((Ethan Kent continued from All That I've Ever Known))
Ethan slowly awoke from his slumber. After the day he had, the boy had fallen into a sleep of the dead, deep and dreamless. At first he wasn't quite sure where he was. Another question he asked himself was who was the owner of the warm body he was currently holding to his own? Despite the nightmarish situation he was coming to remember, Ethan couldn't help a little grin.
I'm going to be so incredibly pissed if this is Duncan.
His hand roamed over the gentle silhouette of curved hips, leading to a warm, toned stomach. His hand continued up, brushing carelessly over her breasts, stopping finally at her face.
The eerie green of a glow stick on the floor provided a little bit of light in the dark tunnel; enough for them to see but not enough to attract attention. Ethan, Feo and Duncan had escaped the sawmill and found their way into the tunnels where they decided to set up camp for the night. It was rather tense the three of the sitting around, sharpening sticks with rocks since they had been dealt unfortunate "weapons" if one would even call them that, but somehow he and Feo had ended up sharing body heat and this made him smile.
He stroked her cheek lightly.
Short hair looks good on you.
It was amusing to him that they were like this, knowing all the while that he'd kill her if he had good reason and that she'd probably do the same. He settled back down comfortably into his previous position by her and threw an arm over her hip.
Once we get down to it, your hand and your hair are going to be the least of your concerns, girl. If not by me then by someone else, cause I'm going to win.
The Man-slut, the Cocktease and the Lover
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
-
Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
{{continued from All That I've Ever Known}}
And then, a moment later, Ethan would be able to feel a sleeping Duncan roll over behind him, throwing an arm over him and spooning.
"Maria..." Duncan mumbled, and fortunately did nothing else, at least until a while later when he opened his eyes and sleepily looked around, taking a moment to realize what he was going.
"OOOOHJesushell." Duncan rolled away with a quickness, and winced as he hit his head on the tunnel wall. This day was just going splendidly. At least he had something that could be vaguely called a weapon now, and Maria was still alive, and apparently hadn't killed anybody. And nobody in his party had gone insane and tried to kill anybody else, either.
Right, it could almost make you forget about the fact that you're still trapped on an island where you're more than likely die some brutal, horrible death eventually. With fire. Because that's always fun.
Sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, he looked out towards the entrance of the tunnel. "So...what are we doing today?"
And then, a moment later, Ethan would be able to feel a sleeping Duncan roll over behind him, throwing an arm over him and spooning.
"Maria..." Duncan mumbled, and fortunately did nothing else, at least until a while later when he opened his eyes and sleepily looked around, taking a moment to realize what he was going.
"OOOOHJesushell." Duncan rolled away with a quickness, and winced as he hit his head on the tunnel wall. This day was just going splendidly. At least he had something that could be vaguely called a weapon now, and Maria was still alive, and apparently hadn't killed anybody. And nobody in his party had gone insane and tried to kill anybody else, either.
Right, it could almost make you forget about the fact that you're still trapped on an island where you're more than likely die some brutal, horrible death eventually. With fire. Because that's always fun.
Sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, he looked out towards the entrance of the tunnel. "So...what are we doing today?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
-
Sunnybunny
- Posts: 384
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
((Feo Eleri Smith countiued from All That I've Ever Known))
Mmmmmm . . .
Feo never slept late. So much to do. The morning run, the morning transformation from a girl who'd lucked up with good genes to a model. She didn't even stay in bed the morning after prom.
But what was there to wake up for? She'd have to think again, later for that. And Ethan felt damn good right now. The world could wait, this game could wait, everyone could just hold the fuck up for a minute.
She had power-cuddling to do, and she had never been one for cuddling. But she had to take her victories where she could get them.
Mmmmm . . . wonder if I could get a threesome out of this . . . Why not try . . .
"Wren go away. Five more hourzzz." She moaned softly, hoping Wren would just let her sleep for once.
Mmmmmm . . .
Feo never slept late. So much to do. The morning run, the morning transformation from a girl who'd lucked up with good genes to a model. She didn't even stay in bed the morning after prom.
But what was there to wake up for? She'd have to think again, later for that. And Ethan felt damn good right now. The world could wait, this game could wait, everyone could just hold the fuck up for a minute.
She had power-cuddling to do, and she had never been one for cuddling. But she had to take her victories where she could get them.
Mmmmm . . . wonder if I could get a threesome out of this . . . Why not try . . .
"Wren go away. Five more hourzzz." She moaned softly, hoping Wren would just let her sleep for once.
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
-
Shake&Bake†
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:13 pm
G112 Haruka Watanabe - Debut!
"OOH! Jesushell."
Haruka's fingertips dug into the long handle of her oar and she jumped backwards by surprise. In the thick, cold darkness beneath the mountains, she had heard whispers and distant echoes. The obscure ones had sent shivers down her spine and made her ever more scared than she had been before, the fears of suffocation, isolation, getting lost and being crushed under falling rocks.
The louder ones had caused her knees to knock together and her hands to clamp down on the oar until her knuckles turned paper white. Frozen stiff in the darkness, too afraid to venture onwards or run back the way she had came, she stood there a pathetic statue, waiting for her worries and fear to diminish. Eventually, she'd move on, following the pale circle of light dancing over the damp, stone floor. She kept her grip on the flashlight firm, in case it slipped from her jittery hand and broke on the floor.
I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I don't want to die! Haruka thought, slowly inching her thumb up the shaft of the flashlight before pressing down on the switch. She was bathed in the thick darkness, hidden amongst clouds anxiety and unease. She wrenched her eyes shut, shielding them from the darkness that was sure to only worry her further. Her petite frame trembled skittishly, glued to the spot.
A varnish of cold sweat and grime coated her clammy face, however her cheeks were partly clear due to the consistent flow of tears. It would be an unknown length of time before Haruka opened her eyes again and worked up the courage to move on. She didn't know whether the pause was several minutes or just over an hour. She did however, recap in her head everything that had happened so far.
She remembered the trip, waiting to check out the scenery and maybe take some pictures. Even though she was shy, she was looking forwards to some nostalgia fuelled interaction with her peers. The idea that maybe, if this was one of the last times they'd all be together, she wouldn't be too shy to join in with the fun, and maybe make some more friends. And then of course, the sleep.
She didn't know why, but felt very sleepy, and soon went under. It was like the time she fainted, only worse. Her head hurt and everything was warped and distorted when she woke up, as if her retinas had been spritzed with a drug. A collar. A bag. An oar. All alone in the middle of these overgrown grounds and she eventually came to realise she was on Survival of the Fittest.
It wasn't long before the big open space and the sense of exposure had caused her to retreat under ground like some cowardly bumbling insect. And then that was where she had remained, hidden from her peers, cutting herself off again like she always had done in Bayview.
Minutes and hours had melted away at unknown intervals, and eventually as was coated in dust and began to find it harder to breath, she wished for nothing more than to return to the surface. She felt trapped and confined, like she had willingly wandered into her own tomb and had gone so far in, she had forgotten the way out.
Fear and paranoia had set it. Something was sniffing her out. There were eyes watching in the dark. The whispers. The echoes. Everything following her, the tunnels waiting to swallow her in like a pitiful fly who made the foolish mistake of descending into a hungry pitcher plant. Waiting to be dissolved in the acids dripping from the walls...
Time had a strange flow in tunnels, what could be vast amounts of time wasted on something that seemed so hurried could also play as seconds passing sluggishly as you tried to navigate your way through the darkness. Eventually the rapid beating of her heart slowed down to a steady pace and the shivers died down until she was reasonably calm.
She opened her eyes, and after several minutes of squinting in the darkness, she could make out a faint, dim green glow coming from up ahead. She knew right there and then that she wanted to turn on her heel and sneak her way, but something within her drew her towards the glimmer.
Perhaps it was a mix of curiosity and the bitter loneliness she had endured for the past day.
It could have also been her desperate crave for fresh air and to see the sky one last time.
She took another gentle step forwards, gently tucking the flashlight into her bag. Her free hand then reinforced her grip on the oar, her one defence against attack. Go away! Leave it! Turn back! Please! Her mind begged her to turn back and escape from whatever lay ahead whilst she had the chance, but that feeling of curiosity and desire of freedom in her gut drew her closer and closer. As she made her way further towards the glow, she became aware of a bend in the tunnels.
She crept towards the wall, and used one hand to guide her way along the dark corridor. The oar began to shake slightly in her grip which had began trembling again. Her lip began quivering and her stomach tied itself in a knot. Go! Please! Stay away! Haruka wouldn't listen, she had come too far to simply turn and scamper off like a frightened rabbit. She shut her eyes as her fingers met the supporting beam, and slowly poked her head around the corner.
