((Quincy Jones cont'd from Later, Buddy))
Another day, another night. Keeping low, keeping out of sight, and out of trouble. Once or twice, Quincy had spotted some groups of people, but decided that they were too risky right now. If it were one or two, then he and Tiffany could maybe have handled them, but with only one gun properly between them, any more than that was too risky, and his own rep was becoming too hot for them to do recon.
As Quince woke up from a surprisingly restful sleep, he first made sure that all his stuff was where he'd left it. Good, it was secure, backpack, rifle, everything. He could really do with a shower, or even a stream to bathe in, but knew that would leave him too exposed, in more ways than one.
He still hadn't spoken with Tiffany about what had happened at the Funfair, how he'd killed a man in front of her, how she'd helped. He didn't know if anything needed to be said. Well maybe one thing.
He sat up, facing away from his companion. "Tiff, I want to say sorry. I've dragged you into this. If you want to strike out on your own, that's cool. I get it. I'll even give you the rifle. But, I do want to say something. All the stuff about Felicia, that's over. Whatever happened at Prom, it was her decision. And I'm never going to find her now. I get that. And if you do stay, I'll protect you for as long as I can."
He shifted his weight, straitening out his back, stretched and waited.
Endings & Beginnings
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Killer_Moth†
- Posts: 259
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 8:22 am
Endings & Beginnings
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Killer_Moth. 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.
((Tiffany Chanders continued from Later, Buddy))
It had been, what? A day? They'd stayed on the quiet, they'd slept, she'd had some more of that crap bread and water before changing her shoes. While the Gucci shoes looked good on her, they (a) were now covered in blood, thanks to Quincy shooting off Josh's kneecap, and (b) were giving her problems walking, being heels. The boots she was wearing now were a pair of black Ugg boots. Not only were they much more comfortable, they black meant that it was easier to hide any blood that would come - and with Josh's death and Quincy now a known killer, everyone was going to be after him, and possibly her by association. Now, Tiffany was just sitting on the ground, her back resting on one of the many tree stumps in the area.
"Tiff, I want to say sorry. I've dragged you into this. If you want to strike out on your own, that's cool. I get it. I'll even give you the rifle. But, I do want to say something. All the stuff about Felicia, that's over. Whatever happened at Prom, it was her decision. And I'm never going to find her now. I get that. And if you do stay, I'll protect you for as long as I can."
Tiffany turned to Quincy, unsure of what she'd just heard. "All the stuff about Felicia, that's over ..." For a moment, her lips turned upward.
Could it be? Could Quincy really be mine? This was good. Well, mostly. Tiffany would have loved to have the rifle, but there were two things preventing her from taking it: namely, she didn't know how to use it, and because Quincy had killed Joshua, as far as anyone knew. If she took the gun, she was in just as deep as he was. Besides, someone had to kill the people she wanted dead, and she certainly didn't feel like it.
Of course, none of what went through her head was what she told Quincy.
"Quincy, I don't know what to say." Tiffany got up and walked to Quincy. "But right now, you're my only friend. You stuck with me, and as your friend, I owe you the same. And don't worry about the rifle. If I had to use it, I'd probably hurt myself."
So long as you're still useful to me.
It had been, what? A day? They'd stayed on the quiet, they'd slept, she'd had some more of that crap bread and water before changing her shoes. While the Gucci shoes looked good on her, they (a) were now covered in blood, thanks to Quincy shooting off Josh's kneecap, and (b) were giving her problems walking, being heels. The boots she was wearing now were a pair of black Ugg boots. Not only were they much more comfortable, they black meant that it was easier to hide any blood that would come - and with Josh's death and Quincy now a known killer, everyone was going to be after him, and possibly her by association. Now, Tiffany was just sitting on the ground, her back resting on one of the many tree stumps in the area.
"Tiff, I want to say sorry. I've dragged you into this. If you want to strike out on your own, that's cool. I get it. I'll even give you the rifle. But, I do want to say something. All the stuff about Felicia, that's over. Whatever happened at Prom, it was her decision. And I'm never going to find her now. I get that. And if you do stay, I'll protect you for as long as I can."
Tiffany turned to Quincy, unsure of what she'd just heard. "All the stuff about Felicia, that's over ..." For a moment, her lips turned upward.
Could it be? Could Quincy really be mine? This was good. Well, mostly. Tiffany would have loved to have the rifle, but there were two things preventing her from taking it: namely, she didn't know how to use it, and because Quincy had killed Joshua, as far as anyone knew. If she took the gun, she was in just as deep as he was. Besides, someone had to kill the people she wanted dead, and she certainly didn't feel like it.
Of course, none of what went through her head was what she told Quincy.
"Quincy, I don't know what to say." Tiffany got up and walked to Quincy. "But right now, you're my only friend. You stuck with me, and as your friend, I owe you the same. And don't worry about the rifle. If I had to use it, I'd probably hurt myself."
So long as you're still useful to me.
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
((Peter McCue continued from Even the Best Fall Down Sometimes.))
It had been one hell of a night. One hell of a day for that matter. After leaving their campsite up in the mountain, his little... distraction... had caused him to forget which way they were facing. Again. And they had gotten lost. Again. Not as dramatically so as the first time, but it had taken them a good two or three hours more than it really should have to get safely down the mountain, and actually end up on the right god damned side of it. So, that trek through the felled forest to the logging road was starting waay too late. Thankfully he had gotten his bearings before leaving the high ground, but unfortunately one he had made it back down to sea level he couldn't exactly see the logging road any more. Or the sawmill for that matter. So, it was just a matter of keep fording north, through the sea of stumps.
It really reminded him of back when the trio had first emerged from the tunnels... He wondered where Max was now. He hadn't heard his name on the announcements... In either facet. Still, that didn't mean he was okay per-se.
Peter just really regretted scaring him off like that.
So, the two had eventually made camp among the branches and stumps. Nothing fancy. They weren't on a phalanx anymore, they had no natural cover. No campfire tonight. That would attract attention like moths to a flame. Just a single sleeping bag, just like the night before. Thankfully, it had only taken Peter about an hour to fall asleep this time, unlike back up on the mountain. This time, he even felt comfortable enough to wrap an arm around her... Long after it was safe, once she had fallen deep asleep. Obviously.
It's not like he had any reason to be confident or anything.
