Y'know, in the back of his mind he always wondered if he'd end up somewhere like this. Just never under these circumstances.
((B016: Ty Yazzie Game GO))
Really made a certain kinda sense when you thought about it. Marcus was a bit of a drinker, and he got it from Beans, who came by it honest from the old man. With how much Ty'd picked up from the old man over the years, he gave himself even odds of ending up in the bottle somewhere. Left to his own devices, at least. It was the kinda cheeky, bullshit thought he had when part of him liked to get sentimental and think of them as a real, if fucked up, family.
Hell. Last thing he did with Beans was drink a beer. Probably said somethin'.
So here he was, sitting in a circle of chairs, waiting for his turn to share. 'cept there wasn't anybody around to chat him up about their problems. The only folks around who could here him where sitting god knows where behind a desk somewhere. Fuck, what an awful job being a desk jockey for this had to be. Everybody panicking and freaking out all over the place like they've probably seen about a million times at this point, or even worse the ones like him, slowly taking inventory and reading up on the supplied material.
Yeah, that'd caught his eye more than the big ol' sword. "Survival Guide." He was a lot more interested in surviving than killing, and maybe they'd put in some tidbits about fresh water. Shelter. Anything that would help ride this thing out. Instead, he found a lotta horseshit that didn't seem worth paying attention to, he'd picked up the gist when they'd murdered Mr. Graham. They were damn crazy, every last one of 'em, and anything he read in there was just going to confirm that. Loony bastards wanted him to get scared, or mad, or whatever would get him in the mood to get jumpy and play along.
He folded the guide back up and hopped up out of the chair, making his way to the center of the ring. His gaze flicked to the only camera he'd manage to spy so far and he gave it a brief nod. A few sounds followed in quick succession.
The guide rustling as it hit the ground.
His zipper squealing as he pulled it down.
His piss hitting the paper and soaking through to the surrounding floor.
A satisfied grunt as he zipped back up and flipped off the nearest camera.
Ty wasn't anybody's wind-up toy. Plenty had tried to scare him into compliance over the years, and here he was. They were gonna have to try a lot harder than that. A lot fucking harder.
Now if he could just stop shaking and believe it.
Thirteen Steps
Open! :3
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Emprexx Plush
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((Harold Porter is filled with Determination))
"Didn't think you were the type to piss yourself, Ty," Harold called from the doorway.
It was obvious what he had actually done, of course, and was one of the only proper responses to Danya's propaganda. Harold had discarded his immediately, though it lacked Ty's visceral flair. Still, friendly insults were a key part of the wrestlebro experience, and talking like nothing had changed was just another subtle way to fight back against Evil.
The asylum was hard to miss. It had drawn Harold's eye as soon as he had seen it in the map, and the building proper had been equally impressive. Rotted through as it was, it still had a certain dignity about it had compelled Harold to investigate. After all, it had likely had the same effect on everyone else who saw it, making a good place to find people, for better or worse. Thankfully, "better" had won out in the end.
Though he hadn't actively been looking for them, Harold knew that out of all the students on the island, he could trust any of the other members of the wrestling team. He hadn't expected to find one so soon, but he supposed something had to go right eventually, even on such a horrific day. Ty especially was one of the toughest members on the team.
"Seriously, though. It's good to see you, man." If only it had been under happier circumstances.
"Didn't think you were the type to piss yourself, Ty," Harold called from the doorway.
It was obvious what he had actually done, of course, and was one of the only proper responses to Danya's propaganda. Harold had discarded his immediately, though it lacked Ty's visceral flair. Still, friendly insults were a key part of the wrestlebro experience, and talking like nothing had changed was just another subtle way to fight back against Evil.
The asylum was hard to miss. It had drawn Harold's eye as soon as he had seen it in the map, and the building proper had been equally impressive. Rotted through as it was, it still had a certain dignity about it had compelled Harold to investigate. After all, it had likely had the same effect on everyone else who saw it, making a good place to find people, for better or worse. Thankfully, "better" had won out in the end.
Though he hadn't actively been looking for them, Harold knew that out of all the students on the island, he could trust any of the other members of the wrestling team. He hadn't expected to find one so soon, but he supposed something had to go right eventually, even on such a horrific day. Ty especially was one of the toughest members on the team.
"Seriously, though. It's good to see you, man." If only it had been under happier circumstances.
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Emprexx Plush
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Probably a good thing he remembered to zip up before anybody got here, because he knew that voice, and he turned real quick on it, everything else be damned. Even if his instincts made him tense up here, he was able to relax a little. He even managed a small smile. "Harry. Shit, man. I'd say it's good to see you, but..." He waved a hand at the area. Harry was quick enough, he'd get the message.
His face darkened for a moment. "You okay? I ain't been up long, I've got no idea what's what yet." The trouble could have already started, and Harry looked fine, but hell, things could go south fast. He knew that better than most. Couldn't hurt to check in on him.
The shaking had calmed down a little from seeing a familiar face. Not because it made him any less keyed up, but it gave him some focus. There were people he needed to look out for. Harry, Clarice, Fiyori, Bee...too many to think about. Never figured himself as a popular sort of guy, but in perspective there were more people he cared about than he woulda guessed on the average day. They needed a plan, or something. Which was a goddamn shame, because other than that pissy little display he didn't have a clue what he was doing.
