((B020: Joe Carrasco – START))
For a cruel moment, Joe had woken up in a hospital and thought he'd been rescued. That it had been a dream and the plane had crashed but that they'd been rescued and they were probably hurt but they weren't dead and they certainly weren't expected to fight. But that hadn't lasted long. Largely because he was in a children's ward and someone had just left him on the floor, surrounded by old, broken toys.
Now Joe was curled up against one of the empty cribs. Tears were pouring onto the old sheets of the bed, and his face was sticky with mucus. He was sobbing still, his breath coming out in harsh gasps as he did so. He was clinging to his weapon like it was life itself. Which it wasn't, because no-one could fight off someone with a gun with a dressage whip. Least of all a skinny nerd who was afraid of blood to begin with—
Oh god, Mr. Davidge, oh god, oh god, oh god—
He didn't remember that dark room so clearly. He remembered blood. Lots of it. And then he'd gotten dizzy and hovered on passing out for a while. All he remembered clearly, besides the blood and the declaration of where they were, was the tape.
Joe had seen Survival of the Fittest before, as part of his attempts at immersion therapy. If he watched bloody footage, then he'd be better at dealing with it, and Survival of the Fittest... what was bloodier than that? If he could deal with that, he could deal with anything.
It didn't take him long to turn off the clip of some nutter covering a garden with bodies. He'd spent the next few minutes vomiting and the next few weeks having nightmares and being reminded of it at horrible times. He'd never watched SotF again, but he'd expected a clip like it, and been determined to shut his eyes.
But he'd opened them. And it hadn't been gory at all. And he'd been even more terrified of it than he had of the garden nutter. Because the idea that best friends could end up smothering each other to death... He would never smother Travis, no matter how much the guy irritated him at times!
Oh god, he's here too, oh god, oh god...
Travis and Chuck and Gabby and Marcus and... and... oh god, all his friends were here, too.
Joe couldn't stop crying. Every time he tried he thought about where he was and he started crying harder. They were all dead. All of them but one, and... and he wouldn't be that one. He didn't even want to be. He couldn't kill. He couldn't do that to someone, even if he had a rocket launcher! He... just... couldn't...
Joe hid his face in his arms and continued sobbing.
In Situ
B020 - Start
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ViolentMedic
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Jason was having a rather nice dream, at least until he was elbowed in the face.
There was screaming and a gunshot, and he vaguely recognized a dead body on stage. The girl who elbowed him was crying, and there was another gunshot as the crowd settled down.
Then a man came out, and said something about Survival of the Fittest...
B033, Jason Meyers: START
Three thoughts ran through his head as Jason woke up.
One: Note to self; never wait until 4 am the day of the trip to pack.
Two: Note to self; also never try to revive yourself with a caffeinated drink.
Three: Where's that crying coming from?
Jason sat up and groaned. He was lying on a hospital bed, in a room reminiscent of one he stayed in at age seven. A room covered in colorful crayon drawings, with some toys littered around. It was definitely sometime during the day, and he wondered if this was all an elaborate prank. Leaving him in a hospital was somewhat of a stretch, but it was the type of thing his classmates would do.
But something was...unsettling.
There was no hustle and bustle, only the crying. Upon closer inspection, the drawings were faded and the walls cracked. The window was missing, and it seemed oddly...jaded. Mr. Davidge would've probably noticed a group of students carrying another one into an abandoned hospital....
Oh shit, Mr. Davidge!
A clearer version of the event flooded his mind. Mr. Davidge was dead, and they were part of a death game. They watch two best friends from the last one kill each other, and they were to do the same. He couldn't bring himself to kill someone like Cassidy, Owen or Harry...or picture them killing either.
Collecting his thoughts, he had one objective: live as long as possible. He would certainly end up dead sooner or later, but later sounded better. He scanned the room and found his bag sitting under the bed. He assessed his inventory and weapon, emptying the latter of bullets and keeping it clearly visible, gripped in his left hand. If animals can appear dangerous to avoid others, why can't he?
