((Clarice Halwood continued from Why We Fight.))
People did follow her. Clarice didn't know if that was smart of them, but she wasn't going to say no. Maybe it was even good, to be accompanied by people she didn't have mixed feelings for right now.
Now, if only she knew what the fuck she was doing.
She was just wandering around, if she was totally honest. Wandering around in a way that suggested purpose. And she had a purpose, she just... couldn't figure out the method.
They'd stopped for the night and taken turns keeping watch. Clarice hadn't spent most of that time sleeping. She'd just laid there and stared at the sky, and tried to figure out what to do.
She'd had some bizarre temporary notion that the radio tower might help, so once the announcements had played she'd started to head towards there. Insisting that it could help, perhaps. Or that it was a good a start as any. She didn't have much hope that they'd work. The terrorists wouldn't be that stupid. Even so, her brain just kept tickling. She felt like there was a solution on the tip of her tongue, she just couldn't quite find it.
The announcements were a distraction. Kimiko had murdered again. And not just anyone. She'd murdered Caleb, someone that was a friend of hers. That just didn't... it didn't mix with what had happened yesterday. Or had Kimiko only not taken the chance to kill Clarice because she'd been outnumbered and outgunned?
"What are you doing?" Clarice had muttered to herself.
And now her brain was all off-kilter again. Shit. It didn't matter. Well, it did. But Clarice couldn't be thinking of that now. Was it because of that focus that the rest of the announcements didn't sting as much as the prior days? Or was that just the fifth stage of grief?
The announcements faded, and they approached the radio tower. It was safe now. Clarice just walked in without asking the others to fiddle with the control panel. She wasn't really sure if they said anything about the announcements. It was a struggle to focus. She felt warm, for some reason. Slightly light-headed. Sweat trickling down her face. She dismissed it as after-effects of the rain and lack of sleep, and ignored the persistent itch in the axe wound in her shoulder.
If It Bleeds, It Leads
(Private)
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
((Jennifer Wallace continued from Why We Fight))
Kimiko Kao had killed again. First of the day, too. By the sound of things, it was a boyfriend, or at least something similar. Not even love could withstand the island. So, friendships? They were probably even less sturdy. Maybe, Jennifer thought, it wasn't a good idea for Clarice to look for Kimiko anymore, based off what had happened?
But, after the announcements, they'd headed to the radio tower. It was somewhat of a foregone conclusion that it would no longer work, though. Obviously, the terrorists had thought of deactivating it so that it couldn't be used by them. Maybe there was a way of making it active again, but Jennifer couldn't think of anything.
It was worth a shot, though, at least? Just to see what's in there. She doubted that there was a generator nearby. The terrorists would think of removing or deactivating it, too. And hey, at least they wouldn't be in the rain anymore.
After she had reached down to adjust a shoe for a few seconds, she slid back up to see Clarice numbly fiddling with the control panel. Of course, nothing budged. Again, the terrorists most likely deactivated it a long time ago. However, Jennifer noticed Clarice seemed... dazed.
Finding out your friend had killed more would probably make you feel terrible. The blood they'd seen on Kimiko, come to think of it, must have been Caleb's. It was the first announced, which meant that it was likely earlier in the day. She tried to remember who Caleb was. He was kind of a slobby looking boy, if she recalled correctly. Also, he seemed to insult people on a regular basis. Another possible case of provocation of some sort? Maybe he baited Kimiko somehow, which led to her killing him. However, if they were in a relationship of some sort, as Danya suggested, how and why could it happen? Maybe, again, you could just never trust anyone regardless of what your relationship was before.
Did that mean it was a good idea to stay with the group?
Jennifer shook that thought out of her head.
"Hey, Clarice..."
Again, Jennifer was at a loss. Sometimes, connecting with others was difficult. Her social skills weren't the worst by far, and she wasn't unemphatic. It was just that when it came to comforting people, especially in situations like this, she had no idea how to broach it. She remembered when she talked to Bart at the museum, about his health problems. He'd picked up on what she was thinking, that she didn't like the way he smelled. It wasn't the first time she didn't know what the correct thing to say to someone was, and it wasn't the last.
Sometimes, though, things were easier with information. It was a reason why she wanted to become a journalist. It was easy to come to conclusions based off vague details and emotions. But the more facts you knew about a situation, the easier it was to knowing the truth and making a good interpretation. Some part of her wanted to tell people the truth, to help them understand those facts. Some naïve part of her, one that could even still exist, had dreamed of finding some cover-up or conspiracy, and expose it to the world. She guessed that facts made things easier.
And right now, it was a fact that Clarice had a dazed look on her face.
Sometimes a simple question helped to get more facts.
"Are you feeling okay?"
Jennifer really needed a cup of coffee. Maybe that would make her head more clear.
Kimiko Kao had killed again. First of the day, too. By the sound of things, it was a boyfriend, or at least something similar. Not even love could withstand the island. So, friendships? They were probably even less sturdy. Maybe, Jennifer thought, it wasn't a good idea for Clarice to look for Kimiko anymore, based off what had happened?
But, after the announcements, they'd headed to the radio tower. It was somewhat of a foregone conclusion that it would no longer work, though. Obviously, the terrorists had thought of deactivating it so that it couldn't be used by them. Maybe there was a way of making it active again, but Jennifer couldn't think of anything.
