The sun was dawning upon the land has the island itself prepared for the bloodshed to be spilled and the ratings to go up, perhaps a student who had been most prepared for this-Joshua Goodman, was lost in thought has he fiddled with the weapon in his hand. A gun was literally the most powerful thing a man could hold, just pointing it in one direction allowed for the death of a person. One gun. Eleven bullets. Eleven men dead.
The imagery was almost Hallmark worthy.
And so he stood with a silver dollar in one hand and a gun in the other, it truly was an interesting sight has he contemplated his options. Could he go head to head with Danya? Beat the man at his own game and figure out how to beat the collars? With enough corpses and trials, yes Josh felt that he could analyze and find a way out of the game. It would be difficult, but if he tried and succeeded he'd be heralded as a hero when he got home. Then of course there was option two, he could play the game and with his weapon, brains, and strength no doubt come out the victor. Oddly enough even Joshua acknowledged how much easier it would be to kill off his competition, still he needed a proper decision and the white suited boy decided to be fair about it.
He flipped his coin.
Blood Boy never saw it coming as he walked into the area, he was scared, but with his sword barred and upfront to form a defensive position. He hadn't applied any poison yet to his blade, but he was on edge, scared. This game, SOTF, it placed him outside his comfort zone and now he was being paraded not as Blood Boy, but as a number. B27. It sounded cumbersome even in his mind. Still he prepared himself for survival, he had survived murder attempts, he had survived attackers and he would make sure he would survive SOTF. He wondered if Danya would use his name or Blood Boy? He wondered if Danya was even aware of whom he was, but still Blood Boy moved onto the barracks.
The various trip wires where set as he made his way from the barracks towards the forest clearing, in case of someone chasing him he could run into the forest and set off a number of traps, trip wires and stuff that hung from trees that would leave his target hanging upside down and vulnerable. His quick hands and a plethora of fishing line that where meant to be used for magic tricks had helped enough, at least in theory. He felt oddly medieval holding the sword, but as he finally managed to reach a clearing in the forest he found himself looking around erratically until his eyes finally rested upon the tall form of Joshua Goodman. The valedictorian of the school, a business man by nature, and of course someone with a renowned streak of meanness. It was said he fucked Kara Holmes and made Gabe watch.
Of course it was probably an exaggeration, but the point was clear: Josh was mean.
Blood Boy froze even more than he had previously when Joshua turned to him and the yellow eyes narrowed. The pupils became shockingly small as a smile of pure wickedness appeared on his visage, Blood Boy was overwhelmed by an emotion that seemed foreign in recent weeks. He had taken out the biggest kid in the school, fought people tens of times stronger than him and STILL this emotion hadn't appeared: only now was Blood Boy overwhelmed by it. Visibly shaken by the strange elixir known as fear.
"Be careful Mr. Boy, we wouldn't want you to ruin that great pair of Old Navy jeans before the competition got started, would we?"
Josh chuckled lightly as Blood Boy visibly tensed up and prepared to run, Josh immediately stopped laughing and fired at Blood Boy's feet. The bullet landed right at Blood Boy's feet, missing him by mere inches. For a moment Blood Boy was grateful at Josh's inaccuracy and then almost immediately he realized Josh had done this on purpose, pointing his gun at Blood Boy's chest lead Blood Boy to respond almost ridiculously to raise his sword.
"I would say resistance is futile, but that might be a bit too mad scientist for my taste."
"Shut up Goodman," Blood Boy said throwing fear to the wind for a brief moment, "You saw what happened to Troy..." and that's when Blood Boy lost his fire, he didn't know what to follow that up with. Troy was a renowned wuss, Josh? While some say he got his ass kicked by Gabe that night at the Bowling Alley there where also those that said Josh dominated the fight, he was a variable. And his apparent intelligence made him way more of a threat than Boxer's size, the uneasy tension apparent between the two was one-sided as Josh remained calm. Almost as if he was a samurai of some sort.
"I was there Blood Boy, I need not any reminding of your so called skill.", he smirked, "For really it's not that hard to counter people who want to end the fight in one punch. Let's not lie here, your greatest skill is not your fighting ability but surprise, but me? I know everything about you. Your likes, your dislikes, your academic achievements...nothing you can do will surprise me."
Blood Boy almost snorted, now this was a bluff if he had ever heard one. He was shrouded in mystery, the school board had made sure of that. Still, he had to give Josh credit, it was ambitious. The boy perhaps knew that Blood Boy WAS a bit easy to scare, but this obvious bluff had worked against Josh. Blood Boy was now aware he was faking.
"Don't believe me? Nathanial tell me what would I have to gain from lying to a boy who is about to die?"
And that's when it became clear to Blood Boy that there was no other option, Josh of course had known the outcome of this from the beginning. Josh was going to kill Blood Boy, that was the only option. The only ending to this whole thing was Blood Boy's demise and it would be Josh who did him in. They both ran off quick as can be, Josh pointing his gun at the smaller boy, but not firing. That would be a waste of bullets. He had a feeling what Blood Boy was planning: hole himself up and wait for Josh too pass. It would be a traditional siege and Josh would be guaranteed to come out the victor.
And that's when he noticed the fishing line net that had surrounded the jungle leading to what he could assume was the barracks (based on his map), the lines crisscrossed and reflected in the light. Perhaps he had underestimated Blood Boy, or perhaps he had overestimated himself, but for some reason he realized that this would not be as easy as he once believed. These where obvious traps and he noted as Blood Boy got further ahead paying no mind to him that Blood Boy was probably the reason for them, their little game of cat and mouse had just gotten a bit more interesting. Being of scientific mind Josh's first step would be to test the traps and that's when he pulled out his gun and shot the nearest wire.
Snap
Out of the receding brush a milk crate filled with what Josh could only assume was broken glass flung out and towards him at a remarkably fast pace. The trap itself was a simple one, constructed out of a milk crate attached to a spring that would only set lose once a certain wire was set, the milk carton and beer bottles where taken from the barracks, the spring? From a cot Blood Boy had opened up in said barrack. The glass heading towards him caused Josh to jump forward and into several more traps, some caused loops to fling themselves up, some caused branches to fling towards him. Still though, the battered and scared Joshua Goodman ran towards the end of the jungle, the barracks clearly in sight.
