((B067 Ramsey Cortez - Game Start))
Ramsey couldn't take it anymore. He had to stop. As soon as he entered the musty building, he threw the bigass sack of marshmallows and the duffel bags on the ground and rolled out his shoulders. He pushed the heavy front doors closed, leaving the only light in the shrine trickling in from the the ceiling, the holes along the walls, and the bare side entrance near the back of the room. And then he just collapsed face first on top of the marshmallow bag.
This whole thing was wiggity wiggity wack, yo. But honestly, like real shit? Ramsey didn't feel nothing. Crying wasn't gonna fix nothin'. Neither was throwing shit everywhere in rage. Certainly wasn't happy about this whole predicament. He knew he was supposed to feel something. But he just didn't; if anything, he just felt tired.
Would be nice to know why God decided to send him to murder island, but they said he did work in mysterious ways. Maybe there was a reason Ramsey was here. Or maybe this was his overdue punishment. He vibed with either.
In any case, he was alive, and he was all right. Mostly. He'd be fine after knowing his sis and Ace were fine. But he just needed a damn break right now. Carrying like 50 lbs of shit made him feel like a pack mule, but he wasn't boutta drop 40 lbs of Lucky Charm marshmallows like it was a hot potato. This the kinda shit he dreamed of when he was like 9 years old, he was gonna fucking enjoy it.
He flopped back over on top of the marshmallow bean bag, scooching over so he could unravel the top of the bag. He dug in the opening and groped around with his grubby, sweaty hand and threw a handful of the sticky treats in the air that either landed in his mouth or (mostly) scattered on the floor. And then he did it again, and he did it once more.
This was harder than it looked.
They're Magically Delicious!
Open, Day 1
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Jan de Witt
- Posts: 97
- Joined: Mon Apr 29, 2019 2:19 pm
(B074 - Theophilus "Theo" Walterson - V7 Start)
Despite the relatively quiet position he had woken up from, against the walls of an ornately painted building, Theo had panicked almost immediately, desperately searching his bags for some sign of hope. His books had been taken, replaced by a pamphlet grandiosely entitled "Mr. Danya's Guide to Survival" and what appeared to be a rifle of some kind. His spirits lifted somewhat, only to fall once more when he discovered that the Guide was just a repeat of what everyone already knew. They collapsed completely once he discovered that his rifle was of the parade ground type: useful for choreographed dance, perhaps, but mostly useless in the field of combat.
At that, he wept freely. Forced into a death game with the rest of his classmates, it wasn't hard to see that he was almost certainly not going to be the one coming out on top. In a game where every advantage mattered, he didn't think that a quiet demeanor and intimate knowledge of Romanticism particularly increased his chances of survival. Collecting himself somewhat, he looked around.
He was clearly in a rather high area, and from here he could see a mansion surrounded by a semicircle of smaller houses. He checked his map and decided he must have been placed near the island temple, facing the rather extravagantly named Inner Circle.
Theo entered the temple shakily and sat down of one of the dirty pillows provided. Noticing someone he had not recognized, he desperately wished he had been more socially active when he had the chance. Not seeing any notable weapons, he decided to call out and clear up any misunderstandings quickly. "Um, hello! What's your name?"
Despite the relatively quiet position he had woken up from, against the walls of an ornately painted building, Theo had panicked almost immediately, desperately searching his bags for some sign of hope. His books had been taken, replaced by a pamphlet grandiosely entitled "Mr. Danya's Guide to Survival" and what appeared to be a rifle of some kind. His spirits lifted somewhat, only to fall once more when he discovered that the Guide was just a repeat of what everyone already knew. They collapsed completely once he discovered that his rifle was of the parade ground type: useful for choreographed dance, perhaps, but mostly useless in the field of combat.
At that, he wept freely. Forced into a death game with the rest of his classmates, it wasn't hard to see that he was almost certainly not going to be the one coming out on top. In a game where every advantage mattered, he didn't think that a quiet demeanor and intimate knowledge of Romanticism particularly increased his chances of survival. Collecting himself somewhat, he looked around.