It was worth a shot, though, at least? Just to see what's in there. She doubted that there was a generator nearby. The terrorists would think of removing or deactivating it, too. And hey, at least they wouldn't be in the rain anymore.
After she had reached down to adjust a shoe for a few seconds, she slid back up to see Clarice numbly fiddling with the control panel. Of course, nothing budged. Again, the terrorists most likely deactivated it a long time ago. However, Jennifer noticed Clarice seemed... dazed.
Finding out your friend had killed more would probably make you feel terrible. The blood they'd seen on Kimiko, come to think of it, must have been Caleb's. It was the first announced, which meant that it was likely earlier in the day. She tried to remember who Caleb was. He was kind of a slobby looking boy, if she recalled correctly. Also, he seemed to insult people on a regular basis. Another possible case of provocation of some sort? Maybe he baited Kimiko somehow, which led to her killing him. However, if they were in a relationship of some sort, as Danya suggested, how and why could it happen? Maybe, again, you could just never trust anyone regardless of what your relationship was before.
Did that mean it was a good idea to stay with the group?
Jennifer shook that thought out of her head.
"Hey, Clarice..."
Again, Jennifer was at a loss. Sometimes, connecting with others was difficult. Her social skills weren't the worst by far, and she wasn't unemphatic. It was just that when it came to comforting people, especially in situations like this, she had no idea how to broach it. She remembered when she talked to Bart at the museum, about his health problems. He'd picked up on what she was thinking, that she didn't like the way he smelled. It wasn't the first time she didn't know what the correct thing to say to someone was, and it wasn't the last.
Sometimes, though, things were easier with information. It was a reason why she wanted to become a journalist. It was easy to come to conclusions based off vague details and emotions. But the more facts you knew about a situation, the easier it was to knowing the truth and making a good interpretation. Some part of her wanted to tell people the truth, to help them understand those facts. Some naïve part of her, one that could even still exist, had dreamed of finding some cover-up or conspiracy, and expose it to the world. She guessed that facts made things easier.
And right now, it was a fact that Clarice had a dazed look on her face.
Sometimes a simple question helped to get more facts.
"Are you feeling okay?"
Jennifer really needed a cup of coffee. Maybe that would make her head more clear.
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 450
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
((Nancy Kyle continued from お元気ですか？))
Another day, another restless night. Nancy rubbed her eyes as she emerged from the storehouse. This couldn't... this couldn't continue. Nancy wished she could just rest for one day, but... no. That would be the end.
So she sorely moved. When the announcement played, she listened. She knew she wasn't going to be on them... but there was still some distant, delusional hope that it would happen.
The announcements ended, confirming her suspicions from yesterday. The northwest was no longer a danger zone... she started heading in that direction, trudging along until the buildings faded into view.
Something else also faded into view at the same time. Or rather someone.
Clarice. Clarice was there, and she was with a group of people.
Even if that incident from the first day hadn't been dragged to the front of mind from seeing her, Nancy would have followed them anyway.
She trailed them, trying to avoid being seen. Her eyes drifted to the radio tower, and she stared listlessly as they entered it.
She gulped, before sneaking toward the tower. She moved around to the entrance. The door was closed. The fingers on her right hand curled around the grip of the gun, before her other hand went for the door's handle. In one swift, rough motion, she pulled the door open and stepped in, raising the gun up.
"Hold it."
Another day, another restless night. Nancy rubbed her eyes as she emerged from the storehouse. This couldn't... this couldn't continue. Nancy wished she could just rest for one day, but... no. That would be the end.
So she sorely moved. When the announcement played, she listened. She knew she wasn't going to be on them... but there was still some distant, delusional hope that it would happen.
The announcements ended, confirming her suspicions from yesterday. The northwest was no longer a danger zone... she started heading in that direction, trudging along until the buildings faded into view.
Something else also faded into view at the same time. Or rather someone.
Clarice. Clarice was there, and she was with a group of people.
Even if that incident from the first day hadn't been dragged to the front of mind from seeing her, Nancy would have followed them anyway.
She trailed them, trying to avoid being seen. Her eyes drifted to the radio tower, and she stared listlessly as they entered it.
She gulped, before sneaking toward the tower. She moved around to the entrance. The door was closed. The fingers on her right hand curled around the grip of the gun, before her other hand went for the door's handle. In one swift, rough motion, she pulled the door open and stepped in, raising the gun up.
"Hold it."
((Skipping ahead to get this death going. If there are any issues, please let me know))
Someone was coming. Jennifer could hear footsteps, just outside. Her head flicked towards the door. She was standing close to it to begin with, but she stepped closer. But, that someone had already decided to show up. The door slammed open, revealing who it was. And unfortunately, Jennifer knew exactly who it was.
While keeping track of who was killing was somewhat difficult without writing everything down, there was one name that had consistently come up time and time again. That was Nancy Kyle. Scarlett was one of her victims, so was Sanford. Unlike Kimiko, it didn't sound like Nancy had any excuses. Maybe there were other factors that she didn't know about, but she didn't want to take any chances.
What was worse was, Nancy had a gun, pointed directly at them.