BOOM!
He wished he had seen the landmine a second earlier, he wished he had the sense to do something other than jump towards the barracks and instead of Blood Boy seeing a powerful and fearful Goodman exit the brush he merely saw a burnt, bloody, battered, and angry one. Blood Boy shut the door of the barracks as quickly as he could and less than five seconds later he heard the groaning of Josh getting up and running towards the locked door. The slamming of his shoulder and angry cursing of Josh gave Blood Boy some feeling of success, but he was not so naive to think the fight was over yet. In fact it had gotten worse, Blood Boy was now cornered against an angry man with a gun: it would only be a matter of time before the door was broken down and Josh came in to finish him off.
And that's when he looked down and noticed the wires leading to what he could only assume was the underground power lines that had powered up the base at some point. Turning around he also noted the electrical generator, just one switch and Blood Boy could send enough electricity to power up an entire island towards those wires. And that's when the gears started turning, if he could slice the wires and flip the switch that would cause the electricity to go towards Josh and electrocute him. Of course there was one snag, he needed an energy conductor and none where to be found.
"Fuck! C'mon Nate...something that conducts electricity?!" he screamed to himself in desperation, "Metal conducts electricity, so the sword? No, that's not nearly spread out enough I need a puddle of something..." and that's when it hit him, thinking back to all of his science classes in order to get an idea of what exactly was a good conductor he recalled his high school biology class. It was there that he learned that blood due to the hemoglobin (which contained iron) could conduct electricity. He smirked at this, blood? He was literally full of it. A human battery being used for the death of Josh.
He brought his sword up to his face and began cutting softly, at first he was apprehensive and the pain was overwhelming, but he did it anyway. Removing the cartilage surrounding his nose allowed him to breathe freely for the first time in years, his lips where next and then eventually the cheeks and excess skin around his chin. Soon, he reached for his bag and pulled out a bottle of water and began pouring it on the floor, cutting the wires with his sword Blood Boy ran towards the generator when he noticed the first hinge of the door being hit off, his finger on the switch as his new horrifying form was viewable, his mask cast aside. Already he was getting dizzy from blood lost, but it would only be a few seconds before he could patch himself up.
Only a few seconds.
Joshua Goodman was pissed. He had barely missed death due to what he could assume was the delayed reaction of a forty year old landmine and now he found himself slamming against an already lose door. He was close, very close and with one more slam the door busted was lose enough, Josh swinging it open as it fell to the outside of the barracks stepped towards Blood Boy, his gun pointing at him, smiling wickedly.
"It's ove-"
And that's when the boy flipped the switch, and Josh was heard screaming as the electricity poured through him, it was an awful spectacle really. The blood vessels beneath Josh's skin caught on fire as unconsciousness was induced, the organs themselves pretty much burst and as Josh's body spastically danced towards the electricity Blood Boy could only wait for the boy to fall down. That of course would never happen as the very soles of Joshua's shoes had melted into the ground keeping him standing, eventually though the electricity did what Blood Boy had not even assumed could happen and caused the collar to short circuit, bursting Josh's neck as his head rolled towards the ground, Josh dousing Blood Boy in his blood like some sort of sprinkler.
And that's when Blood Boy turned off the generator. Reached into his own pack and pulled out his medical kit, first reaching towards the hydrogen peroxide, he doused his face in it and screamed in pain at the stinging effect. Next he pulled out his bandages and wrapped himself very thoroughly, tightening the bandages to apply pressure towards the wound. Eventually stopping the bleeding. His scars would be worse now, his nose and lips where non-existent, but there was something he had up on at least Josh: he was still alive. He almost looked like a mummy though in his wet bloody clothes and the white bandages surrounding everything but his eyes. Slipping on his mask he reached for the gun that Josh had literally thrown at him when the electricity first occurred.
It was then that Blood Boy put on the latex gloves and began coating his sword with poison, it became clear to him that people where indeed playing the game and he had every intention of making sure that they weren't playing it against him. Even if that meant not trusting anyone and killing them first and asking questions later. With his blade coated in poison, his gun loaded and his wounds taken care of for the moment Blood Boy jumped over the Blood Puddle and towards the outside, Josh of course still remaining headless and standing at the entrance towards the room right next to the actual bedrooms.
It seemed that Josh's statement was a bluff, there where still some things Blood Boy could do to surprise him.
B18-Joshua Goodman-ELIMINATED
Blood and Thunder
Blood and Thunder
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
((As Troy would say, SURPRISE, NIGGA.))
When Reneé Valenti last closed her eyes, she was somewhere near the front of a bus, watching pristine forest greenery go by. She was dressed in a relatively tight short-sleeved shirt, shorts and jeans with hiking boots to top it off, although she also brought a sweater and sweatpants in case things got cole.
When Reneé Valenti opened her eyes, she found herself in her lingerie and gagged, sitting on a cheap chair in a dark room lit by a single incandescent light bulb to reveal blood-spattered tile walls.
She would have easily gotten off her chair were her legs not literally nailed to the chair, and her feet literally not nailed to the floor. She didn't feel any pain from that area, probably because it had already gone numb. Of course, once she had tried (and failed) that, her screams of agony were cut off by the sound of screaming emanating from behind the door in front of her. The only thing she could deduce from that screaming was that the voice was unmistakably male.
Trying to think of who exactly was behind the door made her come close to wetting herself. Wondering if she'd be next finished the job. One thing she could more easily deduce was the person causing the screaming, as soon as the screaming stopped.
The door in front of her suddenly creaked open, causing the maimed redhead to tremble in fear and look away. But as soon as she could hear it close, she didn't stop staring at the person who came out.
The boy in front of her had long, unkempt black hair. He wore nothing save for a pair of boxer briefs, though that was hardly noticeable seeing as how the rest of his body appeared to be splattered with blood. His bare feet made little noise across the wooden floor of whatever-the-fuck-room she was locked inside.
Damien Madison appeared about as old as she was, but not only was he still looking scrawny, the maniacal smile as as innocent and childish as ever.
Damien walked slowly up to her with careful, somewhat baby-like steps, while she never looked away from his innocent, smiling face. Her eyes were probably close to bugging out as he knelt beside her. She was already breathing heavily in her gag. She squinted her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. How she got here was beyond her, but now that karma was coming back around, she could do nothing but face it.