"OOH! Jesushell."
Haruka's fingertips dug into the long handle of her oar and she jumped backwards by surprise. In the thick, cold darkness beneath the mountains, she had heard whispers and distant echoes. The obscure ones had sent shivers down her spine and made her ever more scared than she had been before, the fears of suffocation, isolation, getting lost and being crushed under falling rocks.
The louder ones had caused her knees to knock together and her hands to clamp down on the oar until her knuckles turned paper white. Frozen stiff in the darkness, too afraid to venture onwards or run back the way she had came, she stood there a pathetic statue, waiting for her worries and fear to diminish. Eventually, she'd move on, following the pale circle of light dancing over the damp, stone floor. She kept her grip on the flashlight firm, in case it slipped from her jittery hand and broke on the floor.
I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I don't want to die! Haruka thought, slowly inching her thumb up the shaft of the flashlight before pressing down on the switch. She was bathed in the thick darkness, hidden amongst clouds anxiety and unease. She wrenched her eyes shut, shielding them from the darkness that was sure to only worry her further. Her petite frame trembled skittishly, glued to the spot.
A varnish of cold sweat and grime coated her clammy face, however her cheeks were partly clear due to the consistent flow of tears. It would be an unknown length of time before Haruka opened her eyes again and worked up the courage to move on. She didn't know whether the pause was several minutes or just over an hour. She did however, recap in her head everything that had happened so far.
She remembered the trip, waiting to check out the scenery and maybe take some pictures. Even though she was shy, she was looking forwards to some nostalgia fuelled interaction with her peers. The idea that maybe, if this was one of the last times they'd all be together, she wouldn't be too shy to join in with the fun, and maybe make some more friends. And then of course, the sleep.
She didn't know why, but felt very sleepy, and soon went under. It was like the time she fainted, only worse. Her head hurt and everything was warped and distorted when she woke up, as if her retinas had been spritzed with a drug. A collar. A bag. An oar. All alone in the middle of these overgrown grounds and she eventually came to realise she was on Survival of the Fittest.
It wasn't long before the big open space and the sense of exposure had caused her to retreat under ground like some cowardly bumbling insect. And then that was where she had remained, hidden from her peers, cutting herself off again like she always had done in Bayview.
Minutes and hours had melted away at unknown intervals, and eventually as was coated in dust and began to find it harder to breath, she wished for nothing more than to return to the surface. She felt trapped and confined, like she had willingly wandered into her own tomb and had gone so far in, she had forgotten the way out.
Fear and paranoia had set it. Something was sniffing her out. There were eyes watching in the dark. The whispers. The echoes. Everything following her, the tunnels waiting to swallow her in like a pitiful fly who made the foolish mistake of descending into a hungry pitcher plant. Waiting to be dissolved in the acids dripping from the walls...
Time had a strange flow in tunnels, what could be vast amounts of time wasted on something that seemed so hurried could also play as seconds passing sluggishly as you tried to navigate your way through the darkness. Eventually the rapid beating of her heart slowed down to a steady pace and the shivers died down until she was reasonably calm.
She opened her eyes, and after several minutes of squinting in the darkness, she could make out a faint, dim green glow coming from up ahead. She knew right there and then that she wanted to turn on her heel and sneak her way, but something within her drew her towards the glimmer.
Perhaps it was a mix of curiosity and the bitter loneliness she had endured for the past day.
It could have also been her desperate crave for fresh air and to see the sky one last time.
She took another gentle step forwards, gently tucking the flashlight into her bag. Her free hand then reinforced her grip on the oar, her one defence against attack. Go away! Leave it! Turn back! Please! Her mind begged her to turn back and escape from whatever lay ahead whilst she had the chance, but that feeling of curiosity and desire of freedom in her gut drew her closer and closer. As she made her way further towards the glow, she became aware of a bend in the tunnels.
She crept towards the wall, and used one hand to guide her way along the dark corridor. The oar began to shake slightly in her grip which had began trembling again. Her lip began quivering and her stomach tied itself in a knot. Go! Please! Stay away! Haruka wouldn't listen, she had come too far to simply turn and scamper off like a frightened rabbit. She shut her eyes as her fingers met the supporting beam, and slowly poked her head around the corner.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Shake&Bake. 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.
((G066, Francesca Fiametta.))
Francesca Fiametta awoke to the familiar strains of a throbbing headache.
She didn't remember exactly how she had found herself lying face down on the tunnel floor, nor did she remember the mother of all shit-fits that caused her to trip and fall into the fucking tunnel in the first place. Frankie shakily pushed herself up, the mud of the tunnel floor coating her face in a mask that a beautician would say would do wonders for her complexion. But she wasn't here for a face pack and a fucking pedicure.
Nope, this was some fucking maniac's snuff film, and guess who just got cast as the leading lady. Fuck, she'd kill for a joint right now. Hell, she'd settle for some of Ily's medication.
Oh God, Ily, Rosa. Where are they?
She needed to find them. Fast. If they were in trouble, she'd need to. Frankie would never forgive herself if they got hurt, or... considering where she was, worse.
Frankie's teeth started to clash together rapidly and a chill ran down her spine. Fuck, it was cold down here. Even with her coat on, she was freezing. She needed to get up, warm herself up before she died of hypothermia or God knows what else killed people in the cold. Frostbite, was it? Yeah, that was the one. Her thin arms struggled to push her shivering body up. She was a fucking Soccer player, not a goddamned Weightlifter.
She struggled to her feet and took a couple of shaky steps forwards, trying to find her balance again. She was taking it slowly, trying to avoid faceplanting the ground. Baby Steps. Any progress at all was good progress.
Now that that was out of the way, Frankie could get moving. Trying to come out the way she came was, to put it as bluntly as possible, fucking impossible. She had absolutely no idea how long she'd been down there. Hours, maybe days? God, she didn't even know the fucking day she'd started on. Monday? Sure, let's go with Monday. Not like she'd brought a watch or anything. For all she knew, she'd been down there a week and everyone else had just upped and gone home.
Frankie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, holding the power button until she got a response. Good, the thing still had a charge. She went down her adress book, stopping on Rosa, dialling the number and sticking the phone up to her ear.
"Please pick up, please pick up..." Frankie muttered under her breath, only to be met with a single, shrill tone.
Frankie checked the signal bar. Absolute Zero. Fuck. In hindsight, Frankie had no idea why it should've had signal, anyway. She had enough problems getting a signal in school, let alone underground. Frankie pocketed the phone and picked up her bag, not even bothering to look through it as she slung it over her shoulder and started walking.
Francesca Fiametta awoke to the familiar strains of a throbbing headache.
She didn't remember exactly how she had found herself lying face down on the tunnel floor, nor did she remember the mother of all shit-fits that caused her to trip and fall into the fucking tunnel in the first place. Frankie shakily pushed herself up, the mud of the tunnel floor coating her face in a mask that a beautician would say would do wonders for her complexion. But she wasn't here for a face pack and a fucking pedicure.
Nope, this was some fucking maniac's snuff film, and guess who just got cast as the leading lady. Fuck, she'd kill for a joint right now. Hell, she'd settle for some of Ily's medication.
Oh God, Ily, Rosa. Where are they?
She needed to find them. Fast. If they were in trouble, she'd need to. Frankie would never forgive herself if they got hurt, or... considering where she was, worse.
Frankie's teeth started to clash together rapidly and a chill ran down her spine. Fuck, it was cold down here. Even with her coat on, she was freezing. She needed to get up, warm herself up before she died of hypothermia or God knows what else killed people in the cold. Frostbite, was it? Yeah, that was the one. Her thin arms struggled to push her shivering body up. She was a fucking Soccer player, not a goddamned Weightlifter.
She struggled to her feet and took a couple of shaky steps forwards, trying to find her balance again. She was taking it slowly, trying to avoid faceplanting the ground. Baby Steps. Any progress at all was good progress.
Now that that was out of the way, Frankie could get moving. Trying to come out the way she came was, to put it as bluntly as possible, fucking impossible. She had absolutely no idea how long she'd been down there. Hours, maybe days? God, she didn't even know the fucking day she'd started on. Monday? Sure, let's go with Monday. Not like she'd brought a watch or anything. For all she knew, she'd been down there a week and everyone else had just upped and gone home.
Frankie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, holding the power button until she got a response. Good, the thing still had a charge. She went down her adress book, stopping on Rosa, dialling the number and sticking the phone up to her ear.
"Please pick up, please pick up..." Frankie muttered under her breath, only to be met with a single, shrill tone.