---[Transition to Day 7]---
Morning, and another greeting from the most hated son of a bitch on the island! Really, that was the worst thing in the world he could envision waking up to... When he finally got off of this rock and went off to College, he was going to set his fucking alarm to go off with a recording from the televised version... That would wake him up really damn quick. Now that's one way to use PTSD to your advantage.
"You'll be very happy indeed to hear that in a few short hours, you'll have officially have survived until the halfway mark of the game. That's provided, of course, that you aren't one of the three unlucky souls that have to die for you all to reach that point. Keep it up folks, I can't tell you how proud I am of your spirit."
So, half of the Bayview Secondary School class of '08 lay dead. He shook his head as he groggily pushed himself up in the sleeping bag, tugging the fabric up, stretching it just a little as Katlin laid in place, at least for the moment. In a way, he almost felt a little tinge of pride. He had made it for an entire week, he had outlasted 135 of his fellow classmates. But at the same time, the moment that the fraction of a thought had passed, he suddenly felt an urge to cry. To mourn for everyone who had made it to a (much) better place, and left them all behind.
Breakfast was quick that morning. No cute little bunny to feed them. Just what was literally left of the last loaf of bread, and a couple swallows of water. It didn't look like Katlin was faring any better either.
Whatever. They could deal with food later. It was time to move.
And move they did. Packing up the sleeping bag and slinging it back into the big blue hiking sack, which was now sagging and collapsed, over half of it's original contents now replaced with air. Oh, how he wished he hadn't ditched the day pack he was given by the terrorists. It would be so much less awkward to use right about now...
The next hour or so was extremely uneventful, and every so often he would find himself expelling that precious energy that his loaf of bread had given him needlessly by jumping from stump to stump, or some other equally frivilous and childish act. This was driving him up a wall. Generally when he went hiking, it was for so much less time than this... For the first time in his life, Peter could pretty much safely say that he was sick of the outdoors himself. He wanted nothing more than a nice warm shower, and his comfy bed waiting for him back home... His room... God damn it, his DS even.
After what felt like another eternity of just walking, checking his bearings, and then walking some more... Maybe an adjustment for his own human error, a figure popped up over the horizon. At the very least one. Honestly, they were so far off that he could barely tell what he was looking at.
They were all out in the open. All three... or four of them. He seriously thought there was a fourth person over there, but his eyes were playing tricks on him... Stupid fucking glasses...
But yeah. He could see them. No telling if they saw him or not, but they could quite easily spot him if they found themselves so inclined to look this way. But at the same time... Yelling over was a bad idea.
He held up a hand, holding an outstretched finger over his mouth. He then crouched among the stumps, and motioned for Katlin to do the same. And then he waited, to see what the others would do, mentally berating himself for letting it have come to this. So paranoid about his peers from just a week ago that he was hiding like this just at the sight of someone else... Usually it took one of the less savory sports kids to get this reaction out of him.
Please be friendly... Please be friendly...
Yeah, there were definitely two people over there.
It had been one hell of a night. One hell of a day for that matter. After leaving their campsite up in the mountain, his little... distraction... had caused him to forget which way they were facing. Again. And they had gotten lost. Again. Not as dramatically so as the first time, but it had taken them a good two or three hours more than it really should have to get safely down the mountain, and actually end up on the right god damned side of it. So, that trek through the felled forest to the logging road was starting waay too late. Thankfully he had gotten his bearings before leaving the high ground, but unfortunately one he had made it back down to sea level he couldn't exactly see the logging road any more. Or the sawmill for that matter. So, it was just a matter of keep fording north, through the sea of stumps.
It really reminded him of back when the trio had first emerged from the tunnels... He wondered where Max was now. He hadn't heard his name on the announcements... In either facet. Still, that didn't mean he was okay per-se.
Peter just really regretted scaring him off like that.
So, the two had eventually made camp among the branches and stumps. Nothing fancy. They weren't on a phalanx anymore, they had no natural cover. No campfire tonight. That would attract attention like moths to a flame. Just a single sleeping bag, just like the night before. Thankfully, it had only taken Peter about an hour to fall asleep this time, unlike back up on the mountain. This time, he even felt comfortable enough to wrap an arm around her... Long after it was safe, once she had fallen deep asleep. Obviously.
It's not like he had any reason to be confident or anything.
---[Transition to Day 7]---
Morning, and another greeting from the most hated son of a bitch on the island! Really, that was the worst thing in the world he could envision waking up to... When he finally got off of this rock and went off to College, he was going to set his fucking alarm to go off with a recording from the televised version... That would wake him up really damn quick. Now that's one way to use PTSD to your advantage.
"You'll be very happy indeed to hear that in a few short hours, you'll have officially have survived until the halfway mark of the game. That's provided, of course, that you aren't one of the three unlucky souls that have to die for you all to reach that point. Keep it up folks, I can't tell you how proud I am of your spirit."
So, half of the Bayview Secondary School class of '08 lay dead. He shook his head as he groggily pushed himself up in the sleeping bag, tugging the fabric up, stretching it just a little as Katlin laid in place, at least for the moment. In a way, he almost felt a little tinge of pride. He had made it for an entire week, he had outlasted 135 of his fellow classmates. But at the same time, the moment that the fraction of a thought had passed, he suddenly felt an urge to cry. To mourn for everyone who had made it to a (much) better place, and left them all behind.
Breakfast was quick that morning. No cute little bunny to feed them. Just what was literally left of the last loaf of bread, and a couple swallows of water. It didn't look like Katlin was faring any better either.
Whatever. They could deal with food later. It was time to move.
And move they did. Packing up the sleeping bag and slinging it back into the big blue hiking sack, which was now sagging and collapsed, over half of it's original contents now replaced with air. Oh, how he wished he hadn't ditched the day pack he was given by the terrorists. It would be so much less awkward to use right about now...
The next hour or so was extremely uneventful, and every so often he would find himself expelling that precious energy that his loaf of bread had given him needlessly by jumping from stump to stump, or some other equally frivilous and childish act. This was driving him up a wall. Generally when he went hiking, it was for so much less time than this... For the first time in his life, Peter could pretty much safely say that he was sick of the outdoors himself. He wanted nothing more than a nice warm shower, and his comfy bed waiting for him back home... His room... God damn it, his DS even.
After what felt like another eternity of just walking, checking his bearings, and then walking some more... Maybe an adjustment for his own human error, a figure popped up over the horizon. At the very least one. Honestly, they were so far off that he could barely tell what he was looking at.
They were all out in the open. All three... or four of them. He seriously thought there was a fourth person over there, but his eyes were playing tricks on him... Stupid fucking glasses...
