He had been coming to whilst on the helicopter, but was far too groggy to give any sign of protest. He was dumped roughly out the side onto a rough patch of field, his belongings splattered in the mud along with his largely-framed body. His mother called him Duncan. Survival of the Fittest called him Boy #53.
It was the gale from the helicopter's propellors as it took off that properly woke him. He gazed up at the ever-shrinking object, slowly realising what was happening to him. the images came back... the infamous video footage, the gassing, the man telling him of his fate...
Duncan vomited copiously on the ground. This is great. It's all real. Too real. He never was one for actively fighting good causes, but this whole Survival Of The Fittest thing was just too vulgar (for want of a better word) to be true. It couldn't be, could it?
Of course it was real. Even on the ground, Duncan could feel the weight of the collar around his neck. So he was a walking bomb now. Sitting up, he looked into his kit bag. A frisbee. What use would that be? Nah, even if he wanted to, he would be incapable of fighting to win with this weapon.
Maybe he really shouldn't have got out of bed this morning. The day started with a hangover, and now this. Great.
Stand up, Boy #53
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JayneBrown†
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Stand up, Boy #53
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JayneBrown†
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Duncan thought back a bit. What did he know about this game? That is caused death and suffering? That children are sent to the slaughter for no reason, to be hunted down like sport? Why couldn't anyone stop this? It was a tragedy, one that he was stuck in the middle of, with no means of escape. Why would anyone want to fight? They may be kids, but they're surely not stupid.
So in this way, Duncan hoped that there was something... anything... in his power that he could execute for the common good, and therfore began formulating a plan. However, it became apparent that he would need more people for it to work. How would he attract attention to himself? Well, there was that frisbee... sure it could cause somebody to hunt him down, if there really was somebody playing for keeps, but... who can resist a frisbee?
He tossed it up into the air as vertically as possible, its yellow body flashing as it ascended and descended back into Duncan's waiting grasp. A pause. Repeat. Another pause. Eyes peeled.
So in this way, Duncan hoped that there was something... anything... in his power that he could execute for the common good, and therfore began formulating a plan. However, it became apparent that he would need more people for it to work. How would he attract attention to himself? Well, there was that frisbee... sure it could cause somebody to hunt him down, if there really was somebody playing for keeps, but... who can resist a frisbee?
He tossed it up into the air as vertically as possible, its yellow body flashing as it ascended and descended back into Duncan's waiting grasp. A pause. Repeat. Another pause. Eyes peeled.
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((Coming from... where is it? Ah, Lookout Point- On My Own.))
Great. A big open field. A nice way of saying "Look! I'm here! Please kill me from afar!" Angharad sighed. She obviously wouldn't be staying here. She went to leave, when something moved out of the corner of her eye. She spun around. Something was flying up in the air. She squinted, and raised her hands to sheild the sun from her eyes. What was that?
...was that a frisbee? Either this was someone's idea of a sick joke, or people really did go crazy on this island. Angharad looked for the owner, and spotted someone just underneath where the frisbee was soaring. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a boy (and holy hand grenade, Batman, a huge boy!)
Angharad watched, an expression of mixed pity and amusement on her face. Obviously things weren't going too well for this guy, either. Oh well, back to business... she grapsed for her cat claws.
But as she thought about it, she found that she just couldn't do it. She couldn't lose herself to the game, she wouldn't, more importantly. She couldn't just kill mindlessly. Sighing, she put the cat claws away. She would only use these in an emergency, she decided.
"Hey!" she called out. "What are you doing?"
((and I'm not stupid, I know it was a signal, but hey, she's Welsh ^_^))
Great. A big open field. A nice way of saying "Look! I'm here! Please kill me from afar!" Angharad sighed. She obviously wouldn't be staying here. She went to leave, when something moved out of the corner of her eye. She spun around. Something was flying up in the air. She squinted, and raised her hands to sheild the sun from her eyes. What was that?
...was that a frisbee? Either this was someone's idea of a sick joke, or people really did go crazy on this island. Angharad looked for the owner, and spotted someone just underneath where the frisbee was soaring. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a boy (and holy hand grenade, Batman, a huge boy!)
