It all seemed so distant now. So foreign. The events of the previous hours all ran together in a thick haze, like a fog that had overtaken her mind. The gunshots, the screaming... she had been sitting by the window when the brains and bone matter of their teacher, or more correctly, the corpse of their former teacher, Mr. Dolph, had fallen to the ground with a sick, wet thud. That moment in time stuck out with distinct clarity in the mind of Whitney Acosta.
From then on, it became a haze. Gunshots, screams, men in black suits... that woman. They were like cattle. That's all the students of Franklyn Senior High School were to these people. She remembered being forced off the bus at gunpoint along with the remainder of her classmates. She remembered being herded into a circle, her panicked eyes having momentarily interlocked with classmates Matthias Kovalenko and Vesa Turunen.
She remembered the dark gray bus that had rolled up from seemingly out of nowhere... and then everything began to get hazey again. There was the room... the room where they were shown the clip of that girl more or less decapitating another student with an axe. She hadn't been able to move, much less speak, when the dark-headed woman told them their fate. She'd sat, frozen in suspension, and her blood had run cold as the woman uttered those fateful words...
Survival of the Fittest.
It was like a bad game show. Like Elimidate, except for the fact that when someone was eliminated, they were actually slaughtered in cold blood. The "winner" got a one-on-one encounter with Mr. Danya... or something like that. Whitney didn't know. She couldn't think that far ahead. In fact, she could only think of the few hours prior, the scenes replaying time and time again in her mind.
This isn't real. This isn't happening. It's not, it's not, it's not. Wake up, Whit. WAKE UP!
She kept telling herself it was a bad dream. Maybe if she just willed it away... but she couldn't will it away. This was real. This was happening. No matter how much Whitney Acosta (Girl Number 23) denied it, this was Survival of the Fittest, and she was now a participant in what was easily the most dangerous competition in the entire world. The basic premise was simple: kill or be killed.
Whitney Acosta wasn't willing to do either. She wouldn't buy into this game. Never. She tried and tried to reassure herself of that fact -- the fact that she was a strong-willed individual with the ability to overcome the horrors of this game -- but her reassurance fell on deaf ears. Paranoia hadn't quite set in yet, but the surreal feeling of it all consumed her as she sat up from her prone position within the stalks of wheat. Nearby, a green bag with "G23 - Acosta" enscribed on it caught her eye.
Continuing to stay down in the wheat, Whitney reached over to it. A few feet away, she spotted the clunky-looking shield that she could only surmise must have been her designated weapon. Fate certainly hadn't been kind to her. That shield had about as much chance of protecting her from the weapons that had been released onto the island as that pack itself did. Despite it, she reached over and picked it up, knowing better than to leave it in the field.
Part of her wanted to crawl up in a fetal position and cry. Part of her wanted to run... to hide. Still yet, Whitney felt as though her legs were made of jello. Attempting to rise to her feet, she felt wobbly and disoriented. As she rose to a shakey stand, she glanced out into the sprawling wheat field. Yellow stocks rose for as far as the eye could see. In the distance, though, something disrupted the rows of wheat stalks.
Whitney squinted slightly in an attempt to identify the object sticking out from the wheat stalks. Snatching up both the shield and her daypack and holding the shield in a defensive stance, Whitney tentatively pushed closer, very slowly. A slight gasp escaped her lips as she realized, much to her horror, that the figure standing in the wheat field alongside her was another person.
Meanwhile, Tanesha Lexx, formerly known as the black figure in the distance, was also staring at the blonde barbie doll across the field from her in disbelief. It wasn't so much disbelief at the fact that her rotten luck had already forced her into an encounter with another student -- Tanesha had seen that one coming a mile away. Rather, it was the fact that she didn't recognize Malibu Barbie, and that fact disturbed Tanesha even more than the encounter itself.
Tanesha hadn't started too far off, unsurprisingly. She had been thrown into the wheat field as well -- in fact, there was probably an indentation in the rows of wheat from where her rather large form had been disposed of. Much to her amusement, she had discovered that her designated weapon, or rather, weapons, were grenades. The manual had told her that they were flashbang grenades, thus were only capable of stunning her enemies.
Of course, her enemies, being high school students, probably didn't know that.
As Barbie pushed closer to her, Tanesha instinctively started heading toward the blonde as well. Her dark knuckles turned white by the sheer force with which she held the flashbang grenade she'd removed from her daypack. After all, Barbie might turn out to be psycho. Tanesha lurked closer, fully intending to use the flashbang if need be to ensure her escape. This girl had lucked out in that Tanesha didn't know her, that much was for certain. She hadn't decided for sure if she was playing or not, but Tanesha had revenge on her mind.
Had Whitney known she wasn't on the "Revenge List", she would've been grateful. Instead, she simply eyed the black girl who had come within speaking distance of her over nervously. She could barely make out something clutched in the girl's hand, and it made her all the more nervous. Whitney instinctively circled to the right. Tanesha, meanwhile, went left, her features forming a rather curious expression.
"Where are you from?" Tanesha prodded.
"Franklyn," Whitney responded quietly, "You?"
"Bathurst," Tanesha muttered.
The two girls halted, each eyeing one another suspiciously. Neither seemed willing to mix it up, and instead seemed eager to leave the scene. Truth be told, both girls were relieved that the other didn't seem to be looking for a fight -- neither were up for it. Tanesha nodded to Whitney, and Whitney returned the signal.
"Good luck out there," Whitney once again whispered.
Almost immediately, both girls dashed off in separate directions in a full-on sprint. Whitney felt the wheat stalks whipping at her entire body as she dashed through the field. They slapped her face, her arms, her legs, stinging every part of her body as she ran... but she didn't care, she just ran faster. Tanesha, too, bolted from the scene, her heavy breathing obvious even from a distance as she forced herself into a run.
Finally reaching the clear expanse of wheatfield and scanning the horizon carefully, hoping that no one else would be around, Whitney stopped running and gasped lightly in an attempt to catch her breath. This really was happening, and the worst part was that apparently, Franklyn wasn't the only school in on it. That girl said she was from Bathurst... did that mean...? Fighting back the tears that threatened to form in her eyes from the sheer stress of the situation, Whitney simply stood in the field trying to regain her breath.
Memories and Revelations
Start Game - G23
Memories and Revelations
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
"Don't leave me Mattie!"
"I told you, just go away! Leave me alone!"
"I'm sorry, Mattie! I won't bother you guys again. I'll be good, just don't leave me here..."
"Isn't that what you said last time? Look what happened! Why do you have to be such a whining brat?"
"But...I didn't mean to do anything....Please, big brother."
"...Just go. You're old enough. You want to go to the gift shops? Go there by yourself. Go on without me."
"But, Mom said I had to stay with you..."
"I don't care! Just get out of my life!"
----------------------------------
"Jodeen! Jodeen? Are you out here? Where are you?"
Matthias Kovalenko was in a state of panic and desperation. It had been little more than fifteen minutes since he had awoken to find himself alone near a field of wheat, his mind fresh with the memories of the ill-fated turn of events that had occurred right before he, along with the rest of his fellow classmates had been knocked out. It ran like a replay through his mind... first the stopping of the bus, then the sight of Mr. Dolph and Mr. Duana both killed more suddenly than Matthias could ever comprehend. The sound of gunshots were still fresh and ringing in his ears as he automatically moved to cover Jodeen's eyes and move protectively towards her...
...Only to find himself being forcefully separated from her as the students themselves were herded out of the bus. Fear of getting either himself or Jodeen killed was the only thing that kept him from charging to her side there and then, and he hated himself for it. While he caught glances with faces familiar and stranger....Whitney Acosta, Vesa Turunen, Ricky Callahan, and even Eric Silvstedt....all that he could think about was the sister he promised never to abandon ever again.
It had been then in that waking moment that he had realized of the fate that had befallen the students of Franklyn High...that all of them had now become part of the desperate game of survival that had been made infamous throughout the world.
Kill or be killed. Only one survives. Only one will be granted the chance to return to the life they once knew. Those were the rules. And Matthias...Whitney, Jodeen....everyone. All of them were now players of a fresh, new round in this nightmarish game.
Blood would be spilt. Lives would be taken, innocence broken. The gruesome footage that had left him stunned to complete silence was enough to confirm that.
And all Matthias could think about right now, and right here, as he made his way through the wheatfields looking left and right of himself, was to do anything in his power to ensure that none of it would happen to Jodeen.
His head turned this way and that. Troubled dark eyes searched every corner, every space, every inch of the environment around him, simply hoping for any sign of the person he swore that he would protect with every inch of his being since the event four years ago. Desperate, and quickly losing hope, he struggled to calm down, stopping for a moment to regain his sense of position, not to mention his sense of clear and coherent thought.
Damn it, Matthias... he thought, frustrated and angry with himself. You promised yourself you wouldn't let anything happen to her. And what good are you doing now, running around in circles, calling out blindly? What good will it do to Jodeen getting yourself killed?
As always, it was his rational, reasonable side that came to the aid of Matthias. Letting the rapid pace of his breathing ease to a more comfortable rhythm, he looked around, thinking quickly.
Either way, I need to find her as soon as possible... but honestly, it would do me a hell of a lot of good to be more careful. I'm surprised with the way I've been running around screeching my lungs out that I haven't run into a single soul since I-
"Ah, hell."
The muttered curse came just as Matthias caught the sight of a lone figure standing solitary among the fronds of wheat, not too far off. Matthias backed off slightly, at the same time keeping his eyes on the figure, struggling to discern the identity of the stranger.
Recognizing both form and face of the young blonde, Matthias sighed with relief.
What wouldn't I do for a friendly looking face right about now...
"Whitney..." he called out, keeping his distance as to not startle her with any sudden movements. He hesitated, knowing of the situation both of them were in. They were meant to kill eachother, here, on this island. Would their familiarity towards one another be strong enough to overcome that notion?
"Look...I'm not playing. I promise. Just say it now if you don't trust me but..."
He swallowed hard, before continuing in a quiet, yet serious and firm voice.
"I'm not going to kill anybody."
"I told you, just go away! Leave me alone!"
"I'm sorry, Mattie! I won't bother you guys again. I'll be good, just don't leave me here..."
"Isn't that what you said last time? Look what happened! Why do you have to be such a whining brat?"
"But...I didn't mean to do anything....Please, big brother."
"...Just go. You're old enough. You want to go to the gift shops? Go there by yourself. Go on without me."
"But, Mom said I had to stay with you..."
"I don't care! Just get out of my life!"
----------------------------------
"Jodeen! Jodeen? Are you out here? Where are you?"
Matthias Kovalenko was in a state of panic and desperation. It had been little more than fifteen minutes since he had awoken to find himself alone near a field of wheat, his mind fresh with the memories of the ill-fated turn of events that had occurred right before he, along with the rest of his fellow classmates had been knocked out. It ran like a replay through his mind... first the stopping of the bus, then the sight of Mr. Dolph and Mr. Duana both killed more suddenly than Matthias could ever comprehend. The sound of gunshots were still fresh and ringing in his ears as he automatically moved to cover Jodeen's eyes and move protectively towards her...
...Only to find himself being forcefully separated from her as the students themselves were herded out of the bus. Fear of getting either himself or Jodeen killed was the only thing that kept him from charging to her side there and then, and he hated himself for it. While he caught glances with faces familiar and stranger....Whitney Acosta, Vesa Turunen, Ricky Callahan, and even Eric Silvstedt....all that he could think about was the sister he promised never to abandon ever again.
It had been then in that waking moment that he had realized of the fate that had befallen the students of Franklyn High...that all of them had now become part of the desperate game of survival that had been made infamous throughout the world.
Kill or be killed. Only one survives. Only one will be granted the chance to return to the life they once knew. Those were the rules. And Matthias...Whitney, Jodeen....everyone. All of them were now players of a fresh, new round in this nightmarish game.
Blood would be spilt. Lives would be taken, innocence broken. The gruesome footage that had left him stunned to complete silence was enough to confirm that.
And all Matthias could think about right now, and right here, as he made his way through the wheatfields looking left and right of himself, was to do anything in his power to ensure that none of it would happen to Jodeen.
His head turned this way and that. Troubled dark eyes searched every corner, every space, every inch of the environment around him, simply hoping for any sign of the person he swore that he would protect with every inch of his being since the event four years ago. Desperate, and quickly losing hope, he struggled to calm down, stopping for a moment to regain his sense of position, not to mention his sense of clear and coherent thought.