But yeah. He could see them. No telling if they saw him or not, but they could quite easily spot him if they found themselves so inclined to look this way. But at the same time... Yelling over was a bad idea.
He held up a hand, holding an outstretched finger over his mouth. He then crouched among the stumps, and motioned for Katlin to do the same. And then he waited, to see what the others would do, mentally berating himself for letting it have come to this. So paranoid about his peers from just a week ago that he was hiding like this just at the sight of someone else... Usually it took one of the less savory sports kids to get this reaction out of him.
Please be friendly... Please be friendly...
Yeah, there were definitely two people over there.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. 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.
(George Leidman continued from Eep)
George had heard the announcement as he was moving across the island. Sebastian was dead, and it served him right. That was perfectly fine by him, and props to whoever it was that did the deed. Now that the scumbag was gone, there was only one objective left for George on this stupid island: Survival. He'd heard something or other about people who were trying to fight against the game, but all that meant to him was that they'd blow themselves up over angering their host. This made them, in his approximation, a non-issue. One less person for him to worry about as he fought his way to the end.
He'd be good about it, of course. People who were killers or otherwise violent would get the axe, but he'd let peaceable people go. Simple plan, and it probably wouldn't be hard to figure out who was who. Just pay attention to who was waving a gun in his face. Granted, there'd come a time when he'd have to go for the non-players as well, but he'd jump that hurdle when he came around to it. Goodness knows, it wasn't like they wouldn't become killers at that point either. Not if they wanted to survive. There'd be more than enough murderers to keep him busy all the way to the end, he figured.
And wouldn't you know it, but there were three people coming up sooner than he expected. Lacking anything resembling a weapon, George opted to approach quietly. Not so easy a task, given his size, but he made due. As he approached, he contemplated what he could use as a weapon, finally just picking up a largish rock. The thing had a nice edge on it, almost designed for smashing into people's skulls. It wouldn't be too useful against guns, but if he got close up, he could see himself doing a bit of damage with this. Assuming they didn't kill him the instant they saw him. It was impossible to tell these days.
George had heard the announcement as he was moving across the island. Sebastian was dead, and it served him right. That was perfectly fine by him, and props to whoever it was that did the deed. Now that the scumbag was gone, there was only one objective left for George on this stupid island: Survival. He'd heard something or other about people who were trying to fight against the game, but all that meant to him was that they'd blow themselves up over angering their host. This made them, in his approximation, a non-issue. One less person for him to worry about as he fought his way to the end.
He'd be good about it, of course. People who were killers or otherwise violent would get the axe, but he'd let peaceable people go. Simple plan, and it probably wouldn't be hard to figure out who was who. Just pay attention to who was waving a gun in his face. Granted, there'd come a time when he'd have to go for the non-players as well, but he'd jump that hurdle when he came around to it. Goodness knows, it wasn't like they wouldn't become killers at that point either. Not if they wanted to survive. There'd be more than enough murderers to keep him busy all the way to the end, he figured.
And wouldn't you know it, but there were three people coming up sooner than he expected. Lacking anything resembling a weapon, George opted to approach quietly. Not so easy a task, given his size, but he made due. As he approached, he contemplated what he could use as a weapon, finally just picking up a largish rock. The thing had a nice edge on it, almost designed for smashing into people's skulls. It wouldn't be too useful against guns, but if he got close up, he could see himself doing a bit of damage with this. Assuming they didn't kill him the instant they saw him. It was impossible to tell these days.
-
Killer_Moth†
- Posts: 259
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 8:22 am
As Tiffany approached, Quince felt his heart beat faster. She had agreed to stay with him, even as he had willingly given up everything so that she could be safer. He stood and moved towards her, touched by her show of faith in him. Was this the start of something deeper? He hoped so. After all, it had been a while they'd been together constantly now, and with everything they'd been through...
Placing his hands gently on her hips, he smiled at her. "Thanks. I'm glad you stayed. Don't know how well I'd don on my own." He was unsure of where to go from here. Could he move in to kiss her, or wait for her. He thought he'd made his intentions quite clear at this point.
As he waited to see what she did, he began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up, as they had often done during his matches. Of course they were. It was nothing to be worried about. How many times had he been told, after all, that fighting and fucking were very similar? Still, given their situation, he tried to listen out for anything that would mean he'd have to grab for the rifle. But not now. Not when he finally had a shot here.
Placing his hands gently on her hips, he smiled at her. "Thanks. I'm glad you stayed. Don't know how well I'd don on my own." He was unsure of where to go from here. Could he move in to kiss her, or wait for her. He thought he'd made his intentions quite clear at this point.
As he waited to see what she did, he began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up, as they had often done during his matches. Of course they were. It was nothing to be worried about. How many times had he been told, after all, that fighting and fucking were very similar? Still, given their situation, he tried to listen out for anything that would mean he'd have to grab for the rifle. But not now. Not when he finally had a shot here.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Killer_Moth. 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.
[Girl #48 - Kaitlin Anderheim. Continued from Even the Best Fall Down Sometimes.
Sorry for the delay, been a little hectic lately. I'll try to keep my posts closer to T-Fox's after this, just to keep order a little more linear. Hope that's alright.]
Traveling with Peter was always interesting. At least, Kaitlin saw it that way. They never really managed to get back on the right track, but they got a bit closer to it this time than the last few times they had set out. Maybe it was just the place they were in or the stress of the situation or maybe it was something else entirely, but reading the maps and actually following them didn't seem to be their strong suit. But it was interesting, and Kaitlin certainly wasn't going to complain any time soon. She was used to being on her feet all the time, and she was a big girl. She could handle traveling. She didn't need to bring up every little issue with Peter.
Well, not every issue.
When they made camp that night, it was a lot colder than any other night since they'd been together. Without a fire, they were alone out there in the dark, in the cold. Kaitlin stayed next to Peter the whole time and when it came down to sleeping arrangements, she made sure that she was right there next to him the entire time. He was warm, and it was cold out. Yeah. That was the reason. That was the reason. Still, it was nice. But it was just for warmth and safety.
Right?
Waking up the next morning was about as nice as it always was. That is, it wasn't very nice at all, save for the company. And the proximity of that company, to boot. Waking up next to Peter, with his arm wrapped around her... Kaitlin felt more than just safe, or warm. She was happy. At least, as happy as she could be in this hell hole. But happy none-the-less. The announcement that morning was a little off-putting, knowing that she had outlived over half her classmates. Hell, it was downright disturbing. Not just the fact that she had outlived so many but the fact that she was happy about it.