He was clearly in a rather high area, and from here he could see a mansion surrounded by a semicircle of smaller houses. He checked his map and decided he must have been placed near the island temple, facing the rather extravagantly named Inner Circle.
Theo entered the temple shakily and sat down of one of the dirty pillows provided. Noticing someone he had not recognized, he desperately wished he had been more socially active when he had the chance. Not seeing any notable weapons, he decided to call out and clear up any misunderstandings quickly. "Um, hello! What's your name?"
At the unexpected call, Ramsey flinched and rolled off the bag. The top of the bag rolled with him, and marshmallows poured out on him and on the floor despite the resistance and flailing he gave.
Once the avalanche stopped he took a moment to just breathe before pushing himself back up and realigning the top of the bag "...Thanks, man, I appresh," he grumbled, stuffing as much of the 'still good' marshmallows back into the bag as he could save.
...Then again, it wasn't really this guy's fault entirely. So Ramsey threw out a "Sorry." for good measure.
But he didn't see the rifle until he got a second look at the guy; he immediately froze save for the finger he pointed with. "...W-what you got there?"
Once the avalanche stopped he took a moment to just breathe before pushing himself back up and realigning the top of the bag "...Thanks, man, I appresh," he grumbled, stuffing as much of the 'still good' marshmallows back into the bag as he could save.
...Then again, it wasn't really this guy's fault entirely. So Ramsey threw out a "Sorry." for good measure.
But he didn't see the rifle until he got a second look at the guy; he immediately froze save for the finger he pointed with. "...W-what you got there?"
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Jan de Witt
- Posts: 97
- Joined: Mon Apr 29, 2019 2:19 pm
As the boy (he was pretty sure the person was male, at least looking from this angle) fell from the oddly-shaped pillow he was sitting on, Theo felt a sudden flush of embarrassment. He apologized weakly, bowing his head in shame. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were sitting on something."
Then the other boy said something about his bag, no, his weapon. In that instant, he realized that although his rifle lacked the actual capacity to shoot anyone, this did not, in fact, detract from its appearance. Even at a modest distance, anyone not paying close attention would be unlikely to notice the fact it was unusable.
Carefully, but not entirely successfully, keeping his delight off his face, Theo placed the gun under his bags. No need to let anyone else take too close of a look at his "weapon". "Oh, this? It's just a rifle. If it's making you feel nervous, I'll stow it away again."
He turned to face him. "So, anyway, what's your name?"
Then the other boy said something about his bag, no, his weapon. In that instant, he realized that although his rifle lacked the actual capacity to shoot anyone, this did not, in fact, detract from its appearance. Even at a modest distance, anyone not paying close attention would be unlikely to notice the fact it was unusable.
Carefully, but not entirely successfully, keeping his delight off his face, Theo placed the gun under his bags. No need to let anyone else take too close of a look at his "weapon". "Oh, this? It's just a rifle. If it's making you feel nervous, I'll stow it away again."
He turned to face him. "So, anyway, what's your name?"
He threw the rifle under his bags, so that was a good sign? At least this dude didn't default to guns blazing, which given a lot of people at this school was saying a lot. "Nah, you're fine, man."
Ramsey finished picking up as much marshmallows as he could safely guess were still good, and tied the bag up and clapped his hands together to get off as much of the sticky residue as he could.
"It's Ramsey. You're... uhm...?" Ramsey's eyes darted around the boy, trying to put a name to the face and body. Maybe it was the whole knockout gas thing, but he really just couldn't get anything surfacing in his mind. In hindsight, did this guy even go to their school?
Ramsey finished picking up as much marshmallows as he could safely guess were still good, and tied the bag up and clapped his hands together to get off as much of the sticky residue as he could.
"It's Ramsey. You're... uhm...?" Ramsey's eyes darted around the boy, trying to put a name to the face and body. Maybe it was the whole knockout gas thing, but he really just couldn't get anything surfacing in his mind. In hindsight, did this guy even go to their school?
G037 MERCY AMES: START
There was a rising sun over the temple's front doors. It was kind of nice, artistically. Mercy wished she could look at it without her hands shaking.
