AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH

[Melusine]

((Dot's V6 start))
Dorothy was sitting up, her back against the wall and her head hanging low. Saliva was escaping from mouth, pooling on her chin and dripping on the ground. This unflattering position was recorded by not one, but two cameras pointed at her. Her left hand was wrapped around the handle of the bag and her right hand was laying beside her hips.

Then she awakened. Her whole body jerked forward as if she was electroshocked and she gasped for air as if she spent too much time underwater. Her eyes opened and they met the darkness of the room. Her thought process was primitive and primal, she had run away somewhere far and safe but her body was too weak to move yet because of the drug and her body not responding to her demands.

So, she only let out a scream.

She waited a full minute, still hyperventilating and jumping at every noises, to let her eyes adapt to the darkness, there was rats in here? Dorothy raised herself up, scouting for grips and obstacles with her hands. That didn't stopped her from knocking her head on a shelf, though. It kinda hurt but she was relieved to find something to guide herself, her eyes were fully ready to tackle the room and to find the way out announced by the light coming under what appeared to be a door.

She continued to head toward the light, using her hands and her bag to avoid hitting herself against whatever things laying around. She had to find a way to opened and escape from this place because being trapped here won't get her nowhere.  


She searched the handle on the door and found it by knocking her hip against it. Ouch. She left her bag on the ground and wrapped her hands around it.

One, two, three: pull!

It was working but only half way, something appeared to be blocking it from opening fully. The light from the outside was so strong, it blinded her for a couple of seconds, forcing her to close her eyes shut. She used that time to push her bag to the other side with her left foot. She kicked it just to make her sure it wasn't under the edge of the door. It was her turn, now.

She changed her grip from the knob to the edge of the door. With one swift movement, she struggled to pass through, scratching her body. Her head and arms were on the other side but not her lower body. She kicked and wailed, and finally, pass through with the only casualty being a tear in her leggings.

She was outside, finally. She dropped down beside her bag, her glasses steamy from her panting, hugged her knees, and let out a sob.

[dmboogie]

"Yeah, we're all gonna die. We're all gonna die!"

((Asha Sur is doing her best.))

Legs dangling off the edge of the docks, eyes fixed at the churning waves below her, Asha couldn't help but sing, not caring if there was anyone around to hear. The metal support wasn't exactly the most comfortable seating, but as a goth and a ballerina, Asha knew all about suffering for the sake of aesthetic.

Really, of all the fucking ways to die, Asha had to end up with one that'd make the world news. Oh, no, car crashes, tripping down the stairs, or a long, debilitating illness would be far too pedestrian. Really, the sheer improbability of SOTF happening to her made the whole thing hilarious. Of all the schools in the United States of America, the terrorists had to go for one of the ones without a senior trip. Maybe they'd seen it as a challenge. An all-you-can-eat hubris buffet.

"Kiss your ass goodbye!" She shouted, then burst into hysterical laughter. Oh, blood was beautiful if you framed it right, but it decidedly lost its appeal once it was pooling under what had been a real living, feeling human being. At least she hadn't died for the purpose of being a glorified exclamation mark.

And oh, she would die. It wasn't even a question. Not worth thinking about. Once she accepted that, she'd have a hell of a lot more freedom with how to live the rest of her life. Asha hadn't quite gotten to that point yet, but she felt it was worth making an effort.

The thought of death had never really scared her. The things that would come immediately before death might be terrifying, and Asha had no particular desire to feel excruciating pain, but once everything was all said and done, it'd be over. Either she'd still exist or she wouldn't, and either way there wasn't much point in worrying about it beforehand.

That's the headspace she was trying to cram herself into. She'd behave like she was already dead, with nothing left to lose! If the outcome was certain, if nothing ultimately mattered, why spend her remaining hours on earth clinging to a single desperate thread that'd lead her out of the labyrinth before an overgrown cow ate her face, only to be beheaded by the king outside? Why care about trust, or caution, when getting it over with quickly would only make things easier for everyone?