Frankie checked the signal bar. Absolute Zero. Fuck. In hindsight, Frankie had no idea why it should've had signal, anyway. She had enough problems getting a signal in school, let alone underground. Frankie pocketed the phone and picked up her bag, not even bothering to look through it as she slung it over her shoulder and started walking.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Badb.
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
Ethan's hand slowly followed the curve of the sleeping girl's cheek down to her neck. With his other hand, he trailed his fingers up the side of her smooth leg, coming to stop at the pleated hem of her skirt.
The soft glow of the discarded rod on the floor threw an alien light over the two bodies. Gradually, the thumb of his right hand slipped under her chin, forming a half circle around her neck. A hollow wind noise sounded through the tunnels, but the warmth between the two of them made the space seem oddly womb-like.
Amazing. If I wanted to, if I just applied a little bit of pressure... She'd slip away, literally beneath my fingers with nothing but the rocks and the lizards and the darkness; all lucky witnesses.
The hand around her neck didn't move, still resting feather light against her slender throat. His fingers played on the boundary between exposed thigh and the underside of the fabric, the tips running along the edges.
Could I though? We are underground where no one would see.....she might not even wake Duncan if she couldn't scream. I wouldn't, there'd be no point to do it now, but could I? You need to be able to think like that to win. I'm already thinking like that so I guess that means I've got what it takes. That boy on the video certainly could. Just to prove to myself that when the time comes and I go up against someone I do have history with, I won't hesitate. Could I?
The hand moved slightly upward under the skirt, the other tightened slightly around her neck.
Suddenly he felt a hand and a body roll into him. In shock he drew back his hands from Feo, turned and saw it was Duncan. He shook his head and sighed.
Jesus. Just him.
He sighed, wrapped his arm around Feo again and put his head down. Soon he heard Duncan hit the cave wall and yell.
"Duncan, I'm not that kind of girl. If you wanna do that, dinner first. So for this place, it means go catch a fish or something and we'll talk." He replied drowsily.
His eyes flew open when from far off, he could make out the sound of footsteps.
"You hear that?"
The soft glow of the discarded rod on the floor threw an alien light over the two bodies. Gradually, the thumb of his right hand slipped under her chin, forming a half circle around her neck. A hollow wind noise sounded through the tunnels, but the warmth between the two of them made the space seem oddly womb-like.
Amazing. If I wanted to, if I just applied a little bit of pressure... She'd slip away, literally beneath my fingers with nothing but the rocks and the lizards and the darkness; all lucky witnesses.
The hand around her neck didn't move, still resting feather light against her slender throat. His fingers played on the boundary between exposed thigh and the underside of the fabric, the tips running along the edges.
Could I though? We are underground where no one would see.....she might not even wake Duncan if she couldn't scream. I wouldn't, there'd be no point to do it now, but could I? You need to be able to think like that to win. I'm already thinking like that so I guess that means I've got what it takes. That boy on the video certainly could. Just to prove to myself that when the time comes and I go up against someone I do have history with, I won't hesitate. Could I?
The hand moved slightly upward under the skirt, the other tightened slightly around her neck.
Suddenly he felt a hand and a body roll into him. In shock he drew back his hands from Feo, turned and saw it was Duncan. He shook his head and sighed.
Jesus. Just him.
He sighed, wrapped his arm around Feo again and put his head down. Soon he heard Duncan hit the cave wall and yell.
"Duncan, I'm not that kind of girl. If you wanna do that, dinner first. So for this place, it means go catch a fish or something and we'll talk." He replied drowsily.
His eyes flew open when from far off, he could make out the sound of footsteps.
"You hear that?"
-
Sunnybunny
- Posts: 384
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
((I got permission to post in front of Llama.))
"You hear that?"
No, she didn't hear it. She didn't want to hear it. She wanted to go back to bed and her fucking hot wet dream, but that was not going to happen. She couldn't even remember what it was, but she still felt tingly. She rubbed her face, attempting to wake her self up.
Her shirt was over her bag, she had used it as a pillow. She was just wearing her bra and her skirt. For a moment, she remembered she was on camera. For that brief moment, she loved it, she knew she was hot. Exercise paying off, exhibitionism coming to life.
Then she remembered where she was, cut that shit out real quick.
She still didn't have anything to work with. Helpless. Hated it. Well, she had Ethan and Duncan, but how far would that go? She didn't really think they cared about her, not enough to die for her.
She wouldn't die for them, for anyone. She was going home.
She looked at Ethan. It was pretty obvious that he was more than willing to off her. Good, it would keep her on her toes. And she would keep him off his game.
She leaned into him, kissing his neck lightly. Nothing too much, just enough for him to know she was awake. Then she stood up and streched. She hoped whoever Duncan was fussing about didn't want to fight. At least, now until she manage to get a gun out of the sky.
"You hear that?"
No, she didn't hear it. She didn't want to hear it. She wanted to go back to bed and her fucking hot wet dream, but that was not going to happen. She couldn't even remember what it was, but she still felt tingly. She rubbed her face, attempting to wake her self up.
Her shirt was over her bag, she had used it as a pillow. She was just wearing her bra and her skirt. For a moment, she remembered she was on camera. For that brief moment, she loved it, she knew she was hot. Exercise paying off, exhibitionism coming to life.
Then she remembered where she was, cut that shit out real quick.
She still didn't have anything to work with. Helpless. Hated it. Well, she had Ethan and Duncan, but how far would that go? She didn't really think they cared about her, not enough to die for her.
She wouldn't die for them, for anyone. She was going home.
She looked at Ethan. It was pretty obvious that he was more than willing to off her. Good, it would keep her on her toes. And she would keep him off his game.
She leaned into him, kissing his neck lightly. Nothing too much, just enough for him to know she was awake. Then she stood up and streched. She hoped whoever Duncan was fussing about didn't want to fight. At least, now until she manage to get a gun out of the sky.
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
-
Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
"Duncan, I'm not that kind of girl. If you wanna do that, dinner first. So for this place, it means go catch a fish or something and we'll talk."
"Huh?" It took Duncan's groggy brain a moment to process what Ethan said, but as soon as he did, his face turned beet red. "W-hey, I-I didn't mean to...I mean, I was sleeping, a-and I guess I..." He sighed. Indeed, this day was just going so well. Looking down at Ethan, he noticed what he and Feo were doing, and shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. Maybe he should...go out and have a look around, see if there weren't any people sneaking around, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Or something.
Fortunately, the sound of footsteps gave him the excuse to do just that. Picking up the sharpened stick he'd prepared last night. He took a few steps towards the back of the tunnels before he caught sight of two girls just coming out from around the corner.
"Uh, hey." Duncan said, showing his masterful skill in the art of conversation. "You're not playing are you? Because we're not playing, and...uh, if none of us are playing, that'd be really great and...uh, stuff." Looking over towards his stick he was holding out, he quickly tried to hold it in a less threatening manner as he realized he might've been giving the wrong impression.
"Oh, uh...this. This is because I got a really, really bad weapon. We all did. So...uh, we ended up making these. They're not all that good..." As he talked, he realized, what if the two of them WERE playing? He was making himself look like a total pushover. He probably SHOULD appear at least a little threatening.
"...b-but if somebody attacked me, I'm sure I could fend them off with it. I-I'm not afraid to use it!" Taking a closer look at the girls, the two of them didn't really seem like players. Maybe he was just overreacting, and only really just scaring the crap out of them. He had to admit, if he had just gotten up, and one of the first people he encountered was waving a sharpened stick in his face, he'd be worried. Hell, he'd gotten even WORSE yesterday with that fucking dynamite.
"B-but you're not going to attack, right? Here, I'll just..." Duncan let go of the stick, which clattered loudly as it hit the ground. Then he realized how much of a stupid decision he had made. What if they really WERE playing?
Way to just disarm yourself like that, idiot. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you today?
"Huh?" It took Duncan's groggy brain a moment to process what Ethan said, but as soon as he did, his face turned beet red. "W-hey, I-I didn't mean to...I mean, I was sleeping, a-and I guess I..." He sighed. Indeed, this day was just going so well. Looking down at Ethan, he noticed what he and Feo were doing, and shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. Maybe he should...go out and have a look around, see if there weren't any people sneaking around, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Or something.
Fortunately, the sound of footsteps gave him the excuse to do just that. Picking up the sharpened stick he'd prepared last night. He took a few steps towards the back of the tunnels before he caught sight of two girls just coming out from around the corner.
"Uh, hey." Duncan said, showing his masterful skill in the art of conversation. "You're not playing are you? Because we're not playing, and...uh, if none of us are playing, that'd be really great and...uh, stuff." Looking over towards his stick he was holding out, he quickly tried to hold it in a less threatening manner as he realized he might've been giving the wrong impression.