He poked his head out of the room and stepped out into the hallway once he realized the coast was clear. He began to head for the crying, hoping to find an ally. He entered a room filled with cribs, one with a boy curled up under it.
"Hey."
There was screaming and a gunshot, and he vaguely recognized a dead body on stage. The girl who elbowed him was crying, and there was another gunshot as the crowd settled down.
Then a man came out, and said something about Survival of the Fittest...
B033, Jason Meyers: START
Three thoughts ran through his head as Jason woke up.
One: Note to self; never wait until 4 am the day of the trip to pack.
Two: Note to self; also never try to revive yourself with a caffeinated drink.
Three: Where's that crying coming from?
Jason sat up and groaned. He was lying on a hospital bed, in a room reminiscent of one he stayed in at age seven. A room covered in colorful crayon drawings, with some toys littered around. It was definitely sometime during the day, and he wondered if this was all an elaborate prank. Leaving him in a hospital was somewhat of a stretch, but it was the type of thing his classmates would do.
But something was...unsettling.
There was no hustle and bustle, only the crying. Upon closer inspection, the drawings were faded and the walls cracked. The window was missing, and it seemed oddly...jaded. Mr. Davidge would've probably noticed a group of students carrying another one into an abandoned hospital....
Oh shit, Mr. Davidge!
A clearer version of the event flooded his mind. Mr. Davidge was dead, and they were part of a death game. They watch two best friends from the last one kill each other, and they were to do the same. He couldn't bring himself to kill someone like Cassidy, Owen or Harry...or picture them killing either.
Collecting his thoughts, he had one objective: live as long as possible. He would certainly end up dead sooner or later, but later sounded better. He scanned the room and found his bag sitting under the bed. He assessed his inventory and weapon, emptying the latter of bullets and keeping it clearly visible, gripped in his left hand. If animals can appear dangerous to avoid others, why can't he?
He poked his head out of the room and stepped out into the hallway once he realized the coast was clear. He began to head for the crying, hoping to find an ally. He entered a room filled with cribs, one with a boy curled up under it.
"Hey."
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Courtography
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(G013: Jessica Murphy: START)
Jessica was never more thankful to have woken up in a bathroom than this point in time. Her instant reaction to waking up was nausea and the dry and abandoned toilet was the perfect solution.
There was a headache pounding behind her temples and none of it, the burning in her throat, the taste of bile, or the smell coming from the toilet in front of her and her shirt, were helping.
She covered her face with her hands for a moment, trying to block her nose from the horrendous smell. She felt weak, her tongue felt dry and burning. Her mind tried to wrap around the idea that puking wasn't the worst of her problems, but the thought felt so strange and abstract compared to the bite of acid in her throat.
Another wave of nausea hit her and more bile was gagged into the toilet bowl. It reminded her of when she had the flu when she was thirteen. Only then her mom had taken a few days off of work to help her. Here there was just her.
Oh frick.
The next round of spewing was from the memory of Mr. Davidge getting shot that was resurfacing. All that blood, and the man who laughed, it was awful.
Her stomach quieted, perhaps there being no bile left to throw up. She felt parched, although that may have just been due to the vomiting. She saw a bag a short distance from her.
Water...
She made it to the bag, crawling over a sledgehammer to make it there. She wondered briefly why there was a hammer in a bathroom, but couldn't work herself up to care about it. Right at the top of the bag was a bottle of water. She weakly opened it and took a few swallows.
The terrible taste faded, her headache was slightly less intense. She still felt weak.
She would drink some more in a minute.
She rested back against the tiled wall.
So much worse than Disneyland...
Jessica was never more thankful to have woken up in a bathroom than this point in time. Her instant reaction to waking up was nausea and the dry and abandoned toilet was the perfect solution.
