((Gloria Benson continued from I Swear I Won't Shoot))
Gloria stumbled a bit, falling to her hands and knees as the announcement finally ended. Her palms got scraped a bit, but she didn't care, or even notice, for that matter. Her duffel sliding down her arm and hitting the ground beside her, Gloria stared at the ground, shoulders shaking as she wept. Nothing new for her, since coming to this place.
"N--N..no..." she sobbed, tears falling onto the lenses of her glasses and blurring her vision even worse. "N-No...c-can't be..."
"Hey, you two...why don't I help you with those?"
....
"A-Ah, fire! Simon, watch out!"
It hadn't even been her Simon's name announced in this one...it was another Simon entirely, different last name and everything. She'd never met that Simon.
Simon...
But that name had snapped her back to the previous announcement, when she'd been too panicked, too worried she'd been on the Danger Zone part of the beach, to realize his name had been read--and not as a killer, but a victim. "S-S-Simon..." she sobbed again, hiccuping once. It wasn't fair...Simon could never hold in a fight, she thought, he shouldn't have even been here--if she'd come up with something better for them to do instead of a trip, maybe...
Remembering her companion, Gloria tried to rise up, back onto her knees. She left her bag where it lay, clumsily wiping her eyes under her glasses, streaking the tears across the glass. "I--I...s-sorry...I--I..." she hiccuped again. "B-But m--my...my b-best...best friend's..." She shook her head, not wanting to say it. "H-He..."
"Do you think everyone'll like the churros? Even if they are a bit burned?"
"H-He...D-Dad and he m-m-must...b-be making ch-churros together," she sniffled, a tiny smile appearing on her face through the tears. She knew it didn't make any sense, but she liked to think of it that way. "I...I s-sorry...Th-the lead--leader do-doesn't cry..." she whispered. "'m...l-leader...don't cry..." Finally turning to look at Michael, she bit at her lip in an attempt to stop the hiccups and sobs coming from her mouth. "Th--there...what...d-do...?" she tried to say, gesturing vaguely at the homes around them, hoping he got the message.
No Crying Allowed
Day Four
No Crying Allowed
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Moth. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
(George Leidman continued from She Bopped)
George felt like shit, and looked about the same. Dirt caked his clothes and hair, his left sneaker had been left unlaced, and as for the man himself...
Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him...
By the look in George's eyes, one would draw the reasonable conclusion that he had been subjected to things unspeakable, but no, he had merely lost the love of his life. Schlepping along, barely acknowledging the buildings that he had cut between, George stumbled into the main street of the Residential Area with no clear destination in mind. He was merely walking, doing something to pass the time between the moment he woke up to the moment he died. Not helping matters was the fact that he had spent at least 18 hours without rest. That sort of thing would kill somebody.
Oh look, people. Who cares?
Indeed, George caught sight of a pair of folks soon after entering this area. This became a dull reminder in the back of his mind that he probably needed a weapon of some kind if he was gonna kill Sebastian. But that could wait. He wasn't in any hurry to bash people's brains out. Still, he found himself glancing around anyway. He saw a fence that could be used, maybe some piping on the side of a house, or perhaps use his herculean strength to kick a piece off a door if he had herculean strength, which he didn't, so why bother. Oh the possibilities.
In his furor to find something to kill people with, George realized that he was still walking towards the two folks, and he hadn't even said anything. But what was there to say? 'Hello? I think that you're a killer, so go away?' He wasn't trusting anybody anymore, no sir. Being friendly had done nothing for him. Instead, he simply gave them a withering glance and began shoulder bashing the door to a nearby house, not even acknowledging that it was probably unlocked. Taking a large step back, George charged the door and went stumbling on through, falling into the main area of a very small house.
Gotta find something to kill that guy. Gonna kill him, gonna make him pay.
A small wooden chair caught George's eye. The house didn't have much in the ways of weapons, but maybe he'd be able to find something else. For now, the chair would suffice. Using the chair as a support to pull himself back to his feet, George sat himself down and leaned back, looking around at the dusty house. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn't. Sebastian would want him to cry, to curl up in a ball and just starve himself to death, but George wouldn't, not until justice had been served.
I couldn't stop him. I couldn't...but I'll kill him. Sebastian's gonna pay.
George felt like shit, and looked about the same. Dirt caked his clothes and hair, his left sneaker had been left unlaced, and as for the man himself...
Gonna kill him. Gonna kill him...
By the look in George's eyes, one would draw the reasonable conclusion that he had been subjected to things unspeakable, but no, he had merely lost the love of his life. Schlepping along, barely acknowledging the buildings that he had cut between, George stumbled into the main street of the Residential Area with no clear destination in mind. He was merely walking, doing something to pass the time between the moment he woke up to the moment he died. Not helping matters was the fact that he had spent at least 18 hours without rest. That sort of thing would kill somebody.
Oh look, people. Who cares?
Indeed, George caught sight of a pair of folks soon after entering this area. This became a dull reminder in the back of his mind that he probably needed a weapon of some kind if he was gonna kill Sebastian. But that could wait. He wasn't in any hurry to bash people's brains out. Still, he found himself glancing around anyway. He saw a fence that could be used, maybe some piping on the side of a house, or perhaps use his herculean strength to kick a piece off a door if he had herculean strength, which he didn't, so why bother. Oh the possibilities.
In his furor to find something to kill people with, George realized that he was still walking towards the two folks, and he hadn't even said anything. But what was there to say? 'Hello? I think that you're a killer, so go away?' He wasn't trusting anybody anymore, no sir. Being friendly had done nothing for him. Instead, he simply gave them a withering glance and began shoulder bashing the door to a nearby house, not even acknowledging that it was probably unlocked. Taking a large step back, George charged the door and went stumbling on through, falling into the main area of a very small house.
Gotta find something to kill that guy. Gonna kill him, gonna make him pay.
A small wooden chair caught George's eye. The house didn't have much in the ways of weapons, but maybe he'd be able to find something else. For now, the chair would suffice. Using the chair as a support to pull himself back to his feet, George sat himself down and leaned back, looking around at the dusty house. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn't. Sebastian would want him to cry, to curl up in a ball and just starve himself to death, but George wouldn't, not until justice had been served.
I couldn't stop him. I couldn't...but I'll kill him. Sebastian's gonna pay.
-
Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
{{continued from Final Third Foul}}
Is there was something to describe how Maria felt at this moment, it would probably be this:
Note the sad blue background of depression, the broken vase of guilt, the annoying douchebag who just stole the last piece of cake of frustration. Also, that Phanto is probably up to no good as well.
Maria really wanted to stop feeling like this. Crack a few jokes, talk about some silly things and make this horrible feeling vanish into the ether, and then she could just forget about it for a while. But it was damn persistent, pressing down on her and keeping her from even making an attempt. So she went along with Duncan and Cass in silence, only speaking when spoken to, and only with a simple nod or a grunt in response.
As they continued, Maria saw a familiar collection of buildings, and realized that they were right back at the Residential District. Frustration began to well up inside her. How the hell were they going to find people trying to escape if they were just going to go around in circles!? But she was answered by a sudden blurring of her vision and a bit of wobbling, reminding her that it was getting late, and that she hadn't slept since yesterday.
"Uh...we should probably get some sleep once we get there."
"Huh? Oh, okay." Duncan said in response, looking at Maria with concern. After all, she looked awfully pale ever since they left the docks, and he was starting to worry that she might pass out.
As they caught up with the residential district the three of them headed to a nearby grocery store, sadly already stripped of anything useful. Sitting down near the frozen food aisle, the three of them dug out their rations and ate, Maria looking up at the shelves and at the price tags of various flavors of ice cream, taunting her.
"Hmm...Rocky Road..." Maria said suddenly
"Huh?" Duncan replied, looking up from his loaf of bread.
"I could really go for some Rocky Road right now."
Duncan stared at Maria with a confused look on his face, before his gaze moved over to the shelves and he saw what Maria was talking about.
"Oooh, right. I always preferred sherbet myself."
"Oh yeah, that rainbow stuff, right?"
"Yeah."
The bout of conversation gave way to a long silence before Maria spoke up again.
"I wonder if the others at the rec center are okay."
"Others?" Duncan wracked his brain for a moment before he remembered that there was a bunch of people pouring out of the rec center before he came in and found Maria and Cass. "Oh yeah..." Remember it also reminded him of Trent and that timid girl, and he found himself wondering if the two of them were okay, too.
"I...other than Zach and Dustin, I don't know any of their names, so even if they came up on the announcements, I wouldn't even recognize them." Maria said, letting out a sigh.
The silence returned, and once the three of them finished their meals they decided to hit the sack, the three of them propped up against one of the glass doors, leaning against each other. Just before she drifted off to sleep, Maria found that she'd finally forgotten about her troubles for that moment, and as she nuzzled up against an already asleep Duncan and put an arm around Cass she wished that morning didn't have to come.
----------
"Hey."
Maria woke up to a girl leaning in, inches away from her face and staring at her intently. She didn't say anything else, though. Just stared, as if she were expecting her to reply.
"Uh...hey."
"Come on." The girl said, extending an arm to her. "I've got something I want to show you, and there isn't a lot of time."
Maria was understandably confused as she stared back at this girl, with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in a sky blue t-shirt with a picture of a crab on the front and blue jeans. There was something...off about her. Well, more than what was already apparent. After a moment's hesitation, she removed her arm from around Cass, careful not to disturb her and Duncan as she took the girl's hand and was helped to her feet.
"Hey, wait a minute..." She said, looking out towards the entrance. "It's still dark o-"
"Let's go." The girl cut her off and yanked on her arm as she walked out, pulling her along as the two of them walked out of the store and down the street, the moon out in full force and illuminating the street well enough to see clearly. Maria kept staring at the girl intently, trying to figure something out, and once she did, she came to a stop, feeling the yank on her arm as the girl was stopped as well, looking back at her with confusion and a look of annoyance on her face, and as she saw her face Maria knew for sure.
"This is a dream, isn't it?"
The girl's expression changed to surprise. "How did you know?"
"Your face...you're me, aren't you?" Maria answered, looking the girl up and down. "You look a lot like how I imagined I would now if I didn't start dressing like...well, this."
The girl nodded. "Yeah, that's right." And tried to keep walking, as if she were in a hurry.
"You know..." Maria said, keeping still and looking around at the scenery. "I don't think I've ever really been aware I was in a dream before." She said. "It...doesn't really seem like one I'd have though."
The other Maria looked back at Maria with an annoyed look on her face. "Alright, fine." With a snap of her fingers, Maria heard a battle cry in the distance. Turning around, she saw Robo-Bear 5000 and Nicolas Cage in The Wicker Man in a bear costume running down the street at each other, until they met in the middle and punched each other in the face at the same time. Then they exploded.
"There. You happy now?"
"Well, there's a lot more to them than that." Maria said as she watched the smoldering wreckage.
"Oh come on, just keep going already!" The other Maria huffed and yanked on Maria's arm until she was moving again, traveling just a bit farther until they turned the corner and saw...
"...Jimmy?" Maria was taken by surprise when she saw Jimmy Brennan right in the middle of the road, bound and gagged in a chair. The other Maria pulled her over until she was right in front of her, and Jimmy let out what was, knowing Jimmy, probably a series of profanities and general shit talk.
"Alright, let's get started." The other Maria said.
"W-wait, started with what? What is he doing here? What am I doing here?"
Suddenly, Maria felt something heavy in her hand, and as she looked she let out a gasp of surprise and dropped the gun like it was a grenade with the pin pulled. "W-what the hell!?"
The other Maria sighed. "Look, I went through all this effort to set this up, so will you hurry up and shoot him already?"
"W-wha...s-s-shoot him!??" Maria said, stepping away from the gun. "What the hell is wrong with you!? Why would I do that!?"
"Because he's a killer." The other Maria gave a shrug. "You saw him, didn't you? He beat the ever-loving shit out of Phil. He was gloating the whole time, so you know he wasn't panicking or anything. He was getting a huge kick out of it. Don't you think that kind of attitude should be punished? Why should someone like him get to win the game?"
"But..." The other Maria had a point. Jimmy Brennan was a cold-blooded killer. He didn't have the excuse of self-defense, or acting in a blind panic, or anything like that. He was hurling insults at Phil the whole time. He was loving it. Even though Phil had nearly killed her, seeing something like that made her so angry."
But...
"...but I'm a killer, too." She said. "And Phil was a huge jerkface, but the person I killed was completely innocent. She didn't do anything, but I ended up killing her anyway. I don't have any right to pass judgment like that."
The other Maria let out another sigh of annoyance. "Then how about this? If you don't kill him, who's to say he won't come back and kill your friends?"
Maria froze.
"He got his first taste of blood, and he obviously loves it. Who's to say he won't end up coming back and killing them? And it's Jimmy Brennan, so you know he'll be talking shit and gloating about it the whole time."