"Oh, uh...this. This is because I got a really, really bad weapon. We all did. So...uh, we ended up making these. They're not all that good..." As he talked, he realized, what if the two of them WERE playing? He was making himself look like a total pushover. He probably SHOULD appear at least a little threatening.
"...b-but if somebody attacked me, I'm sure I could fend them off with it. I-I'm not afraid to use it!" Taking a closer look at the girls, the two of them didn't really seem like players. Maybe he was just overreacting, and only really just scaring the crap out of them. He had to admit, if he had just gotten up, and one of the first people he encountered was waving a sharpened stick in his face, he'd be worried. Hell, he'd gotten even WORSE yesterday with that fucking dynamite.
"B-but you're not going to attack, right? Here, I'll just..." Duncan let go of the stick, which clattered loudly as it hit the ground. Then he realized how much of a stupid decision he had made. What if they really WERE playing?
Way to just disarm yourself like that, idiot. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you today?
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
-
Shake&Bake†
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:13 pm
"Uh, hey."
I'm found out! I'm done for! I'm finished! I'm dead! Haruka quickly pulled back a couple of steps, her bangs fell across her shut eyes like a veil, her bottom lip quivering. Her routine defence mechanism took over again and she was frozen to the spot, obsolete.
Maybe he can't see me in the dark! Maybe this isn't actually happening! Maybe this is all a dream?!? Haruka slowly opened her eyes, and quickly shut them again with a light squeal. It's real! It's real! It's real!
"You're not playing are you? Because we're not playing, and...uh, if none of us are playing, that'd be really great and...uh, stuff."
Liar! Liar! Liar! He wants to...Oh God, he's gonna kill me! I gotta turn, gotta run! Haruka slowly attempted to will herself into moving, but her legs were nothing more than jelly. Her knees knocked together uncontrollably and for a moment or two, she thought she was simply going to faint right there and then.
The boy, Duncan, held a sharpened stick in his hand. He was trying to lower it, make it look less threatening. The thought that his plea was genuine flashed in Haruka's mind, but her gut tied itself in a knot. She sensed danger, something horrible and violent was coming her way and she could do nothing but run and hide. Her grip on the oar was so tight she felt as if her fingers were going to snap under the pressure.
"Oh, uh...this. This is because I got a really, really bad weapon. We all did. So...uh, we ended up making these. They're not all that good..."
The oar wobbled pathetically, she was pretty sure that she appeared to be nothing more than a harmless baby in the eyes of Duncan, and whoever else was round the corner. What does he want with me? Why won't he leave me alone? Haruka steadied her grip on the oar, hoping that maybe she could swing it into his head if he came at her. She also had the idea that even with all her strength behind the swing, she'd do nothing more than bat the glasses off of his nose.
"...b-but if somebody attacked me, I'm sure I could fend them off with it. I-I'm not afraid to use it!"
Duncan McMahon was stuttering now, a sign of weakness. Haruka Watanabe knew all about that, she did it all the time. She tried to muster up courage, strength and even the slightest edge of violence, but the oar started shaking again. I can't win this battle! I couldn't win any battle! I can just run! I gotta go! She ground her teeth, digging her chin into her chest. Could sweat poured down the back of her neck, goosebumps running up and down her wrists.
"B-but you're not going to attack, right? Here, I'll just..."
Duncan had dropped the stick.
Now! He won't! He can't attack me now! I can...I can run! Haruka lifted her head, looking at Duncan in the eyes. She couldn't decide whether or not he was sincere, but she tried her best to look apologetic under the mask of grime and dust. I don't care about fresh air, I don't care about alliances, I just have to get away! She took slow baby steps backwards, her legs growing more and more steady.
She clenched her eyes shut and turned on her heel, and started running. Running away, just like I always do. Haruka thought, feeling uneasy. She geared up into a sprint and leant forwards into the movement. So what if she had just blown her first chance at getting out of the mines? At least she wasn't being impaled on a stake like some sort of vampire. She opened her eyes, scanning for dips and rocks that might cause her to fall over, but saw the dim silhouette of a girl instead.
Haruka let out an ear piercing scream as her legs gave way beneath her. The soles of her shoes skidded on the damp stone floor and her legs were taken from beneath her. She didn't spread out her arms, trying to pinwheel them for balance. She simply kept the oar clutched tightly to her chest and screwed her eyes shut. Her scream died into a faint squeak as she fell to the floor, sprawled onto her back. Haruka rolled onto her side, curling up into the fetal position, tears starting to stream down her grimy cheeks. "I d-don't wanna d-d-die!" she whispered.
I'm found out! I'm done for! I'm finished! I'm dead! Haruka quickly pulled back a couple of steps, her bangs fell across her shut eyes like a veil, her bottom lip quivering. Her routine defence mechanism took over again and she was frozen to the spot, obsolete.
Maybe he can't see me in the dark! Maybe this isn't actually happening! Maybe this is all a dream?!? Haruka slowly opened her eyes, and quickly shut them again with a light squeal. It's real! It's real! It's real!
"You're not playing are you? Because we're not playing, and...uh, if none of us are playing, that'd be really great and...uh, stuff."
Liar! Liar! Liar! He wants to...Oh God, he's gonna kill me! I gotta turn, gotta run! Haruka slowly attempted to will herself into moving, but her legs were nothing more than jelly. Her knees knocked together uncontrollably and for a moment or two, she thought she was simply going to faint right there and then.
The boy, Duncan, held a sharpened stick in his hand. He was trying to lower it, make it look less threatening. The thought that his plea was genuine flashed in Haruka's mind, but her gut tied itself in a knot. She sensed danger, something horrible and violent was coming her way and she could do nothing but run and hide. Her grip on the oar was so tight she felt as if her fingers were going to snap under the pressure.
"Oh, uh...this. This is because I got a really, really bad weapon. We all did. So...uh, we ended up making these. They're not all that good..."
The oar wobbled pathetically, she was pretty sure that she appeared to be nothing more than a harmless baby in the eyes of Duncan, and whoever else was round the corner. What does he want with me? Why won't he leave me alone? Haruka steadied her grip on the oar, hoping that maybe she could swing it into his head if he came at her. She also had the idea that even with all her strength behind the swing, she'd do nothing more than bat the glasses off of his nose.
"...b-but if somebody attacked me, I'm sure I could fend them off with it. I-I'm not afraid to use it!"
Duncan McMahon was stuttering now, a sign of weakness. Haruka Watanabe knew all about that, she did it all the time. She tried to muster up courage, strength and even the slightest edge of violence, but the oar started shaking again. I can't win this battle! I couldn't win any battle! I can just run! I gotta go! She ground her teeth, digging her chin into her chest. Could sweat poured down the back of her neck, goosebumps running up and down her wrists.
"B-but you're not going to attack, right? Here, I'll just..."
Duncan had dropped the stick.
Now! He won't! He can't attack me now! I can...I can run! Haruka lifted her head, looking at Duncan in the eyes. She couldn't decide whether or not he was sincere, but she tried her best to look apologetic under the mask of grime and dust. I don't care about fresh air, I don't care about alliances, I just have to get away! She took slow baby steps backwards, her legs growing more and more steady.
She clenched her eyes shut and turned on her heel, and started running. Running away, just like I always do. Haruka thought, feeling uneasy. She geared up into a sprint and leant forwards into the movement. So what if she had just blown her first chance at getting out of the mines? At least she wasn't being impaled on a stake like some sort of vampire. She opened her eyes, scanning for dips and rocks that might cause her to fall over, but saw the dim silhouette of a girl instead.
Haruka let out an ear piercing scream as her legs gave way beneath her. The soles of her shoes skidded on the damp stone floor and her legs were taken from beneath her. She didn't spread out her arms, trying to pinwheel them for balance. She simply kept the oar clutched tightly to her chest and screwed her eyes shut. Her scream died into a faint squeak as she fell to the floor, sprawled onto her back. Haruka rolled onto her side, curling up into the fetal position, tears starting to stream down her grimy cheeks. "I d-don't wanna d-d-die!" she whispered.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Shake&Bake. 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.
Frankie continued truidging through the cavern, trying to keep to what little light there was instead of venturing into the pitch-black parts. As far as Frankie knew, she didn't have a torch, or indeed fucking anything on her. All she had was her useless fucking phone and the bag on her back, which she wasn't even sure was hers.
Frankie stopped dead in her tracks. For a second, she swore she could hear something. A number of voices, quietly echoing off the stone walls. Frankie stopped, and the voices stopped too. Fuck, was she hearing things now? No, there were people close-by. Frankie tensed up as she started walking again. It got a lot harder to move in the darkness, expecting an attack at any movement, eyeing the side-passageways with each step for assailants lying in wait.