There was a headache pounding behind her temples and none of it, the burning in her throat, the taste of bile, or the smell coming from the toilet in front of her and her shirt, were helping.
She covered her face with her hands for a moment, trying to block her nose from the horrendous smell. She felt weak, her tongue felt dry and burning. Her mind tried to wrap around the idea that puking wasn't the worst of her problems, but the thought felt so strange and abstract compared to the bite of acid in her throat.
Another wave of nausea hit her and more bile was gagged into the toilet bowl. It reminded her of when she had the flu when she was thirteen. Only then her mom had taken a few days off of work to help her. Here there was just her.
Oh frick.
The next round of spewing was from the memory of Mr. Davidge getting shot that was resurfacing. All that blood, and the man who laughed, it was awful.
Her stomach quieted, perhaps there being no bile left to throw up. She felt parched, although that may have just been due to the vomiting. She saw a bag a short distance from her.
Water...
She made it to the bag, crawling over a sledgehammer to make it there. She wondered briefly why there was a hammer in a bathroom, but couldn't work herself up to care about it. Right at the top of the bag was a bottle of water. She weakly opened it and took a few swallows.
The terrible taste faded, her headache was slightly less intense. She still felt weak.
She would drink some more in a minute.
She rested back against the tiled wall.
So much worse than Disneyland...
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ViolentMedic
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A voice broke Joe out of his constant cycle of trying to stop crying and only managing to cry harder. Joe lifted his head to see a guy standing in the room with him. He couldn't match up the boy's name with his face--normal for him, he recognized voices and names put together better since he spent so much time looking down--but he at least wasn't someone who stuck out as mean or violent or anything scary. Joe raised his hand jerkily in what was his attempt at a casual wave when he saw the gun.
He froze, hand still in the air doing a nervous mockery of a wave, while on the inside he started shrieking. He was going to get shot. He was going to get shot and it'd hurt and there'd be blood everywhere and he'd die, just like Mr. Davidge.
Running wasn't an option. He'd get shot if he tried. Fighting wasn't an option. He had a dressage whip and he didn't want to hurt anyone. So he stared at the gun and didn't move.
He found it hard to breathe rather suddenly.
Joe let out a strangled grunt that was meant to be a plea for mercy, before barely choking out the words "D-Don't shuh... shuh... shoot." Still frozen in a position of casual waving.
He froze, hand still in the air doing a nervous mockery of a wave, while on the inside he started shrieking. He was going to get shot. He was going to get shot and it'd hurt and there'd be blood everywhere and he'd die, just like Mr. Davidge.
Running wasn't an option. He'd get shot if he tried. Fighting wasn't an option. He had a dressage whip and he didn't want to hurt anyone. So he stared at the gun and didn't move.
He found it hard to breathe rather suddenly.
Joe let out a strangled grunt that was meant to be a plea for mercy, before barely choking out the words "D-Don't shuh... shuh... shoot." Still frozen in a position of casual waving.
Huh? Oh, the gun.
Jason snickered, but instantly stopped as it could be perceived as evil laughter. He looked down at the kid he now knew as Joe and smiled.
"Naw, man, the gun's empty. See?" He pointed it at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Only clicks. Pointed it at the wall. Only clicks.
Hoping that it had calmed the boy, Jason explained. "Y'see, if people see me with this, they'll assume me hostile and won't attack. Like those animals that look like poisonous animals or have markings that indicate poison without being poisonous to avoid predators. If animals can't do it, why can't I?"
He held out his hand to Joe. "Oh, if you don't know me, my name is Jason. You need help up?"
Inwardly, Jason hoped for an alliance. Safety in numbers seemed like a pretty good saying to go by in these times and circumstances. Not only would they all have people to trust, it was also protection and maybe even information.
This could be the start of something beautiful.
Jason snickered, but instantly stopped as it could be perceived as evil laughter. He looked down at the kid he now knew as Joe and smiled.
"Naw, man, the gun's empty. See?" He pointed it at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Only clicks. Pointed it at the wall. Only clicks.