She'd woken up somewhere in the woods and stumbled around for a while, constantly moving, because if she stopped moving, she'd have to think. The shape of the temple rising into view by the cliffs had called to her. She'd tried to rummage in her bag while walking, seeking out the shape of her camera, anything normal, but it was gone.
All her memories from D.C., gone. All potential mementos of her here, taken away before she could make them.
Mercy stood outside the temple, and she hadn't yet decided if she wanted to pray or to find something that she could take out her feelings on. She'd never been very good at the whole beating-things-up part, if she was being honest. Not quite up to the point where she could break boards with her bare hands, but maybe she could throw a rock through a window or something, if the windows weren't very nice.
The doors beneath the painted sunrise were heavy, sitting on rusted hinges, and they weren't very responsive when she finally decided to push them open. Mercy huffed and leaned her shoulder into it, getting a stubborn creak and little more.
"Come on, you..." she muttered. The door did not respond.
Mercy stepped back with another, sharper huff. She wanted in. She wanted to sit down and maybe take in a little bit of peace and beauty before she had to think. Or pace around and take in the beauty, since she still didn't want to stop moving for too long yet. Steeling herself, Mercy gave the door another firm shove, and got another bunch of nothing for it.
"Ugh!" Mercy stepped back and dropped her bags. Planting her left foot, she raised the right one, and with a shout - more out of habit than real anger - delivered a push kick to the center of the door and oh ow bad idea. She'd never done that with such a solid target before, and now she knew why that was.
The door creaked mockingly open in the wake of the kick.
There was a rising sun over the temple's front doors. It was kind of nice, artistically. Mercy wished she could look at it without her hands shaking.
She'd woken up somewhere in the woods and stumbled around for a while, constantly moving, because if she stopped moving, she'd have to think. The shape of the temple rising into view by the cliffs had called to her. She'd tried to rummage in her bag while walking, seeking out the shape of her camera, anything normal, but it was gone.
All her memories from D.C., gone. All potential mementos of her here, taken away before she could make them.
Mercy stood outside the temple, and she hadn't yet decided if she wanted to pray or to find something that she could take out her feelings on. She'd never been very good at the whole beating-things-up part, if she was being honest. Not quite up to the point where she could break boards with her bare hands, but maybe she could throw a rock through a window or something, if the windows weren't very nice.
The doors beneath the painted sunrise were heavy, sitting on rusted hinges, and they weren't very responsive when she finally decided to push them open. Mercy huffed and leaned her shoulder into it, getting a stubborn creak and little more.
"Come on, you..." she muttered. The door did not respond.
Mercy stepped back with another, sharper huff. She wanted in. She wanted to sit down and maybe take in a little bit of peace and beauty before she had to think. Or pace around and take in the beauty, since she still didn't want to stop moving for too long yet. Steeling herself, Mercy gave the door another firm shove, and got another bunch of nothing for it.
"Ugh!" Mercy stepped back and dropped her bags. Planting her left foot, she raised the right one, and with a shout - more out of habit than real anger - delivered a push kick to the center of the door and oh ow bad idea. She'd never done that with such a solid target before, and now she knew why that was.
The door creaked mockingly open in the wake of the kick.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Jan de Witt
- Posts: 97
- Joined: Mon Apr 29, 2019 2:19 pm
So his name was Ramsey. Theo tried to remember if he had ever met him before but came up with nothing. "My name's Theo, anyways. I'm assuming that you didn't bring those marshmallows with you on the trip?". Regardless of who this Ramsey was, he decided, he was safe as long as no-one else was armed either. Waiting for Ramsey to answer him, he turned his eyes towards the central painting, vaguely saddened by its erosion into nothingness.
A sudden slam against the door snapped him out of his reverie. Withdrawing himself fearfully, he called out weakly to the intruder. "Who's there?" He took back the "rifle" into his hands, hoping to at least scare any would-be killers away.
A sudden slam against the door snapped him out of his reverie. Withdrawing himself fearfully, he called out weakly to the intruder. "Who's there?" He took back the "rifle" into his hands, hoping to at least scare any would-be killers away.
Theo, huh..... didn't ring a bell. Like, at all. But he seemed harmless enough, and that's all that mattered.