His face darkened for a moment. "You okay? I ain't been up long, I've got no idea what's what yet." The trouble could have already started, and Harry looked fine, but hell, things could go south fast. He knew that better than most. Couldn't hurt to check in on him.
The shaking had calmed down a little from seeing a familiar face. Not because it made him any less keyed up, but it gave him some focus. There were people he needed to look out for. Harry, Clarice, Fiyori, Bee...too many to think about. Never figured himself as a popular sort of guy, but in perspective there were more people he cared about than he woulda guessed on the average day. They needed a plan, or something. Which was a goddamn shame, because other than that pissy little display he didn't have a clue what he was doing.
Harold nodded. Ty's implication was clear enough. You'd have to be a literal corpse to miss the subtext there, really. Okay, that was an unfortunate thought. Harold's been up for a while, but it looked like Ty had woken up in this room. It was obviously morning, but without a watch or his phone that was all Harold could tell.
If people had woken up even earlier than Harold had, could some of his classmates already be dead? Maybe someone feeling particularly opportunistic had stumbled across a sleeping classmate and decided to make the most of it. Maybe they'd wanted to get used to murdering their fellow human beings on a target that wouldn't resist. Harold knew he couldn't waste his worry on hypotheticals, knew he couldn't have done anything even if that had actually happened. It still stung.
"I'm fine. Woke up. Saw a big building. Thought I'd check it out. Here I am." Harold sighed. "Where do we even go from here, man?"
If people had woken up even earlier than Harold had, could some of his classmates already be dead? Maybe someone feeling particularly opportunistic had stumbled across a sleeping classmate and decided to make the most of it. Maybe they'd wanted to get used to murdering their fellow human beings on a target that wouldn't resist. Harold knew he couldn't waste his worry on hypotheticals, knew he couldn't have done anything even if that had actually happened. It still stung.
"I'm fine. Woke up. Saw a big building. Thought I'd check it out. Here I am." Harold sighed. "Where do we even go from here, man?"
(Lizzie Luz continued from Those Who Play The Most Dangerous Game)
So. No weapons. Nothing but her duffel bag, heavy enough all on its own. Walk on, your powerful legs carrying you on forever. She could walk indefinitely, go where she willed. As long as she stuck to this island. As long as she wore this collar.
There was a part of her that regretted abandoning the sword. There was a part of her that regretted abandoning the people.
So she wandered, headed down the cliffs, crossed a bridge and made her way towards a large building. The man-made paths were all thick with weeds, nature slowly creeping back where man had once displaced it. Truth be told, she kept walking, kept looking, less to find her fellow students and more because this place looked like the exact kinda thing she would have wanted to see and explore. Old habits die hard, right?
Would she?
She shivered, and this time she didn't feel quite like laughing. That clifftop conversation had drained her. She didn't understand...
People couldn't really be thinking like that. Could they? Had Alex and Tara meant it? Would anyone else...
She found a large window broken by a fallen tree. Without thinking, she hopped atop the trunk and clambered along, slipped through the window and crunched down atop broken glass. She winced at the sound, but when no one responded she kept moving through the large building.
She came to a stop when she heard voices. Her heart leapt into her throat, and her skin crawled.
So. No weapons. Nothing but her duffel bag, heavy enough all on its own. Walk on, your powerful legs carrying you on forever. She could walk indefinitely, go where she willed. As long as she stuck to this island. As long as she wore this collar.
There was a part of her that regretted abandoning the sword. There was a part of her that regretted abandoning the people.
So she wandered, headed down the cliffs, crossed a bridge and made her way towards a large building. The man-made paths were all thick with weeds, nature slowly creeping back where man had once displaced it. Truth be told, she kept walking, kept looking, less to find her fellow students and more because this place looked like the exact kinda thing she would have wanted to see and explore. Old habits die hard, right?
Would she?
She shivered, and this time she didn't feel quite like laughing. That clifftop conversation had drained her. She didn't understand...
People couldn't really be thinking like that. Could they? Had Alex and Tara meant it? Would anyone else...
She found a large window broken by a fallen tree. Without thinking, she hopped atop the trunk and clambered along, slipped through the window and crunched down atop broken glass. She winced at the sound, but when no one responded she kept moving through the large building.
She came to a stop when she heard voices. Her heart leapt into her throat, and her skin crawled.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
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Emprexx Plush
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"I don't know, man. I just..." Ty closed his eyes for a moment. The faces were coming too fast now, and they just kept repeating. What were they supposed to do? He wasn't some hero. He was a piece of shit that hadn't even managed to drag himself out of the ditch, let alone anyone else. Untrimmed nails dug into his palm in tight fists as he shook. "I just don't know."
No point in dragging out over it. Maybe they could all pow-wow and have a neat little breakdown over the whole thing later, but for now they needed a plan, and it didn't sound like Harry was inclined to come up with it. They had to think about safety first and...well, come to think of it, was there actually safety around him? Underneath all the faces, that shit on the screen kept playing in his head. Weren't the first time this had happened, weren't the first time somebody had thought real hard about their friends and thought "Nah, can't be us." Weren't the last time it was gonna turn out they were wrong either, probably. Ty wasn't too concerned about his friends at the moment, though. He was thinking about a different bunch.
