Notice: This is an alternate-reality roleplay in which the kids on the island were rescued from the SOTF ACT by the American government. For storyline purposes, assume that any character with an inactive handler remains deceased. The timeline is going to be way off, but it's AU anyway. You may bring your character (even ones that died in SOTF) in at any point in their story (meaning... Hawley Faust could come back as a crazed killer or the person he had become when he died... anytime in between).
All roleplayers are accepted, even if your character has not started on the island yet (just pretend they were) or if you joined after the cap date. Characters who were not on the island might give us some neat insight into the minds of people around these characters.
The whole point of this roleplay is to convey what would have happened if the kids had been rescued. It will show their lives after the SOTF ACT, when they try to go back home, back to school, back to work, etc. It will take place in Barry Coleson High School, and in the town in which BCHS is located (so... somewhere in upstate NY). I thought it'd be a neat idea. I'm sorry if the explanation is not real clear, PM me if you're having problems!
Edit: Kuze made the suggestion that the government dropped all the kids at BCHS when they were rescued, since it was where the majority of them came from. Therefore, if you wanted to RP as a character who didn't go to Barry Coleson, problem solved! As for where they're staying... friend from the island's house, hotel room, apartment, whatever you so choose.
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An Insight into the Mind of a BCHS Student...
After everything, can we really go back to normal? Will it really be the same? I've seen people die... killed people with my own two hands. Will they really look at me the same when I return? They've all seen. They're just as guilty as I. I performed the action, but they looked on and cheered. What will they think now that I've come back home? I'm scared. So many things are uncertain now. The government told us we would not be punished. They said it was not our fault, but I can't help but wonder if it is. Were we really forced into playing that game, or did we choose to do so?
In the end, I have blood on my hands, and so do my classmates. What about the people who didn't go? I wonder if they'll look at us the same. I wonder if they'll hold it against me. I did what I had to do. Maybe everything will be alright in the end. School is never going to be the same after this. I feel like I've committed some sort of undeniable crime and been branded for life. Everyone knows what I did.
I'm just ready to go home. Finally, I can sleep in my own bed. I can see my parents. I can eat a home-cooked meal, and take a nice, hot shower, and not worry about someone killing me at any given moment. I'm finally safe, isn't that what I wanted? I hope my family will forgive me for the things I have done. More importantly...
God in Heaven, please forgive me. I have committed the ultimate sin, and for that, I know I cannot repent. Will I go to Hell? Will I burn for eternity because I chose to fight for my life? The government has forgiven me, and I guess the American people have too, but have I condemned myself to an eternity in flames because of my desire to live? Would God... if there is a God... would he understand something like that? Such a primal instinct...
It isn't important now. Nothing else is important now. The fact is... I'm finally... home.
Barry Coleson - The Aftermath
An AU RP where the BC kids got rescued.
Barry Coleson - The Aftermath
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
The events of yesterday were all so vivid in Ryan's mind, still. The impossible had happened. The U.S. government had finally tracked down the terrorists who were broadcasting SOTF by tracing their broadcasting signal, and somehow, the FBI had managed to hack into the terrorist computers and disable the collars. Then, the troops had stormed the place and saved everyone. Saved everyone... Ryan Ashmore remembered every detail of his homecoming. They had treated his wounds on the transport helicopter, and he had been flown to the local hospital, where he had been checked out and released.
Since then, he could not get a moment of privacy. The fact that the Barry Coleson kids had made it home was nation-wide news. His phone had been ringing off the hook since the moment he stepped through the door, not to mention, his family barely gave him enough oxygen to breath in between smothering him to death with hugs. Ryan, however, was still trying to adjust. Last night had been the best night of his life, in his mind. He had gotten to come home, take a hot shower, his mother had cooked a huge dinner pending his homecoming, and he had gone to sleep in his own bed with a full stomach.
Silently, he wondered how the other students who had been in the program were doing. Ah well, he would certainly find out soon enough. Ryan ran his fingers through the front of his hair once more, gelling it upward. It felt great to be able to style his hair again... to be able to worry about his appearance again. Flashing a smile to the image in the mirror, Ryan slid his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. He hated them once, now he was greatful to be able to wear them. After adjusting his plaid overshirt, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
He had thought he was going to school. Instead, he was practically tackled by his mother. She embraced him tightly, much to his dismay. He had missed her, of course, but seriously now... he was home, he was alright, and that was all that mattered now. She looked up at him, a guilty expression on her face. They had talked for hours the night before, trying to set everything right.
"Ryan... if you don't want to go to school today..." she protested.
Practically trying to shake her off of him, Ryan shook his head. He could not help but grin. He was glad she missed him, glad she did not hate him. School had resumed quickly enough, and Ryan was anxious to see how the others who had been on the island with him were doing. Would they all be there? He imagined some of the kids might still be in the hospital. He had been lucky, he had been in relatively good shape.
"Mom," he pleaded, "If I don't go now, I'm going to miss my bus!"
With that, she released him, but not before kissing him on the cheek. Ryan sighed audibly and jogged out the door, just in time to catch his bus. The bus was taking him back to Barry Coleson High School. For the first time since he had left the island, he would see all those kids again. High school was going to be much different after what everyone had experienced. An anxious feeling spread over him. He was looking forward to the new day. He wondered how much the incident had affected everyone... how much they had changed. He would soon see.
Since then, he could not get a moment of privacy. The fact that the Barry Coleson kids had made it home was nation-wide news. His phone had been ringing off the hook since the moment he stepped through the door, not to mention, his family barely gave him enough oxygen to breath in between smothering him to death with hugs. Ryan, however, was still trying to adjust. Last night had been the best night of his life, in his mind. He had gotten to come home, take a hot shower, his mother had cooked a huge dinner pending his homecoming, and he had gone to sleep in his own bed with a full stomach.
Silently, he wondered how the other students who had been in the program were doing. Ah well, he would certainly find out soon enough. Ryan ran his fingers through the front of his hair once more, gelling it upward. It felt great to be able to style his hair again... to be able to worry about his appearance again. Flashing a smile to the image in the mirror, Ryan slid his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. He hated them once, now he was greatful to be able to wear them. After adjusting his plaid overshirt, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
He had thought he was going to school. Instead, he was practically tackled by his mother. She embraced him tightly, much to his dismay. He had missed her, of course, but seriously now... he was home, he was alright, and that was all that mattered now. She looked up at him, a guilty expression on her face. They had talked for hours the night before, trying to set everything right.
"Ryan... if you don't want to go to school today..." she protested.
Practically trying to shake her off of him, Ryan shook his head. He could not help but grin. He was glad she missed him, glad she did not hate him. School had resumed quickly enough, and Ryan was anxious to see how the others who had been on the island with him were doing. Would they all be there? He imagined some of the kids might still be in the hospital. He had been lucky, he had been in relatively good shape.
"Mom," he pleaded, "If I don't go now, I'm going to miss my bus!"
With that, she released him, but not before kissing him on the cheek. Ryan sighed audibly and jogged out the door, just in time to catch his bus. The bus was taking him back to Barry Coleson High School. For the first time since he had left the island, he would see all those kids again. High school was going to be much different after what everyone had experienced. An anxious feeling spread over him. He was looking forward to the new day. He wondered how much the incident had affected everyone... how much they had changed. He would soon see.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler riserugu. 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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LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
There were times when Madelaine Shirohara had to stop and think, and wonder with all incredulity in her mind...
…Why am I still alive?
For the duration of recent events, Madelaine’s mind seemed to have lost all sense of time…the most she could remember about being rescued from the island were glimpses of people, both strange and familiar. She could vaguely remember being taken away, finding herself in a hospital room. The pure whiteness of the room had temporarily blinded her, that much she remembered.
She also remembered seeing her family…though rather than finding it a source of solace or relief, more than anything, all she found was disillusionment. For rather than greeting her with smiles and open arms…her parents simply stared at her as though she had risen from the grave, a haunted look in their eyes that reflected that almost seemed like fear, or repulsion. Even Miriam wouldn’t come near her anymore. Her eyes, once so cheery and innocent, now held the same shadow as her mother and father.
And there was another event that had burned itself into Madelaine’s mind…one that was more vivid, painful, and frightening than any other memory she held at the moment…
Absently, her fingers traced the bandages that wrapped around her neck, concealing the wound beneath. Along with other bruises, cuts, and marks, this was simply evidence of what had happened to Madelaine during recent events…
Her eyes widened. She shuddered suddenly, and pressed her fingers to her paling face, as though to suppress a horrified scream.
No! I don’t want to remember! Just leave me be.
But the images came back to her as though she was reliving the moment when that person had found her. She nearly didn’t survive it…and it was almost by a miracle that Madelaine had survived it seemed. But though she emerged with her life intact, it came at a terrible price, one that would haunt her every nightmare and waking dream for as long as she lived.
