for, which she guessed probably not long as he still looked pretty sleepy. Her eyes then darted to Rachel who was still sat staring at him. She hoped that she hadn't told him about Naomi yet.
"Miles!" Stacy exclaimed. "Guys, Miles is awake." She called to the others in the other room.
Stacy rushed over to Miles with a huge grin on her face, she was pretty confident that he wouldn't kick her in the stomach this time. Flinging her arms around his neck, Stacy pulled herself in close to him, causing the stubble on his face to scrape up against her cheek. She held him tightly for a brief moment before quickly letting go after realising that she could be hurting him. Now grabbing hold of his hands, Stacy stared into his eyes, still smiling.
"Thank god you're okay. How're you feeling?"
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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CondorTalon
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((Corey Esposito continued from Stand Your Ground(s).))
Day Three was... nothing special really. The announcements came and went. The group hung around the annex, taking turns keeping an eye out on Miles, and just trying to get through the day. Corey spent the day talking with Tim and Michael about minor things. There really was nothing else to do, seeing as they couldn't leave before Miles came to. Until then, they just had to hang tight. Corey wondered throughout the day when Miles would be able to move again, but it quickly became clear that, at least for the current day, they weren't going anywhere.
Day Four came.
Corey was in a daze until his collar gave a beep. Corey jolted into lucidity, a sense of panic overtaking his mind until an unfamiliar came and announced it was all a joke.
Corey didn't get it, and it wasn't funny.
With his trance-like state gone, Corey now had no choice but to listen to the rest of the announcement.
"Makatala So'oialo bagged herself two points in the form of Carlon Wheeler and Alex Ripley."
Corey's mind froze.
It took him a while to process what had just happened.
He stood.
Alex is dead.
Grabbing his bag, he took a step. And then another.
Alex was killed.
And again, and again, faster and faster.
Someone killed her.
Then he broke out into a run. He sprinted right out of the building.
He continued to run, not even knowing where he was going. He just had to get away from this fucking situation.
Maybe if he ran far enough, he could convince himself that it hadn't actually happened.
((Corey Esposito continued in This place isn't all it's quacked up to be.))
Day Three was... nothing special really. The announcements came and went. The group hung around the annex, taking turns keeping an eye out on Miles, and just trying to get through the day. Corey spent the day talking with Tim and Michael about minor things. There really was nothing else to do, seeing as they couldn't leave before Miles came to. Until then, they just had to hang tight. Corey wondered throughout the day when Miles would be able to move again, but it quickly became clear that, at least for the current day, they weren't going anywhere.
Day Four came.
Corey was in a daze until his collar gave a beep. Corey jolted into lucidity, a sense of panic overtaking his mind until an unfamiliar came and announced it was all a joke.
Corey didn't get it, and it wasn't funny.
With his trance-like state gone, Corey now had no choice but to listen to the rest of the announcement.
"Makatala So'oialo bagged herself two points in the form of Carlon Wheeler and Alex Ripley."
Corey's mind froze.
It took him a while to process what had just happened.
He stood.
Alex is dead.
Grabbing his bag, he took a step. And then another.
Alex was killed.
And again, and again, faster and faster.
Someone killed her.
Then he broke out into a run. He sprinted right out of the building.
He continued to run, not even knowing where he was going. He just had to get away from this fucking situation.
Maybe if he ran far enough, he could convince himself that it hadn't actually happened.
((Corey Esposito continued in This place isn't all it's quacked up to be.))
((Michael Mitchellson: Continued from Stand Your Gound(s).))
Michael's third day on the island was as uneventful as it could have been when his best friend still was missing and a badly wounded dude had been added to their group. He talked with Corey and Tim, he absently recorded various exciting, badass, and totally true events on his notepad, he worried a whole lot about the fact that their group had spent another day without finding Daniel, hell, without even looking for him.
Not that they had much choice in the situation, given Miles' condition. Michael didn't know the guy, but he was apparently Naomi's cousin, so he was probably an okay dude. Even if he had been an asshole, though, Michael wouldn't have been able to leave him with a clean conscience. This was their chance to actually help someone, after all, to redeem themselves for abandoning the poor bastard at the hospital. Daniel would metaphorically kick Michael's ass down a stairway if he ever got word that Michael had abandoned someone, anyway.
Day Four came, and found Michael standing guard outside the building, keeping an eye out for any stupid motherfuckers who dared to threaten those under the watch of a gunslinging badass with a kickass hat. The faceless legions of evil had wisely decided to leave his group alone for the time being.