Rather than torture her, however, Damien simply whispered a single word into her ear.
"Boom."
Reneé's jolted back into consciousness at what sounded like am explosion, and her upper body followed suit in a split second. She looked around and checked herself, finding that she was still wearing the same clothes from the bus, minus the cold-weather outfit. She was trying to believe that the environment she'd woken up in was really the camp area where they'd been heading for the senior trip, and that everyone had just gone out for the orientation. She tried to believe that the whole bit about Damien finally coming back for her was just false.
The blood that was polka-dot-splattered all over a few of the little windows in front of her proved otherwise. That and the sound of a single, solitary pair of footsteps from close to the scene.
"Oh God..." she whimpered, as she put a finger up to her cheek, and slid it down. It wasn't long before it found itself touching a little plastic bracer wrapped around her neck.
She wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked gasp that was almost like the squeak of a small, wounded animal. A noise caused her to shift her glance to one of the clearer windows.
She could see someone approaching the window of the bedroom area from her bunk, and without a second thought rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a muffled thud. Thankfully (per se, she wasn't at all thankful she was here), she'd landed right next to her supplies. There was her bag - marked with a large #11 in military stencil - whose contents she wasn't thinking about as she grabbed the other large set of supplies next to her bag. This set happened to be her weapon, a pro archery Mathews Genesis bow and a set of arrows. Unlike the other contestants, she had no time to contemplate how "effective" her weapon was in comparison to what others might have gotten. She simply hoped it worked against whoever was coming in.
Reneé propped the bow up against the bed (to steady her aim somewhat) and loaded an arrow as best as she could in her shaky condition. The bow was lighter than she'd expected, which meant it didn't quite feel like she was holding a streetlight. There was a clear view of the nearest door where she'd seen the killer approach.
She thought up the worst possible scenario...worse than a bloodthirsty jock with a chainsaw. That scenario was indeed Damien (as she hadn't witnessed his death, only reading about it in the news later on), but a moment briefly flashed where she thought up one person who just might have been worse before trying to focus back on her aim.
When Reneé Valenti last closed her eyes, she was somewhere near the front of a bus, watching pristine forest greenery go by. She was dressed in a relatively tight short-sleeved shirt, shorts and jeans with hiking boots to top it off, although she also brought a sweater and sweatpants in case things got cole.
When Reneé Valenti opened her eyes, she found herself in her lingerie and gagged, sitting on a cheap chair in a dark room lit by a single incandescent light bulb to reveal blood-spattered tile walls.
She would have easily gotten off her chair were her legs not literally nailed to the chair, and her feet literally not nailed to the floor. She didn't feel any pain from that area, probably because it had already gone numb. Of course, once she had tried (and failed) that, her screams of agony were cut off by the sound of screaming emanating from behind the door in front of her. The only thing she could deduce from that screaming was that the voice was unmistakably male.
Trying to think of who exactly was behind the door made her come close to wetting herself. Wondering if she'd be next finished the job. One thing she could more easily deduce was the person causing the screaming, as soon as the screaming stopped.
The door in front of her suddenly creaked open, causing the maimed redhead to tremble in fear and look away. But as soon as she could hear it close, she didn't stop staring at the person who came out.
The boy in front of her had long, unkempt black hair. He wore nothing save for a pair of boxer briefs, though that was hardly noticeable seeing as how the rest of his body appeared to be splattered with blood. His bare feet made little noise across the wooden floor of whatever-the-fuck-room she was locked inside.
Damien Madison appeared about as old as she was, but not only was he still looking scrawny, the maniacal smile as as innocent and childish as ever.
Damien walked slowly up to her with careful, somewhat baby-like steps, while she never looked away from his innocent, smiling face. Her eyes were probably close to bugging out as he knelt beside her. She was already breathing heavily in her gag. She squinted her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. How she got here was beyond her, but now that karma was coming back around, she could do nothing but face it.
Rather than torture her, however, Damien simply whispered a single word into her ear.
"Boom."
Reneé's jolted back into consciousness at what sounded like am explosion, and her upper body followed suit in a split second. She looked around and checked herself, finding that she was still wearing the same clothes from the bus, minus the cold-weather outfit. She was trying to believe that the environment she'd woken up in was really the camp area where they'd been heading for the senior trip, and that everyone had just gone out for the orientation. She tried to believe that the whole bit about Damien finally coming back for her was just false.
The blood that was polka-dot-splattered all over a few of the little windows in front of her proved otherwise. That and the sound of a single, solitary pair of footsteps from close to the scene.
"Oh God..." she whimpered, as she put a finger up to her cheek, and slid it down. It wasn't long before it found itself touching a little plastic bracer wrapped around her neck.
She wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked gasp that was almost like the squeak of a small, wounded animal. A noise caused her to shift her glance to one of the clearer windows.
She could see someone approaching the window of the bedroom area from her bunk, and without a second thought rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a muffled thud. Thankfully (per se, she wasn't at all thankful she was here), she'd landed right next to her supplies. There was her bag - marked with a large #11 in military stencil - whose contents she wasn't thinking about as she grabbed the other large set of supplies next to her bag. This set happened to be her weapon, a pro archery Mathews Genesis bow and a set of arrows. Unlike the other contestants, she had no time to contemplate how "effective" her weapon was in comparison to what others might have gotten. She simply hoped it worked against whoever was coming in.
Reneé propped the bow up against the bed (to steady her aim somewhat) and loaded an arrow as best as she could in her shaky condition. The bow was lighter than she'd expected, which meant it didn't quite feel like she was holding a streetlight. There was a clear view of the nearest door where she'd seen the killer approach.
She thought up the worst possible scenario...worse than a bloodthirsty jock with a chainsaw. That scenario was indeed Damien (as she hadn't witnessed his death, only reading about it in the news later on), but a moment briefly flashed where she thought up one person who just might have been worse before trying to focus back on her aim.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.
Blood Boy was perceptive and as he stood outside of the barracks he picked up on the footsteps. It was subtle at first. The snapping of a twig, the huffing of breath, and finally the twang of string being pulled back and it was then that he snapped and like a cat ran towards the direction of whatever was attacking him, his sword and gun raised he turned and found whomever was targeting him. His sword raised and directed towards her throat, his handgun pointing towards her chest.