Flashbacks. One of the doctors told her that something like this would happen, but the pre-warning was hardly any comfort to Madelaine. Thanks to what had happened, she was now tainted, cursed…desecrated for life. That part of her, now shattered, would never be the same.
Why did it have to happen…?
And as if the memory of it wasn’t enough, Madelaine had enough sense to know exactly the reason why people she passed, strangers and familiars, avoided her gaze and whispered amongst eachother behind their backs. She knew well enough. No doubt they had seen what had happened to her. Everyone did. Even her family wouldn’t look at her the same way they did so lovingly and kindly before.
They don’t know what it’s like….
Madelaine drew her lips together tightly as she stared over the edge of the roof, hugging herself tightly with thin arms to shield herself against the onslaught of wind that rushed past. Given the condition it was in now, she was no longer wearing her uniform. Rather, it had been exchanged for a dust-rose turtleneck that concealed the bandages about her neck, as the bruises around her collar, wrist, and shoulders. A floral-pattern skirt danced at her ankles, around the moccasins she always wore, though now they were stained with dirt.
Her shoulders were hunched over, head bowed towards the parking lot below, as though she were in pain. Shoulder length hair fell freely, almost wildly across her face, also marked with bruises that weren’t easily concealed. Her brown eyes, once so lively and cheerful, now seemed hard and deadened, devoid of all energy and life that they once held. Along with her tightly drawn, pale lips, and bruises along her cheek, her facial seemed as though they had lost their delicate nature, hardening into severity.
Her mind was now running over all she had experienced during her ordeal….the sight of corpses, the smell of blood, the scent of heated metal… and then there was anger, fear, grief, pain, and despair…there was also comfort and a sense of solace, but it had been only momentary for her.
And to think that all it took for me to finally lose hope was for that to happen….
She winced slightly, struggling to shake the memory off. Instead, she tried to comfort herself with other thoughts…she was home again, with her family. But then again, even Miriam wouldn’t talk to, or even look at her. She still had friends with her…but for some reason Madelaine hadn’t seen any of them in a while…the fact that they were her friends now seemed almost irrelevant while she was alone like this…
Well at least now she didn’t have to fear for her life.
But Madelaine began to wonder, as she stared towards windy cityscape, grey and dreary in the relentless gale.
Perhaps I should have died.
The tides of her heart continued to churn, forboding the rise of a violent storm.
…Why am I still alive?
For the duration of recent events, Madelaine’s mind seemed to have lost all sense of time…the most she could remember about being rescued from the island were glimpses of people, both strange and familiar. She could vaguely remember being taken away, finding herself in a hospital room. The pure whiteness of the room had temporarily blinded her, that much she remembered.
She also remembered seeing her family…though rather than finding it a source of solace or relief, more than anything, all she found was disillusionment. For rather than greeting her with smiles and open arms…her parents simply stared at her as though she had risen from the grave, a haunted look in their eyes that reflected that almost seemed like fear, or repulsion. Even Miriam wouldn’t come near her anymore. Her eyes, once so cheery and innocent, now held the same shadow as her mother and father.
And there was another event that had burned itself into Madelaine’s mind…one that was more vivid, painful, and frightening than any other memory she held at the moment…
Absently, her fingers traced the bandages that wrapped around her neck, concealing the wound beneath. Along with other bruises, cuts, and marks, this was simply evidence of what had happened to Madelaine during recent events…
Her eyes widened. She shuddered suddenly, and pressed her fingers to her paling face, as though to suppress a horrified scream.
No! I don’t want to remember! Just leave me be.
But the images came back to her as though she was reliving the moment when that person had found her. She nearly didn’t survive it…and it was almost by a miracle that Madelaine had survived it seemed. But though she emerged with her life intact, it came at a terrible price, one that would haunt her every nightmare and waking dream for as long as she lived.
Flashbacks. One of the doctors told her that something like this would happen, but the pre-warning was hardly any comfort to Madelaine. Thanks to what had happened, she was now tainted, cursed…desecrated for life. That part of her, now shattered, would never be the same.
Why did it have to happen…?
And as if the memory of it wasn’t enough, Madelaine had enough sense to know exactly the reason why people she passed, strangers and familiars, avoided her gaze and whispered amongst eachother behind their backs. She knew well enough. No doubt they had seen what had happened to her. Everyone did. Even her family wouldn’t look at her the same way they did so lovingly and kindly before.
They don’t know what it’s like….
Madelaine drew her lips together tightly as she stared over the edge of the roof, hugging herself tightly with thin arms to shield herself against the onslaught of wind that rushed past. Given the condition it was in now, she was no longer wearing her uniform. Rather, it had been exchanged for a dust-rose turtleneck that concealed the bandages about her neck, as the bruises around her collar, wrist, and shoulders. A floral-pattern skirt danced at her ankles, around the moccasins she always wore, though now they were stained with dirt.
Her shoulders were hunched over, head bowed towards the parking lot below, as though she were in pain. Shoulder length hair fell freely, almost wildly across her face, also marked with bruises that weren’t easily concealed. Her brown eyes, once so lively and cheerful, now seemed hard and deadened, devoid of all energy and life that they once held. Along with her tightly drawn, pale lips, and bruises along her cheek, her facial seemed as though they had lost their delicate nature, hardening into severity.
Her mind was now running over all she had experienced during her ordeal….the sight of corpses, the smell of blood, the scent of heated metal… and then there was anger, fear, grief, pain, and despair…there was also comfort and a sense of solace, but it had been only momentary for her.
And to think that all it took for me to finally lose hope was for that to happen….
She winced slightly, struggling to shake the memory off. Instead, she tried to comfort herself with other thoughts…she was home again, with her family. But then again, even Miriam wouldn’t talk to, or even look at her. She still had friends with her…but for some reason Madelaine hadn’t seen any of them in a while…the fact that they were her friends now seemed almost irrelevant while she was alone like this…
Well at least now she didn’t have to fear for her life.
But Madelaine began to wonder, as she stared towards windy cityscape, grey and dreary in the relentless gale.
Perhaps I should have died.
The tides of her heart continued to churn, forboding the rise of a violent storm.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
(from what I assume the inactives and those who want their characters to remain dead are still dead, and the bleeding timeline is sorely fucked up. but oh well i know that two of Shinya's kills remain dead:P)
"Well Miracles do happen afterall, but the calls wont stop calling, even to my mobile."
Shinya sat on a bench infront of Berry Colson High School, blatently zoning out. He had killed two people in a Jack the ripper fashion,and got off scot free. This didnt feel right, Son of Sam got arrested for what he did, but whos complaining about it.
Shinya sighed as his mobile went off again, reaching into his pocket he pulled out his mobile and saw that it was another fucker with too much free time, and found out his mobile number, damn you CNN, Damn you to hell.
Undoing the back panel on his phone he removed the Battery than reterned it back to its place. He wanted no more to do with those idiots, Shinya stood up making a mental note to change his mobile phone number.
___________________________________________________________
Kiyoko sat at her desk in her new apartment infront of a laptop that was designed for someone who only understood the japanese language. Checking her email, a swarm of email was flooding her inbox
"Argh!"
Kiyoko yelled as she yelled as she went through the long prosssess of deleting all of that emailone by one.
___________________________________________________________________
(rest to be added)
"Well Miracles do happen afterall, but the calls wont stop calling, even to my mobile."
Shinya sat on a bench infront of Berry Colson High School, blatently zoning out. He had killed two people in a Jack the ripper fashion,and got off scot free. This didnt feel right, Son of Sam got arrested for what he did, but whos complaining about it.
Shinya sighed as his mobile went off again, reaching into his pocket he pulled out his mobile and saw that it was another fucker with too much free time, and found out his mobile number, damn you CNN, Damn you to hell.
Undoing the back panel on his phone he removed the Battery than reterned it back to its place. He wanted no more to do with those idiots, Shinya stood up making a mental note to change his mobile phone number.
___________________________________________________________
Kiyoko sat at her desk in her new apartment infront of a laptop that was designed for someone who only understood the japanese language. Checking her email, a swarm of email was flooding her inbox
"Argh!"
Kiyoko yelled as she yelled as she went through the long prosssess of deleting all of that emailone by one.
___________________________________________________________________
(rest to be added)
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Heather avatar by Kermit.
The breeze that currently blew about the area…
The sun beating down from above them…
The cool gravel that covered the roof…
The pain of his emotions ripping through him…
None of it… he couldn’t feel a thing.
Everything had become numbed since he had returned to this reality from the harsh environment he and many of his classmates had faced on that hellhole of an island. It was almost like they had all been dreaming the same brutal nightmare. A nightmare that had stolen the lives of many not only from the halls of Barry Coleson… but also from all around the world.