Not that Asha wanted to die now, of course. She was rather attached to her life. Being alive's a hard habit to break. Accepting her imminent demise wasn't a matter of sorrow or hopelessness, it just meant that she could focus her attention on spreading as many positive vibes as she could before someone got around to (painlessly, hopefully) booting her off this mortal plane. Being nice to people felt nice, and if Asha could have just one positive conversation with her classmates, brighten just one person's day a bit, make life a bit more bearable, her time on the island would be worth it. Hell, maybe it'd make people less eager to stab her in the back. She'd have a good time, they'd have a good time, everyone lived for a while longer!

Nihilism didn't have to be negative and destructive.

If her life was pointless, now, Asha'd just have to draw a brave face on the blunt edge. Jump into the screaming void with a song in her heart and a smile on her face. Turn herself into a shining beacon of light, light a candle in the darkness if only so she can wave "hi" to the beautiful, horrific monster that's about to kill her.

Oh. Speaking of which. Asha turned her head and saw the crying, screaming girl burst out of the building behind her. The grin on her face froze for a moment, turning into a concerned frown. Asha liked Dorothy! She was nice! And she sure as hell looked like she could use a friend right now. Asha took a deep breath, plastered a smile back on her face. Hopefully it looked natural, and not a pained, unnatural rictus. She'd spent a lot of time practicing smiling in the worst way possible, so she'd have to hope those instincts were failing her now.

She carefully walked up to Dorothy, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on the sobbing girl's shoulder. "Hey, Dorothy. I'm here for you. The world hasn't ended yet, yeah? We're both alive and it's a beautiful morning on death island," Asha said, unfortunately forgetting that not everyone found gallows humor to be a relaxing pastime.

[Melusine]

Dorothy could hear her mother say, "Don't worry let it all out." She could hear the microwave buzzing while she was making a hot chocolate. She could feel the warmth of her mother's delicate hand on her shoulder.

But she didn't hear her mother's voice.

She snapped back to reality, she was on an island with her friends with weapons because of a bunch of psycho terrorists.

However, her first encounter was a friendly one. She knew who it was the second the person spoke. The morbid sense of humor gave it away.

"Asha...?" Dorothy turned around and yelled, "Asha! Oh my god, thank you so much! I knew I could always count on you!"

Okay, maybe that last part was exaggerated but truly, it wasn't a big deal on the island. She had worse problem.

She lunged toward Asha, aiming for the legs. Her prey was surprised and she didn't stand a chance. She should have run when she had the chance, it was too late for the goth ballet dancer.

She gave her a nice, big hug.

"I'm so happy to have you around!"

[Grim Wolf]

(ENTER: Alex Tarquin from Those Who Play The Most Dangerous Game)

Truth be told, Alex felt a little bit like he was going mad.

He tried to make sure there was no trace of that uncertainty on his face.  He loped down the long cliffs easily enough, the ridiculous sword on his back adjusted so it didn't bang against his thighs as he ran.  He made sure to keep the machete in his left hand pointed down (no running with scissors, blade pointed down! simple safety procedures in the middle of this lunatic place), and periodically adjusted his heavy bag.  In fact, he allowed himself to smile slightly.  Alexander David Tarquin does not fear your insane island!  Alex Tarquin is confident!  Alex Tarquin cracks wise in the face of danger!

Alex Tarquin feels like he is about to vomit.

Worse than any stage fright of his life.  The anxiety of performance plus the drained aftertaste of an adrenaline rush testifying to the fact that he is jumping at every sound he hears.  He is trying to hide that fact: when he hears something, he does not snap his head but turns it imperiously, as though surveying his domain.  And as he does it, he has to fight every instinct in his body, every muscle in his neck screaming to see this potential danger sooner.