Renee Valenti, he knew that fiery red hair and stupid reminiscent gaze anywhere. And he immediately visibly sighed as he took the sword away from her throat, but still kept the gun pointed at her, in one instant she could've been killed. He could've done it, hell perhaps he should've. She would do the same for him or at least he thought so.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
He said it bluntly and angrily in a tone almost reminiscent of when he took a stand against those who where profiting from the situation he himself had placed Renee in. If it wasn't for the mask blocking his peripheral he would've stared at Josh's corpse and wonder if Renee herself was staring at it, still though he had to deal with her, either get her on her way, get her to prove her trust worthiness, or eliminate her.
In the long run it didn't really matter.
Renee Valenti, he knew that fiery red hair and stupid reminiscent gaze anywhere. And he immediately visibly sighed as he took the sword away from her throat, but still kept the gun pointed at her, in one instant she could've been killed. He could've done it, hell perhaps he should've. She would do the same for him or at least he thought so.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
He said it bluntly and angrily in a tone almost reminiscent of when he took a stand against those who where profiting from the situation he himself had placed Renee in. If it wasn't for the mask blocking his peripheral he would've stared at Josh's corpse and wonder if Renee herself was staring at it, still though he had to deal with her, either get her on her way, get her to prove her trust worthiness, or eliminate her.
In the long run it didn't really matter.
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
The one problem with believing there was someone out there who was worse than Damien was the possibility that she might have met that very same person. And the one problem with that possibility was that it became very true once Blood Boy stepped into the room. She recognized that mask anywhere - as well as the personality and "events" behind it. It only seemed to make things worse when she noticed that BB had both a sword AND a gun.
Her aim started to wobble as he started to charge toward him. The closing distance would have made her shot more accurate were it not compromised by the fact that she got even more scared as he went toward her. and she ended up letting the arrow fly prematurely. It cruised easily over BB's shoulder as he charged forward, eventually embedding itself in the wall close to the doorway. By the time she could reload he was practically over her, both the sword AND the gun - and her new arrow - in the kill position.
Renee kept herself from screaming. Something deep inside didn't want to let her give BB that one last pleasure before the inevitable. Regardless of whether she fired, he would fire or stab and that was about it. At least when her consciousness had passed on, she wouldn't have to worry about what happened to her corpse. As long as it was quick and (relatively) painless. But rather than fire, the freak lowered his aim and asked angrily,
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
Renee kept her aim tense, looking into the seemingly infinite pools of black that made up the eyes of Blood Boy's mask. After a few seconds though, she too slackened the aim, and sighed. She didn't seem to cry though, almost as if out of acceptance. That still didn't mean she wasn't disturbed by the sight of drying blood that had trickled down BB's neck.
"I...I don't know..." she replied as she loosed the grip on the arrow, though she didn't exactly lower the bow. In the moments of silence that followed, a tear came to her eye, but the sound from her mouth was quite the opposite. It was as if she was chuckling in the face of death in some kind of bizarre acceptance of her predicament.
In the long run, that probably wouldn't have mattered either.
===
Tanya Bonneville stood trembling at the precipice of death. Sort of. She actually stood a fairly safe distance from - yet quite close to - the puddle of electrified blood (those telltale wires and sparks pieced things together quickly) where a burned-hunk corpse now literally stood mounted to it like a twisted piece of abstract art. Waking up in a clearing next to the barracks next to a sign that implied landmines - and to the sound of an explosion - wasn't exactly a good way for the girl to start the day let alone her stint in Survival of the Fittest, especially since despite the fact that they were on a senior trip for camp, she appeared dressed for P.E. class.
God...what the hell is this?! Where the hell am I?!
She held the handle of the hacksaw she was given with both hands and trembled as she started to back away from the puddle. There was a road out of the barracks that led to random places...but at the moment, anywhere was better than here. But as she tried to back away, the corpse seemed to move toward her, and her backwards pace accelerated frantically. Apparently, although the corpse's feet had been melted into the ground, it seemed to bend back at the knees as the burned ligaments and flesh easily tore. She stumbled back onto the ground as the corpse fell back and splashed blood onto her, causing her to whimper, gasp, and try to get back up.
((It's a crappy intro, I know.))
Her aim started to wobble as he started to charge toward him. The closing distance would have made her shot more accurate were it not compromised by the fact that she got even more scared as he went toward her. and she ended up letting the arrow fly prematurely. It cruised easily over BB's shoulder as he charged forward, eventually embedding itself in the wall close to the doorway. By the time she could reload he was practically over her, both the sword AND the gun - and her new arrow - in the kill position.
Renee kept herself from screaming. Something deep inside didn't want to let her give BB that one last pleasure before the inevitable. Regardless of whether she fired, he would fire or stab and that was about it. At least when her consciousness had passed on, she wouldn't have to worry about what happened to her corpse. As long as it was quick and (relatively) painless. But rather than fire, the freak lowered his aim and asked angrily,
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
Renee kept her aim tense, looking into the seemingly infinite pools of black that made up the eyes of Blood Boy's mask. After a few seconds though, she too slackened the aim, and sighed. She didn't seem to cry though, almost as if out of acceptance. That still didn't mean she wasn't disturbed by the sight of drying blood that had trickled down BB's neck.
"I...I don't know..." she replied as she loosed the grip on the arrow, though she didn't exactly lower the bow. In the moments of silence that followed, a tear came to her eye, but the sound from her mouth was quite the opposite. It was as if she was chuckling in the face of death in some kind of bizarre acceptance of her predicament.
In the long run, that probably wouldn't have mattered either.
===
Tanya Bonneville stood trembling at the precipice of death. Sort of. She actually stood a fairly safe distance from - yet quite close to - the puddle of electrified blood (those telltale wires and sparks pieced things together quickly) where a burned-hunk corpse now literally stood mounted to it like a twisted piece of abstract art. Waking up in a clearing next to the barracks next to a sign that implied landmines - and to the sound of an explosion - wasn't exactly a good way for the girl to start the day let alone her stint in Survival of the Fittest, especially since despite the fact that they were on a senior trip for camp, she appeared dressed for P.E. class.