Angharad watched, an expression of mixed pity and amusement on her face. Obviously things weren't going too well for this guy, either. Oh well, back to business... she grapsed for her cat claws.
But as she thought about it, she found that she just couldn't do it. She couldn't lose herself to the game, she wouldn't, more importantly. She couldn't just kill mindlessly. Sighing, she put the cat claws away. She would only use these in an emergency, she decided.
"Hey!" she called out. "What are you doing?"
((and I'm not stupid, I know it was a signal, but hey, she's Welsh ^_^))
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JayneBrown†
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Duncan whirled around on the spot to see a girl standing not too far from him, apparently attracted by the sight of the frisbee, which had plopped to the floor as Duncan had failed to catch it this time.
"Hey there..." he said, trying to sound controlled, but not doing a very good job of it. "Was hoping somebody could see this. i needed to pair up with people. You look alone, so...?"
He had let his voice trail off in a way that the girl hopefully interpreted it as a question.
"Hey there..." he said, trying to sound controlled, but not doing a very good job of it. "Was hoping somebody could see this. i needed to pair up with people. You look alone, so...?"
He had let his voice trail off in a way that the girl hopefully interpreted it as a question.
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"Yeah, I guess I am sorta alone," Angharad voiced what had been frustrating her ever since she had arrived on the island. She scratched her eyebrow in an embarrassed manner. This guy seems OK, true, he's built like a... really big thing... but still, I need someone, and so does he, by the sounds of things. Worth a shot, anyway.
She looked around to check there was no one else in the area, and took a couple of steps closer, to avoid having to talk so loudly. Although the idea of standing in a big open space on the SOTF island with a stranger didn't exactly appeal to her, her wish to have someone just to talk to, to stop her from going insane, overrode any other qualms she was having.
"That your weapon?" she asked, nodding towards the fallen frisbee.
She looked around to check there was no one else in the area, and took a couple of steps closer, to avoid having to talk so loudly. Although the idea of standing in a big open space on the SOTF island with a stranger didn't exactly appeal to her, her wish to have someone just to talk to, to stop her from going insane, overrode any other qualms she was having.
"That your weapon?" she asked, nodding towards the fallen frisbee.
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JayneBrown†
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"Yeah, mumbled Duncan" as he pointed at the fallen item. It's shit isn't it?"
((OOC, like this post really. Maybe I should carry ot on in the morning. Note to self: writing posts at 4 am is not smart.))
((OOC, like this post really. Maybe I should carry ot on in the morning. Note to self: writing posts at 4 am is not smart.))
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Angharad shrugged. "I'll admit it isn't the best I've seen..." she took out her cat claws and showed them to the boy. "This is what I got. Not exactly brilliant either. I wanted a gun," she said, with a sad smile on her face.
Stepping slightly closer to him, her attention turned once again to the luridly bright frisbee on the floor. "They actually expect you to stand a chance, running around on this island, with a fucking frisbee?" She balled her fists angrily. "And people film us run around killing each other? They find it entertaining??" She glared around her, trying to look for a camera, mircophone, anything to vent her anger out on.
(I've had veeery little sleep. Pinecone took over my life last night
))
Stepping slightly closer to him, her attention turned once again to the luridly bright frisbee on the floor. "They actually expect you to stand a chance, running around on this island, with a fucking frisbee?" She balled her fists angrily. "And people film us run around killing each other? They find it entertaining??" She glared around her, trying to look for a camera, mircophone, anything to vent her anger out on.
(I've had veeery little sleep. Pinecone took over my life last night
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JayneBrown†
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((You've had little sleep?! I didn't get to bed until 6 o'clock this morning! Damn alcohol and insomnia.))
Duncan said nothing in response to this remark. Yes, they seemed to find this great fun. And who said America wasn't desensitised to violence these days? What a joke.
"They do televise this, yeah. I've seen a bit of it before," Duncan said as Angharad, who looked at him quizically. "I was doing some research into media's influence on civil rights when..."
Once again, Duncan's voice trailed off. He was struck with a sickening thought. Was he chosen because he was against this, this SOTF thing? Did he overstep the mark at some point and be rendered a threat, set to be eliminated in the most ironic way imaginable? And what's to say they didn't rig it so he got a crap weapon? Still... if this was the end, why stop fighting now?