The curled form of Hawley Faust sat along side the entrance onto the roof, in the shade that the small building like object casted in thanks to the sun rays. Unable to take getting back into the daily routine of school life that was happening below where he sat, he had to fight to just get on the bus this morning. His brother, as his parents had been off on a vacation of sorts, had all but tried to keep him out of school today.
The events two days ago were still burning fresh in his mind, as he found himself all of the sudden standing before the door to his house… not facing death every minute as he had been just hours before. All his wounds cleaned and bandaged the collar no longer donning his throat just leaving his scar to full view to the world once more. Even still, after he had been welcomed back by his brothers… their welcomes almost swallow… but what had he been expecting?
Sitting there at dinner that night, he couldn’t help as when he would raise his hand and rub the red circle about his neck where the collar had been grasped about. “The redness will go away in a few days…” He remembered the doctor clearly telling him, this redness till then would be his reminder of his time on the island.
The wounds would forever remain though… the dull pain of them wouldn’t just go away like the redness. They could be hidden from those in the world around him, yes. But there was no way he could forget them so simply, those wounds where the simply the branding that told everyone who had seen the game had that game had turned him into.
‘… A murderer.’
In that short time on that island he had been the cause of four deaths… four people weren’t going to becoming home to their families like some of them had. Already he could see where August and Helena’s deaths had been witnessed… their lockers covered in cards, and messages, and words of depression of who they would be missed, and how they hadn’t dissevered to die as they had.
As they had… they had died because of him… And looking over all this, as he walked through the halls that morning the stares, and whispers, he knew what they where talking about. I mean what else… they where pretty much celebrities now. Some famous for their actions on the island… and some of them where shunned, and feared because of their actions.
Sighing a bit, he released his legs from where he had, had them pulled close to his chest and stretched them out before him. Tilting his back against the small building he rested against, having discarded his burnt, torn, dirty, and bloody clothes he currently sat in a simple pair of dark blue jeans and gray shirt, a gray and red jacket pulled over his form as his arms lazily laid at his side. White bandages clear against pale, freckled skin where the doctor had bandaged his burn. All his bullet wounds had been fixed up, as well as the cut on his leg from where Helena…
A sharp, blunt pain in the back of his head stopped all from of thoughts there as a wave of sickness washed over him. This was something else that wouldn’t leave… just the sight of the deaths of his victims continued to replay in his mind, Helena’s always worse than the worst. He found himself easy to tell himself August and Terry had been in self-defense… if he hadn’t killed them, they would have killed him.
And Venka… Venka had been an accident, he didn’t mean to pull the trigger… he didn’t…
Breathing in deeply trying to rid the bout of sickness from him, he leaned back once more two-toned eyes focusing on the bright blue sky above them. A sky similar to the one back on the island… but without the smell of smoke, and death and the copper scent of blood surrounding them. Reaching a hand up, he went to push his glass up, but remembering Matthew had thrown them away due to the condition he had opted instead in wearing his contacts today so he could at least be able to see.
Sighing again, he dropped his hand back to his mouth and coughed violently into it… that was something else, the doctors had said it wouldn’t be surprising if in the end he ended up sick. No treatment for his wounds had lead to him coming down with a fever of 100.9 and a horrid cough, but medication kept it from turning into anything worse.
‘I deserve the worse… I shouldn’t be here… I should be back on that island, my humanity died on that island I deserved to die there as well.’ He bit back in thought, as he found himself brushing a strand of hair from his face as his thoughts now drifted onto the people that had came back as well.
He had made five close friends on the island… though each had been through so much… he wondered lightly if any of them wound remain as they had. They where off of that place now, no need to hang about one another anymore now that they where no longer fighting for where their lives. This bringing on another sharp bout of pain from his headache as he placed his right hand against his face, almost whimpering out lightly but biting it back.
Nothing was, or ever would be the same for them… nothing… he wasn’t just some fifteen-year-old student in the freshmen class here at this school anymore, no… he was a cold-blooded killer, and the reason four families weren’t getting their children back from this game.
All him…
Those damn government agents could tell them over and over again that it wasn’t their fault, it wouldn’t be held against them they could go back to normality again.
But really… could they every make this into there normality again? SOTF had been broadcasted for everyone and their grandmother all over the world to see. That game had ripped them all apart to show everyone their true emotions, their true thoughts… they’d been picked apart for the world to see them raw, and wounded both mentally and physically.
Picking up one of the small rocks on the rooftops ground, he pulled his hand back a bit and then pulled forward letting the object fly from his hand, listening out as it thudded lightly against something near the ground. Probably one of the cars in the front parking lot, he’d get in a bit of trouble for doing something like this… but what did it matter.
‘At least I'd get punished for doing something wrong.’
The sun beating down from above them…
The cool gravel that covered the roof…
The pain of his emotions ripping through him…
None of it… he couldn’t feel a thing.
Everything had become numbed since he had returned to this reality from the harsh environment he and many of his classmates had faced on that hellhole of an island. It was almost like they had all been dreaming the same brutal nightmare. A nightmare that had stolen the lives of many not only from the halls of Barry Coleson… but also from all around the world.
The curled form of Hawley Faust sat along side the entrance onto the roof, in the shade that the small building like object casted in thanks to the sun rays. Unable to take getting back into the daily routine of school life that was happening below where he sat, he had to fight to just get on the bus this morning. His brother, as his parents had been off on a vacation of sorts, had all but tried to keep him out of school today.
The events two days ago were still burning fresh in his mind, as he found himself all of the sudden standing before the door to his house… not facing death every minute as he had been just hours before. All his wounds cleaned and bandaged the collar no longer donning his throat just leaving his scar to full view to the world once more. Even still, after he had been welcomed back by his brothers… their welcomes almost swallow… but what had he been expecting?
Sitting there at dinner that night, he couldn’t help as when he would raise his hand and rub the red circle about his neck where the collar had been grasped about. “The redness will go away in a few days…” He remembered the doctor clearly telling him, this redness till then would be his reminder of his time on the island.
The wounds would forever remain though… the dull pain of them wouldn’t just go away like the redness. They could be hidden from those in the world around him, yes. But there was no way he could forget them so simply, those wounds where the simply the branding that told everyone who had seen the game had that game had turned him into.
‘… A murderer.’
In that short time on that island he had been the cause of four deaths… four people weren’t going to becoming home to their families like some of them had. Already he could see where August and Helena’s deaths had been witnessed… their lockers covered in cards, and messages, and words of depression of who they would be missed, and how they hadn’t dissevered to die as they had.
As they had… they had died because of him… And looking over all this, as he walked through the halls that morning the stares, and whispers, he knew what they where talking about. I mean what else… they where pretty much celebrities now. Some famous for their actions on the island… and some of them where shunned, and feared because of their actions.
Sighing a bit, he released his legs from where he had, had them pulled close to his chest and stretched them out before him. Tilting his back against the small building he rested against, having discarded his burnt, torn, dirty, and bloody clothes he currently sat in a simple pair of dark blue jeans and gray shirt, a gray and red jacket pulled over his form as his arms lazily laid at his side. White bandages clear against pale, freckled skin where the doctor had bandaged his burn. All his bullet wounds had been fixed up, as well as the cut on his leg from where Helena…
A sharp, blunt pain in the back of his head stopped all from of thoughts there as a wave of sickness washed over him. This was something else that wouldn’t leave… just the sight of the deaths of his victims continued to replay in his mind, Helena’s always worse than the worst. He found himself easy to tell himself August and Terry had been in self-defense… if he hadn’t killed them, they would have killed him.
And Venka… Venka had been an accident, he didn’t mean to pull the trigger… he didn’t…
Breathing in deeply trying to rid the bout of sickness from him, he leaned back once more two-toned eyes focusing on the bright blue sky above them. A sky similar to the one back on the island… but without the smell of smoke, and death and the copper scent of blood surrounding them. Reaching a hand up, he went to push his glass up, but remembering Matthew had thrown them away due to the condition he had opted instead in wearing his contacts today so he could at least be able to see.
Sighing again, he dropped his hand back to his mouth and coughed violently into it… that was something else, the doctors had said it wouldn’t be surprising if in the end he ended up sick. No treatment for his wounds had lead to him coming down with a fever of 100.9 and a horrid cough, but medication kept it from turning into anything worse.
‘I deserve the worse… I shouldn’t be here… I should be back on that island, my humanity died on that island I deserved to die there as well.’ He bit back in thought, as he found himself brushing a strand of hair from his face as his thoughts now drifted onto the people that had came back as well.
He had made five close friends on the island… though each had been through so much… he wondered lightly if any of them wound remain as they had. They where off of that place now, no need to hang about one another anymore now that they where no longer fighting for where their lives. This bringing on another sharp bout of pain from his headache as he placed his right hand against his face, almost whimpering out lightly but biting it back.