It was this over-cautiousness, however, that caused her to collide with a sprinting asian girl holding an oar. This, would normally warrant taking a step back and checking that, yes, she did just see that asian run forwards, clutching a fucking oar as a weapon, and yes, she was rushing straight at her, but Frankie didn't have the luxury of time to think as the two girls collided, sending both crashing to the floor, the asian girl shrieking like a banshee and almost knocking Frankie back into unconsciousness.
Frankie collided with the floor with a dull thud. God, that hurt. She was struggling to breathe. Her chest felt tight, the bitch had fucking winded her. Had the bitch just shoulder tackled her? What the fuck had she done to her to deserve that shit? Groaning, Frankie rolled over and began, for the second time today, attempting to push herself up.
"The fuck was that for?" Frankie barked at the girl, slowly making her way back up to her feet. "What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
And that was that. The bitch fucking curled up in a ball and turned on the waterworks. Frankie didn't fucking care. The asian was probably going to make it sound like it was Frankie's fault, like she didn't know where she was going, like she was the villain and the poor poor tiny asian girl only wanted to hide. Frankie wanted an answer, she wanted the bitch to explain herself. She wasn't particularly sure why, if she was honest. It wasn't really that much of a deal compared to the damage the asian could have done to her, but hey, wouldn't hurt to get the bitch to feel guilty about it.
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?" Frankie was close to grabbing the bitch and slapping her to get her out of wallowing in her self-pity, but she decided not to. It wouldn't be good to give anyone reason to believe it was her fault, and not the asian bitch's. "I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
Frankie stopped dead in her tracks. For a second, she swore she could hear something. A number of voices, quietly echoing off the stone walls. Frankie stopped, and the voices stopped too. Fuck, was she hearing things now? No, there were people close-by. Frankie tensed up as she started walking again. It got a lot harder to move in the darkness, expecting an attack at any movement, eyeing the side-passageways with each step for assailants lying in wait.
It was this over-cautiousness, however, that caused her to collide with a sprinting asian girl holding an oar. This, would normally warrant taking a step back and checking that, yes, she did just see that asian run forwards, clutching a fucking oar as a weapon, and yes, she was rushing straight at her, but Frankie didn't have the luxury of time to think as the two girls collided, sending both crashing to the floor, the asian girl shrieking like a banshee and almost knocking Frankie back into unconsciousness.
Frankie collided with the floor with a dull thud. God, that hurt. She was struggling to breathe. Her chest felt tight, the bitch had fucking winded her. Had the bitch just shoulder tackled her? What the fuck had she done to her to deserve that shit? Groaning, Frankie rolled over and began, for the second time today, attempting to push herself up.
"The fuck was that for?" Frankie barked at the girl, slowly making her way back up to her feet. "What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
And that was that. The bitch fucking curled up in a ball and turned on the waterworks. Frankie didn't fucking care. The asian was probably going to make it sound like it was Frankie's fault, like she didn't know where she was going, like she was the villain and the poor poor tiny asian girl only wanted to hide. Frankie wanted an answer, she wanted the bitch to explain herself. She wasn't particularly sure why, if she was honest. It wasn't really that much of a deal compared to the damage the asian could have done to her, but hey, wouldn't hurt to get the bitch to feel guilty about it.
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?" Frankie was close to grabbing the bitch and slapping her to get her out of wallowing in her self-pity, but she decided not to. It wouldn't be good to give anyone reason to believe it was her fault, and not the asian bitch's. "I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Badb.
-
storyspoiler†
- Posts: 152
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:16 am
(Liz Polanski continued from Hideaway)
Cyrille LaBlanche. That was her name. She was one of the few people Liz hadn't immediately taken a dim view of in school. And now she was dead.
Her bag was beside her. She looked inside it. Supplies, but no weapon. She took the roll of adhesive cloth tape out of the first aid kit and put bandages over the name. No more G062, Cyrille LaBlanche. It was Liz Polanski's bag now.
Leaning over the corpse, she took a penny and a quarter out of the last pocket of her cargo pants, licked them and laid them on Cyrille's eyes. It was pagan, but at least it was something.
Her plan had failed. All her decisions within the plan had been logical. She knew this. But she had failed to predict human nature. As usual. Apparently people didn't want to stay away from players. They wanted to kill them. So she would pretend to be something other than a player. She would make alliances. Like a real person. She would escape.
Make alliances. That required working with people. Unpredictable people.
Wouldn't that be fun.
She set to work on the net.
She worked by the light of the flashlight, tying knots into the parts she cut, sealing them over with adhesive tape, and testing. The net scraped a little now when it came out of the gun, but it was otherwise functional. Good.
She worked by the light of the flashlight, which was unwise, but she was in an alcove, tucked away and unshootable by any kind of ranged weapon. And anyone who saw the light and decided to close in on her would have to cross a sheet of gravel first. In that time, Liz could put her hands on the cosh and flip up the knife.
Her hands were blistered. The palms, not the fingertips, at least. The blisters were swelling up, filling with fluid. Her feet were in the same. She had peeled her boots off to let those sores get some air. The plastic inside the shoes had warped. She scratched at the inside until it was relatively smooth again. Cyrille had packed aqua-tinted aloe (for sunburns) and a pair of extra socks. Navy blue. Liz rubbed the aloe on her hands, her feet, her face, and put the socks on. Less pain.
She slipped on her shoes again. Slightly more pain. But it was alright. Standing up was a careful task. Time to look for relays in the mountain.
She taped a piece of gauze over the light to mute the glow, put her knife in her left hand, and stepped out of the alcove.
And that's when she heard the scream.
Haruka Watanabe. Quiet girl. Worked at animal shelters. Had just crashed into Frankie Fiamatta (stoner, soccer, crazy, dangerous), and they had both fallen to the floor. It was a miracle neither of them had noticed her.
She wanted to pull back into the alcove, but then Frankie started shouting.
"The fuck was that for?" Frankie barked at the girl. "What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
And now Liz was out of the alcove, knife out, shoulder blades raised.
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?" Frankie looked like she was going to hit Haruka. "I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
And Liz walked forward, and shoved Frankie Fiametta out of the way. There was no use bothering with words there. She knelt over Haruka, bent over her, really. Protective? I'm being protective?. The girl's face was streaked with tears, and she was whispering, frightened.
"I d-don't wanna d-d-die."
A stutter. Liz put the knife back into her shirt, and held her hands up, so Haruka could see them. No weapons. This seemed to calm the girl a little bit.
She lowered her hands enough to push the hair out of Haruka's face. "Hush, kid. Hey. Everything's gonna be alright." Lies, but maybe she could believe them. This kid seemed to need them.
"I've got a couple ideas for escape plans, but shhhhh, don't say it loud. I don't know how sensitive the cameras are here. We're gonna get out."
Cyrille LaBlanche. That was her name. She was one of the few people Liz hadn't immediately taken a dim view of in school. And now she was dead.
Her bag was beside her. She looked inside it. Supplies, but no weapon. She took the roll of adhesive cloth tape out of the first aid kit and put bandages over the name. No more G062, Cyrille LaBlanche. It was Liz Polanski's bag now.
Leaning over the corpse, she took a penny and a quarter out of the last pocket of her cargo pants, licked them and laid them on Cyrille's eyes. It was pagan, but at least it was something.
Her plan had failed. All her decisions within the plan had been logical. She knew this. But she had failed to predict human nature. As usual. Apparently people didn't want to stay away from players. They wanted to kill them. So she would pretend to be something other than a player. She would make alliances. Like a real person. She would escape.
Make alliances. That required working with people. Unpredictable people.
Wouldn't that be fun.
She set to work on the net.
She worked by the light of the flashlight, tying knots into the parts she cut, sealing them over with adhesive tape, and testing. The net scraped a little now when it came out of the gun, but it was otherwise functional. Good.
She worked by the light of the flashlight, which was unwise, but she was in an alcove, tucked away and unshootable by any kind of ranged weapon. And anyone who saw the light and decided to close in on her would have to cross a sheet of gravel first. In that time, Liz could put her hands on the cosh and flip up the knife.
Her hands were blistered. The palms, not the fingertips, at least. The blisters were swelling up, filling with fluid. Her feet were in the same. She had peeled her boots off to let those sores get some air. The plastic inside the shoes had warped. She scratched at the inside until it was relatively smooth again. Cyrille had packed aqua-tinted aloe (for sunburns) and a pair of extra socks. Navy blue. Liz rubbed the aloe on her hands, her feet, her face, and put the socks on. Less pain.
She slipped on her shoes again. Slightly more pain. But it was alright. Standing up was a careful task. Time to look for relays in the mountain.