"Harry, man," he started quietly "I don't...I dunno if it's safe for you to be around me." He could see it pretty clearly in his head. "You know the kinda...y'know, reputation I've got." Hardly a day went by that he didn't feel like there was some kinda fear or suspicion in the eyes on him about the way he looked, the family he'd come from, the things he'd said and done over the years. "Somebody's liable to...I dunno. Do somethin'. I don't want you caught up in that."
No point in dragging out over it. Maybe they could all pow-wow and have a neat little breakdown over the whole thing later, but for now they needed a plan, and it didn't sound like Harry was inclined to come up with it. They had to think about safety first and...well, come to think of it, was there actually safety around him? Underneath all the faces, that shit on the screen kept playing in his head. Weren't the first time this had happened, weren't the first time somebody had thought real hard about their friends and thought "Nah, can't be us." Weren't the last time it was gonna turn out they were wrong either, probably. Ty wasn't too concerned about his friends at the moment, though. He was thinking about a different bunch.
"Harry, man," he started quietly "I don't...I dunno if it's safe for you to be around me." He could see it pretty clearly in his head. "You know the kinda...y'know, reputation I've got." Hardly a day went by that he didn't feel like there was some kinda fear or suspicion in the eyes on him about the way he looked, the family he'd come from, the things he'd said and done over the years. "Somebody's liable to...I dunno. Do somethin'. I don't want you caught up in that."
"Don't gimme any of that shit, Ty. You shouldn't have to be caught up in any of 'that', either," Harold said, dramatic air quotes making it clear what he thought about Ty's implication.
Being on the wrestling team together had generally kept Harold away from Ty's explosive side, but he wasn't blind to the fact that he had hurt people in the past. Maybe not physically, ever since he'd joined the team, but violent shouting and threats were almost just as bad. Sticks and stones break your bones, words slip between your ribcage like a knife and cut you even deeper. He couldn't blame anyone who still held a grudge, even after all the years that had passed.
Ty had changed, though. He was making an honest, earnest effort to make up for what he'd done, to be a better man. Everyone deserved at least the offer of second chance, and Ty was making the most of his. The people he had hurt obviously had no obligation to forgive him, and their feelings were no less valid, but to actively seek revenge? To hunt and kill someone for a past they were already paying the debt for? Harold couldn't allow that.
"You know I can take care of myself. I know you can take care of yourself. Sticking together and watching each other's backs is the obvious thing to do, yeah?" Harold was half-tempted to plop down in one of the circled seats, make it clear he wasn't going anywhere, but there was something weirdly ominous about the way they were arranged. 'Hi, I'm Harold, and I'm going to die.' 'Hi, Harry,' he could almost hear. It'd be best to leave this room sooner rather than later.
Being on the wrestling team together had generally kept Harold away from Ty's explosive side, but he wasn't blind to the fact that he had hurt people in the past. Maybe not physically, ever since he'd joined the team, but violent shouting and threats were almost just as bad. Sticks and stones break your bones, words slip between your ribcage like a knife and cut you even deeper. He couldn't blame anyone who still held a grudge, even after all the years that had passed.
Ty had changed, though. He was making an honest, earnest effort to make up for what he'd done, to be a better man. Everyone deserved at least the offer of second chance, and Ty was making the most of his. The people he had hurt obviously had no obligation to forgive him, and their feelings were no less valid, but to actively seek revenge? To hunt and kill someone for a past they were already paying the debt for? Harold couldn't allow that.
"You know I can take care of myself. I know you can take care of yourself. Sticking together and watching each other's backs is the obvious thing to do, yeah?" Harold was half-tempted to plop down in one of the circled seats, make it clear he wasn't going anywhere, but there was something weirdly ominous about the way they were arranged. 'Hi, I'm Harold, and I'm going to die.' 'Hi, Harry,' he could almost hear. It'd be best to leave this room sooner rather than later.
Voices. They might not have heard her, but she could hear them, too clearly. Sound carried in this place.
"I don't know, man."
Well, duh. Be way more fucked up if you did know. How could any of them know? What the fuck was this place? How was this still a thing that happened? Why hadn't these terrorists been caught and executed years ago?
"Harry, man...I don't...I dunno if it's safe for you to be around me. You know the kinda...y'know, reputation I've got. Somebody's liable to...I dunno. Do somethin'. I don't want you caught up in that."
That voice...was that Tyler Yazzie? Scary-lookin' kid with a scary lookin' rep. She'd heard things. Bad things. Hurt people things. But the way he was talking, the way he sounded...that didn't sound like someone who was scary. That sounded like someone trying to make sense of a real bad situation.
"Don't gimme any of that shit, Ty."
Ha! Damn right. No one who sounded like that, who was that worried about their friends getting hurt, should get left in the cold. Mystery voice had it.
"You know I can take care of myself. I know you can take care of yourself. Sticking together and watching each other's backs is the obvious thing to do, yeah?"