Maria looked back at the other Maria, and then back at the gun, suddenly finding herself drawn towards it as she got the mental image of Cass, Duncan and Max on the ground, dead, with Jimmy standing over their bodies, gloating about how they didn't stand a chance, because he's Jimmy Fucking Brennan.
"And he's not the only one. There are other players too, and they'll be gunning for them as well. Are you just gonna stand back and let them get cut down just because you killed someone by accident so you don't deserve to do the same? Even if it's to protect them?"
It...it made sense. Maria reached down and picked up the gun. It wasn't a flare gun this time; it was the real deal. Some kind of automatic. She looked it over in her hand, and then back at Jimmy, who hurled another onslaught of muffled insults, and even when she couldn't understand them they were still annoying as all hell and JESUS CHRIST JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP JIMMY BRENNAN!
Maria aimed the gun at Jimmy, her aim wavering as the smell of barbecued pork came back to mind, and she began to feel nauseous again. She remembered the anguish she felt at Francine's death, and how it almost consumed her. Could she really go through all that again?
Maria closed her eyes, her hands shaking, and...
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!
Maria woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of Danya speaking, and suddenly realized that she didn't give a shit who died yesterday, she REALLY didn't want to hear the announcements. She pulled away from Cass and a rather confused-looking Duncan and bolted out the door, ignoring Duncan's calls for her to come back. She walked briskly down the street, trying to think of something, anything to drown out Danya's voice. Finally she decided to just start blaring Number of the Beast in her head.
"Anyways, first to die was-"
I lived alone
my mind was blank
I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind
"Maxwell Lombardi termina-"
What did I see?
Could I believe?
That what I saw that night was real and not just fantasy
Maria continued like this for a while, before she suddenly tripped over the sidewalk, landing with a loud "Oof!" in front of a house where a certain boy was currently sitting.
"After a day of inactivity, Reiko Ishida re-"
"Shut up..." Maria growled. "Shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP I'M NOT GONNA PLAY YOUR STUPID GAME!"
Is there was something to describe how Maria felt at this moment, it would probably be this:
Note the sad blue background of depression, the broken vase of guilt, the annoying douchebag who just stole the last piece of cake of frustration. Also, that Phanto is probably up to no good as well.
Maria really wanted to stop feeling like this. Crack a few jokes, talk about some silly things and make this horrible feeling vanish into the ether, and then she could just forget about it for a while. But it was damn persistent, pressing down on her and keeping her from even making an attempt. So she went along with Duncan and Cass in silence, only speaking when spoken to, and only with a simple nod or a grunt in response.
As they continued, Maria saw a familiar collection of buildings, and realized that they were right back at the Residential District. Frustration began to well up inside her. How the hell were they going to find people trying to escape if they were just going to go around in circles!? But she was answered by a sudden blurring of her vision and a bit of wobbling, reminding her that it was getting late, and that she hadn't slept since yesterday.
"Uh...we should probably get some sleep once we get there."
"Huh? Oh, okay." Duncan said in response, looking at Maria with concern. After all, she looked awfully pale ever since they left the docks, and he was starting to worry that she might pass out.
As they caught up with the residential district the three of them headed to a nearby grocery store, sadly already stripped of anything useful. Sitting down near the frozen food aisle, the three of them dug out their rations and ate, Maria looking up at the shelves and at the price tags of various flavors of ice cream, taunting her.
"Hmm...Rocky Road..." Maria said suddenly
"Huh?" Duncan replied, looking up from his loaf of bread.
"I could really go for some Rocky Road right now."
Duncan stared at Maria with a confused look on his face, before his gaze moved over to the shelves and he saw what Maria was talking about.
"Oooh, right. I always preferred sherbet myself."
"Oh yeah, that rainbow stuff, right?"
"Yeah."
The bout of conversation gave way to a long silence before Maria spoke up again.
"I wonder if the others at the rec center are okay."
"Others?" Duncan wracked his brain for a moment before he remembered that there was a bunch of people pouring out of the rec center before he came in and found Maria and Cass. "Oh yeah..." Remember it also reminded him of Trent and that timid girl, and he found himself wondering if the two of them were okay, too.
"I...other than Zach and Dustin, I don't know any of their names, so even if they came up on the announcements, I wouldn't even recognize them." Maria said, letting out a sigh.
The silence returned, and once the three of them finished their meals they decided to hit the sack, the three of them propped up against one of the glass doors, leaning against each other. Just before she drifted off to sleep, Maria found that she'd finally forgotten about her troubles for that moment, and as she nuzzled up against an already asleep Duncan and put an arm around Cass she wished that morning didn't have to come.
----------
"Hey."
Maria woke up to a girl leaning in, inches away from her face and staring at her intently. She didn't say anything else, though. Just stared, as if she were expecting her to reply.
"Uh...hey."
"Come on." The girl said, extending an arm to her. "I've got something I want to show you, and there isn't a lot of time."
Maria was understandably confused as she stared back at this girl, with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in a sky blue t-shirt with a picture of a crab on the front and blue jeans. There was something...off about her. Well, more than what was already apparent. After a moment's hesitation, she removed her arm from around Cass, careful not to disturb her and Duncan as she took the girl's hand and was helped to her feet.
"Hey, wait a minute..." She said, looking out towards the entrance. "It's still dark o-"
"Let's go." The girl cut her off and yanked on her arm as she walked out, pulling her along as the two of them walked out of the store and down the street, the moon out in full force and illuminating the street well enough to see clearly. Maria kept staring at the girl intently, trying to figure something out, and once she did, she came to a stop, feeling the yank on her arm as the girl was stopped as well, looking back at her with confusion and a look of annoyance on her face, and as she saw her face Maria knew for sure.
"This is a dream, isn't it?"
The girl's expression changed to surprise. "How did you know?"
"Your face...you're me, aren't you?" Maria answered, looking the girl up and down. "You look a lot like how I imagined I would now if I didn't start dressing like...well, this."
The girl nodded. "Yeah, that's right." And tried to keep walking, as if she were in a hurry.
"You know..." Maria said, keeping still and looking around at the scenery. "I don't think I've ever really been aware I was in a dream before." She said. "It...doesn't really seem like one I'd have though."
The other Maria looked back at Maria with an annoyed look on her face. "Alright, fine." With a snap of her fingers, Maria heard a battle cry in the distance. Turning around, she saw Robo-Bear 5000 and Nicolas Cage in The Wicker Man in a bear costume running down the street at each other, until they met in the middle and punched each other in the face at the same time. Then they exploded.
"There. You happy now?"
"Well, there's a lot more to them than that." Maria said as she watched the smoldering wreckage.
"Oh come on, just keep going already!" The other Maria huffed and yanked on Maria's arm until she was moving again, traveling just a bit farther until they turned the corner and saw...
"...Jimmy?" Maria was taken by surprise when she saw Jimmy Brennan right in the middle of the road, bound and gagged in a chair. The other Maria pulled her over until she was right in front of her, and Jimmy let out what was, knowing Jimmy, probably a series of profanities and general shit talk.
"Alright, let's get started." The other Maria said.
"W-wait, started with what? What is he doing here? What am I doing here?"
Suddenly, Maria felt something heavy in her hand, and as she looked she let out a gasp of surprise and dropped the gun like it was a grenade with the pin pulled. "W-what the hell!?"
The other Maria sighed. "Look, I went through all this effort to set this up, so will you hurry up and shoot him already?"
"W-wha...s-s-shoot him!??" Maria said, stepping away from the gun. "What the hell is wrong with you!? Why would I do that!?"
"Because he's a killer." The other Maria gave a shrug. "You saw him, didn't you? He beat the ever-loving shit out of Phil. He was gloating the whole time, so you know he wasn't panicking or anything. He was getting a huge kick out of it. Don't you think that kind of attitude should be punished? Why should someone like him get to win the game?"
"But..." The other Maria had a point. Jimmy Brennan was a cold-blooded killer. He didn't have the excuse of self-defense, or acting in a blind panic, or anything like that. He was hurling insults at Phil the whole time. He was loving it. Even though Phil had nearly killed her, seeing something like that made her so angry."
But...
"...but I'm a killer, too." She said. "And Phil was a huge jerkface, but the person I killed was completely innocent. She didn't do anything, but I ended up killing her anyway. I don't have any right to pass judgment like that."
The other Maria let out another sigh of annoyance. "Then how about this? If you don't kill him, who's to say he won't come back and kill your friends?"
Maria froze.
"He got his first taste of blood, and he obviously loves it. Who's to say he won't end up coming back and killing them? And it's Jimmy Brennan, so you know he'll be talking shit and gloating about it the whole time."
Maria looked back at the other Maria, and then back at the gun, suddenly finding herself drawn towards it as she got the mental image of Cass, Duncan and Max on the ground, dead, with Jimmy standing over their bodies, gloating about how they didn't stand a chance, because he's Jimmy Fucking Brennan.
"And he's not the only one. There are other players too, and they'll be gunning for them as well. Are you just gonna stand back and let them get cut down just because you killed someone by accident so you don't deserve to do the same? Even if it's to protect them?"
It...it made sense. Maria reached down and picked up the gun. It wasn't a flare gun this time; it was the real deal. Some kind of automatic. She looked it over in her hand, and then back at Jimmy, who hurled another onslaught of muffled insults, and even when she couldn't understand them they were still annoying as all hell and JESUS CHRIST JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP JIMMY BRENNAN!
Maria aimed the gun at Jimmy, her aim wavering as the smell of barbecued pork came back to mind, and she began to feel nauseous again. She remembered the anguish she felt at Francine's death, and how it almost consumed her. Could she really go through all that again?
Maria closed her eyes, her hands shaking, and...
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!
Maria woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of Danya speaking, and suddenly realized that she didn't give a shit who died yesterday, she REALLY didn't want to hear the announcements. She pulled away from Cass and a rather confused-looking Duncan and bolted out the door, ignoring Duncan's calls for her to come back. She walked briskly down the street, trying to think of something, anything to drown out Danya's voice. Finally she decided to just start blaring Number of the Beast in her head.
"Anyways, first to die was-"
I lived alone
my mind was blank
I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind
"Maxwell Lombardi termina-"
What did I see?
Could I believe?
That what I saw that night was real and not just fantasy
Maria continued like this for a while, before she suddenly tripped over the sidewalk, landing with a loud "Oof!" in front of a house where a certain boy was currently sitting.
"After a day of inactivity, Reiko Ishida re-"
"Shut up..." Maria growled. "Shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP I'M NOT GONNA PLAY YOUR STUPID GAME!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
-
Sister Grimm†
- Posts: 172
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 6:38 am
((Micheal Raynor continued from I Swear I Won't Shoot ))
This was all a little more awkward for him then he thought it would be. It didn't take long for him to realize why he spent all his time either by himself or with people he didn't have to empathize with. At least, maybe not outside regretting a wipe on a raid or losing a save file due to a corrupted memory card. You know, stuff that doesn't actually really matter in the long run. Despite the time and devotion he's given to video games and comic books, he realized that they weren't a way of life. Not unless he got a job in the video game design filed, but that was a train long gone.
His point being, he wasn't used to dealing with genuine misfortune. Even when it was happening all around him. Gloria managed to hold up okay after they got off the beach, and he liked to think that he even got her to open up a little. But she did have these little bouts. Of course, it felt, well, wrong, to diminish them like that. No, it didn't feel wrong, it was wrong. She had lost someone close to her, someone she cared about, she was allowed to be upset. His only problem, well not his only problem, but his main problem involving Gloria was that he didn't really know how to comfort her about it. Sure, he could say sorry for her loss and all that, but it just felt, sorta like a cop out.
All the same, Micheal did his best. "Really, don't worry about it. He was your friend, I don't mind." He offered a forced grin, nodding toward the area around them. "I mean, it isn't like we know what we're doing, right?" The gamer extended a hand, faltering when he realized that he didn't actually know where the gesture was going. At last, he settled on a comforting(?) hand on her shoulder. It was what he'd seen in movies, so why not try it here? This all had enough in common with works of fiction already, why not add some stolen sentimentality?
As her comment about churros, Micheal smiled on reflex, though the expression was confused. He briefly wondered if she was losing it before writing it off to grief. Lacking any real way to respond to that, he offered, "Churros are nice."
In the brief pause that followed, he looked at the buildings surrounding them. This wandering around blindly was for the birds, he decided. They needed a plan, or at least a destination. When Gloria started speaking again, he looked back to her. "I can be leader for a spell, if you want." He smiled. "That way I can look out for you, like you've been looking out for me." The boy stepped forward, grabbing her bag and slinging it over the opposite shoulder his own bag rested on. "Let's make it through these buildings. Once we reach the other side, we'll see what to do next. Okay?"