Once again, Jennifer had to think fast. If Nancy opened fire, it would mean up to four people could die here. Bart, Clarice, Kiziah, and her personally. All four, gone, with just a few shots.
Jennifer didn't even think. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew what she was going to do wasn't good, but it quickly slipped away. Instead she stepped forward, her heart pounding. Her lips curled, her fists clenched. She wasn't going to let Nancy do that.
She swung a foot towards Nancy's shin.
Someone was coming. Jennifer could hear footsteps, just outside. Her head flicked towards the door. She was standing close to it to begin with, but she stepped closer. But, that someone had already decided to show up. The door slammed open, revealing who it was. And unfortunately, Jennifer knew exactly who it was.
While keeping track of who was killing was somewhat difficult without writing everything down, there was one name that had consistently come up time and time again. That was Nancy Kyle. Scarlett was one of her victims, so was Sanford. Unlike Kimiko, it didn't sound like Nancy had any excuses. Maybe there were other factors that she didn't know about, but she didn't want to take any chances.
What was worse was, Nancy had a gun, pointed directly at them.
Once again, Jennifer had to think fast. If Nancy opened fire, it would mean up to four people could die here. Bart, Clarice, Kiziah, and her personally. All four, gone, with just a few shots.
Jennifer didn't even think. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew what she was going to do wasn't good, but it quickly slipped away. Instead she stepped forward, her heart pounding. Her lips curled, her fists clenched. She wasn't going to let Nancy do that.
She swung a foot towards Nancy's shin.
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
((Kiziah Saraki continued from Why We Fight.))
Already, Kiziah was beginning to sense a pattern. They travelled. They jumped at noises. They tried chatting, tried reminding one another of their fundamental humanity, tried bringing in some conversation that wasn't such pragmatic strategising. Tried doing something, squeezing some comfort and enjoyment out of this awful situation, tried getting some final positive memories out of this mess. And it just wouldn't click. It just wouldn't work. And again, as they had the previous night, they took shelter, drained and taxed, all silently dreading their alarm. And as if by clockwork, the announcement came on. More deaths. More destruction. More irreparable damage.
Was it cruel to tell them what was happening? Or it was a mild relief, some sign of their humanity seeping through, allowing people to identify the threats, to get some closure, to know not to embark on any fruitless rescue quests? Or was it manipulation? Kizi wanted to see the best in people, even now, but she wasn't stupid. The announcements were manipulation.
And Kimiko...seeing the good in her was also hard. "Must have been..." she said, in a lull after the announcement ended, but she let her words trickle down to nothing, covering her tracks by searching through her bag. The blood had been fresh. It must have been Caleb's. Maybe it was a sign of some decency, that she hadn't attacked her? Maybe Caleb had provoked it? No. She couldn't think that. It was unbecoming to think ill of the dead, to shift the blame onto them.
But it was still a routine. Trek, sleep, announcement. It was already in place, all but etched into stone. In a way, that was comforting, a strange source of solace. Patterns meant routines. Routines meant normalcy. Normalcy meant home. But she kept that thought to herself, for she realised it was nonsensical. Fallacious, perhaps. Maybe her mind playing tricks on her.
Maybe, and this was the scariest possibility, maybe she was already desensitised, even just hearing the turmoil from afar, filtered through the sardonic wordplay of a sociopathic monster, some devilish evil incarnate that tried lowering their guards by allowing them to be lured into such routines.
But maybe there was some truth in it. The other deaths barely fazed her. She grimaced and flinched with each one, feeling them more as a slap in the face than the tragedy they were. She found herself, rather disturbingly, thinking of them through a lens of clinical detachment, hardheaded pragmatism. Couldn't even muster up the energy to give them prayers or thoughts, there and then. She swallowed. Closed her eyes. Tried devoting a few seconds thought to picturing their horror, picturing their sacrifices, tried rewriting the announcements more respectively in her head. Wayne had committed suicide, Tessa had tried attacking the cameras and died for her fortitude, Oskar had either fallen or jumped, Alessio had pickaxed Henry and brutally murdered Cameron...
No, was that right?
She remembered the killers better than the killed.
She gave up. Kizi opened her eyes. She would try again later.
Kizi followed Clarice and Jennifer at a distance. If there was hope somewhere, it was the radio tower. The place was built for communication. Communication, that was how they would survive. That was how they'd stop this madness. She saw them talking. A tentative conversation. One that couldn't survive an interruption. She walked over to a table in the middle of the room. The radio tower looked relatively untainted by the ravages of time. She did not let her own hopes be raised, but knew better than to speak out loud. Perhaps the hope others may be well-placed, and she had no desire to puncture it.
She placed her bag on the table, and shotgun on the other half, barrel pointing at the far wall.
And then Nancy walked in. That 'hold it' was like a shot firing through the air.
Kizi's first impulse was to reach for the gun. She stopped herself, thankfully. She knew she was the biggest threat. Curse of the rolls. Given something she didn't have the courage to use. She held her hands up, slowly and artfully, every minuscule movement deliberate and meticulously made to be as predictable as possible. Hard to do, when she was trembling with fear, but adrenaline made up for that.