God...what the hell is this?! Where the hell am I?!
She held the handle of the hacksaw she was given with both hands and trembled as she started to back away from the puddle. There was a road out of the barracks that led to random places...but at the moment, anywhere was better than here. But as she tried to back away, the corpse seemed to move toward her, and her backwards pace accelerated frantically. Apparently, although the corpse's feet had been melted into the ground, it seemed to bend back at the knees as the burned ligaments and flesh easily tore. She stumbled back onto the ground as the corpse fell back and splashed blood onto her, causing her to whimper, gasp, and try to get back up.
((It's a crappy intro, I know.))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.
"You're pathetic," Blood Boy said calmly, "I could kill you right now, hell I've already killed, guess that makes me a player, doesn't it? No, I didn't want it, but it's a path you've to deal with the cards god throws at you, the moment that Danya mentions my name on the announcements it's over. People will know not to trust me. You're doomed to play the damn game no matter if you where killing in defense or not."
He shook his head and then smiled a bit, of course it strained his muscles a bit, but still as he pointed his blade at Renee once again and put some pressure upon the trigger of his blade, he couldn't help but hold some maliciousness in his voice. An ally? No, but Renee was a useful tool and Blood Boy was more than willing to exploit a tool, but as he stared at her he couldn't help but shake his head again.
"You owe me a favor if you don't recall," he said calmly, "And I believe that the time is now to exploit on it. From now on you're mine. Your flesh. Your blood. Your life. So, yes for the moment you'll be protected. But, don't get any ideas about me and you being allies: you're a tool and meant to be used. And don't get any ideas about betraying me later on...", he shook his head once again, "Right now, figure out away to prove to me that you're worth keeping alive. Do something that nobody else on this island can so I can see that you're actually worth the space that you inhabit."
He shook his head and then smiled a bit, of course it strained his muscles a bit, but still as he pointed his blade at Renee once again and put some pressure upon the trigger of his blade, he couldn't help but hold some maliciousness in his voice. An ally? No, but Renee was a useful tool and Blood Boy was more than willing to exploit a tool, but as he stared at her he couldn't help but shake his head again.
"You owe me a favor if you don't recall," he said calmly, "And I believe that the time is now to exploit on it. From now on you're mine. Your flesh. Your blood. Your life. So, yes for the moment you'll be protected. But, don't get any ideas about me and you being allies: you're a tool and meant to be used. And don't get any ideas about betraying me later on...", he shook his head once again, "Right now, figure out away to prove to me that you're worth keeping alive. Do something that nobody else on this island can so I can see that you're actually worth the space that you inhabit."
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
((Eddie continued from Everybody Wants to Rule the World))
"You're pathetic. I could kill you right now, hell I've already killed, guess that makes me a player, doesn't it? No, I didn't want it, but it's a path you've to deal with the cards god throws at you, the moment that Danya mentions my name on the announcements it's over. People will know not to trust me. You're doomed to play the damn game no matter if you where killing in defense or not."
That was something she'd understood as it came out of his mouth and through the slots in his smiley-face mask. She didn't trust him one bit. Yes, for all she knew he could have sniped her from the doorway and then killed her upon reaching the bed before she could have even drawn the second arrow. And speaking of that arrow, when once again pulled back on the bow as Blood Boy seemed to want to fire as well. It wasn't until after her aim finally focused that she was aiming straight at a mask that probably wouldn't even crack from an arrow such as the one she was hoping to fire, and it probably didn't even seem to intimidate its target one bit. And yet the masked freak still didn't shoot.
It was then that he put out what was probably going to be the actress' final contract. She listened as he cited it out. There were no loopholes, no technicalities. Either obey or be fired with extreme prejudice.
The redhead didn't beg or plead. It was long since past that time to resist fate. She couldn't hold back on the stress that the immediate situation put on her though. The only problem - it seemed - was finding something useful - and unique - to support him with. Thankfully, there was a more obvious choice than doing what was mostly metaphorically done to get ahead in Hollywood. And that choice wasn't using her arrows. Still, improper use of what she was about to do would get her executed immediately...
"Y...You're right..." began her reluctant reply, sweat beading down her forehead for a moment before a smirk started to form on her face. "I am a tool."
It was a razor-sharp smirk, one that hadn't formed for a long time. "You're not going to...use everyone so easily as you did with me if you don't want to kill them off the bat...I can help with that..."
She didn't sound like it - in fact she had every right to look and sound shit-scared - but if he was going to use her, she might as well do the same in return in the game of death. Of course, hers was more having to do with personal redemption.
===
Tanya was breathing heavily as she struggled to get back up onto her feet, drops of blood-mixed-with-water staining her clothing. The mere idea being of one of the girls who nearly won the most vicious race for Prom Queen in Southridge History thrown into a contest where - while there was still one winner - losers didn't exactly get words of condolence. She managed to get up at least to her hands and knees to run, but wasn't able to start running quite yet.
Her eyes came to rest on a pair of sneakers, which - as she got up - were attached to a pair of rather loose but gray jeans, under a torso wearing a gray shirt. As she got up to kneeling - clutching the hacksaw's handle, she also noticed him leaning a rather long Highlander-esque sword on his shoulder, causing her to tremble as she looked up at the face of the newcomer.
"...Eddie?" she whimpered...
"You're pathetic. I could kill you right now, hell I've already killed, guess that makes me a player, doesn't it? No, I didn't want it, but it's a path you've to deal with the cards god throws at you, the moment that Danya mentions my name on the announcements it's over. People will know not to trust me. You're doomed to play the damn game no matter if you where killing in defense or not."
That was something she'd understood as it came out of his mouth and through the slots in his smiley-face mask. She didn't trust him one bit. Yes, for all she knew he could have sniped her from the doorway and then killed her upon reaching the bed before she could have even drawn the second arrow. And speaking of that arrow, when once again pulled back on the bow as Blood Boy seemed to want to fire as well. It wasn't until after her aim finally focused that she was aiming straight at a mask that probably wouldn't even crack from an arrow such as the one she was hoping to fire, and it probably didn't even seem to intimidate its target one bit. And yet the masked freak still didn't shoot.
It was then that he put out what was probably going to be the actress' final contract. She listened as he cited it out. There were no loopholes, no technicalities. Either obey or be fired with extreme prejudice.