This was all a little more awkward for him then he thought it would be. It didn't take long for him to realize why he spent all his time either by himself or with people he didn't have to empathize with. At least, maybe not outside regretting a wipe on a raid or losing a save file due to a corrupted memory card. You know, stuff that doesn't actually really matter in the long run. Despite the time and devotion he's given to video games and comic books, he realized that they weren't a way of life. Not unless he got a job in the video game design filed, but that was a train long gone.
His point being, he wasn't used to dealing with genuine misfortune. Even when it was happening all around him. Gloria managed to hold up okay after they got off the beach, and he liked to think that he even got her to open up a little. But she did have these little bouts. Of course, it felt, well, wrong, to diminish them like that. No, it didn't feel wrong, it was wrong. She had lost someone close to her, someone she cared about, she was allowed to be upset. His only problem, well not his only problem, but his main problem involving Gloria was that he didn't really know how to comfort her about it. Sure, he could say sorry for her loss and all that, but it just felt, sorta like a cop out.
All the same, Micheal did his best. "Really, don't worry about it. He was your friend, I don't mind." He offered a forced grin, nodding toward the area around them. "I mean, it isn't like we know what we're doing, right?" The gamer extended a hand, faltering when he realized that he didn't actually know where the gesture was going. At last, he settled on a comforting(?) hand on her shoulder. It was what he'd seen in movies, so why not try it here? This all had enough in common with works of fiction already, why not add some stolen sentimentality?
As her comment about churros, Micheal smiled on reflex, though the expression was confused. He briefly wondered if she was losing it before writing it off to grief. Lacking any real way to respond to that, he offered, "Churros are nice."
In the brief pause that followed, he looked at the buildings surrounding them. This wandering around blindly was for the birds, he decided. They needed a plan, or at least a destination. When Gloria started speaking again, he looked back to her. "I can be leader for a spell, if you want." He smiled. "That way I can look out for you, like you've been looking out for me." The boy stepped forward, grabbing her bag and slinging it over the opposite shoulder his own bag rested on. "Let's make it through these buildings. Once we reach the other side, we'll see what to do next. Okay?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Sister Grimm.
She wasn't expecting a hand to touch her shoulder. Gloria tensed up at first, unused to a near-stranger touching her like that, but when it was clear Michael wasn't going to try anything sexual or try to punch her, she slowly started to relax. Started to. Gloria sniffled again, wiping her face as her companion picked up her duffel bag. "O--Okay...cl-class rotation?" she mumbled. Speaking in "game" might be a good idea with Michael. Might make them closer, better friends...less likely to run off and leave the other--
N-Nuh-uh! Gloria thought with a shake of her head as she rose to her feet. H-He's probably, n-no, he is as scared as m-me...No, he's less scared. But we won't run off. We're a team.
Hand shaking slightly, Gloria reached out and lightly grabbed the back of Michael's shirt. "Th--thank you...I--I c-can...t-take over a-aga-gain later....'kay?" she whispered again, sniffling once more. It was only fair, after all. She turned her attention to the buildings he was referring to, mind going in a seemingly-random direction. "I--I w-wonder if....i-if there's pl-plumbing..." she mumbled faintly. "W-We're...we're a-all gon--gonna smell la-later..." Oh, but even if there was plumbing, the water might be too cold. And there might not be soap. It'd be kind of pointless to shower with no soaps. Maybe they got lucky and the people behind the game had given them deodorants and perfumes in the duffel bags. Maybe.
"A-Are we go-going inside, or...o-or just...j-just beyond th-the h-h-houses?"
N-Nuh-uh! Gloria thought with a shake of her head as she rose to her feet. H-He's probably, n-no, he is as scared as m-me...No, he's less scared. But we won't run off. We're a team.
Hand shaking slightly, Gloria reached out and lightly grabbed the back of Michael's shirt. "Th--thank you...I--I c-can...t-take over a-aga-gain later....'kay?" she whispered again, sniffling once more. It was only fair, after all. She turned her attention to the buildings he was referring to, mind going in a seemingly-random direction. "I--I w-wonder if....i-if there's pl-plumbing..." she mumbled faintly. "W-We're...we're a-all gon--gonna smell la-later..." Oh, but even if there was plumbing, the water might be too cold. And there might not be soap. It'd be kind of pointless to shower with no soaps. Maybe they got lucky and the people behind the game had given them deodorants and perfumes in the duffel bags. Maybe.
"A-Are we go-going inside, or...o-or just...j-just beyond th-the h-h-houses?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Moth. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Someone fell in front of the house that George had chosen to raid. This was not surprising, as the island seemed to have some sort of mystical power that allowed the members to find one another in the oddest places. Even if George was the only other person on the island, the other person would still find him, probably up in a tree or some other bizarre place. What distinguished this person though is that she was yelling something at somebody. Probably not George, given that he heard the word 'game' somewhere in that silly rant of hers, so it was probably aimed at the island's gleeful administrator. As if yelling would make a difference when it came to that man.
With a grunt, George pulled himself to his feet, feeling a strain in his back as he rose. Picking up the chair, he reflected that it would be ridiculously uncomfortable carrying that thing across the entire island. Modifications would probably be necessary at the nearest opportunity, but for the moment, it would simply have to do. If Clumsy Rant Girl happened to be a killer, he didn't suppose that she would wait around for him to knock a leg off the chair or something of that sort.
"Keep it down, would y-" he growled at the girl, then realized that there was something familiar about her. It hit him suddenly. This girl was Maria, that crying person who he'd met at the Rec Center just a short distance away. Even with his current mood, he let a smile creep into the corners of his mouth. Maria and he had not left their last meeting on a positive note, and in all honesty, he would have rather not met her again. But what could he do? Here she was, without that other guy who was taking care of her, and apparently out of her mind. George supposed that he'd simply have to figure out what she was doing before sending her on her way.
"You again..." he muttered, setting the chair down on the grass in front of the house. "Where's that other guy, the one who was supposed to be taking care of you? What, did you get him killed or something?" Thinking about it, George considered that this wasn't the nicest thing to say, but he really didn't care all that much. He had murder on his mind already, so he didn't have to care about being nice. The instant Sebastian was gone, nobody would care how pleasant he was. He'd just be another killer to them, and therefore a bad guy, so why not play the part?
With a grunt, George pulled himself to his feet, feeling a strain in his back as he rose. Picking up the chair, he reflected that it would be ridiculously uncomfortable carrying that thing across the entire island. Modifications would probably be necessary at the nearest opportunity, but for the moment, it would simply have to do. If Clumsy Rant Girl happened to be a killer, he didn't suppose that she would wait around for him to knock a leg off the chair or something of that sort.
"Keep it down, would y-" he growled at the girl, then realized that there was something familiar about her. It hit him suddenly. This girl was Maria, that crying person who he'd met at the Rec Center just a short distance away. Even with his current mood, he let a smile creep into the corners of his mouth. Maria and he had not left their last meeting on a positive note, and in all honesty, he would have rather not met her again. But what could he do? Here she was, without that other guy who was taking care of her, and apparently out of her mind. George supposed that he'd simply have to figure out what she was doing before sending her on her way.
"You again..." he muttered, setting the chair down on the grass in front of the house. "Where's that other guy, the one who was supposed to be taking care of you? What, did you get him killed or something?" Thinking about it, George considered that this wasn't the nicest thing to say, but he really didn't care all that much. He had murder on his mind already, so he didn't have to care about being nice. The instant Sebastian was gone, nobody would care how pleasant he was. He'd just be another killer to them, and therefore a bad guy, so why not play the part?
((Cassidy Wakemore continued from Final Third Foul))
Maria and Duncan left for sanctuary, and Cassidy followed. As they marched, she stayed a few paces behind them, shifting her eyes left and right, like she expected to see something else. She kept her javelin wrapped tightly in her arms, afraid of losing or using it again. Whenever she stepped on a twig or anything that made the slightest bit of noise, her foot jerked back up and she stared fearfully at the ground before remembering that she was supposed to be following her friends, and took a few more hurried steps behind them.
It wasn't hard not to hear the sounds of errant twigs, wind rustling through the trees, or dirt shuffling underfoot when Maria was just as silent as she was. Duncan ended up starting all of their conversations, if they could be called that. All Cassie remembered him asking was where they wanted to go next, or where they were right then, or how they could get their bearings. Someone, she didn't remember whether it was Maria or herself, did her best to answer him, but there wasn't much they could do for him.
They came to a house in the hours following, and she almost started to weep when she saw them. For a brief moment it occurred to her that this was all there was anymore. No matter where any of them walked, they would just see the same things over and over again. Space was twisted; the island existed inside of its own little bubble of a universe, separate from everyone else. The feeling only lasted for a few seconds, before she realized that they were just fine. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Except for everything.
They went to the nearby grocery store, a veritable ghost town of victuals and foodstuffs. Maria and Duncan sat on the floor, temporarily distracting themselves with conversations about a world long gone, and Cassie tried her best to join in. Oh God, did she try. But it seemed that her voice had deserted her, and the best she could manage was the occasional whisper. "I always wanted to try green tea flavor," she mumbled, unsure if the others had heard them. As for the food, she couldn't touch it. The feeling of revulsion she got after she saw Jimmy Brennan committing murder still lingered, flaring up whenever her hand tentatively reached for a ration of bread. There was a hole there, a hole she couldn't touch with anything for fear of growing it.
"Are you going to eat?" Duncan asked her.
She looked up at him and did her best to smile, forcing the corners of her mouth apart and shaking her head. "Nah. Not hungry," she told him. "Gotta save this stuff up, anyway." The subject was dropped after that, so Cassie assumed that she didn't look too bad right now, just shaken up. No more emaciated and sickly than they looked at this point.
Soon enough they slept, leaning against the glass like they were beggars, trying to absorb the warmth inside a house from the outdoors on a dead winter night. It seemed like she would never get to sleep at this rate, as glass wasn't exactly the most comfortable surface to lay against. But while the island held a terror necessary for keeping her awake, it also necessitated some form of escape.
-----
"Huh?" she asked, looking down at her lunch. She made it herself, mostly going the simple route with some peanut butter and jelly, along with a bag of chips and a couple of oreos. The bread in the sandwich was starting to absorb the rest of it, and if she didn't eat it soon, it would be a soggy, unappetizing mess. "Nah, I guess I could make a trade. What've you got?"
"Oh, not much. Just a few health bars." He pulled them out of his backback, revealing that they'd been squished by the heavy books they shared space with. "Yeah, sorry about that. They're still pretty good, though. Take your pick." He held out two different varieties, lemon and chocolate.
She picked lemon, giving him a bag of strawberries in return. The two of them ate in silence for a few minutes, an awkward air dividing them like a sheet of rubber.
Finally, she sighed and rummaged around her backpack, pulling out a scalpel and stabbing it into the sheet, forcing it into the tough material and gouging into it until it slipped loose. A gout of blood, foul brackish crimson-black shit that sprayed over her face, drops flying up her nose and burning her eyes. She coughed and retched, feeling her stomach contents roil and churn. She pushed the scalpel back into the slippery cut in the wall, digging deeper into it and eventually hitting a hard surface that resisted her blade. A sickening scraping sound filled her ears, making her shudder and her arm spasm and the scalpel dig into the side of the wet rubber.
"W-winston," she said, before coughing and spitting blood out of her mouth. "I miss you."
"I miss you too," he said, clapping a hand on her naked shoulder. "I can't sleep, can't eat, can't sing." He sighed and reclined against the soft velvet, his head inches from her soft, silky thigh. "When are you coming back?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't!" she sobbed, burying her eyes in her palms. "They've got me surrounded! Every possible way out, they've thought of it already! I'm just staying here and I'm losing my fucking mind!"
The audience burst out into laughter, drowning out the sound of crunching bones and squelching flesh. The ginger boy on stage raised his bat and brought it back down again on a shapeless lump of flesh, which twitched and shivered in pain. "Who's the badass motherfucker who'll kill your ass if you give him any sass?" he shrieked.
"JIMMY!"
"That's right, bitches!" He looked contemptuously at the sack's remaining eyeball, surrounded by thick clumps of black bristling hair. His foot drew back, then forward, the toes of his shoe slamming into the cornea with a meaty thud. The audience cheered, chanted his name as the boot bashed the giant eye, bruising it and filling the sclera with blood, turning it red until it finally burst on the eighth kick, covering his boots with a thick, greenish fluid.
His nose twitched as he smelled it, his face contracting into a disgusted squinch. "You wanna get my shoes dirty, do you, cocksucker?" he snarled, stabbing right into the center of the mass of flesh with a claymore. The audience cheered as drops of blood splattered their faces and the rest of the theater.
The other boy wiped his eyes and patted her on the back. "Maybe you could try to follow his lead. He's got spunk. He's got initiative. He's going places."
She flinched and gave him a weird stare. "Him?" she asked. "He's an asshole! I don't want to be like him!"