How ridiculous he must seem!  Reluctant, melodramatic movements!  And this outfit!  Red satin shirt and designer jeans, what the hell was he thinking?  This was a science trip long before it became a death trap, and he is not dressed for either one!  He is in desperate need of a change of clothes.  He must look the part, yes, but he must also be ready to act the part, and this outfit will not do.

There is another part to his facade, one he could never have confessed to Tara and Lizzie, though he came close when Tara hung on the cliff's edge.  It is vanity.  They are on camera.  They will die.  That has its role here: one day the whole world will watch, and Alex Tarquin cannot allow the idea that he will die ingloriously.  

So.  Find the right clothes.  Make sure he looks the part.

He stopped at a comfortable lea, examined his map for the first time.  Was this...were they in an asylum of some kind?  He imagined they found that funny: a lunatic asylum host to sane students driven mad by necessity.  Though it was hard to argue the possible symbolism involved.  He'd have to look into that.

stupid stupid stupid this place is real you're going to die

He swallowed down that ugly thought, and headed for the main warehouse located by the docks.  It took him a little time to pick his way across overgrown roads and uneven slopes, and as he drew closer he spied two figures, standing near what seemed to be the entrance to the building.  He hesitated, remembering the boy from the video, remembering Mr. Graham.  His confident smile flickered out.  His eyes bugged wide, and his grip tightened on his machete.

no no no cameras all around you stop acting even for a moment and they will see they will know you're not larger than life you could die just like Mr. Graham just click and gone while you sleep no no no no no

A smile unfolded across his face, masking his panicked thoughts.  "HELLO!" he shouted, raising his right hand in a careless wave, striding towards them as though his legs weren't shaking at the idea that there was a gun in one of their hands that they would pull and fire and he would fall just like that-

[dmboogie]

Well, Dorothy certainly went from desolate to overjoyed in the blink of an eye. Asha hadn't expected her words to have that dramatic an effect, but she sure as hell wasn't complaining. She supposed it was a shame that she would no longer have any use of her legs, but it was a worthy price to pay for a happy friend. Asha patted her on the head. "You can bet I'm not leaving ya anytime soon!" Now all she had to do was make sure she could live up to these words. Oh, how she hated liars.

That was about to be tested, it seemed. Someone Asha recognized as a drama kid was dramatically running at them with a machete. Well, hopefully not running at them with a machete, but running at them while coincidentally having a machete in their hands. A world of nuance, there. The fact that he had the decency to shout a (seemingly strained) greeting let Asha hope that he wasn't in the mood for a fight.

She'd hoped to not have to test her newfound philosophy so soon, but it didn't seem like she had any other choice. Didn't help that Dorothy was still pinning her down. That wasn't her fault, though! Hugs were good and should happen as much as practical! Worst came to worst, Asha could distract the maniac long enough to let Dorothy make a break for it. Time to do or die, or maybe do by dying. Either worked, honestly.

"Hey there, Mr. Machete!" Asha shouted to Alex, broadly waving. "Welcome to the party!"

[Melusine]

Wait, since when we had a Mr. Machete involved in this hugging session? Wasn't he a bit too old to be part of the student body? Wasn't he also busy with Spy Kids 4 or something? Unless the terrorists kidnapped both the cast of a movie and the students from Cochise, that'd be a mess to handle. Especially with the autograph an-

She was going on a mental tangent, if Mr. Machete was truly here, he could get us out of here by slashed the terrorists to death! If he wasn't, then maybe Dot and Asha had a problem incoming.

Sadly, it was the latter.

Yup, it was obviously not him, he was not Mexican, had a mustache, and was a wall of muscle, but he had a machete in his hand. Oh Asha, if you could only have called him by his name, you wouldn't have give false hope to Dorothy, but she found her funny. It wasn't the only thing funny about the scene, Alexander was dressed up like in a carnival with his fancy red shirt and his really expensive looking jeans.