The announcement came and went without Michael taking notice. He certainly did notice Corey as he sprinted away from the school, but he was already gone before Michael could even fully process what he was seeing.
A quick glance showed that no one else had followed Corey's example, leaving Michael to conclude that he'd just decided to bolt, and was not in fact fleeing some gruesome, unseen threat. He was tempted to try and chase after him, but he'd already vanished from eyeshot, and without having any idea where he was going, Michael doubted he'd be able to catch up.
I thought we were a team! The fuck is his problem?
Michael couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. He might not have been especially close to Corey, but they'd been in a group together since Michael had woken up in the what field, and Michael had to admit that he'd gotten a little attached to the asshole.
Feeling the best course of action would be to see if any of the others knew what the fuck was going on, Michael headed back to the lounge, where Miles had apparently just woken up. Timing had never been his strong suit.
He wrote, Sorry to kill the moment, but does anyone know why the fuck Corey just ran off like he had the legions of hell at his heels?
Michael's third day on the island was as uneventful as it could have been when his best friend still was missing and a badly wounded dude had been added to their group. He talked with Corey and Tim, he absently recorded various exciting, badass, and totally true events on his notepad, he worried a whole lot about the fact that their group had spent another day without finding Daniel, hell, without even looking for him.
Not that they had much choice in the situation, given Miles' condition. Michael didn't know the guy, but he was apparently Naomi's cousin, so he was probably an okay dude. Even if he had been an asshole, though, Michael wouldn't have been able to leave him with a clean conscience. This was their chance to actually help someone, after all, to redeem themselves for abandoning the poor bastard at the hospital. Daniel would metaphorically kick Michael's ass down a stairway if he ever got word that Michael had abandoned someone, anyway.
Day Four came, and found Michael standing guard outside the building, keeping an eye out for any stupid motherfuckers who dared to threaten those under the watch of a gunslinging badass with a kickass hat. The faceless legions of evil had wisely decided to leave his group alone for the time being.
The announcement came and went without Michael taking notice. He certainly did notice Corey as he sprinted away from the school, but he was already gone before Michael could even fully process what he was seeing.
A quick glance showed that no one else had followed Corey's example, leaving Michael to conclude that he'd just decided to bolt, and was not in fact fleeing some gruesome, unseen threat. He was tempted to try and chase after him, but he'd already vanished from eyeshot, and without having any idea where he was going, Michael doubted he'd be able to catch up.
I thought we were a team! The fuck is his problem?
Michael couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. He might not have been especially close to Corey, but they'd been in a group together since Michael had woken up in the what field, and Michael had to admit that he'd gotten a little attached to the asshole.
Feeling the best course of action would be to see if any of the others knew what the fuck was going on, Michael headed back to the lounge, where Miles had apparently just woken up. Timing had never been his strong suit.
He wrote, Sorry to kill the moment, but does anyone know why the fuck Corey just ran off like he had the legions of hell at his heels?
((Veronica McDonald continued from Up to Eleven))
After a lengthy sprint, Veronica switched to a quick walk in the vague direction she had traveled in. Her legs were aching, but she wasn't planning on stopping now.
The speakers crackled to life, which put that last train of thought to a stop. She rummaged through her bag quickly to make point of her location; she didn't want to be caught in a danger zone. She just pulled it out when she heard the unfamiliar voice announce something that chilled her to the bone.
"...after two promising days, nobody actually managed a kill yesterday. You know what that means."
At that moment, her collar emitted a loud beep. Veronica let out a partially restrained yelp and fell on her knees, clutching her collar.
"Just kidding. Keep up the good work. Here's Danya with our main attraction."
"Fuckers," She muttered under her breath as she stood back up. She picked up the discarded map again and looked up her location. She was between the golf course and the school, apparently. According to the announcements, someone died there too.
"Rutherford Roger Junior rose from the dead and wreaked bloody vengeance upon Lauren Rowe, adding a nice new decoration to the haunted house."
Silence.
The map was again on the ground, the hand holding it was now up to Veronica's mouth. Did she hear that right? Ruth...killed someone?
This revelation made her fall to her knees again. As far as she knew, Ruth was the last person she knew and trusted on the island. Veronica didn't recall any of her friends coming on the trip, and Ruth was pretty much the last. Why did he do it? Self-defense? Panic? Cold blood? She really hoped it was one of the first two.