The redhead didn't beg or plead. It was long since past that time to resist fate. She couldn't hold back on the stress that the immediate situation put on her though. The only problem - it seemed - was finding something useful - and unique - to support him with. Thankfully, there was a more obvious choice than doing what was mostly metaphorically done to get ahead in Hollywood. And that choice wasn't using her arrows. Still, improper use of what she was about to do would get her executed immediately...
"Y...You're right..." began her reluctant reply, sweat beading down her forehead for a moment before a smirk started to form on her face. "I am a tool."
It was a razor-sharp smirk, one that hadn't formed for a long time. "You're not going to...use everyone so easily as you did with me if you don't want to kill them off the bat...I can help with that..."
She didn't sound like it - in fact she had every right to look and sound shit-scared - but if he was going to use her, she might as well do the same in return in the game of death. Of course, hers was more having to do with personal redemption.
===
Tanya was breathing heavily as she struggled to get back up onto her feet, drops of blood-mixed-with-water staining her clothing. The mere idea being of one of the girls who nearly won the most vicious race for Prom Queen in Southridge History thrown into a contest where - while there was still one winner - losers didn't exactly get words of condolence. She managed to get up at least to her hands and knees to run, but wasn't able to start running quite yet.
Her eyes came to rest on a pair of sneakers, which - as she got up - were attached to a pair of rather loose but gray jeans, under a torso wearing a gray shirt. As she got up to kneeling - clutching the hacksaw's handle, she also noticed him leaning a rather long Highlander-esque sword on his shoulder, causing her to tremble as she looked up at the face of the newcomer.
"...Eddie?" she whimpered...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.
OoC- Sorry for the delay, really, a very busy weekend...
"I am fully capable of killing someone by myself," Blood Boy sighed calmly, "I've come to a rather shocking conclusion: killing is difficult. And it's difficult because it's shockingly easy...", he shook his head a little bit, "If I do this by myself, I'm not going to make it out of this thing sane if I don't have some company and you're right, I may be uneducated...but I'm not stupid, doing this by myself..."
He paused deciding how he could word himself, he then clasped his hands together for a moment the sword and gun hitting each other.
"Risking your life and doing something that could easily rob you of your life are exact opposites," he smiled through his masks, "What I mean to say is that outwardly playing the game will get you killed and really, trying so hard to kill everyone who comes puts you at a much bigger risk...", he lifted up his mask to reveal his face to Renee once again, his cool brown eyes reflecting a sense of merriment that made the blood splattered all over his body seem almost macabre in nature. His new face, his new face was wrapped in gauze, when he smiled? When he smiled as clearly as he did now the dark crimson of blood became visible. He didn't have to say it. It had become clear that he had removed his entire face in order to kill his opponent.
"By trying too hard, we put ourselves at a greater risk. Don't you think so?"
He shook his head and then calmly pointed the gun back to her, pacing around as if he was going about business.
"I honestly do not think that you've killed yet, but who knows I already have and you could've done it just as quickly...I personally wouldn't want you to be hiding any sort of weapon...", he brought his mask down, "Do you want to poison those arrows of yours?"
"I am fully capable of killing someone by myself," Blood Boy sighed calmly, "I've come to a rather shocking conclusion: killing is difficult. And it's difficult because it's shockingly easy...", he shook his head a little bit, "If I do this by myself, I'm not going to make it out of this thing sane if I don't have some company and you're right, I may be uneducated...but I'm not stupid, doing this by myself..."
He paused deciding how he could word himself, he then clasped his hands together for a moment the sword and gun hitting each other.
"Risking your life and doing something that could easily rob you of your life are exact opposites," he smiled through his masks, "What I mean to say is that outwardly playing the game will get you killed and really, trying so hard to kill everyone who comes puts you at a much bigger risk...", he lifted up his mask to reveal his face to Renee once again, his cool brown eyes reflecting a sense of merriment that made the blood splattered all over his body seem almost macabre in nature. His new face, his new face was wrapped in gauze, when he smiled? When he smiled as clearly as he did now the dark crimson of blood became visible. He didn't have to say it. It had become clear that he had removed his entire face in order to kill his opponent.
"By trying too hard, we put ourselves at a greater risk. Don't you think so?"
He shook his head and then calmly pointed the gun back to her, pacing around as if he was going about business.
"I honestly do not think that you've killed yet, but who knows I already have and you could've done it just as quickly...I personally wouldn't want you to be hiding any sort of weapon...", he brought his mask down, "Do you want to poison those arrows of yours?"
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
"If I do this by myself, I'm not going to make it out of this thing sane if I don't have some company and you're right, I may be uneducated...but I'm not stupid, doing this by myself..."
Renee only let down her aim just a bit as BB let his off. She still kept her hands grasping the bow and arrow just in case.
"Risking your life and doing something that could easily rob you of your life are exact opposites."
She had started to mentally brace herself as Blood Boy removed his mask...only to see his face wrapped completely in gauze, more like Darkman than when he'd first unmasked himself to her all those weeks ago. And truth be told, it scared her. The blood all over his face could easily have implied that he was responsible for the screaming and explosion that woke her up.
"By trying too hard, we put ourselves at a greater risk. Don't you think so?" he asked, to which she could only nod. He reset his mask and resumed aiming, to which she returned the favor. She had managed to steady her aim somewhat...but that was mostly negated once she saw that look of merriment in his eyes.
"I honestly do not think that you've killed yet, but who knows I already have and you could've done it just as quickly...I personally wouldn't want you to be hiding any sort of weapon...", BB continued. "Do you want to poison those arrows of yours?"
Renee was about to answer. She gave another, slightly frantic nod as soon as she heard screaming outside, her gaze sometimes flickering to the door. This time, the screaming was feminine...
==
Eddie looked into Tanya's eyes they seemed to bug out. The struggle had been short and swift; the tension had snapped her quickly, and she had lunged at him only to be crudely kicked back. She was able to balance herself...but not quick enough. Eddie's Highlander sword had gone clean (as it were) through her, scraping against her ribcage and very likely piercing into a lung, but she was looking straight into Eddie's eyes. They didn't glow red with some evil glow, but perhaps their "evil" was in the fact that they seemed to be a sleepy, normal stare. And indeed there was calm...one accentuated when her hacksaw fell out of her hand and clinked against the ground.