What was wrong with her?
When breakfast came, she was quiet, for once, and just focused on her meager meal of bread and water. She had a few crackers left. She made sure to share those with Peter, not matter how much he protested. He was sweet, but he would never win a fight against Kaitlin. She was just too stubborn to let him say no. But other than trying to convince Peter to accept what she was sharing with him, she remained quiet. She just didn't feel right after that announcement.
She outlived so many of her classmates... so many of her fellow students... so many people who she knew, sort of.
She outlived them all and she was happy. Happy that she was alive. Happy that she survived where they did not. What was wrong with her?
Kaitlin snapped out of her little world when Peter stopped and held up his hand. She knew that sign. She was supposed to stop. Simple enough to do. He motioned for her to keep quiet, something she was already keen on doing, afraid of saying anything lest she give away how she felt that morning. She didn't want Peter to hate her. Crouching low next to Peter was almost reflex, she didn't even pay attention to his hand motions. It wasn't until she was right up next to him and squeezing his hand that she saw why he was being so cautious.
Other people.
After almost two days alone, they had found other people.
Other people who were armed.
Other people who were dangerous.
Other people who had killed.
Other people who would kill them.
No, no. She couldn't think that way. It was wrong. It was wrong! She couldn't just jump to that. They would survive. They would survive and they would make it out of this. They would live through this, together.
They would live, and others would die.
As long as Kaitlin held Peter's hand, she didn't care what happened to everyone else. She knew why she was so happy to have survived. So happy to have lived for so long with Peter by her side. She knew. No matter what, she was staying with Peter. No matter what, she was surviving with him.
No matter what, they were getting that ice cream.
Sorry for the delay, been a little hectic lately. I'll try to keep my posts closer to T-Fox's after this, just to keep order a little more linear. Hope that's alright.]
Traveling with Peter was always interesting. At least, Kaitlin saw it that way. They never really managed to get back on the right track, but they got a bit closer to it this time than the last few times they had set out. Maybe it was just the place they were in or the stress of the situation or maybe it was something else entirely, but reading the maps and actually following them didn't seem to be their strong suit. But it was interesting, and Kaitlin certainly wasn't going to complain any time soon. She was used to being on her feet all the time, and she was a big girl. She could handle traveling. She didn't need to bring up every little issue with Peter.
Well, not every issue.
When they made camp that night, it was a lot colder than any other night since they'd been together. Without a fire, they were alone out there in the dark, in the cold. Kaitlin stayed next to Peter the whole time and when it came down to sleeping arrangements, she made sure that she was right there next to him the entire time. He was warm, and it was cold out. Yeah. That was the reason. That was the reason. Still, it was nice. But it was just for warmth and safety.
Right?
Waking up the next morning was about as nice as it always was. That is, it wasn't very nice at all, save for the company. And the proximity of that company, to boot. Waking up next to Peter, with his arm wrapped around her... Kaitlin felt more than just safe, or warm. She was happy. At least, as happy as she could be in this hell hole. But happy none-the-less. The announcement that morning was a little off-putting, knowing that she had outlived over half her classmates. Hell, it was downright disturbing. Not just the fact that she had outlived so many but the fact that she was happy about it.
What was wrong with her?
When breakfast came, she was quiet, for once, and just focused on her meager meal of bread and water. She had a few crackers left. She made sure to share those with Peter, not matter how much he protested. He was sweet, but he would never win a fight against Kaitlin. She was just too stubborn to let him say no. But other than trying to convince Peter to accept what she was sharing with him, she remained quiet. She just didn't feel right after that announcement.
She outlived so many of her classmates... so many of her fellow students... so many people who she knew, sort of.
She outlived them all and she was happy. Happy that she was alive. Happy that she survived where they did not. What was wrong with her?
Kaitlin snapped out of her little world when Peter stopped and held up his hand. She knew that sign. She was supposed to stop. Simple enough to do. He motioned for her to keep quiet, something she was already keen on doing, afraid of saying anything lest she give away how she felt that morning. She didn't want Peter to hate her. Crouching low next to Peter was almost reflex, she didn't even pay attention to his hand motions. It wasn't until she was right up next to him and squeezing his hand that she saw why he was being so cautious.
Other people.
After almost two days alone, they had found other people.
Other people who were armed.
Other people who were dangerous.
Other people who had killed.
Other people who would kill them.
No, no. She couldn't think that way. It was wrong. It was wrong! She couldn't just jump to that. They would survive. They would survive and they would make it out of this. They would live through this, together.
They would live, and others would die.
As long as Kaitlin held Peter's hand, she didn't care what happened to everyone else. She knew why she was so happy to have survived. So happy to have lived for so long with Peter by her side. She knew. No matter what, she was staying with Peter. No matter what, she was surviving with him.
No matter what, they were getting that ice cream.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Dr. Nic. 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.
(Breaking post order due to being kept waiting a week. Seriously, people!)
More people. Wasn't it always the way? Even if George happened to spot a killer in this crowd, the sheer density of folks would make any attempt to attack them nigh on suicide. Best just to back out now, before he got in over his head.
But this encounter wasn't a total waste. As he drew himself away, George set about acquiring large rocks of similar size to his first one for use in later encounters. Just a dozen of them increased the weight of his pack significantly, but he knew that they'd be worth it if he ever got into a fight. Goodness knows, the kids packing assault rifles were probably feeling the strain of their packs around this point in the game. George was lucky to get a lightweight wallet, as he was still feeling relatively fresh.
And so, despite having accomplished not much of anything, the wannabe adventurer still felt somewhat high-spirited about his new mission. He'd find someone who was alone and evil, and he'd be certain to put them out of their misery, thanks to this new weapon of his. The plan had not been altered in the slightest. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to depend on rocks for the entire game, that's all.
(George Leidman continued in There's Always Room in the Swamp!)
More people. Wasn't it always the way? Even if George happened to spot a killer in this crowd, the sheer density of folks would make any attempt to attack them nigh on suicide. Best just to back out now, before he got in over his head.
But this encounter wasn't a total waste. As he drew himself away, George set about acquiring large rocks of similar size to his first one for use in later encounters. Just a dozen of them increased the weight of his pack significantly, but he knew that they'd be worth it if he ever got into a fight. Goodness knows, the kids packing assault rifles were probably feeling the strain of their packs around this point in the game. George was lucky to get a lightweight wallet, as he was still feeling relatively fresh.