"I'm angry right now. I just want to lash out at the bastards who put us in here. I want revenge against them; to fight as much as I can. I threw the frisbee because I needed others. Will you stay with me?"
Duncan said nothing in response to this remark. Yes, they seemed to find this great fun. And who said America wasn't desensitised to violence these days? What a joke.
"They do televise this, yeah. I've seen a bit of it before," Duncan said as Angharad, who looked at him quizically. "I was doing some research into media's influence on civil rights when..."
Once again, Duncan's voice trailed off. He was struck with a sickening thought. Was he chosen because he was against this, this SOTF thing? Did he overstep the mark at some point and be rendered a threat, set to be eliminated in the most ironic way imaginable? And what's to say they didn't rig it so he got a crap weapon? Still... if this was the end, why stop fighting now?
"I'm angry right now. I just want to lash out at the bastards who put us in here. I want revenge against them; to fight as much as I can. I threw the frisbee because I needed others. Will you stay with me?"
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Should she join him? Was trying to stop the people running it really the way off this island? Or should she just stick to trying to win the conventional way...
...there was no denying that she would appreciate revenge against those who had put her here. And there was little chance she would be able to 'win' with her weapon, even if she wanted to. Looking up at the boy, she nodded.
"Sure, why not. Revenge is a dish best served with some cat claws, after all..."
This guy seemed like the dependable type. He also seemed like he knew what he was doing. More importantly, he was company. This could work.
"So how do you propose we...lash out?" she asked him.
((And yes!! Pinecone took up a lot of sleeping time! And that's your fault for being a crazy student.))
...there was no denying that she would appreciate revenge against those who had put her here. And there was little chance she would be able to 'win' with her weapon, even if she wanted to. Looking up at the boy, she nodded.
"Sure, why not. Revenge is a dish best served with some cat claws, after all..."
This guy seemed like the dependable type. He also seemed like he knew what he was doing. More importantly, he was company. This could work.
"So how do you propose we...lash out?" she asked him.
((And yes!! Pinecone took up a lot of sleeping time! And that's your fault for being a crazy student.))
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JayneBrown†
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((Crazy student?! Yes.))
Duncan gave a heavy sigh. "I'm not sure. I've not long landed here, so my thoughts are all over the place. But maybe we can work something out. But my main concern is getting away from here; we're totally exposed. Got your bag? Let's go!"
And without another word he picked up his stuff and started hurrying away from the scene, turning to face the girl every now and then to see if she was coming.
Duncan gave a heavy sigh. "I'm not sure. I've not long landed here, so my thoughts are all over the place. But maybe we can work something out. But my main concern is getting away from here; we're totally exposed. Got your bag? Let's go!"
And without another word he picked up his stuff and started hurrying away from the scene, turning to face the girl every now and then to see if she was coming.
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Rolling her eyes at the somewhat inadequate answer, Angharad slung her bag higher up on her back. It was true that they needed to plan somewhere else, but she had hoped he would give her some sort of answer, some imformation as to how they were going to fuck over the people that had done this to them. Oh well, she had to trust him... for now. If he turned on her, her cat claws vs his frisbee, no matter how big or strong he was... she smiled slighty as she began to jog after him.
((short. But I'm at Spring's house. ^_^))
((short. But I'm at Spring's house. ^_^))
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JayneBrown†
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"Ah, excellent!" Duncan said out loud to himself as Angharad followed him. "She is going to stay with me after all."
The two of them hastened across the field, trying to find somewhere that would count as cover, or a base. Duncan saw the shape of a lighthouse in the distance, and, deciding it was as good a place as any, pointed there as indication. A hideout.
((Continued in: Planning of a Strategy))
The two of them hastened across the field, trying to find somewhere that would count as cover, or a base. Duncan saw the shape of a lighthouse in the distance, and, deciding it was as good a place as any, pointed there as indication. A hideout.
((Continued in: Planning of a Strategy))
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She followed his hand and spotted the lighthouse. That would be a good place for planning, hiding, plotting... she nodded, still hurrying after him.
((Yup, looks like I'm off to the Lighthouse as well))
((Yup, looks like I'm off to the Lighthouse as well))
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