Hoping that it had calmed the boy, Jason explained. "Y'see, if people see me with this, they'll assume me hostile and won't attack. Like those animals that look like poisonous animals or have markings that indicate poison without being poisonous to avoid predators. If animals can't do it, why can't I?"
He held out his hand to Joe. "Oh, if you don't know me, my name is Jason. You need help up?"
Inwardly, Jason hoped for an alliance. Safety in numbers seemed like a pretty good saying to go by in these times and circumstances. Not only would they all have people to trust, it was also protection and maybe even information.
This could be the start of something beautiful.
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Courtography
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She sipped more water while she slowly started to go through her bag. There were power bars, a compass (like she'd used one before, right), more water, and a first aid kit. Huh. That surprised her more than it should have. She would have imagined these kinds of people not really caring about them patching their wounds.
She examined the hammer again, noticing a slip on the paper on the floor next to it. "Sledgehammer (with 10 pound head)". Was this her weapon? She doubted she could swing that very hard at all, not that she would have done so anyway, of course. Especially with how she was feeling right now. Was it being gassed or had she eaten something weird the day before?
She kinda doubted that Cheerios had suddenly gone bad, but it was something to consider.
A moment later she had unzipped her small red suitcase. A few moments later the things that mattered, mainly her packed clothes, had been put in the backpack the kidnappers had "given" her.
Her stomach rolled again and she moved to get to the toilet, ready. The feeling passed this time though, maybe she was actually getting better.
She wiped a clammy hand on her face. She'd get up and moving soon.
She examined the hammer again, noticing a slip on the paper on the floor next to it. "Sledgehammer (with 10 pound head)". Was this her weapon? She doubted she could swing that very hard at all, not that she would have done so anyway, of course. Especially with how she was feeling right now. Was it being gassed or had she eaten something weird the day before?
She kinda doubted that Cheerios had suddenly gone bad, but it was something to consider.
A moment later she had unzipped her small red suitcase. A few moments later the things that mattered, mainly her packed clothes, had been put in the backpack the kidnappers had "given" her.
Her stomach rolled again and she moved to get to the toilet, ready. The feeling passed this time though, maybe she was actually getting better.
She wiped a clammy hand on her face. She'd get up and moving soon.
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ViolentMedic
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When the boy--Jason--raised the gun in the air and clicked it, Joe automatically shielded his head and yelped despite the former reassurance that it was empty. But indeed, no bullets came whizzing out of it. Jason meant what he was saying, at least right now.
It was still really hard to breathe.
Joe looked up at the hand offered to him for a few moments, hesitating, before taking it and letting himself be helped up. He was full of jitters. But Jason offering to help was a little bit of a comfort, even if waving around the empty gun had gotten him even more wired up.
"Uhhm. Joe," Joe mumbled. He shifted nervously before mumbling, "Ummm... markings are duh... duh... different, though. Other... other people can't... can't really run except... to other people with guh... guns. And an an... animal can't want to steal another's muh... muh... markings or go 'I have better markings' and shuh... shuh... shoot anywa--I'm sorry." Joe looked at the ground, fiddling around nervously with his fingers and now feeling guilt at getting argumentative (for him) at Jason. "I'm sorry, I shuh... shouldn't have--please don't leave!" he blurted out. Would Jason leave over Joe questioning his logic? It was a small thing, but he might and now Joe was worried and--
And it was still hard to breathe and getting worse, so Joe quickly yelled, "Bathroom!"
Bathrooms had always been something of a safety zone from him. At prom (although there it had gone bad) and at the mall that time he'd wandered in while high and only realised the implications a little while later. Joe half-ran, hopping over the various broken toys on the floor, to the bathroom over in the far corner. Bathrooms were private. Bathrooms were safe.
This bathroom had someone in it. Someone with a sledgehammer.