Good on him, but Lizzie wasn't sure she agreed. Was this the kind of place you wanted to stick it out with your friends? But who wanted to be tied down, now of all times? Who wanted to be trapped and choking, never knowing what would happen? Wasn't it better to strike out on your own, look out for yourself, figure yourself out because she was going to die, because the tight rope was swaying and she knew the fall was coming, no matter how she ran? Did she want other people on the rope with her? Wasn't that why she'd left Tara and Alex behind?
That was the thing to do. Leave. Go again, before you got tied down. This is your time, Lizzie. The last time you might ever have. You can't waste it-
Can't waste it talking to two human beings, both looking out for each other, refusing to run.
She took a steadying breath, crept forwards, and knocked on the doorframe leading into the room.
"I don't know, man."
Well, duh. Be way more fucked up if you did know. How could any of them know? What the fuck was this place? How was this still a thing that happened? Why hadn't these terrorists been caught and executed years ago?
"Harry, man...I don't...I dunno if it's safe for you to be around me. You know the kinda...y'know, reputation I've got. Somebody's liable to...I dunno. Do somethin'. I don't want you caught up in that."
That voice...was that Tyler Yazzie? Scary-lookin' kid with a scary lookin' rep. She'd heard things. Bad things. Hurt people things. But the way he was talking, the way he sounded...that didn't sound like someone who was scary. That sounded like someone trying to make sense of a real bad situation.
"Don't gimme any of that shit, Ty."
Ha! Damn right. No one who sounded like that, who was that worried about their friends getting hurt, should get left in the cold. Mystery voice had it.
"You know I can take care of myself. I know you can take care of yourself. Sticking together and watching each other's backs is the obvious thing to do, yeah?"
Good on him, but Lizzie wasn't sure she agreed. Was this the kind of place you wanted to stick it out with your friends? But who wanted to be tied down, now of all times? Who wanted to be trapped and choking, never knowing what would happen? Wasn't it better to strike out on your own, look out for yourself, figure yourself out because she was going to die, because the tight rope was swaying and she knew the fall was coming, no matter how she ran? Did she want other people on the rope with her? Wasn't that why she'd left Tara and Alex behind?
That was the thing to do. Leave. Go again, before you got tied down. This is your time, Lizzie. The last time you might ever have. You can't waste it-
Can't waste it talking to two human beings, both looking out for each other, refusing to run.
She took a steadying breath, crept forwards, and knocked on the doorframe leading into the room.
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
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Emprexx Plush
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Goddammit, this better not become a trend. He appreciated the sentiment, but nobody needed to stick their necks out for him. Wasn't right. His problems weren't Harry's or anybody else's, no matter how close they were, and if somebody did something because he was around...fuck, couldn't he see the position that put him in? Talk like that was all well and good until somebody got hurt, but then he'd be just as responsible as whoever'd done it. "I-"
His protest was cut off by a knocking sound at the door. The hairs on the back of his neck shot up as he whirled towards the door. When nobody came through immediately, he was relieved, but he didn't relax. "Harry," he said quietly, "you with anybody? Or do we have company?"
His eyes drifted nervously to the sword against his pack, bringing a frown to his face. Didn't want to touch the thing, let alone use it. Wasn't the sort of thing you picked up unless you were planning to really hurt somebody, and he wasn't. But, if somebody was planning on really hurting him and his, that'd be a different story. How different wasn't real clear, but something might happen. He just really hoped he wasn't about to find out what.
His protest was cut off by a knocking sound at the door. The hairs on the back of his neck shot up as he whirled towards the door. When nobody came through immediately, he was relieved, but he didn't relax. "Harry," he said quietly, "you with anybody? Or do we have company?"
His eyes drifted nervously to the sword against his pack, bringing a frown to his face. Didn't want to touch the thing, let alone use it. Wasn't the sort of thing you picked up unless you were planning to really hurt somebody, and he wasn't. But, if somebody was planning on really hurting him and his, that'd be a different story. How different wasn't real clear, but something might happen. He just really hoped he wasn't about to find out what.
Things couldn't ever stay simple for long, could they? Well, whoever was knocking clearly had a compelling reason to do so, and Harold felt obligated to at least hear them out. "Dunno who this is, but they know we're here. If they wanted to catch us by surprise, they coulda just waited outside until we left. Only one door, after all," Harold muttered quietly to Ty. 'Catch us by surprise' was a rather diplomatic way to word 'shoot us and steal our bags', but Harold preferred to avoid assuming the worst of strangers.
There was a fine line between tentative trust and willfully putting blinders on yourself, though. Might not be the nicest thing to do, but you had to take precautions to protect yourself and the people you care for. Harold picked up Ty's sword, weighing it in his hands. He didn't have a clue how to actually use it in a fight, and he'd honestly probably be better off just using his fists, but image was what mattered here. He didn't want to think that he was just throwing his weight and imposing appearance around, but that was exactly what he was doing. Hopefully all in the service of peace.
It was weird how simply designating something a weapon was enough to completely change your perception of it, though. You can stab someone with a cooking knife, bash a head in with a dumbbell, but that wasn't their purpose. Harold shuddered. Even if it was ultimately self defense, he didn't want anyone's deaths on his conscience. He couldn't let the fact that he was armed bias his planning.
