((Tabi Gweneth continued from Haven't You Got Eyes in Your Head?))
Tabi Gweneth had traveled a great distance with her companion Ivan following her. The day had warmed up her chill body rapidly as soon as the sun beamed down on her. As the two of them walked, they would have to stop for the occasional sneezing fit from the roller-skater. Her mind started to think about how it may not have been the wisest thing to bathe in the middle of the night.
As they traveled, Tabi occasionally dug into her bag to take a sip of water and nibble on some crusty bread. It tasted like it was stale, but the rumbling in her stomach didn't care if it was moldy or if it was fresh five star bread from a hotel. Food was food, and it was enough to satisfy her for now.
The two of them still traveled in silence. There wasn't much to say at this point and Tabi wasn't really surprised. As much as she didn't want to think on it, she was with a murderer. He wasn't likely going to kill again, but the thought about it was unsettling. What could she say to him? Nothing...
She felt her eyes starting to droop as they walked along the brook as it began to expand into more of a river. When she thought about it, she realized that she had been up for more than a day. One very long, very terrible day. She needed sleep, she was pretty sure Ivan needed sleep too, but she said nothing, not yet. When they stopped, she would suggest it.
The two of them found themselves walking into yet another stretch of woods, thicker than before. It was a quiet place, she noticed, quite dark too. The numerous numbers of pine and fir trees were obscuring at least some sunlight. It would be a good place to sleep if she could do so.
She stopped and turned to Ivan. Her eyes shifting down to the grassy forest floor.
"Do you wanna stop here Ivan?"
Peacemaker
*Private Thread we promise this is the last one for a while*
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GregTheAnti-Viking†
- Posts: 267
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:10 am
Peacemaker
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler GregTheAnti-Viking. 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.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
((Ivan Kuznetsov continued from Haven't You Got Eyes in Your Head?))
The last time the two of them had been in a forested area, it had been because they were running for their lives. Running for one's life... it seemed like that was going to be an activity that Ivan and Tabi were going to take part in for quite a bit throughout the next few days. There was only so long one could run, though, before their heart just gave out. The necessity of running was there to stay, but the desire to have some sort of weaponry that Ivan could just stand his ground was growing. That was why they were headed this way to begin with, so Ivan could receive whatever 'prize' he had been awarded for doing something that he was going to regret for the rest of his days.
Every tree that the two of them walked by, Ivan could feel the shockwaves from each hit slam up through his hands and into his shoulders. Every step was him lifting the branch, or bringing it back down, or Keith screaming and crying out for help for the first few hits or so, or Tabi screaming for Ivan to stop, or the sounds of the branch connecting with Keith's face. Every time they stopped so Tabi could sneeze, Ivan wanted to playfully chide her to improve the mood, but would fall silent as Keith's faceless, bloody visage would watch him. He couldn't get away... he didn't deserve to get away from it.
There was no telling of Keith was waiting in Ivan's dreams to assault him, as the boy hadn't slept yet. Another item on the list of human necessities that Ivan had so far managed to ignore, but he couldn't ignore it for much longer. He hadn't slept, eaten, drank anything, or even used the bathroom ever since he woke up on the beach, and there was no telling when the time would come that all those needs decided to strike him at once. Tabi's nibbling of her food and occasional sips of water were a harsh reminder of Ivan's need to sustain himself, which he decided to get around to doing when Tabi stopped yet again. He was about ready to sling his bag off of his shoulder and rummage through it for his food when Tabi did not sneeze, but rather, spoke to him.
"Do you wanna stop here Ivan?"
Ivan thought about it for a moment, and decided it was the best. He thought he had given Tabi some sort of a verbal answer, but as it was only a minor affirming grunt that one would have to tune in to in order to actually hear it, his actions of setting his daypack on the ground would speak far louder. There were no convenient objects for him to perch on this time, so Ivan just set the umbrella on the ground next to his daypack and lowered himself onto the ground, sitting cross-legged.
"Sure... we can for a little while."
Unzipping the daypack and poking around with his heavily-favored left hand while he kept his right one tucked up against his stomach, Ivan pulled out the bread and the water, setting each item on his lap. He left the crackers where they were in order to save them for later, uncapped the water, and took a swig. When he could manage, Ivan looked to Tabi, wondering which of the many possible reasons caused her to ask for a break. Most likely, she was just as tired as he was, but he was so wired by anxiety and straight fear of sleep, lest he see Keith's face, that he could manage to stay awake for just a little bit longer. Maybe she wanted to talk... wouldn't that be a laugh. He felt like he had more than enough interaction on this island already to last him a lifetime.
Ivan choked down a bit of the bread, taking another sip of the water to wash down the horrendously dry stuff. There was another thought that struck him. In order for him to pick up his weapon, he'd have to head to these 'Greens', directly south of where they were if the map was any indicator to go by. But he was the only one with permission to head there. In short, where Ivan was going, Tabi could not come. One way or the other, he'd have to convince the girl to stay here for a little while.
Yeah, that'll go over real well.
"... What is it you wanted to do."
The last time the two of them had been in a forested area, it had been because they were running for their lives. Running for one's life... it seemed like that was going to be an activity that Ivan and Tabi were going to take part in for quite a bit throughout the next few days. There was only so long one could run, though, before their heart just gave out. The necessity of running was there to stay, but the desire to have some sort of weaponry that Ivan could just stand his ground was growing. That was why they were headed this way to begin with, so Ivan could receive whatever 'prize' he had been awarded for doing something that he was going to regret for the rest of his days.
Every tree that the two of them walked by, Ivan could feel the shockwaves from each hit slam up through his hands and into his shoulders. Every step was him lifting the branch, or bringing it back down, or Keith screaming and crying out for help for the first few hits or so, or Tabi screaming for Ivan to stop, or the sounds of the branch connecting with Keith's face. Every time they stopped so Tabi could sneeze, Ivan wanted to playfully chide her to improve the mood, but would fall silent as Keith's faceless, bloody visage would watch him. He couldn't get away... he didn't deserve to get away from it.
There was no telling of Keith was waiting in Ivan's dreams to assault him, as the boy hadn't slept yet. Another item on the list of human necessities that Ivan had so far managed to ignore, but he couldn't ignore it for much longer. He hadn't slept, eaten, drank anything, or even used the bathroom ever since he woke up on the beach, and there was no telling when the time would come that all those needs decided to strike him at once. Tabi's nibbling of her food and occasional sips of water were a harsh reminder of Ivan's need to sustain himself, which he decided to get around to doing when Tabi stopped yet again. He was about ready to sling his bag off of his shoulder and rummage through it for his food when Tabi did not sneeze, but rather, spoke to him.
"Do you wanna stop here Ivan?"
Ivan thought about it for a moment, and decided it was the best. He thought he had given Tabi some sort of a verbal answer, but as it was only a minor affirming grunt that one would have to tune in to in order to actually hear it, his actions of setting his daypack on the ground would speak far louder. There were no convenient objects for him to perch on this time, so Ivan just set the umbrella on the ground next to his daypack and lowered himself onto the ground, sitting cross-legged.
"Sure... we can for a little while."
Unzipping the daypack and poking around with his heavily-favored left hand while he kept his right one tucked up against his stomach, Ivan pulled out the bread and the water, setting each item on his lap. He left the crackers where they were in order to save them for later, uncapped the water, and took a swig. When he could manage, Ivan looked to Tabi, wondering which of the many possible reasons caused her to ask for a break. Most likely, she was just as tired as he was, but he was so wired by anxiety and straight fear of sleep, lest he see Keith's face, that he could manage to stay awake for just a little bit longer. Maybe she wanted to talk... wouldn't that be a laugh. He felt like he had more than enough interaction on this island already to last him a lifetime.
Ivan choked down a bit of the bread, taking another sip of the water to wash down the horrendously dry stuff. There was another thought that struck him. In order for him to pick up his weapon, he'd have to head to these 'Greens', directly south of where they were if the map was any indicator to go by. But he was the only one with permission to head there. In short, where Ivan was going, Tabi could not come. One way or the other, he'd have to convince the girl to stay here for a little while.
Yeah, that'll go over real well.
"... What is it you wanted to do."
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GregTheAnti-Viking†
- Posts: 267
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:10 am
Tabitha Gweneth let a slight smile creep up her face when Ivan had approved of sitting around. She had hoped that sleeping would be next on their agenda, it was what she wanted at least.
She walked over to a tree that was close to where Ivan was now sitting. Tabi saw how the young blonde looked; he did not look well. As he nibbled on his bread, she noticed the bags that were under his eyes. His eyes, for that matter had a look to them. She couldn't quite describe the look, the only word she could find was the look of someone haunted. She wasn't surprised really, the fact that he had...
Don't say it!
Done that...thing. How could you not be? It was probably something that you would never forget. Then again, she would never forget Keith either...
It was now something the two of them had in common now, and it was something that made Tabi want to give him a comforting hug.
Ivan was not a hugger though, so she just stood there. Staring at the blood-speckled shirt, worming her fingers in between each other.
The blonde broke the silence asking what it was she wanted to do. She was relieved that he did. She wasn't sure how much she'd be able to take all this silence.