He asked about the marshmallows. Ramsey opened his mouth to reply, only to get interrupted by a rapping at the chamber door.
Well, more like a love tap, really. But still enough to get Ramsey's heart pumping again.
"Yeah, uh, who's there?" He joined Theo in asking the probable person on the other side of the door. "You chill?"
He asked about the marshmallows. Ramsey opened his mouth to reply, only to get interrupted by a rapping at the chamber door.
Well, more like a love tap, really. But still enough to get Ramsey's heart pumping again.
"Yeah, uh, who's there?" He joined Theo in asking the probable person on the other side of the door. "You chill?"
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 533
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:50 pm
- Location: Where I need to be
((Parker_Green - Day 1 - 8:45 Local Time - Entering from Entropy in a Closed System))
Fear was not just a natural response to danger, it was probably one of the most useful inventions in human history. If one ever stopped to think about how many pre-historic humans had died due to their lack of being afraid of things like fire, or predators, or starvation, or other pre-historic humans, the benefits of such an emotion became blindingly obvious. It was a corpse pile of millions upon millions of people who weren’t scared enough of things they really ought to be scared of.
That thought made Parker feel better as he continued to pack his things back into his bag, putting the least useful items like the extra bag and food at the bottom. He hadn’t just been fighting his own panic back there. He’d been fighting billions of years of evolution where the most cowardly animal that could still breed won. It wasn’t quite the Survival of the Fittest most thought of, but really, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t to blame for that.
The voices that were carrying through the thin wall were worrying, but he'd stayed still and held his breath for a while, and tried to pay attention to what was going on. There was one gun, at least - Something about a rifle - though he couldn't quite make it out, which was probably a good sign. No-one was shouting or whispering, just talking at normal room volume, which was reassuring enough that he'd continued to look over the equipment Danya had been kind enough to leave him with. All his own personal effects had been taken - That had been one of the first things he'd checked, hurriedly patting himself down, and realising his keys, phone and wallet were all missing. His bag was gone too. Even his challenge coin, the little palm sized talisman of metal that bore the name of his alliance, something that had no value to the terrorists was gone.
There were, at least, a few upsides to that. The first was that it levelled the playing field, meaning everyone would be working with roughly the same resources to begin with. The second was the fact that he'd been granted a weapon which had some level of uillity.
It wasn't a 'proper' axe, being made of a skeletonised metal frame, rather than the tradition wooden shaft and metal axe-head. It was light, and aerodynamic, with the only compromise to ergonomics being the dark green paracord that was wrapped around the bottom of the shaft to create a surface that had slightly more grip than bare steel. He wouldn't be cutting down any trees with it without jarring the shit out of his wrist, but the blade was sharp enough that it would do some damage to pretty much anything he hit with it.
Doors.
Windows.
People.
It lay on the table that his bag and the rest of his stuff was laid out on, neatly aligned with the right edge of it, the blade stopping just short of hanging over the edge. Not that there was much stuff left now, with the water topping the survival guide, map, flashlight, and other accoutrements. The last thing to go in would be the First Aid kit. You needed to have things like that to hand immediately when they needed to be used, so digging through the rest of his shit to find it was the kind of thing that could cost him, or someone else their life.
Unfortunately, the sweat that had begun to coat his hands made it hard to grip the olive green painted metal, and the tin slipped out of his hand, smacking into the table with a loud crash that announced his presence in a decidedly unstealthy manner. His heart stopped for a moment, but after he didn't hear footsteps rushing towards the door to try and murder him, he decided to break the silence. If he was nervous, they probably sure as shit were, and he didn't fancy risking being shot at through the wall.
"... Fuck!" He exclaimed, in frustration that wasn't entirely forced.
Fear was not just a natural response to danger, it was probably one of the most useful inventions in human history. If one ever stopped to think about how many pre-historic humans had died due to their lack of being afraid of things like fire, or predators, or starvation, or other pre-historic humans, the benefits of such an emotion became blindingly obvious. It was a corpse pile of millions upon millions of people who weren’t scared enough of things they really ought to be scared of.