Damn it, Matthias... he thought, frustrated and angry with himself. You promised yourself you wouldn't let anything happen to her. And what good are you doing now, running around in circles, calling out blindly? What good will it do to Jodeen getting yourself killed?
As always, it was his rational, reasonable side that came to the aid of Matthias. Letting the rapid pace of his breathing ease to a more comfortable rhythm, he looked around, thinking quickly.
Either way, I need to find her as soon as possible... but honestly, it would do me a hell of a lot of good to be more careful. I'm surprised with the way I've been running around screeching my lungs out that I haven't run into a single soul since I-
"Ah, hell."
The muttered curse came just as Matthias caught the sight of a lone figure standing solitary among the fronds of wheat, not too far off. Matthias backed off slightly, at the same time keeping his eyes on the figure, struggling to discern the identity of the stranger.
Recognizing both form and face of the young blonde, Matthias sighed with relief.
What wouldn't I do for a friendly looking face right about now...
"Whitney..." he called out, keeping his distance as to not startle her with any sudden movements. He hesitated, knowing of the situation both of them were in. They were meant to kill eachother, here, on this island. Would their familiarity towards one another be strong enough to overcome that notion?
"Look...I'm not playing. I promise. Just say it now if you don't trust me but..."
He swallowed hard, before continuing in a quiet, yet serious and firm voice.
"I'm not going to kill anybody."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
Familiarity.
Although Webster lists six definitions for the word, only a select few apply to the events and relationships found within Survival of the Fittest. Familiarity is, simply put, thorough knowledge of someone -- through acquaintance or other methods. Familiarity is something that contestants in SOTF often long for... a familiar face to help them through the trials and tribulations of the game.
For Whitney Acosta, familiarity came quite early.
The masculine voice that echoed out from behind her caused the blonde to spin around in a startled manner. A relieved sigh escaped her lips no sooner than she turned around, however, for the figure who had approached her in the wheat field was someone extremely familiar to her.
Matthias.
Unlike the encounter between herself and the African-American girl from Bathurst only moments before, Matthias's appearance was an almost welcome surprise. Truth be told, Whitney had only given him and the remainder of her friends half a thought since waking up in this foresaken place. She had been so concerned with her own survival that thoughts of the people who were close to her had all but ceased.
She hadn't thought about Lexie or Heba or Jennifer or any of the other girls who could've, should've, might've been on the bus along with her. She hadn't given Matthias or Jodeen a second thought. She hadn't even thought about Ricky Callahan or even her next-door neighbors, the Valero twins. Through her short time since awakening on the island, Whitney had only thought about numero uno.
"Matthias..."
Her features softened momentarily, but then a thought struck her. A terrible thought, a thought that should never have run through her mind. This was a dog-eat-dog competition from which only one winner would emerge. Back home, Matthias was someone she would have easily trusted. Here and now, when only hours before she had been instructed to kill until no one else was left standing, could she trust him?
Trust.
Trust was a quality quickly forgotten in a competition such as this. Adrenaline took over, fear and paranoia set in, and the next thing you knew, you were trying to slaughter the person who had been your best friend and confidante only seconds before. Whitney's parents had basically outlawed last year's competition from the Acosta household, but they were never home, and Whitney had seen tidbits of the last game.
Fear took over. People who had been allies, friends, even lovers prior turned their weapons against one another and slaughtered their companions. In Survival of the Fittest, in a competition where only one person could win, that was an inevitability. Alliances were fragile, trust was easily broken... Matt's words slowly wiped the thoughts from her mind.
He's not playing. He wouldn't play. I know him. ... I trust him.
Before what was going on even registered itself in her mind, Whitney found herself bounding toward the wheat field toward the companion that had emerged only moments prior. The dreaded sense of fear and foreboding that had clouded her mind only seconds prior had all but evaporated -- partially because she had found someone she could trust, partially due to Whitney's own naiveté.
Before her own actions registered themselves, Whitney had her arms interlocked around Matthias's neck in a vicegrip of a hug. Her head buried itself in his chest as she shook it slightly, a choked sob turned laugh escaping her lips before she finally managed to utter the words she was attempting to say.
"I don't understand... how could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen, Matt... we're not supposed to be here."
---
At first, Tanesha Lexx had fully intended on escaping the wheat field by any means necessary. She'd gotten close enough to Malibu Barbie to note that she appeared to only be carrying a shield. The shield was useless to Tanesha, and so was the girl. When the blonde had stopped, however, Tanesha had crept back through the tall stalks of wheat and was currently nestled in the nearby treeline, watching intently.
Girls like this one, they disgusted Tanesha. She'd only spoken to her for a few brief moments, and even though the blonde had seemed quite nice -- not to mention scared for her life -- Tanesha couldn't help but be reminded of the girls who had relentlessly tortured her all throughout high school. Those wretched girls -- Ali Grayston and the rest of the Sisterhood -- those girls who thought they were the end-all, be-all of coolness. Those girls who relentlessly flaunted their perfection in front of a far from perfect Tanesha.
And then, it happened. She hadn't noticed the other, taller figure looming in the cornfield. In fact, she'd only caught site of him the moment he'd called out to the blonde. Tanesha spat to the side in disgust as the blonde all but flung herself at this new boy. Apparently they were acquaintances... maybe friends, maybe more, Tanesha didn't know. In any case, they knew one another, and that thought in and of itself made Tanesha want to wretch.
It's so typical. Barbie's on the island for a whopping five minutes before Prince Charming comes to rescue her. Nobody ever comes to rescue me. Nobody wants anything to do with fat, ugly Tanesha. Nobody ever does. Girls like that, I hate them. They should all just die! They should all... all just... die.
Tanesha's anguished look slowly twisted into something more menacing as the words ran through her head. Die. Just die. Looking down to determine that the flashbang was still quite within her grasp, Tanesha grinned an almost sinister and uncharacteristic grin. Girls like that, they should all just die. Fate had been smiling on her. Fate had given her the chance to make them die, to send them away.
"Just die," Tanesha whispered as she rose from her crouched position, flashbang at the ready.
She was so tired. So tired of the "beautiful" people walking all over her. So tired of the "beautiful" people flaunting their perfect lives in her face. This wasn't a fairytale, and Cinderella didn't deserve her Prince Charming. Not this time. Tanesha shuffled through the undergrowth from the treeline in which she had hidden, reaching the edge that overlooked the field rather quickly.
"Die," she whispered, the flashbang still clenched tightly in her fist, "JUST DIE!"
Without a second though, Tanesha pulled the pin and hurled the flashbang grenade at the blonde girl she had encountered minutes before and her newfound companion. She could make them go away. Stupid girls. Always taking all the boys. The boys never wanted Tanesha, always these girls. Always these fake faking fakers that bleached their hair and screwed their way through life. Now, Tanesha could make them all go away... stop stealing all the boys...
Although Webster lists six definitions for the word, only a select few apply to the events and relationships found within Survival of the Fittest. Familiarity is, simply put, thorough knowledge of someone -- through acquaintance or other methods. Familiarity is something that contestants in SOTF often long for... a familiar face to help them through the trials and tribulations of the game.
For Whitney Acosta, familiarity came quite early.
The masculine voice that echoed out from behind her caused the blonde to spin around in a startled manner. A relieved sigh escaped her lips no sooner than she turned around, however, for the figure who had approached her in the wheat field was someone extremely familiar to her.
Matthias.
Unlike the encounter between herself and the African-American girl from Bathurst only moments before, Matthias's appearance was an almost welcome surprise. Truth be told, Whitney had only given him and the remainder of her friends half a thought since waking up in this foresaken place. She had been so concerned with her own survival that thoughts of the people who were close to her had all but ceased.
She hadn't thought about Lexie or Heba or Jennifer or any of the other girls who could've, should've, might've been on the bus along with her. She hadn't given Matthias or Jodeen a second thought. She hadn't even thought about Ricky Callahan or even her next-door neighbors, the Valero twins. Through her short time since awakening on the island, Whitney had only thought about numero uno.
"Matthias..."
Her features softened momentarily, but then a thought struck her. A terrible thought, a thought that should never have run through her mind. This was a dog-eat-dog competition from which only one winner would emerge. Back home, Matthias was someone she would have easily trusted. Here and now, when only hours before she had been instructed to kill until no one else was left standing, could she trust him?
Trust.
Trust was a quality quickly forgotten in a competition such as this. Adrenaline took over, fear and paranoia set in, and the next thing you knew, you were trying to slaughter the person who had been your best friend and confidante only seconds before. Whitney's parents had basically outlawed last year's competition from the Acosta household, but they were never home, and Whitney had seen tidbits of the last game.
Fear took over. People who had been allies, friends, even lovers prior turned their weapons against one another and slaughtered their companions. In Survival of the Fittest, in a competition where only one person could win, that was an inevitability. Alliances were fragile, trust was easily broken... Matt's words slowly wiped the thoughts from her mind.
He's not playing. He wouldn't play. I know him. ... I trust him.
Before what was going on even registered itself in her mind, Whitney found herself bounding toward the wheat field toward the companion that had emerged only moments prior. The dreaded sense of fear and foreboding that had clouded her mind only seconds prior had all but evaporated -- partially because she had found someone she could trust, partially due to Whitney's own naiveté.
Before her own actions registered themselves, Whitney had her arms interlocked around Matthias's neck in a vicegrip of a hug. Her head buried itself in his chest as she shook it slightly, a choked sob turned laugh escaping her lips before she finally managed to utter the words she was attempting to say.
"I don't understand... how could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen, Matt... we're not supposed to be here."
---
At first, Tanesha Lexx had fully intended on escaping the wheat field by any means necessary. She'd gotten close enough to Malibu Barbie to note that she appeared to only be carrying a shield. The shield was useless to Tanesha, and so was the girl. When the blonde had stopped, however, Tanesha had crept back through the tall stalks of wheat and was currently nestled in the nearby treeline, watching intently.
Girls like this one, they disgusted Tanesha. She'd only spoken to her for a few brief moments, and even though the blonde had seemed quite nice -- not to mention scared for her life -- Tanesha couldn't help but be reminded of the girls who had relentlessly tortured her all throughout high school. Those wretched girls -- Ali Grayston and the rest of the Sisterhood -- those girls who thought they were the end-all, be-all of coolness. Those girls who relentlessly flaunted their perfection in front of a far from perfect Tanesha.
And then, it happened. She hadn't noticed the other, taller figure looming in the cornfield. In fact, she'd only caught site of him the moment he'd called out to the blonde. Tanesha spat to the side in disgust as the blonde all but flung herself at this new boy. Apparently they were acquaintances... maybe friends, maybe more, Tanesha didn't know. In any case, they knew one another, and that thought in and of itself made Tanesha want to wretch.
It's so typical. Barbie's on the island for a whopping five minutes before Prince Charming comes to rescue her. Nobody ever comes to rescue me. Nobody wants anything to do with fat, ugly Tanesha. Nobody ever does. Girls like that, I hate them. They should all just die! They should all... all just... die.
Tanesha's anguished look slowly twisted into something more menacing as the words ran through her head. Die. Just die. Looking down to determine that the flashbang was still quite within her grasp, Tanesha grinned an almost sinister and uncharacteristic grin. Girls like that, they should all just die. Fate had been smiling on her. Fate had given her the chance to make them die, to send them away.
"Just die," Tanesha whispered as she rose from her crouched position, flashbang at the ready.
She was so tired. So tired of the "beautiful" people walking all over her. So tired of the "beautiful" people flaunting their perfect lives in her face. This wasn't a fairytale, and Cinderella didn't deserve her Prince Charming. Not this time. Tanesha shuffled through the undergrowth from the treeline in which she had hidden, reaching the edge that overlooked the field rather quickly.
"Die," she whispered, the flashbang still clenched tightly in her fist, "JUST DIE!"
Without a second though, Tanesha pulled the pin and hurled the flashbang grenade at the blonde girl she had encountered minutes before and her newfound companion. She could make them go away. Stupid girls. Always taking all the boys. The boys never wanted Tanesha, always these girls. Always these fake faking fakers that bleached their hair and screwed their way through life. Now, Tanesha could make them all go away... stop stealing all the boys...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
With a sigh of relief as Whitney turned, a look of surprised recognition unfolding on her face, Matthias looked out hopefully. Inwardly, he prayed that she was still the true, good, and pure young woman he had met that day at the bar and grill. He hoped with all his heart that she had not been weak-willed enough to fall prey to the madness that was quickly descending over the island at an alarming rate.
It was in the tentative moment that followed that Matthias saw, and felt the fear that suddenly made itself all the more clear on Whitney's face. All hope he had now was on the verge of falling apart as he saw her deliberating on whether or not to trust him.