Nothing was, or ever would be the same for them… nothing… he wasn’t just some fifteen-year-old student in the freshmen class here at this school anymore, no… he was a cold-blooded killer, and the reason four families weren’t getting their children back from this game.
All him…
Those damn government agents could tell them over and over again that it wasn’t their fault, it wouldn’t be held against them they could go back to normality again.
But really… could they every make this into there normality again? SOTF had been broadcasted for everyone and their grandmother all over the world to see. That game had ripped them all apart to show everyone their true emotions, their true thoughts… they’d been picked apart for the world to see them raw, and wounded both mentally and physically.
Picking up one of the small rocks on the rooftops ground, he pulled his hand back a bit and then pulled forward letting the object fly from his hand, listening out as it thudded lightly against something near the ground. Probably one of the cars in the front parking lot, he’d get in a bit of trouble for doing something like this… but what did it matter.
‘At least I'd get punished for doing something wrong.’
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler riserugu. 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.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Madelaine felt herself move closer and closer towards the edge of the roof, as though some unseen force was compelling her to draw nearer. With her feet almost halfway off the edge, it was almost as though she were stepping upon thin air. She could see the line of buildings across the street from roof to base, and the parking lot far below.
...Very far below...
She gulped as a cold gale pressed against her back, as if urging her forward, and over the edge of the multi-story building. It was almost thrilling, yet frightening at the same time... Everything fell sharply below her, coming to an abrupt halt where the walls of the building met the ground. From here, she could see miniature figures of people here and there, walking to and from buildings, talking amongst themselves.
Madelaine might have noticed the people down below who saw her and suddenly started shouting and pointing at her, but she paid no intention to any of that. Rather, she was stirring up in her mind what it would be like to experience the momentary feeling of slight, before it all ended abruptly. She imagined herself being crushed headfist against the floor of the building...or if she landed feet first, her ankles might be shattered first before it was all over. Come to think of it, how would anyone know if death by fall was a painful one? The very thought was enough to chill Madelaine...
But what chilled her even more were the emotions that burned inside her...pain, rage...and even self-loathing. They churned within her, drawing her closer and closer beyond the edge of the roof and into thin air...
She was brought back to earth by the sound of a low tap against metal...squinting slightly, her vision, blurred by tears, focused just in time to see a rock bounce off upon hitting a windshield..forming a distinct dent along the pane.
Startled, she looked about, almost cautiously, wondering if someone was nearby...
Madelaine blinked in surprise upon seeing Hawley's form, slightly curled up somewhere nearby, sheltered by cast shadows. It didn't seem that he had noticed her.
Feeling slightly relieved, Madelaine relaxed her nerves a bit. Hawley had been with her for the majority of the time she spent on the island...as with the rest of her friends, being with him had been a source of solace for Madelaine...
But now, Madelaine could tell by the haunted look in his eyes that he had much on his mind...like herself, like everyone who played a part in the horrible ordeal known as SOTF.
She looked around tentatively, wondering if anyone had gotten the idea that she was about to throw herself off the roof...of course, she hadn't. She had only imagined it...it wasn't as though she was considering it...right?
Madelaine didn't know anymore.
Timidly approaching Hawley, Madelaine looked over at him, and tried to smile a bit. "...Good morning, Hawley."
The smile came out weak, and her voice trailed off. And even know, Madelaine knew not what else to say at all.
...Very far below...
She gulped as a cold gale pressed against her back, as if urging her forward, and over the edge of the multi-story building. It was almost thrilling, yet frightening at the same time... Everything fell sharply below her, coming to an abrupt halt where the walls of the building met the ground. From here, she could see miniature figures of people here and there, walking to and from buildings, talking amongst themselves.
Madelaine might have noticed the people down below who saw her and suddenly started shouting and pointing at her, but she paid no intention to any of that. Rather, she was stirring up in her mind what it would be like to experience the momentary feeling of slight, before it all ended abruptly. She imagined herself being crushed headfist against the floor of the building...or if she landed feet first, her ankles might be shattered first before it was all over. Come to think of it, how would anyone know if death by fall was a painful one? The very thought was enough to chill Madelaine...
But what chilled her even more were the emotions that burned inside her...pain, rage...and even self-loathing. They churned within her, drawing her closer and closer beyond the edge of the roof and into thin air...
She was brought back to earth by the sound of a low tap against metal...squinting slightly, her vision, blurred by tears, focused just in time to see a rock bounce off upon hitting a windshield..forming a distinct dent along the pane.
Startled, she looked about, almost cautiously, wondering if someone was nearby...
Madelaine blinked in surprise upon seeing Hawley's form, slightly curled up somewhere nearby, sheltered by cast shadows. It didn't seem that he had noticed her.
Feeling slightly relieved, Madelaine relaxed her nerves a bit. Hawley had been with her for the majority of the time she spent on the island...as with the rest of her friends, being with him had been a source of solace for Madelaine...
But now, Madelaine could tell by the haunted look in his eyes that he had much on his mind...like herself, like everyone who played a part in the horrible ordeal known as SOTF.
She looked around tentatively, wondering if anyone had gotten the idea that she was about to throw herself off the roof...of course, she hadn't. She had only imagined it...it wasn't as though she was considering it...right?
Madelaine didn't know anymore.
Timidly approaching Hawley, Madelaine looked over at him, and tried to smile a bit. "...Good morning, Hawley."
The smile came out weak, and her voice trailed off. And even know, Madelaine knew not what else to say at all.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
"Welcome home, Syd!"
"You're home, you're home, you're home!!"
"We knew you'd make it."
"We love you. So, so much..."
Nobody's home. The TV's on, and there's no one watching.
The only trace of his parents ever having been there after Syd's departure was the still image displayed on the television screen. It was green and grainy, as if it were stolen from some mall's security files. The reasons why his parents' would watch such a thing were all outrageous. What buisness did they have watching a film about some deranged goggled boy?
...Oh. That explained it, then.
He pushed the rewind button on the VCR, watching all the scenes on the island play in backwards time. From Sydney's "victory", to Martin's demise, to Ashley's suicide, to Jamie's first kill, and then, finally, Syd's team-up. It was all there... A sick and everlasting reminder of SOTF in the form of videotape. As if nightmares weren't enough of a reminder as it was. Now, there was a tape, too, for the whole world to see again and again.
The tape started up again once it had backed up to the beginning, but the hasty push of the eject button stopped it from continuing further. There was no need for Syd to see it when the daynightmares had replayed every event for him.
"Friends forever, right?"
The boy had expected welcoming arms, joyful laughs, and loving tears when he had came home. All he had gotten here was a video as messed up as Mr. Danya.
There wasn't second tape telling the tale of the most recent SOTF. There was only the one of Aberthol and Shaker High, most likely because the government had found Danya before the last game's official end. But, knowing the idiots out there, they're are probably hundreds of recordings floating around the black market...
The grandfather clock sounded off, alerting Sydney Morvran to the time of day. 6:25 AM. The time when he was supposed to be leaving for the bus to Aberthol. I'm not going back there. The memories of his friends on the island kept him from even thinking about the fateful school.
I just...want to start over. Withering away into nothingness wasn't an option. His parents (God only knew where they had gone) and Dwayne wouldn't've wanted the survivor of SOTF to refuse renewal. He needed to socialize with other kids, he needed to get new friends, he needed to be able to get mad at teachers, he needed to become sad because he missed Honor Roll, he needed the real world. Otherwise, he'd go insane, or, worse, rot away inside of his empty home.
He knew of a school in the neighboring county. Some average school called Barry Coleson High; a mere thirty minute bus ride from his old school. If he ran after his quick change and shower, he could make it there before the school doors closed.
Here's to new beginnings, my merry friends.
"You're home, you're home, you're home!!"
"We knew you'd make it."
"We love you. So, so much..."
Nobody's home. The TV's on, and there's no one watching.
The only trace of his parents ever having been there after Syd's departure was the still image displayed on the television screen. It was green and grainy, as if it were stolen from some mall's security files. The reasons why his parents' would watch such a thing were all outrageous. What buisness did they have watching a film about some deranged goggled boy?
...Oh. That explained it, then.
He pushed the rewind button on the VCR, watching all the scenes on the island play in backwards time. From Sydney's "victory", to Martin's demise, to Ashley's suicide, to Jamie's first kill, and then, finally, Syd's team-up. It was all there... A sick and everlasting reminder of SOTF in the form of videotape. As if nightmares weren't enough of a reminder as it was. Now, there was a tape, too, for the whole world to see again and again.
The tape started up again once it had backed up to the beginning, but the hasty push of the eject button stopped it from continuing further. There was no need for Syd to see it when the daynightmares had replayed every event for him.
"Friends forever, right?"
The boy had expected welcoming arms, joyful laughs, and loving tears when he had came home. All he had gotten here was a video as messed up as Mr. Danya.