And so, despite having accomplished not much of anything, the wannabe adventurer still felt somewhat high-spirited about his new mission. He'd find someone who was alone and evil, and he'd be certain to put them out of their misery, thanks to this new weapon of his. The plan had not been altered in the slightest. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to depend on rocks for the entire game, that's all.
(George Leidman continued in There's Always Room in the Swamp!)
"Thanks. I'm glad you stayed. Don't know how well I'd do on my own."
He was ... he was in! He was on her side one hundred precent. Perfect. She'd have let him do whatever he wanted with her at that point (and Tiffany had the proverbial three guesses as to what that was), except for two things - he didn't feel comfortable with it, at least not one hundred precent, and even if she did, as she looked past Quincy, she noticed other people.
Perfect. It had been one thing after Quincy's first kill, when having other people around would have made things a little awkward, but now, he, and by association she, was a target. Tiffany closed her eyes and shook her head before looking up at Quincy.
"You're welcome. But," Tiffany placed a finger on Quincy's lips. "Whatever it is you're thinking of, it'll have to wait." Tiffany motioned towards the figures that she'd seen. "Come on, this way." Tiffany picked up her things and got out of there.
Is there no justice in this world?
((Tiffany Chanders continued in Legoland Empire))
He was ... he was in! He was on her side one hundred precent. Perfect. She'd have let him do whatever he wanted with her at that point (and Tiffany had the proverbial three guesses as to what that was), except for two things - he didn't feel comfortable with it, at least not one hundred precent, and even if she did, as she looked past Quincy, she noticed other people.
Perfect. It had been one thing after Quincy's first kill, when having other people around would have made things a little awkward, but now, he, and by association she, was a target. Tiffany closed her eyes and shook her head before looking up at Quincy.
"You're welcome. But," Tiffany placed a finger on Quincy's lips. "Whatever it is you're thinking of, it'll have to wait." Tiffany motioned towards the figures that she'd seen. "Come on, this way." Tiffany picked up her things and got out of there.
Is there no justice in this world?
((Tiffany Chanders continued in Legoland Empire))
Survivor: UCONN - Seriously, it's awesome!
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
Version 8
Kaede Tsurumi: "Eeep! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll try not to get in your w-way next time!"
Morgan Whitney
Tyler Slomkowski
Victor Grail: "I didn't give you the lead so that you could lose it! I guess it's up to me to carry us after all."
And just as quickly as he had arrived, they were all leaving. It was obvious at least the new, approaching boy had noticed them. Peter's gaze turned to him as he watched the boy stoop and shovel something into his bag, before awkwardly shifting it on his back and departing again as if he were only an apparition.
He crept a few inches closer to the other two, squinting his eyes to try to bring them into focus. If he could just see their faces... One boy and one girl. They appeared to be embracing. He just couldn't make out their fa-oh shit that was a rifle.
How could he have not noticed it before? There it was, leaning against a stump, it's surprisingly pristine wooden finish glinting in the sunlight. Peter's entire focus was on that weapon. There was no hand upon it, which meant that there was no sniper aiming for their heads. Not that he could do a damn thing if there was besides run. Run like they had been running.
The warmth and gentle pressure on Peter's hand as Katlin took it into hers snapped him out of his morbid, fearful train of thought. They'd be fine, they had to. Didn't give him an excuse to not be cautious though. His eyes glued to the pair as they shared what looked to be an extremely intimate moment. He watched the girl raise her hand to the male, and then glance over his shoulder. Right at them. Her gaze was boring into him, and for a split second the world stopped turning. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind.
"Should I run?"
"Should I dive for cover? Shit. There's absolutely nothing to hide behind."
"...Should I push Katlin behind me? I'll be her shield."
Before he could act or say a word though, the girl spun on her heel and left, scooping up her belongings on the way. But that rifle was still there. That rifle belonged to him. He could still open fire.
No. That wouldn't make sense. Look at the touch they had just shared. He would follow her. He would leave them alone.
He still remained perfectly still, eyes glued to Quincy as he began to move. Ready to spring away at a moment's notice.
He crept a few inches closer to the other two, squinting his eyes to try to bring them into focus. If he could just see their faces... One boy and one girl. They appeared to be embracing. He just couldn't make out their fa-oh shit that was a rifle.
How could he have not noticed it before? There it was, leaning against a stump, it's surprisingly pristine wooden finish glinting in the sunlight. Peter's entire focus was on that weapon. There was no hand upon it, which meant that there was no sniper aiming for their heads. Not that he could do a damn thing if there was besides run. Run like they had been running.
The warmth and gentle pressure on Peter's hand as Katlin took it into hers snapped him out of his morbid, fearful train of thought. They'd be fine, they had to. Didn't give him an excuse to not be cautious though. His eyes glued to the pair as they shared what looked to be an extremely intimate moment. He watched the girl raise her hand to the male, and then glance over his shoulder. Right at them. Her gaze was boring into him, and for a split second the world stopped turning. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind.
"Should I run?"
"Should I dive for cover? Shit. There's absolutely nothing to hide behind."
"...Should I push Katlin behind me? I'll be her shield."
Before he could act or say a word though, the girl spun on her heel and left, scooping up her belongings on the way. But that rifle was still there. That rifle belonged to him. He could still open fire.
No. That wouldn't make sense. Look at the touch they had just shared. He would follow her. He would leave them alone.
He still remained perfectly still, eyes glued to Quincy as he began to move. Ready to spring away at a moment's notice.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. 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.
-
Killer_Moth†
- Posts: 259
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 8:22 am
Quince relaxed as Tiffany responded to his overture. It wasn't quite the response that he'd wanted, but it was enough for now. She might have been leading him on, but he honestly didn't care. She was there, and there was enough of a promise for him to follow her wherever she wanted to go.
As Tiffany left, Quince allowed his head to look where she had been indicating. A couple of other kids had been watching. From a discreet distance, but that they had escaped his notice was something to worry about. He said nothing, but reached for the rifle.
He moved slowly in case either of the newcomers got nervous. Once he'd picked up the rifle, he kept it pointed away from them. He didn't want a confrontation delaying him from getting to Tiffany, and whatever she had planned for them. He grabbed his backpack and backed away slowly. These two would live for a while longer at least.