She picked up the map again once she had regained composure, just in time for danger zones. Several more people died, though she didn't really pay attention. She silently mourned the unheard deaths as she assessed her position. Luckily, nothing near her was a danger zone at this point. Once the speakers had died down, she continued her brisk walk, this time in a more purposed way.
Finally she arrived at the school. She figured that she'd stop here, since it was the closest. Veronica did hear that Yasmin died here, though; that was a shame.
She stepped foot into the parking lot, though something felt off. Before she could contemplate, though, she heard voices in the distance.
People.
After a lengthy sprint, Veronica switched to a quick walk in the vague direction she had traveled in. Her legs were aching, but she wasn't planning on stopping now.
The speakers crackled to life, which put that last train of thought to a stop. She rummaged through her bag quickly to make point of her location; she didn't want to be caught in a danger zone. She just pulled it out when she heard the unfamiliar voice announce something that chilled her to the bone.
"...after two promising days, nobody actually managed a kill yesterday. You know what that means."
At that moment, her collar emitted a loud beep. Veronica let out a partially restrained yelp and fell on her knees, clutching her collar.
"Just kidding. Keep up the good work. Here's Danya with our main attraction."
"Fuckers," She muttered under her breath as she stood back up. She picked up the discarded map again and looked up her location. She was between the golf course and the school, apparently. According to the announcements, someone died there too.
"Rutherford Roger Junior rose from the dead and wreaked bloody vengeance upon Lauren Rowe, adding a nice new decoration to the haunted house."
Silence.
The map was again on the ground, the hand holding it was now up to Veronica's mouth. Did she hear that right? Ruth...killed someone?
This revelation made her fall to her knees again. As far as she knew, Ruth was the last person she knew and trusted on the island. Veronica didn't recall any of her friends coming on the trip, and Ruth was pretty much the last. Why did he do it? Self-defense? Panic? Cold blood? She really hoped it was one of the first two.
She picked up the map again once she had regained composure, just in time for danger zones. Several more people died, though she didn't really pay attention. She silently mourned the unheard deaths as she assessed her position. Luckily, nothing near her was a danger zone at this point. Once the speakers had died down, she continued her brisk walk, this time in a more purposed way.
Finally she arrived at the school. She figured that she'd stop here, since it was the closest. Veronica did hear that Yasmin died here, though; that was a shame.
She stepped foot into the parking lot, though something felt off. Before she could contemplate, though, she heard voices in the distance.
People.
((James Wade continued from Burnout))
James was starting to get annoyed.
He'd been walking for a while now, wandering aimlessly in his search for others. Yet he hadn't seen a single person. Not one. Since he had run away from Alda and the others last night he'd been completely alone. Not that this was anything out of the ordinary as he'd never really had many friends at school, but back then most people weren't trying to murder him and take his stuff. James still clutched his useless weapon, the Clue board game that had brought their little group together the other night.
As he trudged through the tall grass, a number of buildings came into view. Finally! James pushed his long hair back out of his face and made his way forwards, keeping an eye out for any signs of life.
It was a school.
Wonderful. He sighed and took a few steps forward, adjusting his glasses as he did so. The place had obviously been abandoned for a while, though it wasn't completely overgrown. There were a few buses sitting in what had once been a parking lot, though he doubted that they worked. As he looked around at the buildings, a few ideas came to mind. I could try and hole up here for a while, barricade a room with desks and let everyone else kill each other. He spent a few seconds mulling that one over before shaking his head; this place could quickly become a danger zone and he'd be dead in minutes.
James stood on the outskirts of the school buildings for a few minutes, trying to work up the courage to go in. On one hand, he'd have shelter and there might be friendly people inside. On the other hand, there might be one of his murderous peers waiting there with a machine gun. He was about to turn round and head off when he caught a flash of movement out the corner of his eye.
A person.
While James hadn't exactly been great at approaching people in the past, now he was jumpy enough to run away if the girl over there so much as looked at him the wrong way. He took a deep breath, and took a couple of steps forward. Okay, make sure you're not a threat. No heroic speeches, just a friendly hello. James walked out into the open and called out, giving a half-hearted wave.
"Hey!"
James was starting to get annoyed.
He'd been walking for a while now, wandering aimlessly in his search for others. Yet he hadn't seen a single person. Not one. Since he had run away from Alda and the others last night he'd been completely alone. Not that this was anything out of the ordinary as he'd never really had many friends at school, but back then most people weren't trying to murder him and take his stuff. James still clutched his useless weapon, the Clue board game that had brought their little group together the other night.