There wasn't second tape telling the tale of the most recent SOTF. There was only the one of Aberthol and Shaker High, most likely because the government had found Danya before the last game's official end. But, knowing the idiots out there, they're are probably hundreds of recordings floating around the black market...
The grandfather clock sounded off, alerting Sydney Morvran to the time of day. 6:25 AM. The time when he was supposed to be leaving for the bus to Aberthol. I'm not going back there. The memories of his friends on the island kept him from even thinking about the fateful school.
I just...want to start over. Withering away into nothingness wasn't an option. His parents (God only knew where they had gone) and Dwayne wouldn't've wanted the survivor of SOTF to refuse renewal. He needed to socialize with other kids, he needed to get new friends, he needed to be able to get mad at teachers, he needed to become sad because he missed Honor Roll, he needed the real world. Otherwise, he'd go insane, or, worse, rot away inside of his empty home.
He knew of a school in the neighboring county. Some average school called Barry Coleson High; a mere thirty minute bus ride from his old school. If he ran after his quick change and shower, he could make it there before the school doors closed.
Here's to new beginnings, my merry friends.
Founder of SOTF - 2005.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
OOC: Here we go: Adam's alive, Amanda's alive, Andrew's alive by a sliver. Everyone else is dead. Well, except Sidney and Gilbert, but they don't count.
IC:
As the pitter-patter of the rain fell down upon the brown sidewalk, the somewhat soaking-wet Adam Dodd shivered a little. It was that time of year, again, the time of year to which things get cooler, and things begin to die. That, of course, was an interesting parallel to be made, for in the beginning of this cool autumn, Adam knew that a lot more things than usual had died. This time around, it wasn't just trees and bushes that had perished, no. It was real people, many of them going before their time. Sure, people died every single day in the world, but this time, this year...it was an unnatural death, indeed.
It was odd enough, he figured, how often that he kept putting his hand to his throat, glad to not feel the familiar tinge of a metallic collar around his throat. That oddity was one that he personally felt glad to have around. He'd been on the island for a grand total of six days, but in those six days, Adam knew that he'd changed so much more than he'd ever expected he could, even if you were to give him six years.
And yet, we got through it. They rescued us, and we got through it...
As his grey sweatshirt protected him from a bit of the rain, and yet still became damp with water as the rain picked up, Adam ducked for cover inside of a nearby Coffee Shop. The morning walk to school had been one that he'd made so many times, and yet this time, it just seemed as though the walk was taking twenty times as long as it usually did.
Then again, that's generally what happened when you were alone, with no one to keep you company except your own thoughts.
Like most of the parents of the children who had been abducted by the program, Adam's father had offered to let him stay home, something that he had honestly thought long and hard about doing, but he eventually decided that going to school would be the best idea for him. He couldn't bear being alone, or with his family at the present. There were far too many emotions running wild, far too many random thoughts that Adam frankly did not want to deal with.
Not yet, anyway.
Going to school today was something that Adam was doing simply for the show of it, simply to get out of his house. He planned on attending none of his classes, and simply wandering around the school, visiting various classrooms and perhaps popping his head into a few of his classes just to see if there was anything important going on. Likely, the classes wouldn't be in session anyways, as the majority of the students were far too broken up to even think about learning.
And that's how it'll be. There'll be so many people who'll require years of therapy to get over this, especially those who've killed people.
Like me.
It was an interesting thought that Adam had to cock his head at as he deposited two dollars down on the counter, taking the hot chocolate from the hands of the vender and waving at her to keep the change. He'd hardly even realized that he was doing it, grabbing a hot drink to keep himself warm on what was quickly turning into a cool day. School was just a few minutes walk away, and as Adam looked out the window and saw the rain lessen, he stepped outside of the coffee shop, sipping on his drink, ignoring the few whispers that he heard from people inside.
That had been one of the harder things to deal with - the whispers. Adam knew that SOTF had been broadcast nationwide, and odds were that most of the people in school had seen and heard his every reaction to being thrown in that kind of situation. Adam couldn't help but wonder offhandedly what public opinion was on how he'd acted. Did people label him as the 'kid who freaked out and swore a lot' or the 'leader who kept his friends alive'? Shrugging, he realized that truthfully, he could hardly care.
Today would be the first day that Adam had seen anyone from the SOTF program at all. He had spoken with literally no one since they'd been rescued, and as it was, the rescue had been quite the shock to all of them. When their collars had suddenly all fallen dead at their feet, Adam had stared Hawley Faust straight in the eye and with a twinkle in his eye had shaken his head like he couldn't believe what was happening. When the soldiers had flooded onto the island, Adam couldn't believe his eyes. He'd instantly dropped the weapons he had, and numbly followed the soldiers onto one of the choppers that had began to land all over the island.
The ride back home had been one that he'd hardly spoken a word to anyone. Riding in the chopper with those who'd been in the immediate viscinity of him at the time had been painfully silent, but not even Adam knew to crack a joke. They'd all been through something that for their entire lives, none of them would likely ever forget.
As he stepped into the familiar corridors of Barry Coleson High School, Adam felt a strange sense of relaxation set over his mind.
Damn, who thought that I'd ever say it, but it sure does feel good to be back at school...
As he glanced down the corridors, he saw several of what looked like tributes to fallen students - most noticably big displays at the lockers of Helena Van Garret and August Masbeth, the two girls who'd shared lockers, friendships, and final resting places. There were many others that Adam only bothered glancing at as he looked around the hallway and saw familiar faces, many who seemed to be giving him a wide berth.
Wow...how...fucking weird...
He knew that he'd never been the most unpopular person in school, and truthfully, he knew more than half of the school's population, but people simply went about their business as if nothing had happened, not saying a word to him, not even those who knew him. He couldn't help but feel as though he was being avoided, but like most of those who had been on the island, it likely felt very odd talking to, let alone looking at someone who'd killed a fellow student.
He'd almost forgotten about that. Blaine Eno, the quiet kid who had been on the track team, had been the one guy that Adam had killed while he was on the island. Granted, Blaine had murdered several others in cold blood, and Adam killed him while saving the lives of two students, but he supposed that to everyone else, a kill was still a kill, and for the time being, things were going to be very awkward.
It was at this point that Adam noticed that several ninth-graders were gawking in his general direction, most of whom he'd seen around, mostly those who were in the 'loud, obnoxious, hooligan' category. Sighing quietly to himself, Adam looked for an exit, somewhere that he could go and collect himself, brace himself for his return to school, and return to some semblance of normality. Removing his cell phone from his pocket, he saw that classes were about twenty minutes in, and those who were either unlucky enough to have first period as lunch or had a spare during that period were wandering the halls.
The halls DID seem abnormally full, though Adam couldn't help but figure that the whole 'SOTF' thing was a big reason for that. Teachers would be having a hell of a time keeping kids in line, and it would likely be that way for some time to come. Glancing at the stairwell to the roof, Adam moved in that general direction, thinking that some air would likely be an idea, especially as the hall began to grow more and more claustrophobic.
So this is what it's like to be back. Except this time, instead of trying to be normal and fit in, it's basically everything but. Abnormal, and now I stand out. God, I can't wait until I finally grow the balls to go online and see what kind of Internet fansites got started up, here.
As he made his way up the stairs and depressed the long metal bar that was the essential handle to the door, Adam half-heartedly wondered if there was anyone else on the roof. Mostly, the roof was the hangout for the delinquints and the smokers, those who wanted to catch a quick break while polluting their lungs at the same time. Glancing around as he stepped out into the cool air, he saw only one figure, and as the door slammed shut behind him, he stopped, realizing exactly who it was.
Well, well, well...if it isn't Madelaine Shirohara...of all the fucking places to be, she's up here, probably for the same damn reason.
Adam couldn't help but chuckle a little as he looked at the girl, who seemed to be talking to herself. Adam couldn't blame her, though. After such an ordeal, he'd done his fair share. He'd become pretty close friends with her while on the island, and though the experience had been hellish, Adam couldn't help but wonder if it were supposed to be, if the whole thing were meant to happen, if not to educate them on how valuable life really was, but to bring the group of them closer together.
He'd not seen nor heard from Amanda Jones since the incident, but that was to be expected. Her father was the Vice President, and was likely holding her close, with armed escorts at every turn. Probably be awhile before I see her again... Hawley, Madelaine and David, from what he knew, were still in town, but he hadn't seen any of them, until now...
As he walked up to the girl sitting on the roof, he blinked in surprise as he realized that Madelaine wasn't actually speaking with herself, but with the afformentioned Hawley Faust. The kid who'd tried to kill himself had developed a fierce will to live in the time that Adam had known him, and during that time had become fairly close with Adam himself. He couldn't help but feel thankful that they'd been rescued when they did, for when they'd been checked out, Hawley had been prescribed antibiotics for his burn infection and released. If they'd been rescued any later, the kid would have died.