"Well, you'll have to try at least once," he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Can't let everyone else hog the spotlight, ya know."
Her eyes drifted right, catching a glimpse of two familiar faces sitting under the far wall. They moaned and leaned into each other, lips locked in an airtight embrace. Their limbs tangled with each other, unwilling to slacken their grip on each other's bodies for even a second.
He followed her gaze and frowned. "Oh, right," he says. "Them. Well, I know how you feel, and believe me, if I could get all of you back here in one piece, I would." He reached out and turned the dial up, causing the air beyond the glass to shimmer and distort. "But I think you know the truth."
She put her hands to the glass as the face-suckers on the other side started to melt, their skin dripping like wax and revealing the muscles beyond. Sporadic fires erupted all over their bodies as he turned the dial farther and farther to the right. Throughout it all, they continued to kiss, even without lips. Their teeth clacked against each other as their tongues slid against each other, dripping saliva down the countours of their jaw. Then even that collapsed, leaving yellowish-white bones resting in a lumpy, burning flesh puddle.
"I can't," she told him. "It wouldn't be the same without them."
"You'll get used to it," he replied. "Drummers are a dime a dozen around these parts, and groupies like him are even more common. But bassists like you..." He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her chests until her breath forced its way out of her. "I can't replace."
She tried to pull away from him, but it only hurt her more. When she looked down at his arms, she saw a crude lattice of sewing thread weaving in and out of their skin, stitching them together. She gasped as she beheld their pierced skin, reddened and pus-ridden from infection. "Winston," she cried. "You're hurting me..."
-----
Her eyes snapped back open, looking back at the ceiling, at the broken fluorescent lights and the dusty ceiling tiles that probably harbored asbestos or some shit. She didn't have any time to react before Maria bolted from the building, tearing out of there like she was being dragged by a fish hook in her nose. Cassie didn't think to check on Duncan to see what he would do next, instead choosing to follow Maria outside. Maria walked down the street, stomping down with the stubbornness of a bull as the announcements blared, forcing themselves into their head like... something Cassie didn't want to think about, considering. Maria seemed to be doing a god job of tuning them out, but Cassie felt inclined to listen, waiting for a certain name. Sure enough, she heard it.
"Then, proving that even a loser can turn things around, Jimmy Brennan killed Phillip Ward with a little moxie and a big stick."
"Basically, this chick here next to me got into an argument with Phil Ward. I didn't hear what happened, but he tossed her to the ground and started beating the crap out of her."
Holy fuck. The sports guy Jimmy killed was the same one who went apeshit on Maria the day before? Cassie didn't know what to think about that. Did Maria know what to think? She was the one terrified at Jimmy's actions while Cassie found herself cheering for him. As she thought, Maria turned a corner, and it wasn't until Cassie heard Maria shout at the top of her lungs before she came back to her.
When she got there, a familiar face came up, asking where the hell Duncan was. "He's, he's back there," Cassie said, suddenly remembering that they were sleeping with him until the announcements. She looked back in that direction, hoping he would show up.
Maria and Duncan left for sanctuary, and Cassidy followed. As they marched, she stayed a few paces behind them, shifting her eyes left and right, like she expected to see something else. She kept her javelin wrapped tightly in her arms, afraid of losing or using it again. Whenever she stepped on a twig or anything that made the slightest bit of noise, her foot jerked back up and she stared fearfully at the ground before remembering that she was supposed to be following her friends, and took a few more hurried steps behind them.
It wasn't hard not to hear the sounds of errant twigs, wind rustling through the trees, or dirt shuffling underfoot when Maria was just as silent as she was. Duncan ended up starting all of their conversations, if they could be called that. All Cassie remembered him asking was where they wanted to go next, or where they were right then, or how they could get their bearings. Someone, she didn't remember whether it was Maria or herself, did her best to answer him, but there wasn't much they could do for him.
They came to a house in the hours following, and she almost started to weep when she saw them. For a brief moment it occurred to her that this was all there was anymore. No matter where any of them walked, they would just see the same things over and over again. Space was twisted; the island existed inside of its own little bubble of a universe, separate from everyone else. The feeling only lasted for a few seconds, before she realized that they were just fine. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Except for everything.
They went to the nearby grocery store, a veritable ghost town of victuals and foodstuffs. Maria and Duncan sat on the floor, temporarily distracting themselves with conversations about a world long gone, and Cassie tried her best to join in. Oh God, did she try. But it seemed that her voice had deserted her, and the best she could manage was the occasional whisper. "I always wanted to try green tea flavor," she mumbled, unsure if the others had heard them. As for the food, she couldn't touch it. The feeling of revulsion she got after she saw Jimmy Brennan committing murder still lingered, flaring up whenever her hand tentatively reached for a ration of bread. There was a hole there, a hole she couldn't touch with anything for fear of growing it.
"Are you going to eat?" Duncan asked her.
She looked up at him and did her best to smile, forcing the corners of her mouth apart and shaking her head. "Nah. Not hungry," she told him. "Gotta save this stuff up, anyway." The subject was dropped after that, so Cassie assumed that she didn't look too bad right now, just shaken up. No more emaciated and sickly than they looked at this point.
Soon enough they slept, leaning against the glass like they were beggars, trying to absorb the warmth inside a house from the outdoors on a dead winter night. It seemed like she would never get to sleep at this rate, as glass wasn't exactly the most comfortable surface to lay against. But while the island held a terror necessary for keeping her awake, it also necessitated some form of escape.
-----
"Huh?" she asked, looking down at her lunch. She made it herself, mostly going the simple route with some peanut butter and jelly, along with a bag of chips and a couple of oreos. The bread in the sandwich was starting to absorb the rest of it, and if she didn't eat it soon, it would be a soggy, unappetizing mess. "Nah, I guess I could make a trade. What've you got?"
"Oh, not much. Just a few health bars." He pulled them out of his backback, revealing that they'd been squished by the heavy books they shared space with. "Yeah, sorry about that. They're still pretty good, though. Take your pick." He held out two different varieties, lemon and chocolate.
She picked lemon, giving him a bag of strawberries in return. The two of them ate in silence for a few minutes, an awkward air dividing them like a sheet of rubber.
Finally, she sighed and rummaged around her backpack, pulling out a scalpel and stabbing it into the sheet, forcing it into the tough material and gouging into it until it slipped loose. A gout of blood, foul brackish crimson-black shit that sprayed over her face, drops flying up her nose and burning her eyes. She coughed and retched, feeling her stomach contents roil and churn. She pushed the scalpel back into the slippery cut in the wall, digging deeper into it and eventually hitting a hard surface that resisted her blade. A sickening scraping sound filled her ears, making her shudder and her arm spasm and the scalpel dig into the side of the wet rubber.
"W-winston," she said, before coughing and spitting blood out of her mouth. "I miss you."
"I miss you too," he said, clapping a hand on her naked shoulder. "I can't sleep, can't eat, can't sing." He sighed and reclined against the soft velvet, his head inches from her soft, silky thigh. "When are you coming back?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't!" she sobbed, burying her eyes in her palms. "They've got me surrounded! Every possible way out, they've thought of it already! I'm just staying here and I'm losing my fucking mind!"
The audience burst out into laughter, drowning out the sound of crunching bones and squelching flesh. The ginger boy on stage raised his bat and brought it back down again on a shapeless lump of flesh, which twitched and shivered in pain. "Who's the badass motherfucker who'll kill your ass if you give him any sass?" he shrieked.
"JIMMY!"
"That's right, bitches!" He looked contemptuously at the sack's remaining eyeball, surrounded by thick clumps of black bristling hair. His foot drew back, then forward, the toes of his shoe slamming into the cornea with a meaty thud. The audience cheered, chanted his name as the boot bashed the giant eye, bruising it and filling the sclera with blood, turning it red until it finally burst on the eighth kick, covering his boots with a thick, greenish fluid.
His nose twitched as he smelled it, his face contracting into a disgusted squinch. "You wanna get my shoes dirty, do you, cocksucker?" he snarled, stabbing right into the center of the mass of flesh with a claymore. The audience cheered as drops of blood splattered their faces and the rest of the theater.
The other boy wiped his eyes and patted her on the back. "Maybe you could try to follow his lead. He's got spunk. He's got initiative. He's going places."
She flinched and gave him a weird stare. "Him?" she asked. "He's an asshole! I don't want to be like him!"
"Well, you'll have to try at least once," he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Can't let everyone else hog the spotlight, ya know."
Her eyes drifted right, catching a glimpse of two familiar faces sitting under the far wall. They moaned and leaned into each other, lips locked in an airtight embrace. Their limbs tangled with each other, unwilling to slacken their grip on each other's bodies for even a second.
He followed her gaze and frowned. "Oh, right," he says. "Them. Well, I know how you feel, and believe me, if I could get all of you back here in one piece, I would." He reached out and turned the dial up, causing the air beyond the glass to shimmer and distort. "But I think you know the truth."
She put her hands to the glass as the face-suckers on the other side started to melt, their skin dripping like wax and revealing the muscles beyond. Sporadic fires erupted all over their bodies as he turned the dial farther and farther to the right. Throughout it all, they continued to kiss, even without lips. Their teeth clacked against each other as their tongues slid against each other, dripping saliva down the countours of their jaw. Then even that collapsed, leaving yellowish-white bones resting in a lumpy, burning flesh puddle.
"I can't," she told him. "It wouldn't be the same without them."
"You'll get used to it," he replied. "Drummers are a dime a dozen around these parts, and groupies like him are even more common. But bassists like you..." He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her chests until her breath forced its way out of her. "I can't replace."
She tried to pull away from him, but it only hurt her more. When she looked down at his arms, she saw a crude lattice of sewing thread weaving in and out of their skin, stitching them together. She gasped as she beheld their pierced skin, reddened and pus-ridden from infection. "Winston," she cried. "You're hurting me..."
-----
Her eyes snapped back open, looking back at the ceiling, at the broken fluorescent lights and the dusty ceiling tiles that probably harbored asbestos or some shit. She didn't have any time to react before Maria bolted from the building, tearing out of there like she was being dragged by a fish hook in her nose. Cassie didn't think to check on Duncan to see what he would do next, instead choosing to follow Maria outside. Maria walked down the street, stomping down with the stubbornness of a bull as the announcements blared, forcing themselves into their head like... something Cassie didn't want to think about, considering. Maria seemed to be doing a god job of tuning them out, but Cassie felt inclined to listen, waiting for a certain name. Sure enough, she heard it.
"Then, proving that even a loser can turn things around, Jimmy Brennan killed Phillip Ward with a little moxie and a big stick."
"Basically, this chick here next to me got into an argument with Phil Ward. I didn't hear what happened, but he tossed her to the ground and started beating the crap out of her."
Holy fuck. The sports guy Jimmy killed was the same one who went apeshit on Maria the day before? Cassie didn't know what to think about that. Did Maria know what to think? She was the one terrified at Jimmy's actions while Cassie found herself cheering for him. As she thought, Maria turned a corner, and it wasn't until Cassie heard Maria shout at the top of her lungs before she came back to her.
When she got there, a familiar face came up, asking where the hell Duncan was. "He's, he's back there," Cassie said, suddenly remembering that they were sleeping with him until the announcements. She looked back in that direction, hoping he would show up.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solitair. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
-
Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
Maria looked up from her internal conflict to see somebody standing in the doorway with a very mean expression on his face. Come to think of it, hadn't she seen him somewhere before?
"You again..." She said. "...uh, also."
As he brought up where Duncan was, the realization came to her that she just stormed out of the grocery store and left Cass and Duncan behind. Panic quickly started to overcome her as she turned around to where she came...to find Cass quickly approaching, letting out a sigh of relief as she said that Duncan wasn't too far behind.
"Oh!" She exclaimed. "I remember! You were at the rec center before." She said, looking towards the boy. "Did you find who you were looking for? This place has gotten pretty crazy. It's like you can't even turn around anymore without seeing somebody go crazy and beat somebody else in the face with a stick." She said, cringing a bit as she remembered what happened to Phil.
------------
Duncan was indeed not far behind, having woken up with the announcements, just in time to catch Maria hurrying out the door.
"Wha-hey! Maria!" Duncan said, following after her and Cass, though on the way, he started thinking about the dream he had. Not anything fanciful or weird; instead his brain had decided to play back what had happened at the docks, before they ran into that killing. His pace slowed a bit as she remembered her words.
"Thanks, Duncan...If it wasn't for you and Cass, I would've lost my mind by now."
Duncan couldn't help but feel guilty. Even if just being there was helping, it still wasn't enough. Maria was still suffering, and it was clear it was just getting worse. But hell, what was he supposed to do? Get everyone on the island to stop killing each other? Yeah right. Duncan just felt more and more helpless the more he thought about it. He had come to a decision that he'd do what he could to get Maria off the island, as well as her friends if he could somehow manage it, but even then, what the hell could he do? He got completely screwed on the weapon front, and had to make due with a sharp stick, but even Cass had him outclassed on the sharp stick department. He couldn't come up with a decent escape plan to (literally) save his life. He had been looking forward to finding Maria again, but now that he did he was feeling like more and more of a load.