And then Jennifer moved. Had more courage than Kizi. Kizi jumped to the side when Nancy was distracted, backing into the corner of the room, shotgun maladroitly held at the ready. The barrel shook, Kizi's own quivering getting worse. "Stop or I'll...I'll..." She tried doing a tough voice. That TV sort of tone. Authoritative, commanding. Came out a bare squeak. The nuzzle lowered, aiming at the floor. She couldn't pull the trigger. Even if she wasn't scared that the spray would hit her friends. She couldn't.
She looked at Clarice.
Held out the gun to her.
Already, Kiziah was beginning to sense a pattern. They travelled. They jumped at noises. They tried chatting, tried reminding one another of their fundamental humanity, tried bringing in some conversation that wasn't such pragmatic strategising. Tried doing something, squeezing some comfort and enjoyment out of this awful situation, tried getting some final positive memories out of this mess. And it just wouldn't click. It just wouldn't work. And again, as they had the previous night, they took shelter, drained and taxed, all silently dreading their alarm. And as if by clockwork, the announcement came on. More deaths. More destruction. More irreparable damage.
Was it cruel to tell them what was happening? Or it was a mild relief, some sign of their humanity seeping through, allowing people to identify the threats, to get some closure, to know not to embark on any fruitless rescue quests? Or was it manipulation? Kizi wanted to see the best in people, even now, but she wasn't stupid. The announcements were manipulation.
And Kimiko...seeing the good in her was also hard. "Must have been..." she said, in a lull after the announcement ended, but she let her words trickle down to nothing, covering her tracks by searching through her bag. The blood had been fresh. It must have been Caleb's. Maybe it was a sign of some decency, that she hadn't attacked her? Maybe Caleb had provoked it? No. She couldn't think that. It was unbecoming to think ill of the dead, to shift the blame onto them.
But it was still a routine. Trek, sleep, announcement. It was already in place, all but etched into stone. In a way, that was comforting, a strange source of solace. Patterns meant routines. Routines meant normalcy. Normalcy meant home. But she kept that thought to herself, for she realised it was nonsensical. Fallacious, perhaps. Maybe her mind playing tricks on her.
Maybe, and this was the scariest possibility, maybe she was already desensitised, even just hearing the turmoil from afar, filtered through the sardonic wordplay of a sociopathic monster, some devilish evil incarnate that tried lowering their guards by allowing them to be lured into such routines.
But maybe there was some truth in it. The other deaths barely fazed her. She grimaced and flinched with each one, feeling them more as a slap in the face than the tragedy they were. She found herself, rather disturbingly, thinking of them through a lens of clinical detachment, hardheaded pragmatism. Couldn't even muster up the energy to give them prayers or thoughts, there and then. She swallowed. Closed her eyes. Tried devoting a few seconds thought to picturing their horror, picturing their sacrifices, tried rewriting the announcements more respectively in her head. Wayne had committed suicide, Tessa had tried attacking the cameras and died for her fortitude, Oskar had either fallen or jumped, Alessio had pickaxed Henry and brutally murdered Cameron...
No, was that right?
She remembered the killers better than the killed.
She gave up. Kizi opened her eyes. She would try again later.
Kizi followed Clarice and Jennifer at a distance. If there was hope somewhere, it was the radio tower. The place was built for communication. Communication, that was how they would survive. That was how they'd stop this madness. She saw them talking. A tentative conversation. One that couldn't survive an interruption. She walked over to a table in the middle of the room. The radio tower looked relatively untainted by the ravages of time. She did not let her own hopes be raised, but knew better than to speak out loud. Perhaps the hope others may be well-placed, and she had no desire to puncture it.
She placed her bag on the table, and shotgun on the other half, barrel pointing at the far wall.
And then Nancy walked in. That 'hold it' was like a shot firing through the air.
Kizi's first impulse was to reach for the gun. She stopped herself, thankfully. She knew she was the biggest threat. Curse of the rolls. Given something she didn't have the courage to use. She held her hands up, slowly and artfully, every minuscule movement deliberate and meticulously made to be as predictable as possible. Hard to do, when she was trembling with fear, but adrenaline made up for that.
And then Jennifer moved. Had more courage than Kizi. Kizi jumped to the side when Nancy was distracted, backing into the corner of the room, shotgun maladroitly held at the ready. The barrel shook, Kizi's own quivering getting worse. "Stop or I'll...I'll..." She tried doing a tough voice. That TV sort of tone. Authoritative, commanding. Came out a bare squeak. The nuzzle lowered, aiming at the floor. She couldn't pull the trigger. Even if she wasn't scared that the spray would hit her friends. She couldn't.
She looked at Clarice.
Held out the gun to her.
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
There were questions. Was she okay? How could she be okay? How could anyone be okay here? Clarice didn't respond, and suddenly Nancy was there and Jennifer was moving and a gun was being held out to Clarice. It looked just a little too shiny, and there was too much noise.
Clarice took the gun without really thinking about it. She'd never fired a gun. Never touched a gun. And the power to end the conflict in front of her was just in her hands. She raised the gun. Her shoulder twisted, tore, and Clarice felt fresh wetness and new pain overlapping the old.
But it was life or death, and Clarice couldn't let it be death. Not yet.
"Jennifer, get out of the way!" she yelled. Her voice cracked and it sounded exhausted, stretched beyond its limits just in that shout.
Fuck Nancy. Fuck people like her and Isabel and Kimiko and Conrad for making this game continue.