In all honesty, Matthias could hardly blame Whitney for the conflict that no doubt was plaguing her. For Matthias to ask Whitney to trust him may have been a more trivial decision in another lifetime. But now the two of them were thrown into a game where there could only be one winner, one survivor. Essentially, it was a situation in which Matthias and Whitney should be opponants. Enemies, even. Friends as they were, friendship had no value in the world of SOTF. They were placed on this island for one sole purpose alone: To kill eachother.
But, no. To Matthias, it wasn't so. Far from that even. To him, friendship still had some worth. Familiarity still had some value. And above all, trust still had meaning. It was then that Matthias decided that he no longer cared about what the rules of the game were, or the reason why he was on the island, or the outrageous claim that trust had no worth. He no longer cared.
For there were more important things to him that were at stake.
So, please....trust me.
This tautology was an endless plea in his mind, as he simply stood at a distance, staring at Whitney with a look of pleading on his face.
Please.
Half-hypnotized by the intense eye-contact made by Whitney and himself, he barely had time to register the form of the young, blonde girl dashing in a full sprint straight towards where he stood.
For a split second of panic, he'd assumed that she intended on charging him down and attacking him while he stood helplessly, caught off guard.
What he never anticipated on was the form of Whitney colliding into him, her arms wrapping around the base of his neck in a fierce hug.
The collision was enough to knock Matthias off balance slightly, causing him to stagger back a bit. More surprised than everything, he looked down to see the face of Whitney buried in his chest, as though to hide away from the world.
He sidestepped slightly, shifting the position of his feet to support Whitney's weight, an expression on his face that was more awkward than everything. He coughed slightly, as though in embarrassed surprise. To be hugged by a girl was not something he was exactly accustomed to, nor was it something he'd expect to happen to him in a situation like this.
But eventually, compassion overtook him, giving him the strength to gently return the hug, holding Whitney tenderly (albeit gingerly) as he heard her choked words.
He couldn't agree more with her. None of this was supposed to happen. None of this was meant to turn out this way. This was a fate that was never meant for them. Yet somewhere in the endless chain of events, something had happened. What was never meant to happen was now unfolding in their eyes before them. What could cause such a chain of events was something that Matthias could not comprehend, no matter how much he tried to make a shred of sense of it.
He sighed, not knowing at all how to reply to Whitney's words. Instead, Matthias settled on making an attempted to comfort the other girl, (as well as himself) by continuing to hold her lightly.
As he allowed his head to hang slightly over her shoulder, his gaze suddenly snapped upwards to look directly ahead of him.
He froze.
The large, dark-skinned girl before him was not someone he'd recognized from Franklyn. As much as Matthias knew how cruel it was to think such a thing, he figured that he would have recognize at least such a person of that size and weight. But it was not just the sight of the stranger before them that had suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere that caused Matthias to reflexively tighten the grip of his arm over Whitney's form.
Rather, what instilled the most fear in him was the grenade-shaped object that she clenched in her hand, as well as the chillingly hateful words that escaped her lips in a whisper.
Oh, God...
In the exact same moment in which the grenade was launched towards them, Matthias reacted before his mind registered exactly what was happening. Protectively, he threw one protective arm securely around Whitney's form, at the same time kicking off from the ground. Together, the two of them were sent flying off the ground and into the air away from the grenade hurtling towards them.
Mentally praying for the sake of both of their lives, Matthias moved his other arm to shield and cover Whitney's head from the explosion that was sure to follow, at the same time tucking in his head close. In the split second that followed, he braced himself against the explosion to come while shielding Whitney from what was to be the full impact of it.
It was in that exact moment that Matthias suddenly felt the air around him rip into a full blown eruption of thunder, sending his ears into a state of numbness as they were filled with a deafening explosion of sound. The force of the concussive explosion sent his mind into a stunned state, rendering him almost half-consciousness, and numbing his senses even as both he and Whitney landed together on the ground, Matthias' arm still protectively wrapped around Whitney.
It was then that Matthias suddenly realized that the world beyond the barrier of his tightly shut eyes had burst forth into a world of bright light, burning his eyes even as he clenched them shut together.
The fact that he was still holding Whitney was what made him realize that he was indeed, still alive.
It was in the tentative moment that followed that Matthias saw, and felt the fear that suddenly made itself all the more clear on Whitney's face. All hope he had now was on the verge of falling apart as he saw her deliberating on whether or not to trust him.
In all honesty, Matthias could hardly blame Whitney for the conflict that no doubt was plaguing her. For Matthias to ask Whitney to trust him may have been a more trivial decision in another lifetime. But now the two of them were thrown into a game where there could only be one winner, one survivor. Essentially, it was a situation in which Matthias and Whitney should be opponants. Enemies, even. Friends as they were, friendship had no value in the world of SOTF. They were placed on this island for one sole purpose alone: To kill eachother.
But, no. To Matthias, it wasn't so. Far from that even. To him, friendship still had some worth. Familiarity still had some value. And above all, trust still had meaning. It was then that Matthias decided that he no longer cared about what the rules of the game were, or the reason why he was on the island, or the outrageous claim that trust had no worth. He no longer cared.
For there were more important things to him that were at stake.
So, please....trust me.
This tautology was an endless plea in his mind, as he simply stood at a distance, staring at Whitney with a look of pleading on his face.
Please.
Half-hypnotized by the intense eye-contact made by Whitney and himself, he barely had time to register the form of the young, blonde girl dashing in a full sprint straight towards where he stood.
For a split second of panic, he'd assumed that she intended on charging him down and attacking him while he stood helplessly, caught off guard.
What he never anticipated on was the form of Whitney colliding into him, her arms wrapping around the base of his neck in a fierce hug.
The collision was enough to knock Matthias off balance slightly, causing him to stagger back a bit. More surprised than everything, he looked down to see the face of Whitney buried in his chest, as though to hide away from the world.
He sidestepped slightly, shifting the position of his feet to support Whitney's weight, an expression on his face that was more awkward than everything. He coughed slightly, as though in embarrassed surprise. To be hugged by a girl was not something he was exactly accustomed to, nor was it something he'd expect to happen to him in a situation like this.
But eventually, compassion overtook him, giving him the strength to gently return the hug, holding Whitney tenderly (albeit gingerly) as he heard her choked words.
He couldn't agree more with her. None of this was supposed to happen. None of this was meant to turn out this way. This was a fate that was never meant for them. Yet somewhere in the endless chain of events, something had happened. What was never meant to happen was now unfolding in their eyes before them. What could cause such a chain of events was something that Matthias could not comprehend, no matter how much he tried to make a shred of sense of it.
He sighed, not knowing at all how to reply to Whitney's words. Instead, Matthias settled on making an attempted to comfort the other girl, (as well as himself) by continuing to hold her lightly.
As he allowed his head to hang slightly over her shoulder, his gaze suddenly snapped upwards to look directly ahead of him.
He froze.
The large, dark-skinned girl before him was not someone he'd recognized from Franklyn. As much as Matthias knew how cruel it was to think such a thing, he figured that he would have recognize at least such a person of that size and weight. But it was not just the sight of the stranger before them that had suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere that caused Matthias to reflexively tighten the grip of his arm over Whitney's form.
Rather, what instilled the most fear in him was the grenade-shaped object that she clenched in her hand, as well as the chillingly hateful words that escaped her lips in a whisper.
Oh, God...
In the exact same moment in which the grenade was launched towards them, Matthias reacted before his mind registered exactly what was happening. Protectively, he threw one protective arm securely around Whitney's form, at the same time kicking off from the ground. Together, the two of them were sent flying off the ground and into the air away from the grenade hurtling towards them.
Mentally praying for the sake of both of their lives, Matthias moved his other arm to shield and cover Whitney's head from the explosion that was sure to follow, at the same time tucking in his head close. In the split second that followed, he braced himself against the explosion to come while shielding Whitney from what was to be the full impact of it.
It was in that exact moment that Matthias suddenly felt the air around him rip into a full blown eruption of thunder, sending his ears into a state of numbness as they were filled with a deafening explosion of sound. The force of the concussive explosion sent his mind into a stunned state, rendering him almost half-consciousness, and numbing his senses even as both he and Whitney landed together on the ground, Matthias' arm still protectively wrapped around Whitney.
It was then that Matthias suddenly realized that the world beyond the barrier of his tightly shut eyes had burst forth into a world of bright light, burning his eyes even as he clenched them shut together.
The fact that he was still holding Whitney was what made him realize that he was indeed, still alive.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
It was a nice feeling, finding comfort and solace in the arms of a person you considered a close companion. It was a feeling that the orchestrators behind the SOTF ACT all but forbade you to feel, but at this particular moment in time, Whitney Acosta wouldn't have traded it for the world. Matthias offered her no reassuring words or a boost of confidence at her own choked thoughts. He didn't have to.
In a game where the object is to slaughter them all until you're the last one standing, friends are a rare occurance, and true friendship is far and in between. Perhaps having incidentally encountered Matthias here in the field hadn't been a coincidence after all. Perhaps, in some round-about way, fate had been on her side and destiny, for that brief moment, had been looking out for her.
Whitney had no idea just how much her ideas of fate and destiny were about to be challenged.
The blonde-headed girl was completely oblivious to the fact that the African-American girl she'd encountered in the field earlier hadn't left the vicinity. She was also oblivious to the fact that the same girl, in an unnatural fit of rage, had just launched a flashbang grenade at them. After all, her back was turned to the position in which Tanesha was standing, she had no way to see it.
All Whitney knew that within the next second, Matthias had effectively launched both himself and her into the air. For a brief instant, it registered to Whitney that he might've been attacking her, that he might've simply put on a facade of innocence to lure her into a trap. These thoughts ran through her mind at a rapid pace as she felt her back impact hard on the cold ground.
Thoughts of Matthias attacking her were immediately purged from her mind as she realized that Matthias was still holding on to her. Of course he hadn't been attacking her, he would never. In fact, Matthias was shielding her. Only then did things begin to register to her. The air around them filled with a surge of heat and an earsplitting noise, and all Whitney Acosta could do was close her eyes tightly and cling to the figure that was more or less acting as her shield.
Seconds passed after the explosion, and all Whitney knew was that she was most definitely alive. She could hear nothing, she could see nothing. Her eyes burned as they opened -- luckily, she had had them squeezed shut tightly only seconds prior, and that had saved her from the brunt of the damage, but the world around her looked blurry at best. Letting out a light breath, Whitney dared not look at her companion for fear that he had become nothing more than a meatshield.
"Matthias?"
The whispered word escaped her mouth but fell on her own deaf ears. In that instant, it dawned on her that she had run into the wielder of the flashbang grenades previously. Someone that the thought could be so harmless and such a miniscule and unimportant person in the big scheme of things had turned around and attempted to hunt both Whitney and the dark-headed boy who had joined her down. The mere thought of it sent a chill up her spine.
---
Meanwhile, Tanesha Lexx watched in a jealous rage as the flashbang flew through the air. She had, miraculously enough, had enough sense to duck down, close her eyes, and cover her ears as the flashbang went off. Even from this distance, she could hear the ringing in her ears from the piercing noise the flashbang gave off as it detonated. Of course, Tanesha had read the book, she knew that the flashbang alone wouldn't obliterate her competition.
The black girl rose to her feet in an attempt to admire her work. A light 'tsk' escaped her lips, however, when she came to the realization that the boy had more or less used himself as a shield to protect the blonde girl. It was so stereotypical. That's why she hated girls like that! If it would've been a frag grenade or any other kind, her companion would've probably signed his death sentence to protect her. It made Tanesha sick.
Regardless, Tanesha could only assume that at least the boy had been incapacitated for the moment. Now was her chance to eliminate Malibu Barbie from the competition early. Then she wouldn't have to worry about her any more. No more. No more whores stealing all the boys. Tanesha was tired of all the whores always poking and prodding and making fun of her, always taking all the boys she liked away. Even this girl, this girl that had put on the facade of kindness when she'd encountered her... she was just like them all.
Tanesha reprimanded herself for not seeing that same trait in the blonde sooner. No sooner than she'd left her alone, some gorgeous guy had swooped in to save her from certain doom. What if Tanesha had wanted to make friends? Prince Charming would still have come to sweep the blonde away, and they'd both have left Tanesha for dead. She was sure of it. Before she even knew what she was doing, Tanesha was clutching her dufflebag, dragging it down the hill behind her.