And if it weren't for him, so would I...
Adam was then reminded of the wound he'd recieved, to his arm. The doctors had resewn it up and cleaned it out, and the stitches and dull throb reminded Adam that if the wound had been deeper, he would have died. It was Hawley's quick work that had saved Adam's life, and for that, the boy would be forever in his debt.
Sipping his hot chocolate again, Adam kicked a small stone at the two teenagers, standing fairly close but still keeping his distance, not wanting to have interrupted anything significant. Though the mood seemed tense, and Adam himself didn't feel all that great, he couldn't help but make a wise-crack.
"Well, shit...you all know the roof's a place for stoners, and couples looking to swap a little tongue in between classes...now please, tell me you guys haven't gotten into drugs?"
Though his words had a certain sarcasm to them, the tone of his voice told them both that his heart really wasn't in it. Shooting them both a sad little grin, he scratched the stubble that had grown back from the day before, when he'd shaved as soon as he'd returned home.
"...nah, I'm fuckin' with you. How are...how're you guys holding up?"
IC:
As the pitter-patter of the rain fell down upon the brown sidewalk, the somewhat soaking-wet Adam Dodd shivered a little. It was that time of year, again, the time of year to which things get cooler, and things begin to die. That, of course, was an interesting parallel to be made, for in the beginning of this cool autumn, Adam knew that a lot more things than usual had died. This time around, it wasn't just trees and bushes that had perished, no. It was real people, many of them going before their time. Sure, people died every single day in the world, but this time, this year...it was an unnatural death, indeed.
It was odd enough, he figured, how often that he kept putting his hand to his throat, glad to not feel the familiar tinge of a metallic collar around his throat. That oddity was one that he personally felt glad to have around. He'd been on the island for a grand total of six days, but in those six days, Adam knew that he'd changed so much more than he'd ever expected he could, even if you were to give him six years.
And yet, we got through it. They rescued us, and we got through it...
As his grey sweatshirt protected him from a bit of the rain, and yet still became damp with water as the rain picked up, Adam ducked for cover inside of a nearby Coffee Shop. The morning walk to school had been one that he'd made so many times, and yet this time, it just seemed as though the walk was taking twenty times as long as it usually did.
Then again, that's generally what happened when you were alone, with no one to keep you company except your own thoughts.
Like most of the parents of the children who had been abducted by the program, Adam's father had offered to let him stay home, something that he had honestly thought long and hard about doing, but he eventually decided that going to school would be the best idea for him. He couldn't bear being alone, or with his family at the present. There were far too many emotions running wild, far too many random thoughts that Adam frankly did not want to deal with.
Not yet, anyway.
Going to school today was something that Adam was doing simply for the show of it, simply to get out of his house. He planned on attending none of his classes, and simply wandering around the school, visiting various classrooms and perhaps popping his head into a few of his classes just to see if there was anything important going on. Likely, the classes wouldn't be in session anyways, as the majority of the students were far too broken up to even think about learning.
And that's how it'll be. There'll be so many people who'll require years of therapy to get over this, especially those who've killed people.
Like me.
It was an interesting thought that Adam had to cock his head at as he deposited two dollars down on the counter, taking the hot chocolate from the hands of the vender and waving at her to keep the change. He'd hardly even realized that he was doing it, grabbing a hot drink to keep himself warm on what was quickly turning into a cool day. School was just a few minutes walk away, and as Adam looked out the window and saw the rain lessen, he stepped outside of the coffee shop, sipping on his drink, ignoring the few whispers that he heard from people inside.
That had been one of the harder things to deal with - the whispers. Adam knew that SOTF had been broadcast nationwide, and odds were that most of the people in school had seen and heard his every reaction to being thrown in that kind of situation. Adam couldn't help but wonder offhandedly what public opinion was on how he'd acted. Did people label him as the 'kid who freaked out and swore a lot' or the 'leader who kept his friends alive'? Shrugging, he realized that truthfully, he could hardly care.
Today would be the first day that Adam had seen anyone from the SOTF program at all. He had spoken with literally no one since they'd been rescued, and as it was, the rescue had been quite the shock to all of them. When their collars had suddenly all fallen dead at their feet, Adam had stared Hawley Faust straight in the eye and with a twinkle in his eye had shaken his head like he couldn't believe what was happening. When the soldiers had flooded onto the island, Adam couldn't believe his eyes. He'd instantly dropped the weapons he had, and numbly followed the soldiers onto one of the choppers that had began to land all over the island.
The ride back home had been one that he'd hardly spoken a word to anyone. Riding in the chopper with those who'd been in the immediate viscinity of him at the time had been painfully silent, but not even Adam knew to crack a joke. They'd all been through something that for their entire lives, none of them would likely ever forget.
As he stepped into the familiar corridors of Barry Coleson High School, Adam felt a strange sense of relaxation set over his mind.
Damn, who thought that I'd ever say it, but it sure does feel good to be back at school...
As he glanced down the corridors, he saw several of what looked like tributes to fallen students - most noticably big displays at the lockers of Helena Van Garret and August Masbeth, the two girls who'd shared lockers, friendships, and final resting places. There were many others that Adam only bothered glancing at as he looked around the hallway and saw familiar faces, many who seemed to be giving him a wide berth.
Wow...how...fucking weird...
He knew that he'd never been the most unpopular person in school, and truthfully, he knew more than half of the school's population, but people simply went about their business as if nothing had happened, not saying a word to him, not even those who knew him. He couldn't help but feel as though he was being avoided, but like most of those who had been on the island, it likely felt very odd talking to, let alone looking at someone who'd killed a fellow student.
He'd almost forgotten about that. Blaine Eno, the quiet kid who had been on the track team, had been the one guy that Adam had killed while he was on the island. Granted, Blaine had murdered several others in cold blood, and Adam killed him while saving the lives of two students, but he supposed that to everyone else, a kill was still a kill, and for the time being, things were going to be very awkward.
It was at this point that Adam noticed that several ninth-graders were gawking in his general direction, most of whom he'd seen around, mostly those who were in the 'loud, obnoxious, hooligan' category. Sighing quietly to himself, Adam looked for an exit, somewhere that he could go and collect himself, brace himself for his return to school, and return to some semblance of normality. Removing his cell phone from his pocket, he saw that classes were about twenty minutes in, and those who were either unlucky enough to have first period as lunch or had a spare during that period were wandering the halls.
The halls DID seem abnormally full, though Adam couldn't help but figure that the whole 'SOTF' thing was a big reason for that. Teachers would be having a hell of a time keeping kids in line, and it would likely be that way for some time to come. Glancing at the stairwell to the roof, Adam moved in that general direction, thinking that some air would likely be an idea, especially as the hall began to grow more and more claustrophobic.
So this is what it's like to be back. Except this time, instead of trying to be normal and fit in, it's basically everything but. Abnormal, and now I stand out. God, I can't wait until I finally grow the balls to go online and see what kind of Internet fansites got started up, here.
As he made his way up the stairs and depressed the long metal bar that was the essential handle to the door, Adam half-heartedly wondered if there was anyone else on the roof. Mostly, the roof was the hangout for the delinquints and the smokers, those who wanted to catch a quick break while polluting their lungs at the same time. Glancing around as he stepped out into the cool air, he saw only one figure, and as the door slammed shut behind him, he stopped, realizing exactly who it was.
Well, well, well...if it isn't Madelaine Shirohara...of all the fucking places to be, she's up here, probably for the same damn reason.
Adam couldn't help but chuckle a little as he looked at the girl, who seemed to be talking to herself. Adam couldn't blame her, though. After such an ordeal, he'd done his fair share. He'd become pretty close friends with her while on the island, and though the experience had been hellish, Adam couldn't help but wonder if it were supposed to be, if the whole thing were meant to happen, if not to educate them on how valuable life really was, but to bring the group of them closer together.
He'd not seen nor heard from Amanda Jones since the incident, but that was to be expected. Her father was the Vice President, and was likely holding her close, with armed escorts at every turn. Probably be awhile before I see her again... Hawley, Madelaine and David, from what he knew, were still in town, but he hadn't seen any of them, until now...
As he walked up to the girl sitting on the roof, he blinked in surprise as he realized that Madelaine wasn't actually speaking with herself, but with the afformentioned Hawley Faust. The kid who'd tried to kill himself had developed a fierce will to live in the time that Adam had known him, and during that time had become fairly close with Adam himself. He couldn't help but feel thankful that they'd been rescued when they did, for when they'd been checked out, Hawley had been prescribed antibiotics for his burn infection and released. If they'd been rescued any later, the kid would have died.
And if it weren't for him, so would I...
Adam was then reminded of the wound he'd recieved, to his arm. The doctors had resewn it up and cleaned it out, and the stitches and dull throb reminded Adam that if the wound had been deeper, he would have died. It was Hawley's quick work that had saved Adam's life, and for that, the boy would be forever in his debt.