She taped a piece of gauze over the light to mute the glow, put her knife in her left hand, and stepped out of the alcove.
And that's when she heard the scream.
Haruka Watanabe. Quiet girl. Worked at animal shelters. Had just crashed into Frankie Fiamatta (stoner, soccer, crazy, dangerous), and they had both fallen to the floor. It was a miracle neither of them had noticed her.
She wanted to pull back into the alcove, but then Frankie started shouting.
"The fuck was that for?" Frankie barked at the girl. "What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
And now Liz was out of the alcove, knife out, shoulder blades raised.
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?" Frankie looked like she was going to hit Haruka. "I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
And Liz walked forward, and shoved Frankie Fiametta out of the way. There was no use bothering with words there. She knelt over Haruka, bent over her, really. Protective? I'm being protective?. The girl's face was streaked with tears, and she was whispering, frightened.
"I d-don't wanna d-d-die."
A stutter. Liz put the knife back into her shirt, and held her hands up, so Haruka could see them. No weapons. This seemed to calm the girl a little bit.
She lowered her hands enough to push the hair out of Haruka's face. "Hush, kid. Hey. Everything's gonna be alright." Lies, but maybe she could believe them. This kid seemed to need them.
"I've got a couple ideas for escape plans, but shhhhh, don't say it loud. I don't know how sensitive the cameras are here. We're gonna get out."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler storyspoiler. 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.
-
Ruggahissy
- Posts: 1593
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:13 pm
((Permission to move Feo with Ethan granted))
The relaxed state of his body threatened to pull him back under the firm grip of sleep but the movement from Feo and the concentrated heat of her lips against his neck brought him back to alertness in a rush of senses. He closed his eyes and smiled.
This slut is trying to play me. She thinks she's gonna get in my head? Well I can go toe to toe.
He opened his eyes.
"Hey there. Did you sleep okay?"
Gingerly he got to his feet, his back and legs still bruised from hitting the table back at the saw mill. He rotated his left arm a little, trying to judge the range of its motion, feeling the gradually increasing pain as he contorted it further. He straightened up his glasses and looked around. They were alone. He assumed that Duncan had gone to check out that noise he had heard earlier.
Ethan picked up Feo's bandaged hand and held it up to the level of his face and kissed it.
"Lover boy ran off," his lips grazing against the skin and bandages as he spoke.
He ran his tongue over the spot he had just placed a chaste kiss. He could feel the texture change from skin to bandage, and then back to skin. The flavors of gauze, dried blood and her mingled together. Climbing up a little further past the knuckle he reached one finger and one absence of a finger. Briefly he found himself wondering how phantom limb syndrome might be factoring into all of this. His thoughts on the matter were interrupted when more loud shouting bounced off the walls.
"We'd better check that out."
He picked up his bag; a sharpened stick and the glow stick and cautiously went further into the tunnel. Up ahead the two of them saw Duncan standing and looking at something. Ethan held the glow stick up and looked at Duncan, then looked at the girls on the floor.
"Hey Duncan, what- uh, what's going on here?" he said, cocking his head at the mess.
Two strangers and.....a Fiametta?
"Nice oar."
The relaxed state of his body threatened to pull him back under the firm grip of sleep but the movement from Feo and the concentrated heat of her lips against his neck brought him back to alertness in a rush of senses. He closed his eyes and smiled.
This slut is trying to play me. She thinks she's gonna get in my head? Well I can go toe to toe.
He opened his eyes.
"Hey there. Did you sleep okay?"
Gingerly he got to his feet, his back and legs still bruised from hitting the table back at the saw mill. He rotated his left arm a little, trying to judge the range of its motion, feeling the gradually increasing pain as he contorted it further. He straightened up his glasses and looked around. They were alone. He assumed that Duncan had gone to check out that noise he had heard earlier.
Ethan picked up Feo's bandaged hand and held it up to the level of his face and kissed it.
"Lover boy ran off," his lips grazing against the skin and bandages as he spoke.
He ran his tongue over the spot he had just placed a chaste kiss. He could feel the texture change from skin to bandage, and then back to skin. The flavors of gauze, dried blood and her mingled together. Climbing up a little further past the knuckle he reached one finger and one absence of a finger. Briefly he found himself wondering how phantom limb syndrome might be factoring into all of this. His thoughts on the matter were interrupted when more loud shouting bounced off the walls.
"We'd better check that out."
He picked up his bag; a sharpened stick and the glow stick and cautiously went further into the tunnel. Up ahead the two of them saw Duncan standing and looking at something. Ethan held the glow stick up and looked at Duncan, then looked at the girls on the floor.
"Hey Duncan, what- uh, what's going on here?" he said, cocking his head at the mess.
Two strangers and.....a Fiametta?
"Nice oar."
-
Super Llama†
- Posts: 339
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:39 am
Oh great, and now you made her cry.
Duncan couldn't help but feel guilty as the girl fell down and assumed the fetal position. She was obviously scared out of her mind, and he had only made things worse with this threats.
"Uh, h-hey, it's okay." He said, stepping up and kneeling down beside her when he heard somebody else antagonizing her. One of the Fiamettas, right? He didn't really know anything about them, other than that they were triplets, but this one seemed like a bitch, with a capital...capital bitch.
"What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
Duncan really wished that she'd shut the hell up, she was only making things worse.
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?"
Seriously, just shut up.
"I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
"Look, will you just shut u-" Duncan began to snap at the Fiametta girl when she was suddenly shoved aside by yet another girl, clothes covered in all kinds of muddy crap and...wait a second, was that blood? Holy shit, this girl's clothes was covered in it, and there was this horrible smell coming from her. As a kid, he remembered spotting a dead possum on the side of the road, stomach torn open and this godawful smell coming from it. It made him sick to his stomach, and it gave him nightmares for weeks.
That's exactly what she smelled like. Fresh roadkill.
Hell, she was even holding a knife in her hand. If she didn't look like a textbook example of the kind of psycho killer Danya was probably looking for, he didn't know WHAT was. Duncan ALMOST scrambled the hell away, leaving the other girl on the ground to the psycho-looking girl's machinations, but he felt as if his legs were glued to the floor. He just couldn't abandon this girl, even if he couldn't really do a damn thing for her.
The psycho-looking girl kneeled down in front of them. Fuck, this was it. She was going to gut the two of them, wasn't she? Why the hell did he have to drop his stick? Out of desperation, Duncan readied himself to hurl a punch in the girl's direction when she...
Put the knife away.
...wait, what?
Duncan was taken completely by surprise as the psycho-looking girl leaned in and whispered something to the girl on the ground. He could pick up something about an escape plan. Wait, did she really have one? How did he know this wasn't some kind of trap, to lead them around until she was in a better position to off the three of them? Duncan wasn't ready to trust someone who looked and smelled like she just walked out of a slaughterhouse after rolling around in the goods.
"Hey, wait a minute, who the hell are you?" Duncan said, resting a hand against the prone girl's shoulder in the most reassuring way he could. He didn't know why, but like with Feo back at the sawmill, he felt this urge to make sure she was safe.
Duncan couldn't help but feel guilty as the girl fell down and assumed the fetal position. She was obviously scared out of her mind, and he had only made things worse with this threats.
"Uh, h-hey, it's okay." He said, stepping up and kneeling down beside her when he heard somebody else antagonizing her. One of the Fiamettas, right? He didn't really know anything about them, other than that they were triplets, but this one seemed like a bitch, with a capital...capital bitch.
"What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
Duncan really wished that she'd shut the hell up, she was only making things worse.
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?"
Seriously, just shut up.
"I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
"Look, will you just shut u-" Duncan began to snap at the Fiametta girl when she was suddenly shoved aside by yet another girl, clothes covered in all kinds of muddy crap and...wait a second, was that blood? Holy shit, this girl's clothes was covered in it, and there was this horrible smell coming from her. As a kid, he remembered spotting a dead possum on the side of the road, stomach torn open and this godawful smell coming from it. It made him sick to his stomach, and it gave him nightmares for weeks.
That's exactly what she smelled like. Fresh roadkill.
Hell, she was even holding a knife in her hand. If she didn't look like a textbook example of the kind of psycho killer Danya was probably looking for, he didn't know WHAT was. Duncan ALMOST scrambled the hell away, leaving the other girl on the ground to the psycho-looking girl's machinations, but he felt as if his legs were glued to the floor. He just couldn't abandon this girl, even if he couldn't really do a damn thing for her.
The psycho-looking girl kneeled down in front of them. Fuck, this was it. She was going to gut the two of them, wasn't she? Why the hell did he have to drop his stick? Out of desperation, Duncan readied himself to hurl a punch in the girl's direction when she...
Put the knife away.