Of course, Joe screamed like a girl and backed away, still clinging to his dressage whip like it would act as a shield. Couldn't claim a sledgehammer wasn't loaded, after all.
It was still really hard to breathe.
Joe looked up at the hand offered to him for a few moments, hesitating, before taking it and letting himself be helped up. He was full of jitters. But Jason offering to help was a little bit of a comfort, even if waving around the empty gun had gotten him even more wired up.
"Uhhm. Joe," Joe mumbled. He shifted nervously before mumbling, "Ummm... markings are duh... duh... different, though. Other... other people can't... can't really run except... to other people with guh... guns. And an an... animal can't want to steal another's muh... muh... markings or go 'I have better markings' and shuh... shuh... shoot anywa--I'm sorry." Joe looked at the ground, fiddling around nervously with his fingers and now feeling guilt at getting argumentative (for him) at Jason. "I'm sorry, I shuh... shouldn't have--please don't leave!" he blurted out. Would Jason leave over Joe questioning his logic? It was a small thing, but he might and now Joe was worried and--
And it was still hard to breathe and getting worse, so Joe quickly yelled, "Bathroom!"
Bathrooms had always been something of a safety zone from him. At prom (although there it had gone bad) and at the mall that time he'd wandered in while high and only realised the implications a little while later. Joe half-ran, hopping over the various broken toys on the floor, to the bathroom over in the far corner. Bathrooms were private. Bathrooms were safe.
This bathroom had someone in it. Someone with a sledgehammer.
Of course, Joe screamed like a girl and backed away, still clinging to his dressage whip like it would act as a shield. Couldn't claim a sledgehammer wasn't loaded, after all.
Jason helped up Joe, who immediately after began babbling about animals and markings and theft before he blurted out "Please don't leave!" Jason blinked. He knew that some people would go bonkers on the island, but this kid was clearly off the deep end. He briefly considered abandoning him, but immediately regret the idea. Safety in numbers was a priority, and a nutcase was better than no a-
"Bathroom!"
Jason was jarred out of his inner monologue by the other boy's yelling, and Joe immediately began to make his way to the bathroom, leaving his bag behind. Jason picked it up to keep it for Joe, and took this time to properly observe his surroundings. The room looked about as eerily desolated as his waking place, except on a larger scale. Some of the cribs still had blankets and toys in them, as if left in haste. More toys were scattered around the room, broken and forgotten. The hospital was reminiscent of one you'd see in horror games as levels, fighting your way through the creepy place to fight zombies, ghosts and other enemies.
Suddenly, a girl screamed.
Jason whirled around and immediately bounded towards Joe, who was backing away from the bathroom door, clutching his assigned weapon (some sort of whip). Jason barged in and found himself pointing a gun at a girl with a sledgehammer, kneeling over a suitcase. He recognized the girl as Jessica Murphy, and he hoped she wasn't playing.
Jessica could either be a friend or an enemy, and there was a 50-50 chance that she was the former or the latter.
"Bathroom!"
Jason was jarred out of his inner monologue by the other boy's yelling, and Joe immediately began to make his way to the bathroom, leaving his bag behind. Jason picked it up to keep it for Joe, and took this time to properly observe his surroundings. The room looked about as eerily desolated as his waking place, except on a larger scale. Some of the cribs still had blankets and toys in them, as if left in haste. More toys were scattered around the room, broken and forgotten. The hospital was reminiscent of one you'd see in horror games as levels, fighting your way through the creepy place to fight zombies, ghosts and other enemies.
Suddenly, a girl screamed.
Jason whirled around and immediately bounded towards Joe, who was backing away from the bathroom door, clutching his assigned weapon (some sort of whip). Jason barged in and found himself pointing a gun at a girl with a sledgehammer, kneeling over a suitcase. He recognized the girl as Jessica Murphy, and he hoped she wasn't playing.
Jessica could either be a friend or an enemy, and there was a 50-50 chance that she was the former or the latter.