Stupid, stupid whore. Deserves to die. They all deserve to die. So tired of being picked on, of being teased, of having it flaunted in my face that you're prettier than I am! It's not my fault. It's not my fault I'm ugly. I'll make you ugly, too. Then you'll see... you'll see what it's like. You'll see what I have to deal with every day of my restless, miserable existence!
Slowly, meaningfully, Tanesha trekked toward the two forms sprawled out in the wheat field, a menacing smile forming on her face. Stopping for just a moment, Tanesha extracted the flashlight Mr. Danya had issued her from her daypack, the smile growing even wider as she did so. The black girl loomed over the two figures sprawled out on the ground, her face twisting into a disgusted and hate-filled glare.
I'll make you ugly, too. Make you both ugly.
Ugly. It was a word Tanesha Lexx had been called her entire life. She had always been called names -- she'd been teased for being fat, everyone always called her ugly. They teased her and told her she was a dyke. Tanesha lingered over the two forms, inwardly knowing that nobody ever teased them or called them names. They were part of the "in-crowd", she imagined... the pretty people. They were disgusting. With that thought, Tanesha purposefully swung her leg, attempting to kick Matthias off of the blonde she fully intended to give a full "makeover" to.
In a game where the object is to slaughter them all until you're the last one standing, friends are a rare occurance, and true friendship is far and in between. Perhaps having incidentally encountered Matthias here in the field hadn't been a coincidence after all. Perhaps, in some round-about way, fate had been on her side and destiny, for that brief moment, had been looking out for her.
Whitney had no idea just how much her ideas of fate and destiny were about to be challenged.
The blonde-headed girl was completely oblivious to the fact that the African-American girl she'd encountered in the field earlier hadn't left the vicinity. She was also oblivious to the fact that the same girl, in an unnatural fit of rage, had just launched a flashbang grenade at them. After all, her back was turned to the position in which Tanesha was standing, she had no way to see it.
All Whitney knew that within the next second, Matthias had effectively launched both himself and her into the air. For a brief instant, it registered to Whitney that he might've been attacking her, that he might've simply put on a facade of innocence to lure her into a trap. These thoughts ran through her mind at a rapid pace as she felt her back impact hard on the cold ground.
Thoughts of Matthias attacking her were immediately purged from her mind as she realized that Matthias was still holding on to her. Of course he hadn't been attacking her, he would never. In fact, Matthias was shielding her. Only then did things begin to register to her. The air around them filled with a surge of heat and an earsplitting noise, and all Whitney Acosta could do was close her eyes tightly and cling to the figure that was more or less acting as her shield.
Seconds passed after the explosion, and all Whitney knew was that she was most definitely alive. She could hear nothing, she could see nothing. Her eyes burned as they opened -- luckily, she had had them squeezed shut tightly only seconds prior, and that had saved her from the brunt of the damage, but the world around her looked blurry at best. Letting out a light breath, Whitney dared not look at her companion for fear that he had become nothing more than a meatshield.
"Matthias?"
The whispered word escaped her mouth but fell on her own deaf ears. In that instant, it dawned on her that she had run into the wielder of the flashbang grenades previously. Someone that the thought could be so harmless and such a miniscule and unimportant person in the big scheme of things had turned around and attempted to hunt both Whitney and the dark-headed boy who had joined her down. The mere thought of it sent a chill up her spine.
---
Meanwhile, Tanesha Lexx watched in a jealous rage as the flashbang flew through the air. She had, miraculously enough, had enough sense to duck down, close her eyes, and cover her ears as the flashbang went off. Even from this distance, she could hear the ringing in her ears from the piercing noise the flashbang gave off as it detonated. Of course, Tanesha had read the book, she knew that the flashbang alone wouldn't obliterate her competition.
The black girl rose to her feet in an attempt to admire her work. A light 'tsk' escaped her lips, however, when she came to the realization that the boy had more or less used himself as a shield to protect the blonde girl. It was so stereotypical. That's why she hated girls like that! If it would've been a frag grenade or any other kind, her companion would've probably signed his death sentence to protect her. It made Tanesha sick.
Regardless, Tanesha could only assume that at least the boy had been incapacitated for the moment. Now was her chance to eliminate Malibu Barbie from the competition early. Then she wouldn't have to worry about her any more. No more. No more whores stealing all the boys. Tanesha was tired of all the whores always poking and prodding and making fun of her, always taking all the boys she liked away. Even this girl, this girl that had put on the facade of kindness when she'd encountered her... she was just like them all.
Tanesha reprimanded herself for not seeing that same trait in the blonde sooner. No sooner than she'd left her alone, some gorgeous guy had swooped in to save her from certain doom. What if Tanesha had wanted to make friends? Prince Charming would still have come to sweep the blonde away, and they'd both have left Tanesha for dead. She was sure of it. Before she even knew what she was doing, Tanesha was clutching her dufflebag, dragging it down the hill behind her.
Stupid, stupid whore. Deserves to die. They all deserve to die. So tired of being picked on, of being teased, of having it flaunted in my face that you're prettier than I am! It's not my fault. It's not my fault I'm ugly. I'll make you ugly, too. Then you'll see... you'll see what it's like. You'll see what I have to deal with every day of my restless, miserable existence!
Slowly, meaningfully, Tanesha trekked toward the two forms sprawled out in the wheat field, a menacing smile forming on her face. Stopping for just a moment, Tanesha extracted the flashlight Mr. Danya had issued her from her daypack, the smile growing even wider as she did so. The black girl loomed over the two figures sprawled out on the ground, her face twisting into a disgusted and hate-filled glare.
I'll make you ugly, too. Make you both ugly.
Ugly. It was a word Tanesha Lexx had been called her entire life. She had always been called names -- she'd been teased for being fat, everyone always called her ugly. They teased her and told her she was a dyke. Tanesha lingered over the two forms, inwardly knowing that nobody ever teased them or called them names. They were part of the "in-crowd", she imagined... the pretty people. They were disgusting. With that thought, Tanesha purposefully swung her leg, attempting to kick Matthias off of the blonde she fully intended to give a full "makeover" to.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
It felt as though white fire was burning through his eyes and into the back of his mind.
His sense of sight and hearing were both numbed to a degree where all he could sense was the scent of heated metal and scorched wheat, and the feeling of Whitney still locked in his arms. He could also feel the sudden, sharp ache of his shoulder where he had landed hard against the ground after an attempt to throw Whitney and himself away from the destructive wake of the explosion.
On the bright side, the fact that his only his shoulder was aching confirmed that he hadn't been embedded with shrapnel...nor had he been burnt up by the explosion. Which seemed quite odd in a sense. 'Cause let's face it. Things like that usually happen in a war or action movie in which such destructive weapons were used, even if they were choreographed or digitally edited.
For a second, Matthias wondered if it was a sheer miracle that prevented both him and Whitney from being pummeled with shrapnel, or completely incinerated.
Or else it must have been a stun grenade...
Though none of it mattered now. As much as Matthias was still alive, as was Whitney, judging from the movement underneath his arm, he was now blind and deaf to the world around him. Unable to register what exactly was going on while he lay prone on the ground, his form covering Whitney, he never registered the fact that the exact same girl who had launched the grenade at them was still present, and more than eager to torment them further.
That is, until he felt a blunt-force slam directly into his stomach, sending his gut into a world of pain and knocking the wind out of him. The force of the kick that Tanesha delivered was enough to fling him off of Whitney, sending him rolling against the ground about a foot or so away.
As he groaned in pain and discomfort, Matthias began to realize what was happening.
There was a player in their midst, someone who had fallen prey to the madness of the game and had given in to killing at whim, fallen to murderous intent. And she was out for their blood. That of Whitney and Matthias.
Whitney.
Beyond any sort of regard for himself, it was then that he suddenly felt a sense of panicked concern for the safety of the other girl. It was then that the adrenaline strengthened its effect on Matthias, allowing him to recover partially from the temporary deafness and blindness the wake of the grenade's explosion had afflicted him with.
And beyond the wall of bright redness and whiteness that burned his eyes into near complete blindness, he could barely...just barely register the sight of the large form of Tanesha, with a heavy, blunt looking object in her hands. The way she handled it was enough for Matthias to make sense of her intent.
And it was the realization that filled Matthias with sudden anger and determination.
Slowly, gradually, he forced himself to rise upwards, though the pain in his shoulder sent his mind reeling. The sudden deafness that was gradually fading from his ears caused him to have trouble regaining his balance.
But still, he forced himself to stand, knowing that he would no sooner hate and despise himself if he failed to do anything now.
Training his unfocused eyes in the direction of the large, heavy girl now standing over Whitney, Matthias let out a low growl (though it seemed faded and distant through his own deaf ears) as he hefted the heavy bag over his shoulder, holding it by the straps before swinging the whole thing towards directly the one who dared to attack them.
His sense of sight and hearing were both numbed to a degree where all he could sense was the scent of heated metal and scorched wheat, and the feeling of Whitney still locked in his arms. He could also feel the sudden, sharp ache of his shoulder where he had landed hard against the ground after an attempt to throw Whitney and himself away from the destructive wake of the explosion.
On the bright side, the fact that his only his shoulder was aching confirmed that he hadn't been embedded with shrapnel...nor had he been burnt up by the explosion. Which seemed quite odd in a sense. 'Cause let's face it. Things like that usually happen in a war or action movie in which such destructive weapons were used, even if they were choreographed or digitally edited.
For a second, Matthias wondered if it was a sheer miracle that prevented both him and Whitney from being pummeled with shrapnel, or completely incinerated.
Or else it must have been a stun grenade...
Though none of it mattered now. As much as Matthias was still alive, as was Whitney, judging from the movement underneath his arm, he was now blind and deaf to the world around him. Unable to register what exactly was going on while he lay prone on the ground, his form covering Whitney, he never registered the fact that the exact same girl who had launched the grenade at them was still present, and more than eager to torment them further.
That is, until he felt a blunt-force slam directly into his stomach, sending his gut into a world of pain and knocking the wind out of him. The force of the kick that Tanesha delivered was enough to fling him off of Whitney, sending him rolling against the ground about a foot or so away.
As he groaned in pain and discomfort, Matthias began to realize what was happening.
There was a player in their midst, someone who had fallen prey to the madness of the game and had given in to killing at whim, fallen to murderous intent. And she was out for their blood. That of Whitney and Matthias.
Whitney.
Beyond any sort of regard for himself, it was then that he suddenly felt a sense of panicked concern for the safety of the other girl. It was then that the adrenaline strengthened its effect on Matthias, allowing him to recover partially from the temporary deafness and blindness the wake of the grenade's explosion had afflicted him with.
And beyond the wall of bright redness and whiteness that burned his eyes into near complete blindness, he could barely...just barely register the sight of the large form of Tanesha, with a heavy, blunt looking object in her hands. The way she handled it was enough for Matthias to make sense of her intent.
And it was the realization that filled Matthias with sudden anger and determination.
Slowly, gradually, he forced himself to rise upwards, though the pain in his shoulder sent his mind reeling. The sudden deafness that was gradually fading from his ears caused him to have trouble regaining his balance.
But still, he forced himself to stand, knowing that he would no sooner hate and despise himself if he failed to do anything now.
Training his unfocused eyes in the direction of the large, heavy girl now standing over Whitney, Matthias let out a low growl (though it seemed faded and distant through his own deaf ears) as he hefted the heavy bag over his shoulder, holding it by the straps before swinging the whole thing towards directly the one who dared to attack them.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
Coming From: I flow wherever the wind takes me
Mariavel had been watching the scene from a distance, being careful to keep her breathing low and keep herself hidden from the black mammoth. She'd only seen the latter part of the ordeal. She had seen Tanesha kick the boy down. The woman was large, so her foot was able to send the smaller boy rolling away. She scoffed at the scene. That pig. She would know better than to do that to someone like her. Yes.... One of her targets was finally in sight. Time to go in for the kill.
Mariavel had actually arrived directly after the flash bang went off. She'd run there the entire way from the residential district. Good thing she did too. She might've missed finding the jellyroll. She chuckled to herself. She waited to catch her breath and drew the knife from its sheath. Its beautiful blade glistened in the sun. Reaching behind her, she grasped the shaft of her tomahawk. Oh yeah.... She was ready for this. Another good thing cam out of killing that girl she supposed. She now had more weaponry to kill tease assholes with.
Her body tensed as she prepared to charge the girl, that is, she was about to. She aw the boy get up just as Tanesha was about to slam her flashlight into the other girl(whom she did not recognize)'s skull. The bag hit her head on, dazing her a bit. Mariael took this as her opportunity to move in. She left her tomahawk where it was and stood up, bringing herself into view. She called out to the girl.