"Hey there," Harold called at their mysterious visitor. "Feel free to come in, but for everyone's safety, please check any weapons at the door. We don't want a fight, alright?" He kept Ty's sword at his side. Obviously present, but not actively threatening.
There was a fine line between tentative trust and willfully putting blinders on yourself, though. Might not be the nicest thing to do, but you had to take precautions to protect yourself and the people you care for. Harold picked up Ty's sword, weighing it in his hands. He didn't have a clue how to actually use it in a fight, and he'd honestly probably be better off just using his fists, but image was what mattered here. He didn't want to think that he was just throwing his weight and imposing appearance around, but that was exactly what he was doing. Hopefully all in the service of peace.
It was weird how simply designating something a weapon was enough to completely change your perception of it, though. You can stab someone with a cooking knife, bash a head in with a dumbbell, but that wasn't their purpose. Harold shuddered. Even if it was ultimately self defense, he didn't want anyone's deaths on his conscience. He couldn't let the fact that he was armed bias his planning.
"Hey there," Harold called at their mysterious visitor. "Feel free to come in, but for everyone's safety, please check any weapons at the door. We don't want a fight, alright?" He kept Ty's sword at his side. Obviously present, but not actively threatening.
((Astrid Tate continued from New Destiny))
The walk from the bell tower round to the front of the asylum was a short one, about ten minutes at best, give or take a little bit of time to avoid thick patches of long grass and scattered bits of debris from the ancient asylum and bell tower. It felt so much longer, however, thanks to all the thoughts flooding into Astrid's head.
The newest one was that, as far as she could tell, she had woken up early compared to the rest of her classmates. She had seen a smattering of students from her lofty perch, heading to the bridge and into the asylum, but as she trudged towards the huge building, she didn't catch a glimpse of anyone nearby; not around the asylum and its associated buildings, and not on what little she could see of the beach.
Maybe it was due to her excellent sleeping schedule, making sure she didn't stay asleep for any longer than necessary. Maybe it was due to being put at the top of the tallest building on the island, the chill wind and lack of shelter waking her early. Astrid didn't really care about the 'hows' and 'whys' of it. It was the repercussions of such that she was concerned about. Was a headstart over a number of her classmates something that would give her a significant advantage? What could she do in that period of time whilst a few of them were still sleeping? Explore the island? Find any good, safe areas? Find someone's bag and take anything useful from it?
Something else?
Astrid reached the entrance of the asylum with more questions than answers and no way of clearing her mind of any of them. She couldn't stay on her own like this, not with her mind still a blur. She felt like she would go insane. She needed to find people just to settle her confusion and make a decision as to her future on this island. There had to be somebody inside a building this huge, right?
Still holding her gun in her right hand, Astrid trudged through weeds and thistles, glancing briefly up at the huge tree that had carved an opening in one side of the building. She pushed against the big front doors of the asylum, and they swung open with surprising ease, causing Astrid to wince at the loud creaking noise they made. She wanted to find people, but she wanted to do it on her own terms. She had to stay in control, or at the very least on equal footing, not with someone sneaking up on her or waiting for this new arrival to walk past the shrouded alcove they were hiding in, axe in hand...
Deeply regretting thinking of that, Astrid pressed forwards into the building, trying her best to banish those thoughts and being just as successful as the last dozen times. She had no destination in mind, so decided to stay on the first floor and headed towards the right. Left, after all, was bad luck, if you were inclined to believe the Romans.
Astrid did her best not to focus too hard on her surroundings. There was always something exceedingly eerie about abandoned buildings or other man-made structures. Shipwrecks were the things that got to her most; she couldn't even describe why exactly they creeped her out, but they just did. Her mind already felt like it was being slowly crushed; she didn't need to add another thing to that pile.
The corridor she chose took Astrid deeper into the asylum, trying her best to walk as softly as possible to hide her footsteps, the world inside the building a sea of shadows and dust, interspersed with shafts of sunlight from dilapidated rooms with opened doors and broken windows. As she came closer to another corner, she heard voices, too muffled to be distinct, but definitely the sounds of human life. Astrid moved closer to the wall, keeping fairly low, before poking her head round the corner.
There was a girl standing outside one of the many rooms. She probably wasn't talking to herself, so Astrid assumed that the voices were coming from inside said room. Unless the situation on the island had already gotten to her.
... Actually, knowing some of her classmates, that wasn't too unlikely.
As Astrid watched, the girl moved forwards to the entrance of the room and knocked on the door. Astrid's brow furrowed at this act. At least the girl wasn't insane, but...
Once whoever it was inside the room had replied, Astrid strode forwards, not caring to hide her footsteps anymore. She had the front foot, the upper hand. She had the weapon, this girl didn't seem to have anything. There was a sense of power, no matter how slight, on Astrid's shoulders.
"I'm pretty impressed you've kept your sense of general courtesy," Astrid said, gun held up and pointed at the ceiling. "You hoping whoever's in there is gonna invite you in for tea and crumpets or something?"
The walk from the bell tower round to the front of the asylum was a short one, about ten minutes at best, give or take a little bit of time to avoid thick patches of long grass and scattered bits of debris from the ancient asylum and bell tower. It felt so much longer, however, thanks to all the thoughts flooding into Astrid's head.