((Quincy Jones cont'd in Legoland Empire))
As Tiffany left, Quince allowed his head to look where she had been indicating. A couple of other kids had been watching. From a discreet distance, but that they had escaped his notice was something to worry about. He said nothing, but reached for the rifle.
He moved slowly in case either of the newcomers got nervous. Once he'd picked up the rifle, he kept it pointed away from them. He didn't want a confrontation delaying him from getting to Tiffany, and whatever she had planned for them. He grabbed his backpack and backed away slowly. These two would live for a while longer at least.
((Quincy Jones cont'd in Legoland Empire))
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Her breath caught in her throat.
He's going to shoot us.
Quincy was holding the rifle.
He's going to kill us.
She watched him pick it up.
After all this, we're going to die?
She shut her eyes tight, and squeezed Peter' hand.
But the shot never came. She waited. But still, it never came.
"...We're okay?"
Slowly, Kaitlin opened her eyes and watched Quincy leave, looked around and saw no one else around. They were alone again. They were alone out there and honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way. She preferred to be alone with Peter instead of around those other people. She couldn't trust those other people. Neither of them could afford to trust other people. It was just the way things worked out in this game. Don't trust anyone. But they'd broken that rule long ago, and Kaitlin felt better for it. She trusted Peter with everything. With her life. With her safety. With everything.
Even with her heart.
Realizing that she was edging on crushing his hand, Kaitlin released her grip on Peter and let out a rather large sigh of relief. She no longer had to be so tense and she could let herself relax a little. They weren't in any immediate danger and it looked like nothing would be getting in their way again. Maybe... maybe they could actually make it to the sawmill today. Maybe they could actually reach a destination they had in mind. Even if she didn't want to. But she kept her misgivings about what they were going to do to herself. It had to be done. It had to be done.
Didn't it?
Shaking her head, she tried to turn her thoughts to something a little more lighthearted. Something a little more normal. Something like a shower. Bathing at the beach the other day was fine, but she would love a hot shower. Or any shower, really. But a hot one would be perfect right about now. Wash away all the stress and worry and fear. Wash away all the dirt and bad memories and horrible things. Spend the night in an actual bed.
"Well... um... what now?"
She was uneasy, but Kaitlin still flashed a smile to Peter.
"It looks... safe. Should we keep going?"
Cautiously, she looked around. Then started to stand up. Always cautious. But things looked safe. Things looked okay. She half expected to get shot the moment she stood up, but everything seemed okay for now. Everything was going to be alright.
For now.
"I don't like this Peter..."
Kaitlin sighed again, and idly rubbed her neck. She followed the chain around her neck down to the locket that hung from her neck, tracing it's outline against her jacket. Or Peter's jacket, rather, but she hadn't ever actually given it back. He didn't seem to mind, and it was a comfortable jacket.
"I don't like it here."
Talk about understatements.
"Can... can we go home?"
It certainly seemed uncertain now, didn't it?
He's going to shoot us.
Quincy was holding the rifle.
He's going to kill us.
She watched him pick it up.
After all this, we're going to die?
She shut her eyes tight, and squeezed Peter' hand.
But the shot never came. She waited. But still, it never came.
"...We're okay?"
Slowly, Kaitlin opened her eyes and watched Quincy leave, looked around and saw no one else around. They were alone again. They were alone out there and honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way. She preferred to be alone with Peter instead of around those other people. She couldn't trust those other people. Neither of them could afford to trust other people. It was just the way things worked out in this game. Don't trust anyone. But they'd broken that rule long ago, and Kaitlin felt better for it. She trusted Peter with everything. With her life. With her safety. With everything.
Even with her heart.
Realizing that she was edging on crushing his hand, Kaitlin released her grip on Peter and let out a rather large sigh of relief. She no longer had to be so tense and she could let herself relax a little. They weren't in any immediate danger and it looked like nothing would be getting in their way again. Maybe... maybe they could actually make it to the sawmill today. Maybe they could actually reach a destination they had in mind. Even if she didn't want to. But she kept her misgivings about what they were going to do to herself. It had to be done. It had to be done.
Didn't it?
Shaking her head, she tried to turn her thoughts to something a little more lighthearted. Something a little more normal. Something like a shower. Bathing at the beach the other day was fine, but she would love a hot shower. Or any shower, really. But a hot one would be perfect right about now. Wash away all the stress and worry and fear. Wash away all the dirt and bad memories and horrible things. Spend the night in an actual bed.
"Well... um... what now?"
She was uneasy, but Kaitlin still flashed a smile to Peter.
"It looks... safe. Should we keep going?"
Cautiously, she looked around. Then started to stand up. Always cautious. But things looked safe. Things looked okay. She half expected to get shot the moment she stood up, but everything seemed okay for now. Everything was going to be alright.
For now.
"I don't like this Peter..."
Kaitlin sighed again, and idly rubbed her neck. She followed the chain around her neck down to the locket that hung from her neck, tracing it's outline against her jacket. Or Peter's jacket, rather, but she hadn't ever actually given it back. He didn't seem to mind, and it was a comfortable jacket.
"I don't like it here."
Talk about understatements.
"Can... can we go home?"
It certainly seemed uncertain now, didn't it?
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((Mike Maszer continued from Aching Chest and Blurry Sight))
Mike made very good time down the mountain. The fear and adrenaline kept him going. He hadn't seen much of a sign of Maxwell in some time, but he couldn't go back. If the killer had chosen to continue upwards, had killed Mike's allies, well, then he was the only one who knew the remainder of the plan. He had to spread it before something happened to him. He had to do something.
He was in the felled forest, the southern side, on the mountain's northern slope. He could see people leaving. He could also see some other people standing around. No way to tell who they were. They had to be better than Maxwell, but that wasn't saying much.
It would be better to take a slow, stealthy approach here. Unless, of course, some killer popped up guns blazing and shot him from behind. Still, that was looking less likely by the second.
So Mike, still breathing heavily, started creeping towards the people. He wasn't keeping too low a profile, so they might well notice him, but he certainly wasn't drawing attention to himself.
Mike made very good time down the mountain. The fear and adrenaline kept him going. He hadn't seen much of a sign of Maxwell in some time, but he couldn't go back. If the killer had chosen to continue upwards, had killed Mike's allies, well, then he was the only one who knew the remainder of the plan. He had to spread it before something happened to him. He had to do something.
He was in the felled forest, the southern side, on the mountain's northern slope. He could see people leaving. He could also see some other people standing around. No way to tell who they were. They had to be better than Maxwell, but that wasn't saying much.