"Tanesha.... Isn't it unfair to attack people way below your weight class?" She smirked for effect and awaited the girl to notice her.
Mariavel had been watching the scene from a distance, being careful to keep her breathing low and keep herself hidden from the black mammoth. She'd only seen the latter part of the ordeal. She had seen Tanesha kick the boy down. The woman was large, so her foot was able to send the smaller boy rolling away. She scoffed at the scene. That pig. She would know better than to do that to someone like her. Yes.... One of her targets was finally in sight. Time to go in for the kill.
Mariavel had actually arrived directly after the flash bang went off. She'd run there the entire way from the residential district. Good thing she did too. She might've missed finding the jellyroll. She chuckled to herself. She waited to catch her breath and drew the knife from its sheath. Its beautiful blade glistened in the sun. Reaching behind her, she grasped the shaft of her tomahawk. Oh yeah.... She was ready for this. Another good thing cam out of killing that girl she supposed. She now had more weaponry to kill tease assholes with.
Her body tensed as she prepared to charge the girl, that is, she was about to. She aw the boy get up just as Tanesha was about to slam her flashlight into the other girl(whom she did not recognize)'s skull. The bag hit her head on, dazing her a bit. Mariael took this as her opportunity to move in. She left her tomahawk where it was and stood up, bringing herself into view. She called out to the girl.
"Tanesha.... Isn't it unfair to attack people way below your weight class?" She smirked for effect and awaited the girl to notice her.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Mitsuko2. 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.
The ringing in her ears had yet to cease, and Whitney failed to hear the footsteps of the dark-skinned girl approaching herself and Matthias as they lay sprawled out in the field following the impact of the flashbang grenade. In fact, it barely registered to her that they were still in the girl's presence until Whitney caught a glimpse of her face, twisted into a menacing and repulsive grin, as the girl loomed over the pair.
Tanesha's foot raised into the air in what almost seemed like slow-motion, and Whitney could do nothing as the heavy-set girl slammed her foot into Matthias, sending him flying off of her and impacting onto the nearby ground a few feet away. She looked up blearily at her assaulter, the events finally clicking in place as she saw Tanesha raise the flashlight up as though preparing to bash Whitney in the face with it. Before the blonde even had time to react, though, the black girl was went reeling.
Matthias swung his daypack at Tanesha, completely catching her offguard and sending her staggering sideways and away from Whitney. Clumsily, the girl staggered to the left, then backward, and nearly fell before finally regaining her balance. She looked up at Matthias, tears forming in the brim of her eyes, and let out a lighthearted laugh. Maybe he couldn't hear it given the circumstances, but if he could, he probably would've found it creepy.
"You people," Tanesha stated accusingly, her eyes narrowing into a squint-turned-glare as she did so, "I hate you people. People like you... always mocking me... making fun of me. Always calling me fat, and telling people I'm a dyke... always. Always taking out girls like her and flaunting them in my face, always choosing girls like that over me. All men... liars. You say it's about personality, but you never get to know fat, ugly Tanesha. Never know the girl with the nice personality. Always the bimbos who'd give it up on the first date. Always the bimbos over me!"
Tanesha's chunky index finger pointed itself accusingly at Matthias as she uttered the words in between choked-up sobs. Tears streamed down the African-American girls face... tears of anguish, tears of remorse, tears of pent-up jealousy and stress and emotions that Tanesha often confided in her journal as a means of releasing herself... or at least she did, until the incident. People like them, they caused the incident. It's their fault. They're all alike. All just alike.
Whitney, meanwhile, had pushed herself up from her prone position on the ground into a sitting position in the grass, her body doubled over from the momentum with which she had impacted with the ground. The blonde-headed girl slowly rose to her feet as Tanesha accusingly stated her thoughts to Matthias. More than anything, Whitney was confused. In another time and place, she might've felt sympathy for this wretched soul that had been brought before them.
Now, though, in this competition, she felt nothing other than the obvious need to get as far away as possible from she and Matthias's assailant. This girl made no sense. The hateful words that erupted like a volcano from her mouth only confused Whitney. This girl didn't know her, nor did she know Matthias. Her accusations made no sense. They were completely unfounded. Whitney didn't even know her, how could she have possibly done anything to her?
Perhaps this was the first time that Whitney would witness the effects of the game on an individual's physical and mental well-being. Yesterday, the large girl that stood in front of them was probably a normal human being. She might've been miserable and a bit misunderstood, but she certainly wasn't the raving lunatic that stood before them now attempting to kill them both with the butt of a flashlight.
The stand-off between Matthias and Tanesha continued on for a moment that seemed to last eons, Whitney only being able to watch on at the brawl that seemed almost imminent given the circumstances. Whitney had expected a clash between the two. Ever heard the saying "expect the unexpected"? That, it seemed, is what Whitney Acosta should have been doing. She certainly hadn't expected the turn of events that would follow.
Another voice rang out, catching the attention of both Whitney and Tanesha. Whitney only looked confusedly at the new blonde-headed girl that had emerged. She, too, was unfamiliar. Tanesha, however, seemed to almost snarl at the sight of the newcomer. Her venomous words seemed to hit a nerve with the large girl and she immediately diverted her attention from Matthias and Whitney and onto the blonde that had emerged from the treeline.
"Shouldn't you be out spreading herpes to someone else's boyfriend, whore?" Tanesha shouted in a rage, "WHORE, WHORE, FUCKING WHORE! Whores deserve to die! All whores, all whores should die!"
In one fell movement, Whitney swooped up her pack and the shield that had been flung to the ground nearby and hastily approached Matthias. The bewildered look that plastered itself to her features remained, but overall, Whitney didn't care what was happening now. She was just grateful to have the girl's attention focused on someone else. All but grabbing Matt's wrist, she attempted to pull him along and make a dash out of the field.
"We need to get out of here, and quick."
It was all that had to be said, really. Tanesha wasn't paying attention to the blonde girl trying to persuade her toyboy to leave the field. Tanesha didn't care about Barbie and Ken at the moment. Bigger fish needed to be fried, and said fish had just walked into the field. She smirked at the thought. Mariavel sure smelled like a dead fish. Tuna. Fucking all the boys made you smell like tuna, and Mariavel fucked all the boys.
Picking up the entirety of her daypack, Tanesha crouched into a defensive position, her eyes never leaving the blonde girl. Slowly, determinedly, she walked toward Mariavel, her features twitching slightly as she looked the girl over. Cinderella and Prince Charming would have to wait their turn... right now, it was time to take out the Queen of the Whores. It was time for her reign to come to an end.
Tanesha's foot raised into the air in what almost seemed like slow-motion, and Whitney could do nothing as the heavy-set girl slammed her foot into Matthias, sending him flying off of her and impacting onto the nearby ground a few feet away. She looked up blearily at her assaulter, the events finally clicking in place as she saw Tanesha raise the flashlight up as though preparing to bash Whitney in the face with it. Before the blonde even had time to react, though, the black girl was went reeling.
Matthias swung his daypack at Tanesha, completely catching her offguard and sending her staggering sideways and away from Whitney. Clumsily, the girl staggered to the left, then backward, and nearly fell before finally regaining her balance. She looked up at Matthias, tears forming in the brim of her eyes, and let out a lighthearted laugh. Maybe he couldn't hear it given the circumstances, but if he could, he probably would've found it creepy.
"You people," Tanesha stated accusingly, her eyes narrowing into a squint-turned-glare as she did so, "I hate you people. People like you... always mocking me... making fun of me. Always calling me fat, and telling people I'm a dyke... always. Always taking out girls like her and flaunting them in my face, always choosing girls like that over me. All men... liars. You say it's about personality, but you never get to know fat, ugly Tanesha. Never know the girl with the nice personality. Always the bimbos who'd give it up on the first date. Always the bimbos over me!"
Tanesha's chunky index finger pointed itself accusingly at Matthias as she uttered the words in between choked-up sobs. Tears streamed down the African-American girls face... tears of anguish, tears of remorse, tears of pent-up jealousy and stress and emotions that Tanesha often confided in her journal as a means of releasing herself... or at least she did, until the incident. People like them, they caused the incident. It's their fault. They're all alike. All just alike.
Whitney, meanwhile, had pushed herself up from her prone position on the ground into a sitting position in the grass, her body doubled over from the momentum with which she had impacted with the ground. The blonde-headed girl slowly rose to her feet as Tanesha accusingly stated her thoughts to Matthias. More than anything, Whitney was confused. In another time and place, she might've felt sympathy for this wretched soul that had been brought before them.
Now, though, in this competition, she felt nothing other than the obvious need to get as far away as possible from she and Matthias's assailant. This girl made no sense. The hateful words that erupted like a volcano from her mouth only confused Whitney. This girl didn't know her, nor did she know Matthias. Her accusations made no sense. They were completely unfounded. Whitney didn't even know her, how could she have possibly done anything to her?
Perhaps this was the first time that Whitney would witness the effects of the game on an individual's physical and mental well-being. Yesterday, the large girl that stood in front of them was probably a normal human being. She might've been miserable and a bit misunderstood, but she certainly wasn't the raving lunatic that stood before them now attempting to kill them both with the butt of a flashlight.
The stand-off between Matthias and Tanesha continued on for a moment that seemed to last eons, Whitney only being able to watch on at the brawl that seemed almost imminent given the circumstances. Whitney had expected a clash between the two. Ever heard the saying "expect the unexpected"? That, it seemed, is what Whitney Acosta should have been doing. She certainly hadn't expected the turn of events that would follow.
Another voice rang out, catching the attention of both Whitney and Tanesha. Whitney only looked confusedly at the new blonde-headed girl that had emerged. She, too, was unfamiliar. Tanesha, however, seemed to almost snarl at the sight of the newcomer. Her venomous words seemed to hit a nerve with the large girl and she immediately diverted her attention from Matthias and Whitney and onto the blonde that had emerged from the treeline.
"Shouldn't you be out spreading herpes to someone else's boyfriend, whore?" Tanesha shouted in a rage, "WHORE, WHORE, FUCKING WHORE! Whores deserve to die! All whores, all whores should die!"
In one fell movement, Whitney swooped up her pack and the shield that had been flung to the ground nearby and hastily approached Matthias. The bewildered look that plastered itself to her features remained, but overall, Whitney didn't care what was happening now. She was just grateful to have the girl's attention focused on someone else. All but grabbing Matt's wrist, she attempted to pull him along and make a dash out of the field.
"We need to get out of here, and quick."
It was all that had to be said, really. Tanesha wasn't paying attention to the blonde girl trying to persuade her toyboy to leave the field. Tanesha didn't care about Barbie and Ken at the moment. Bigger fish needed to be fried, and said fish had just walked into the field. She smirked at the thought. Mariavel sure smelled like a dead fish. Tuna. Fucking all the boys made you smell like tuna, and Mariavel fucked all the boys.
Picking up the entirety of her daypack, Tanesha crouched into a defensive position, her eyes never leaving the blonde girl. Slowly, determinedly, she walked toward Mariavel, her features twitching slightly as she looked the girl over. Cinderella and Prince Charming would have to wait their turn... right now, it was time to take out the Queen of the Whores. It was time for her reign to come to an end.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
((Continued from: here))
Mariavel cringed at the hurtful words spat out by this hulking girl. She'd endured that day after day in school. Day in, day out. "Whore"... "Fucking slut".... "You have an STD by now, don't you" She'd always heard that. She wasn't a whore... She didn't even have sex yet. She was still a virgin! She...she was pure... This bitch didn't know, she just didn't!
"What the fuck do you know?! Do you think that's all I am? Huh?! I never wanted.... I'm still a virgin dipshit! That's one up you have on me, eh, Tanesha?!" She promised herself she wouldn't cry, but the tears were welling up inside her.
"You say it's about personality? Well, news flash honey, you have NONE! No one want's to date a girl who's always feeling sorry for herself. All you did was angst Hun! No boy want's that! You and the sisterhood, you're all the same! Always making rumors! Always telling lies!" She had let a few tears fall, but she was still holding back. Her Tanto had been raised into a defensive pose. The monster was moving closer to her.
"Yeah... you think you have it the worst, don't you? You have it better than most, let me tell you. But... all that doesn't matter. You've crossed too many lines Tanesha." She reached behind her and pulled out the tomahawk. It didn't fail her last time, lets hope it works again. Now holding duel weapons, she smirked.