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Courtography
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Things went crazy way too quickly from that point.
A scream later from one Joe Carrasco, and suddenly Jason something was pointing a gun at Jessica. The scream had brought Jessica's headache back with a vengeance and she found herself in the rare situation of glaring daggers at someone.
She coughed as she placed the handle of the sledgehammer back down on the floor. It wasn't like she would be charging anyone with it. Too heavy.
She coughed as she tried to speak, her throat still sore.
Another try and she was able to croak out a weak "buzz off" at Jason. She already felt like crap and was in no mood to deal with the loud, armed pair.
Especially since she wasn't in the best shape to fight back.
A scream later from one Joe Carrasco, and suddenly Jason something was pointing a gun at Jessica. The scream had brought Jessica's headache back with a vengeance and she found herself in the rare situation of glaring daggers at someone.
She coughed as she placed the handle of the sledgehammer back down on the floor. It wasn't like she would be charging anyone with it. Too heavy.
She coughed as she tried to speak, her throat still sore.
Another try and she was able to croak out a weak "buzz off" at Jason. She already felt like crap and was in no mood to deal with the loud, armed pair.
Especially since she wasn't in the best shape to fight back.
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ViolentMedic
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Okay. So he freaked a little.
"Aaaawaitwaitwaitwait!" Joe flailed his hands at Jason. "I didn't... I mean, she duh... didn't do eh... anything. Just... panicked. Surprised. I'm sorry, put the... it's not loaded!" he babbled, turning his attention back and forth between Jason to the girl with the sledgehammer (Joe knew her vaguely by sight, he was sure he'd seen her in the library on occasion, but once again he couldn't match a name with her face) without being quite sure which of his words were directed at who.
The cough concerned him a little, though. Joe fidgeted before asking, "Um, you okay?" He looked at the water bottle she had out. She had it under control, maybe it wasn't anything big.
He'd probably made the situation worse with his overreacting. He needed a way to make it better.
...Food made things better. And Jason had carried Joe's bag over. That was nice of him. Joe had stuffed his bag from the plane inside the bigger supply bag he'd been issued while he was looking through it for his weapon. There was nothing much useful in his luggage, he only had a couple of changes of clothes. The medical booklet that his father had shoved in there had been taken, which was depressing.
But he also had cookies. Two packages of really nice cookies that he'd made for the trip. (One package he'd meant to give to Ruth, because he'd promised the guy some brownies but he'd gone off brownies since prom so he'd made cookies instead.) And food was always nice. People liked food.
"Uhm. I think... I have cookies in muh.... my bag. ...You guh... guh... guys want some?"
"Aaaawaitwaitwaitwait!" Joe flailed his hands at Jason. "I didn't... I mean, she duh... didn't do eh... anything. Just... panicked. Surprised. I'm sorry, put the... it's not loaded!" he babbled, turning his attention back and forth between Jason to the girl with the sledgehammer (Joe knew her vaguely by sight, he was sure he'd seen her in the library on occasion, but once again he couldn't match a name with her face) without being quite sure which of his words were directed at who.
The cough concerned him a little, though. Joe fidgeted before asking, "Um, you okay?" He looked at the water bottle she had out. She had it under control, maybe it wasn't anything big.
He'd probably made the situation worse with his overreacting. He needed a way to make it better.
...Food made things better. And Jason had carried Joe's bag over. That was nice of him. Joe had stuffed his bag from the plane inside the bigger supply bag he'd been issued while he was looking through it for his weapon. There was nothing much useful in his luggage, he only had a couple of changes of clothes. The medical booklet that his father had shoved in there had been taken, which was depressing.
But he also had cookies. Two packages of really nice cookies that he'd made for the trip. (One package he'd meant to give to Ruth, because he'd promised the guy some brownies but he'd gone off brownies since prom so he'd made cookies instead.) And food was always nice. People liked food.
"Uhm. I think... I have cookies in muh.... my bag. ...You guh... guh... guys want some?"