As Maria came into sight, he stood back, letting out a sigh as it appeared that she was okay. Even still, he had to try. Even if he WAS a useless load, he still had to put forth the effort. If just being there was enough, then goddammit he'd be there. That would be his legacy on this island.
"Duncan...I...I lo-"
Duncan's face flushed a bit. He already knew what she was trying to say. He remembered back to what had happened when Zach broke up with her. Back then, he rejected her because she was on the rebound, and he was sure that if the two of them tried anything they'd just wind up regretting it later. Even now, he was still worried that this was something like that. That she was just scared from everything that had happened. But there was no denying that he didn't feel the same way.
Dammit, why the hell did all this have to be so complicated?
"Hey, Maria!" Duncan called out as he started to approach her. "Are you alr
"You again..." She said. "...uh, also."
As he brought up where Duncan was, the realization came to her that she just stormed out of the grocery store and left Cass and Duncan behind. Panic quickly started to overcome her as she turned around to where she came...to find Cass quickly approaching, letting out a sigh of relief as she said that Duncan wasn't too far behind.
"Oh!" She exclaimed. "I remember! You were at the rec center before." She said, looking towards the boy. "Did you find who you were looking for? This place has gotten pretty crazy. It's like you can't even turn around anymore without seeing somebody go crazy and beat somebody else in the face with a stick." She said, cringing a bit as she remembered what happened to Phil.
------------
Duncan was indeed not far behind, having woken up with the announcements, just in time to catch Maria hurrying out the door.
"Wha-hey! Maria!" Duncan said, following after her and Cass, though on the way, he started thinking about the dream he had. Not anything fanciful or weird; instead his brain had decided to play back what had happened at the docks, before they ran into that killing. His pace slowed a bit as she remembered her words.
"Thanks, Duncan...If it wasn't for you and Cass, I would've lost my mind by now."
Duncan couldn't help but feel guilty. Even if just being there was helping, it still wasn't enough. Maria was still suffering, and it was clear it was just getting worse. But hell, what was he supposed to do? Get everyone on the island to stop killing each other? Yeah right. Duncan just felt more and more helpless the more he thought about it. He had come to a decision that he'd do what he could to get Maria off the island, as well as her friends if he could somehow manage it, but even then, what the hell could he do? He got completely screwed on the weapon front, and had to make due with a sharp stick, but even Cass had him outclassed on the sharp stick department. He couldn't come up with a decent escape plan to (literally) save his life. He had been looking forward to finding Maria again, but now that he did he was feeling like more and more of a load.
As Maria came into sight, he stood back, letting out a sigh as it appeared that she was okay. Even still, he had to try. Even if he WAS a useless load, he still had to put forth the effort. If just being there was enough, then goddammit he'd be there. That would be his legacy on this island.
"Duncan...I...I lo-"
Duncan's face flushed a bit. He already knew what she was trying to say. He remembered back to what had happened when Zach broke up with her. Back then, he rejected her because she was on the rebound, and he was sure that if the two of them tried anything they'd just wind up regretting it later. Even now, he was still worried that this was something like that. That she was just scared from everything that had happened. But there was no denying that he didn't feel the same way.
Dammit, why the hell did all this have to be so complicated?
"Hey, Maria!" Duncan called out as he started to approach her. "Are you alr
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
((Maxwell Lombardi continued from Breaking Down the Wall))
Finding the town he'd spotted earlier proved to be an easier task than Maxwell first suspected. After all, he only had to retrace his own steps in order to find it again, and since he'd recently passed through the area he didn't have any problem with moving at a somewhat faster pace than usual.
As a result, whilst it had taken him an hour or so to reach the warehouse from the outskirts of the town, it only took him approximately forty minutes to find it again.
Ah, there it is... Now what?
A part of him wanted to turn back and head in the opposite direction, try to find a nice tree or something to sleep under instead. After all, the town was bound to be full of the competition all waiting for the opportunity to take a shot at him, what with his impressive kill count and everything. Not to mention the fact that there were probably dozens of people out there who would have personally known some of the people he'd killed, and would relish at the opportunity of avenging their fallen comrades.
Then again, having a reputation as an established killer might also serve to protect him. Not many people would want to mess with a man with six (No, seven... Wait, make that eight now.) kills to their name would they? Chances are, some of the more weak minded members of the competition would rather run and hide than try to take him on. Besides, so what if he had something of a huge target on his head? It wasn't exactly as if he couldn't defend himself, as the young Brit had proven several times in the past already... He would just have to not be careless, thats all.
Well Maxwell, are you ready to enter a potential bloodbath with nothing but a nearly depleted submachinegun in one hand and a trusty sidearm in the other?
Damn right i'm ready...
Once he'd finally mustered up the courage, Maxwell ran silently towards the town, hoisting himself over a garden fence and flattening himself against the wall of a bungalow. The young Brit could have entered through the front entrance of the town, true, but at the same time he didn't want to draw attention to himself TOO soon. Besides, there were bound to be fellow players waiting in ambush by all the obvious entrances and exits. Best to head in through more unorthodox means rather then making himself a bigger target then he already was.
Nevertheless, despite his precautions, Maxwell couldn't help but feel somewhat uneasy. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. In some ways, fear was the only thing keeping him awake now. Anywhere else on the island Maxwell would be drifting off to sleep at that moment... However, seeing as doing so here would mean leaving himself unguarded in one of the busiest spots on the island, the young Brit couldn't help but stay alert as he sneaked along the alleyways.
Alright, first things first, I've got to find myself a place to get some proper rest. A bungalow is no good, too open. I need somewhere with an upper level where I can block the stairs and barricade myself in nice and safe... Hmm, I think that house over there a couple of blocks down will do quite nicely.
With his TEC-9 by his side, ready to fire upon any unwanted company, Maxwell snuck past two more bungalows before finding himself in an alleyway between one of the bungalows and the two-story house he had spotted. Whilst it was by no means as impressive as the mansion he'd temporarily resided within a day ago, it was certainly enough to satisfy Maxwell's needs for the night.
Perfect! Now all I have to do is find a way in and...
...............
....Wait, is that what I think it is?
The young Brit brought his gun up and leaned his back against the wall, staring down the alleyway at the figure standing in the middle of the street. A young man wearing a blue denim jacket and jeans. Just standing there staring at... Something, Maxwell couldn't really tell from where he was standing.
Not that it really mattered... All Maxwell could think about was the fact that this guy was apparently all alone...
And unarmed...
And his back was turned...
Not to mention the fact that he was so close, and yet he didn't seem to be aware of Maxwell's presence...
The ambitious young killer couldn't help but smile as he lifted his gun... After all, how could he possibly resist such an easy target?
His thoughts on getting some sleep temporarily forgotten, the young Brit slowly sneaked down the alleyway so that he could get a better shot, making sure to keep to the shadows as best as he could. He didn't want to waste the element of surprise, did he? It wasn't often that opportunities like this were handed to Maxwell on a silver platter, so alerting this idiot of his presence was not an option...
Alright, I think that's close enough. Now all I have to do is lift, aim and......
"Hey, Maria! Are you alr-" RATATATATATA!
Duncan's call was quickly drowned out by the sound of gunfire as Maxwell emptied the remainder of his TEC-9's ammo into the unsuspecting boy's back with a cruel grin on his face.
...Bingo!
Finding the town he'd spotted earlier proved to be an easier task than Maxwell first suspected. After all, he only had to retrace his own steps in order to find it again, and since he'd recently passed through the area he didn't have any problem with moving at a somewhat faster pace than usual.
As a result, whilst it had taken him an hour or so to reach the warehouse from the outskirts of the town, it only took him approximately forty minutes to find it again.
Ah, there it is... Now what?
A part of him wanted to turn back and head in the opposite direction, try to find a nice tree or something to sleep under instead. After all, the town was bound to be full of the competition all waiting for the opportunity to take a shot at him, what with his impressive kill count and everything. Not to mention the fact that there were probably dozens of people out there who would have personally known some of the people he'd killed, and would relish at the opportunity of avenging their fallen comrades.
Then again, having a reputation as an established killer might also serve to protect him. Not many people would want to mess with a man with six (No, seven... Wait, make that eight now.) kills to their name would they? Chances are, some of the more weak minded members of the competition would rather run and hide than try to take him on. Besides, so what if he had something of a huge target on his head? It wasn't exactly as if he couldn't defend himself, as the young Brit had proven several times in the past already... He would just have to not be careless, thats all.
Well Maxwell, are you ready to enter a potential bloodbath with nothing but a nearly depleted submachinegun in one hand and a trusty sidearm in the other?
Damn right i'm ready...
Once he'd finally mustered up the courage, Maxwell ran silently towards the town, hoisting himself over a garden fence and flattening himself against the wall of a bungalow. The young Brit could have entered through the front entrance of the town, true, but at the same time he didn't want to draw attention to himself TOO soon. Besides, there were bound to be fellow players waiting in ambush by all the obvious entrances and exits. Best to head in through more unorthodox means rather then making himself a bigger target then he already was.
Nevertheless, despite his precautions, Maxwell couldn't help but feel somewhat uneasy. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. In some ways, fear was the only thing keeping him awake now. Anywhere else on the island Maxwell would be drifting off to sleep at that moment... However, seeing as doing so here would mean leaving himself unguarded in one of the busiest spots on the island, the young Brit couldn't help but stay alert as he sneaked along the alleyways.
Alright, first things first, I've got to find myself a place to get some proper rest. A bungalow is no good, too open. I need somewhere with an upper level where I can block the stairs and barricade myself in nice and safe... Hmm, I think that house over there a couple of blocks down will do quite nicely.
With his TEC-9 by his side, ready to fire upon any unwanted company, Maxwell snuck past two more bungalows before finding himself in an alleyway between one of the bungalows and the two-story house he had spotted. Whilst it was by no means as impressive as the mansion he'd temporarily resided within a day ago, it was certainly enough to satisfy Maxwell's needs for the night.
Perfect! Now all I have to do is find a way in and...
...............
....Wait, is that what I think it is?
The young Brit brought his gun up and leaned his back against the wall, staring down the alleyway at the figure standing in the middle of the street. A young man wearing a blue denim jacket and jeans. Just standing there staring at... Something, Maxwell couldn't really tell from where he was standing.
Not that it really mattered... All Maxwell could think about was the fact that this guy was apparently all alone...
And unarmed...
And his back was turned...
Not to mention the fact that he was so close, and yet he didn't seem to be aware of Maxwell's presence...
The ambitious young killer couldn't help but smile as he lifted his gun... After all, how could he possibly resist such an easy target?
His thoughts on getting some sleep temporarily forgotten, the young Brit slowly sneaked down the alleyway so that he could get a better shot, making sure to keep to the shadows as best as he could. He didn't want to waste the element of surprise, did he? It wasn't often that opportunities like this were handed to Maxwell on a silver platter, so alerting this idiot of his presence was not an option...
Alright, I think that's close enough. Now all I have to do is lift, aim and......
"Hey, Maria! Are you alr-" RATATATATATA!
Duncan's call was quickly drowned out by the sound of gunfire as Maxwell emptied the remainder of his TEC-9's ammo into the unsuspecting boy's back with a cruel grin on his face.
...Bingo!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fiori. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
-
Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
{GMing approved}
The next few seconds got rather confusing for Maria. She spotted Duncan, who started asking if she was alr, before he was suddenly interrupted by several load popping sounds, a couple somethings skipping off the ground beside her as Duncan stumbled forward, landing on top of her and knocking them both to the ground. She looked rather confused, the reality of what was going on taking time to click in her mind. Looking over Duncan's shoulder, she noticed a boy standing nearby, a gun in hand and an evil grin on his face. Wait...isn't that that British guy? The one who keeps showing up in the announcements?
The boy aimed his gun one more time at the two of them, pulling the trigger, only for a click to come from the gun. Maria felt as Duncan shifted his weight, as if trying to shield her, and she watched as the boy looked up, noticing the other two people there, and quickly ran for it, making tracks away from the group.
Well...that was close. Maria tried to get up, giving Duncan a nudge to signal him to get off, when...
Huh? She suddenly noticed that it was unusually warm between the two of them. She tried to push Duncan up enough to look down and...red. That...that's a lot of red. Maria reached around, brushing her hands against Duncan's back, and Duncan let out a sharp, ragged gasp as she did. Her hands came up red, too.
"D...Duncan?"
It sounded like Duncan was trying to say something, but she couldn't really make it out. Suddenly, he coughed loudly, and Maria's cheek was splashed with more red. She felt as Duncan's breathing got slower...
And slower...
And slower...
And then...
Then...