Clarice aimed.
But she didn't fire.
Clarice took the gun without really thinking about it. She'd never fired a gun. Never touched a gun. And the power to end the conflict in front of her was just in her hands. She raised the gun. Her shoulder twisted, tore, and Clarice felt fresh wetness and new pain overlapping the old.
But it was life or death, and Clarice couldn't let it be death. Not yet.
"Jennifer, get out of the way!" she yelled. Her voice cracked and it sounded exhausted, stretched beyond its limits just in that shout.
Fuck Nancy. Fuck people like her and Isabel and Kimiko and Conrad for making this game continue.
Clarice aimed.
But she didn't fire.
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 450
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
Nancy was slow. It was the pain in her shoulder, the ache in her back, the blisters in her feet. Reasons, excuses, whatever. She turned to face Jennifer but she was too slow, and Jennifer's heel connected cleanly with her shin.
She yelled, then, clutching at her shin where the impact was. The gun dropped, but that issue took a backseat to a more salient one. Jennifer was the immediate threat... and the one she had to deal with right now. She was the one she could deal with right now. There was a dull pounding in her shin. Maybe she bruised it, she didn't know. At this point, she wasn't exactly in the mood to care.
Nancy didn't register the presence of the others anymore. They weren't important.
"Y-You..." she spat.
She gritted her teeth, before lunging at Jennifer with a howl, claws bared, ready to tear at Jennifer's throat with her own two hands, if need be.
She yelled, then, clutching at her shin where the impact was. The gun dropped, but that issue took a backseat to a more salient one. Jennifer was the immediate threat... and the one she had to deal with right now. She was the one she could deal with right now. There was a dull pounding in her shin. Maybe she bruised it, she didn't know. At this point, she wasn't exactly in the mood to care.
Nancy didn't register the presence of the others anymore. They weren't important.
"Y-You..." she spat.
She gritted her teeth, before lunging at Jennifer with a howl, claws bared, ready to tear at Jennifer's throat with her own two hands, if need be.
Everything was a blur.
Jennifer's foot connected. Nancy dropped the gun, clutching the spot she'd hit. Somewhere in the background Jennifer heard shouting, but it was distant, muddled. Nancy looked up, and growled under her breath.
She froze, wondering what to do next. But Nancy decided for her.
In one swift moment, she lunged forward, her arms outstretched. Jennifer's heart skipped a beat. Nancy wasn't going to stop there. Intuitively, Jennifer raised her arms, trying to swat her hands out of the way. But one foot lost balance as she stepped back, causing Jennifer's leg to sway.
"Someone-"
Bart, Kiziah, and Clarice. She was sure they were still here. Nancy was distracted, meaning that they could do anything. They could run. They could hide. They could choose to attack Nancy while all of energy was focused on her. Something. Anything.
"-Do something!" she yelled.
Jennifer wasn't sure what. She didn't want the others to die.
She didn't want to die.
Jennifer's foot connected. Nancy dropped the gun, clutching the spot she'd hit. Somewhere in the background Jennifer heard shouting, but it was distant, muddled. Nancy looked up, and growled under her breath.
She froze, wondering what to do next. But Nancy decided for her.
In one swift moment, she lunged forward, her arms outstretched. Jennifer's heart skipped a beat. Nancy wasn't going to stop there. Intuitively, Jennifer raised her arms, trying to swat her hands out of the way. But one foot lost balance as she stepped back, causing Jennifer's leg to sway.
"Someone-"
Bart, Kiziah, and Clarice. She was sure they were still here. Nancy was distracted, meaning that they could do anything. They could run. They could hide. They could choose to attack Nancy while all of energy was focused on her. Something. Anything.
"-Do something!" she yelled.
Jennifer wasn't sure what. She didn't want the others to die.
She didn't want to die.
((Bart Cappotelli continued from Why We Fight))
Bart was afraid.
Everything had seemed fine when they found Clarice at the radio tower. He didn't really have a whole lot to say, but he was more than willing to stand back while the others talked things out. If they were lucky, maybe Clarice might agree to join up with them. With the four of them pooling their skills and resources together, they might have a better chance at surviving.
Then Nancy showed up, and that's when things went downhill.
Bart's first reaction was to hide. He was pretty sure that none of his friends saw him slink behind a busted piece of equipment, but it wouldn't be too hard to notice if they had turned around. He felt like a coward, but he was too paralyzed by fear to do anything else. He just wanted Nancy to go away and leave them alone.
Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that Nancy was in no mood to come and go as peacefully as Kimiko had the previous day. There was a standoff, and even without anyone throwing so much as a punch, the tension in the air was oppressive. He felt as though there was a concrete block pressed against his chest when he tried to breathe and calm himself.
Once Nancy lunged at Jennifer though, any semblance of peace broke down instantly. When Jennifer called out to the others, he stood up and stepped out of cover, wanting to do something to help her. Nancy wasn't paying attention to him, so he might be able to charge her. He was a lot bigger than she was, so he should be able to stop her. If he did that, than the others would be able to rally together and chase her off. Yeah, all they needed was an opening.
He had a plan in his head, but his body didn't agree. His feet didn't move an inch, feeling as though they were weighed down with irons. He wanted to do something, anything to help, but why couldn't he convince himself to do it?