Sipping his hot chocolate again, Adam kicked a small stone at the two teenagers, standing fairly close but still keeping his distance, not wanting to have interrupted anything significant. Though the mood seemed tense, and Adam himself didn't feel all that great, he couldn't help but make a wise-crack.
"Well, shit...you all know the roof's a place for stoners, and couples looking to swap a little tongue in between classes...now please, tell me you guys haven't gotten into drugs?"
Though his words had a certain sarcasm to them, the tone of his voice told them both that his heart really wasn't in it. Shooting them both a sad little grin, he scratched the stubble that had grown back from the day before, when he'd shaved as soon as he'd returned home.
"...nah, I'm fuckin' with you. How are...how're you guys holding up?"
The rain had been coming down for a while now, effectively soaking the campus of Barry Coleson High School. Puddles of water had long since begun forming on the ground, and the water splashed across the tip of Lyndi Thibodeaux's Doc Martins as she slowly walked across campus. It was a dreary day, but it could have been bright and sunny and the dark and bleak mood that seemed to enshroud Barry Coleson would have still remained. Returning to this place meant that she had to face facts. There would be many students who would not return here today. Friends that she would never see again. Acquaintances that would prove to never be anything more. Lyndi silently wondered whether or not they would have funerals for those who died, and what had become of their bodies.
Clinging to her black leather jacket tightly, Lyndi continued to trudge through the rain toward the door of the school building. She was considerably dressed down today: her long brown hair, normally pulled up, had been left down and fell loose all the way down to the small of her back. She had done her makeup, as she always did, but something about today just made it hard to even attempt to dress up. She simply adorned a light pink t-shirt under her jacket and a pair of blue jeans. Reaching for the handle of the door, she trudged into the hallway of BCHS. The halls were surprisingly full, but after what the people here had experienced, who could blame them for skipping out on a few classes? What surprised Lyndi was the silence that seemed to scream through the hallway. Everyone looked so forelorn... so solemn.
Her eyes cast downward as she walked through the hall, she felt odd looking people in the eye. She had not done anything wrong, she was probably one of the very few people who had not killed someone in "that place", but still. She had been there. She had played witness to the corpses strewn about the island. She wondered if that psychopath who had chopped up the body back at the lighthouse was here now, walking among them as if nothing had happened. It was an unsettling thought. This school was full of murderers. Did she have any right to call them that? If no one had killed on that island, they would have all died. The game would have timed out, and it would have been over.
The kids who had gone on the trip had fought for their lives and the lives of their friends. And to think, that was supposed to be a trip. They were supposed to have had a good time. The solemn and knowing expressions on the faces of everyone in the hallway told her one thing, alright. They knew. They all knew. Even if they had not been there, they had seen everything. It was an eerie feeling, knowing that everyone around you knew everything you had done the past few days. She wondered how many of them judged her or her actions. The thought made her ill. She did not understand why, it was not as if she had done anything wrong. The fact that she was one of the kids who had been abducted and sent to that horrible place seemed to be enough.
As Lyndi reached her locker, she noticed a set down from hers that had been decorated elaborately. They were the lockers of August Masbeth and Helena Van Garrett, two of the girls who had been killed on the island. Nodding to herself, Lyndi knew that she, too, would have to put a fairwell message on their lockers. Right next to her locker was the locker of the former Dahlia Riviera. The image of Dahlia's corpse, mangled and mutilated, came back to Lyndi's mind as she looked at the locker, noting the messages that had been placed on it.
We should not have to mourn the deaths of people our own age... not like this...
Somewhat distraught, Lyndi struggled to open her locker. After the third or fourth time to turn the combination lock, it finally came open with a creak. Her eyes traced along the interior of her locker. It seemed almost bare. What had she come here for? A stack of books sat in the locker, but Lyndi did not really feel like going to class. Instead, she glanced numbly at the pictures that had been plastered all over her locker. There were pictures of herself and Elsie, of course. Pictures of herself and other friends. Here and there were a few pictures of herself and a few people that had not made it off the island. Lyndi closed her eyes, feeling a tinge of pain in her chest. Those were people that she would never see again. She remained there, quietly gazing into her locker, not sure why she had opened it in the first place.
Clinging to her black leather jacket tightly, Lyndi continued to trudge through the rain toward the door of the school building. She was considerably dressed down today: her long brown hair, normally pulled up, had been left down and fell loose all the way down to the small of her back. She had done her makeup, as she always did, but something about today just made it hard to even attempt to dress up. She simply adorned a light pink t-shirt under her jacket and a pair of blue jeans. Reaching for the handle of the door, she trudged into the hallway of BCHS. The halls were surprisingly full, but after what the people here had experienced, who could blame them for skipping out on a few classes? What surprised Lyndi was the silence that seemed to scream through the hallway. Everyone looked so forelorn... so solemn.
Her eyes cast downward as she walked through the hall, she felt odd looking people in the eye. She had not done anything wrong, she was probably one of the very few people who had not killed someone in "that place", but still. She had been there. She had played witness to the corpses strewn about the island. She wondered if that psychopath who had chopped up the body back at the lighthouse was here now, walking among them as if nothing had happened. It was an unsettling thought. This school was full of murderers. Did she have any right to call them that? If no one had killed on that island, they would have all died. The game would have timed out, and it would have been over.
The kids who had gone on the trip had fought for their lives and the lives of their friends. And to think, that was supposed to be a trip. They were supposed to have had a good time. The solemn and knowing expressions on the faces of everyone in the hallway told her one thing, alright. They knew. They all knew. Even if they had not been there, they had seen everything. It was an eerie feeling, knowing that everyone around you knew everything you had done the past few days. She wondered how many of them judged her or her actions. The thought made her ill. She did not understand why, it was not as if she had done anything wrong. The fact that she was one of the kids who had been abducted and sent to that horrible place seemed to be enough.
As Lyndi reached her locker, she noticed a set down from hers that had been decorated elaborately. They were the lockers of August Masbeth and Helena Van Garrett, two of the girls who had been killed on the island. Nodding to herself, Lyndi knew that she, too, would have to put a fairwell message on their lockers. Right next to her locker was the locker of the former Dahlia Riviera. The image of Dahlia's corpse, mangled and mutilated, came back to Lyndi's mind as she looked at the locker, noting the messages that had been placed on it.
We should not have to mourn the deaths of people our own age... not like this...
Somewhat distraught, Lyndi struggled to open her locker. After the third or fourth time to turn the combination lock, it finally came open with a creak. Her eyes traced along the interior of her locker. It seemed almost bare. What had she come here for? A stack of books sat in the locker, but Lyndi did not really feel like going to class. Instead, she glanced numbly at the pictures that had been plastered all over her locker. There were pictures of herself and Elsie, of course. Pictures of herself and other friends. Here and there were a few pictures of herself and a few people that had not made it off the island. Lyndi closed her eyes, feeling a tinge of pain in her chest. Those were people that she would never see again. She remained there, quietly gazing into her locker, not sure why she had opened it in the first place.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Megami. 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.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Startled, Madelaine looked about towards the newcomer who had just arrived on the roof, and surprised herself by chuckling softly at his light remark. She smiled faintly at him, recognizing him immediately.
"Good morning, Adam."
It didn't take long for her to remember that part of the reason, if not most, that she was alive right now was because of the schoolmate standing in front of her now. Though his comment had been light and humourous, Madelaine could tell that Adam was only being half-hearted about it. Like herself, Hawley, and everyone who had pulled through the ordeal alive, Adam had much to think about at the moment.
She sighed at Adam's inquiry and let out a wistful smile, one that was almost bitter in nature. Her eyes fell to the moccassins she wore, now scratched and stained with dirt. How was she doing, huh? Well let's see here...other than the events of the ordeal haunting her mind, the aftermath of the rape that heavily burdened her, and the painful fact that her family wouldn't look at her the same way anymore....
"I'm fine..." she said finally, in a low, quiet tone. She smiled at both of them, a smile that was less bitter this time.
It wasn't a complete lie...there was truth to it. She was fine now, because she was with people she trusted, people who were her friends. Along with a few other people, the three of them had somehow come together despite barely knowing one another, and pulled through this ordeal alive. In a game where trusting is the hardest thing to do, Madelaine trusted these two.
And no doubt it was what saved her life.
She sighed again, looking towards Adam with tired, weary eyes. "What about you? Doing well yourself?"
"Good morning, Adam."
It didn't take long for her to remember that part of the reason, if not most, that she was alive right now was because of the schoolmate standing in front of her now. Though his comment had been light and humourous, Madelaine could tell that Adam was only being half-hearted about it. Like herself, Hawley, and everyone who had pulled through the ordeal alive, Adam had much to think about at the moment.