As he trudged through the tall grass, a number of buildings came into view. Finally! James pushed his long hair back out of his face and made his way forwards, keeping an eye out for any signs of life.
It was a school.
Wonderful. He sighed and took a few steps forward, adjusting his glasses as he did so. The place had obviously been abandoned for a while, though it wasn't completely overgrown. There were a few buses sitting in what had once been a parking lot, though he doubted that they worked. As he looked around at the buildings, a few ideas came to mind. I could try and hole up here for a while, barricade a room with desks and let everyone else kill each other. He spent a few seconds mulling that one over before shaking his head; this place could quickly become a danger zone and he'd be dead in minutes.
James stood on the outskirts of the school buildings for a few minutes, trying to work up the courage to go in. On one hand, he'd have shelter and there might be friendly people inside. On the other hand, there might be one of his murderous peers waiting there with a machine gun. He was about to turn round and head off when he caught a flash of movement out the corner of his eye.
A person.
While James hadn't exactly been great at approaching people in the past, now he was jumpy enough to run away if the girl over there so much as looked at him the wrong way. He took a deep breath, and took a couple of steps forward. Okay, make sure you're not a threat. No heroic speeches, just a friendly hello. James walked out into the open and called out, giving a half-hearted wave.
"Hey!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LordB. 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.
((Timothy Abrams continued from Stand Your Ground(s)))
Timothy sighed, exhausted. As he sat on the floor with his head in his hands, he contemplated the events of the previous days. He had barely gotten any sleep the previous night, and he felt as if he could collapse any moment. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before returning them to his face and standing up.
As if on cue, the speakers crackled with that morning's announcements. His exhaustion made it hard to concentrate on the words being spoken. However, one part jumped out at him. Joachim had killed again. There was no doubt about it now. His best friend was playing.
Why? It was all Timothy could do to keep himself from shouting. You'd thinking that being friends since kindergarten would make you really know a guy, yet Joachim was seeming more and more of a stranger to him.
As the announcements finished, Timothy stood with new resolve. This island ruined people, and it was his obligation to prevent it from doing the same to his companions. No matter what happened, he would see them out of here, even if he had to burn the whole island to the ground to do it.
This confidence was quickly shaken by Corey's hasty departure. Timothy's heart sank as he watched the other boy leave. He couldn't go after him, not with Rachael and Mike still here. He knew the other two far better anyway, so it would be the logical option to stay with then.
Still...
Timothy's eyes burned as he tried to keep himself from showing his distress. They had only spent a short time together, but he had really grown to like Corey. He couldn't help but feel responsible for him, and watching the other boy run straight into certain death was not at all a pleasant experience. Hopefully the other two were sensible enough to stick around.
Timothy sighed, exhausted. As he sat on the floor with his head in his hands, he contemplated the events of the previous days. He had barely gotten any sleep the previous night, and he felt as if he could collapse any moment. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before returning them to his face and standing up.
As if on cue, the speakers crackled with that morning's announcements. His exhaustion made it hard to concentrate on the words being spoken. However, one part jumped out at him. Joachim had killed again. There was no doubt about it now. His best friend was playing.
Why? It was all Timothy could do to keep himself from shouting. You'd thinking that being friends since kindergarten would make you really know a guy, yet Joachim was seeming more and more of a stranger to him.
As the announcements finished, Timothy stood with new resolve. This island ruined people, and it was his obligation to prevent it from doing the same to his companions. No matter what happened, he would see them out of here, even if he had to burn the whole island to the ground to do it.
This confidence was quickly shaken by Corey's hasty departure. Timothy's heart sank as he watched the other boy leave. He couldn't go after him, not with Rachael and Mike still here. He knew the other two far better anyway, so it would be the logical option to stay with then.
Still...
Timothy's eyes burned as he tried to keep himself from showing his distress. They had only spent a short time together, but he had really grown to like Corey. He couldn't help but feel responsible for him, and watching the other boy run straight into certain death was not at all a pleasant experience. Hopefully the other two were sensible enough to stick around.
((Activity timer is almost up and I need to skip))
Rachael remained in place as Stacy ran into the room to check on Miles. She wondered if Stacy and Miles were really close considering how Stacy threw herself around him. It must have felt really nice to be held like that. She wished she was as close to someone like they were.
You could have been close to Daniel.
Rachael's head sunk low. She didn't want to think of that right now. Miles was alive, although he probably needed to be careful for a while. They still had a large group forming, and surely they could figure out what to do next.