That thought made Parker feel better as he continued to pack his things back into his bag, putting the least useful items like the extra bag and food at the bottom. He hadn’t just been fighting his own panic back there. He’d been fighting billions of years of evolution where the most cowardly animal that could still breed won. It wasn’t quite the Survival of the Fittest most thought of, but really, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t to blame for that.
The voices that were carrying through the thin wall were worrying, but he'd stayed still and held his breath for a while, and tried to pay attention to what was going on. There was one gun, at least - Something about a rifle - though he couldn't quite make it out, which was probably a good sign. No-one was shouting or whispering, just talking at normal room volume, which was reassuring enough that he'd continued to look over the equipment Danya had been kind enough to leave him with. All his own personal effects had been taken - That had been one of the first things he'd checked, hurriedly patting himself down, and realising his keys, phone and wallet were all missing. His bag was gone too. Even his challenge coin, the little palm sized talisman of metal that bore the name of his alliance, something that had no value to the terrorists was gone.
There were, at least, a few upsides to that. The first was that it levelled the playing field, meaning everyone would be working with roughly the same resources to begin with. The second was the fact that he'd been granted a weapon which had some level of uillity.
It wasn't a 'proper' axe, being made of a skeletonised metal frame, rather than the tradition wooden shaft and metal axe-head. It was light, and aerodynamic, with the only compromise to ergonomics being the dark green paracord that was wrapped around the bottom of the shaft to create a surface that had slightly more grip than bare steel. He wouldn't be cutting down any trees with it without jarring the shit out of his wrist, but the blade was sharp enough that it would do some damage to pretty much anything he hit with it.
Doors.
Windows.
People.
It lay on the table that his bag and the rest of his stuff was laid out on, neatly aligned with the right edge of it, the blade stopping just short of hanging over the edge. Not that there was much stuff left now, with the water topping the survival guide, map, flashlight, and other accoutrements. The last thing to go in would be the First Aid kit. You needed to have things like that to hand immediately when they needed to be used, so digging through the rest of his shit to find it was the kind of thing that could cost him, or someone else their life.
Unfortunately, the sweat that had begun to coat his hands made it hard to grip the olive green painted metal, and the tin slipped out of his hand, smacking into the table with a loud crash that announced his presence in a decidedly unstealthy manner. His heart stopped for a moment, but after he didn't hear footsteps rushing towards the door to try and murder him, he decided to break the silence. If he was nervous, they probably sure as shit were, and he didn't fancy risking being shot at through the wall.
"... Fuck!" He exclaimed, in frustration that wasn't entirely forced.
Criticism or thoughts on my writing are welcome and appreciated - always looking to improve! Feel free to poke me on Discord or via PM.
"Oof." Mercy winced as she lowered her foot again. She could feel her cheeks burning; the noise from inside clearly indicated that whoever was in there had witnessed her failed attempt at entry, and now they were on guard. Not exactly the kind of first impression she wanted to make.
Grabbing her discarded bags with one hand, she leaned into the now-partially open door and pushed it open just enough to slide in. "I'm chill," she said, sulkily. "Hi. Sorry-" She stopped abruptly when she noticed just what Theo was holding. "Uh."
Well, that was a gun. Maybe? Mercy squinted at it, but before she could really focus, there was another bang from somewhere inside a building, followed by an exclamation. It made her heart start hammering in her chest again.
Mercy stayed put in the doorway, indecisive. "Are... you guys chill?"
This was kind of an inane conversation to be having, when there was a gun type thing being pointed in her direction, and who knew what sequestered away in the back room of the church. But Mercy couldn't stop herself from going through the motions. Hi, how are you, I'm fine, how are you? Normal, right? Just make it normal, and maybe this won't be happening, and she wouldn't have to think about it.
Grabbing her discarded bags with one hand, she leaned into the now-partially open door and pushed it open just enough to slide in. "I'm chill," she said, sulkily. "Hi. Sorry-" She stopped abruptly when she noticed just what Theo was holding. "Uh."
Well, that was a gun. Maybe? Mercy squinted at it, but before she could really focus, there was another bang from somewhere inside a building, followed by an exclamation. It made her heart start hammering in her chest again.