With what little courage he could muster, he shouted at the scuffle. "Hey!" He didn't raise his voice often, so he hoped that it would have enough force behind it to draw attention. He was leaning forward as he yelled, the only movement that his stunned self would allow. "Stop!" He cried again. He wanted to help, he really did, but this was all he could muster.
Hopefully it accomplished something.
Bart was afraid.
Everything had seemed fine when they found Clarice at the radio tower. He didn't really have a whole lot to say, but he was more than willing to stand back while the others talked things out. If they were lucky, maybe Clarice might agree to join up with them. With the four of them pooling their skills and resources together, they might have a better chance at surviving.
Then Nancy showed up, and that's when things went downhill.
Bart's first reaction was to hide. He was pretty sure that none of his friends saw him slink behind a busted piece of equipment, but it wouldn't be too hard to notice if they had turned around. He felt like a coward, but he was too paralyzed by fear to do anything else. He just wanted Nancy to go away and leave them alone.
Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that Nancy was in no mood to come and go as peacefully as Kimiko had the previous day. There was a standoff, and even without anyone throwing so much as a punch, the tension in the air was oppressive. He felt as though there was a concrete block pressed against his chest when he tried to breathe and calm himself.
Once Nancy lunged at Jennifer though, any semblance of peace broke down instantly. When Jennifer called out to the others, he stood up and stepped out of cover, wanting to do something to help her. Nancy wasn't paying attention to him, so he might be able to charge her. He was a lot bigger than she was, so he should be able to stop her. If he did that, than the others would be able to rally together and chase her off. Yeah, all they needed was an opening.
He had a plan in his head, but his body didn't agree. His feet didn't move an inch, feeling as though they were weighed down with irons. He wanted to do something, anything to help, but why couldn't he convince himself to do it?
With what little courage he could muster, he shouted at the scuffle. "Hey!" He didn't raise his voice often, so he hoped that it would have enough force behind it to draw attention. He was leaning forward as he yelled, the only movement that his stunned self would allow. "Stop!" He cried again. He wanted to help, he really did, but this was all he could muster.
Hopefully it accomplished something.
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 450
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
((GMing approved.))
Nancy wouldn't let this be like Sandy. This time, she'd be the one with the upper hand. And she'd keep the upper hand.
This is what she told herself.
This is what she told herself, as she finally collided with Jennifer, as the momentum carried them to the floor, as Nancy found herself on top of Jennifer, as she slammed her fists down on Jennifer's face.
She wasn't focused on anything else right now. Maybe she should have, since there were, after all, three other people in the room. But she looked straight down at Jennifer... Jennifer, who was looking back up at her with an expression of pure hate...
Nancy threw one more fist down before Jennifer retaliated, her hand jabbing into Nancy's throat. And suddenly Nancy felt herself flying backward, as Jennifer pushed her off of herself. And Nancy, who clutched at her neck, fell backwards onto her rear. And Nancy, whose hands tried to stop her from landing on her back, felt something cold and metallic in her right hand.
And Nancy, who lifted up the gun, fired.
Nancy wouldn't let this be like Sandy. This time, she'd be the one with the upper hand. And she'd keep the upper hand.
This is what she told herself.
This is what she told herself, as she finally collided with Jennifer, as the momentum carried them to the floor, as Nancy found herself on top of Jennifer, as she slammed her fists down on Jennifer's face.
She wasn't focused on anything else right now. Maybe she should have, since there were, after all, three other people in the room. But she looked straight down at Jennifer... Jennifer, who was looking back up at her with an expression of pure hate...
Nancy threw one more fist down before Jennifer retaliated, her hand jabbing into Nancy's throat. And suddenly Nancy felt herself flying backward, as Jennifer pushed her off of herself. And Nancy, who clutched at her neck, fell backwards onto her rear. And Nancy, whose hands tried to stop her from landing on her back, felt something cold and metallic in her right hand.
And Nancy, who lifted up the gun, fired.
((GMing also approved))
They fell.
Jennifer felt a pair of fists slamming into her face. Each hit, each burst of pain, came in a rhythm. Nancy seemed focused, determined. Ready to get the job done. For a moment, Jennifer felt a feeling of dread.
This is it, she thought.
No. It wasn't.
Jennifer's face twisted underneath all the pain. Her eyebrows furrowed. Her lips tightened around her bare teeth. She wasn't going to let it end here. Not like this.
Her right hand reached up, and took a swing towards Nancy's neck. Another hand pushed up, and within the next second, Jennifer felt the weight on her body vanish. Nancy fell onto her rear.
She sat up in one swift motion. A metallic taste, almost like copper, was inside her mouth. With it, a red streak had dripped from the corner of her lips. Her breathing became ragged, and she tasted the blood in her mouth each time her breath touched it. But, even with all the pain, she saw Nancy lift her gun again, and-
Jennifer screamed.
A hand touched her right shoulder, only to feel a warm wetness and pain. Blood. She'd... she'd been shot. Her heart was going faster and faster. Her vision blurred and got dark around the edges. She wasn't sure if that was fear or blood loss. Her skin shook under her hand. For a second, Jennifer's face looked shocked, almost pained. But then, her eyes glared. Her lips curled. Her hand tightened around the bloody fabric.