She was popular and friendly. She going to be a famous actress like Renee was, and she believed that people would respect her for who she was rather than what she naturally had. She'd never expected to be a piece of meat on someone's literal kebab. To Eddie, that's who she was, and that was much more than he believed he ever could have been back in sunny California. The problem now was that the meat was uncooked.
With a kick worthy of King Leonidas, Eddie pushed Tanya off of his sword. He could feel a bit of vibration as the sword exited from the direction it entered, rubbing against Tanya's ribcage in the process, before tumbling back and landing on his rear from the weight of the sword coming back at his lean build faster than he'd thought. The bleeding and gurgling Tanya stumbled backward (again) and fell backwards into the blood pool. She didn't scream much as the electricity did the rest, though Eddie was too busy watching her spasm and flail to figure out if she was already finished off before she splashed into the puddle. Of course, it turned out her corpse didn't cook as thoroughly as whoever it was had been fried in the blood pool seemingly moments before (the smell was still rank in his nasal cavity.) That didn't stop him from having a little humor at Tanya's expense...even if the force of the kick combined with his lean, light build caused him to tumble back to a sitting position.
"Original recipe or extra crispy?" he muttered to himself as she fried next to the other, already-burnt cadaver. It was a racist joke, but then again, the answer to that question wasn't something he wanted to find out. Not that he could have even if he wanted to, the thought dissipated as the surge of electricity shot into her collar, detonating it. The blast caused him to wince and fall onto his back.
G18 - Bonneville, T - WASTED
Not that he was any closer to finding out what he really wanted to know. The first thing he did once he regained some sense of orientation was to reach for his sword while still face-up on the soil. Once he found its hilt he grabbed it and forced himself to roll over and onto it, before rolling completely over with the sword firmly in his grasp. He sat up to look at his handiwork, but couldn't see much, having to squint from the mix of rank odors that racked his sinuses. Still, an explosion like that was bound to have woken up whoever might have been slumbering within the other barracks buildings...including whoever might have set that trap.
Eddie got to his feet, using the sword to prop himself up. Unfortunately for him, Tanya had taken the hacksaw to her demise in the pool of electrified water-and-plasma.
"Stupid to hang around..." he muttered, as he trudged off into the alley between the barracks buildings. Where he went later on was only his guess.
((Continued in From Serenity to Shame))
Renee only let down her aim just a bit as BB let his off. She still kept her hands grasping the bow and arrow just in case.
"Risking your life and doing something that could easily rob you of your life are exact opposites."
She had started to mentally brace herself as Blood Boy removed his mask...only to see his face wrapped completely in gauze, more like Darkman than when he'd first unmasked himself to her all those weeks ago. And truth be told, it scared her. The blood all over his face could easily have implied that he was responsible for the screaming and explosion that woke her up.
"By trying too hard, we put ourselves at a greater risk. Don't you think so?" he asked, to which she could only nod. He reset his mask and resumed aiming, to which she returned the favor. She had managed to steady her aim somewhat...but that was mostly negated once she saw that look of merriment in his eyes.
"I honestly do not think that you've killed yet, but who knows I already have and you could've done it just as quickly...I personally wouldn't want you to be hiding any sort of weapon...", BB continued. "Do you want to poison those arrows of yours?"
Renee was about to answer. She gave another, slightly frantic nod as soon as she heard screaming outside, her gaze sometimes flickering to the door. This time, the screaming was feminine...
==
Eddie looked into Tanya's eyes they seemed to bug out. The struggle had been short and swift; the tension had snapped her quickly, and she had lunged at him only to be crudely kicked back. She was able to balance herself...but not quick enough. Eddie's Highlander sword had gone clean (as it were) through her, scraping against her ribcage and very likely piercing into a lung, but she was looking straight into Eddie's eyes. They didn't glow red with some evil glow, but perhaps their "evil" was in the fact that they seemed to be a sleepy, normal stare. And indeed there was calm...one accentuated when her hacksaw fell out of her hand and clinked against the ground.
She was popular and friendly. She going to be a famous actress like Renee was, and she believed that people would respect her for who she was rather than what she naturally had. She'd never expected to be a piece of meat on someone's literal kebab. To Eddie, that's who she was, and that was much more than he believed he ever could have been back in sunny California. The problem now was that the meat was uncooked.
With a kick worthy of King Leonidas, Eddie pushed Tanya off of his sword. He could feel a bit of vibration as the sword exited from the direction it entered, rubbing against Tanya's ribcage in the process, before tumbling back and landing on his rear from the weight of the sword coming back at his lean build faster than he'd thought. The bleeding and gurgling Tanya stumbled backward (again) and fell backwards into the blood pool. She didn't scream much as the electricity did the rest, though Eddie was too busy watching her spasm and flail to figure out if she was already finished off before she splashed into the puddle. Of course, it turned out her corpse didn't cook as thoroughly as whoever it was had been fried in the blood pool seemingly moments before (the smell was still rank in his nasal cavity.) That didn't stop him from having a little humor at Tanya's expense...even if the force of the kick combined with his lean, light build caused him to tumble back to a sitting position.
"Original recipe or extra crispy?" he muttered to himself as she fried next to the other, already-burnt cadaver. It was a racist joke, but then again, the answer to that question wasn't something he wanted to find out. Not that he could have even if he wanted to, the thought dissipated as the surge of electricity shot into her collar, detonating it. The blast caused him to wince and fall onto his back.
G18 - Bonneville, T - WASTED
Not that he was any closer to finding out what he really wanted to know. The first thing he did once he regained some sense of orientation was to reach for his sword while still face-up on the soil. Once he found its hilt he grabbed it and forced himself to roll over and onto it, before rolling completely over with the sword firmly in his grasp. He sat up to look at his handiwork, but couldn't see much, having to squint from the mix of rank odors that racked his sinuses. Still, an explosion like that was bound to have woken up whoever might have been slumbering within the other barracks buildings...including whoever might have set that trap.
Eddie got to his feet, using the sword to prop himself up. Unfortunately for him, Tanya had taken the hacksaw to her demise in the pool of electrified water-and-plasma.