Dorothy untangled her arm from Asha's legs, she wished she could have hugged her for a while longer but there was a man with a gigantic knife going toward them so she decided it could wait. She wiped the remnants of her tears an sniffed one time. She realized, however, he wasn't only going toward the girls to find help and be friends, he looked sweaty and exhausted and... was he running?

Oh, oh. That could really, really be bad.

She was still on her knees, slowly trying to stand again, not too fast to scare the man and not too slow to get chopped in half. She really had to stop exaggerating, this was a life or death situation, he wouldn't cut her in half. Maybe she lose a lot and a lot of blood and an internal organ or two, but that's not half. The idea of her laying there though, on the dock, open for everyone to see truly sent chills down her back and made her twitch a little.

She used the handle of the door she used to leave the building as a way to prop herself up. Her right hand wrapped around the handle of the bag. There wasn't anything to say, Asha was already doing the talking but if she needed help, she'd join her. If Asha was truly there for Dorothy, then she had to be there for Asha.

That's how friendship works,

[Grim Wolf]

Alex's face wrinkled in distaste.  "Mr. Machete?" he repeated.  "We can do better for a hero name, can't we?  How about Monsieur Machete?  Or Machete Master?"

Good, light and breezy, effortless.  A man utterly in command of his circumstances.  The kind of man who could exceed this ghastly game.

"If this is a party!" he continued, closing the distant between them.  "I intend to crash it."

get close to them

A whisper in the back of his head.  Neither of them had shown any weapons, but if they had anything better than a sword, he'd only have a chance if he was in slashing range.  To cut them open, to lay them bare, to take and live and-

No no no no no I am not that I am me I am Alexander David Tarquin I am not afraid of them they should be afraid of me!

But the scene of that boy being gunned down kept playing through his head.

"Of course," he said.  "I don't think I can do that looking like a gigolo."  He gestured vaguely down at his body with the blade of the machete.  "I'm pretty sure I need a change of clothes.  Hence my being here."

He stopped a little ways from them, some six feet.  He smiled, and he thought he managed to come off as pretty disarming.  "Don't suppose you lovely ladies could point the way?"

[dmboogie]

Nice, Asha's legs didn't have to be amputated after all. Now that Dorothy had let go, that meant that Asha could actually stand between her and Alex, too. Asha knew she didn't cut the most imposing figure, seeing as how Alex was practically a foot taller than her, but intimidation had never been the name of her game. Well, not traditional intimidation, at least. She bet that she could do wonders with a dark room and a creepy laugh, but that'd have to be an experiment for another day. The last thing Asha wanted Alex to be was scared.

Instead, Asha walked even closer to the dramatic drama kid, a smile on her face, stopping when she was only a few feet away from him. Hopefully she looked disarming, herself. Her fingers itched to brush against the taser she had hidden in her skirt pocket (a damn cute skirt with actual pockets, Asha had considered it the find of a lifetime even before it had come in handy on death island) but she resisted the urge, not wanting to look like she was reaching for a weapon. No need to give Alex a legitimate reason to use that pretty blade of his.

"Hard to say! I've only just woken up, you see," Asha said, exaggeratedly tilting her head in confusion, finger lightly tapping her chin in a universal gesture of thought. "If only we'd been given a little advance notice, we could all be looking our Sunday best right now!" If you were going to end up as a corpse either way, might as well save the undertaker the effort of dressing your carcass up. Looking like an elegant, refined ghost girl in a pale dress would have been ideal, of course, but Asha thought she'd done the best with what she had.

"Looks like we're right in front of a storehouse," she said, gesturing towards the entrance. "Could be that they have some hospital uniforms stashed away in there. Fancy taking a crack at running the asylum?" Asha laughed, hoping it didn't sound forced. Using levity as a weapon could only work if people thought you genuinely seemed to believe what you were saying. Better to be thought of as crazy than deceitful, any day of the week.