"Oh um I-yaaaaaaaah" Tabi began, a yawn escaping her lips, causing her face to flush, "I'm...really tired. I just figured we could, ya know...rest?"
Tabi placed her back to a nearby tree and negotiated her way down the pole. The ground under her was soft, but it was firm. She fought another fit of sneezes, her face tweaked into a grimace.
The woods were getting dark again. She wasn't quite sure if it was because of the thick overhang, or if it really was because it was close to the evening. It was frightening to think about it, the two of them had been through so much already and it was still day two!
Tabi's arms wrapped themselves around their knees and pulled them closer to her. She leaned forwards and perched her head on the kneecaps. She tried to fight it off, but she could feel her eyelids beginning to droop down, blurring her vision.
"So...what do you think?"
She walked over to a tree that was close to where Ivan was now sitting. Tabi saw how the young blonde looked; he did not look well. As he nibbled on his bread, she noticed the bags that were under his eyes. His eyes, for that matter had a look to them. She couldn't quite describe the look, the only word she could find was the look of someone haunted. She wasn't surprised really, the fact that he had...
Don't say it!
Done that...thing. How could you not be? It was probably something that you would never forget. Then again, she would never forget Keith either...
It was now something the two of them had in common now, and it was something that made Tabi want to give him a comforting hug.
Ivan was not a hugger though, so she just stood there. Staring at the blood-speckled shirt, worming her fingers in between each other.
The blonde broke the silence asking what it was she wanted to do. She was relieved that he did. She wasn't sure how much she'd be able to take all this silence.
"Oh um I-yaaaaaaaah" Tabi began, a yawn escaping her lips, causing her face to flush, "I'm...really tired. I just figured we could, ya know...rest?"
Tabi placed her back to a nearby tree and negotiated her way down the pole. The ground under her was soft, but it was firm. She fought another fit of sneezes, her face tweaked into a grimace.
The woods were getting dark again. She wasn't quite sure if it was because of the thick overhang, or if it really was because it was close to the evening. It was frightening to think about it, the two of them had been through so much already and it was still day two!
Tabi's arms wrapped themselves around their knees and pulled them closer to her. She leaned forwards and perched her head on the kneecaps. She tried to fight it off, but she could feel her eyelids beginning to droop down, blurring her vision.
"So...what do you think?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler GregTheAnti-Viking. 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.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Sleep sounded good. It sounded pretty terrific, really, and that's why Ivan was going to let Tabi do it. He, on the other hand, found sleep to be impossible for quite a few reasons. His nightmares, as much of a contributing factor as they would be should he venture into the dream world, were now no longer the sole factor to his forced awakeness.
As horrible as the thought if it was, Ivan had been rewarded. His mouth grew bitter with the taste of bile when he thought of that, but it was the truth. He had been rewarded for his senseless act of brutality, and despite the fact there was no redemption for what he had done, he could still use the reward for something good. Maybe he wasn't ready to die, as he was sure to remind him constantly, but Tabi didn't deserve to die. He peered to the umbrella at his feet; there was no way in hell he could keep protecting them both with just that.
"Yeah. Sleep sounds fine," he said, packing up the bread and the water and placing them both back in his daypack. After he zipped it up, he crossed his arms over his chest, nursing his right arm with his other hand. The pain was still there, lingering, but the bandage Tabi had put on it helped to keep it from getting infected, so it could have been far worse. Ivan tried to rationalize this as part of the girl's utility, or proof that keeping her around was a good thing. One look at her found other reasons, though, and many of them were guilt.
Even worse, he would have to leave her behind for a bit.
With his head locked straight ahead, Ivan moved his eyes over to Tabi. She was leaned up against that tree, her arms hugging her knees to her chest. Overall, the scene looked very familiar... it reminded him of a terrified boy who had cried near the river on this very island. A welling feeling in his chest swelled up and pushed its way through, causing a bit of physical pain to the boy... an actual, physical representation of both worry and guilt. Soon Tabi would be asleep, and he would have to go, but he'd be back for her. He'd be back with the prize of his crime and shame, ready to make something good of it.
When Tabi finally drifted off to sleep, Ivan picked up his umbrella and left. He left his daypack with her as a silent promise.
He'd be back.
((Ivan Kuznetsov, continued in Pride and Glory))
As horrible as the thought if it was, Ivan had been rewarded. His mouth grew bitter with the taste of bile when he thought of that, but it was the truth. He had been rewarded for his senseless act of brutality, and despite the fact there was no redemption for what he had done, he could still use the reward for something good. Maybe he wasn't ready to die, as he was sure to remind him constantly, but Tabi didn't deserve to die. He peered to the umbrella at his feet; there was no way in hell he could keep protecting them both with just that.
"Yeah. Sleep sounds fine," he said, packing up the bread and the water and placing them both back in his daypack. After he zipped it up, he crossed his arms over his chest, nursing his right arm with his other hand. The pain was still there, lingering, but the bandage Tabi had put on it helped to keep it from getting infected, so it could have been far worse. Ivan tried to rationalize this as part of the girl's utility, or proof that keeping her around was a good thing. One look at her found other reasons, though, and many of them were guilt.
Even worse, he would have to leave her behind for a bit.
With his head locked straight ahead, Ivan moved his eyes over to Tabi. She was leaned up against that tree, her arms hugging her knees to her chest. Overall, the scene looked very familiar... it reminded him of a terrified boy who had cried near the river on this very island. A welling feeling in his chest swelled up and pushed its way through, causing a bit of physical pain to the boy... an actual, physical representation of both worry and guilt. Soon Tabi would be asleep, and he would have to go, but he'd be back for her. He'd be back with the prize of his crime and shame, ready to make something good of it.
When Tabi finally drifted off to sleep, Ivan picked up his umbrella and left. He left his daypack with her as a silent promise.
He'd be back.
((Ivan Kuznetsov, continued in Pride and Glory))
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 255
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
((Nick Reid continued from Thanatos))
There is a kind of freedom, they say, in being completely screwed, because you know things can't get any worse.
Nick Reid was feeling very free at the moment.
It was just a mental thing, he supposed. You just needed the right mindset. Life wasn't fair, but the trick to it was rolling with the punches. Take everything in stride, make the best of what you've got, improvise. Because sooner or later it'll be someone else's turn to get screwed over. That was the time to strike.
There was a strategy to the game. Just like any other competition. Some trick or play or gambit that would put you ahead of everyone else. The way Nick saw it, there were two kinds of people on the island: killers, and killers-in-waiting. The problem was deciding what to do about them both. On the one hand, you could chase down those with blood on their hands already. Go after the strongest threats first and then clean up the rest, because there was no telling when someone with the drive would suddenly obtain the means. But on the other hand, you could go after the weak and foolish, everyone who hadn't yet decided to go all-in. There was a certain attractiveness to that strategy: it hit close to home. Every step he took was a testament to the folly of Alex and Maxwell. They'd let him live, allowed him to reach his epiphany. The skinny boy they'd left in the dust was now dangerous beyond their wildest dreams. He, in turn, could not repeat their mistakes, because any student left alive could reach their own epiphany. Become just as deadly as he was.
Nick felt once more the exquisite balance of his newfound weapon, the one that would propel him to the top. He was one of the, if not the single most dangerous kid on the island. Top five with ease. What little he'd heard of the announcements pegged him at the top of the heap - only Reiko was confirmed as a double-murderer, and someone had no doubt decided to break her over their knee in the meantime. At any rate, the weapon in his hand was nearly as long as she was tall. That left as threats anyone with a gun. No, anyone with a gun and the willingness to pull the trigger. Twenty-one feet would figure big in his future.
His grip tightened. His steps grew quiet. There was something ahead, or someone, more likely. Time to steel himself, see if he wasn't just an armchair philosopher. Quiet as a mouse (a very noisy mouse, admittedly, maybe with a bad sinus infection), he stole forward to view the scene in detail. Slowly, it all resolved into focus. A girl was sleeping. Before he could block it out, a vision needled his mind's eye. Jennifer stood before him, so innocent, concerned about his well-being, wrapping a fresh bandage around his arm. He couldn't do it, she couldn't be a player -
Reiko's face flashed through his mind. And the stern reminder: two types of people. Killers, and killers-in-waiting. He couldn't let her become a killer. Nip it in the bud.
But wait - there were two bags there. So she was traveling with someone. You couldn't travel in groups if you knew what was good for you, so she would be someone waiting to die. There was a low likelihood of her ever playing.
Inspiration.
He didn't have to kill her at all. No, not murder. Theft. Something new to try. After all, if he was going to make it to the end, he'd need supplies. Food, water, whatever. At any rate, he couldn't muscle his way through the competition in two weeks' time with just the paltry rations he'd been assigned. More first-aid supplies would help too. And as for the hapless student in front of him? Another stroke of genius. You could eat, or you could die. And without supplies, she and her partner would have to get them somewhere. But there was no other way to get them besides other people. Sooner rather than later, conflict - and then there would be blood. Another death, or two (if her companion was the hero type) to nail down who was really playing. Then it would be a simple matter of saving everyone else from the killer.
Brilliant.