It would be better to take a slow, stealthy approach here. Unless, of course, some killer popped up guns blazing and shot him from behind. Still, that was looking less likely by the second.
So Mike, still breathing heavily, started creeping towards the people. He wasn't keeping too low a profile, so they might well notice him, but he certainly wasn't drawing attention to himself.
((All GMing approved by Dr. Nic.))
Suddenly, just like that, they were alone. The boy with the rifle had departed too. Peter finally allowed himself to let out that long held breath, nervousness washing quickly away from him. It almost looked as if the other boy had made a point to keep the rifle pointed low... Try to not seem threatening.
He mentally slapped himself for having been so paranoid to have automatically assumed the other a killer. These weren't prisoners or murderers. These were his classmates! The only one who had really transcended that in his mind was Maxwell. He had killed what, 11? 12? Four percent of the Bayview Secondary class of 2008. That didn't sound like all that much. But when you consider that only half of them were still around... That was still close to 10 percent of all the kills so far. There was no way he wasn't enjoying what he was doing.
Alas, as Quincy left the area, Peter almost immediately plopped down on a nearby stump and took in a deep breath, attempting to relax away the stress that had built up so rapidly. The sight of that rifle had quickly reminded him of his own mortality. Until they were no longer kept in bondage by the bastards who were ultimately responsible for all of this, they were in serious danger of dying. They had been extremely lucky to have so many days alone. And together.
Hell. Even after the collars were removed... They were still in massive danger.
He shook his head.
"I don't like this Peter... I don't like it here. Can... can we go home?"
He turned towards the voice he had come to know so well over the past week. It was really hard to believe it had only been a week. He felt like he knew her so well, better than he had ever known anyone before...
And as his gaze met hers, he realized that she was right there. Sure she had been the entire time, but it seemed to finally hit him that she was right there. Only a foot away, gazing right into his eyes. The sudden awareness caused a little bit of a blush to creep over his face.
"Y-Yeah. We'll be home soon Katlin. I promise."
She was kneeling down next to him. Her visage, closer and closer... He was nearly mesmerized, that flush on his cheeks growing a little brighter still. Any other day, back at Bayview, he would have averted his gaze and quickly shuffled away. Not worthy, he would tell himself. You're not worth her time; she's out of your league.
Especially with someone so beautiful and kind as Katlin. But... Something was different.
"I-I feel like I know you so well, even though it's only been a week..." His hand grasped hers. He felt her hand squeeze around his, a little sign of affection. He could feel his skin rubbing against hers as he pretty much shook like a leaf from embarrassment and nervousness.
Little Peter McCue. Never had a girlfriend. Picked on, teased, a year younger than he really should have been, was now looking into the eyes of the prettiest girl that would ever come from Bayview, hands down. At least in his opinion.
When did their faces get this close?
He felt a soft, slight contact on his lips. All he could see was her eyes, such a deep green. He could get lost there forever... And then realization yet again. He had just shared his first kiss on camera, with millions upon millions watching across the entire globe. He shook a little as he pulled his head back, never breaking that eye contact.
Unable to come up with any words, he just offered her a warm smile. A little awkward, but warm and inviting. And despite the chaos, destruction, and death going on around them, for just a moment the world stopped, and the poor little boy's heart fluttered.
Suddenly, just like that, they were alone. The boy with the rifle had departed too. Peter finally allowed himself to let out that long held breath, nervousness washing quickly away from him. It almost looked as if the other boy had made a point to keep the rifle pointed low... Try to not seem threatening.
He mentally slapped himself for having been so paranoid to have automatically assumed the other a killer. These weren't prisoners or murderers. These were his classmates! The only one who had really transcended that in his mind was Maxwell. He had killed what, 11? 12? Four percent of the Bayview Secondary class of 2008. That didn't sound like all that much. But when you consider that only half of them were still around... That was still close to 10 percent of all the kills so far. There was no way he wasn't enjoying what he was doing.
Alas, as Quincy left the area, Peter almost immediately plopped down on a nearby stump and took in a deep breath, attempting to relax away the stress that had built up so rapidly. The sight of that rifle had quickly reminded him of his own mortality. Until they were no longer kept in bondage by the bastards who were ultimately responsible for all of this, they were in serious danger of dying. They had been extremely lucky to have so many days alone. And together.
Hell. Even after the collars were removed... They were still in massive danger.
He shook his head.
"I don't like this Peter... I don't like it here. Can... can we go home?"
He turned towards the voice he had come to know so well over the past week. It was really hard to believe it had only been a week. He felt like he knew her so well, better than he had ever known anyone before...
And as his gaze met hers, he realized that she was right there. Sure she had been the entire time, but it seemed to finally hit him that she was right there. Only a foot away, gazing right into his eyes. The sudden awareness caused a little bit of a blush to creep over his face.
"Y-Yeah. We'll be home soon Katlin. I promise."
She was kneeling down next to him. Her visage, closer and closer... He was nearly mesmerized, that flush on his cheeks growing a little brighter still. Any other day, back at Bayview, he would have averted his gaze and quickly shuffled away. Not worthy, he would tell himself. You're not worth her time; she's out of your league.
Especially with someone so beautiful and kind as Katlin. But... Something was different.
"I-I feel like I know you so well, even though it's only been a week..." His hand grasped hers. He felt her hand squeeze around his, a little sign of affection. He could feel his skin rubbing against hers as he pretty much shook like a leaf from embarrassment and nervousness.
Little Peter McCue. Never had a girlfriend. Picked on, teased, a year younger than he really should have been, was now looking into the eyes of the prettiest girl that would ever come from Bayview, hands down. At least in his opinion.
When did their faces get this close?
He felt a soft, slight contact on his lips. All he could see was her eyes, such a deep green. He could get lost there forever... And then realization yet again. He had just shared his first kiss on camera, with millions upon millions watching across the entire globe. He shook a little as he pulled his head back, never breaking that eye contact.
Unable to come up with any words, he just offered her a warm smile. A little awkward, but warm and inviting. And despite the chaos, destruction, and death going on around them, for just a moment the world stopped, and the poor little boy's heart fluttered.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler T-Fox. 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.
((Joe Rios continued from The Lost Boys))
Joe Rios wandered. The felled forest was a decent walk away from the mine, but that was good. Gave him time. Time he needed.
His mind was on nothing in particular. This was for the best. He didn't want to think about Rose. He didn't want to think about his family. He didn't want to think about how much of a fucking bastard Danya was.