"Heh, yeah, Joe's right. It's empty. Sorry for the scare." Jason laughed nervously and lowered the gun. "You can't be to careful around here."
He tossed Joe the bag. Cookies sounded nice about now. "Here you go." Jason pulled out a map and began to study it. The island didn't look too big, and they'd certainly run across others if they were to venture out. Much of the western coast was the town, and a better hiding spot would be in the forested portion of the island. They should head out towards there for better camouflage.
Well, they technically weren't a group yet. They were, as of now, a group of kids in a mutual pact of no-murder. Maybe they could travel around as a group, if both agreed.
"So..." Jason began, glancing at the two of them. "You guys wanna group up? It's not mandatory, you guys can decline and we'd all go our separate ways, but an alliance would be desirable."
He tossed Joe the bag. Cookies sounded nice about now. "Here you go." Jason pulled out a map and began to study it. The island didn't look too big, and they'd certainly run across others if they were to venture out. Much of the western coast was the town, and a better hiding spot would be in the forested portion of the island. They should head out towards there for better camouflage.
Well, they technically weren't a group yet. They were, as of now, a group of kids in a mutual pact of no-murder. Maybe they could travel around as a group, if both agreed.
"So..." Jason began, glancing at the two of them. "You guys wanna group up? It's not mandatory, you guys can decline and we'd all go our separate ways, but an alliance would be desirable."
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Courtography
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Jessica's headache made her not listen very well to Joe's babbling and Jason's explanation. Honestly, she wished they would just leave her alone. Especially since they had essentially ignored her request to buzz off.
That annoyed her a lot, but she was just going to take the path of least resistance.
Jason had requested them to group up.
Honestly, with how she was feeling she didn't really want a group. She just wanted to lay down by herself and wait out this sickness.
She might change her mind later so she responded with "Fine. Give me a minute."
She wasn't up to running around yet, they'd just have to wait on her.
That annoyed her a lot, but she was just going to take the path of least resistance.
Jason had requested them to group up.
Honestly, with how she was feeling she didn't really want a group. She just wanted to lay down by herself and wait out this sickness.
She might change her mind later so she responded with "Fine. Give me a minute."
She wasn't up to running around yet, they'd just have to wait on her.
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ViolentMedic
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"Um, yeah, allies is... is good," Joe mumbled, nodding. He tried smiling, since he was pretty relieved that Jason wasn't going to ditch him (though part of him wanted to hide in a bathroom and cry, a much larger portion of him really didn't want to be left alone) but it came out as a painful grimace. He quickly gave up the attempt.
To the girl, he said, "R-Right, of course, I'll juh... just... over here. Juh... Jason, you shuh... shuh... should probably... um... over here, as well... muh... maybe, I don't..." He shuffled away from the bathroom to give her some space, clinging to his bag. Crowding into the bathroom, with guns and cookies, probably wasn't going to help. Joe didn't know why he thought the cookies would help someone who seemed to be nauseous. Stupid idea, but... wasn't like bringing out the cookies would hurt. Maybe. Unless they were allergic to chocolate or something. Once he was far enough from the bathroom, he dropped his bag on one of the cribs, unzipped it and retrieved one of the packages of cookies. They were simple cookies, just chocolate chip ones because he'd made them the morning of the trip so they were fresh enough. Better than ration bars, bread and crackers, though. (Well, taste-wise, where nutrition was concerned they were obviously terrible.)
He didn't take a cookie for himself at the moment. His stomach wasn't feeling settled at the moment. He just opened the package and held it out so Jason could grab a cookie, as well as the girl if she emerged from the bathroom. His hand was shaking so much that the cookies were shifting around.
Don't cry. Just breathe. And things will be...
...
They wouldn't be okay. No matter how much he cried or how deep his breaths were.
But if he kept crying and freaking out and being embarrassing, Jason and the other girl might leave him behind. And he couldn't deal with that right now.