...
Murderer.
You were supposed to protect him.
He just walked up and shot him for no reason
If you hadn't freaked out, he'd still be alive
Duncan, I...I lo...
You couldn't protect him. You can't protect anyone.
Monster.
Worthless.
You should just kill him.
You should just die.
KILL HIM JUST DIE HE DESERVES NOTHING LESS HE'S DEAD AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT the smell of barbecued pork NO WONDER ZACH DUMPED YOU if it wasn't for you and Cass I would've lost my mind by now KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM NO WONDER YOUR MOTHER CARES MORE ABOUT HER JOB THAN YOU KILL HIM WORTHLESS HE'S A MONSTER AND HE DESERVES TO DIE YOU ARE A WORTHLESS HUMAN BEING the only thing she was good for was digging this grave Maria Graham showed some real flair in taking out Francine Moreau KILL THE BASTARD JUST DIE KILL HIM AND JIMMY BRENNAN AND EVERYBODY ELSE WHO DARES TO FUCK WITH YOU NOBODY WILL MISS YOUhelpKILL HIM DIE KILL HIM DIE JUST FUCKING KILL HIM EVERYONE WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOUhelp meKILL HIM KILL HIM AND THEN DANCE ON HIS FUCKING CORPSE JUST DIE AND SAVE SOMEBODY ELSE THE TROUBLE OF KILLING YOUpleaseKILL DIE KILL DIE KILL DIE KILL DIE
KILL
DIE
help me...
"Maria?"
Maria blinked in surprise as she heard Duncan speak, looking over at him. "D...Duncan?"
"It's okay, I'm fine."
"You...you mean you aren't..."
"No, I'm alright."
Maria let out a sigh of relief. "Dammit, don't scare me like that!" She scolded in a noticeably upset tone, feeling a great weight lift from her shoulders. Of course, there was still the great weight on top of her. "So, uh, could you get off? You're kind of heavy."
"Uh...sorry. I'm feeling kind of tired all of a sudden."
"Oh." It made sense, strangely enough. With some exertion, she slid out from underneath Duncan. Looking down at him. "Should I go get my first aid kid, or..."
"No, it's alright. I just need some rest."
"Oh, alright." She said. "Man, that was pretty scary, wasn't it? That guy just came out of nowhere and started shooting. What an asshole. Good thing no one was hurt, right?"
"Yeah..." Duncan said. "Listen, I need you to do something for me."
"Hmm? What is it?"
"It's probably gonna be a while before I can move around again, but we still have to look for people getting off the island, right?"
"Uh...that's right." Maria said, wonder where he was going with this.
"So, I want you to leave me here, okay? You go look for a group, and then when you find one, you can come back for me, okay?"
"W-what!? I can't do that! What if somebody finds you?"
"Don't worry. I'll be fine. Just help me into one of those houses, okay?"
"Uh...o-okay. If you say so." Maria said, still not sure about Duncan's idea. Still, she felt like she had to oblige him. Reaching down, she grunted with exertion as she pulled Duncan up, helping him towards the nearby house she saw George coming out of, not really paying attention to if he was still standing there or not. At the moment, all she was really paying attention to was Duncan.
"Geez, Duncan, quit dragging your feet..." She said, straining to get him into the house, spotting the bedroom right away and heading straight there.
"This should be a good spot." She said, laying Duncan down onto the bed. "This good for you?"
"Yeah, this'll work."
"Lucky bastard. You get to rest in a comfy bed while the rest of us have to go run around the island some more." Maria laughed a bit, and then the room was filled with an awkward silence for a moment.
"...Duncan?"
"Hmm?"
"There's...there's something I have to tell you." She says, carefully sitting down at the edge of the bed.
"What is it?"
"Remember back at the docks, before all that crazy murder stuff happened? I...I was saying something before I got cut off. I..." Maria hesitated for a second. "...I love you, Duncan."
"Huh?"
"What? Don't 'huh' me! I just said I love you, and that's all you have to say?" Maria sighed with annoyance. "I...what happened after Zach dumped me. I thought it was just because I was rattled. But...I thought about it a lot after that, and...that's how I really feel. With Zach...well, I guess I kind of got sidetracked. I can't really remember why we hooked up in the first place, come to think of it. But you..." Maria blushed a little bit. "Remember when we were kids, and I tore the skin off my elbow on that crappy tire swing? God, I was just bawling and making so much noise. I thought it was the most painful thing in the world. But you were there the whole time to make sure I was okay. Hell, your parents had to drag you away even after I was all patched up. I mean, I know I've always acted all weird and hyper and stuff, but you were always there to try and rein me in. You were always there. Even when I moved away, you were still always there, as well as you could be. I...I can't imagine my life without you." She smiled a bit, looking down at Duncan. It felt good finally getting it all out after all this time. She felt so relieved.
"...Duncan. Do you mind if I...?" Maria fidgeted a bit on the bed, and then finally decided to go for it. Leaning in, she closed her eyes and planted a soft kiss on Duncan. It held for a moment, before she finally pulled back. "Uh...s-sorry." She said, before noticing something strange, reaching up to touch her face. Was she...crying? She finally had the chance to tell Duncan her true feelings about him. What did she have to cry about? Huh...that's so weird.
So why couldn't she stop?
"Uh, well..." Maria got up off the bed. "I-I guess I b-better get going then." She said, suddenly finding her voice shaking. "D-don't worry. When I find out how to get out of here, I'll come back for you, a-and then we can all get off this island together." She started towards the door, now finding her hands shaking as she reached for the doorknob. For some reason, she found that she really, REALLY didn't want to leave the room. She wanted so badly to just stay behind with Duncan. But she couldn't. She had to find a way off the island, and she couldn't do something like that here.
"S...s-see ya." Maria said as she stepped through the door, closing the door behind her.
"Bye." She heard just before the door closed.
B76: DUNCAN MCMAHON - JUST RESTING
The next few seconds got rather confusing for Maria. She spotted Duncan, who started asking if she was alr, before he was suddenly interrupted by several load popping sounds, a couple somethings skipping off the ground beside her as Duncan stumbled forward, landing on top of her and knocking them both to the ground. She looked rather confused, the reality of what was going on taking time to click in her mind. Looking over Duncan's shoulder, she noticed a boy standing nearby, a gun in hand and an evil grin on his face. Wait...isn't that that British guy? The one who keeps showing up in the announcements?
The boy aimed his gun one more time at the two of them, pulling the trigger, only for a click to come from the gun. Maria felt as Duncan shifted his weight, as if trying to shield her, and she watched as the boy looked up, noticing the other two people there, and quickly ran for it, making tracks away from the group.
Well...that was close. Maria tried to get up, giving Duncan a nudge to signal him to get off, when...
Huh? She suddenly noticed that it was unusually warm between the two of them. She tried to push Duncan up enough to look down and...red. That...that's a lot of red. Maria reached around, brushing her hands against Duncan's back, and Duncan let out a sharp, ragged gasp as she did. Her hands came up red, too.
"D...Duncan?"
It sounded like Duncan was trying to say something, but she couldn't really make it out. Suddenly, he coughed loudly, and Maria's cheek was splashed with more red. She felt as Duncan's breathing got slower...
And slower...
And slower...
And then...
Then...
...
Murderer.
You were supposed to protect him.
He just walked up and shot him for no reason
If you hadn't freaked out, he'd still be alive
Duncan, I...I lo...
You couldn't protect him. You can't protect anyone.
Monster.
Worthless.
You should just kill him.
You should just die.
KILL HIM JUST DIE HE DESERVES NOTHING LESS HE'S DEAD AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT the smell of barbecued pork NO WONDER ZACH DUMPED YOU if it wasn't for you and Cass I would've lost my mind by now KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM NO WONDER YOUR MOTHER CARES MORE ABOUT HER JOB THAN YOU KILL HIM WORTHLESS HE'S A MONSTER AND HE DESERVES TO DIE YOU ARE A WORTHLESS HUMAN BEING the only thing she was good for was digging this grave Maria Graham showed some real flair in taking out Francine Moreau KILL THE BASTARD JUST DIE KILL HIM AND JIMMY BRENNAN AND EVERYBODY ELSE WHO DARES TO FUCK WITH YOU NOBODY WILL MISS YOUhelpKILL HIM DIE KILL HIM DIE JUST FUCKING KILL HIM EVERYONE WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOUhelp meKILL HIM KILL HIM AND THEN DANCE ON HIS FUCKING CORPSE JUST DIE AND SAVE SOMEBODY ELSE THE TROUBLE OF KILLING YOUpleaseKILL DIE KILL DIE KILL DIE KILL DIE
KILL
DIE
help me...
"Maria?"
Maria blinked in surprise as she heard Duncan speak, looking over at him. "D...Duncan?"
"It's okay, I'm fine."
"You...you mean you aren't..."
"No, I'm alright."
Maria let out a sigh of relief. "Dammit, don't scare me like that!" She scolded in a noticeably upset tone, feeling a great weight lift from her shoulders. Of course, there was still the great weight on top of her. "So, uh, could you get off? You're kind of heavy."
"Uh...sorry. I'm feeling kind of tired all of a sudden."
"Oh." It made sense, strangely enough. With some exertion, she slid out from underneath Duncan. Looking down at him. "Should I go get my first aid kid, or..."
"No, it's alright. I just need some rest."
"Oh, alright." She said. "Man, that was pretty scary, wasn't it? That guy just came out of nowhere and started shooting. What an asshole. Good thing no one was hurt, right?"
"Yeah..." Duncan said. "Listen, I need you to do something for me."
"Hmm? What is it?"
"It's probably gonna be a while before I can move around again, but we still have to look for people getting off the island, right?"
"Uh...that's right." Maria said, wonder where he was going with this.
"So, I want you to leave me here, okay? You go look for a group, and then when you find one, you can come back for me, okay?"
"W-what!? I can't do that! What if somebody finds you?"
"Don't worry. I'll be fine. Just help me into one of those houses, okay?"
"Uh...o-okay. If you say so." Maria said, still not sure about Duncan's idea. Still, she felt like she had to oblige him. Reaching down, she grunted with exertion as she pulled Duncan up, helping him towards the nearby house she saw George coming out of, not really paying attention to if he was still standing there or not. At the moment, all she was really paying attention to was Duncan.
"Geez, Duncan, quit dragging your feet..." She said, straining to get him into the house, spotting the bedroom right away and heading straight there.
"This should be a good spot." She said, laying Duncan down onto the bed. "This good for you?"
"Yeah, this'll work."
"Lucky bastard. You get to rest in a comfy bed while the rest of us have to go run around the island some more." Maria laughed a bit, and then the room was filled with an awkward silence for a moment.
"...Duncan?"
"Hmm?"
"There's...there's something I have to tell you." She says, carefully sitting down at the edge of the bed.
"What is it?"
"Remember back at the docks, before all that crazy murder stuff happened? I...I was saying something before I got cut off. I..." Maria hesitated for a second. "...I love you, Duncan."
"Huh?"
"What? Don't 'huh' me! I just said I love you, and that's all you have to say?" Maria sighed with annoyance. "I...what happened after Zach dumped me. I thought it was just because I was rattled. But...I thought about it a lot after that, and...that's how I really feel. With Zach...well, I guess I kind of got sidetracked. I can't really remember why we hooked up in the first place, come to think of it. But you..." Maria blushed a little bit. "Remember when we were kids, and I tore the skin off my elbow on that crappy tire swing? God, I was just bawling and making so much noise. I thought it was the most painful thing in the world. But you were there the whole time to make sure I was okay. Hell, your parents had to drag you away even after I was all patched up. I mean, I know I've always acted all weird and hyper and stuff, but you were always there to try and rein me in. You were always there. Even when I moved away, you were still always there, as well as you could be. I...I can't imagine my life without you." She smiled a bit, looking down at Duncan. It felt good finally getting it all out after all this time. She felt so relieved.
"...Duncan. Do you mind if I...?" Maria fidgeted a bit on the bed, and then finally decided to go for it. Leaning in, she closed her eyes and planted a soft kiss on Duncan. It held for a moment, before she finally pulled back. "Uh...s-sorry." She said, before noticing something strange, reaching up to touch her face. Was she...crying? She finally had the chance to tell Duncan her true feelings about him. What did she have to cry about? Huh...that's so weird.
So why couldn't she stop?
"Uh, well..." Maria got up off the bed. "I-I guess I b-better get going then." She said, suddenly finding her voice shaking. "D-don't worry. When I find out how to get out of here, I'll come back for you, a-and then we can all get off this island together." She started towards the door, now finding her hands shaking as she reached for the doorknob. For some reason, she found that she really, REALLY didn't want to leave the room. She wanted so badly to just stay behind with Duncan. But she couldn't. She had to find a way off the island, and she couldn't do something like that here.
"S...s-see ya." Maria said as she stepped through the door, closing the door behind her.