[Iceblock†]

((Wayne Cox continued from Morphogenetic Fear))

He had thought he had heard Darius's voice at one point, carrying over the sound of wind and waves, as he began to pass the building that had a helicopter dangling off of it. But perhaps it was just his imagination.

Wayne walked, because when he put one foot after the other, he didn't have to think. That was what he had always done - not think. He hadn't thought about tests he had to study for. He hadn't thought about homework he'd put off. He just fired up a video game and lost himself in it until it was too late. Then he filed his failures away. Pretended not to care.

There were no video games here. He'd settled for walking.

It wasn't good enough. The thoughts still came, now that the panic had retreated to the edges of his mind. He'd mugged someone - or would have, if she'd been closer to her bag and able to defend it. The distance between his intentions and his actual actions didn't matter. He would have mugged her. With knife, if necessary. Just because he had happened to only steal her rations didn't lessen his intended crime.

There were no excuses, really.

So when he walked much too close to a group of people that he could have rightly avoided if he hadn't been wrapped up in himself - he thought he probably deserved it.

He couldn't very well pass by unseen. So he moved closer, his hands held up halfheartedly, as if to show he meant no harm. Asha. Alex. Some junior. They could kill him. Easily.

Perhaps he deserved that, too.

[Melusine]

Dorothy fully trusted Asha. She knew that she was doing her best to get Monsieur Machete away from them. She wasn't necessarly scared of him. He was just walking around with a machete, chances are planning to murder them and cut their body in tiny pieces, and maybe even eat them. Cannibalism wasn't forbidden on the island, and it could even be a good source of food if they ate all of their rations.

Dorothy cleared her mind, she really needed to stop going on tangents whenever stuff happened around her. Daydreaming and thinking about something else than this place was fun though and she coul-

Stop this right now, get on track. While Asha was distracting Alex, she peeked a look in her bag. There was two sticks, about the length of the bag but a little bit short on exiting the bag. A paper slip, which she guessed was supposed to be intact, laid in between, crumbled.

"Dorothy Shelley. Escrima stick x 2."

They appeared to be made of wood, they were painted black and they had a white and red spiral pattern around them. They really looked pretty. She ran her finger against one of them, some parts were bigger and other smaller. It reminded her of bamboo sticks she saw on television once. And while checking out pandas too on Youtube. They were so cute, but apparently pooped a lot: the opposite of cute.

She eyed the scene, could she just walk up to him and whack him? No, that wasn't in her field of capacities. She'd rather talk it out and be nice, and offer hugs and to trade weapons and alliances and whatnot. Could Asha do it? Maybe, but she couldn't just give her one of the stick without Alex noticing. If he noticed something was up, he could charged and tried to murder them. She didn't know about Asha's weapon either. Maybe she had a gun, and just waited to brandish it to scare him away. If she waved it around, maybe he'll run away with his tail in between his legs.

But someone else showed up. This will not turn out well if people just kept adding themselves to the party. More people meant more weapons laying around. If one person just decided, they could just kill them all. She answered to Wayne's waving with a small "Hi." and an even smaller wave from her position. She realized that being half-seated and half-standing wasn't good if she had to run, so she raised herself a tiny bit more.

[decoy73]

((Female Student #42: Sabrina Luz - GAME START))

Numb.

Sabrina Luz was barely feeling anything right now, even with both her bags. She had been sobbing for the better part of an hour when she realized that she was essentially going to die. Even if she lived, nobody else would. she'd have to kill her friends, she'd possibly have to kill Emma. This sucked, and there was nothing she could do.

So now, she was walking around red-eyed, just waiting, or something. She didn't know, and she wasn't sure she cared, either.

[Grim Wolf]

For a moment, things were light and easy. For a moment, they were calm and casual, and Alex felt like the cool master of danger he was pretending to be.

And then.

A man emerged, hands in the air, wordless. His gesture said surrender, so why did he send a jolt of fear through Alex? Just the idea of being so surprised by the unexpected? Alex flinched, his machete jerked, his jaw clenched-

Remember. Always watching.