The newest one was that, as far as she could tell, she had woken up early compared to the rest of her classmates. She had seen a smattering of students from her lofty perch, heading to the bridge and into the asylum, but as she trudged towards the huge building, she didn't catch a glimpse of anyone nearby; not around the asylum and its associated buildings, and not on what little she could see of the beach.
Maybe it was due to her excellent sleeping schedule, making sure she didn't stay asleep for any longer than necessary. Maybe it was due to being put at the top of the tallest building on the island, the chill wind and lack of shelter waking her early. Astrid didn't really care about the 'hows' and 'whys' of it. It was the repercussions of such that she was concerned about. Was a headstart over a number of her classmates something that would give her a significant advantage? What could she do in that period of time whilst a few of them were still sleeping? Explore the island? Find any good, safe areas? Find someone's bag and take anything useful from it?
Something else?
Astrid reached the entrance of the asylum with more questions than answers and no way of clearing her mind of any of them. She couldn't stay on her own like this, not with her mind still a blur. She felt like she would go insane. She needed to find people just to settle her confusion and make a decision as to her future on this island. There had to be somebody inside a building this huge, right?
Still holding her gun in her right hand, Astrid trudged through weeds and thistles, glancing briefly up at the huge tree that had carved an opening in one side of the building. She pushed against the big front doors of the asylum, and they swung open with surprising ease, causing Astrid to wince at the loud creaking noise they made. She wanted to find people, but she wanted to do it on her own terms. She had to stay in control, or at the very least on equal footing, not with someone sneaking up on her or waiting for this new arrival to walk past the shrouded alcove they were hiding in, axe in hand...
Deeply regretting thinking of that, Astrid pressed forwards into the building, trying her best to banish those thoughts and being just as successful as the last dozen times. She had no destination in mind, so decided to stay on the first floor and headed towards the right. Left, after all, was bad luck, if you were inclined to believe the Romans.
Astrid did her best not to focus too hard on her surroundings. There was always something exceedingly eerie about abandoned buildings or other man-made structures. Shipwrecks were the things that got to her most; she couldn't even describe why exactly they creeped her out, but they just did. Her mind already felt like it was being slowly crushed; she didn't need to add another thing to that pile.
The corridor she chose took Astrid deeper into the asylum, trying her best to walk as softly as possible to hide her footsteps, the world inside the building a sea of shadows and dust, interspersed with shafts of sunlight from dilapidated rooms with opened doors and broken windows. As she came closer to another corner, she heard voices, too muffled to be distinct, but definitely the sounds of human life. Astrid moved closer to the wall, keeping fairly low, before poking her head round the corner.
There was a girl standing outside one of the many rooms. She probably wasn't talking to herself, so Astrid assumed that the voices were coming from inside said room. Unless the situation on the island had already gotten to her.
... Actually, knowing some of her classmates, that wasn't too unlikely.
As Astrid watched, the girl moved forwards to the entrance of the room and knocked on the door. Astrid's brow furrowed at this act. At least the girl wasn't insane, but...
Once whoever it was inside the room had replied, Astrid strode forwards, not caring to hide her footsteps anymore. She had the front foot, the upper hand. She had the weapon, this girl didn't seem to have anything. There was a sense of power, no matter how slight, on Astrid's shoulders.
"I'm pretty impressed you've kept your sense of general courtesy," Astrid said, gun held up and pointed at the ceiling. "You hoping whoever's in there is gonna invite you in for tea and crumpets or something?"
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"That's easy," Lizzie said, pushing the door open, hands up in the air. "I don't have any."
She didn't smile. Her eyes swept from one man to the next. She somehow turned her gesture of surrender into a casual wave. "Hi," she said. "Sorry for-"
A voice, from the hall. Lizzie yelped and tumbled inside, scrambling backwards, panting as her thoughts whirled wildly. She stared back at the woman just barely visible through the doorway.
"Sweet Christ," she gasped. "A little warning next time, please!"
She didn't smile. Her eyes swept from one man to the next. She somehow turned her gesture of surrender into a casual wave. "Hi," she said. "Sorry for-"
A voice, from the hall. Lizzie yelped and tumbled inside, scrambling backwards, panting as her thoughts whirled wildly. She stared back at the woman just barely visible through the doorway.
"Sweet Christ," she gasped. "A little warning next time, please!"
Those Whose Time Has Come]
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
Terra Johnson (female student no. 73, DECEASED): Oh...duh...Abel's...dead...the one who...lives is...
Tom Swift (male student no. 60): It didn't matter what he wanted anymore.
Daria Bhatia (female student no. 56): "I pity you, and everyone who knows you. Because if you can live with this, I don't...I don't think you're human anymore.”
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Emprexx Plush
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"I don't have any" seemed like a real good excuse to barrel in carrying something, in his opinion. As it turned out, folks lie. Somethin' they did a lot, and anyone who had a mind to kill them probably wouldn't object a whole lot to that either. So he figured Harry had the right idea, gettin' his sword and postin' up for trouble. When their house guest came rushin' through the door, he was ready to dart over and put 'em on the ground as needed, but it was obvious real quick she wasn't a threat. Nah. She was runnin' from the threat.