...wait, what?
Duncan was taken completely by surprise as the psycho-looking girl leaned in and whispered something to the girl on the ground. He could pick up something about an escape plan. Wait, did she really have one? How did he know this wasn't some kind of trap, to lead them around until she was in a better position to off the three of them? Duncan wasn't ready to trust someone who looked and smelled like she just walked out of a slaughterhouse after rolling around in the goods.
"Hey, wait a minute, who the hell are you?" Duncan said, resting a hand against the prone girl's shoulder in the most reassuring way he could. He didn't know why, but like with Feo back at the sawmill, he felt this urge to make sure she was safe.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Super Llama.
-
Shake&Bake†
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:13 pm
(I wasn't sure who's turn it was to post, but I thought it was mine and Dom said I should post anyway...So sorry if I ruin the order OH and sorry about the longish paragraphs, I couldn't trim them down :/)
Laying curled on her side, Haruka trembled with fear. Her knees were drawn inwards and she hugged her torso tightly, by some small wonder the oar was still in her grasp, so whoever she ran into hadn't managed to beat her to death with it yet. She slowly put one hand out, flattening her palm against the damp cave floor. Haruka had wanted so see scenery, and if she was to die underground, she may as well try to appreciate something.
The sheer size of the network of tunnels under the mountain, as if she had crawled into a wheel of Swiss cheese. The mystery of where one tunnel may lead, and where others wouldn't. The incredibility that men had built this, and yet it seemed like burrows of some giant, beastly mole. The incredible strength of echoes carried through the dark. The strange formations of stalagmites and stalactites. The mysterious glimmer of gemstones and transparent rocks, lodged in the wall.
Haruka Watanabe may have been nearing the end of her short life, but as her mind escaped from the confines of that particular tunnel, she seemed to be at ease, if not for only a moment.
"The fuck was that for?"
Whatever haven of calm and safety Haruka's mind, she was suddenly torn away from. The cold, bitter taste of reality oozed over her tongue in the form of the saliva and grime from the caves. She froze again, too scared to even spit the awful mixture out of her mouth. Haruka drew her hand back to her chest with a snap, skinning her knuckle on the stone floor. She winced, shutting her eyes and starting to tremble again.
"Uh, h-hey, it's okay."
"What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
"Hey Duncan, what- uh, what's going on here?"
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?"
"Nice oar."
"I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
"Look, will you just shut u-"
A cacophony of voices. Angry screeching. Shaky sympathy. A curious drawl. More angry screeching. More angry screeching. Oh please let it stop! Just...Swallow me into the ground now! Please! I don't want to be here anymore! She peered over her shoulder, wide eyed looking at those crowding around her. Her breathing was hoarse and haggard, her legs were twitching, trying to gear up into a run but she was frozen on the floor.
Duncan...He seemed to be trying to control things, snapping back at her aggressor. He had seemed so threatening earlier, but maybe she was just a bag of nerves. He had a sharp stick, and whilst not particularly lethal, he could have skewered her with it at any time, but he hadn't. And I ran...I'm so ungrateful! Even though he still seemed to be a threat, he was the one she was least afraid of.
Approaching from behind him was a boy and a girl. Feo and...Who is that? Feo had been given a drastic SOTF makeover. Her long, flowing hair had been cut short and there was a bloody bandage around the stump of her hand. But where are the fingers? She was possibly less of a threat than Duncan, but she seemed cold and hardened. She didn't want to think that Feo Eleri Smith was capable of murder, but she must have been through something violent to wind up looking the way she did now.
The boy however...He looks so...so...sinister. She soon placed the name to the face and realised he was Ethan, his surname however, was a mystery to her as she wasn't in any of his classes. She knew it was stupid not to know the people she had been attending Bayview with for the past four years, but in all honesty she had never gotten involved. The only surnames she knew where of those in her classes, the popular kids and of course, the juvenile delinquents. Everyone else, and she felt bad thinking of it that way, were simply moving scenery. But Ethan, something about him made her feel like she just had to turn on her heels and run.
And now, her aggressor. The one spouting the angry screeches and curse words. The one she had ran into by accident. The one who could have been sneaking up on her. A...A Fiametta? F-Frances Fiametta? She didn't know much except that the girl was substance abuser and right now, seemed more than threatening. An antagonist? She wasn't sure, but Frances Fiametta really didn't seemed particularly bothered with how she portrayed herself. She was unarmed, but Haruka really didn't fancy her chances in a fight with her, with any of them.
And then there was a horrible smell. It took Haruka back to before SOTF, when she volunteered at animal pounds and the vet surgery. She remembered with distinct horror of how an error had been made, when stitching up a Siberian husky. The surgeon had ran out of the double strength thread made for large animals, so he doubled up on the thread used for smaller animals.
The husky was returned to its kennel for when the owner returned, but on the way there its stitches opened and...Haruka felt sick just thinking about it, but she had never been near such a large amount of blood. When people have nosebleeds or cut their knees, you don't really smell anything. If you're really squeamish, then the mere sight of it rattles you, but a lot of blood had came out of the dogs belly.
The weird yet sickening smell, like a mixture of copper and death, had met her nose and she lost her lunch right there and then. The dog went into shock and died and the surgery got sued, nobody in the neighbourhood wanted to send their injured animal to the place where "That dog split open like a hotdog bun" and eventually, the vet closed down and was turned into a Wendy's.
She opened her eyes again, looking into the dark face of what she could only describe as a moving corpse. In the darkness, the shadows were cast dramatically over the girls face, with slivers of the pale green glow. That and the mud and the blood made her look like she was wearing some pagan death mask. Stringy hair, pallid skin. The mud caked into her dark clothes, the stench of coppery death being radiated from her like it was the torn underside of the husky. A blistered hand brushed by Haruka's face, sending a shiver down her spine. It brushed the hair out of her eyes, in an almost motherly way. The whole thing was too much, Haruka's breathing went up, her heart felt like it was going to explode.
"Hush, kid. Hey. Everything's gonna be alright."
Lies. She wants to kill me! I can see the knife! It's sticking out right there! Wants to lure me away...Wants to kill me! Haruka may have been a timid, nervous wreck, but she certainly wasn't an idiot. The blood, the mud, the blisters, the knife...This girl, whoever she was under the death mask, was trouble. Sure if the girl wanted to kill Haruka, she could have done it already, but then she'd have to deal with the other four. Even with a knife, that was an uphill battle.
"I've got a couple ideas for escape plans, but shhhhh, don't say it loud. I don't know how sensitive the cameras are here. We're gonna get out."
The eyes of the girl seemed to be boring into Haruka's like drills. Maybe she was attempting to be Mama Bear, but all Haruka saw was a grotesque beast that wanted to slash her to bits. Her hands slowly guided her backwards across the floor. She had always been the one avoiding attention in Bayview, and now the spotlight was shining on her. Five people, all of whom had the capability of killing her, were awaiting her next move.
She didn't care about the oar, it fell to the floor with a loud clatter. She shot upwards, falling into the wall of the tunnel then turned on her heel, running towards Duncan. Right now, he seemed like the only person she could trust, if only slightly.
She skidded across the floor and scrambled behind him, crouching down. She put her hands against his back, using him like some sort of shield to hide behind. She was too terrified to tilt her head and look at the girl again, or the Fiametta.
Too afraid to turn around and look at Feo and Ethan.
Everything was coming together now, all the violence and terror she had missed out on in the heart of the tunnels was rushing to meet her.
Laying curled on her side, Haruka trembled with fear. Her knees were drawn inwards and she hugged her torso tightly, by some small wonder the oar was still in her grasp, so whoever she ran into hadn't managed to beat her to death with it yet. She slowly put one hand out, flattening her palm against the damp cave floor. Haruka had wanted so see scenery, and if she was to die underground, she may as well try to appreciate something.
The sheer size of the network of tunnels under the mountain, as if she had crawled into a wheel of Swiss cheese. The mystery of where one tunnel may lead, and where others wouldn't. The incredibility that men had built this, and yet it seemed like burrows of some giant, beastly mole. The incredible strength of echoes carried through the dark. The strange formations of stalagmites and stalactites. The mysterious glimmer of gemstones and transparent rocks, lodged in the wall.
Haruka Watanabe may have been nearing the end of her short life, but as her mind escaped from the confines of that particular tunnel, she seemed to be at ease, if not for only a moment.
"The fuck was that for?"
Whatever haven of calm and safety Haruka's mind, she was suddenly torn away from. The cold, bitter taste of reality oozed over her tongue in the form of the saliva and grime from the caves. She froze again, too scared to even spit the awful mixture out of her mouth. Haruka drew her hand back to her chest with a snap, skinning her knuckle on the stone floor. She winced, shutting her eyes and starting to tremble again.