Mercy stayed put in the doorway, indecisive. "Are... you guys chill?"
This was kind of an inane conversation to be having, when there was a gun type thing being pointed in her direction, and who knew what sequestered away in the back room of the church. But Mercy couldn't stop herself from going through the motions. Hi, how are you, I'm fine, how are you? Normal, right? Just make it normal, and maybe this won't be happening, and she wouldn't have to think about it.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Somersault
- Posts: 312
- Joined: Wed Aug 15, 2018 8:56 am
"Fuuuuck this..."
To be totally honest, Tonya fucking hated walking. It was shit on her feet, for one, the sun was bright as fuck, for two, and for lucky number three? It meant that she was left with all the time in the world to fume.
((Tonya Collins, continued from What a Wicked Way to Treat the Girl That Loves You))
Sure, she was still keeping it strong, still following her plan. No time spent around friends, people she knew, so she dropped Jeff like a hot potato. It was the smart move, the right move, the one that kept her focused, head in the game, all that good shit.
So, why was it that she still felt so empty?
It couldn't be 'cause she was sad 'bout leaving, couldn't be 'cause she wasn't cut out to make it here. It was his fault, for sure, his fault that he didn't do nothin' when he left 'cause he obviously could have stopped, told her no, but instead he just gave her side-eye, judged her, like every goddamn person in the universe. Just like Barry, just like Tanisha, just like everyone of those sumbitches who didn't care about who she was, just what she did. Tonya wasn't gonna let herself be sad, so she was gonna be mad.
She was on the path again, canvas shoes becoming even less white as she continued trudging along, machete once more out of her bag and held tightly in her hand. Slowly, yet surely, there was another building on the horizon. Not that she knew what the building was, 'cause she hadn't really been using her map, but as it came into focus, the fact that the door was open just a crack quickly became evident.
Her footsteps continued, just until they came to a halt a few feet from the door. Somebody was inside, or'd been there prior, and for some reason, she found herself drawn to it. Maybe it was the adrenaline winding down, just a bit. Clearing her senses, her mind, just enough for some clarity to shine through.
"I swear to God," she sighed, loudly, the exhale of breath heard clearly through her words. 'If all of y'all in there are getting up to some fuckin' funny business, I will shank a bitch."
Maybe she wanted to see what'd happen if someone was up to some funny business. Her eyes narrowed, as she continued to grip the machete, watching and waiting for any motion to appear.
Just as in badminton, the first move started everything off. Just as in badminton, being loud was just as adequate a substitute for actually being proud.
To be totally honest, Tonya fucking hated walking. It was shit on her feet, for one, the sun was bright as fuck, for two, and for lucky number three? It meant that she was left with all the time in the world to fume.
((Tonya Collins, continued from What a Wicked Way to Treat the Girl That Loves You))
Sure, she was still keeping it strong, still following her plan. No time spent around friends, people she knew, so she dropped Jeff like a hot potato. It was the smart move, the right move, the one that kept her focused, head in the game, all that good shit.
So, why was it that she still felt so empty?
It couldn't be 'cause she was sad 'bout leaving, couldn't be 'cause she wasn't cut out to make it here. It was his fault, for sure, his fault that he didn't do nothin' when he left 'cause he obviously could have stopped, told her no, but instead he just gave her side-eye, judged her, like every goddamn person in the universe. Just like Barry, just like Tanisha, just like everyone of those sumbitches who didn't care about who she was, just what she did. Tonya wasn't gonna let herself be sad, so she was gonna be mad.
She was on the path again, canvas shoes becoming even less white as she continued trudging along, machete once more out of her bag and held tightly in her hand. Slowly, yet surely, there was another building on the horizon. Not that she knew what the building was, 'cause she hadn't really been using her map, but as it came into focus, the fact that the door was open just a crack quickly became evident.
Her footsteps continued, just until they came to a halt a few feet from the door. Somebody was inside, or'd been there prior, and for some reason, she found herself drawn to it. Maybe it was the adrenaline winding down, just a bit. Clearing her senses, her mind, just enough for some clarity to shine through.