He turned the flinch into a casual rolling shrug, shifting his machete back to his shoulder. "Looks like we have company," he said. "No need to have your hands up, friend. Just keep a respectful distance and I think we'll all get along splendidly."

[dmboogie]

Oh, joy, more company! If you looked at things like an off-brand Demons and Exorcists puzzle, this could either be very good or very bad. Asha knew Wayne, sort of, he did art stuff and that made him cool in her book. That wasn't enough to really judge how he would act when the world was ending around him, unfortunately, so the real problem came with how he had unbalanced their tidy little arrangement.

Asha and Dot were cute and innocent demons, of course, which made Alex the fanatical exorcist. Exorcists were a cowardly lot so they only felt comfortable taking on a demon if they had at least equal numbers, which they hadn't before. Their conversation had seemed to disarm Alex well enough, he still seemed on-edge but Asha didn't think they were in any immediate danger of unpleasantness breaking out. After all, even with a weapon, he was still one against two. The three of them could cross the metaphorical river over to the other side without any problems.

Wayne was a big ol' question mark. He hadn't said anything at all, and wasn't brandishing a weapon. The way he waved his invisible white flag of surrender did make him seem scared, but was it an act? Was he a demon whose presence could further dissuade Alex from violence? Or was he an exorcist who would take the chance to team up with Alex and banish Asha and Dot?

Well, whatever. Asha remained determined to not let that be anything more than a fun thought experiment. She'd already made the decision not to mistrust anyone, so her course of action would remain the same wherever it lead her. Set sail for banal conversation.

"Heeey, Wayne!" Asha called out, waving. "No need to be nervous, four people makes a full party after all! Didja bring refreshments for everyone?"

[Iceblock†]

Wayne wasn't feeling like drawing lines at the moment.

The whole situation made him uneasy. No matter how they greeted him, it felt wrong. He half-expected that in another instant, they would see right through him, and their expressions would turn to anger and disgust as they realized what he had done.

Alex and the junior acted so casual, and Asha so... cheery. Perhaps he really had been the only one to lose his mind, while everyone else discussed the situation like reasonable, decent people.

Perhaps not. As he let his shoulders tense and untense, lowering his hands, his eyes caught on the sword on Alex's back. Two weapons. Not one. Somewhere out there, someone was weaponless. Somewhere out there, someone might be dead.

"I'll keep my distance," Wayne said, forcing his reluctant feet forward. "Hey yourself, Asha. Afraid that's a no on the refreshments unless you're looking to split a ration bar as a delicacy."

Refreshments. Seventeen ration bars and five bottles of water. Ten plus seven and four plus one to calculate the weight of his guilt; Asha, all smiles, venturing too close to the truth.

"Were you three just talking?"

[Melusine]

Someone else walked in. They went from three to four people. Two of them being older than Dorothy and much scarier than Asha. At least she knew her friend wouldn't kill her but what about the two other boys.

She reminded herself she still had two martial art stick and Asha had her own unknown weapon unless she had something bad for a weapon like a flower or something. If that was the case, maybe she could give her one stick and keep the other.

Confrontation was not an option, it truly wasn't for now. Fighting was unacceptable because that's what the monsters who locked them here wanted. They wanted them to fight to the death until one remains, but they still had control over their actions. She was maybe stuck here and the terrorists would certainly laugh at her when she'd act out on her pacifist plan. She knew dying will suck but dying without hurting anyone, without destroying the lives of everyone around them, without making her parents wonder where they went wrong was a comfort despite the situation.

She wanted to die herself, not to live by absorbing the lives of everyone around her.

Now, she had to test out the theory to practice.

"We were chatting about nothing, really," she was off a nice start, right? No threats, no insults, not a bad tone just her regular self.

"Machete over there walked in and he asked for a place to get changed, o-or something like that."

She was hit by a wave of negativity. She started to fiddle with her bracelet on her right wrist.