He'd gotten enough of that already. All he wanted was to rest.
A figure in the distance caught his eye. A man with long blonde hair. Joe walked towards the man. Slowly. Methodically, like a convicted murderer heading to the gallows.
"Hey, you. Kill me," he said quietly.
Joe wondered how it was going to end. Would it be quick, like the girl Cisco killed? It was the best he could hope for, although he had a feeling nipping at the back of his mind that he didn't deserve it. He'd abandoned the first person on this island who'd trusted him, and he was too late to save one of the few people he truly loved. It would be a disgrace for him to not feel their suffering.
Without realizing it, he swallowed. His heart was beating faster than he'd ever felt before; this was the ultimate "fuck you" to Danya's sick little game, and he was living it.
The only way to win is not to play, he thought.
Joe Rios wandered. The felled forest was a decent walk away from the mine, but that was good. Gave him time. Time he needed.
His mind was on nothing in particular. This was for the best. He didn't want to think about Rose. He didn't want to think about his family. He didn't want to think about how much of a fucking bastard Danya was.
He'd gotten enough of that already. All he wanted was to rest.
A figure in the distance caught his eye. A man with long blonde hair. Joe walked towards the man. Slowly. Methodically, like a convicted murderer heading to the gallows.
"Hey, you. Kill me," he said quietly.
Joe wondered how it was going to end. Would it be quick, like the girl Cisco killed? It was the best he could hope for, although he had a feeling nipping at the back of his mind that he didn't deserve it. He'd abandoned the first person on this island who'd trusted him, and he was too late to save one of the few people he truly loved. It would be a disgrace for him to not feel their suffering.
Without realizing it, he swallowed. His heart was beating faster than he'd ever felt before; this was the ultimate "fuck you" to Danya's sick little game, and he was living it.
The only way to win is not to play, he thought.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Sean. 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.
[Yes, I suck. Sorry for the delay in getting this out. This week has been hectic.]
When had the mood of the situation changed so much? Without even realizing it, Kaitlin noticed that she was alone with Peter and alone was how she liked it. Maybe it was the boy with the gun, or panic and fear she felt when she saw him. Maybe. But whatever had caused it, the two of them were a lot closer than they had been since they got up that morning. And she liked it that way. Being next to Peter. Being close to him.
Has it really only been a week?
A week on the island with only one person she could trust, only one person she could really count on. Being protected and watched over, being taken care of. If it weren't for Peter, she would have likely died a long time ago. If it weren't for Peter, she would probably still be in those dark tunnels, alone and afraid with no one by her side. Peter saved her so many times already. So many times. He really was her savior.
Funny, she didn't remember getting this close.
Nor did she remember moving so close and...
and...
Wow. So, this would be her first kiss then, huh? At least, the first one that seemed to really matter. It was... nice. She didn't quite know what to do afterward, and it didn't look like Peter did either, but trading smiles wouldn't do much for their situation. So, Kaitlin decided to be the one to make the next move and, after a moment, slung her arms around Peter. And she just sat there for as long as she could with her arms wrapped tight around him.
"Thank you, Peter."
She whispered to him.
"Thank you for everything. For staying with me. For protecting me. For always being there for me..."
By now, she was sure. It was more than simple caring. It was more than simply being friends. But she couldn't bring herself to admit it, to say it to him, to tell him how she felt. But that didn't stop her from trying to show it, even if she was, for the most part, simply fumbling her way through it all. Silly things from stories and TV shows, from movies and even the rare romance novel kept slipping in to her head as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to do in this situation. So many things seemed so out there or so inappropriate though that Kaitlin was left with nothing to show for her sudden silence. Even the simplest of things didn't seem like they would work, either not being enough or being too much. God, this was hard.
Why couldn't life be simple and easy?
Of course, finding a place where they could actually be alone, where they could actually feel safe, would probably make working through whatever it was she was feeling so much easier. But as long as they were out there in the wilderness, even if the wilderness had long since been clear cut, Kaitlin would always be looking over her shoulder. Or over Peter's shoulder, in this case.
"...Um, Peter?"
She eased away from him, and pointed.
"I think we have company."
Three's company...
Four is a crowd.
When had the mood of the situation changed so much? Without even realizing it, Kaitlin noticed that she was alone with Peter and alone was how she liked it. Maybe it was the boy with the gun, or panic and fear she felt when she saw him. Maybe. But whatever had caused it, the two of them were a lot closer than they had been since they got up that morning. And she liked it that way. Being next to Peter. Being close to him.
Has it really only been a week?
A week on the island with only one person she could trust, only one person she could really count on. Being protected and watched over, being taken care of. If it weren't for Peter, she would have likely died a long time ago. If it weren't for Peter, she would probably still be in those dark tunnels, alone and afraid with no one by her side. Peter saved her so many times already. So many times. He really was her savior.
Funny, she didn't remember getting this close.
Nor did she remember moving so close and...
and...
Wow. So, this would be her first kiss then, huh? At least, the first one that seemed to really matter. It was... nice. She didn't quite know what to do afterward, and it didn't look like Peter did either, but trading smiles wouldn't do much for their situation. So, Kaitlin decided to be the one to make the next move and, after a moment, slung her arms around Peter. And she just sat there for as long as she could with her arms wrapped tight around him.
"Thank you, Peter."
She whispered to him.
"Thank you for everything. For staying with me. For protecting me. For always being there for me..."
By now, she was sure. It was more than simple caring. It was more than simply being friends. But she couldn't bring herself to admit it, to say it to him, to tell him how she felt. But that didn't stop her from trying to show it, even if she was, for the most part, simply fumbling her way through it all. Silly things from stories and TV shows, from movies and even the rare romance novel kept slipping in to her head as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to do in this situation. So many things seemed so out there or so inappropriate though that Kaitlin was left with nothing to show for her sudden silence. Even the simplest of things didn't seem like they would work, either not being enough or being too much. God, this was hard.
Why couldn't life be simple and easy?
Of course, finding a place where they could actually be alone, where they could actually feel safe, would probably make working through whatever it was she was feeling so much easier. But as long as they were out there in the wilderness, even if the wilderness had long since been clear cut, Kaitlin would always be looking over her shoulder. Or over Peter's shoulder, in this case.
"...Um, Peter?"
She eased away from him, and pointed.
"I think we have company."
Three's company...
Four is a crowd.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Dr. Nic. 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.