"I swear to God," she sighed, loudly, the exhale of breath heard clearly through her words. 'If all of y'all in there are getting up to some fuckin' funny business, I will shank a bitch."
Maybe she wanted to see what'd happen if someone was up to some funny business. Her eyes narrowed, as she continued to grip the machete, watching and waiting for any motion to appear.
Just as in badminton, the first move started everything off. Just as in badminton, being loud was just as adequate a substitute for actually being proud.
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Jan de Witt
- Posts: 97
- Joined: Mon Apr 29, 2019 2:19 pm
While Theo waited for an answer to his question, a loud metallic crash drew his attention to the side rooms that surrounded the temple's central hall. Aside from loudly swearing, they didn't appear to be doing anything else, so he turned Struggling to maintain his composure, he turned agitatedly back towards the front-door intruder as she asked about their intentions.
Looking more closely at the new entrant, he considered how likely she was to be a threat. She didn't appear to have any weapons, but she certainly did have the ability to launch a reasonably strong kick. Trembling slightly, he indicated himself and Ramsey. "Well, I don't think we're planning on killing anyone, but you might want to ask the person in the side room over there separately." Taking a deep breath, he settled back down on the cushion and turned back towards the source of the clang, waiting for the person inside to make the first move.
Theo was then interrupted once more, as yet another person came, shouting out to any who could hear about her plans. Any confidence he had left disappeared as the situation began to spin hopelessly, utterly, out of his (or indeed, anyone's) control. He exhaled sharply and turned towards the noise, frustrated.
Looking more closely at the new entrant, he considered how likely she was to be a threat. She didn't appear to have any weapons, but she certainly did have the ability to launch a reasonably strong kick. Trembling slightly, he indicated himself and Ramsey. "Well, I don't think we're planning on killing anyone, but you might want to ask the person in the side room over there separately." Taking a deep breath, he settled back down on the cushion and turned back towards the source of the clang, waiting for the person inside to make the first move.
Theo was then interrupted once more, as yet another person came, shouting out to any who could hear about her plans. Any confidence he had left disappeared as the situation began to spin hopelessly, utterly, out of his (or indeed, anyone's) control. He exhaled sharply and turned towards the noise, frustrated.
The girl squeezed in through the door left ajar. It was Mercy. Yeah. She was chill.
A bang with a loud "Fuck!" came from the sideroom. Ramsey jumped out of his skin again, though this time without dropping marshmallows all over the place like a boss. Christ, how many more people were gonna sneak up on him today?
"We're chill," Ramsey replied back to Mercy.
Theo addressed the elephant in the sideroom. At least if they had to make a break for it, they had the upper hand unless there were more exits in this disturbingly sacrilegious place.
And then another person strolled up outside the door, demanding to know if there was any monkey business going down. Ramsey's blood pressure was really starting to spike.
"OK!" he yelled, making sure his voice could be heard past the walls and the front door. "Is there anyone else here we should know about!? Otherwise, can we all meet up in here and lay our cards on the table?"
A bang with a loud "Fuck!" came from the sideroom. Ramsey jumped out of his skin again, though this time without dropping marshmallows all over the place like a boss. Christ, how many more people were gonna sneak up on him today?
"We're chill," Ramsey replied back to Mercy.
Theo addressed the elephant in the sideroom. At least if they had to make a break for it, they had the upper hand unless there were more exits in this disturbingly sacrilegious place.
And then another person strolled up outside the door, demanding to know if there was any monkey business going down. Ramsey's blood pressure was really starting to spike.
"OK!" he yelled, making sure his voice could be heard past the walls and the front door. "Is there anyone else here we should know about!? Otherwise, can we all meet up in here and lay our cards on the table?"
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Frozen Smoke
- Posts: 533
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:50 pm
- Location: Where I need to be
Parker finished repacking and swung the bag over his shoulders, tightening the straps a little and trying to be as comfortable as he could with the weight, his attention focused squarely on the new voices that were filtering through. He'd heard the bang on the door earlier, but now it was being accompanied by a female voice, and another one from a different direction.