"Oh, and when you die, give my regards to Miss. Dibenidetti. I'm sure she's lonely." With that said, she ran at the girl. Thankfully, she was much faster than Tanesha, so getting past her would be easy. When she got in range, she slashed at the girl with the knife and swung with the axe before dodging around her, not even sure if the attacks hit.
Mariavel cringed at the hurtful words spat out by this hulking girl. She'd endured that day after day in school. Day in, day out. "Whore"... "Fucking slut".... "You have an STD by now, don't you" She'd always heard that. She wasn't a whore... She didn't even have sex yet. She was still a virgin! She...she was pure... This bitch didn't know, she just didn't!
"What the fuck do you know?! Do you think that's all I am? Huh?! I never wanted.... I'm still a virgin dipshit! That's one up you have on me, eh, Tanesha?!" She promised herself she wouldn't cry, but the tears were welling up inside her.
"You say it's about personality? Well, news flash honey, you have NONE! No one want's to date a girl who's always feeling sorry for herself. All you did was angst Hun! No boy want's that! You and the sisterhood, you're all the same! Always making rumors! Always telling lies!" She had let a few tears fall, but she was still holding back. Her Tanto had been raised into a defensive pose. The monster was moving closer to her.
"Yeah... you think you have it the worst, don't you? You have it better than most, let me tell you. But... all that doesn't matter. You've crossed too many lines Tanesha." She reached behind her and pulled out the tomahawk. It didn't fail her last time, lets hope it works again. Now holding duel weapons, she smirked.
"Oh, and when you die, give my regards to Miss. Dibenidetti. I'm sure she's lonely." With that said, she ran at the girl. Thankfully, she was much faster than Tanesha, so getting past her would be easy. When she got in range, she slashed at the girl with the knife and swung with the axe before dodging around her, not even sure if the attacks hit.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Mitsuko2. 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.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
The dull ache in Matthias' shoulder was long since forgotten, numbed by the effects of adrenaline. Though caused his hold on the straps of daypack to waver slightly, he continued to hold it at the ready, balancing it on his shoulder with both hands and fully prepared to hurl the entire thing at the girl should she attempt to attack either himself or Whitney again. It was a grim determination that hardened his facial features, the determination and will to defend both himself and the very people he cared for, even if it meant going up against one who was but a young teenager just like himself
His eyes still burned, and his ears still rang with numbness from the effect of the flashbang, impairing his senses and inducing him to rely mainly on gut instinct to determine what their attacker's next move would be.
Through the redness of his vision, he could just barely discern the large girl staggering back from the force of the impact delivered by the swung dayback. He knew it would never have been enough to take her down completely, but at the very least, it kept her at bay and drove her away from Whitney. And Whitney...it was her whom the attacker targetted first. Matthias had realized this with utter bewilderment and incredulity upon being kicked off, only to see the assailant directing her gaze towards Whitney, intending to attack her with the heavy flashlight...
Why, though? Why Whitney? It was all beyond Matthias' comprehension as to why this strange, heavyset girl who likely had not had a thing to do with Whitney in the past would have the intent to wrack such devastation on a stranger like Whitney. What had Whitney done? Why attack her? Why?
Matthias stepped towards their attacker slightly, placing himself firmly between Whitney and the strange girl, keeping at the defensive. He might have attacked her outright yet again, simply to make sure that, if the first impact only caught her off guard, the second one would stick. But Matthias refrained. He refrained, and he waited, for he wanted answers as to why the girl would be so motivated to attack both of them without warning.
As he watched her, Matthias suddenly frowned, wondering if both his ears and eyes had been injured to the extent that they now deceived him. Was the girl... laughing? In spite of the tears that formed in her eyes, in spite of the situation they were all in, the girl would laugh at a time like this?
It was then that the purest form of the girl's hatred was revealed in a spill of words, as Matthias suddenly found himself for some reason being the target of all the accusations the dark-skinned girl was now hurling at him.
People like me...?
Girls like 'her'? Over you?
The girl with the nice personality?
The incredulity of what was happening now sent Matthias into a complete loss of words. Having had all of this...nonsensethrown at him, Matthias was thrown into a state of utter speechlessness, not knowing how in the world to reply to what the girl had to say. The most that Matthias could make of it that the girl was clearly anguished over events in the past, what in the world they could possibly be, Matthias could not guess, nor was he arrogant enough to feel that he had the right to speculate. It was clear that the strange girl, a teenager just like them, was motivated out of some sort of utter hatred and anger...but towards two complete strangers? Was such even possible? It was all beyond the breadth of Matthias' comprehension.
Mercifully, he was spared of the obligation to repond when yet another figure entered the scene, as though out of nowhere. Worse yet, Matthias could see clearly that the newcomer was wielding a knife.
Harsh, hateful words were exhanged between the two strangers, who no doubt knew eachother. Nonetheless, Matthias was very much appalled at the amount of fury and pure venom flung back and forth between the tense exchange.
It was Whitney that drew him away from the verbal faceoff. Matthias came back to his senses as he felt himself being pulled along, away from the scene towards safety. And Whitney did not need to tell him twice. Knowing better than to get mixed up in a catfight that could easily evolve into something particularly unsavory in such circumstances, Matthias turned and broke into a run without a second thought.
All he cared about there and then was getting away, finding safety alongside Whitney. Whether it concerned time or location, he knew not where he would be heading from here on, nor did he care. All that ran throug his minds were thoughts of his own safety, and that of those he held dear to him.
((Continued in Rebirth))
His eyes still burned, and his ears still rang with numbness from the effect of the flashbang, impairing his senses and inducing him to rely mainly on gut instinct to determine what their attacker's next move would be.
Through the redness of his vision, he could just barely discern the large girl staggering back from the force of the impact delivered by the swung dayback. He knew it would never have been enough to take her down completely, but at the very least, it kept her at bay and drove her away from Whitney. And Whitney...it was her whom the attacker targetted first. Matthias had realized this with utter bewilderment and incredulity upon being kicked off, only to see the assailant directing her gaze towards Whitney, intending to attack her with the heavy flashlight...
Why, though? Why Whitney? It was all beyond Matthias' comprehension as to why this strange, heavyset girl who likely had not had a thing to do with Whitney in the past would have the intent to wrack such devastation on a stranger like Whitney. What had Whitney done? Why attack her? Why?
Matthias stepped towards their attacker slightly, placing himself firmly between Whitney and the strange girl, keeping at the defensive. He might have attacked her outright yet again, simply to make sure that, if the first impact only caught her off guard, the second one would stick. But Matthias refrained. He refrained, and he waited, for he wanted answers as to why the girl would be so motivated to attack both of them without warning.
As he watched her, Matthias suddenly frowned, wondering if both his ears and eyes had been injured to the extent that they now deceived him. Was the girl... laughing? In spite of the tears that formed in her eyes, in spite of the situation they were all in, the girl would laugh at a time like this?
It was then that the purest form of the girl's hatred was revealed in a spill of words, as Matthias suddenly found himself for some reason being the target of all the accusations the dark-skinned girl was now hurling at him.
People like me...?
Girls like 'her'? Over you?
The girl with the nice personality?
The incredulity of what was happening now sent Matthias into a complete loss of words. Having had all of this...nonsensethrown at him, Matthias was thrown into a state of utter speechlessness, not knowing how in the world to reply to what the girl had to say. The most that Matthias could make of it that the girl was clearly anguished over events in the past, what in the world they could possibly be, Matthias could not guess, nor was he arrogant enough to feel that he had the right to speculate. It was clear that the strange girl, a teenager just like them, was motivated out of some sort of utter hatred and anger...but towards two complete strangers? Was such even possible? It was all beyond the breadth of Matthias' comprehension.
Mercifully, he was spared of the obligation to repond when yet another figure entered the scene, as though out of nowhere. Worse yet, Matthias could see clearly that the newcomer was wielding a knife.
Harsh, hateful words were exhanged between the two strangers, who no doubt knew eachother. Nonetheless, Matthias was very much appalled at the amount of fury and pure venom flung back and forth between the tense exchange.
It was Whitney that drew him away from the verbal faceoff. Matthias came back to his senses as he felt himself being pulled along, away from the scene towards safety. And Whitney did not need to tell him twice. Knowing better than to get mixed up in a catfight that could easily evolve into something particularly unsavory in such circumstances, Matthias turned and broke into a run without a second thought.
All he cared about there and then was getting away, finding safety alongside Whitney. Whether it concerned time or location, he knew not where he would be heading from here on, nor did he care. All that ran throug his minds were thoughts of his own safety, and that of those he held dear to him.
((Continued in Rebirth))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
It was a relief in and of itself that Whitney was not forced to pry Matthias from the scene of the battle that was about to take place. Given the circumstances, not to mention the fact that Matthias had a good six inches in height and probably thirty or more pounds in weight on her, she physically dragging him away from the fight and through the thousands of stalks of wheat would've been downright impossible. As Matthias broke into a run of his own will, Whitney found herself releasing his wrist and also taking off into a dash.
Beyond it all, only one question rang clearly in her mind... why? Why play the game? Why attack people you didn't even know? Accuse them of crimes they hadn't committed toward you? It didn't make any sense at all. Why not try to form some sort of bond... some sort of alliance... some way to prolong your life in this sick and twisted game? Nothing made sense anymore, and it was that thought alone that frustrated Whitney Acosta to no end.
Feelings of guilt slowly began to rise up in the blonde's chest as she and her companion dashed away from the scene. The black girl was now fighting to defend herself... to defend her life, just as she and Matthias had been doing against their predator-turned-prey only moments before. Would she survive this ordeal? Tanesha's flashbangs might've packed a punch, but they weren't lethal... the "whore" girl's tomahawk and dagger... now those were lethal.
What if she dies?
Whitney Acosta wasn't and had never been a cruel nor spiteful person, and if anything, she couldn't help but feel some sort of guilt and remorse for leaving the African-American girl in the field to confront one of her own foes as well as her inner demons. Of course, Whitney wasn't naive enough to think that the girl could be reasoned with. Judging by her actions only moments prior, she was gone. She was giving in to the game, and she had made her decision before Matthias and Whitney even came along.
Just stop thinking about it.
As the pair retreated through the wheat field, the thoughts wouldn't subside from Whitney's mind. Despite the fact that the very same girl had been resolute on caving in her features into something grotesque mere moments before, Whitney couldn't but feel distressed, and almost saddened by the fact that in essence, she and Matthias were feeding that girl to the wolves... leaving her to die so that they might escape.
It's not right. It's just... not right.
Despite the inner combat her mind was waging against itself, Whitney never faltered in her dash from the field. A very harsh reality was slowly beginning to set in for the blonde girl who never had to deal with pain nor fear nor anguish in her old life. Sorrow and compassion had no place in this game. Despite having always believed that all people -- no matter how evil -- had the potential to do good, Whitney would be forced to forfeit that belief in order to survive this game. Even now, barely into it, she questioned whether or not that was something she would be able to do.
((Continued in: Rebirth))
---
Tanesha Lexx hadn't noticed that Matthias and Whitney had left. At this point, she didn't care. Her gaze fixated itself on the tramp that stood before her. Mariavel disgusted Tanesha. She was a whore among whores, usurping even the Sisterhood in her endeavors. And now... now, the girl had tha audacity to stand in front of Tanesha and deny her actions. Not a whore? Hmph. A virgin, no less? Lies. Mariavel Varella was no virgin.
No virgin flaunts themselves like a damned tramp. No virgin does that. No virgin tries to get attention because of her breasts. No. No virgin does. I'm a virgin. I'm the innocent one, the pure one. Marvin used me... he used me to get what he wanted, but I remained strong! She... she's just a common whore. Belongs out on North 6th Street or something. That's what she is.
"Just a gang whore," Tanesha muttered, a crazed look glistening in her eye as she spoke, "That's all you are. Just a gang whore. Why would you play, whore? What do you have to live for? You have no life to go back to. Nobody's gonna miss you when you're gone. Nobody. Nobody except the guys looking for a prostitute. Rumors have some truth behind them, whore. If they didn't, no one would believe them. You're nothing... just a disgusting piece of trash with nothing to go back to. Nobody wants you back home, that's why they shipped you off. Shipped you off to die on this island!"
Tanesha didn't even falter when Mariavel bore her weapons. The fact remained that at this precise moment in time, all logic and reason had escaped the heavy-set girl, and she was running on nothing more than fear, adrenaline, and raw, pure hatred. Hatred for this girl. Hatred for girls like Whitney. For guys like Matthias. Tanesha hated them all, and beyond all logic or reason, Tanesha wanted them to suffer, and suffer at her hand. Flight-or-fight had long since run its course, and Tanesha had no intentions of running away.