That was ruined when Michael ran in. He showed the group a piece of paper explaining that Corey had run off. Rachael put her face in her hands. Why did Corey run away? Was there something about the announcements that prompted his hasty exit? She wasn't sure. All it meant was that one of her companions was gone.
I'm going to lose everything and everyone here. It's only a matter of time before I'm all alone.
Rachael remained in place as Stacy ran into the room to check on Miles. She wondered if Stacy and Miles were really close considering how Stacy threw herself around him. It must have felt really nice to be held like that. She wished she was as close to someone like they were.
You could have been close to Daniel.
Rachael's head sunk low. She didn't want to think of that right now. Miles was alive, although he probably needed to be careful for a while. They still had a large group forming, and surely they could figure out what to do next.
That was ruined when Michael ran in. He showed the group a piece of paper explaining that Corey had run off. Rachael put her face in her hands. Why did Corey run away? Was there something about the announcements that prompted his hasty exit? She wasn't sure. All it meant was that one of her companions was gone.
I'm going to lose everything and everyone here. It's only a matter of time before I'm all alone.
((Skipping for the same reason as Laurels))
After Stacy had asked Miles how he was feeling, Michael walked in. He was holding a piece of paper which he then showed to Rachael. She saw Rachael cover her face with her hands in response to reading it; it must have been something bad.
The smile on Stacy's face began to fade as her eye's flicked between Michael, Rachael and the note. Letting go of Miles's hands, Stacy stood up straight and turned towards Michael and Rachel.
"What? What is it, what's it say?"
After Stacy had asked Miles how he was feeling, Michael walked in. He was holding a piece of paper which he then showed to Rachael. She saw Rachael cover her face with her hands in response to reading it; it must have been something bad.
The smile on Stacy's face began to fade as her eye's flicked between Michael, Rachael and the note. Letting go of Miles's hands, Stacy stood up straight and turned towards Michael and Rachel.
"What? What is it, what's it say?"
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.
"It says: Sorry to kill the moment, but does anyone know why the -ehem-... fuck, Corey just ran off like he had the legions of hell at his heels."
(A few minutes earlier)
What the heck was with Miss Stacy Ramsey assaulting his eardrums with these yells and ninja-like-bear-hugs out of nowhere? Off darn it. Stabbed remember? No touchy the merchandise-y.
Luckily the tightest part of her squeeze only lasted about a few seconds before she loosened up on her death grip around his bandaged body. Still hurt though, especially around the pelvis region for some reason. Miles almost wanted to use his palms to push her back and tell her off when he remembered something from back at the beach.
Despite him shoving her to the ground and field-goal kicking her in the gut while she was down, it was Stacy who allowed him to get away from the lagoon, away from that maniac Kat using her shotgun after the accident with Chuck.
Thinking back, Miles was pretty pissed about that.
Now that he wasn't currently in fear, fighting for his life in an adrenaline filled confrontation after the death of a classmate, it was easy to re-direct his anger. Okay, so instead of listening to reason because you don't know and you didn't see what the f-e-c-k happened, the first thing you do is make assumptions and stab someone near the kidneys like some kind of Cuban gangster and nearly kill the guy. That's what any normal, sane person would do. Of course, Kat, of course.
Seriously, seriously? Unbelievably ignorant bitch.
Did she know who she was messing with? He is Miles Strickland, his mother is what you call a "States Attorney" and his father is owner of a powerul law firm. He'd sue if they ever got out of here.
If.
Oh hell, now he was depressed again - but at least he was with people this time, people he felt he could trust, hopefully. They did help patch him up after all right. Maybe they learned about what he apparently did, but they kept him around and not tried to execute him like Kat attempted to do, so it was a pretty good sign.
In contrast to Kat, Stacy seemed to have understood and forgave him, by the odd affection she was showing. It was a little awkward considering she was one of his ex-'s, but it was better than the alternative in this scenario. Miles had been voicing his thanks in his mind, but hadn't done so out-loud, using just his look to express that gratitude.
That was when the door of the lounge flew open a second time loudly, ironically by that "deaf kid" from school. Immediately after thinking that, Miles felt like a jerk because the kid must have been one of the guys who helped him. No, Michael, he'd call him Michael. Miles looked around some more observing the rest of the group.
Rachel, Timothy. Both were wallflowers, but Tim had stepped up and helped him for however long he was out. Both looked especially distressed when Michael's note was brought up.