That only made him tense up more. Christ, how many people were in this building? Granted, the girl...Lizzie, right? So damn many of them Luz kids runnin' around at once it was kinda hard to keep the names straight. But Lizzie here didn't seem too worried about whoever was in the hall. Might be that she's just a jumpy sort. 'course it was also possible she wasn't bright enough to know when she should be scared, since she didn't seem that spooked by him and Harry either. Hard to say what exactly she would find intimindatin'.
Ty held up his hands to Lizzie to show he weren't carryin' nothin' and started edgin' his way towards the door just in case. "Didn't catch a name in all that," he called out to whoever was still outside the door as he made his way across the room. "Who's out there?"
That only made him tense up more. Christ, how many people were in this building? Granted, the girl...Lizzie, right? So damn many of them Luz kids runnin' around at once it was kinda hard to keep the names straight. But Lizzie here didn't seem too worried about whoever was in the hall. Might be that she's just a jumpy sort. 'course it was also possible she wasn't bright enough to know when she should be scared, since she didn't seem that spooked by him and Harry either. Hard to say what exactly she would find intimindatin'.
Ty held up his hands to Lizzie to show he weren't carryin' nothin' and started edgin' his way towards the door just in case. "Didn't catch a name in all that," he called out to whoever was still outside the door as he made his way across the room. "Who's out there?"
Harold flinched as Lizzie scrambled into the room, grip tightening on the sword as he wondered for just a moment if their lives were in danger, if he had to swing now to prevent himself or Ty from getting hurt. It was only a moment, thankfully, then reason won out and he exhaled and realized that Lizzie was running away, not charging. She was (apparently) unarmed, and could probably be safely considered part of "us", if you tried to draw a line between the people hiding inside the room and the world of shadowy figures roaming outside.
It'd be easy to leave it at that, so naturally Harold couldn't. Everyone was worked up, now, himself included. If Lizzie or the person outside had any bad intentions, things could go real bad, real quick. What he needed to do was stay calm, breathe, exhale. Think about how to de-escalate the situation. Once you have to resort to violence, there's no going back, so it's best to take all the time in the world to get to that point. Harold glanced at Ty, by the door. Worst comes to worst, he'd have Harold's back if things went south.
Well, they wouldn't get anywhere all separated like this, calling back and forth through the doorway. It's a whole lot easier to mistrust a disembodied voice than a fellow human being you're face to face with. Harold'd have to remedy that. All else failed, he'd be the first line of defense, or at least the canary in a coal mine.
He stepped out into the hallway, sword by his side. Astrid was a few feet away from the door, easy to pick out of a crowd as ever. Harold didn't know her, but it's hard to miss a girl with an eyepatch, especially when she was almost as tall as him. It was harder to miss the gun she was aiming at the ceiling. "Hey. If you're sticking around, I think we'd all feel a bit more comfortable if you put that away," Harold called out, locking eyes with her. The way Astrid held her gun made it look like she didn't want a fight, but it'd be all too easy for her to adjust her grip and pull that trigger if she wanted to. Harold doubted he'd be able to react in time, not without being in a state where he'd jump her for any sudden movements. He'd also be a hard target to miss, given his size and their proximity. "If you don't wanna do that, that's fine, I'll just close this door and you can go on your way, alright?"
It'd be easy to leave it at that, so naturally Harold couldn't. Everyone was worked up, now, himself included. If Lizzie or the person outside had any bad intentions, things could go real bad, real quick. What he needed to do was stay calm, breathe, exhale. Think about how to de-escalate the situation. Once you have to resort to violence, there's no going back, so it's best to take all the time in the world to get to that point. Harold glanced at Ty, by the door. Worst comes to worst, he'd have Harold's back if things went south.
Well, they wouldn't get anywhere all separated like this, calling back and forth through the doorway. It's a whole lot easier to mistrust a disembodied voice than a fellow human being you're face to face with. Harold'd have to remedy that. All else failed, he'd be the first line of defense, or at least the canary in a coal mine.
He stepped out into the hallway, sword by his side. Astrid was a few feet away from the door, easy to pick out of a crowd as ever. Harold didn't know her, but it's hard to miss a girl with an eyepatch, especially when she was almost as tall as him. It was harder to miss the gun she was aiming at the ceiling. "Hey. If you're sticking around, I think we'd all feel a bit more comfortable if you put that away," Harold called out, locking eyes with her. The way Astrid held her gun made it look like she didn't want a fight, but it'd be all too easy for her to adjust her grip and pull that trigger if she wanted to. Harold doubted he'd be able to react in time, not without being in a state where he'd jump her for any sudden movements. He'd also be a hard target to miss, given his size and their proximity. "If you don't wanna do that, that's fine, I'll just close this door and you can go on your way, alright?"
A wry smile appeared on Astrid's face in response to the other girl's reaction; an overreaction, really, as far as she saw it, and a reaction that showed a complete lack of awareness of the situation they were in. Was she going to react that poorly to every loud noise that occurred around her? Was she going to assume that every area on the island was a safe haven for her and get surprised every time someone barged in uninvited? Either this girl was naïve as all hell, or she was just stupid. Neither was a good luck for her.
The plan that had been forming since Astrid had woken up in the bell tower, thudding away in the back of her mind, was growing larger and larger with every second, looking like the only logical option, no matter how much she didn't want that to be true.