Mariavel charged, weapons at the ready, and Tanesha didn't even flinch. Her adrenaline high was so intense that she saw nothing except the blonde running toward her, and Tanesha, in a bout of insanity, fully believed that she could destroy this girl with her own two hands. This girl needed to shut up. She didn't need to talk anymore, and Tanesha would be more than happy to arrange that, even if she had to shove a flashbang down her throat to get her to stop talking. Nobody cared what Mariavel Varella had to say. She was a nobody, a nothing.
Tanesha smirked at the thought, still standing like a stone statue as the blonde charged violently at her. This girl wasn't even good enough to make it into Ali Grayston's little syndicate of whores. Even the Sisterhood ridiculed and made fun of Mariavel. The only people who wanted anything to do with her were people like Seth Mattlock... common school bullies who just wanted to see a decent rack. Mariavel was disgusting. She was disgusting because she allowed them to use her for that reason. Nobody liked her. Nobody.
"WHORE, WHORE, WHORE!" Tanesha screamed at the top of her lungs as Mariavel closed in.
The vile word that leapt from Tanesha's mouth inevitably turned into a pained scream as the knife slashed her, causing a fit of crimson to pour into the narrow line that had penatrated her clothing and cut down in an arc across her chest. Mariavel's second attack with the axe, however, missed. Why? Well, Tanesha hadn't been anticipating the force of impact with which Mariavel would inevitably hit her. When the had impacted into her, it had sent Tanesha stumbling backwards.
It was supposed to be an intense battle scene between Tanesha Lexx and Mariavel Varella. Heroine versus Villainess in an epic battle to the death -- Tanesha, of course, being the heroine, and the vile boyfriend-stealing whore Mariavel being the evil-doer. Just like in the movies, right? Well, this wasn't a movie, and there would be no such luck. Unfortunately for Mariavel, she had opted to roll around to get behind Tanesha -- a prime choice of maneuvers in most aspects. Unfortunately for Mariavel Varella, Tanesha continued stumbling backwards before inevitably falling -- right where Mariavel lay crouched in wait of another attack.
Beyond it all, only one question rang clearly in her mind... why? Why play the game? Why attack people you didn't even know? Accuse them of crimes they hadn't committed toward you? It didn't make any sense at all. Why not try to form some sort of bond... some sort of alliance... some way to prolong your life in this sick and twisted game? Nothing made sense anymore, and it was that thought alone that frustrated Whitney Acosta to no end.
Feelings of guilt slowly began to rise up in the blonde's chest as she and her companion dashed away from the scene. The black girl was now fighting to defend herself... to defend her life, just as she and Matthias had been doing against their predator-turned-prey only moments before. Would she survive this ordeal? Tanesha's flashbangs might've packed a punch, but they weren't lethal... the "whore" girl's tomahawk and dagger... now those were lethal.
What if she dies?
Whitney Acosta wasn't and had never been a cruel nor spiteful person, and if anything, she couldn't help but feel some sort of guilt and remorse for leaving the African-American girl in the field to confront one of her own foes as well as her inner demons. Of course, Whitney wasn't naive enough to think that the girl could be reasoned with. Judging by her actions only moments prior, she was gone. She was giving in to the game, and she had made her decision before Matthias and Whitney even came along.
Just stop thinking about it.
As the pair retreated through the wheat field, the thoughts wouldn't subside from Whitney's mind. Despite the fact that the very same girl had been resolute on caving in her features into something grotesque mere moments before, Whitney couldn't but feel distressed, and almost saddened by the fact that in essence, she and Matthias were feeding that girl to the wolves... leaving her to die so that they might escape.
It's not right. It's just... not right.
Despite the inner combat her mind was waging against itself, Whitney never faltered in her dash from the field. A very harsh reality was slowly beginning to set in for the blonde girl who never had to deal with pain nor fear nor anguish in her old life. Sorrow and compassion had no place in this game. Despite having always believed that all people -- no matter how evil -- had the potential to do good, Whitney would be forced to forfeit that belief in order to survive this game. Even now, barely into it, she questioned whether or not that was something she would be able to do.
((Continued in: Rebirth))
---
Tanesha Lexx hadn't noticed that Matthias and Whitney had left. At this point, she didn't care. Her gaze fixated itself on the tramp that stood before her. Mariavel disgusted Tanesha. She was a whore among whores, usurping even the Sisterhood in her endeavors. And now... now, the girl had tha audacity to stand in front of Tanesha and deny her actions. Not a whore? Hmph. A virgin, no less? Lies. Mariavel Varella was no virgin.
No virgin flaunts themselves like a damned tramp. No virgin does that. No virgin tries to get attention because of her breasts. No. No virgin does. I'm a virgin. I'm the innocent one, the pure one. Marvin used me... he used me to get what he wanted, but I remained strong! She... she's just a common whore. Belongs out on North 6th Street or something. That's what she is.
"Just a gang whore," Tanesha muttered, a crazed look glistening in her eye as she spoke, "That's all you are. Just a gang whore. Why would you play, whore? What do you have to live for? You have no life to go back to. Nobody's gonna miss you when you're gone. Nobody. Nobody except the guys looking for a prostitute. Rumors have some truth behind them, whore. If they didn't, no one would believe them. You're nothing... just a disgusting piece of trash with nothing to go back to. Nobody wants you back home, that's why they shipped you off. Shipped you off to die on this island!"
Tanesha didn't even falter when Mariavel bore her weapons. The fact remained that at this precise moment in time, all logic and reason had escaped the heavy-set girl, and she was running on nothing more than fear, adrenaline, and raw, pure hatred. Hatred for this girl. Hatred for girls like Whitney. For guys like Matthias. Tanesha hated them all, and beyond all logic or reason, Tanesha wanted them to suffer, and suffer at her hand. Flight-or-fight had long since run its course, and Tanesha had no intentions of running away.
Mariavel charged, weapons at the ready, and Tanesha didn't even flinch. Her adrenaline high was so intense that she saw nothing except the blonde running toward her, and Tanesha, in a bout of insanity, fully believed that she could destroy this girl with her own two hands. This girl needed to shut up. She didn't need to talk anymore, and Tanesha would be more than happy to arrange that, even if she had to shove a flashbang down her throat to get her to stop talking. Nobody cared what Mariavel Varella had to say. She was a nobody, a nothing.
Tanesha smirked at the thought, still standing like a stone statue as the blonde charged violently at her. This girl wasn't even good enough to make it into Ali Grayston's little syndicate of whores. Even the Sisterhood ridiculed and made fun of Mariavel. The only people who wanted anything to do with her were people like Seth Mattlock... common school bullies who just wanted to see a decent rack. Mariavel was disgusting. She was disgusting because she allowed them to use her for that reason. Nobody liked her. Nobody.
"WHORE, WHORE, WHORE!" Tanesha screamed at the top of her lungs as Mariavel closed in.
The vile word that leapt from Tanesha's mouth inevitably turned into a pained scream as the knife slashed her, causing a fit of crimson to pour into the narrow line that had penatrated her clothing and cut down in an arc across her chest. Mariavel's second attack with the axe, however, missed. Why? Well, Tanesha hadn't been anticipating the force of impact with which Mariavel would inevitably hit her. When the had impacted into her, it had sent Tanesha stumbling backwards.
It was supposed to be an intense battle scene between Tanesha Lexx and Mariavel Varella. Heroine versus Villainess in an epic battle to the death -- Tanesha, of course, being the heroine, and the vile boyfriend-stealing whore Mariavel being the evil-doer. Just like in the movies, right? Well, this wasn't a movie, and there would be no such luck. Unfortunately for Mariavel, she had opted to roll around to get behind Tanesha -- a prime choice of maneuvers in most aspects. Unfortunately for Mariavel Varella, Tanesha continued stumbling backwards before inevitably falling -- right where Mariavel lay crouched in wait of another attack.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
The black girl's scream was like ecstasy to Mariavel. Her cry of pain was like music to her ears. Her tormentor.... The she-blob.... She was going to die.... Yes... she was going to kill her... one quick stab to her back.... Then slice her thought with the tomahawk... yeah... that'll work...
At least... hose were her thoughts before she noticed the rotund girl falling... right on top of her! Mariavel dodged to the right, but the girl fell to quickly, causing her to fall onto Mariavel's left ankle. Mariavel yelped in pain and quickly pulled her leg from under the beast. Pain... she hadn't felt it yet in this game. Tanesha Lexx had been the first to cause her pain... that was inexcusable.
"Silly Tanesha... I have the upper hand you see. You lose!" With that said she swung the tomahawk forcefully downwards towards the fatter girl's chest. She had stood up while she was speaking. Her ankle was throbbing with pain. She despised it, pain. It was something that her father was good at causing. The fucker. Tanesha's face slwly mutated in Mariavel's eyes as the tomahawk swung downwards. The face of her father now donned the black girl's frame. yes... Her revenge for him. Grant... He's coming to see you soon. Once I win this thing, he's coming to see you. I'll see you soon big brother... Wait for me there. Now was the time. Do or die. And Mariavel didn't plan on dieing.
((OOC: Sorry it's short. I'm all sick and not really in the RPing mood.
Plus I made some editing too! sorry again!))
At least... hose were her thoughts before she noticed the rotund girl falling... right on top of her! Mariavel dodged to the right, but the girl fell to quickly, causing her to fall onto Mariavel's left ankle. Mariavel yelped in pain and quickly pulled her leg from under the beast. Pain... she hadn't felt it yet in this game. Tanesha Lexx had been the first to cause her pain... that was inexcusable.
"Silly Tanesha... I have the upper hand you see. You lose!" With that said she swung the tomahawk forcefully downwards towards the fatter girl's chest. She had stood up while she was speaking. Her ankle was throbbing with pain. She despised it, pain. It was something that her father was good at causing. The fucker. Tanesha's face slwly mutated in Mariavel's eyes as the tomahawk swung downwards. The face of her father now donned the black girl's frame. yes... Her revenge for him. Grant... He's coming to see you soon. Once I win this thing, he's coming to see you. I'll see you soon big brother... Wait for me there. Now was the time. Do or die. And Mariavel didn't plan on dieing.
((OOC: Sorry it's short. I'm all sick and not really in the RPing mood.
Plus I made some editing too! sorry again!))This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Mitsuko2. 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.
As the heavy girl teetered backward, the former view that she'd had of the sprawling wheat field gradually transformed into bright blue skies. A resounding thud echoed as Tanesha landed, followed by an uttered "oof" from the girl as Mariavel's ankle dug into her back. Adrenaline, fear, and rage had all but dulled away the pain, and Tanesha barely noticed the wound in her chest as the blood flowed freely and painted the surrounding wheat stalks a resilient red in color.
She felt as Mariavel struggled to pull her ankle from underneath Tanesha's immense weight, her foot digging into the black girl's back the entire time. Watching with a tinge of apprehension and regret as the homocidal blonde rose to her feet, Tanesha's eyes widened dramatically when Mariavel once again brandished her weapon, attempting to once again drive it down onto her.
Tanesha might've been overweight, but it didn't stop her from rolling across the ground at the speed of light as the maniacal girl attempted once again to assault her. On a whim, Tanesha couldn't help but think to herself that this was karma coming to bite her in the ass full-force. Unfortunately for Mariavel Varella, Tanesha refused to believe in karma, fate, and destiny... and Mr. Danya was on her side.
The initial wound Mariavel inflicted to Tanesha's chest began to throb dully as the dark-skinned girl clamped on to her daypack for dear life. She knew that inevitably, Mariavel would strike again if she had the chance. Tanesha wasn't going to give her that opportunity. Removing another of the flashbangs from within the confides of her bag, Tanesha gripped it sternly, her gaze deadlocked on the blonde standing before her.
What I wouldn't give to cram this down your fucking throat, you disgusting whore. I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time you've had balls in your mouth. In fact, I'm sure you're quite used to it. Why won't you just die? Die, gang girl whore. Die.
Deep down, the unbridaled hatred that Tanesha held for Mariavel raged on, the only thing that might've been able to quell it being Mariavel's death by her own hand. Tanesha, however, wasn't foolish enough to continue to wage on a battle she would clearly lose. A smirk formed on her features as she held the flashbang in her hand. She looked on at her opponent and winked as she pulled the pin and hurled the grenade directly toward Mariavel.