"It says: Sorry to kill the moment, but does anyone know why the -ehem-... fuck, Corey just ran off like he had the legions of hell at his heels," Miles finally spoke.
"Asking the deaf kid, Stacy? That's smart."
Dammit. Michael - I meant Michael.
"No offense." Miles continued, but then realized the kid couldn't hear him too. Miles smirked slightly, amused at Michael's comment though. But that changed when the message sank in.
"Wait a minute. Corey? Ran off? What do you mean he ran off? That is so stupid." Miles was a bit flabbergasted maybe even a little annoyed. The crinkles near his eyes and eyebrows showed that much.
He knew who that was, sort of. Miles didn't really 'know-know' the guy, because the kid was kind of a wallflower too, but he knew a few Corey's from school, and recalled seeing the face of one of those Corey's' belonging to one of the main guys who tended to him right before he completely blacked out. The little hall-rat had a good group here, why the heck did he run off?
"What an idiot. It's freaking dangerous out there alone, doesn't he know that. Hello – I got knifed remember. Dumb ass. Someone should go after him." Miles voice was a mixture of sing-song, snark, and irritation with raising pitch. Maybe Miles was being more blunt and honest than usual, but he hardly noticed.
For the first time in days, Miles stood up and he immediately regretted it.
It felt like one of those days where he was bed-ridden with some super-flu and tried to get up. Yeah, that was not happening.
Those tiny little stars covered his entire vision. Both body and mind felt like they were swaying back and forth in opposite directions, the world itself, too was swaying. His legs wobbled and he moved to find a spot to steady himself and he almost felt like vomiting.
When the stars dissipated he found himself resting his face over his forearms, which themselves had been resting on a window sill within the lounge.
Miles lifted the blinds slightly, to peer outside at the parking lot near the cafeteria. There were two people outside, but he ignored them. A blanket of thick clouds were covering the sky, turning everything gray. It was going to rain soon and that Corey guy was going to suffer for it. He pulled the blind back down.
Truth is he just wanted to make sure he could thank the guy along with the rest of them.
(A few minutes earlier)
What the heck was with Miss Stacy Ramsey assaulting his eardrums with these yells and ninja-like-bear-hugs out of nowhere? Off darn it. Stabbed remember? No touchy the merchandise-y.
Luckily the tightest part of her squeeze only lasted about a few seconds before she loosened up on her death grip around his bandaged body. Still hurt though, especially around the pelvis region for some reason. Miles almost wanted to use his palms to push her back and tell her off when he remembered something from back at the beach.
Despite him shoving her to the ground and field-goal kicking her in the gut while she was down, it was Stacy who allowed him to get away from the lagoon, away from that maniac Kat using her shotgun after the accident with Chuck.
Thinking back, Miles was pretty pissed about that.
Now that he wasn't currently in fear, fighting for his life in an adrenaline filled confrontation after the death of a classmate, it was easy to re-direct his anger. Okay, so instead of listening to reason because you don't know and you didn't see what the f-e-c-k happened, the first thing you do is make assumptions and stab someone near the kidneys like some kind of Cuban gangster and nearly kill the guy. That's what any normal, sane person would do. Of course, Kat, of course.
Seriously, seriously? Unbelievably ignorant bitch.
Did she know who she was messing with? He is Miles Strickland, his mother is what you call a "States Attorney" and his father is owner of a powerul law firm. He'd sue if they ever got out of here.
If.
Oh hell, now he was depressed again - but at least he was with people this time, people he felt he could trust, hopefully. They did help patch him up after all right. Maybe they learned about what he apparently did, but they kept him around and not tried to execute him like Kat attempted to do, so it was a pretty good sign.
In contrast to Kat, Stacy seemed to have understood and forgave him, by the odd affection she was showing. It was a little awkward considering she was one of his ex-'s, but it was better than the alternative in this scenario. Miles had been voicing his thanks in his mind, but hadn't done so out-loud, using just his look to express that gratitude.
That was when the door of the lounge flew open a second time loudly, ironically by that "deaf kid" from school. Immediately after thinking that, Miles felt like a jerk because the kid must have been one of the guys who helped him. No, Michael, he'd call him Michael. Miles looked around some more observing the rest of the group.
Rachel, Timothy. Both were wallflowers, but Tim had stepped up and helped him for however long he was out. Both looked especially distressed when Michael's note was brought up.
"It says: Sorry to kill the moment, but does anyone know why the -ehem-... fuck, Corey just ran off like he had the legions of hell at his heels," Miles finally spoke.