And it didn't stop there - he couldn't count on not rousing her, but he had a plan for that too. A false front. He bent to the ground, smearing leaves and mud over his fresh bandage. Thrust the estoc through his shirt and his jacket in a few places. Slapped himself, hard, to get some redness and watering eyes. Secreting away his bag and especially the sword, his lifeline, he proceeded towards her sleeping form.
"Hey! Hey... I'm not - uh, can you help me out a bit?"
Gametime.
There is a kind of freedom, they say, in being completely screwed, because you know things can't get any worse.
Nick Reid was feeling very free at the moment.
It was just a mental thing, he supposed. You just needed the right mindset. Life wasn't fair, but the trick to it was rolling with the punches. Take everything in stride, make the best of what you've got, improvise. Because sooner or later it'll be someone else's turn to get screwed over. That was the time to strike.
There was a strategy to the game. Just like any other competition. Some trick or play or gambit that would put you ahead of everyone else. The way Nick saw it, there were two kinds of people on the island: killers, and killers-in-waiting. The problem was deciding what to do about them both. On the one hand, you could chase down those with blood on their hands already. Go after the strongest threats first and then clean up the rest, because there was no telling when someone with the drive would suddenly obtain the means. But on the other hand, you could go after the weak and foolish, everyone who hadn't yet decided to go all-in. There was a certain attractiveness to that strategy: it hit close to home. Every step he took was a testament to the folly of Alex and Maxwell. They'd let him live, allowed him to reach his epiphany. The skinny boy they'd left in the dust was now dangerous beyond their wildest dreams. He, in turn, could not repeat their mistakes, because any student left alive could reach their own epiphany. Become just as deadly as he was.
Nick felt once more the exquisite balance of his newfound weapon, the one that would propel him to the top. He was one of the, if not the single most dangerous kid on the island. Top five with ease. What little he'd heard of the announcements pegged him at the top of the heap - only Reiko was confirmed as a double-murderer, and someone had no doubt decided to break her over their knee in the meantime. At any rate, the weapon in his hand was nearly as long as she was tall. That left as threats anyone with a gun. No, anyone with a gun and the willingness to pull the trigger. Twenty-one feet would figure big in his future.
His grip tightened. His steps grew quiet. There was something ahead, or someone, more likely. Time to steel himself, see if he wasn't just an armchair philosopher. Quiet as a mouse (a very noisy mouse, admittedly, maybe with a bad sinus infection), he stole forward to view the scene in detail. Slowly, it all resolved into focus. A girl was sleeping. Before he could block it out, a vision needled his mind's eye. Jennifer stood before him, so innocent, concerned about his well-being, wrapping a fresh bandage around his arm. He couldn't do it, she couldn't be a player -
Reiko's face flashed through his mind. And the stern reminder: two types of people. Killers, and killers-in-waiting. He couldn't let her become a killer. Nip it in the bud.
But wait - there were two bags there. So she was traveling with someone. You couldn't travel in groups if you knew what was good for you, so she would be someone waiting to die. There was a low likelihood of her ever playing.
Inspiration.
He didn't have to kill her at all. No, not murder. Theft. Something new to try. After all, if he was going to make it to the end, he'd need supplies. Food, water, whatever. At any rate, he couldn't muscle his way through the competition in two weeks' time with just the paltry rations he'd been assigned. More first-aid supplies would help too. And as for the hapless student in front of him? Another stroke of genius. You could eat, or you could die. And without supplies, she and her partner would have to get them somewhere. But there was no other way to get them besides other people. Sooner rather than later, conflict - and then there would be blood. Another death, or two (if her companion was the hero type) to nail down who was really playing. Then it would be a simple matter of saving everyone else from the killer.
Brilliant.
And it didn't stop there - he couldn't count on not rousing her, but he had a plan for that too. A false front. He bent to the ground, smearing leaves and mud over his fresh bandage. Thrust the estoc through his shirt and his jacket in a few places. Slapped himself, hard, to get some redness and watering eyes. Secreting away his bag and especially the sword, his lifeline, he proceeded towards her sleeping form.
"Hey! Hey... I'm not - uh, can you help me out a bit?"
Gametime.
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GregTheAnti-Viking†
- Posts: 267
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:10 am
Tabitha's mouth flinched upwards as Ivan spoke. Her eyes drooped fully down and she began to use her knees as a pillow. It was uncomfortable, but it would have to do.
"Okay Ivan...Good night..."
Her eyes began to droop and her breathing became was low and calm. Thoughts of what had happened before started to float into the recesses of her mind. The desire for rest was too great. In only a matter of minutes; Tabi she found herself drifting off to sleep.
Tabi was never a person who could remember her dreams. If she did dream, she never remembered them when she woke up. The night was very much the same. It was a fitful sleep, but she was able to rest, never the less.
It was a voice that woke her up. Was it Ivan? It didn't sound like his voice. She opened her eyes and saw a blurry form standing in front of her. Tabi assumed that it was Ivan. Maybe he was worried about her. Did she look that bad in front of him?
When she rubbed her eyes however, she saw that the person was not Ivan. It was a tall boy that Tabi didn't recognize at first. The man had messy black hair, he wore an orange shirt and a very prominent nose with a wicked hook to it. The name escaped her for a moment and then she remembered him. It was Nick Reid, he was someone in her math class. He was a smart guy too, always top of the class and if she had a question, he could at least try to explain it in a way better than the teacher could.
She then saw the orange shirt again...
There was blood on it...
Her first instinct was that he was really hurt. The guy wouldn't have killed anybody. He was such a sweet guy, it would be impossible for that to happen.
She stood up and began to walk towards him, but a thought began to creep into her mind. A memory. Earlier in the morning when she was sitting back in that river. When that man was gleefully talking about those that had died. And those that had killed on the island.
Wasn't his name mentioned? Didn't he use a Molotov Cocktail?
She took two steps backwards and began to franticly scan the forest looking for Ivan. He was nowhere to be found. Was he taking watch somewhere? Was he alright?
Did...did Nick kill him?
Her heart began to race. And her breath began to accelerate.
"Wh-what do you want from me?"
"Okay Ivan...Good night..."
Her eyes began to droop and her breathing became was low and calm. Thoughts of what had happened before started to float into the recesses of her mind. The desire for rest was too great. In only a matter of minutes; Tabi she found herself drifting off to sleep.
Tabi was never a person who could remember her dreams. If she did dream, she never remembered them when she woke up. The night was very much the same. It was a fitful sleep, but she was able to rest, never the less.
It was a voice that woke her up. Was it Ivan? It didn't sound like his voice. She opened her eyes and saw a blurry form standing in front of her. Tabi assumed that it was Ivan. Maybe he was worried about her. Did she look that bad in front of him?
When she rubbed her eyes however, she saw that the person was not Ivan. It was a tall boy that Tabi didn't recognize at first. The man had messy black hair, he wore an orange shirt and a very prominent nose with a wicked hook to it. The name escaped her for a moment and then she remembered him. It was Nick Reid, he was someone in her math class. He was a smart guy too, always top of the class and if she had a question, he could at least try to explain it in a way better than the teacher could.
She then saw the orange shirt again...
There was blood on it...
Her first instinct was that he was really hurt. The guy wouldn't have killed anybody. He was such a sweet guy, it would be impossible for that to happen.
She stood up and began to walk towards him, but a thought began to creep into her mind. A memory. Earlier in the morning when she was sitting back in that river. When that man was gleefully talking about those that had died. And those that had killed on the island.
Wasn't his name mentioned? Didn't he use a Molotov Cocktail?
She took two steps backwards and began to franticly scan the forest looking for Ivan. He was nowhere to be found. Was he taking watch somewhere? Was he alright?
Did...did Nick kill him?
Her heart began to race. And her breath began to accelerate.
"Wh-what do you want from me?"
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 255
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
For a moment, Nick stood motionless, revving up the gears in his head into overdrive. The precise methodology of his impulsive plan was suddenly clear, as if he was simply remembering some long-distant outline. He just needed her to turn around now...
"Peace. I just want some peace of mind."
It was an unfortunate turn of events, but not one he hadn't foreseen. Scaring her off outright, perhaps, would've been the easiest way to do this. But then again, she could've been (no, still could be) armed, and could he really take the chance by showing overt aggression? All of his previous human interaction, after all, had ended with someone getting beaten or killed. This time would be different; nobody needed to die. Nobody needed to get hurt. Not the girl before him, and certainly not himself.
He eased himself down onto a handy stump, sighing with effort and discomfort. That part, at least, was all real - the last day and a half had left him bruised and sore all over. Trying to pull his gaunt visage into something vaguely nonthreatening, Nick began his plea in earnest.
"I know I look like something the cat dragged in. And I - you know, that's what it feels like. I've been traveling, looking for some human decency. And know what? I've been thwarted at every turn. There's no sympathy here. Nobody wants to deal with someone wrongly labeled as cold-blooded or murderous. Maxwell Lombardi. I should be dead now. He thought I deserved to die -" A hard lump restricted his throat. These were no crocodile tears. Embellished as it was, embroidered and smoothed over and touched up, the story he related was all too real. It was true that he should, by all accounts, be dead. Anger gripped his thoughts. Fury at his own weakness, fury at how on two separate occasions some undeserving cretin had had him over a barrel. Just barely he managed to twist the angry snarl on his face into a pained grimace. He couldn't lose his cool, it was hard enough improvising in the first place...
"So here I am." One finger caressed the shiny bruised skin around his eye. "Alone, weaponless, friendless, no food, no water, kicked around like a football. I just want to feel safe for a moment, think for a bit without looking over my shoulder all the time." Casting his glance at the girl's baggage, he noticed for the first time the marking on her spare bag - B082. His hair prickled. So she was traveling with a boy. And his previous experience with the male inhabitants of the island...
Fidgeting just a little, he cut to the chase. "Look. I don't want to be a burden to anyone. But this bandage is old," he showed his wounded arm, "and the cut isn't clean. I won't force my company, but seeing as I've been left with nothing," he gestured at his non-existent gear to emphasize its lack of being, "I can't help but ask, is there anything between your resources that I could use to prevent infection from finishing Maxwell's job?"
"Peace. I just want some peace of mind."
It was an unfortunate turn of events, but not one he hadn't foreseen. Scaring her off outright, perhaps, would've been the easiest way to do this. But then again, she could've been (no, still could be) armed, and could he really take the chance by showing overt aggression? All of his previous human interaction, after all, had ended with someone getting beaten or killed. This time would be different; nobody needed to die. Nobody needed to get hurt. Not the girl before him, and certainly not himself.
He eased himself down onto a handy stump, sighing with effort and discomfort. That part, at least, was all real - the last day and a half had left him bruised and sore all over. Trying to pull his gaunt visage into something vaguely nonthreatening, Nick began his plea in earnest.
"I know I look like something the cat dragged in. And I - you know, that's what it feels like. I've been traveling, looking for some human decency. And know what? I've been thwarted at every turn. There's no sympathy here. Nobody wants to deal with someone wrongly labeled as cold-blooded or murderous. Maxwell Lombardi. I should be dead now. He thought I deserved to die -" A hard lump restricted his throat. These were no crocodile tears. Embellished as it was, embroidered and smoothed over and touched up, the story he related was all too real. It was true that he should, by all accounts, be dead. Anger gripped his thoughts. Fury at his own weakness, fury at how on two separate occasions some undeserving cretin had had him over a barrel. Just barely he managed to twist the angry snarl on his face into a pained grimace. He couldn't lose his cool, it was hard enough improvising in the first place...
"So here I am." One finger caressed the shiny bruised skin around his eye. "Alone, weaponless, friendless, no food, no water, kicked around like a football. I just want to feel safe for a moment, think for a bit without looking over my shoulder all the time." Casting his glance at the girl's baggage, he noticed for the first time the marking on her spare bag - B082. His hair prickled. So she was traveling with a boy. And his previous experience with the male inhabitants of the island...
Fidgeting just a little, he cut to the chase. "Look. I don't want to be a burden to anyone. But this bandage is old," he showed his wounded arm, "and the cut isn't clean. I won't force my company, but seeing as I've been left with nothing," he gestured at his non-existent gear to emphasize its lack of being, "I can't help but ask, is there anything between your resources that I could use to prevent infection from finishing Maxwell's job?"
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GregTheAnti-Viking†
- Posts: 267
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:10 am
Tabi took another two steps back at first. Nick looked frightening covered in blood. He had killed people too! He burned someone to death!
"Peace. I just want some peace of mind."
Tabi stopped. She was stunned at first, not sure if she had heard him correctly. He seemed sad, his face was contorted into a frown, now that she saw it. Like he was hurt by her running away.
Her thoughts went back to Ivan. He had behaved similarly to what Nick was like right now. He had been horrified by what he had done to Keith. The man who barely said anything to anyone at school had broken down and cried after doing so. He had never meant to do it, maybe...
Maybe Nick was the same way...
Nick then went on to explain his mistreatment on the island. How he had been labeled an irredeemable killer who should be dead. Tabi felt terrible. He didn't deserve to die, nobody deserved to die here, it already happened nineteen times! Why did more people have to die? Maybe it was an accident. It was a misunderstanding between people! Maybe it was self defense. Like when Ivan had...protected himself...
Nobody would kill out of cold blood here! It wouldn't make any sense. Nobody that she knew would willingly do this...
Tabi's legs began to carry herself forwards to where Nick was now sitting. He was all alone, just like she was yesterday, alone in a swamp, nobody there to tell you it would be alright, nobody there to protect you. He was alone, but now, Tabi was here, just like Ivan was there for her...
She nodded at Nick's request for a fresh bandage, "Of course Nick."
Tabi took a place right beside him, removing her backpack and placing it down on the ground. She unzipped her pack and dug around for her first-aid kit.
"Just a moment, gotta dig it out of here."
"Peace. I just want some peace of mind."
Tabi stopped. She was stunned at first, not sure if she had heard him correctly. He seemed sad, his face was contorted into a frown, now that she saw it. Like he was hurt by her running away.
Her thoughts went back to Ivan. He had behaved similarly to what Nick was like right now. He had been horrified by what he had done to Keith. The man who barely said anything to anyone at school had broken down and cried after doing so. He had never meant to do it, maybe...
Maybe Nick was the same way...
Nick then went on to explain his mistreatment on the island. How he had been labeled an irredeemable killer who should be dead. Tabi felt terrible. He didn't deserve to die, nobody deserved to die here, it already happened nineteen times! Why did more people have to die? Maybe it was an accident. It was a misunderstanding between people! Maybe it was self defense. Like when Ivan had...protected himself...
Nobody would kill out of cold blood here! It wouldn't make any sense. Nobody that she knew would willingly do this...
Tabi's legs began to carry herself forwards to where Nick was now sitting. He was all alone, just like she was yesterday, alone in a swamp, nobody there to tell you it would be alright, nobody there to protect you. He was alone, but now, Tabi was here, just like Ivan was there for her...
She nodded at Nick's request for a fresh bandage, "Of course Nick."
Tabi took a place right beside him, removing her backpack and placing it down on the ground. She unzipped her pack and dug around for her first-aid kit.
"Just a moment, gotta dig it out of here."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler GregTheAnti-Viking. 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.
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 255
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
Peace.
What a silly concept.
Of course, he was one of a select few who really understood why. He'd been there. He'd been everywhere emotionally. In fact, he'd have to say that mentally, he was better off than any other competitor, period. He knew what it felt like to be in denial, to hope for escape, to sue for peace, to lose an engagement, to wish for death, to take a life. It certainly helped being the smartest darned kid ever to walk through the halls of Bayview Secondary, too. Nobody could out-think a brain trust. And not only that, but he ventured to say that he was top tier when it came to actually taking care of business. A wince, a stagger, an impassioned plea. A lightning stab. A kill. That's how it would work. Gun, no gun, whatever, it didn't matter when disarming "honesty" and a ragged appearance could bring anyone into that butter zone where his shiny new blade would reign supreme. So easy.
And yet - there was a weakness there, perhaps. Tabi, like Jennifer, was caring, hopeful, unsullied. The things he'd said and her acceptance of his dirty bloody ragged self - Nick felt a great yawning emptiness in his heart, gaping open to receive love and kindness and respect and virtue and "That's okay"s and "It's alright"s. But no, it could never be. He could try to be happy, or he could survive. Not both. And he'd made up his mind back in the tunnels. He hadn't known it, but those few adrenaline-overdosed moments had decided which of two incompatible paths he could take. If he wanted to be happy, why was he still alive? Surely he'd sensed that fundamental dichotomy as he walked into the shade, hoping never to return. Misguided as he was, he sensed it. Sensed it, and rejected the other way out, the bliss of oblivion.
He'd have to make a note of that. No more offering to let fair maidens bandage up his arm. He couldn't submit to that base human drive, the desire to seek happiness, that was something that was clear. But it opened such deep feelings, dredged up a hope and joy he wanted no part of. Besides, the sword and the bag lay behind him. He had to retrieve them after this little scene if he wanted to see the next sunrise. And he couldn't retrieve them without a veritable marquee telling Tabi to run far, far away, because why should she stick around a moment longer if complete trust was even in question? Then there he'd be, everything ventured but nothing gained. At any rate, he had a decision to follow. It wasn't his to make, not when his past self had set him up so completely to follow through on the intended course. There was no option but to do what he knew he must: this is why he held the monopoly on brainpower.
Heaving himself up, he took a step forward, and then turned. One spidery hand reached down to envelop the back of the kneeling girl's neck, worming a finger under her jaw on one side and his thumb on the other, cinching slightly in a grip that was not tight but unmistakably firm.
"That's enough. Step back from the bags and don't scream, because I'd hate to have to kill with my bare hands again."
What a silly concept.
Of course, he was one of a select few who really understood why. He'd been there. He'd been everywhere emotionally. In fact, he'd have to say that mentally, he was better off than any other competitor, period. He knew what it felt like to be in denial, to hope for escape, to sue for peace, to lose an engagement, to wish for death, to take a life. It certainly helped being the smartest darned kid ever to walk through the halls of Bayview Secondary, too. Nobody could out-think a brain trust. And not only that, but he ventured to say that he was top tier when it came to actually taking care of business. A wince, a stagger, an impassioned plea. A lightning stab. A kill. That's how it would work. Gun, no gun, whatever, it didn't matter when disarming "honesty" and a ragged appearance could bring anyone into that butter zone where his shiny new blade would reign supreme. So easy.
And yet - there was a weakness there, perhaps. Tabi, like Jennifer, was caring, hopeful, unsullied. The things he'd said and her acceptance of his dirty bloody ragged self - Nick felt a great yawning emptiness in his heart, gaping open to receive love and kindness and respect and virtue and "That's okay"s and "It's alright"s. But no, it could never be. He could try to be happy, or he could survive. Not both. And he'd made up his mind back in the tunnels. He hadn't known it, but those few adrenaline-overdosed moments had decided which of two incompatible paths he could take. If he wanted to be happy, why was he still alive? Surely he'd sensed that fundamental dichotomy as he walked into the shade, hoping never to return. Misguided as he was, he sensed it. Sensed it, and rejected the other way out, the bliss of oblivion.
He'd have to make a note of that. No more offering to let fair maidens bandage up his arm. He couldn't submit to that base human drive, the desire to seek happiness, that was something that was clear. But it opened such deep feelings, dredged up a hope and joy he wanted no part of. Besides, the sword and the bag lay behind him. He had to retrieve them after this little scene if he wanted to see the next sunrise. And he couldn't retrieve them without a veritable marquee telling Tabi to run far, far away, because why should she stick around a moment longer if complete trust was even in question? Then there he'd be, everything ventured but nothing gained. At any rate, he had a decision to follow. It wasn't his to make, not when his past self had set him up so completely to follow through on the intended course. There was no option but to do what he knew he must: this is why he held the monopoly on brainpower.
Heaving himself up, he took a step forward, and then turned. One spidery hand reached down to envelop the back of the kneeling girl's neck, worming a finger under her jaw on one side and his thumb on the other, cinching slightly in a grip that was not tight but unmistakably firm.
"That's enough. Step back from the bags and don't scream, because I'd hate to have to kill with my bare hands again."
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GregTheAnti-Viking†
- Posts: 267
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:10 am
((There is a tiny bit of godmodding here, but it's all approved))
Tabi heard the sound of Nick standing up. She shook her head at the action, but did not look behind her. If Nick wanted to be impatient about getting a fresh bandage, he would just have to wait until she fished out her first-aid kit.
There was an increasing sense of worry floating to the surface of Tabi's mind; however, a problem that she couldn't quite ignore. Ivan was still nowhere in sight. The shock of waking up and the need to help Nick had temporarily removed her from these thoughts, but they had returned once more. It was possible that Ivan had just wandered off for the moment. Maybe he had heard a noise and he was just going to check it out. It was impossible that Ivan would have abandoned her. Not after all that they had gone through over the last day and early morning. Ivan just wouldn't do that.
Or may-
Tabi felt the hand touch the back of her neck and then suddenly it circled around it. She felt it slowly tightening around her causing her to cough. Her body began to struggle for a moment, but her breathing became labored and she felt herself gasping for air.
"That's enough. Step back from the bags and don't scream, because I'd hate to have to kill with my bare hands again."
Tabi squeaked at first, a fit of coughs following her afterwards. She wanted to breathe as fast as she could, she wanted her lungs to bloom with fresh air entering it, but only small puffs were entering inside. Her eyes widening as she came to the realization of what was happening.
Nick was going to kill her! He was going to kill her right here and right now. There was a reason why she didn't see Ivan! Nick had killed him! That explained all the blood too! It wasn't his; it really did belong to Ivan! Ivan was dead...
Now she was next, he had said something about wanting bags. Why did everyone want her bag? Clio, Keith and now Nick. They all just wanted to take her bag and now Nick wanted to take her life as well.
Hot tears ran down Tabi's cheeks as she just sat there. She wanted to do something! Run away, fight back, anything but just stay here. But here she was, not moving, blubering, and helpless...again...
There was nobody there for her now...
Tabi heard something moving in the background, but now, she felt that it was going to be the last thing the weak girl would ever hear. It was too late for her now...
"Let go of Tabi..."
That voice...it was...familiar...
"I...van?"
Tabi heard the sound of Nick standing up. She shook her head at the action, but did not look behind her. If Nick wanted to be impatient about getting a fresh bandage, he would just have to wait until she fished out her first-aid kit.
There was an increasing sense of worry floating to the surface of Tabi's mind; however, a problem that she couldn't quite ignore. Ivan was still nowhere in sight. The shock of waking up and the need to help Nick had temporarily removed her from these thoughts, but they had returned once more. It was possible that Ivan had just wandered off for the moment. Maybe he had heard a noise and he was just going to check it out. It was impossible that Ivan would have abandoned her. Not after all that they had gone through over the last day and early morning. Ivan just wouldn't do that.
Or may-
Tabi felt the hand touch the back of her neck and then suddenly it circled around it. She felt it slowly tightening around her causing her to cough. Her body began to struggle for a moment, but her breathing became labored and she felt herself gasping for air.
"That's enough. Step back from the bags and don't scream, because I'd hate to have to kill with my bare hands again."
Tabi squeaked at first, a fit of coughs following her afterwards. She wanted to breathe as fast as she could, she wanted her lungs to bloom with fresh air entering it, but only small puffs were entering inside. Her eyes widening as she came to the realization of what was happening.
Nick was going to kill her! He was going to kill her right here and right now. There was a reason why she didn't see Ivan! Nick had killed him! That explained all the blood too! It wasn't his; it really did belong to Ivan! Ivan was dead...
Now she was next, he had said something about wanting bags. Why did everyone want her bag? Clio, Keith and now Nick. They all just wanted to take her bag and now Nick wanted to take her life as well.
Hot tears ran down Tabi's cheeks as she just sat there. She wanted to do something! Run away, fight back, anything but just stay here. But here she was, not moving, blubering, and helpless...again...
There was nobody there for her now...
Tabi heard something moving in the background, but now, she felt that it was going to be the last thing the weak girl would ever hear. It was too late for her now...
"Let go of Tabi..."
That voice...it was...familiar...
"I...van?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler GregTheAnti-Viking. 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.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
((GMing approved. Also, 777th post!))
Some things just never seemed to change. Students were out for themselves, life was still hell, the world that everybody had been dropped in was still a complete shithole, and kids were attacking others for no other reason than to further their own fleeting existence for just a few more precious moments. Maybe it was unreasonable to expect that leaving the greens and re-entering the forest would foster a happy scene or a particularly peaceful one, but the expecation of getting back to a sleeping girl who needed somebody to count on wasn't exactly that far-fetched.
Yet, there somebody was, with his hands on Tabi Gweneth.The girl was stooped over her daypack with some of its contents partially upset. A bandage or two was visible, and the offending boy was looking pretty banged up, so guessing what had happened wasn't that much of a brainteaser. Then, of course, to the fuming Russian boy with an emotionless weapon in his hands, petty details like that didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was this kid, this... prick, was hurting the only company he's had for a few days. That, and...
"Let go of Tabi."
((Ivan Kuznetsov, continued from Pride and Glory))
A tube of metal was pressed firmly against the back of the boy's head. All it took was one nice little squeeze of that trigger, and anything in front of that barrel was fairly well obliterated. Sometimes Lady Luck could be a harsh mistress, sure, and a downright bitch. It wasn't that the fair lady hadn't reconsidered her ways, oh no... just her target. The boy who was manhandling Tabi had to now deal with the misfortune that Ivan's rage had earned him an impliment with which to act on it, and the rage was now channeled. He wasn't going to kill without reason, but this here was giving him a DAMN good reason.
The orders were simple, and Ivan felt that they did not bear repeating. The fear of his target was just a bit more than apparent... no, it was practically TACTILE. For more than one reason, Ivan would have loved nothing more than to take all of this in, enjoy it while he still could, but that was a path he no longer chose. There was no joy in watching the other girl suffer like this, but there wasn't even any cathartic joy in trying to make this boy shit his pants in fear, having him know that if he made the wrong move, his head and most of his neck would cease to exist.
The short pause after Ivan gave the instructions was reasonable, as there had to be some time to allow the fool to realize that he had made a terrible mistake. Any time further than that, though, and Ivan pressed the barrel of the ever-so-lethal shotgun harder against his head. For some reason, he wanted Nick (that's right, his name was Nick... from economics. Made sense now) to disobey in some manner, to maybe grip Tabi tighter without hurting her, maybe try to get away, so Ivan could teach him how utterly useless a gesture that would have been. But no, Nick had slowly released his grip on the girl with some trembling movements.
If it were not for the anger welling up inside to block everything else out, that would have resulted in a fresh of breath air. Ivan could only focus on the goal, however; his survival, Tabi's survival, so they too could eek out another meaningless day. The insant he saw Tabi lean forward after being free, Ivan tensed up... and brought the butt of the shotgun swinging up at Nick's skull.
Nick would fall, but Ivan was there waiting, the terrible instrument of death pointed and poised, ready for the kill.
"What the fuck did you think would happen!?" Ivan hollered, oblivious to the rising red pigment in his face. The red was flowing over him once more... this shotgun was so Keith never had to happen again, but people just kept finding them... why wouldn't this stop? Would it ever stop?
"ANSWER ME!"
Why won't it stop!?
Some things just never seemed to change. Students were out for themselves, life was still hell, the world that everybody had been dropped in was still a complete shithole, and kids were attacking others for no other reason than to further their own fleeting existence for just a few more precious moments. Maybe it was unreasonable to expect that leaving the greens and re-entering the forest would foster a happy scene or a particularly peaceful one, but the expecation of getting back to a sleeping girl who needed somebody to count on wasn't exactly that far-fetched.
Yet, there somebody was, with his hands on Tabi Gweneth.The girl was stooped over her daypack with some of its contents partially upset. A bandage or two was visible, and the offending boy was looking pretty banged up, so guessing what had happened wasn't that much of a brainteaser. Then, of course, to the fuming Russian boy with an emotionless weapon in his hands, petty details like that didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was this kid, this... prick, was hurting the only company he's had for a few days. That, and...
"Let go of Tabi."
((Ivan Kuznetsov, continued from Pride and Glory))
A tube of metal was pressed firmly against the back of the boy's head. All it took was one nice little squeeze of that trigger, and anything in front of that barrel was fairly well obliterated. Sometimes Lady Luck could be a harsh mistress, sure, and a downright bitch. It wasn't that the fair lady hadn't reconsidered her ways, oh no... just her target. The boy who was manhandling Tabi had to now deal with the misfortune that Ivan's rage had earned him an impliment with which to act on it, and the rage was now channeled. He wasn't going to kill without reason, but this here was giving him a DAMN good reason.
The orders were simple, and Ivan felt that they did not bear repeating. The fear of his target was just a bit more than apparent... no, it was practically TACTILE. For more than one reason, Ivan would have loved nothing more than to take all of this in, enjoy it while he still could, but that was a path he no longer chose. There was no joy in watching the other girl suffer like this, but there wasn't even any cathartic joy in trying to make this boy shit his pants in fear, having him know that if he made the wrong move, his head and most of his neck would cease to exist.
The short pause after Ivan gave the instructions was reasonable, as there had to be some time to allow the fool to realize that he had made a terrible mistake. Any time further than that, though, and Ivan pressed the barrel of the ever-so-lethal shotgun harder against his head. For some reason, he wanted Nick (that's right, his name was Nick... from economics. Made sense now) to disobey in some manner, to maybe grip Tabi tighter without hurting her, maybe try to get away, so Ivan could teach him how utterly useless a gesture that would have been. But no, Nick had slowly released his grip on the girl with some trembling movements.
If it were not for the anger welling up inside to block everything else out, that would have resulted in a fresh of breath air. Ivan could only focus on the goal, however; his survival, Tabi's survival, so they too could eek out another meaningless day. The insant he saw Tabi lean forward after being free, Ivan tensed up... and brought the butt of the shotgun swinging up at Nick's skull.
Nick would fall, but Ivan was there waiting, the terrible instrument of death pointed and poised, ready for the kill.
"What the fuck did you think would happen!?" Ivan hollered, oblivious to the rising red pigment in his face. The red was flowing over him once more... this shotgun was so Keith never had to happen again, but people just kept finding them... why wouldn't this stop? Would it ever stop?
"ANSWER ME!"
Why won't it stop!?
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 255
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
Everything was going according to plan.
And then, suddenly, it wasn't.
He should've known. It was so obvious. So blatantly, stupidly, massively, incredibly obvious. All his plans so far had gone awry. And this, his greatest and last, had gone to Hell in the most spectacularly horrible fashion imaginable.
So far, what had he set off to accomplish? Day one. Stay calm, earn an ally, avoid fighting at all costs. That had lasted a good five minutes. Even now Alex could be tracking his footsteps, armed with dogged determination to see him to his grave. Not that that mattered any more. Still day one. The Gazebo. Burn off some stress - literally. Failed even worse than his encounter with Alex and Andrea. That was clear as day to anyone who could see his battered face. Maxwell, too, might return to finish the job - or come to see it already finished.
Day two. Have a nice rest, listen to the announcements. Bupkiss: Body? Still sore. Notebook? Still blank. All he'd come away with was a knowledge of the dangerzones and a creeping thought resolving itself into his mind, a knowledge of who exactly was behind him at that moment. After the tunnels, in the shade of the trees. Another bloody, senseless kill behind him. One goal, just one simple mission. Another miss. Failure at suicide - failing at failing. Goodness, could he do anything right? And now. Standing in the present, miserable twisted existence unraveling itself before his eyes for the last time.
It was something he'd seen in the movies hundreds of times before. Gun to the head, the bad guy knows exactly what it is. Somehow, that seemed to be one of those rare truths in Hollywood. There was no doubt, no doubt in his mind that that cold metal on the back of his head could send him spraying in a billion atomized droplets all over Tabi. Funny how that worked. Point a gun at a caveman, he'd wonder where you got the long skinny rock. But point it at a man nowadays and the cold, clinical, pure and simple fact that he was about to die would announce itself by dropping his stomach through his legs.
This would be one for the highlight reels, no doubt. Self-described genius kid chooses life over death - and then walks right into the single most dangerous spot on the island, bar the three danger zones. There to meet him? B082. Ivan Kuznetsov. The biggest, baddest killer on the island, armed with a shiny new toy and one heck of a motive. And he, Nick, the walking brain trust, foolishly empty-handed, leaving his instrument of unmitigated death and destruction ten, maybe twenty yards away. Two seconds on a good day; now, a distance beyond the span of his remaining life. How could he not have seen it? Near the greens. Nice, innocent girl, obviously traveling with someone. Who is obviously protecting her, hence her helpfulness and helplessness. Traveling with someone - a boy - right near the place where the freaking Best Kill Award was dropped. The boy was missing for the moment. Could anyone honestly not figure it out if they had two brain cells to rub together?
One shaking hand removed itself from the girl's neck. And now what? He'd let go. There was nothing to do but stand there like a pathetic cornered dog, giving a thousand-mile stare as the sweat trickled through his hair. He'd been through Hell already, but nothing, absolutely nothing held a candle to how he felt right now. He was running on autopilot, acquiescing to the screaming, raging survivalist deep within the recesses of his mind. There was no other reason than a general "why not?" because any moment now he'd be chunky salsa, no miss chance, no saving throw. His heart beat. The concept of time seemed to have stepped out for a smoke, because he could swear his heart would rip itself out of his chest any moment, yet it seem -
CRACK
He hit the ground. A microsecond later, that horrible, headsplitting pain. And then he was falling. It seemed to be in the wrong order, but who was he to judge? There was an amazing wealth of things he didn't know, as evidenced by this ignominious fate. For a moment, he paused in confusion, and then realized the source. He wasn't dead - yet. Ivan's face was almost as red as the blood on the butt of the gun - another puzzle to his addled mind.
Ah.
He's decided to go with the slow way out.
Screw that. Ivan could take his stupid bloody torture and shove it. But there was nothing for it. His question seemed to be one with no right answer, but maybe he'd use the gun the proper way if something pushed him over the brink - he was certainly teetering on it, after all.
Nick Reid could accomplish amazing things. Unfortunately, they were all amazing failures. When someone put a mind of that caliber into doing something, the disastrous repercussions would far outstrip those of plans made by lesser men. That is to say, he could produce a spectacularly wrong result when the mood struck.
The mood struck.
He looked at Ivan - both of him - through eyes dripping tears not of anger or sadness, but of intense, unbearable pain. There was no way he could look dignified, but propping himself up on one elbow, he could at least be ingratiatingly horrible. Addressing the Ivan on the right, he spoke.
"Doesn't matter now, does it? I suppose I'm the next big show for your girlfriend there. Tell me - I deserve my exit more than anything you've ever deserved in your life. But how does a pestilent little punching bag like me deserve the honor of being sent off by none other than Danya's favorite little boy, the great and mighty hunter himself?"
And then, suddenly, it wasn't.
He should've known. It was so obvious. So blatantly, stupidly, massively, incredibly obvious. All his plans so far had gone awry. And this, his greatest and last, had gone to Hell in the most spectacularly horrible fashion imaginable.
So far, what had he set off to accomplish? Day one. Stay calm, earn an ally, avoid fighting at all costs. That had lasted a good five minutes. Even now Alex could be tracking his footsteps, armed with dogged determination to see him to his grave. Not that that mattered any more. Still day one. The Gazebo. Burn off some stress - literally. Failed even worse than his encounter with Alex and Andrea. That was clear as day to anyone who could see his battered face. Maxwell, too, might return to finish the job - or come to see it already finished.
Day two. Have a nice rest, listen to the announcements. Bupkiss: Body? Still sore. Notebook? Still blank. All he'd come away with was a knowledge of the dangerzones and a creeping thought resolving itself into his mind, a knowledge of who exactly was behind him at that moment. After the tunnels, in the shade of the trees. Another bloody, senseless kill behind him. One goal, just one simple mission. Another miss. Failure at suicide - failing at failing. Goodness, could he do anything right? And now. Standing in the present, miserable twisted existence unraveling itself before his eyes for the last time.
It was something he'd seen in the movies hundreds of times before. Gun to the head, the bad guy knows exactly what it is. Somehow, that seemed to be one of those rare truths in Hollywood. There was no doubt, no doubt in his mind that that cold metal on the back of his head could send him spraying in a billion atomized droplets all over Tabi. Funny how that worked. Point a gun at a caveman, he'd wonder where you got the long skinny rock. But point it at a man nowadays and the cold, clinical, pure and simple fact that he was about to die would announce itself by dropping his stomach through his legs.
This would be one for the highlight reels, no doubt. Self-described genius kid chooses life over death - and then walks right into the single most dangerous spot on the island, bar the three danger zones. There to meet him? B082. Ivan Kuznetsov. The biggest, baddest killer on the island, armed with a shiny new toy and one heck of a motive. And he, Nick, the walking brain trust, foolishly empty-handed, leaving his instrument of unmitigated death and destruction ten, maybe twenty yards away. Two seconds on a good day; now, a distance beyond the span of his remaining life. How could he not have seen it? Near the greens. Nice, innocent girl, obviously traveling with someone. Who is obviously protecting her, hence her helpfulness and helplessness. Traveling with someone - a boy - right near the place where the freaking Best Kill Award was dropped. The boy was missing for the moment. Could anyone honestly not figure it out if they had two brain cells to rub together?
One shaking hand removed itself from the girl's neck. And now what? He'd let go. There was nothing to do but stand there like a pathetic cornered dog, giving a thousand-mile stare as the sweat trickled through his hair. He'd been through Hell already, but nothing, absolutely nothing held a candle to how he felt right now. He was running on autopilot, acquiescing to the screaming, raging survivalist deep within the recesses of his mind. There was no other reason than a general "why not?" because any moment now he'd be chunky salsa, no miss chance, no saving throw. His heart beat. The concept of time seemed to have stepped out for a smoke, because he could swear his heart would rip itself out of his chest any moment, yet it seem -
CRACK
He hit the ground. A microsecond later, that horrible, headsplitting pain. And then he was falling. It seemed to be in the wrong order, but who was he to judge? There was an amazing wealth of things he didn't know, as evidenced by this ignominious fate. For a moment, he paused in confusion, and then realized the source. He wasn't dead - yet. Ivan's face was almost as red as the blood on the butt of the gun - another puzzle to his addled mind.
Ah.
He's decided to go with the slow way out.
Screw that. Ivan could take his stupid bloody torture and shove it. But there was nothing for it. His question seemed to be one with no right answer, but maybe he'd use the gun the proper way if something pushed him over the brink - he was certainly teetering on it, after all.
Nick Reid could accomplish amazing things. Unfortunately, they were all amazing failures. When someone put a mind of that caliber into doing something, the disastrous repercussions would far outstrip those of plans made by lesser men. That is to say, he could produce a spectacularly wrong result when the mood struck.
The mood struck.
He looked at Ivan - both of him - through eyes dripping tears not of anger or sadness, but of intense, unbearable pain. There was no way he could look dignified, but propping himself up on one elbow, he could at least be ingratiatingly horrible. Addressing the Ivan on the right, he spoke.
"Doesn't matter now, does it? I suppose I'm the next big show for your girlfriend there. Tell me - I deserve my exit more than anything you've ever deserved in your life. But how does a pestilent little punching bag like me deserve the honor of being sent off by none other than Danya's favorite little boy, the great and mighty hunter himself?"
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GregTheAnti-Viking†
- Posts: 267
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:10 am
Tabi felt the grip loosening around her neck. Air suddenly entered her lungs as she breathed, the rush too much for her causing her to go down to her knees and cough. She gasped for air before scrambling on her hands and knees. Nick had let go of her, and her first instinct was to get away from him.
When she had gone as far as she felt necessary, she turned back and saw the scene before her. Nick had frozen himself, there was the barrel of a gun pointed at him. What kind of gun she didn't know, but it looked gruesome and deadly. Her heart was still beating rapidly in her chest as she was caught in it's grim design.
Her gaze eventually moved from the gun to it's handler and she felt a wave of relief washing over her. It was Ivan! He wasn't dead! He had saved her from almost certain death. She wasn't sure how he had gotten that freakish weapon, but that didn't concern her just yet. It was an effective scarer and now all he'd have to do is get Nick to leave and then it would all be okay.
She nearly had a heart attack when Ivan beat Nick on the head with his gun. It was so sudden and Nick went down so quickly. For a moment Tabi thought that he had killed him too.
Tabi saw the color in his cheeks swell up. She had seen it before. It was in that moment the day before, that moment when Keith had left the world. That moment when Ivan gotten scared, that moment when Ivan got angry.
"What the fuck did you think would happen!?"
The fear began to wrench into her heart again. Ivan might kill Nick! He didn't deserve to be killed! Nobody deserved it! Ivan didn't deserve to be labeled a killer either. Tabi knew that! He was a good person! He cried when he had killed Keith. She had to do something!
"ANSWER ME!"
She recoiled backwards. What could she do? She wanted to move, but she was frozen again. She wanted to yell but her lips were glued shut. Time had seemed to slow for her, the seconds felt like minutes of silence. Ivan heaving and pointing the gun. Nick, head bloodied and breathing heavily. Before he spoke.
"Doesn't matter now, does it? I suppose I'm the next big show for your girlfriend there. Tell me - I deserve my exit more than anything you've ever deserved in your life. But how does a pestilent little punching bag like me deserve the honor of being sent off by none other than Danya's favorite little boy, the great and mighty hunter himself?"
The restraining bolt was starting to snap, Tabi could see it now. Ivan stood there staring at him for a moment, before his red face went redder and his lips curled down in anger. He was going to do it! There was no stopping him now! Tabi's lips quivered and she felt her eyes going misty. Ivan had raised his gun up and pointed it towards Nick's head...
His hand hovering right before the trigger...
Tabi felt the tears welling up no. Mucus was starting to run down her nose. Her hands curled up into fists. The glue that had held her lips together suddenly came off. She opened them and a loud yell burst out...
"IVAN, NO!"
When she had gone as far as she felt necessary, she turned back and saw the scene before her. Nick had frozen himself, there was the barrel of a gun pointed at him. What kind of gun she didn't know, but it looked gruesome and deadly. Her heart was still beating rapidly in her chest as she was caught in it's grim design.
Her gaze eventually moved from the gun to it's handler and she felt a wave of relief washing over her. It was Ivan! He wasn't dead! He had saved her from almost certain death. She wasn't sure how he had gotten that freakish weapon, but that didn't concern her just yet. It was an effective scarer and now all he'd have to do is get Nick to leave and then it would all be okay.
She nearly had a heart attack when Ivan beat Nick on the head with his gun. It was so sudden and Nick went down so quickly. For a moment Tabi thought that he had killed him too.
Tabi saw the color in his cheeks swell up. She had seen it before. It was in that moment the day before, that moment when Keith had left the world. That moment when Ivan gotten scared, that moment when Ivan got angry.
"What the fuck did you think would happen!?"
The fear began to wrench into her heart again. Ivan might kill Nick! He didn't deserve to be killed! Nobody deserved it! Ivan didn't deserve to be labeled a killer either. Tabi knew that! He was a good person! He cried when he had killed Keith. She had to do something!
"ANSWER ME!"
She recoiled backwards. What could she do? She wanted to move, but she was frozen again. She wanted to yell but her lips were glued shut. Time had seemed to slow for her, the seconds felt like minutes of silence. Ivan heaving and pointing the gun. Nick, head bloodied and breathing heavily. Before he spoke.
"Doesn't matter now, does it? I suppose I'm the next big show for your girlfriend there. Tell me - I deserve my exit more than anything you've ever deserved in your life. But how does a pestilent little punching bag like me deserve the honor of being sent off by none other than Danya's favorite little boy, the great and mighty hunter himself?"
The restraining bolt was starting to snap, Tabi could see it now. Ivan stood there staring at him for a moment, before his red face went redder and his lips curled down in anger. He was going to do it! There was no stopping him now! Tabi's lips quivered and she felt her eyes going misty. Ivan had raised his gun up and pointed it towards Nick's head...
His hand hovering right before the trigger...
Tabi felt the tears welling up no. Mucus was starting to run down her nose. Her hands curled up into fists. The glue that had held her lips together suddenly came off. She opened them and a loud yell burst out...
"IVAN, NO!"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler GregTheAnti-Viking. 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.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
For all the things Nick had done, that was enough to condemn the boy to hell, at least in Ivan's eyes. The rage that had been sewn from his shame from that first announcement was being fed from Nick's actions, his indignance, his skull's refusal to crack open when Ivan had bashed it with his gun. but for all of Nick's crimes, the boy had the audacity to sit up, to look Ivan in the face, and when prompted to answer, had done as he asked... but not in a manner Ivan wanted to hear.
"Doesn't matter now, does it? I suppose I'm the next big show for your girlfriend there. Tell me - I deserve my exit more than anything you've ever deserved in your life. But how does a pestilent little punching bag like me deserve the honor of being sent off by none other than Danya's favorite little boy, the great and mighty hunter himself?"
He had found himself stunned there for a moment, unable to find the power in himself to pull the trigger and end Nick's sorry existence mid-speech. It wasn't as though the hollow words themselves that had the meaning to stun Ivan, but they were enough to incite an unbelievable amount of anger. His finger was now resting squarely on the trigger. His body was shaking. His heart was burning, and his tongue wanted to say something... anything that would be fitting for Nick to hear before Ivan sent him straight to hell.
It was to his great frustration that he couldn't think of anything. His breathing heightened into quiet shrieks with every breath taken in, and shivering groan with every exhale. Why couldn't he vocalize his hatred? That's the only sentence his mind could put together to say, but even that couldn't be made coherent as his entire body trembled. Hate... I hate... you.... Maybe if he thought it hard enough, Nick could feel it. I... hate... you...
But simply hating Nick wasn't enough. It was time for him to pay for what he had done. He could lie there on the ground and spout all the useless bullshit he wanted, but Ivan would see to the end which one of them was laughing when their insides weren't rendered to a fine paste. Resetting his hand, he placed his finger on the trigger once more...
"IVAN NO!
His eyes squeezed shut as Tabi's voice ripped through his mind. The way she sounded, so frightened and desperately pleading for the life of another, it was as if his ears had never been introduced to it for all it shocked him. But no... he HAD heard it before. The way she sounded, right down to the inflections... Tabi screamed just like that as he murdered Keith.
He was about to murder again.
Not... not again... he... he deserves it, but...
With jerky reluctance, Ivan lifted his head and straightened his posture, lifting the shotgun away from Nick's body. He still stood there for an eternity, allowing his breath to calm and his mind to gather. The red cleared from his eyes, indicating that he could finally speak.
"... You deserve everything that I do. Nothing more, nothing less. BUT... pray to god that either one of us is dead before we meet again on this island, because if I ever see you get near me or Tabi..." Ivan pointed the shotgun at him once more, but in a cold manner. The weapon no longer begged for death; rather, Ivan held himself aloft, showing Nick that he was the superior of the two.
"Beat it."
"Doesn't matter now, does it? I suppose I'm the next big show for your girlfriend there. Tell me - I deserve my exit more than anything you've ever deserved in your life. But how does a pestilent little punching bag like me deserve the honor of being sent off by none other than Danya's favorite little boy, the great and mighty hunter himself?"
He had found himself stunned there for a moment, unable to find the power in himself to pull the trigger and end Nick's sorry existence mid-speech. It wasn't as though the hollow words themselves that had the meaning to stun Ivan, but they were enough to incite an unbelievable amount of anger. His finger was now resting squarely on the trigger. His body was shaking. His heart was burning, and his tongue wanted to say something... anything that would be fitting for Nick to hear before Ivan sent him straight to hell.
It was to his great frustration that he couldn't think of anything. His breathing heightened into quiet shrieks with every breath taken in, and shivering groan with every exhale. Why couldn't he vocalize his hatred? That's the only sentence his mind could put together to say, but even that couldn't be made coherent as his entire body trembled. Hate... I hate... you.... Maybe if he thought it hard enough, Nick could feel it. I... hate... you...
But simply hating Nick wasn't enough. It was time for him to pay for what he had done. He could lie there on the ground and spout all the useless bullshit he wanted, but Ivan would see to the end which one of them was laughing when their insides weren't rendered to a fine paste. Resetting his hand, he placed his finger on the trigger once more...
"IVAN NO!
His eyes squeezed shut as Tabi's voice ripped through his mind. The way she sounded, so frightened and desperately pleading for the life of another, it was as if his ears had never been introduced to it for all it shocked him. But no... he HAD heard it before. The way she sounded, right down to the inflections... Tabi screamed just like that as he murdered Keith.
He was about to murder again.
Not... not again... he... he deserves it, but...
With jerky reluctance, Ivan lifted his head and straightened his posture, lifting the shotgun away from Nick's body. He still stood there for an eternity, allowing his breath to calm and his mind to gather. The red cleared from his eyes, indicating that he could finally speak.
"... You deserve everything that I do. Nothing more, nothing less. BUT... pray to god that either one of us is dead before we meet again on this island, because if I ever see you get near me or Tabi..." Ivan pointed the shotgun at him once more, but in a cold manner. The weapon no longer begged for death; rather, Ivan held himself aloft, showing Nick that he was the superior of the two.
"Beat it."
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Rattlesnake
- Posts: 255
- Joined: Tue Aug 28, 2018 12:51 am
Nick's mind was nothing more than seething tangle of conflicting emotion. He was despondent at the thought of leaving the game so early; he was despondent that it hadn't gone on longer. He was mad at Ivan for outplaying him; he was mad at himself for playing so horribly. He couldn't bear being more fodder for the island's most dangerous player; he couldn't bear being cut down by anyone else. But one thought, one feeling cut through everything else so unambiguously: he was terribly relieved. Any moment now, Ivan would be unable to resist pulling that trigger.
Nick could see it in his eyes. That look - it was absolutely crystal clear to him because he'd seen that look before. Heck, he'd done it before. It was an absolute loathing, a heart-to-heart communication of just how dead he'd be in a second. There was no feeling in the world like this. Any moment now -
"IVAN, NO!"
Sonuva-
What in the world did she think she was doing? This wasn't even about her any more. She was a noncombatant. A nonissue. This was supposed to be just him and Ivan, a confluence of killers where one of them would further his game and the other would be sent off to a happy home. The nerve of her-
It took a moment for him to realize that his life had been spared. That made no sense whatsoever. And now Ivan was just standing there, breathing, surely about to say something. Didn't he want to play? Was it really possible that three people now (the fourth he knew nothing of) had made the spectacularly stupid mistake of deciding to let him live? How was that a good idea?
Shattered streams of thought whirled through his mind. One caught him off-guard, though he thought in retrospect that it should have been obvious. It was anger. He was - could that really be right? - angry that Tabi had stepped in, that Ivan had chosen not to end his life. What it really came down to, he'd learn on examining his thoughts, was a matter of respect. Nick had killed someone. Two people, in fact. What was Ivan's count? Was he still at one? He'd heard Nick tell how he'd killed Tom with his bare hands, he'd surely seen the blood on his shirt and his face as evidence. And yet he was just going to ignore the double murderer in front of him, like he wasn't even a threat.
He was so confused - could his failure know no limits? He'd failed to make the winner of the best freaking kill award finish him off. And now his would-be killer was talking, pelting words that hit Nick with all the force of falling dandruff. Deserved everything he did? What, a whack on the head and nothing more? (Another bizarre stab of anger). The next bit was particularly funny to Nick. Another vow to kill him the next time they met. He could just take a number, he thought, heaving himself up, watching the world spin. In fact, he would tell him that.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm dead next time, take a bloody number, you're not the first in line."
Returning to his baser instincts now that his inner survivalist was having a well-deserved lie-down, he was quite content to be horrible to Ivan again. Another comment, though, might be pressing his luck.
What the heck, you only die once.
Poised under the shadow of a tree not far from Tabi, he stopped suddenly, turned and bowed deeply towards her. "Milady," he said gratefully, then tore out of there like a bat out of Hell.
((Nick Reid continued in F**king Science!))
Nick could see it in his eyes. That look - it was absolutely crystal clear to him because he'd seen that look before. Heck, he'd done it before. It was an absolute loathing, a heart-to-heart communication of just how dead he'd be in a second. There was no feeling in the world like this. Any moment now -
"IVAN, NO!"
Sonuva-
What in the world did she think she was doing? This wasn't even about her any more. She was a noncombatant. A nonissue. This was supposed to be just him and Ivan, a confluence of killers where one of them would further his game and the other would be sent off to a happy home. The nerve of her-
It took a moment for him to realize that his life had been spared. That made no sense whatsoever. And now Ivan was just standing there, breathing, surely about to say something. Didn't he want to play? Was it really possible that three people now (the fourth he knew nothing of) had made the spectacularly stupid mistake of deciding to let him live? How was that a good idea?
Shattered streams of thought whirled through his mind. One caught him off-guard, though he thought in retrospect that it should have been obvious. It was anger. He was - could that really be right? - angry that Tabi had stepped in, that Ivan had chosen not to end his life. What it really came down to, he'd learn on examining his thoughts, was a matter of respect. Nick had killed someone. Two people, in fact. What was Ivan's count? Was he still at one? He'd heard Nick tell how he'd killed Tom with his bare hands, he'd surely seen the blood on his shirt and his face as evidence. And yet he was just going to ignore the double murderer in front of him, like he wasn't even a threat.
He was so confused - could his failure know no limits? He'd failed to make the winner of the best freaking kill award finish him off. And now his would-be killer was talking, pelting words that hit Nick with all the force of falling dandruff. Deserved everything he did? What, a whack on the head and nothing more? (Another bizarre stab of anger). The next bit was particularly funny to Nick. Another vow to kill him the next time they met. He could just take a number, he thought, heaving himself up, watching the world spin. In fact, he would tell him that.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm dead next time, take a bloody number, you're not the first in line."
Returning to his baser instincts now that his inner survivalist was having a well-deserved lie-down, he was quite content to be horrible to Ivan again. Another comment, though, might be pressing his luck.
What the heck, you only die once.
Poised under the shadow of a tree not far from Tabi, he stopped suddenly, turned and bowed deeply towards her. "Milady," he said gratefully, then tore out of there like a bat out of Hell.
((Nick Reid continued in F**king Science!))