The conversation was tense, but seemed friendly, at least for now. And it was unlikely that this had all been pre-planned to be a trap. Two people were enough to be concerned about, but four? Enough to write it off.
He looked over at the door he'd walked in through for a moment, still ajar and swaying lightly on the rusted hinges with every breeze of air, letting in another shaft of light to serve as a companion to the small window placed high up on the wall.
He considered leaving.
Groups were by necessity temporary within the rules that had been given to them, whether made so by betrayal or mere attrition, multiple people couldn't ultimately work together for mutual survival. Getting embroiled in one seemed like it could be a waste of time. And, worse than that, a danger. He didn't recognise any of those voices, he didn't know what they were like, and anyone could hold a facade for a few days.
On the other hand, how likely was it that he'd get this opportunity again? How many people were going to be non-hostile, really?
He turned his attention towards the internal door, the one in front of him, and turned the handle. He began to slowly inch it open as he spoke.
"Yeah, yeah. Friendly, or whatever."
The conversation was tense, but seemed friendly, at least for now. And it was unlikely that this had all been pre-planned to be a trap. Two people were enough to be concerned about, but four? Enough to write it off.
He looked over at the door he'd walked in through for a moment, still ajar and swaying lightly on the rusted hinges with every breeze of air, letting in another shaft of light to serve as a companion to the small window placed high up on the wall.
He considered leaving.
Groups were by necessity temporary within the rules that had been given to them, whether made so by betrayal or mere attrition, multiple people couldn't ultimately work together for mutual survival. Getting embroiled in one seemed like it could be a waste of time. And, worse than that, a danger. He didn't recognise any of those voices, he didn't know what they were like, and anyone could hold a facade for a few days.
On the other hand, how likely was it that he'd get this opportunity again? How many people were going to be non-hostile, really?
He turned his attention towards the internal door, the one in front of him, and turned the handle. He began to slowly inch it open as he spoke.
"Yeah, yeah. Friendly, or whatever."
Criticism or thoughts on my writing are welcome and appreciated - always looking to improve! Feel free to poke me on Discord or via PM.
All of a sudden, Mercy was feeling very boxed in. She'd had enough to take in already as soon as she entered, between Theo's weird-looking gun, and Ramsey's... beanbag? Then there was a noise from the side, and noise from behind her, and the noise from behind her was actively threatening to shank her. Mercy made the executive decision to hustle a little further into the temple, effectively transforming the duo in the middle into a trio. She'd take the gun being vaguely pointed in her direction over the knife that was apparently aimed at her back.
She hadn't looked in her bag except to rummage for her camera and come up empty handed, and Theo was the only person that was really armed who wasn't potentially hostile. Well, he was still potentially hostile. Mercy was just standing next to him instead of in front of him now.
The calm she'd cultivated though keeping herself busy was rapidly dispersing now that she was standing still and closed in. There was a soft crunch under her foot as she shifted her weight, and she glanced down to see that she was standing on... marshmallows?
Mercy blinked at the floor, then up at Ramsey and the bag, and nervous laughter bubbled up out of her throat.
"I don't think anybody wants trouble, right?" She said, a little too loudly to account for the factors that were still on the other sides of doors. "No, uh... 'funny business'." She grasped the strap of the bag over her shoulder and squeezed it until her knuckles were white.
Wait, wait. The voice at the side door. "...Parker, is that you?"
She hadn't looked in her bag except to rummage for her camera and come up empty handed, and Theo was the only person that was really armed who wasn't potentially hostile. Well, he was still potentially hostile. Mercy was just standing next to him instead of in front of him now.
The calm she'd cultivated though keeping herself busy was rapidly dispersing now that she was standing still and closed in. There was a soft crunch under her foot as she shifted her weight, and she glanced down to see that she was standing on... marshmallows?
Mercy blinked at the floor, then up at Ramsey and the bag, and nervous laughter bubbled up out of her throat.
"I don't think anybody wants trouble, right?" She said, a little too loudly to account for the factors that were still on the other sides of doors. "No, uh... 'funny business'." She grasped the strap of the bag over her shoulder and squeezed it until her knuckles were white.
Wait, wait. The voice at the side door. "...Parker, is that you?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."