She didn't want Nancy to know how scared she was.
Jennifer made another decision. If Nancy was distracted, it would mean that Bart, Kiziah, and Clarice were safe. They could run or hide. If Nancy was focused only on her, they wouldn't be in any danger. If Jennifer was still alive, still kicking.
In a split second, she summoned up as much adrenaline as possible, and lunged forward. Once again, they were on the ground. But this time, Jennifer was on top of it. Her fists swung into Nancy's chest and shoulders, once, twice, three times, four. The pain in her shoulder faded in the adrenaline, the panic, and the anger.
They fell.
Jennifer felt a pair of fists slamming into her face. Each hit, each burst of pain, came in a rhythm. Nancy seemed focused, determined. Ready to get the job done. For a moment, Jennifer felt a feeling of dread.
This is it, she thought.
No. It wasn't.
Jennifer's face twisted underneath all the pain. Her eyebrows furrowed. Her lips tightened around her bare teeth. She wasn't going to let it end here. Not like this.
Her right hand reached up, and took a swing towards Nancy's neck. Another hand pushed up, and within the next second, Jennifer felt the weight on her body vanish. Nancy fell onto her rear.
She sat up in one swift motion. A metallic taste, almost like copper, was inside her mouth. With it, a red streak had dripped from the corner of her lips. Her breathing became ragged, and she tasted the blood in her mouth each time her breath touched it. But, even with all the pain, she saw Nancy lift her gun again, and-
Jennifer screamed.
A hand touched her right shoulder, only to feel a warm wetness and pain. Blood. She'd... she'd been shot. Her heart was going faster and faster. Her vision blurred and got dark around the edges. She wasn't sure if that was fear or blood loss. Her skin shook under her hand. For a second, Jennifer's face looked shocked, almost pained. But then, her eyes glared. Her lips curled. Her hand tightened around the bloody fabric.
She didn't want Nancy to know how scared she was.
Jennifer made another decision. If Nancy was distracted, it would mean that Bart, Kiziah, and Clarice were safe. They could run or hide. If Nancy was focused only on her, they wouldn't be in any danger. If Jennifer was still alive, still kicking.
In a split second, she summoned up as much adrenaline as possible, and lunged forward. Once again, they were on the ground. But this time, Jennifer was on top of it. Her fists swung into Nancy's chest and shoulders, once, twice, three times, four. The pain in her shoulder faded in the adrenaline, the panic, and the anger.
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ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
(Skipping and some GMing of Kizi approved.)
Jennifer would not get out of the fucking way. She seemed to be doing her utmost best to be in the way. She was bleeding, and dying, and it was fucking happening all over again. The most practical thing, at this stage, would be to shoot. To shoot through Jennifer and get Nancy in her twisted, murderous face.
But Clarice wasn't going to do that. Kizi wasn't going to do that. She didn't know Bart that well, but given Jennifer, given Kizi, she suspected he wouldn't, either.
Clarice lowered the gun, shoving it back into Kizi's hands. Even with all that was happening, there was a little wandering thought about whether she did that so she wouldn't shoot, or so that Kizi might.
"Run. RUN!"
Jennifer had Nancy pinned. That was the only option. And this was the only chance.
Clarice grabbed Kizi's arm with her good one, and yanked her past Nancy. Past Jennifer. Clarice didn't—couldn't—look back. She'd seen this before, she knew where it was going.
"Run!" she yelled at Bart before continuing to try and flee. She kept a hand clamped on Kizi's arm.
Kizi was coming with her, whether she wanted to or not, because Clarice wasn't going to see Kizi's kindness murder her. Not like Harold.
((Clarice Halwood continued in Death Is The Only Freedom...))
Jennifer would not get out of the fucking way. She seemed to be doing her utmost best to be in the way. She was bleeding, and dying, and it was fucking happening all over again. The most practical thing, at this stage, would be to shoot. To shoot through Jennifer and get Nancy in her twisted, murderous face.
But Clarice wasn't going to do that. Kizi wasn't going to do that. She didn't know Bart that well, but given Jennifer, given Kizi, she suspected he wouldn't, either.
Clarice lowered the gun, shoving it back into Kizi's hands. Even with all that was happening, there was a little wandering thought about whether she did that so she wouldn't shoot, or so that Kizi might.
"Run. RUN!"
Jennifer had Nancy pinned. That was the only option. And this was the only chance.
Clarice grabbed Kizi's arm with her good one, and yanked her past Nancy. Past Jennifer. Clarice didn't—couldn't—look back. She'd seen this before, she knew where it was going.
"Run!" she yelled at Bart before continuing to try and flee. She kept a hand clamped on Kizi's arm.
Kizi was coming with her, whether she wanted to or not, because Clarice wasn't going to see Kizi's kindness murder her. Not like Harold.
((Clarice Halwood continued in Death Is The Only Freedom...))
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CondorTalon
- Posts: 450
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 6:17 am
((Once again, GMing approved.))
Nancy didn't expect Jennifer to lunge at her. If she did, she would have fired another shot. But it was too late for that particular what-if.
Nancy's breath was knocked out of her as they collided. Her head banged against the floor, which caused her vision to spin. But that paled in comparison to the pain as Jennifer's fist collided with her frame.