"Bye." She heard just before the door closed.
B76: DUNCAN MCMAHON - JUST RESTING
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
-
Sister Grimm†
- Posts: 172
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 6:38 am
Okay, reassuring. And not sarcastic, 'oh awesome, just great, really', but genuinely reassuring. Gloria seemed to fluctuate between relatively kind of okay, to, well, this. You know, tears, almost breaking down. It wasn't like he could fault her, let him make that clear. Hell, if he was alone, he'd likely break down himself. But he wasn't, so he couldn't. Geez, if she was this terrified and uncertain when he was acting reasonably, how would she go if he was going to pieces? Okay, bad idea, things were bad enough without going into...sort of thing.
Well, she was collected now. Fine, awesome. No problemo. He offered another smile. "Yeah, class rotation is fine. The Commander Shepard to your Ashely Williams." Micheal glanced over his shoulder toward the cluster of buildings before looking back at Gloria after a moments thought. "It might be safer to just cut through. I mean, some rogue could be hiding out inside, just waiting to gank us. No, yeah, buildings are dangerous. Might be even better to avoid them completely, you know? But we're already here and it would take just as long to go around. My reasoning seems sketchy here, I think, but anyway. Let's just work on making it through now, okay?"
The gamer looked back over at the buildings, trying to think of which one would be most appealing to a camper. If they had a gun, the taller the better, especially if it had a decent view of the area outside. All that would require was a decent hiding spot, then they could just pop up and shoot the two of them as they were going by. If the camper only had a melee weapon, they might be waiting by a door on the ground floor, listening for the first sound of someone passing by.
If either turned out to be true, chances of making it through the buildings were slim, to say-No, hold on, bad bad bad idea. Thins were bad enough without making up imaginary threats. Which was true, but it hardly hurt to consider all the possibilities, right?
Maybe it was for the best that they waited around while he thought, judging by the rapid fire of a submachine gun somewhere among the buildings. That fast a rate of fire, it had to be an SMG. Maybe an uzi? Or a tec-9? MP5K? Geez, what other submachine guns did you see all the time in FPS's? You know what, never mind. Probably not the best time to decide what model of firearm someone was being killed with. Micheal grabbed Gloria's hand and dragged her toward one of the buildings, his eyes wide and darting around in his head. Where did the shooting come from again? He should have been trying to pinpoint it, rather then try to measure the rate of fire.
They should get inside, shouldn't they? But what if the person shooting was inside? Just, you know, waiting for someone else to come investigate? No, no thank you, he was fine where he was, crouching by the corner of one of the outlying buildings. At least he hadn't seen anyone there. After a long second of waiting for more shots, he looked back at Gloria. "It's okay, yeah? Just, probably someone testing out their gun. 'S all. Just, you follow me lead? I'm sure it's all good."
After a long long time without any sound, what seemed like hours really, Micheal inched around the corner, taking a tentative glance at what might be waiting for them. Someone was over there, sure. He got the impression of blue hair. Aside from that, it didn't look like they were armed. All the same, Micheal dug the claws out of his bag and held them in a white-knuckled grip. "Hello?" He called out, breaking the silence and already regretting it. "That, uh, wouldn't have been you shooting, would it? I mean, no judgments here if it was, but, you know, if it was, could you maybe possibly not shoot at me?"
Well, she was collected now. Fine, awesome. No problemo. He offered another smile. "Yeah, class rotation is fine. The Commander Shepard to your Ashely Williams." Micheal glanced over his shoulder toward the cluster of buildings before looking back at Gloria after a moments thought. "It might be safer to just cut through. I mean, some rogue could be hiding out inside, just waiting to gank us. No, yeah, buildings are dangerous. Might be even better to avoid them completely, you know? But we're already here and it would take just as long to go around. My reasoning seems sketchy here, I think, but anyway. Let's just work on making it through now, okay?"
The gamer looked back over at the buildings, trying to think of which one would be most appealing to a camper. If they had a gun, the taller the better, especially if it had a decent view of the area outside. All that would require was a decent hiding spot, then they could just pop up and shoot the two of them as they were going by. If the camper only had a melee weapon, they might be waiting by a door on the ground floor, listening for the first sound of someone passing by.
If either turned out to be true, chances of making it through the buildings were slim, to say-No, hold on, bad bad bad idea. Thins were bad enough without making up imaginary threats. Which was true, but it hardly hurt to consider all the possibilities, right?
Maybe it was for the best that they waited around while he thought, judging by the rapid fire of a submachine gun somewhere among the buildings. That fast a rate of fire, it had to be an SMG. Maybe an uzi? Or a tec-9? MP5K? Geez, what other submachine guns did you see all the time in FPS's? You know what, never mind. Probably not the best time to decide what model of firearm someone was being killed with. Micheal grabbed Gloria's hand and dragged her toward one of the buildings, his eyes wide and darting around in his head. Where did the shooting come from again? He should have been trying to pinpoint it, rather then try to measure the rate of fire.
They should get inside, shouldn't they? But what if the person shooting was inside? Just, you know, waiting for someone else to come investigate? No, no thank you, he was fine where he was, crouching by the corner of one of the outlying buildings. At least he hadn't seen anyone there. After a long second of waiting for more shots, he looked back at Gloria. "It's okay, yeah? Just, probably someone testing out their gun. 'S all. Just, you follow me lead? I'm sure it's all good."
After a long long time without any sound, what seemed like hours really, Micheal inched around the corner, taking a tentative glance at what might be waiting for them. Someone was over there, sure. He got the impression of blue hair. Aside from that, it didn't look like they were armed. All the same, Micheal dug the claws out of his bag and held them in a white-knuckled grip. "Hello?" He called out, breaking the silence and already regretting it. "That, uh, wouldn't have been you shooting, would it? I mean, no judgments here if it was, but, you know, if it was, could you maybe possibly not shoot at me?"
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(Skipping Moth for purposes of avoiding inactivity)
Even in his grumpy state, George had jumped reflexively at the sound of gunfire, diving to the grass as if he had been shot out of a cannon. Pulling himself to his feet, he was about to ask whether anything was okay when he saw Duncan and the wounds in Duncan's back. "Oh no...no please no!" he exclaimed mostly to himself, but as he was about to see if the man was okay, Maria interceded. For some reason, watching the two of them share their last words froze George in his tracks, and he instead looked around for the person who had fired the shots. Nothing. If the shooter was still lurking around, he-or she, George reminded himself-was hidden well, or had decided to move.
Turning back at Maria and Duncan, he saw the two of them going inside the house he had just left, and Maria setting Duncan on a bed. "Maria, I...I'm sorry," George said, barely able to talk. Only then did he notice that he had started tearing up, and wiped them away hurriedly to hide it. He couldn't be seen acting weak, now that Maria had lost someone who had obviously been a close companion. Also, the shooter could still be around, and hard as it was, George realized that he had to keep stock of the situation. "Whoever shot him is going to regret it," he murmured, also to himself, and hoisted the chair above his head like a club.
"You hear me?!" he shouted to the general area, "Whoever did this, you're dead!" Turning to talk to Maria, George said to her, "Maria, did Duncan have any sort of a weapon? Someone's hunting us, and all I have is this to fight with!" He waved the chair for emphasis. For George, the game had gone on long enough, and he wanted to end it. Even if it involved hunting down every killer on the island, he'd do it. He swore it.
Even in his grumpy state, George had jumped reflexively at the sound of gunfire, diving to the grass as if he had been shot out of a cannon. Pulling himself to his feet, he was about to ask whether anything was okay when he saw Duncan and the wounds in Duncan's back. "Oh no...no please no!" he exclaimed mostly to himself, but as he was about to see if the man was okay, Maria interceded. For some reason, watching the two of them share their last words froze George in his tracks, and he instead looked around for the person who had fired the shots. Nothing. If the shooter was still lurking around, he-or she, George reminded himself-was hidden well, or had decided to move.
Turning back at Maria and Duncan, he saw the two of them going inside the house he had just left, and Maria setting Duncan on a bed. "Maria, I...I'm sorry," George said, barely able to talk. Only then did he notice that he had started tearing up, and wiped them away hurriedly to hide it. He couldn't be seen acting weak, now that Maria had lost someone who had obviously been a close companion. Also, the shooter could still be around, and hard as it was, George realized that he had to keep stock of the situation. "Whoever shot him is going to regret it," he murmured, also to himself, and hoisted the chair above his head like a club.
"You hear me?!" he shouted to the general area, "Whoever did this, you're dead!" Turning to talk to Maria, George said to her, "Maria, did Duncan have any sort of a weapon? Someone's hunting us, and all I have is this to fight with!" He waved the chair for emphasis. For George, the game had gone on long enough, and he wanted to end it. Even if it involved hunting down every killer on the island, he'd do it. He swore it.
Gloria didn't know who either of those people were. Ashley who? Shepherd? She shook her head a little though, chasing that random thought away. She shouldn't focus on that. Focus on surviving instead. If she spent her time trying to think of or remember every game reference one or the other made, she might let her guard down and...
The mental image of her getting her head blown off entered Gloria's mind, and she felt a cold chill run down her spine. Hands tightening on the gun, she willed herself to stop thinking about that too. NO! None of that! You'll live, okay? You'll both live through this and go home! ....the police have to know where you are. Right? Gloria had heard about a few people mentioning this "game," but she was never into it herself. She knew next to nothing about it. Which was why it was easy for her to tell herself that police, the air force, someone would find them. They had to.
"Cut through th-the bui-buildings...'k-kay..." Gloria murmured. She looked over in the same direction Michael was, unable to help but wonder if they'd meet someone. The buildings could hide their classmates...people could use them for sleeping. Alternatively, there were a lot of seniors, so some of them had to be thinking the same thing Michael was. She just hoped anyone they ran into was friendly instead of murdero--
RATATATATATA!
"Kyaaa!" Gloria screamed without meaning to, jumping and lifting the gun at level with her chest. For a single, horrible second, she thought the gunfire was aimed at herself and Michael, and briefly pictured them both being riddled with holes. Big red holes in their chests and heads, arms and legs, red blood gushing out, probably the same way her Dad had gone ohGod...
But the firer was aiming elsewhere, they weren't even in their sight. Gloria tried to calm down, even out her breathing as Michael took her hand and ran. Don't let him find us, don't find us, Dad don't let him find us, I don't wanna die, oh God.. Her legs gave out as they reached the corner of one of the buildings, making her fall to her knees, gun hitting the ground as she dropped it. She took in gulping breaths as she tried to stop trembling, only vaguely hearing Michael talk.
"It's okay, yeah? Just, probably someone testing out their gun. 'S all. Just, you follow me lead? I'm sure it's all good."
"L-Lead...?" she whispered, looking up. Then her eyes widened behind her glasses as she saw him look around the corner--she herself was too afraid to look, too afraid to see who it was. No..No, that's a bad idea, bad! Even with the claws--Wolverine? a tiny part in the back of her mind asked--looking around the corner made him a target. And claws were no match against a machine gun!
"That, uh, wouldn't have been you shooting, would it? I mean, no judgments here if it was, but, you know, if it was, could you maybe possibly not shoot at me?"
"N-No!" she whispered hoarsely, grabbing at the back of his shirt with her thumb and forefinger. Shaking her head, she kept whispering, "N-No! N-n-no, if h-he has a...a g-gun and f-fired...he'll do i-i-it ag-again! G-Get back, p-p-pl-please get b-back, d-don't want y-you shot too..."
"Gloria, this isn't easy to say....Your father was chasing down a suspect..."
"Y-You're open..."
"The suspect was armed and desperate..."
"Get back, p-p-please..." she choked. "Y-You sh-should just r-run, not t-talk to him! Y-You'll die..."
"Your father was shot. He's gone."
"....don't l-let him shoot you..."
The mental image of her getting her head blown off entered Gloria's mind, and she felt a cold chill run down her spine. Hands tightening on the gun, she willed herself to stop thinking about that too. NO! None of that! You'll live, okay? You'll both live through this and go home! ....the police have to know where you are. Right? Gloria had heard about a few people mentioning this "game," but she was never into it herself. She knew next to nothing about it. Which was why it was easy for her to tell herself that police, the air force, someone would find them. They had to.
"Cut through th-the bui-buildings...'k-kay..." Gloria murmured. She looked over in the same direction Michael was, unable to help but wonder if they'd meet someone. The buildings could hide their classmates...people could use them for sleeping. Alternatively, there were a lot of seniors, so some of them had to be thinking the same thing Michael was. She just hoped anyone they ran into was friendly instead of murdero--
RATATATATATA!
"Kyaaa!" Gloria screamed without meaning to, jumping and lifting the gun at level with her chest. For a single, horrible second, she thought the gunfire was aimed at herself and Michael, and briefly pictured them both being riddled with holes. Big red holes in their chests and heads, arms and legs, red blood gushing out, probably the same way her Dad had gone ohGod...