Tanesha wasn't an athletic person, and she wasn't a fast runner by any means, but the pace at which she retreated through the field, oner arm clutching her bleeding chest tightly as the other clung to the daypack currently smacking her thigh just might have been the quickest that Tanesha Lexx had ever run in her entire life. The "she-blob", as they'd called her teasingly throughout school, darted through the wheat fields, knowing that at such a close range, the flashbang she'd just tossed at Varella would be enough to detour her from following.
((Continued in: If Words Could Kill They Probably Will))
She felt as Mariavel struggled to pull her ankle from underneath Tanesha's immense weight, her foot digging into the black girl's back the entire time. Watching with a tinge of apprehension and regret as the homocidal blonde rose to her feet, Tanesha's eyes widened dramatically when Mariavel once again brandished her weapon, attempting to once again drive it down onto her.
Tanesha might've been overweight, but it didn't stop her from rolling across the ground at the speed of light as the maniacal girl attempted once again to assault her. On a whim, Tanesha couldn't help but think to herself that this was karma coming to bite her in the ass full-force. Unfortunately for Mariavel Varella, Tanesha refused to believe in karma, fate, and destiny... and Mr. Danya was on her side.
The initial wound Mariavel inflicted to Tanesha's chest began to throb dully as the dark-skinned girl clamped on to her daypack for dear life. She knew that inevitably, Mariavel would strike again if she had the chance. Tanesha wasn't going to give her that opportunity. Removing another of the flashbangs from within the confides of her bag, Tanesha gripped it sternly, her gaze deadlocked on the blonde standing before her.
What I wouldn't give to cram this down your fucking throat, you disgusting whore. I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time you've had balls in your mouth. In fact, I'm sure you're quite used to it. Why won't you just die? Die, gang girl whore. Die.
Deep down, the unbridaled hatred that Tanesha held for Mariavel raged on, the only thing that might've been able to quell it being Mariavel's death by her own hand. Tanesha, however, wasn't foolish enough to continue to wage on a battle she would clearly lose. A smirk formed on her features as she held the flashbang in her hand. She looked on at her opponent and winked as she pulled the pin and hurled the grenade directly toward Mariavel.
Tanesha wasn't an athletic person, and she wasn't a fast runner by any means, but the pace at which she retreated through the field, oner arm clutching her bleeding chest tightly as the other clung to the daypack currently smacking her thigh just might have been the quickest that Tanesha Lexx had ever run in her entire life. The "she-blob", as they'd called her teasingly throughout school, darted through the wheat fields, knowing that at such a close range, the flashbang she'd just tossed at Varella would be enough to detour her from following.
((Continued in: If Words Could Kill They Probably Will))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
Mariavel laughed at the girl's pitiful attempts at escape. She moved forward and cringed. Her ankle needed treatment. This had to end here. She prepared to stab the girl quickly but was halted as the Negro woman launched a grenade at her. Mariavel of course knew it was just a flash bang, since she had seen the original flash, so was a bit prepared to take cover.
"Shit." Was all she muttered before diving away from the projectile and burying her face into a pile of dirt. Messy yet effective.
The blast that followed easily took out her hearing. The dirt didn't do much to stop the light from reaching her eyes. When she finally opened them, It was like wearing sunglasses at night. She couldn't see a thing. She felt around for her bag, which she made sure to jump close to, and pulled it towards her. She opened it up and felt around for the med kit. She'd have to wrap the ankle to keep it from getting worse. It was probably sprained. Fucking fat ass.
She found what she was looking for and carefully removed her shoe, still blinded. She wrapped it like her brother once taught her (he majored in medicine) and put her shoe back on. Her sight was back somewhat and she was able to pick up her discarded weapons. She shoved the tomahawk back into its usual place and re-sheathed the knife. She stood carefully and pocketed said knife. She gabbed her bag and hauled ass outta there. She was a sitting duck!
((Continued in The Sands of Time))
"Shit." Was all she muttered before diving away from the projectile and burying her face into a pile of dirt. Messy yet effective.
The blast that followed easily took out her hearing. The dirt didn't do much to stop the light from reaching her eyes. When she finally opened them, It was like wearing sunglasses at night. She couldn't see a thing. She felt around for her bag, which she made sure to jump close to, and pulled it towards her. She opened it up and felt around for the med kit. She'd have to wrap the ankle to keep it from getting worse. It was probably sprained. Fucking fat ass.
She found what she was looking for and carefully removed her shoe, still blinded. She wrapped it like her brother once taught her (he majored in medicine) and put her shoe back on. Her sight was back somewhat and she was able to pick up her discarded weapons. She shoved the tomahawk back into its usual place and re-sheathed the knife. She stood carefully and pocketed said knife. She gabbed her bag and hauled ass outta there. She was a sitting duck!
((Continued in The Sands of Time))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Mitsuko2. 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.
Huy was flat on his stomach. He hadn't moved since he'd woken up, to an unpleasant, deafening noise. Confused and frightened, he'd stayed perfectly still, while the shouting and struggling and yet another crack of something indescernable filled the air around him. Once or twice he was sure they were going to step right on top of him. But they seemed to be gone now, leaving him alone with his immense fear and anger.
'I can't believe they're doing this to us,' he thought, resting his forehead on his hands. '...I can't believe we're doing this to eachother.'
"Shit," he said softly. "Oh, fucking god. This can't be happening." He shuddered, thinking that he might vomit. How could someone do something this heartless? Sickening? Pitting kids against eachother for survival...for a game? "...for a fucking game!?" he screamed into the dirt. Tears began to well up in his eyes, but he held them back and sniffed loudly; there was no time to sit and cry now.
Huy wasn't sure whether he wanted to live or die, but at the moment he wanted to leave this place immediately. He slammed his fist against the cold, hard ground and got cautiously to his feet, sticking his head just barely above the tops of the wheat stalks. Nobody.
"Go," he gasped quietly, grabbing his two bags and making his way swiftly through the tall grass. He was a natural runner, and was in good shape, but right now it felt as if he hadn't been on his feet in a month. He didn't know quite what it was that made his legs ache so much, but that didn't stop him. Huy was a hard kid to beat when he was determined.
He made it to the edge of the wheat field and slowed to a walk for a few feet as he came to the trees, eventually stopping altogether and breathing heavily. Where the hell was he? Did he have a map? Yes he did, he soon discovered as he withdrew it from his assigned daypack. He looked it over. An island. He was on an island.
"This is like a bad horror movie," he whispered, shaking his head. He felt the collar around his neck with his free hand, still studying the map. He felt anxious with it on, like those sick fucks would detonate it whenever was most amusing to them. On the other hand, maybe it would be better than a fate met at the hands of his fellow students. It was obvious; he was going to die here. He glanced at the white sweatband covering his wrist as his hand traced the collar around his neck. He would never go back to that dark place in his mind. Never again.
***
It was 11:30. Huy had been in his room for a couple hours now. No one was home; his parents were picking up the twins from a birthday party, and his older sister was out with "Braaaad". He sat on his bed, in the dark, listening to himself breathe and fiddling around idly with a steak knife. Tomorrow was another full day. He would wake up, go to school, attend basketball practice, have his Vietnamese lesson, a quick dinner, go to work at McDoodle's, come home, do his homework, and go to sleep. Then repeat the whole process the day after. Just thinking about it made him cringe.
He stared at the blade, trying to focus on the bright future ahead of him; the reward of all his hard work. A good job, a nice house, a wife and kids...and a whole fuckload of new responsibilities.
"I can't wait," he grumbled sarcastically. His anger built up inside of him, and he found himself holding his breath until his eyes hurt. Why didn't all the other kids have to try so hard? Why was he always working his ass off? Why didn't--
He gazed down at his wrist, or rather at the long, bleeding gash he'd run right across it. He dropped the steak knife and screamed, darting up off of his bed and looking at the bloody mess in horror. He ran to the bathroom as fast as his legs would carry him, and spent the next half-hour washing and bandaging the cut, applying pressure for another fifteen minutes. When his parents arrived home, Huy told them that he had an accident in the kitchen, and they took him to the hospital for stitches immediately. They didn't ask him about the trail of blood leading from his bed to the bathroom sink.
***
Never again.
Huy crouched on the ground and looked through his bag once more, trying to find the weapon he'd been told about earlier. He didn't want to even think about killing anyone, but at least he could try to ward off attackers. He pulled everything out and shook the bag upside down vigorously. A twig fell from within.
"Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed, dropping the bag. "I didn't get a weapon!"
There must've been some mistake when they were handing them out or something. He doublechecked, but as he predicted there was none to be found. "What the fuck am I gonna do?" he gasped. He checked his map again. There was a large building to the southwest; maybe he could hide out there. Plus, he was on the western side of the wheatfield, and he wasn't going back in there. No fuckin' way. He gathered his supplies back up, shouldered his bags, and began hauling ass south.
((continued elsewhere...))
'I can't believe they're doing this to us,' he thought, resting his forehead on his hands. '...I can't believe we're doing this to eachother.'
"Shit," he said softly. "Oh, fucking god. This can't be happening." He shuddered, thinking that he might vomit. How could someone do something this heartless? Sickening? Pitting kids against eachother for survival...for a game? "...for a fucking game!?" he screamed into the dirt. Tears began to well up in his eyes, but he held them back and sniffed loudly; there was no time to sit and cry now.
Huy wasn't sure whether he wanted to live or die, but at the moment he wanted to leave this place immediately. He slammed his fist against the cold, hard ground and got cautiously to his feet, sticking his head just barely above the tops of the wheat stalks. Nobody.
"Go," he gasped quietly, grabbing his two bags and making his way swiftly through the tall grass. He was a natural runner, and was in good shape, but right now it felt as if he hadn't been on his feet in a month. He didn't know quite what it was that made his legs ache so much, but that didn't stop him. Huy was a hard kid to beat when he was determined.
He made it to the edge of the wheat field and slowed to a walk for a few feet as he came to the trees, eventually stopping altogether and breathing heavily. Where the hell was he? Did he have a map? Yes he did, he soon discovered as he withdrew it from his assigned daypack. He looked it over. An island. He was on an island.
"This is like a bad horror movie," he whispered, shaking his head. He felt the collar around his neck with his free hand, still studying the map. He felt anxious with it on, like those sick fucks would detonate it whenever was most amusing to them. On the other hand, maybe it would be better than a fate met at the hands of his fellow students. It was obvious; he was going to die here. He glanced at the white sweatband covering his wrist as his hand traced the collar around his neck. He would never go back to that dark place in his mind. Never again.
***
It was 11:30. Huy had been in his room for a couple hours now. No one was home; his parents were picking up the twins from a birthday party, and his older sister was out with "Braaaad". He sat on his bed, in the dark, listening to himself breathe and fiddling around idly with a steak knife. Tomorrow was another full day. He would wake up, go to school, attend basketball practice, have his Vietnamese lesson, a quick dinner, go to work at McDoodle's, come home, do his homework, and go to sleep. Then repeat the whole process the day after. Just thinking about it made him cringe.
He stared at the blade, trying to focus on the bright future ahead of him; the reward of all his hard work. A good job, a nice house, a wife and kids...and a whole fuckload of new responsibilities.
"I can't wait," he grumbled sarcastically. His anger built up inside of him, and he found himself holding his breath until his eyes hurt. Why didn't all the other kids have to try so hard? Why was he always working his ass off? Why didn't--
He gazed down at his wrist, or rather at the long, bleeding gash he'd run right across it. He dropped the steak knife and screamed, darting up off of his bed and looking at the bloody mess in horror. He ran to the bathroom as fast as his legs would carry him, and spent the next half-hour washing and bandaging the cut, applying pressure for another fifteen minutes. When his parents arrived home, Huy told them that he had an accident in the kitchen, and they took him to the hospital for stitches immediately. They didn't ask him about the trail of blood leading from his bed to the bathroom sink.
***
Never again.
Huy crouched on the ground and looked through his bag once more, trying to find the weapon he'd been told about earlier. He didn't want to even think about killing anyone, but at least he could try to ward off attackers. He pulled everything out and shook the bag upside down vigorously. A twig fell from within.
"Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed, dropping the bag. "I didn't get a weapon!"
There must've been some mistake when they were handing them out or something. He doublechecked, but as he predicted there was none to be found. "What the fuck am I gonna do?" he gasped. He checked his map again. There was a large building to the southwest; maybe he could hide out there. Plus, he was on the western side of the wheatfield, and he wasn't going back in there. No fuckin' way. He gathered his supplies back up, shouldered his bags, and began hauling ass south.
((continued elsewhere...))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Cyco. 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.