"Asking the deaf kid, Stacy? That's smart."
Dammit. Michael - I meant Michael.
"No offense." Miles continued, but then realized the kid couldn't hear him too. Miles smirked slightly, amused at Michael's comment though. But that changed when the message sank in.
"Wait a minute. Corey? Ran off? What do you mean he ran off? That is so stupid." Miles was a bit flabbergasted maybe even a little annoyed. The crinkles near his eyes and eyebrows showed that much.
He knew who that was, sort of. Miles didn't really 'know-know' the guy, because the kid was kind of a wallflower too, but he knew a few Corey's from school, and recalled seeing the face of one of those Corey's' belonging to one of the main guys who tended to him right before he completely blacked out. The little hall-rat had a good group here, why the heck did he run off?
"What an idiot. It's freaking dangerous out there alone, doesn't he know that. Hello – I got knifed remember. Dumb ass. Someone should go after him." Miles voice was a mixture of sing-song, snark, and irritation with raising pitch. Maybe Miles was being more blunt and honest than usual, but he hardly noticed.
For the first time in days, Miles stood up and he immediately regretted it.
It felt like one of those days where he was bed-ridden with some super-flu and tried to get up. Yeah, that was not happening.
Those tiny little stars covered his entire vision. Both body and mind felt like they were swaying back and forth in opposite directions, the world itself, too was swaying. His legs wobbled and he moved to find a spot to steady himself and he almost felt like vomiting.
When the stars dissipated he found himself resting his face over his forearms, which themselves had been resting on a window sill within the lounge.
Miles lifted the blinds slightly, to peer outside at the parking lot near the cafeteria. There were two people outside, but he ignored them. A blanket of thick clouds were covering the sky, turning everything gray. It was going to rain soon and that Corey guy was going to suffer for it. He pulled the blind back down.
Truth is he just wanted to make sure he could thank the guy along with the rest of them.
...Fuck, that could have been timed better.
Not that Michael had much choice in the matter, but it was still incredibly depressing to see Rachael and Tim just sort of slump. Michael figured that they must be feeling pretty much the same as him at the moment. Even worse was the confirmation that there hadn't been any good reason for Corey's departure, the asshole had just decided to bug out.
On the bright side, Miles did indeed seem to be pretty a-okay, though the poor bastard still couldn't stand. It was still very reassuring that all their efforts had done some good, that their badass basic medical skills had managed to save a life.
The relief brought by this was short-lived, however, as Michael glanced out the window and saw two figures out by the parking lot, though he couldn't see them too clearly from where he was. Christ, the second Michael left his post, a bunch of assholes came flooding in. Hopefully, relatively benign assholes.
Michael hurriedly wrote a new note. Shit, we've got company, do you guys have any idea how to deal with this?
Not that Michael had much choice in the matter, but it was still incredibly depressing to see Rachael and Tim just sort of slump. Michael figured that they must be feeling pretty much the same as him at the moment. Even worse was the confirmation that there hadn't been any good reason for Corey's departure, the asshole had just decided to bug out.
On the bright side, Miles did indeed seem to be pretty a-okay, though the poor bastard still couldn't stand. It was still very reassuring that all their efforts had done some good, that their badass basic medical skills had managed to save a life.
The relief brought by this was short-lived, however, as Michael glanced out the window and saw two figures out by the parking lot, though he couldn't see them too clearly from where he was. Christ, the second Michael left his post, a bunch of assholes came flooding in. Hopefully, relatively benign assholes.
Michael hurriedly wrote a new note. Shit, we've got company, do you guys have any idea how to deal with this?
"Hey!"
Veronica tensed up and involuntarily held out her tire iron in an attempt to defend herself. She looked around wildly before spotting a boy not too far away; he didn't look too intimidating or much of a threat. In fact, he was rather plain and the type of person Veronica wouldn't distingusih from a crowd. His long curly hair, though, made her recognize him from passing him in the hallways and probably some class long ago. His name was still a mystery, though.
Still clutching the tire iron, she replied with a "Hey." back. Her voice was much more hoarser than she expected it to be, and Veronica came off a little colder and defensive than usual. She eyed the boy with suspicion.
"So, uh, what's your name?" She asked, with lack of anything better to say. There were certainly other people here besides this kid, so Veronica had to keep her guard.
In the mean time, though, she had to deal with him.