But the firer was aiming elsewhere, they weren't even in their sight. Gloria tried to calm down, even out her breathing as Michael took her hand and ran. Don't let him find us, don't find us, Dad don't let him find us, I don't wanna die, oh God.. Her legs gave out as they reached the corner of one of the buildings, making her fall to her knees, gun hitting the ground as she dropped it. She took in gulping breaths as she tried to stop trembling, only vaguely hearing Michael talk.
"It's okay, yeah? Just, probably someone testing out their gun. 'S all. Just, you follow me lead? I'm sure it's all good."
"L-Lead...?" she whispered, looking up. Then her eyes widened behind her glasses as she saw him look around the corner--she herself was too afraid to look, too afraid to see who it was. No..No, that's a bad idea, bad! Even with the claws--Wolverine? a tiny part in the back of her mind asked--looking around the corner made him a target. And claws were no match against a machine gun!
"That, uh, wouldn't have been you shooting, would it? I mean, no judgments here if it was, but, you know, if it was, could you maybe possibly not shoot at me?"
"N-No!" she whispered hoarsely, grabbing at the back of his shirt with her thumb and forefinger. Shaking her head, she kept whispering, "N-No! N-n-no, if h-he has a...a g-gun and f-fired...he'll do i-i-it ag-again! G-Get back, p-p-pl-please get b-back, d-don't want y-you shot too..."
"Gloria, this isn't easy to say....Your father was chasing down a suspect..."
"Y-You're open..."
"The suspect was armed and desperate..."
"Get back, p-p-please..." she choked. "Y-You sh-should just r-run, not t-talk to him! Y-You'll die..."
"Your father was shot. He's gone."
"....don't l-let him shoot you..."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Moth. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Just like she thought. Duncan came back with them. The three of them were inseparable, and everything would be happy forever. Everything.
Then she saw him. He crept up behind Duncan and slid out of a nearby shadow, concentrating intently on the other boy. Cassie's heart skipped a beat when she saw him, the willowy blonde superstar who somehow managed to get on the island out of nowhere. He held in his hands a gun with a barrel full of holes and a long rectangle attached to the bottom. She froze and looked at him as he readied the gun. "Winston?"
"Hey, Maria! Are you alr-"
Several bright flashes and loud bangs emitted from that wiffle barrel as the grim-faced boy pulled the trigger. Duncan's chest erupted into gouts of blood and loose flesh, much of which stained the left side of her shirt in eye-popping crimson. Duncan and Maria hit the ground, while Cassie remained standing, looking down at Duncan's body in disbelief. Her eyes shifted back to the boy with the gun, who also looked down at Duncan's smoking course before staring right back into her eyes.
It seemed like her jaw was made of twenty-pound granite; no muscle could lift it without snapping. But she noticed her vision blurring, and she forced herself to close her mouth and wipe her eyes. "Winston, why?" she asked with a strained voice.
The boy furrowed his brow. "Because you couldn't do it yourself," he replied. His tone of voice was harsh, harsher than she'd ever known him to direct at her. "You're coming home to me whether you like it or not, and if they won't let you, if they think they deserve to win any more than you, then they have to go, too." He brought a thumb up to his throat and drew it across, miming a decapitation.
"No!" she cried. "Shut up! You're not real!"
"Would you prefer to die?" he snarled. "I'll be back for Maria. Don't even try and stop me."
Then she blinked, and in the moment her eyes closed the boy changed. His platinum blonde hair changed to brown with red highlights. His body became taller and sturdier, his clothes fancier. Most importantly, the piercing glare on his face vanished; he now looked at her with a confused expression. Confused and annoyed.
His gun hadn't changed at all, though. It was still the same, still loaded, still deadly. He was armed, and she'd talked nonsensically to him for no reason he could probably tell. This left her in a bit of a predicament, as it happened. By this time Maria had vamoosed, taking Duncan's dying body with her. and she heard them talking in a nearby house. She stepped back, holding her javelin up as a pathetic shield to protect her. Dare she look back for the route they took, risk getting shot a bazillion times before she could run?
Seconds passed. She still lived. With one swift motion, she turned and ran, rushing into an open door and looking down onto a bed with Duncan. By now, Maria's steadfast friend, the long-suffering companion to her childish antics, her better half, had passed on. Maria gave him one last look before leaving the room, but Cassidy couldn't follow.
She needed a moment to pull herself together.
Then she saw him. He crept up behind Duncan and slid out of a nearby shadow, concentrating intently on the other boy. Cassie's heart skipped a beat when she saw him, the willowy blonde superstar who somehow managed to get on the island out of nowhere. He held in his hands a gun with a barrel full of holes and a long rectangle attached to the bottom. She froze and looked at him as he readied the gun. "Winston?"
"Hey, Maria! Are you alr-"
Several bright flashes and loud bangs emitted from that wiffle barrel as the grim-faced boy pulled the trigger. Duncan's chest erupted into gouts of blood and loose flesh, much of which stained the left side of her shirt in eye-popping crimson. Duncan and Maria hit the ground, while Cassie remained standing, looking down at Duncan's body in disbelief. Her eyes shifted back to the boy with the gun, who also looked down at Duncan's smoking course before staring right back into her eyes.
It seemed like her jaw was made of twenty-pound granite; no muscle could lift it without snapping. But she noticed her vision blurring, and she forced herself to close her mouth and wipe her eyes. "Winston, why?" she asked with a strained voice.
The boy furrowed his brow. "Because you couldn't do it yourself," he replied. His tone of voice was harsh, harsher than she'd ever known him to direct at her. "You're coming home to me whether you like it or not, and if they won't let you, if they think they deserve to win any more than you, then they have to go, too." He brought a thumb up to his throat and drew it across, miming a decapitation.
"No!" she cried. "Shut up! You're not real!"
"Would you prefer to die?" he snarled. "I'll be back for Maria. Don't even try and stop me."
Then she blinked, and in the moment her eyes closed the boy changed. His platinum blonde hair changed to brown with red highlights. His body became taller and sturdier, his clothes fancier. Most importantly, the piercing glare on his face vanished; he now looked at her with a confused expression. Confused and annoyed.
His gun hadn't changed at all, though. It was still the same, still loaded, still deadly. He was armed, and she'd talked nonsensically to him for no reason he could probably tell. This left her in a bit of a predicament, as it happened. By this time Maria had vamoosed, taking Duncan's dying body with her. and she heard them talking in a nearby house. She stepped back, holding her javelin up as a pathetic shield to protect her. Dare she look back for the route they took, risk getting shot a bazillion times before she could run?
Seconds passed. She still lived. With one swift motion, she turned and ran, rushing into an open door and looking down onto a bed with Duncan. By now, Maria's steadfast friend, the long-suffering companion to her childish antics, her better half, had passed on. Maria gave him one last look before leaving the room, but Cassidy couldn't follow.
She needed a moment to pull herself together.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solitair. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Ahh, truly theres nothing more satisfying than watching your target fall in a hail of bullets...
Most people who'd made it this far in the game would have probably felt guilty by this point, after claiming the lives of nine innocent people just so they themselves can make it off the island in one piece. Most people would have felt regret for what they had done, or at the very least be sickened by the actions they had committed in order to get to this stage. But for Maxwell Lombardi, there was something uniquely enthralling about the game which excited him beyond anything else he'd ever done in his entire life. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush he experienced whilst going in for the kill, or maybe it was the incomparable feeling of satisfaction he felt as he stood over the corpse of yet another simian who stood between him and total freedom. Either way, what mattered to Maxwell at that very moment was the fact that once again he was one step closer to getting off this rock. One step closer to returning to a life of unparalleled admiration and fame.
One step closer to the award he deserved for all his hard work and effort...
However, the well-dressed killer didn't have much time to gloss over his perfectly executed kill before noticing that the man he'd just shot wasn't quite as alone as he'd first assumed. He was actually quite shocked when he realised that he'd been so focused on the denim-clad moron before him to not notice the two girls he was running towards. What!?! How did they...?!? How did I not notice?!? Is one of them actually talking to me? Nevermind, if they're hungry for some lead as well who am I to complain about it...
With a new set of targets in sight, the young Brit quickly aimed his weapon in their direction and wasted no time in pulling the trigger. However, rather than unleashing a deadly hail of bullets in his victim's direction, the TEC-9 made a simple clicking noise that Maxwell had grown far too used to hearing...
Empty? EMPTY?!? God dammit Maxwell, you had to get carried away again didn't you?!? A short burst, that's all you were meant to use. But instead you had to go ahead and go fully automatic, wasting god knows how much ammunition on some tool who probably wasn't even worth it...
In that brief moment of silence, Maxwell was uncertain as to what to do next. He COULD just whip out his pistol, the very same pistol that had saved his life countless times in the past, and open fire on these worthless cretins. On the other hand, he hadn't a clue how much ammunition was left on it. He must of used up at least half of it already on the blond-haired brick wall he ran into earlier, and considering the fact that from where he was standing he doubted he could hit them from here with one shot each...
Most of all however, was that despite the adrenaline running through his veins at that very moment, he was still suffering from the effects of sleep loss. His vision was far too blurry to properly make out the two people in front of him... Heck, that was probably the reason why he didn't spot them in the first place. The reason he came here was to find somewhere to sleep after all...
You know what, fuck it. I've wasted enough ammunition here already...
So, with that in mind, the young Brit quickly dashed back into the shadows, weaving his way through the various alleyways and backgardens that made up the fringe of the residential district. He could of almost sworn he heard one or two people calling out for whoever was shooting, one of whom was even swearing vengeance against him... Or, something along those lines. Maxwell wasn't really paying attention to be truly honest.
Don't worry, i'm sure you and the rest of those would-be avengers out there will eventually have the opportunity to wreak sweet vengeance upon me... Right before I shoot you in the gut for being such a nuisance, of course.
((Maxwell Lombardi continued In the House, In a Heartbeat))
Most people who'd made it this far in the game would have probably felt guilty by this point, after claiming the lives of nine innocent people just so they themselves can make it off the island in one piece. Most people would have felt regret for what they had done, or at the very least be sickened by the actions they had committed in order to get to this stage. But for Maxwell Lombardi, there was something uniquely enthralling about the game which excited him beyond anything else he'd ever done in his entire life. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush he experienced whilst going in for the kill, or maybe it was the incomparable feeling of satisfaction he felt as he stood over the corpse of yet another simian who stood between him and total freedom. Either way, what mattered to Maxwell at that very moment was the fact that once again he was one step closer to getting off this rock. One step closer to returning to a life of unparalleled admiration and fame.
One step closer to the award he deserved for all his hard work and effort...
However, the well-dressed killer didn't have much time to gloss over his perfectly executed kill before noticing that the man he'd just shot wasn't quite as alone as he'd first assumed. He was actually quite shocked when he realised that he'd been so focused on the denim-clad moron before him to not notice the two girls he was running towards. What!?! How did they...?!? How did I not notice?!? Is one of them actually talking to me? Nevermind, if they're hungry for some lead as well who am I to complain about it...
With a new set of targets in sight, the young Brit quickly aimed his weapon in their direction and wasted no time in pulling the trigger. However, rather than unleashing a deadly hail of bullets in his victim's direction, the TEC-9 made a simple clicking noise that Maxwell had grown far too used to hearing...
Empty? EMPTY?!? God dammit Maxwell, you had to get carried away again didn't you?!? A short burst, that's all you were meant to use. But instead you had to go ahead and go fully automatic, wasting god knows how much ammunition on some tool who probably wasn't even worth it...
In that brief moment of silence, Maxwell was uncertain as to what to do next. He COULD just whip out his pistol, the very same pistol that had saved his life countless times in the past, and open fire on these worthless cretins. On the other hand, he hadn't a clue how much ammunition was left on it. He must of used up at least half of it already on the blond-haired brick wall he ran into earlier, and considering the fact that from where he was standing he doubted he could hit them from here with one shot each...
Most of all however, was that despite the adrenaline running through his veins at that very moment, he was still suffering from the effects of sleep loss. His vision was far too blurry to properly make out the two people in front of him... Heck, that was probably the reason why he didn't spot them in the first place. The reason he came here was to find somewhere to sleep after all...
You know what, fuck it. I've wasted enough ammunition here already...
So, with that in mind, the young Brit quickly dashed back into the shadows, weaving his way through the various alleyways and backgardens that made up the fringe of the residential district. He could of almost sworn he heard one or two people calling out for whoever was shooting, one of whom was even swearing vengeance against him... Or, something along those lines. Maxwell wasn't really paying attention to be truly honest.
Don't worry, i'm sure you and the rest of those would-be avengers out there will eventually have the opportunity to wreak sweet vengeance upon me... Right before I shoot you in the gut for being such a nuisance, of course.
((Maxwell Lombardi continued In the House, In a Heartbeat))
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