"St- St-" Nancy said, but the rest of the word didn't make it out as another blow came down.
Fine!
Nancy swung the pistol, clocking Jennifer on the side of the head with the grip of the gun. This stopped Jennifer, but not for long. Another fist came down, catching Nancy in the nose.
The pain flared up again in her face. With a short yell, Nancy aimed the gun upward and fired another shot.
Nancy didn't expect Jennifer to lunge at her. If she did, she would have fired another shot. But it was too late for that particular what-if.
Nancy's breath was knocked out of her as they collided. Her head banged against the floor, which caused her vision to spin. But that paled in comparison to the pain as Jennifer's fist collided with her frame.
"St- St-" Nancy said, but the rest of the word didn't make it out as another blow came down.
Fine!
Nancy swung the pistol, clocking Jennifer on the side of the head with the grip of the gun. This stopped Jennifer, but not for long. Another fist came down, catching Nancy in the nose.
The pain flared up again in her face. With a short yell, Nancy aimed the gun upward and fired another shot.
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
It all moved too fast.
She screamed when the shot fired through the room, bringing her hands to her mouth. She cried, too. She didn't know when that started, but she was crying. Tears were running down her face. Little shimmering rivulets, dripping onto her shoulders. Her whole body was trembling. She didn't know when that had started either.
She couldn't even remember when this fight had started. It seemed all-encompassing now.
Her hands were still, hovering, quivering, below her face, catching the droplets that fell off her face, when Clarice pressed the gun into her hands. Holding it against her chest, as if she was carrying a rolled up carpet, she felt Clarice begin to pull her away. Kizi disagreed. But this wasn't the time for that. She tried one token attempt at a protest, but it came out a mere sob, a choked yell of anguish. So instead, she held out one hand, and made sure to grab her bag as Clarice pulled her away.
Her eyes remained on Jennifer.
Closed the eyes when the shot rang out.
When she opened them, Jennifer would be calling them back. It'd be okay. Nancy would have been defeated.
((Kiziah Saraki continued Death Is The Only Freedom.))
She screamed when the shot fired through the room, bringing her hands to her mouth. She cried, too. She didn't know when that started, but she was crying. Tears were running down her face. Little shimmering rivulets, dripping onto her shoulders. Her whole body was trembling. She didn't know when that had started either.
She couldn't even remember when this fight had started. It seemed all-encompassing now.
Her hands were still, hovering, quivering, below her face, catching the droplets that fell off her face, when Clarice pressed the gun into her hands. Holding it against her chest, as if she was carrying a rolled up carpet, she felt Clarice begin to pull her away. Kizi disagreed. But this wasn't the time for that. She tried one token attempt at a protest, but it came out a mere sob, a choked yell of anguish. So instead, she held out one hand, and made sure to grab her bag as Clarice pulled her away.
Her eyes remained on Jennifer.
Closed the eyes when the shot rang out.
When she opened them, Jennifer would be calling them back. It'd be okay. Nancy would have been defeated.
((Kiziah Saraki continued Death Is The Only Freedom.))
The gun.
Jennifer realized within a heartbeat. When she'd tackled Nancy, she hadn't let go. She still had it. Jennifer's failure to realize this was compounded by another pain to her head, another cry from her lips accompanying it.
Somewhere, she heard more shouting. The sound of someone being dragged away, the sound of someone running away. But she didn't pay attention. Couldn't pay attention. Her vision continued to blur and darken around the edges, adrenaline being the main thing keeping her awake, energized.
Another fist pounded against Nancy's face. She didn't want to stop here, she didn't want to die, she didn't want Nancy to murder the others, she didn't want-
She heard Nancy scream, and a second later, another crack.
Jennifer's eyes widened for a second. She dimly felt something wet and warm, dripping from just below her collar. Another second, and a small, choked rasping noise came from her mouth. Two more, and she slumped down onto Nancy, her body limp, blood dripping out from her neck.
Just a few seconds ago, Jennifer's face had been twisted with determination, anger, hatred. But now, it'd been replaced with a shocked look. Her eyes remained open.
But they were unthinking.
Unknowing.
Female Student #055 Jennifer Wallace- ELIMINATED
Jennifer realized within a heartbeat. When she'd tackled Nancy, she hadn't let go. She still had it. Jennifer's failure to realize this was compounded by another pain to her head, another cry from her lips accompanying it.
Somewhere, she heard more shouting. The sound of someone being dragged away, the sound of someone running away. But she didn't pay attention. Couldn't pay attention. Her vision continued to blur and darken around the edges, adrenaline being the main thing keeping her awake, energized.
Another fist pounded against Nancy's face. She didn't want to stop here, she didn't want to die, she didn't want Nancy to murder the others, she didn't want-
She heard Nancy scream, and a second later, another crack.
Jennifer's eyes widened for a second. She dimly felt something wet and warm, dripping from just below her collar. Another second, and a small, choked rasping noise came from her mouth. Two more, and she slumped down onto Nancy, her body limp, blood dripping out from her neck.
Just a few seconds ago, Jennifer's face had been twisted with determination, anger, hatred. But now, it'd been replaced with a shocked look. Her eyes remained open.
But they were unthinking.
Unknowing.
Female Student #055 Jennifer Wallace- ELIMINATED