Veronica tensed up and involuntarily held out her tire iron in an attempt to defend herself. She looked around wildly before spotting a boy not too far away; he didn't look too intimidating or much of a threat. In fact, he was rather plain and the type of person Veronica wouldn't distingusih from a crowd. His long curly hair, though, made her recognize him from passing him in the hallways and probably some class long ago. His name was still a mystery, though.
Still clutching the tire iron, she replied with a "Hey." back. Her voice was much more hoarser than she expected it to be, and Veronica came off a little colder and defensive than usual. She eyed the boy with suspicion.
"So, uh, what's your name?" She asked, with lack of anything better to say. There were certainly other people here besides this kid, so Veronica had to keep her guard.
In the mean time, though, she had to deal with him.
"So, uh, what's your name?"
James paused for a second. The girl in front of him was armed, so he'd have to keep an eye on her. At least she wasn't outright threatening to murder him like the last group he'd run into. She seemed vaguely familiar, though he couldn't quite remember her name. Still, his slightly weathered Clue box wouldn't do anything in a fight and he really didn't want to spend another night sleeping in a field.
"I'm James."
He took a couple of steps forward before halting. He didn't want to come across as intimidating or anything else that might spook this girl into running away - or worse, attacking. The fact that he was holding a battered board game box in one hand would hopefully make him seem like less of a threat. James pushed his hair back a little before speaking.
"Don't worry, I'm not looking for any trouble. What's your name?"
Just keeping things friendly, nothing wrong with that. James glanced to the side, hoping that she wouldn't be annoyed that he didn't know her. There were definitely others about.
James paused for a second. The girl in front of him was armed, so he'd have to keep an eye on her. At least she wasn't outright threatening to murder him like the last group he'd run into. She seemed vaguely familiar, though he couldn't quite remember her name. Still, his slightly weathered Clue box wouldn't do anything in a fight and he really didn't want to spend another night sleeping in a field.
"I'm James."
He took a couple of steps forward before halting. He didn't want to come across as intimidating or anything else that might spook this girl into running away - or worse, attacking. The fact that he was holding a battered board game box in one hand would hopefully make him seem like less of a threat. James pushed his hair back a little before speaking.
"Don't worry, I'm not looking for any trouble. What's your name?"
Just keeping things friendly, nothing wrong with that. James glanced to the side, hoping that she wouldn't be annoyed that he didn't know her. There were definitely others about.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LordB. 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.
((Mild GMing Approved))
Timothy sighed as he read the Michael's note. The last thing that they needed were more people. Hell, they had already gotten involved with too many others. It wasn't like they could justify just leaving Miles to die, but this was different. They had to be pragmatic here. Expanding the group would cause more problems than benefits. Aside from the difficulties of movement, it would be nearly impossible to ensure unity in decision making. In large groups, factions were nearly inevitable, and they couldn't afford to bicker with each other. Of course he would love to save everyone, but the fact remained that he couldn't. He wouldn't risk losing the whole group just for the sake of emotion.
Timothy closed his eyes for a moment. Their best bet would be for what remained of the original group to set off on their own, maybe after Corey. He knew that he could trust Michael and Rachael, and he hadn't had any problems with Corey, but he just couldn't justify sticking with the others. He had to get out of here before the others got too attached to the newcomers.
There. That was a plan, at least. Now he just needed to put it into action. He took the notepad from Michael and wrote in it before handing it back.
We can't afford to deal with any more new people. You, me and Rachael should go after Corey, make sure he's okay. The others here look like they can take care of themselves.
Timothy sighed as he read the Michael's note. The last thing that they needed were more people. Hell, they had already gotten involved with too many others. It wasn't like they could justify just leaving Miles to die, but this was different. They had to be pragmatic here. Expanding the group would cause more problems than benefits. Aside from the difficulties of movement, it would be nearly impossible to ensure unity in decision making. In large groups, factions were nearly inevitable, and they couldn't afford to bicker with each other. Of course he would love to save everyone, but the fact remained that he couldn't. He wouldn't risk losing the whole group just for the sake of emotion.
Timothy closed his eyes for a moment. Their best bet would be for what remained of the original group to set off on their own, maybe after Corey. He knew that he could trust Michael and Rachael, and he hadn't had any problems with Corey, but he just couldn't justify sticking with the others. He had to get out of here before the others got too attached to the newcomers.
There. That was a plan, at least. Now he just needed to put it into action. He took the notepad from Michael and wrote in it before handing it back.
We can't afford to deal with any more new people. You, me and Rachael should go after Corey, make sure he's okay. The others here look like they can take care of themselves.