"Stupid to hang around..." he muttered, as he trudged off into the alley between the barracks buildings. Where he went later on was only his guess.
((Continued in From Serenity to Shame))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.
Blood Boy had heard an all familiar sound that would stick with him for the rest of his life, also he smelt something even more foreboding: the smell of burning flesh paired with a small stench of electricity and burnt rubber. Also the screams and the scuffling of shoes, it could only mean one thing: death had returned to the barracks and that's when he stared at Renee and coolly spoke.
"We go our separate ways for the moment," he said calmly, "Prove to me that you're fit to survive by surviving on your own for a single day," he said calmly, "If we do see each other again after a day as passed I'll make sure to take care of you, if I see you before..." he hesitated with his last words, "I'll kill you without hesitation because I can only assume that you're trying to buy my trust in order to kill me: face it half the school -including yourself- wanted to beat me up beforehand, now that they can kill me?"
He smirked a bit as he walked forward a few feet and aimed his gun at her knee cap and fired mercilessly. Turning back not even trying to notice if the bullet hit or not he said calmly...
"For the moment, we both walk alone."
((Continued in: Lost))
"We go our separate ways for the moment," he said calmly, "Prove to me that you're fit to survive by surviving on your own for a single day," he said calmly, "If we do see each other again after a day as passed I'll make sure to take care of you, if I see you before..." he hesitated with his last words, "I'll kill you without hesitation because I can only assume that you're trying to buy my trust in order to kill me: face it half the school -including yourself- wanted to beat me up beforehand, now that they can kill me?"
He smirked a bit as he walked forward a few feet and aimed his gun at her knee cap and fired mercilessly. Turning back not even trying to notice if the bullet hit or not he said calmly...
"For the moment, we both walk alone."
((Continued in: Lost))
"My man got too familiar and I’d ended up having to whoop his ass, man, you know. Because he would step across the line. Habitually. He’s a habitual line stepper.” -Charlie Murphy
V8 Relationship Thread
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
Slidin'
Lookin' for the opps, they been hidin'
I grew up 'round drugs, sex, and violence
We turnt off they street, we heard sirens
Since a juvenile, I been wylin'
"If we do see each other again after a day as passed I'll make sure to take care of you, if I see you before...I'll kill you without hesitation because I can only assume that you're trying to buy my trust in order to kill me: face it half the school -including yourself- wanted to beat me up beforehand, now that they can kill me?"
The way he turned to her as if to fire - and then living up to that impression - caused her to drop her aim and seal her eyes shut as she turned away and tried to duck below the bed to block his aim.
Fuck! Not now!
She heard a loud bang, followed by her gasping. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, as the revitalized scent of burned flesh eventually made its way to her too. But she didn't feel any pain by her kneecap.
"For the moment, we both walk alone."
She opened her eyes just a bit, and saw his figure walking away. She could also just make out her now frozen grip on the bow and arrow just off to the right of her limited peripheral vision. But she didn't quite open them until he was close to the doorway.
She slowly started to kneel, and it was while she was doing so that she didn't feel like she only had half a leg, and the only major throbbing was her heart in her chest from the rush of the previous moments. As she finally opened her eyes, she noticed the only hole the bullet made was in the floor, dangerously close to where she had been sitting beforehand. Her knees were fine...though her instincts were still fairly fragmented. In fact, she suddenly lunged on top of the bed and aimed the bow and arrow in BB's direction, ready to fire with his back turned.
Just as well, BB was already long gone. She could hear footsteps in the distance slowly heading away, and slumped back against the bed, sighing.
The afternoon was already starting to give way to night, and the sky was going a bright red. Renee Valenti would have to survive without him until the sky started to go red again. And yet it was a prospect she only half-dreaded, not necessarily for fear of having to go it alone but for fear of him encountering her first and killing her before she noticed he was around. She slowly caught her breath as she looked out the windows at the sky, and once she had done so she got up and gathered up her supplies. She had trouble standing on her own two feet, particularly because she hadn't actually been standing since she got on the bus that fateful night.
It was a wobbly walk to the doorway with her bow and arrows container properly slung, but she managed to steady herself. The last thing she noticed before she left was the first arrow she fired out of her own desperation.
She didn't want to take it with her. She wanted to leave it behind as much as she wanted to leave her encounter with BB behind...at least for the next 24 hours.
((Renée continued elsewhere.))
The way he turned to her as if to fire - and then living up to that impression - caused her to drop her aim and seal her eyes shut as she turned away and tried to duck below the bed to block his aim.
Fuck! Not now!
She heard a loud bang, followed by her gasping. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, as the revitalized scent of burned flesh eventually made its way to her too. But she didn't feel any pain by her kneecap.
"For the moment, we both walk alone."
She opened her eyes just a bit, and saw his figure walking away. She could also just make out her now frozen grip on the bow and arrow just off to the right of her limited peripheral vision. But she didn't quite open them until he was close to the doorway.
She slowly started to kneel, and it was while she was doing so that she didn't feel like she only had half a leg, and the only major throbbing was her heart in her chest from the rush of the previous moments. As she finally opened her eyes, she noticed the only hole the bullet made was in the floor, dangerously close to where she had been sitting beforehand. Her knees were fine...though her instincts were still fairly fragmented. In fact, she suddenly lunged on top of the bed and aimed the bow and arrow in BB's direction, ready to fire with his back turned.
Just as well, BB was already long gone. She could hear footsteps in the distance slowly heading away, and slumped back against the bed, sighing.
The afternoon was already starting to give way to night, and the sky was going a bright red. Renee Valenti would have to survive without him until the sky started to go red again. And yet it was a prospect she only half-dreaded, not necessarily for fear of having to go it alone but for fear of him encountering her first and killing her before she noticed he was around. She slowly caught her breath as she looked out the windows at the sky, and once she had done so she got up and gathered up her supplies. She had trouble standing on her own two feet, particularly because she hadn't actually been standing since she got on the bus that fateful night.
It was a wobbly walk to the doorway with her bow and arrows container properly slung, but she managed to steady herself. The last thing she noticed before she left was the first arrow she fired out of her own desperation.
She didn't want to take it with her. She wanted to leave it behind as much as she wanted to leave her encounter with BB behind...at least for the next 24 hours.
((Renée continued elsewhere.))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.