To the girl, he said, "R-Right, of course, I'll juh... just... over here. Juh... Jason, you shuh... shuh... should probably... um... over here, as well... muh... maybe, I don't..." He shuffled away from the bathroom to give her some space, clinging to his bag. Crowding into the bathroom, with guns and cookies, probably wasn't going to help. Joe didn't know why he thought the cookies would help someone who seemed to be nauseous. Stupid idea, but... wasn't like bringing out the cookies would hurt. Maybe. Unless they were allergic to chocolate or something. Once he was far enough from the bathroom, he dropped his bag on one of the cribs, unzipped it and retrieved one of the packages of cookies. They were simple cookies, just chocolate chip ones because he'd made them the morning of the trip so they were fresh enough. Better than ration bars, bread and crackers, though. (Well, taste-wise, where nutrition was concerned they were obviously terrible.)
He didn't take a cookie for himself at the moment. His stomach wasn't feeling settled at the moment. He just opened the package and held it out so Jason could grab a cookie, as well as the girl if she emerged from the bathroom. His hand was shaking so much that the cookies were shifting around.
Don't cry. Just breathe. And things will be...
...
They wouldn't be okay. No matter how much he cried or how deep his breaths were.
But if he kept crying and freaking out and being embarrassing, Jason and the other girl might leave him behind. And he couldn't deal with that right now.
Jason breathed an inward sigh of relief. They had a third member of the group. The more the merrier.
He followed Joe out of the bathroom to give Jessica some space and accepted the cookie with a warm "Thanks." He went off to sit behind a crib and prepare a bit. He stuffed the map into the bag and fumbled with some bullets he had pulled out. He pocketed them and decided to keep them around just in case. He certainly wasn't going to shoot somebody, but if the time comes...
Could he bring himself to shoot somebody? Maybe if they're attacking and if the shot's not lethal; he'd be sort of okay with shooting someone in the leg. Jason couldn't bear killing someone; too heavy on the conscience and just plain wrong.
He took refuge in the cookie, which was pretty delicious. He didn't know if Joe made it or if his mom made it or if it was store bought, but it was certainly pretty tasty. He munched on the cookie thoughtfully as he waited for Jessica to collect herself.
He followed Joe out of the bathroom to give Jessica some space and accepted the cookie with a warm "Thanks." He went off to sit behind a crib and prepare a bit. He stuffed the map into the bag and fumbled with some bullets he had pulled out. He pocketed them and decided to keep them around just in case. He certainly wasn't going to shoot somebody, but if the time comes...
Could he bring himself to shoot somebody? Maybe if they're attacking and if the shot's not lethal; he'd be sort of okay with shooting someone in the leg. Jason couldn't bear killing someone; too heavy on the conscience and just plain wrong.
He took refuge in the cookie, which was pretty delicious. He didn't know if Joe made it or if his mom made it or if it was store bought, but it was certainly pretty tasty. He munched on the cookie thoughtfully as he waited for Jessica to collect herself.
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Courtography
- Posts: 205
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:52 pm
They were kind enough to leave her alone while she rested up a bit. She drank more water, listening to them outside. She knew she'd have to get up soon. Her stomach had settled. That was good.
A few moments later and she stood up. Her legs were shaking, her stomach heaved for a moment. She didn't puke, a good sign.
A few moments later and she had her bag on her back. She was still shaky and sweating a little. But Jessica was okay, she was up, that's what mattered.
She left the sledgehammer on the floor. She couldn't carry it well anyway.
She left the bathroom. "Okay," she said to announce herself.
A few moments later and she stood up. Her legs were shaking, her stomach heaved for a moment. She didn't puke, a good sign.
A few moments later and she had her bag on her back. She was still shaky and sweating a little. But Jessica was okay, she was up, that's what mattered.
She left the sledgehammer on the floor. She couldn't carry it well anyway.
She left the bathroom. "Okay," she said to announce herself.