There was a voice from inside the room, male this time. She recognised it, but that meant very little. Astrid could recognise the voices of most people in her year, but that didn't mean she could put a name or a face to them. There were very few people who she could identify by how they sounded alone, and those were the few people Astrid was close to at school. This voice's owner was completely unknown to Astrid, which meant they weren't someone she had any reason to care about.
Astrid didn't respond to the voice. She wasn't prepared to yet. She told herself it was because she could hear someone else walking out of the room towards her, that she wanted to hear what they had to say first. But that wasn't even close to being the main reason why she didn't say her name just yet.
She was keeping her options open. Yeah. That's all she was doing. That was a lie she could believe.
The new guy was another person Astrid didn't recognise. She seen him around school, but that was the extent of their association. Another effective stranger. Another person whose fate, at this moment in time, Astrid had very little interest in.
Whilst Harold's future was something Astrid didn't particularly care about, right now, he was a figure in her own present, and that was something she did care about. Instinctively, she took a step backwards, getting a little more space between them both, glancing him up and down. He was big, tall, and obviously physically strong. On top of that, he was holding a sword, pointed down at the floor, a mirror of Astrid's gun aimed at the ceiling. The worst part was that she didn't know what this guy was like, emotionally. Was he laidback and logical? Or irrational and quick to anger. Astrid had no clue, and because of that, she had to assume it was the latter. A gun didn't mean much if her neck was broken before she could pull the trigger.
"How about this?" Astrid replied. She lowered the gun, and stuffed it in her jacket pocket, zipping it back up. "I'm not here to start a fight or anything stupid like that, but I'm not letting this leave my side. You alright with that?"
Astrid didn't wait for an answer, slowly walking forwards towards the entrance of the room. She kept the boy in her field of vision, turning her head slightly and looking him dead in the eyes. She was going to show this boy respect, but only to an extent. She deserved respect as well. She wasn't just another number, ready to be shoved around and told what to do. That had never been who she was.
Astrid stood in the doorway, took a look into the room, and felt her heart sink a little. The other girl was in there, out of the way and irrelevant, but the third person was instantly recognisable, even if they didn't share any of the same interests or social circles. Ty Yazzie attracted attention and notoriety like flies to a corpse. He was another big, strong guy, and whilst Astrid generally turned her nose up at anything that was brought up by the rumour mill, even she had heard that Ty had a tendency towards violence and aggression. This was definitely a situation she was going to have to keep her wits about her in.
She hoped, and feared, that Ty didn't recognise her.
The plan that had been forming since Astrid had woken up in the bell tower, thudding away in the back of her mind, was growing larger and larger with every second, looking like the only logical option, no matter how much she didn't want that to be true.
There was a voice from inside the room, male this time. She recognised it, but that meant very little. Astrid could recognise the voices of most people in her year, but that didn't mean she could put a name or a face to them. There were very few people who she could identify by how they sounded alone, and those were the few people Astrid was close to at school. This voice's owner was completely unknown to Astrid, which meant they weren't someone she had any reason to care about.
Astrid didn't respond to the voice. She wasn't prepared to yet. She told herself it was because she could hear someone else walking out of the room towards her, that she wanted to hear what they had to say first. But that wasn't even close to being the main reason why she didn't say her name just yet.
She was keeping her options open. Yeah. That's all she was doing. That was a lie she could believe.
The new guy was another person Astrid didn't recognise. She seen him around school, but that was the extent of their association. Another effective stranger. Another person whose fate, at this moment in time, Astrid had very little interest in.
Whilst Harold's future was something Astrid didn't particularly care about, right now, he was a figure in her own present, and that was something she did care about. Instinctively, she took a step backwards, getting a little more space between them both, glancing him up and down. He was big, tall, and obviously physically strong. On top of that, he was holding a sword, pointed down at the floor, a mirror of Astrid's gun aimed at the ceiling. The worst part was that she didn't know what this guy was like, emotionally. Was he laidback and logical? Or irrational and quick to anger. Astrid had no clue, and because of that, she had to assume it was the latter. A gun didn't mean much if her neck was broken before she could pull the trigger.
"How about this?" Astrid replied. She lowered the gun, and stuffed it in her jacket pocket, zipping it back up. "I'm not here to start a fight or anything stupid like that, but I'm not letting this leave my side. You alright with that?"
Astrid didn't wait for an answer, slowly walking forwards towards the entrance of the room. She kept the boy in her field of vision, turning her head slightly and looking him dead in the eyes. She was going to show this boy respect, but only to an extent. She deserved respect as well. She wasn't just another number, ready to be shoved around and told what to do. That had never been who she was.
Astrid stood in the doorway, took a look into the room, and felt her heart sink a little. The other girl was in there, out of the way and irrelevant, but the third person was instantly recognisable, even if they didn't share any of the same interests or social circles. Ty Yazzie attracted attention and notoriety like flies to a corpse. He was another big, strong guy, and whilst Astrid generally turned her nose up at anything that was brought up by the rumour mill, even she had heard that Ty had a tendency towards violence and aggression. This was definitely a situation she was going to have to keep her wits about her in.
She hoped, and feared, that Ty didn't recognise her.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017