"Uh, h-hey, it's okay."
"What the fuck did I do to you, you stupid cunt?!"
"Hey Duncan, what- uh, what's going on here?"
"Hey, are you even fucking listening to me?"
"Nice oar."
"I'm fucking talking to you, listen to me!"
"Look, will you just shut u-"
A cacophony of voices. Angry screeching. Shaky sympathy. A curious drawl. More angry screeching. More angry screeching. Oh please let it stop! Just...Swallow me into the ground now! Please! I don't want to be here anymore! She peered over her shoulder, wide eyed looking at those crowding around her. Her breathing was hoarse and haggard, her legs were twitching, trying to gear up into a run but she was frozen on the floor.
Duncan...He seemed to be trying to control things, snapping back at her aggressor. He had seemed so threatening earlier, but maybe she was just a bag of nerves. He had a sharp stick, and whilst not particularly lethal, he could have skewered her with it at any time, but he hadn't. And I ran...I'm so ungrateful! Even though he still seemed to be a threat, he was the one she was least afraid of.
Approaching from behind him was a boy and a girl. Feo and...Who is that? Feo had been given a drastic SOTF makeover. Her long, flowing hair had been cut short and there was a bloody bandage around the stump of her hand. But where are the fingers? She was possibly less of a threat than Duncan, but she seemed cold and hardened. She didn't want to think that Feo Eleri Smith was capable of murder, but she must have been through something violent to wind up looking the way she did now.
The boy however...He looks so...so...sinister. She soon placed the name to the face and realised he was Ethan, his surname however, was a mystery to her as she wasn't in any of his classes. She knew it was stupid not to know the people she had been attending Bayview with for the past four years, but in all honesty she had never gotten involved. The only surnames she knew where of those in her classes, the popular kids and of course, the juvenile delinquents. Everyone else, and she felt bad thinking of it that way, were simply moving scenery. But Ethan, something about him made her feel like she just had to turn on her heels and run.
And now, her aggressor. The one spouting the angry screeches and curse words. The one she had ran into by accident. The one who could have been sneaking up on her. A...A Fiametta? F-Frances Fiametta? She didn't know much except that the girl was substance abuser and right now, seemed more than threatening. An antagonist? She wasn't sure, but Frances Fiametta really didn't seemed particularly bothered with how she portrayed herself. She was unarmed, but Haruka really didn't fancy her chances in a fight with her, with any of them.
And then there was a horrible smell. It took Haruka back to before SOTF, when she volunteered at animal pounds and the vet surgery. She remembered with distinct horror of how an error had been made, when stitching up a Siberian husky. The surgeon had ran out of the double strength thread made for large animals, so he doubled up on the thread used for smaller animals.
The husky was returned to its kennel for when the owner returned, but on the way there its stitches opened and...Haruka felt sick just thinking about it, but she had never been near such a large amount of blood. When people have nosebleeds or cut their knees, you don't really smell anything. If you're really squeamish, then the mere sight of it rattles you, but a lot of blood had came out of the dogs belly.
The weird yet sickening smell, like a mixture of copper and death, had met her nose and she lost her lunch right there and then. The dog went into shock and died and the surgery got sued, nobody in the neighbourhood wanted to send their injured animal to the place where "That dog split open like a hotdog bun" and eventually, the vet closed down and was turned into a Wendy's.
She opened her eyes again, looking into the dark face of what she could only describe as a moving corpse. In the darkness, the shadows were cast dramatically over the girls face, with slivers of the pale green glow. That and the mud and the blood made her look like she was wearing some pagan death mask. Stringy hair, pallid skin. The mud caked into her dark clothes, the stench of coppery death being radiated from her like it was the torn underside of the husky. A blistered hand brushed by Haruka's face, sending a shiver down her spine. It brushed the hair out of her eyes, in an almost motherly way. The whole thing was too much, Haruka's breathing went up, her heart felt like it was going to explode.
"Hush, kid. Hey. Everything's gonna be alright."
Lies. She wants to kill me! I can see the knife! It's sticking out right there! Wants to lure me away...Wants to kill me! Haruka may have been a timid, nervous wreck, but she certainly wasn't an idiot. The blood, the mud, the blisters, the knife...This girl, whoever she was under the death mask, was trouble. Sure if the girl wanted to kill Haruka, she could have done it already, but then she'd have to deal with the other four. Even with a knife, that was an uphill battle.
"I've got a couple ideas for escape plans, but shhhhh, don't say it loud. I don't know how sensitive the cameras are here. We're gonna get out."
The eyes of the girl seemed to be boring into Haruka's like drills. Maybe she was attempting to be Mama Bear, but all Haruka saw was a grotesque beast that wanted to slash her to bits. Her hands slowly guided her backwards across the floor. She had always been the one avoiding attention in Bayview, and now the spotlight was shining on her. Five people, all of whom had the capability of killing her, were awaiting her next move.
She didn't care about the oar, it fell to the floor with a loud clatter. She shot upwards, falling into the wall of the tunnel then turned on her heel, running towards Duncan. Right now, he seemed like the only person she could trust, if only slightly.
She skidded across the floor and scrambled behind him, crouching down. She put her hands against his back, using him like some sort of shield to hide behind. She was too terrified to tilt her head and look at the girl again, or the Fiametta.
Too afraid to turn around and look at Feo and Ethan.
Everything was coming together now, all the violence and terror she had missed out on in the heart of the tunnels was rushing to meet her.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Shake&Bake. 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.
-
Sunnybunny
- Posts: 384
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
Okay, so . . . three new bitches. There was a bitch covered in blood (which begged the question, who's?), a bitch having a nervous breakdown, and a bitch named Frankie. Get back to her later.
Ethan was extremely kinky and Feo loved it. But she'd get back to that later too. Right now she was focused on the crier. It was irritating seeing this bitch cry just because she was afraid. She had gotten blown up, actually fucking blasted with dynamite. Her arms were still aching, and she wanted to cry. And this useless, waste of space, scaredy cat hoe was crying?
Feo's right hand was twitching. Doctors would call it phantom limb syndrome. But Feo knew the truth.
She wanted to slap the shit out of this girl.
She picked up the oar. Much more useful than a sharpened stick, that was for damn sure. She was right handed, but swinging an oar with her left wouldn't be impossible.
She turned to the bloody one, who looked like post-prom Carrie. "What did you do? Whatever it was, don't try that shit with me." Normally Feo would have been afraid of this obv psycho, but apparently she was too annoyed to be afraid. Or brain damage, whatever.
Wait, Frankie. Right. Frankie was cool was hell, and meaner than the devil. It was good to see her though. She seemed sober. Feo hadn't seen Frankie sober outside of a game since . . . since . . . yeah, it had been that long. She guessed Frankie had made the baby cry.
"Frankie, what's up? I would ask how you are, but since we're all fucked I won't bother." Feo smiled, an actual one. "Welcome to this hellhole."
"And you, behind Duncan. Stop crying, you're embarrasing youself. And by the way, this oar is mine now." It was cruel, but hell, this was survival of the fittest, not the kindest. If she was dumb enough to drop a perfectly good weapon, she deserved to have it taken.
Ethan was extremely kinky and Feo loved it. But she'd get back to that later too. Right now she was focused on the crier. It was irritating seeing this bitch cry just because she was afraid. She had gotten blown up, actually fucking blasted with dynamite. Her arms were still aching, and she wanted to cry. And this useless, waste of space, scaredy cat hoe was crying?
Feo's right hand was twitching. Doctors would call it phantom limb syndrome. But Feo knew the truth.
She wanted to slap the shit out of this girl.
She picked up the oar. Much more useful than a sharpened stick, that was for damn sure. She was right handed, but swinging an oar with her left wouldn't be impossible.
She turned to the bloody one, who looked like post-prom Carrie. "What did you do? Whatever it was, don't try that shit with me." Normally Feo would have been afraid of this obv psycho, but apparently she was too annoyed to be afraid. Or brain damage, whatever.
Wait, Frankie. Right. Frankie was cool was hell, and meaner than the devil. It was good to see her though. She seemed sober. Feo hadn't seen Frankie sober outside of a game since . . . since . . . yeah, it had been that long. She guessed Frankie had made the baby cry.
"Frankie, what's up? I would ask how you are, but since we're all fucked I won't bother." Feo smiled, an actual one. "Welcome to this hellhole."
"And you, behind Duncan. Stop crying, you're embarrasing youself. And by the way, this oar is mine now." It was cruel, but hell, this was survival of the fittest, not the kindest. If she was dumb enough to drop a perfectly good weapon, she deserved to have it taken.
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses