It was a good thing that Sarah wasn't really all that privy to what the others in the group were saying. If she was, she'd have blushed quite impressively owing to her lack of thought to the male anatomy.
Well, she would have been if she could think straight.
As it was, her mind simply couldn't take the strain of being stressed out for days any longer. She was exhausted and miserable. What's more, she somehow couldn't stop crying! Tears just seemed to keep flowing out of her eyes.
All she could do was replay that scene over and over and over again in her head.
Blood. Screaming. Sarah trying to pull them apart. A spearhead sprouting from a torso. Wide, unblinking staring eyes.
The tiny girl clung to Stacy, sobbing into her shoulder for a while, her entire body shuddering as she let out a few more gasping sobs, completely ignoring Brendan, his leg and anything else outside of her head.
She didn't want to see their faces anymore. She just wanted to go home.
"S'not my fault. Why din they stop...?" she sobbed.
And then she let herself slip into oblivion.
Gypsy Rap
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selphie_trabia†
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General Goose
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((Harun Kemal continued from Calculations)).
It had been another surprisingly uneventful day for Harun. Frankly, there was still some tension (of the non-sexual kind) between him and Rashid, but all in all, he was probably one of the lucky ones. He had had some relatively peaceful, under-the-radar times on the island, time to think about his life and grow accustomed to the concept of his imminent death being broadcast on national TV. He was with a guy he'd like to consider a friend, he hadn't seen any dead bodies (well, he'd seen or smelled a few in the distance, but always made a u-turn, coming up with a few weak white laws as excuses to justify it to Rashid) and he hadn't starved to death yet.
Truth be told, Harun was getting a bit bored. Maybe it was withdrawal symptoms (his parents did always tell him the time he spent on the computer constituted as an addiction), maybe he was just fed up of walking around with no direction and no clear short-term objectives (he had a rather simple long-term objective; escape with everyone he cared about. The rapidly expanding more cynical part of his personality had already written it off.)
Still, being bored was better than being mentally scarred for life or insane or crippled or dead.
Harun suddenly heard voices that he was obviously getting closer to, and he looked up to try and see if they were within his field of vision. Despite the fact that a vast majority of the trees were chopped down in this neck of the woods, things like hills or plain distance could make it harder to see people. Before he could finish scanning his whole field of vision to see if he could spot anyone, he stumbled on a withered tree branch that had been lying there undisturbed since its home was cut down.
Letting out a small yet quiet yelp as he fell forward, his hands reaching out just in time to prevent his face from landing on the rough ground, he looked up at Rashid, and whispered to him "You go see if you can find them. I think you should be the one to introduce us first this time around."
He didn't have much of an idea on who they were. He hadn't been focusing on what they were saying, but he swore he'd heard the word "penis" and its synonyms thrown around a lot.
It had been another surprisingly uneventful day for Harun. Frankly, there was still some tension (of the non-sexual kind) between him and Rashid, but all in all, he was probably one of the lucky ones. He had had some relatively peaceful, under-the-radar times on the island, time to think about his life and grow accustomed to the concept of his imminent death being broadcast on national TV. He was with a guy he'd like to consider a friend, he hadn't seen any dead bodies (well, he'd seen or smelled a few in the distance, but always made a u-turn, coming up with a few weak white laws as excuses to justify it to Rashid) and he hadn't starved to death yet.
Truth be told, Harun was getting a bit bored. Maybe it was withdrawal symptoms (his parents did always tell him the time he spent on the computer constituted as an addiction), maybe he was just fed up of walking around with no direction and no clear short-term objectives (he had a rather simple long-term objective; escape with everyone he cared about. The rapidly expanding more cynical part of his personality had already written it off.)
Still, being bored was better than being mentally scarred for life or insane or crippled or dead.
Harun suddenly heard voices that he was obviously getting closer to, and he looked up to try and see if they were within his field of vision. Despite the fact that a vast majority of the trees were chopped down in this neck of the woods, things like hills or plain distance could make it harder to see people. Before he could finish scanning his whole field of vision to see if he could spot anyone, he stumbled on a withered tree branch that had been lying there undisturbed since its home was cut down.
Letting out a small yet quiet yelp as he fell forward, his hands reaching out just in time to prevent his face from landing on the rough ground, he looked up at Rashid, and whispered to him "You go see if you can find them. I think you should be the one to introduce us first this time around."
He didn't have much of an idea on who they were. He hadn't been focusing on what they were saying, but he swore he'd heard the word "penis" and its synonyms thrown around a lot.
It had to be funny by any count that the time he was spending with Erik now was almost 10 times more romantic than almost anything they'd gotten up to at Bayview. Who needed a trip to the theatres when you could just sit there by a crackling fire (granted, in the middle of nowhere, but it was still a crackling fire) with the person who made everything better just by being there?
Well, the romance kind of slipped down a few notches after everyone started to discuss penises. And a few more once Stacy started to discuss killing someone with one.
Brendan joined in the little discussion by rummaging around in his assigned bag. The gun was kept at the bottom, since he would only be sure he could use it when the situation got dire, and there was no need to scare Sarah. Instead, he found the box he was still carrying around as a reminder of how lucky he was that he found something better.
"Oh, while we're on that subject," Brendan commented with an air of sarcasm about him, and with that he pulled out the assigned blow-up doll he was given "Try imagine killing someone with this."
Bam, he dropped it above his head, right in Erik's lap, still smiling up at the tall track runner.
"According to the little bit of paper that came with it, it's a blow-up doll. I dunno what they expect me to do with it, really. Dustin Royal could probably use it, if I ran into him," Brendan said, before starting to let loose a laugh. It was making him feel that little bit better, being able to joke about stuff that was so grim, so dark in subject.
Of course, the little scene seemed to take a turn for the worse when Sarah mumbled something, then passed out on the grass beneath them.
There was a deafening silence, as they all sat there, watching the small girl stop moving. And then....Brendan of all people broke the silence.
"Umm...okay, I..uh...Stacy, could you, uh....could you check if she's...okay, or asleep and not dead or anything? I...uh...I'll just bandage up my leg, and..." Brendan stammered, really not sure how to properly react to the situation. Fumbling through his bag, he found his assigned first aid kit and took out the large bandage and the pair of small medical scissors. Not wasting any time, he scooted himself and his half-bandaged leg closer to Erik, and trailed his hands along the dirt covering the white medical material until he found where it stopped. There wasn't much non-contaminated bandage, so he'd have to waste a lot of it. He snipped it off quickly, stuffed the unusable stuff in his abnormally large pockets, and started to tightly wrap up the rest of his leg which hadn't been touched.
After a bit, he started to think about some things, all the while winding up his bandage around his leg.
Over.
Under.
Over two days ago, he was simply a follower of the people he'd spent all his time at Bayview with. When the girl on the beach was shot, he didn't know what to do. Fight and flight reflexively chose to fly, and...now, it was almost an exact mirror of the situation, only someone as heroic and as good of a leader as Xu wasn't there. He was the person who'd led these girls throughout the island for almost a day now, and all he'd done was scrounge a bit of clothing and start a fire. What then? He knew that even with Erik showing up, he'd never be the person with all the answers.
Under.
Over.
He'd just be another poor soul, wandering around the island until someone with an itchy finger and a hankering to see their parents again wanted to end his life.
Over.
Under.
He'd never be free.
Under.
Over.
He'd never see his friends on the right terms again.
Over.
Under.
And worst of all...What would happen to Chase?...
Okay, seriously, what the FUCK is wrong with me? WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING ON ABOUT? JESUS CHRIST, DO I NEED TO THINK THIS MUCH? I'M NOT GOING TO DIE LIKE THAT! I'LL FIND MY FRIENDS AGAIN, I'LL FIND SOMEONE SMART WHO KNOWS WHAT TO DO, AND I'LL...I just need to sleep, that's all I need to do. This isn't helping me one bit. I...I'll get Stacy to take watch, and I'll...need to stop thinking so much, the blood loss isn't helping my head one bit.
Under.
The bandage was at it's end, and his leg was now gripped tightly by the white fabric, like a snake about to eat its meal. He slivered the end of the bandage into the rolls behind it, and smiled briefly at his work.
Resting his head on his knee, brought into his chest like he was hiding in a box like an amputee, Brendan reached his right hand around, still tattered with a smear of blood from either Day 1 or only yesterday, and clasped the giant track runner's own hand tightly.
No matter what happened so far, he knew he would always have Erik.
Well, the romance kind of slipped down a few notches after everyone started to discuss penises. And a few more once Stacy started to discuss killing someone with one.
Brendan joined in the little discussion by rummaging around in his assigned bag. The gun was kept at the bottom, since he would only be sure he could use it when the situation got dire, and there was no need to scare Sarah. Instead, he found the box he was still carrying around as a reminder of how lucky he was that he found something better.
"Oh, while we're on that subject," Brendan commented with an air of sarcasm about him, and with that he pulled out the assigned blow-up doll he was given "Try imagine killing someone with this."
Bam, he dropped it above his head, right in Erik's lap, still smiling up at the tall track runner.
"According to the little bit of paper that came with it, it's a blow-up doll. I dunno what they expect me to do with it, really. Dustin Royal could probably use it, if I ran into him," Brendan said, before starting to let loose a laugh. It was making him feel that little bit better, being able to joke about stuff that was so grim, so dark in subject.
Of course, the little scene seemed to take a turn for the worse when Sarah mumbled something, then passed out on the grass beneath them.
There was a deafening silence, as they all sat there, watching the small girl stop moving. And then....Brendan of all people broke the silence.
"Umm...okay, I..uh...Stacy, could you, uh....could you check if she's...okay, or asleep and not dead or anything? I...uh...I'll just bandage up my leg, and..." Brendan stammered, really not sure how to properly react to the situation. Fumbling through his bag, he found his assigned first aid kit and took out the large bandage and the pair of small medical scissors. Not wasting any time, he scooted himself and his half-bandaged leg closer to Erik, and trailed his hands along the dirt covering the white medical material until he found where it stopped. There wasn't much non-contaminated bandage, so he'd have to waste a lot of it. He snipped it off quickly, stuffed the unusable stuff in his abnormally large pockets, and started to tightly wrap up the rest of his leg which hadn't been touched.
After a bit, he started to think about some things, all the while winding up his bandage around his leg.
Over.
Under.
Over two days ago, he was simply a follower of the people he'd spent all his time at Bayview with. When the girl on the beach was shot, he didn't know what to do. Fight and flight reflexively chose to fly, and...now, it was almost an exact mirror of the situation, only someone as heroic and as good of a leader as Xu wasn't there. He was the person who'd led these girls throughout the island for almost a day now, and all he'd done was scrounge a bit of clothing and start a fire. What then? He knew that even with Erik showing up, he'd never be the person with all the answers.
Under.
Over.
He'd just be another poor soul, wandering around the island until someone with an itchy finger and a hankering to see their parents again wanted to end his life.
Over.
Under.
He'd never be free.
Under.
Over.
He'd never see his friends on the right terms again.
Over.
Under.
And worst of all...What would happen to Chase?...
Okay, seriously, what the FUCK is wrong with me? WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING ON ABOUT? JESUS CHRIST, DO I NEED TO THINK THIS MUCH? I'M NOT GOING TO DIE LIKE THAT! I'LL FIND MY FRIENDS AGAIN, I'LL FIND SOMEONE SMART WHO KNOWS WHAT TO DO, AND I'LL...I just need to sleep, that's all I need to do. This isn't helping me one bit. I...I'll get Stacy to take watch, and I'll...need to stop thinking so much, the blood loss isn't helping my head one bit.
Under.
The bandage was at it's end, and his leg was now gripped tightly by the white fabric, like a snake about to eat its meal. He slivered the end of the bandage into the rolls behind it, and smiled briefly at his work.
Resting his head on his knee, brought into his chest like he was hiding in a box like an amputee, Brendan reached his right hand around, still tattered with a smear of blood from either Day 1 or only yesterday, and clasped the giant track runner's own hand tightly.
No matter what happened so far, he knew he would always have Erik.
((Rashid Hassan continued from Calculations))
If deja vu could be applied across an entire day rather than a single defining moment, then Rashid would have felt it quite a bit as he made his way through an expanse of tree stumps with his traveling companion. They still hadn't gotten into anything quite so tense as the mansion with other people, and they certainly hadn't gotten into anything quite so tense (violently or...otherwise) with each other as they did not 24 hours ago. Like Harun, Rashid had found time to eat, pray, sleep. About the only thing different apart from an appearance that had gotten respectively grittier as island life began to take its toll was his thought patterns.
He still believed that Harun knew he was useless, and he practically nodded to agree when his companion went on and on with his bullshit about how Rashid supposedly wasn't. But deception tactics were all part of this game. People were going to lie to each other in order to get the other guy to do all kinds of shit, the foremost kind of shit being turning their back at that moment when the first guy decided that he was going to play. Moreover, the preceding 24 hours to "think" allowed it to settle in from his earlier raging state. It ate away at him, to be sure, but at least it wasn't nearly as painful.
In any case, such an moment actually did not occur to pass his mind when Harun suddenly tripped forward whilst the two found themselves drawn to conversation between people that were actually alive. The repeated mention of genitalia certainly piqued his attention, though even he couldn't tell if it was supposed to humor him or anger him at that point.
"Shit, you okay!?" he said, trying to keep his voice down despite really sounding concerned. No way he was going to let his 'best friend' die. Not accidentally.
"You go see if you can find them. I think you should be the one to introduce us first this time around."
Suddenly, it seemed, his uselessness actually had a use in itself. It didn't change the fact that he still didn't have a weapon. But it wasn't as if people were getting viciously murdered over there, which meant the chances that Rashid would suffer that fate upon sighting them where Harun was interrupted and then greeting them was slimmer than if they were being viciously murdered. Only just. But hell, he'd already come to terms with his mortality. How hard could it be?
The conversation had started to die down, and from the looks of things, probably whatever fight had been going on before he arrived. There were two guys, and two girls, but he couldn't make out their faces at this light.
"'Scuse me?" he called out, briefly waving his arms above his head. He would have started his more usual busting-in greeting, but four possibly armed-to-the-teeth opponents definitely wouldn't take as likely to his greeting than they would have done during the meetings of the Insane Commie Posse. "You guys having fun over there?"
Not once did it cross his mind that he had probably given Harun that moment he was waiting for himself.
If deja vu could be applied across an entire day rather than a single defining moment, then Rashid would have felt it quite a bit as he made his way through an expanse of tree stumps with his traveling companion. They still hadn't gotten into anything quite so tense as the mansion with other people, and they certainly hadn't gotten into anything quite so tense (violently or...otherwise) with each other as they did not 24 hours ago. Like Harun, Rashid had found time to eat, pray, sleep. About the only thing different apart from an appearance that had gotten respectively grittier as island life began to take its toll was his thought patterns.
He still believed that Harun knew he was useless, and he practically nodded to agree when his companion went on and on with his bullshit about how Rashid supposedly wasn't. But deception tactics were all part of this game. People were going to lie to each other in order to get the other guy to do all kinds of shit, the foremost kind of shit being turning their back at that moment when the first guy decided that he was going to play. Moreover, the preceding 24 hours to "think" allowed it to settle in from his earlier raging state. It ate away at him, to be sure, but at least it wasn't nearly as painful.
In any case, such an moment actually did not occur to pass his mind when Harun suddenly tripped forward whilst the two found themselves drawn to conversation between people that were actually alive. The repeated mention of genitalia certainly piqued his attention, though even he couldn't tell if it was supposed to humor him or anger him at that point.
"Shit, you okay!?" he said, trying to keep his voice down despite really sounding concerned. No way he was going to let his 'best friend' die. Not accidentally.
"You go see if you can find them. I think you should be the one to introduce us first this time around."
Suddenly, it seemed, his uselessness actually had a use in itself. It didn't change the fact that he still didn't have a weapon. But it wasn't as if people were getting viciously murdered over there, which meant the chances that Rashid would suffer that fate upon sighting them where Harun was interrupted and then greeting them was slimmer than if they were being viciously murdered. Only just. But hell, he'd already come to terms with his mortality. How hard could it be?
The conversation had started to die down, and from the looks of things, probably whatever fight had been going on before he arrived. There were two guys, and two girls, but he couldn't make out their faces at this light.
"'Scuse me?" he called out, briefly waving his arms above his head. He would have started his more usual busting-in greeting, but four possibly armed-to-the-teeth opponents definitely wouldn't take as likely to his greeting than they would have done during the meetings of the Insane Commie Posse. "You guys having fun over there?"
Not once did it cross his mind that he had probably given Harun that moment he was waiting for himself.
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Stacy stroked the girl's cheek gently and just held her. She turned her head toward the boy and smiled a little.
"I guess all the excitement wore her out."
She chuckled as they talked about blowup dolls. A doll could still be useful to them though. She continued petting the girl gently and shrugged.
"If the doll is life sized and at all human looking, we might be able to use it as a decoy. I imagine at a distance it might look like one of us and distract somebody for a moment or two. Especially if they've gone a little mad."
Stacy thought a bit more and glanced over at Brendan. "Maybe we should try to rest. I can take first watch if you like..."
She looked down at Sarah and smiled before leaning down to kiss her temple. "When this one wakes up I might have to let her borrow a pair of my jeans. They should be a bit more comfortable than what she's got right now."
It was about that time when they were interrupted by another boy. This one she recognized. They weren't exactly friends, but everybody knew him. He was kind of hard to miss, being one of the few Arabs in their class. She had mixed feelings about him. He wore some crazy things now and then, and kinda freaked people out. He also had a temper. She had never had a problem with him personally, but he did make her feel a little nervous, which was not good. At all.
"Uhm, hi. We're getting ready to turn in for the night I think. I don't know if that's fun or not."
She ran her fingers through Sarah's hair and took a deep breath. Something about the way he approached them turned her off. She couldn't quite shake the feeling, and despite mentally berating herself for it, reason won her mind over.
Better racist than dead Stace.
"I guess all the excitement wore her out."
She chuckled as they talked about blowup dolls. A doll could still be useful to them though. She continued petting the girl gently and shrugged.
"If the doll is life sized and at all human looking, we might be able to use it as a decoy. I imagine at a distance it might look like one of us and distract somebody for a moment or two. Especially if they've gone a little mad."
Stacy thought a bit more and glanced over at Brendan. "Maybe we should try to rest. I can take first watch if you like..."
She looked down at Sarah and smiled before leaning down to kiss her temple. "When this one wakes up I might have to let her borrow a pair of my jeans. They should be a bit more comfortable than what she's got right now."
It was about that time when they were interrupted by another boy. This one she recognized. They weren't exactly friends, but everybody knew him. He was kind of hard to miss, being one of the few Arabs in their class. She had mixed feelings about him. He wore some crazy things now and then, and kinda freaked people out. He also had a temper. She had never had a problem with him personally, but he did make her feel a little nervous, which was not good. At all.
"Uhm, hi. We're getting ready to turn in for the night I think. I don't know if that's fun or not."
She ran her fingers through Sarah's hair and took a deep breath. Something about the way he approached them turned her off. She couldn't quite shake the feeling, and despite mentally berating herself for it, reason won her mind over.
Better racist than dead Stace.
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General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
As Rashid did all the formalities and got the attention of the group nearby, Harun began to climb back up to his feet, dusting the dirt and various insects off his jeans as he did. Straightening himself back up, he tried to get a better look at the group Rashid was calling to. Now, he was pretty tall anyway (though about average for Bayview's gigantic senior male population), but he wanted to get a clearer view, so tip-toed on top of a shrivelled old tree root to get a slightly higher view.
First things first: his suspicions were confirmed when he instantly noticed they weren't killing each other. Sure, they didn't exactly look happy or well-groomed, but by now, no-one on the island was. In fact, they looked relatively friendly and informal with each other.
In a couple of seconds, Harun scanned the members of the group. Two girls were there; a small Asian girl, Sarah Tan, one of three Sarahs he knew and the one he knew the least (Sarah Xu ran the activist club he remembered so fondly and Sarah Atwell...well, he didn't exactly know her well, but apparently she had gone batshit insane so Harun wasn't ashamed to admit he'd kinda be scared shitless if he saw her) and a slightly larger but still quite small girl called Stacy Hart (who Harun didn't really know quite well, aside from the glaringly obvious facts that she was a punk and she was pretty energetic.)
And then Harun noticed who the two boys were.
Erik Laurence/Lauren/whatever (another person Harun knew, but not THAT well, he mainly knew him through Brendan) and Brendan Wallace.
Aside from Rashid, Brendan could be said to be the first person Harun had encountered on the island that he considered a friend. Not a best friend, but what the hell.
And, while normally Harun's greetings for his friends were quiet and fairly formal, Harun was understandably pretty damn pleased to see a friend of his alive and sane and (relatively) healthy on the island. So, he enthusiastically shouted out "HEY BRENDAN!"
Well, it was more of a "Hey Brenda-!" before he was cut off when he slipped off his tree root and landed clumsily on his back.
"...Fuck."
First things first: his suspicions were confirmed when he instantly noticed they weren't killing each other. Sure, they didn't exactly look happy or well-groomed, but by now, no-one on the island was. In fact, they looked relatively friendly and informal with each other.
In a couple of seconds, Harun scanned the members of the group. Two girls were there; a small Asian girl, Sarah Tan, one of three Sarahs he knew and the one he knew the least (Sarah Xu ran the activist club he remembered so fondly and Sarah Atwell...well, he didn't exactly know her well, but apparently she had gone batshit insane so Harun wasn't ashamed to admit he'd kinda be scared shitless if he saw her) and a slightly larger but still quite small girl called Stacy Hart (who Harun didn't really know quite well, aside from the glaringly obvious facts that she was a punk and she was pretty energetic.)
And then Harun noticed who the two boys were.
Erik Laurence/Lauren/whatever (another person Harun knew, but not THAT well, he mainly knew him through Brendan) and Brendan Wallace.
Aside from Rashid, Brendan could be said to be the first person Harun had encountered on the island that he considered a friend. Not a best friend, but what the hell.
And, while normally Harun's greetings for his friends were quiet and fairly formal, Harun was understandably pretty damn pleased to see a friend of his alive and sane and (relatively) healthy on the island. So, he enthusiastically shouted out "HEY BRENDAN!"
Well, it was more of a "Hey Brenda-!" before he was cut off when he slipped off his tree root and landed clumsily on his back.
"...Fuck."
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selphie_trabia†
- Posts: 197
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:51 am
((Feel free to skip me, as Sarah will remain passed out. Posting to avoid inactivity.))
Rashid's outburst was loud enough to make Sarah stir in her sleep. The tiny girl half-opened her eyes.
"Nuh. Mh." she said, eloquently.
She sniffed at Stacy's body a little, then cuddled up to the bigger girl and continued to sleep, trying not to be plagued by the nightmares that made her want to cry.
Rashid's outburst was loud enough to make Sarah stir in her sleep. The tiny girl half-opened her eyes.
"Nuh. Mh." she said, eloquently.
She sniffed at Stacy's body a little, then cuddled up to the bigger girl and continued to sleep, trying not to be plagued by the nightmares that made her want to cry.
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The power of a voice was substantial, really. With a single breath someone could change the entirity and going-ons of a scene forever. Whether it be with words or with the actions that came of those words, it's impossible to deny how powerful the human voice is, both on the mind and on any situation.
Really, Brendan Wallace could not have welcomed the changes that occured just then even more than he did now.
As he sat there, squeezing Erik's hand as he made sure that his bandage was on right and tight, he heard that voice echo through his ears and it was like he'd been taken back to Bayview once again.
"So...who'd you guys take to the prom?"
"Uh...you wanna go first?"
"Uhh, well...I went with Reiko.
"*smirk* Was it fun?"
"*blush* Uhh, yeah? I guess? Well, i mean, yes. Well, the prom not so much.. but anyway! Brendan?"
"Uh...yeah, I...went with...Erik Laurin."
...*blush*
"Good times?"
"Uh...yeah, good times, yeah."
*bzz bzz*
"I suspect if you keep checking that, you'll be selling us out to the government."
"Huh? Oh, hehe, yeah.
Umm, okay, so is everything sorted? I umm, I, I should probably get going."
"*GLAAAARE* Yes, you should get going, SHOULDN'T YOU."
"Bye!"
"Bye!
...so."
"Uh...my class is about to start so...uh...I'd better get going."
"Oh...but lunch started about 10 minutes ago..."
"Yeah! Uh...lunch. Bye..."
"...
"
The same voice. That voice, the one he'd barely gotten to know over the past year that he'd known the guy, and it was the voice that couldn't have been a more blessed, more welcome voice to him right there.
Rashid.
Sarah ???
Roland ???
Dutchy ???
Madelyn.
Harun.
Rasshid. <------ FUCKING A!
Vera.
Erik.
Chase.
Dawne.
Nik.
Jamie.
It was like he was back at the beach all over again, a reunion. He didn't know this guy as well as he should have, hell, everyone on his little mental (soon to become real) list were people he never would know. That still didn't change the fact that these were the people who were his rocks, his little weights that kept him pinned down to the here and now, and even if it was finding a foreign, hockey-playing guitarist who only gave him a thanks after adjusting his sound properly compared to his best friend in the whole wide world, then they all lay on the same plane there.
People he loved.
"Holy...holy crap Rash?" Brendan yelled out from behind the two people blocking him off, Erik and Stacy. Momentarily slipping his fingertips away from Erik's he used his non-harmed foot to get up off the ground, and grabbed his impromptu walking-stick. Making his way as fast as he could to the two people, he smiled widely.
"Stacy, don't worry, he's cool, he's so fucking cool right now! Rash!" Brendan started, before throwing any sense of personal space in his own moment of relief spun together in a mixer with euphoria and giving him a hug. He almost had to stop him from accidentally whacking Rash out with his walking stick when he forgot to put it down. Still half-laughing, half sighing, he let go, and was still putting on the biggest grin as he stood there, still trying to make out words to the now probably very violated Muslim friend of his.
"H-hey! I...I'm so glad to see you Rash, I...look, we're all okay, everyone in the Commie club is okay! I was with Sarah Dutchy and Roland a few days ago, and no one's been on the announcements or anything! I..." Brendan started, before hearing some noise behind Rash. A noise that was cut off, but still a very VERY recognisable voice and noise.
Whatever prayer Rash made to Allah, he needed to make it extra strong, cause frankly he seemed to be the bearer of some extra good news at this flashing moment in time.
"Harun? Is that Harun Rash?" Brendan asked, before yelling fowards into the night again "Hey! Harun, yeah, it's me Brendan! We're okay, no one here's playing or anything!"
Still trying to keep an optimistic look on his face, despite the fact that he realized the sun was rising in the sky to his...whichever, and that Danya was about to speak again. No, happy moments needed to stay for good, at least until he got to confirm that these two people were okay.
"You don't have anyone else back there do you? Not Maddy or Vera or someon-"
Of course, this facade, even though it was only a momentary facade but a facade nonetheless, was shattered the very moment the speakers schreeched to life.
The voice, that sickening voice penetrated the momentary break in the war amongst themselves to deliver the reaper's news again.
Again.
For the 3rd fucking time, he had to listen to everyone he knew or didn't know be listed off like a grocery list. Every name stuck to his brain like pollen to a sticky web, but...but out of every single one, two of them stood out for very different reasons.
Vera.
Nik.
Dead. Gone.
Killer. Gone...gone?
As the announcements came to their close, and their current location was spared the indignity of having to run away like circus mice, Brendan stood there.
He....
......
......
........
........
.........
.........
..........
..........
...........
................................................................................................................................................................
Really, Brendan Wallace could not have welcomed the changes that occured just then even more than he did now.
As he sat there, squeezing Erik's hand as he made sure that his bandage was on right and tight, he heard that voice echo through his ears and it was like he'd been taken back to Bayview once again.
"So...who'd you guys take to the prom?"
"Uh...you wanna go first?"
"Uhh, well...I went with Reiko.
"*smirk* Was it fun?"
"*blush* Uhh, yeah? I guess? Well, i mean, yes. Well, the prom not so much.. but anyway! Brendan?"
"Uh...yeah, I...went with...Erik Laurin."
...*blush*
"Good times?"
"Uh...yeah, good times, yeah."
*bzz bzz*
"I suspect if you keep checking that, you'll be selling us out to the government."
"Huh? Oh, hehe, yeah.
Umm, okay, so is everything sorted? I umm, I, I should probably get going."
"*GLAAAARE* Yes, you should get going, SHOULDN'T YOU."
"Bye!"
"Bye!
...so."
"Uh...my class is about to start so...uh...I'd better get going."
"Oh...but lunch started about 10 minutes ago..."
"Yeah! Uh...lunch. Bye..."
"...
"The same voice. That voice, the one he'd barely gotten to know over the past year that he'd known the guy, and it was the voice that couldn't have been a more blessed, more welcome voice to him right there.
Rashid.
Sarah ???
Roland ???
Dutchy ???
Madelyn.
Harun.
Rasshid. <------ FUCKING A!
Vera.
Erik.
Chase.
Dawne.
Nik.
Jamie.
It was like he was back at the beach all over again, a reunion. He didn't know this guy as well as he should have, hell, everyone on his little mental (soon to become real) list were people he never would know. That still didn't change the fact that these were the people who were his rocks, his little weights that kept him pinned down to the here and now, and even if it was finding a foreign, hockey-playing guitarist who only gave him a thanks after adjusting his sound properly compared to his best friend in the whole wide world, then they all lay on the same plane there.
People he loved.
"Holy...holy crap Rash?" Brendan yelled out from behind the two people blocking him off, Erik and Stacy. Momentarily slipping his fingertips away from Erik's he used his non-harmed foot to get up off the ground, and grabbed his impromptu walking-stick. Making his way as fast as he could to the two people, he smiled widely.
"Stacy, don't worry, he's cool, he's so fucking cool right now! Rash!" Brendan started, before throwing any sense of personal space in his own moment of relief spun together in a mixer with euphoria and giving him a hug. He almost had to stop him from accidentally whacking Rash out with his walking stick when he forgot to put it down. Still half-laughing, half sighing, he let go, and was still putting on the biggest grin as he stood there, still trying to make out words to the now probably very violated Muslim friend of his.
"H-hey! I...I'm so glad to see you Rash, I...look, we're all okay, everyone in the Commie club is okay! I was with Sarah Dutchy and Roland a few days ago, and no one's been on the announcements or anything! I..." Brendan started, before hearing some noise behind Rash. A noise that was cut off, but still a very VERY recognisable voice and noise.
Whatever prayer Rash made to Allah, he needed to make it extra strong, cause frankly he seemed to be the bearer of some extra good news at this flashing moment in time.
"Harun? Is that Harun Rash?" Brendan asked, before yelling fowards into the night again "Hey! Harun, yeah, it's me Brendan! We're okay, no one here's playing or anything!"
Still trying to keep an optimistic look on his face, despite the fact that he realized the sun was rising in the sky to his...whichever, and that Danya was about to speak again. No, happy moments needed to stay for good, at least until he got to confirm that these two people were okay.
"You don't have anyone else back there do you? Not Maddy or Vera or someon-"
Of course, this facade, even though it was only a momentary facade but a facade nonetheless, was shattered the very moment the speakers schreeched to life.
The voice, that sickening voice penetrated the momentary break in the war amongst themselves to deliver the reaper's news again.
Again.
For the 3rd fucking time, he had to listen to everyone he knew or didn't know be listed off like a grocery list. Every name stuck to his brain like pollen to a sticky web, but...but out of every single one, two of them stood out for very different reasons.
Vera.
Nik.
Dead. Gone.
Killer. Gone...gone?
As the announcements came to their close, and their current location was spared the indignity of having to run away like circus mice, Brendan stood there.
He....
......
......
........
........
.........
.........
..........
..........
...........
................................................................................................................................................................
((Yeah, mine's not that good.))
"Uhm, hi. We're getting ready to turn in for the night I think. I don't know if that's fun or not."
"Stacy, don't worry, he's cool, he's so fucking cool right now! Rash!"
Speak of the devil.
Even on the island, there were no shortage of coincidences. Like having the greeting returned by a member of the same Insane Commie Posse he was thinking about right before he up and extended salutations a group of possibly well-armed students from the top of a hill where anyone with a firearm (specifically, a certain someone behind him at that moment) could pick him off if they aimed right.
"H-hey! I...I'm so glad to see you Rash, I...look, we're all okay, everyone in the Commie club is okay! I was with Sarah Dutchy and Roland a few days ago, and no one's been on the announcements or anything! I..."
The first thing Rash did in reaction, of course, was reach for his bag despite knowing full well that there was only a bottle of pills inside to "defend" himself with. As if whatever was in the first aid kit was really any better against two people that had every opportunity to put him in the middle of a fatal threesome right then and there. At least there was room to bolt to either side of him.
"Hey Brenda-! Fuck...
"Harun? Is that Harun Rash?"
"Yeah, he is," he said, throwing a smirk at his repeatedly-fallen friend. Not that Harun would notice that smirk from the way his face was shadowed out. And yet even in broad daylight, it would have not betrayed something else he felt then. There was something particularly...satisfying...about seeing his friend falling like that. Maybe it wasn't vengeance, but...vulnerability. Not that it stopped him from his current if not somewhat temporary obligation to help him back up.
Yet as Rashid went over to help Harun, it seemed like someone else shared his feeling. Just not from where they were, right now.
"You don't have anyone else back there do you? Not Maddy or Vera or someon-"
And then, the announcement. The voice of Danya every (12) hour(s), on the hour, announcing who had died, but more importantly those people that accepted the one fact of life and death on this island itself. Namely, those that decided to play. If someone as apathetic about everything as Cisco Vasquez could accept that, then it wouldn't exactly be a challenge for others to do so. Friendship be damned, the real challenge was how to translate that acceptance into action.
As Rashid tried to help his inevitable betrayer up, he noticed Brendan, stunned stiff from the announcement. Whatever faint sense of satisfaction he felt now was probably solidified just that bit more to know that - at least from the faint silhouette of his figure - he seemed vulnerable as well.
"Uhm, hi. We're getting ready to turn in for the night I think. I don't know if that's fun or not."
"Stacy, don't worry, he's cool, he's so fucking cool right now! Rash!"
Speak of the devil.
Even on the island, there were no shortage of coincidences. Like having the greeting returned by a member of the same Insane Commie Posse he was thinking about right before he up and extended salutations a group of possibly well-armed students from the top of a hill where anyone with a firearm (specifically, a certain someone behind him at that moment) could pick him off if they aimed right.
"H-hey! I...I'm so glad to see you Rash, I...look, we're all okay, everyone in the Commie club is okay! I was with Sarah Dutchy and Roland a few days ago, and no one's been on the announcements or anything! I..."
The first thing Rash did in reaction, of course, was reach for his bag despite knowing full well that there was only a bottle of pills inside to "defend" himself with. As if whatever was in the first aid kit was really any better against two people that had every opportunity to put him in the middle of a fatal threesome right then and there. At least there was room to bolt to either side of him.
"Hey Brenda-! Fuck...
"Harun? Is that Harun Rash?"
"Yeah, he is," he said, throwing a smirk at his repeatedly-fallen friend. Not that Harun would notice that smirk from the way his face was shadowed out. And yet even in broad daylight, it would have not betrayed something else he felt then. There was something particularly...satisfying...about seeing his friend falling like that. Maybe it wasn't vengeance, but...vulnerability. Not that it stopped him from his current if not somewhat temporary obligation to help him back up.
Yet as Rashid went over to help Harun, it seemed like someone else shared his feeling. Just not from where they were, right now.
"You don't have anyone else back there do you? Not Maddy or Vera or someon-"
And then, the announcement. The voice of Danya every (12) hour(s), on the hour, announcing who had died, but more importantly those people that accepted the one fact of life and death on this island itself. Namely, those that decided to play. If someone as apathetic about everything as Cisco Vasquez could accept that, then it wouldn't exactly be a challenge for others to do so. Friendship be damned, the real challenge was how to translate that acceptance into action.
As Rashid tried to help his inevitable betrayer up, he noticed Brendan, stunned stiff from the announcement. Whatever faint sense of satisfaction he felt now was probably solidified just that bit more to know that - at least from the faint silhouette of his figure - he seemed vulnerable as well.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
Things were finally looking up.
He'd found yet another of his friends. Even if they were all going to die, having people he could trust and talk to be with him in his final days was a comfort.
A small comfort, admittedly, but it would be enough to keep him going. Enough to keep his spirits up. Enough to keep that idealistic flame of optimism burning away. Enough to keep him from finally snapping and losing his last links to mental sanity. At least for a little while longer.
As Harun climbed back to his feet to get a look at Brendan and his newfound allies, using the nearest tree stump for support, he had a genuine smile on his face. It was a small one, but it was the first one he'd had in quite a while.
And in just a few seconds, it was gone.
The next of Danya's depressing announcements had begun. Harun had almost forgotten about them in his temporary happiness, and at first his reaction was shock. He was not expecting one for a while. And this one hurt.
Admittedly, Vera wasn't his best friend. But she was still a friend, someone he could talk to, someone he hoped to reunite with on the island, and one of the people he'd have liked to escape with.
Staring solemnly at the ground, Harun had no idea what to say, what to think or what to do.
He'd found yet another of his friends. Even if they were all going to die, having people he could trust and talk to be with him in his final days was a comfort.
A small comfort, admittedly, but it would be enough to keep him going. Enough to keep his spirits up. Enough to keep that idealistic flame of optimism burning away. Enough to keep him from finally snapping and losing his last links to mental sanity. At least for a little while longer.
As Harun climbed back to his feet to get a look at Brendan and his newfound allies, using the nearest tree stump for support, he had a genuine smile on his face. It was a small one, but it was the first one he'd had in quite a while.
And in just a few seconds, it was gone.
The next of Danya's depressing announcements had begun. Harun had almost forgotten about them in his temporary happiness, and at first his reaction was shock. He was not expecting one for a while. And this one hurt.
Admittedly, Vera wasn't his best friend. But she was still a friend, someone he could talk to, someone he hoped to reunite with on the island, and one of the people he'd have liked to escape with.
Staring solemnly at the ground, Harun had no idea what to say, what to think or what to do.
Stacy looked over at the boys while allowing Sarah to cuddle close to her. She smiled a little and ran a hand over the girl's hair.
"Let's try to keep it down a little. Sarah's had a crazy few days and I'd really like to let her rest."
She managed not to laugh at Brendan's assertion that they weren't playing. It was true in a sense. They weren't hunting and killing their classmates down. They still had their wits about them. But everybody was playing.
When you break it down, we're all playing. We've been playing our whole lives. Some of us just have different goals in mind.
Survival was nice. From a purely animal perspective, they were all fighting to survive. But sometimes, there were more important things than base survival.
"Now that I'm thinking of it, we might want to get some rest while we can. Who wants first watch?"
"Let's try to keep it down a little. Sarah's had a crazy few days and I'd really like to let her rest."
She managed not to laugh at Brendan's assertion that they weren't playing. It was true in a sense. They weren't hunting and killing their classmates down. They still had their wits about them. But everybody was playing.
When you break it down, we're all playing. We've been playing our whole lives. Some of us just have different goals in mind.
Survival was nice. From a purely animal perspective, they were all fighting to survive. But sometimes, there were more important things than base survival.
"Now that I'm thinking of it, we might want to get some rest while we can. Who wants first watch?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Zabriel. 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.
No............................................................................................................I................................................................................
.............................................................................................................................................................................Goodbye.......
.................................................................................................................................................................................................
.................................................You..........................................................................................................................................
..................................................................................................Be...........................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................................................Even...................................
.................................................................................................................................................................................................
....Vera......................................................................................................................................................................................
..............................................................Can't............................................................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................Never..................................................................
..............................................................................................................................................................................Said.............
.............................................................................................Dead.............................................................................................
........................................................................................................................................................................................VERA.
It was....no, it was worse than that, way worse. To compare it to a day before, when he found out a sole person, he knew had died, just a person he happened to know and nothing more would be an insult, a fucking insult. As Vera's name echoed throughout his mind once more, Brendan Wallace was still standing there, looking like someone who didn't know whether or not he had the ability to move. It was...Vera was gone?
He felt like a hole had been ripped in his stomach. From what he'd heard at school, Vera had really been the most distant member of the Activist Club, someone he never even really got to bother with in the first place because she seemed so up herself in her artistic lifestyle that someone like him, a loser who only hung around because he wanted to believe that America was not a land of idiots and doormats, would be inconsequential, useless. She came late to the meetings, she appeared at inopportune times, and...the most harrowing thing of all was that those few times she appeared, those opportunities, were all that he really knew of her. And that was the worst of it, he would never know her.
She was one of the first people who spoke to him after prom when he'd well and truly come out. He remembered chatting to her on the dance floor, as he momentarily broke away with Erik. She...was okay with him, with Brendan being the way he was, even though her creep of a date seemed to give him the ugliest looks.
And...now she was gone.
The mental list inside his head was now short three souls.
Three people that he would never speak to again. He would never get to relive that trip to the Anime festival with Dawne and Chase, he would never shake hands with Jonathan again as he introduced himself proper to Brendan, and he would never have a small discussion, even a fleeting and useless one, with Vera ever again.
...there wasn't really much else to say really.
His stomach felt tight, and it took the only sane voice, the one he'd grown to accept over the past 26 or so hours, to snap him back to reality.
Brendan turned around on the spot to face the girl, still concerned about Sarah and her sleeping figure. For a brief second there, Brendan wanted to kill her, just rip her throat out so she could stop with the fucking pointless snippets of dialogue that spewed forth from her lips...he didn't even realize that impulse was there, and then it disappeared.
Stacy did have a point though. Even though it was morning, he Sarah and Stacy had only gotten a few hours of sleep between them, and Brendan did have a habit of being less than himself if he was tired. He didn't know how long Erik had been asleep before finding them, and he wasn't sure if Rashid and Harun had gotten any sleep at all.
So...yes, Stacy was right.
"Uh....um, sure, I...I...I guess," Brendan stuttered weakly, before wetting his lips and trying again to speak "I...I suppose th-that we should, uh....um get some rest, it-it's morning though, but...but I don-don't know if we'll be safe, I..I think we might if-if..."
Brendan's voice extruded so much inner pain. The shock of hearing one of his friends, his somewhat-close friends that he'd known for a while, even though it hadn't been to the same degree as any of his other friends, was now never going to be able to meet them again was something that hurt him way too much to understand.
"Uh, Stacy, I...I-how about, um, you? I could...could I just speak to you for a second?" Brendan managed to make out before his throat started to hurt again. Grabbing his bag, he walked a little bit away from the campsite they had set up, just enough so that the 3 guys couldn't hear him.
The other thing that was brooding on Brendan's conscience was the fact that he still carried a gun around.
He'd been given so much time to think over the last few days that he'd finally decided, as the gun gradually started to weigh him down more and more, that having a gun was something that he could do without. He wasn't a violent person, and he'd shown himself and the world (and more importantly, that purple-haired murderer) that he could do something even though he didn't have a gun or a weapon. He'd saved a life, he'd saved 2 lives come to think of it, and did any of that require a weapon? The only thing that a weapon like his was good for was killing. And no matter how far along the line they got, he would never succumb to the game. Ever. So why did he need a weapon?
He didn't.
But someone who was less against using it could.
He had never gotten to know Stacy over the last year, he'd never even had a conversation with her. She was a wrestler, part of the same crowd that Raymond guy was. That meant she had the ability to commit violence, which was something Brendan, Erik, Harun, and Rashid, even Rashid, lacked. They wouldn't be able to wield that gun effectively. This was why it all came down to her.
"Stacy, I...I don't really know you that well, and...and that's the point of what I'm gonna say next. I...Harun and Rashid over there, they...they aren't violent people. Sarah, she doesn't look violent, Erik isn't violent, and I...I'm not violent either. But...I-I dunno if I'm right or not here, but...but you're on the wrestling team, which means...well, I-I think it means that-I'm just gonna skip to the chase here, Stacy; take this."
Brendan reached into his bag, and, making sure that even in the dawns light, no one could see what he was holding except the eclectic girl in front of him, he pulled it out. Holding it to his chest, he showed Stacy his biggest secret, the one he'd been keeping for the last few days from everyone he knew so far. His gun.
"Tha-That table leg I got you won't help if we're attacked, and...And I dunno if we'll be attacked or not, but I don't wanna risk these guy's lives. I'm...I'm trusting you to stay up and make sure that we're safe. If-If we're lucky, you won't have to use it, and we'll-we'll be safe. If you do...just don't hit them, even if they're that Maxwell Lombardi guy, or a killer or anything. Just...I don't wanna traumatize my friends, and I'm sure you don't wanna traumatize Sarah, they don't need that."
Holding it out in front of him, cylinder extended out so that she couldn't shoot him, not that she would anyway, and he tried a smile. Worthless, so he stopped, giving off a focused and threatening look.
"Stacy...can I trust you?"
Please say yes.
.............................................................................................................................................................................Goodbye.......
.................................................................................................................................................................................................
.................................................You..........................................................................................................................................
..................................................................................................Be...........................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................................................Even...................................
.................................................................................................................................................................................................
....Vera......................................................................................................................................................................................
..............................................................Can't............................................................................................................................
.......................................................................................................................Never..................................................................
..............................................................................................................................................................................Said.............
.............................................................................................Dead.............................................................................................
........................................................................................................................................................................................VERA.
It was....no, it was worse than that, way worse. To compare it to a day before, when he found out a sole person, he knew had died, just a person he happened to know and nothing more would be an insult, a fucking insult. As Vera's name echoed throughout his mind once more, Brendan Wallace was still standing there, looking like someone who didn't know whether or not he had the ability to move. It was...Vera was gone?
He felt like a hole had been ripped in his stomach. From what he'd heard at school, Vera had really been the most distant member of the Activist Club, someone he never even really got to bother with in the first place because she seemed so up herself in her artistic lifestyle that someone like him, a loser who only hung around because he wanted to believe that America was not a land of idiots and doormats, would be inconsequential, useless. She came late to the meetings, she appeared at inopportune times, and...the most harrowing thing of all was that those few times she appeared, those opportunities, were all that he really knew of her. And that was the worst of it, he would never know her.
She was one of the first people who spoke to him after prom when he'd well and truly come out. He remembered chatting to her on the dance floor, as he momentarily broke away with Erik. She...was okay with him, with Brendan being the way he was, even though her creep of a date seemed to give him the ugliest looks.
And...now she was gone.
The mental list inside his head was now short three souls.
Three people that he would never speak to again. He would never get to relive that trip to the Anime festival with Dawne and Chase, he would never shake hands with Jonathan again as he introduced himself proper to Brendan, and he would never have a small discussion, even a fleeting and useless one, with Vera ever again.
...there wasn't really much else to say really.
His stomach felt tight, and it took the only sane voice, the one he'd grown to accept over the past 26 or so hours, to snap him back to reality.
Brendan turned around on the spot to face the girl, still concerned about Sarah and her sleeping figure. For a brief second there, Brendan wanted to kill her, just rip her throat out so she could stop with the fucking pointless snippets of dialogue that spewed forth from her lips...he didn't even realize that impulse was there, and then it disappeared.
Stacy did have a point though. Even though it was morning, he Sarah and Stacy had only gotten a few hours of sleep between them, and Brendan did have a habit of being less than himself if he was tired. He didn't know how long Erik had been asleep before finding them, and he wasn't sure if Rashid and Harun had gotten any sleep at all.
So...yes, Stacy was right.
"Uh....um, sure, I...I...I guess," Brendan stuttered weakly, before wetting his lips and trying again to speak "I...I suppose th-that we should, uh....um get some rest, it-it's morning though, but...but I don-don't know if we'll be safe, I..I think we might if-if..."
Brendan's voice extruded so much inner pain. The shock of hearing one of his friends, his somewhat-close friends that he'd known for a while, even though it hadn't been to the same degree as any of his other friends, was now never going to be able to meet them again was something that hurt him way too much to understand.
"Uh, Stacy, I...I-how about, um, you? I could...could I just speak to you for a second?" Brendan managed to make out before his throat started to hurt again. Grabbing his bag, he walked a little bit away from the campsite they had set up, just enough so that the 3 guys couldn't hear him.
The other thing that was brooding on Brendan's conscience was the fact that he still carried a gun around.
He'd been given so much time to think over the last few days that he'd finally decided, as the gun gradually started to weigh him down more and more, that having a gun was something that he could do without. He wasn't a violent person, and he'd shown himself and the world (and more importantly, that purple-haired murderer) that he could do something even though he didn't have a gun or a weapon. He'd saved a life, he'd saved 2 lives come to think of it, and did any of that require a weapon? The only thing that a weapon like his was good for was killing. And no matter how far along the line they got, he would never succumb to the game. Ever. So why did he need a weapon?
He didn't.
But someone who was less against using it could.
He had never gotten to know Stacy over the last year, he'd never even had a conversation with her. She was a wrestler, part of the same crowd that Raymond guy was. That meant she had the ability to commit violence, which was something Brendan, Erik, Harun, and Rashid, even Rashid, lacked. They wouldn't be able to wield that gun effectively. This was why it all came down to her.
"Stacy, I...I don't really know you that well, and...and that's the point of what I'm gonna say next. I...Harun and Rashid over there, they...they aren't violent people. Sarah, she doesn't look violent, Erik isn't violent, and I...I'm not violent either. But...I-I dunno if I'm right or not here, but...but you're on the wrestling team, which means...well, I-I think it means that-I'm just gonna skip to the chase here, Stacy; take this."
Brendan reached into his bag, and, making sure that even in the dawns light, no one could see what he was holding except the eclectic girl in front of him, he pulled it out. Holding it to his chest, he showed Stacy his biggest secret, the one he'd been keeping for the last few days from everyone he knew so far. His gun.
"Tha-That table leg I got you won't help if we're attacked, and...And I dunno if we'll be attacked or not, but I don't wanna risk these guy's lives. I'm...I'm trusting you to stay up and make sure that we're safe. If-If we're lucky, you won't have to use it, and we'll-we'll be safe. If you do...just don't hit them, even if they're that Maxwell Lombardi guy, or a killer or anything. Just...I don't wanna traumatize my friends, and I'm sure you don't wanna traumatize Sarah, they don't need that."
Holding it out in front of him, cylinder extended out so that she couldn't shoot him, not that she would anyway, and he tried a smile. Worthless, so he stopped, giving off a focused and threatening look.
"Stacy...can I trust you?"
Please say yes.
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ifnotwinter†
- Posts: 295
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:22 am
Erik had remained on the ground while Brendan leapt up to greet the new arrivals, stifling the urge to go with him, to help him walk. In a scenario like this the protective instinct he had kept close to his chest for most of his life wasn't a bad thing, particularly, but he recognized that at the moment there really wasn't much danger. He thought about his therapist, white-haired, probably slightly more immovable than a mountain. You have to learn to let people go, Erik. You create situations where they depend on you. It's not healthy. It contributes to your phobias. A small smile quirked on the edges of his mouth. She probably hadn't ever foreseen a situation like this.
But she had been right. He settled himself into the ground, quietly watching the reunion and absently picking dried blood off his fingers from Brendan's leg. He'd have to take a look at that later. He had no doubt Sarah had done a good job, but passing out soon afterward was never a good sign. Infections were nasty. That was something he could control, at least. It would help.
He was about to get up and move to the boys, intent on saying hi - also, he figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to tell them that he wasn't a threat - when the crackling static of the announcements rolled overhead. Unconsciously, he fixed his eyes on a camera as he listened, and when it finished and all that was left was disgruntled cheeps from the birds overhead he still sat, eyes unfocused.
People were dead.
Again.
Oh.
People he knew. Friends. He'd never had a memory for faces but now, somehow, they came back. Faces without names. Had they died yet? Brown hair, blonde hair, black, red, purple, all colours of the rainbow. Straight, curly, long, short. Smiles. Frowns. The last few announcements he hadn't - hadn't slept through, not exactly, but dozed through, shut himself off from them until all that mattered was where he could and couldn't go without his collar detonating. Now he heard them, and saw the reactions on the faces of all around him.
Brendan.
Brendan, still alive, face frozen in a rictus of shock and confusion. Hurting. Erik wanted to go to him, to make it better somehow, but he couldn't make his body move. Familiar voices taunted him. This is what he'll look like when you leave him, he thought stupidly. This is what he'll look like when you die and all those people you could have helped realize you're never coming back.
Or, this is what you'll look like when he dies. When everyone dies and you're left holding the gun.
He shook himself, hard. Not soon enough. Brendan was saying something about sleep, Erik had obviously missed something. Then he was moving, pulling Stacy away, apparently wanting to talk to her. They were too far away for Erik to hear, but he got up nonetheless, feeling stiff knees crack and groan.
He managed a half-smile at Rashid and Harun, sketched a quick wave but turned back, soon enough, to the core of their little area. It was easy enough to slip his jacket off and ball it up, slide it under Sarah's head, small comfort against the situation but maybe comfort itself.
Shivering occasionally in his thin t-shirt, he crouched over the packs, methodically stowing away the medical supplies and sorting out what was spoiled and unusable from what could still be useful
But she had been right. He settled himself into the ground, quietly watching the reunion and absently picking dried blood off his fingers from Brendan's leg. He'd have to take a look at that later. He had no doubt Sarah had done a good job, but passing out soon afterward was never a good sign. Infections were nasty. That was something he could control, at least. It would help.
He was about to get up and move to the boys, intent on saying hi - also, he figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to tell them that he wasn't a threat - when the crackling static of the announcements rolled overhead. Unconsciously, he fixed his eyes on a camera as he listened, and when it finished and all that was left was disgruntled cheeps from the birds overhead he still sat, eyes unfocused.
People were dead.
Again.
Oh.
People he knew. Friends. He'd never had a memory for faces but now, somehow, they came back. Faces without names. Had they died yet? Brown hair, blonde hair, black, red, purple, all colours of the rainbow. Straight, curly, long, short. Smiles. Frowns. The last few announcements he hadn't - hadn't slept through, not exactly, but dozed through, shut himself off from them until all that mattered was where he could and couldn't go without his collar detonating. Now he heard them, and saw the reactions on the faces of all around him.
Brendan.
Brendan, still alive, face frozen in a rictus of shock and confusion. Hurting. Erik wanted to go to him, to make it better somehow, but he couldn't make his body move. Familiar voices taunted him. This is what he'll look like when you leave him, he thought stupidly. This is what he'll look like when you die and all those people you could have helped realize you're never coming back.
Or, this is what you'll look like when he dies. When everyone dies and you're left holding the gun.
He shook himself, hard. Not soon enough. Brendan was saying something about sleep, Erik had obviously missed something. Then he was moving, pulling Stacy away, apparently wanting to talk to her. They were too far away for Erik to hear, but he got up nonetheless, feeling stiff knees crack and groan.
He managed a half-smile at Rashid and Harun, sketched a quick wave but turned back, soon enough, to the core of their little area. It was easy enough to slip his jacket off and ball it up, slide it under Sarah's head, small comfort against the situation but maybe comfort itself.
Shivering occasionally in his thin t-shirt, he crouched over the packs, methodically stowing away the medical supplies and sorting out what was spoiled and unusable from what could still be useful
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler ifnotwinter. 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.
((Wow, and Rashid is now two days inactive. Thanks bundles for rewarding my patience. 
))
Of all the reactions Rashid could have given to the reading of the dead, a yawn was not exactly the most appropriate. But given the fact that he barely got enough sleep as it was, well, it was almost natural.
Brendan went back over to Stacy, and began to talk with her. Meanwhile, Rashid put a hand over his eyebrows as a visor, to watch the sun rise over the horizon as he wondered exactly what they were talking about from where he stood. Probably about how they'd have him and Harun for breakfast when morning finally finished its slow march over the horizon. But he practically expected it from them. It was just a matter of when, not if. But that didn't stop him from deciding to spend whatever was left of the night with them, if only to ironically delay the 'when.'
And as long as they made it quick and painless while he was sleeping, it wasn't as if he wouldn't go without regret.
Well, maybe if he did get the opportunity to make his final peace with God before that, then he could go quickly and/or painlessly in his sleep without regret. He was probably who-knew-how-many days late on his prayers, exigent circumstances notwithstanding.
"Come on, man..." he said to his dazed and stunned traveling companion, his grogginess masking what felt like a lack of empathy, "Let's get some rest or something." He reached out an arm, inviting Harun to hang onto him in case he fell yet again. Or, given that Rashid's vision was starting to blur, for him to hang onto Harun in case he suddenly came down with narcolepsy. This time there weren't any uncomfortable connotations in this invitation, at least not to Rashid. Besides which, that's what they would have Brendan and what appeared to be Erik in the crowd for.
))Of all the reactions Rashid could have given to the reading of the dead, a yawn was not exactly the most appropriate. But given the fact that he barely got enough sleep as it was, well, it was almost natural.
Brendan went back over to Stacy, and began to talk with her. Meanwhile, Rashid put a hand over his eyebrows as a visor, to watch the sun rise over the horizon as he wondered exactly what they were talking about from where he stood. Probably about how they'd have him and Harun for breakfast when morning finally finished its slow march over the horizon. But he practically expected it from them. It was just a matter of when, not if. But that didn't stop him from deciding to spend whatever was left of the night with them, if only to ironically delay the 'when.'
And as long as they made it quick and painless while he was sleeping, it wasn't as if he wouldn't go without regret.
Well, maybe if he did get the opportunity to make his final peace with God before that, then he could go quickly and/or painlessly in his sleep without regret. He was probably who-knew-how-many days late on his prayers, exigent circumstances notwithstanding.
"Come on, man..." he said to his dazed and stunned traveling companion, his grogginess masking what felt like a lack of empathy, "Let's get some rest or something." He reached out an arm, inviting Harun to hang onto him in case he fell yet again. Or, given that Rashid's vision was starting to blur, for him to hang onto Harun in case he suddenly came down with narcolepsy. This time there weren't any uncomfortable connotations in this invitation, at least not to Rashid. Besides which, that's what they would have Brendan and what appeared to be Erik in the crowd for.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. 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.
She nodded and slowly began to disentangle herself from Sarah. Once she managed to separate herself from the sleeping girl, she followed along and let him talk.
He made a lot of assumptions. Like that being on the wrestling team meant she was violent. But she supposed that worked in her favor. He was holding out something, and it was kind of a big deal. He was giving her the means to defend the group. To kill her classmates. To survive.
She wouldn't shoot him of course. Or his friends if she could avoid it. And she'd do anything in her power to protect Sarah. She accepted the gun with a nod.
"Trust in me. We're not going to get out of this unscarred, and in all likelihood, some of us are going to die here. Possibly all of us. Before this is all done, you're going to see somebody die. I don't like it. I'll avoid killing if I possibly can, but I'll do it if I have to. If it comes down to being one of us or one of our other classmates, I will shoot to kill. So don't be surprised when I do."
She looked at him and touched his cheek lightly. She wanted him to understand that she would try her best, and that she wanted everything to be okay. She let her fingertips linger as she pulled away.
"Do you have extra ammunition, or just what's loaded?"
He made a lot of assumptions. Like that being on the wrestling team meant she was violent. But she supposed that worked in her favor. He was holding out something, and it was kind of a big deal. He was giving her the means to defend the group. To kill her classmates. To survive.
She wouldn't shoot him of course. Or his friends if she could avoid it. And she'd do anything in her power to protect Sarah. She accepted the gun with a nod.
"Trust in me. We're not going to get out of this unscarred, and in all likelihood, some of us are going to die here. Possibly all of us. Before this is all done, you're going to see somebody die. I don't like it. I'll avoid killing if I possibly can, but I'll do it if I have to. If it comes down to being one of us or one of our other classmates, I will shoot to kill. So don't be surprised when I do."
She looked at him and touched his cheek lightly. She wanted him to understand that she would try her best, and that she wanted everything to be okay. She let her fingertips linger as she pulled away.
"Do you have extra ammunition, or just what's loaded?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Zabriel. 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.