She sighed at Adam's inquiry and let out a wistful smile, one that was almost bitter in nature. Her eyes fell to the moccassins she wore, now scratched and stained with dirt. How was she doing, huh? Well let's see here...other than the events of the ordeal haunting her mind, the aftermath of the rape that heavily burdened her, and the painful fact that her family wouldn't look at her the same way anymore....
"I'm fine..." she said finally, in a low, quiet tone. She smiled at both of them, a smile that was less bitter this time.
It wasn't a complete lie...there was truth to it. She was fine now, because she was with people she trusted, people who were her friends. Along with a few other people, the three of them had somehow come together despite barely knowing one another, and pulled through this ordeal alive. In a game where trusting is the hardest thing to do, Madelaine trusted these two.
And no doubt it was what saved her life.
She sighed again, looking towards Adam with tired, weary eyes. "What about you? Doing well yourself?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
"Isn't that the guy who survived twice?"
"Look at his hand, look at his hand!"
"Woah...he must be messed up..."
"He was a total pansy, straight up."
If there was one thing that Sydney wasn't prepared for, it were the hushed whispers, the stares of the people he passed by in the crowded halls, the lockers layered in messages from loved ones and friends, and the photographs of the deceased tacked on the walls.
I wonder if they did anything like this for me at Aberthol.
He stopped at a locker, decorated in pinks, reds, and purples. The notes, scribbled quickly in marker, all read practically the same thing:
"Sole survivor, Katherine Marks. We knew you'd make it home!"
So they had expected this girl to come home, huh?
The "In Memory Of..." photo proved that she hadn't lived past the island. She was apart of the dead mass of corpses out there, probably never to be identified by her family. She'd just get turned into ashes and thrown out to the wind, never to be seen from again. Or, Sydney shuddered, her corpse and all the other corpses could've been left on the island. It wasn't like anyone was going to be using the island, unless someone decided it would make a good tourist attraction. Sydney laughed into his bandaged hand at the thought of island tours, then made his way to the enrollment office.
"Excuse me, sir, where are your parents?" The woman at the front desk piped up as soon as Sydney Morvran entered. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of elegant shades, worn to hide her old age.
"I'd like to enroll, please."
"You cannot enroll without your parent, or guardian's per--"
"My friends died on the island. May I join the school now?"
That shut her up. She pointed to the computer behind her, motioning for Sydney to sit down at it. He followed her command, and then began to fill out the needed information. His name, his age, his grade, his gender, the names of his parents. . .
"I have to step out for a few. You'll be alright while I'm gone, yes?"
Syd nodded his head, hearing the light slam of the door. A door of oppurtunities at his fingertips... How long, exactly, had it been since he checked his school email account? Or, the internet in general? Stretching slightly, he minimized the enrollment window, and clicked on the fancy E icon. The homepage was a simple, generic search engine.
I might be playing with fire...
He typed his name into the box, and hit enter.
"Your search returned 1,600,000 results."
What?!
"1. SOTFworld: Sydney Morvran.
Sydney Morvran, Boys 13, was the survivor of the first..."
"2. Syd[Survivor]Morvran
Exclusive photos of Sydney's younger years, biography, friends, and MORE!"
"3. Hath Survived: Syd Slash Fanlisting
A collection of yaoi fanart and fanfiction all revolving Sydney Morvran."
Sydney's interest was piqued at the word yaoi. He had never seen the word before, and as such, didn't have a clue to what it meant. Puzzled, he clicked the link.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?!?!"
The top of the page had a large banner collage, full of pictures of Sydney in provactive poses, and even kissing a redhead boy. He knew the pictures were of him...the brown hair and green eyes told that much. All pretty much spitting images of him, carefully painted in water colors and other digital mediums.
He had seen death, gotten his fingers chopped off, and had caused people to die, but nothing would prepare him for what he clicked on next.
Is that... Oh God.
It was a full page spread of him naked with two other boys. The redhead from before, and a boy with two different colored eyes. Syd could hardly keep from throwing up at the sight of it.
...Stroking one another...
...Holding hands...
...Kissing! Innuendo!!
Deviant acts!!!
"Excuse me? What are you looking at?!"
Sydney jumped at the sound of the woman's voice. He whirled around quickly, grinning innocently. "I...I just looked up my name on the search engine. And look at what I found!" He laughed, his face turning as red as the hoodie he was wearing.
"...Okay. Well, your class roster is on the desk."
"Thanks, ma'am." He closed the window, quickly entered the rest of his enrollment information, then left, class roster in hand.
That was weird. Now, what's the first class... Room 203, Math with Mrs. Rogers. Ew. He strolled down the hall, ignoring all the eyes stuck on him. All he had to worry about now was getting to class on time. No more worries ever again.
"Look at his hand, look at his hand!"
"Woah...he must be messed up..."
"He was a total pansy, straight up."
If there was one thing that Sydney wasn't prepared for, it were the hushed whispers, the stares of the people he passed by in the crowded halls, the lockers layered in messages from loved ones and friends, and the photographs of the deceased tacked on the walls.
I wonder if they did anything like this for me at Aberthol.
He stopped at a locker, decorated in pinks, reds, and purples. The notes, scribbled quickly in marker, all read practically the same thing:
"Sole survivor, Katherine Marks. We knew you'd make it home!"
So they had expected this girl to come home, huh?
The "In Memory Of..." photo proved that she hadn't lived past the island. She was apart of the dead mass of corpses out there, probably never to be identified by her family. She'd just get turned into ashes and thrown out to the wind, never to be seen from again. Or, Sydney shuddered, her corpse and all the other corpses could've been left on the island. It wasn't like anyone was going to be using the island, unless someone decided it would make a good tourist attraction. Sydney laughed into his bandaged hand at the thought of island tours, then made his way to the enrollment office.
"Excuse me, sir, where are your parents?" The woman at the front desk piped up as soon as Sydney Morvran entered. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of elegant shades, worn to hide her old age.
"I'd like to enroll, please."
"You cannot enroll without your parent, or guardian's per--"
"My friends died on the island. May I join the school now?"
That shut her up. She pointed to the computer behind her, motioning for Sydney to sit down at it. He followed her command, and then began to fill out the needed information. His name, his age, his grade, his gender, the names of his parents. . .
"I have to step out for a few. You'll be alright while I'm gone, yes?"
Syd nodded his head, hearing the light slam of the door. A door of oppurtunities at his fingertips... How long, exactly, had it been since he checked his school email account? Or, the internet in general? Stretching slightly, he minimized the enrollment window, and clicked on the fancy E icon. The homepage was a simple, generic search engine.
I might be playing with fire...
He typed his name into the box, and hit enter.
"Your search returned 1,600,000 results."
What?!
"1. SOTFworld: Sydney Morvran.
Sydney Morvran, Boys 13, was the survivor of the first..."
"2. Syd[Survivor]Morvran
Exclusive photos of Sydney's younger years, biography, friends, and MORE!"
"3. Hath Survived: Syd Slash Fanlisting
A collection of yaoi fanart and fanfiction all revolving Sydney Morvran."
Sydney's interest was piqued at the word yaoi. He had never seen the word before, and as such, didn't have a clue to what it meant. Puzzled, he clicked the link.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?!?!"
The top of the page had a large banner collage, full of pictures of Sydney in provactive poses, and even kissing a redhead boy. He knew the pictures were of him...the brown hair and green eyes told that much. All pretty much spitting images of him, carefully painted in water colors and other digital mediums.
He had seen death, gotten his fingers chopped off, and had caused people to die, but nothing would prepare him for what he clicked on next.
Is that... Oh God.
It was a full page spread of him naked with two other boys. The redhead from before, and a boy with two different colored eyes. Syd could hardly keep from throwing up at the sight of it.
...Stroking one another...
...Holding hands...
...Kissing! Innuendo!!
Deviant acts!!!
"Excuse me? What are you looking at?!"
Sydney jumped at the sound of the woman's voice. He whirled around quickly, grinning innocently. "I...I just looked up my name on the search engine. And look at what I found!" He laughed, his face turning as red as the hoodie he was wearing.
"...Okay. Well, your class roster is on the desk."
"Thanks, ma'am." He closed the window, quickly entered the rest of his enrollment information, then left, class roster in hand.
That was weird. Now, what's the first class... Room 203, Math with Mrs. Rogers. Ew. He strolled down the hall, ignoring all the eyes stuck on him. All he had to worry about now was getting to class on time. No more worries ever again.
Founder of SOTF - 2005.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Sydney avatar by Kermit.
Taking a sip of his hot chocolate, Adam's eyes lazily gazed out towards the parking lot of the school below, and around to the houses that surrounded the school. Sighing a little, he looked back at Madelaine, his expression slightly haunted in nature, knowing full well that now was going to be one of the most difficult times in his life.
But if you can't depend on your friends, then who can you depend on...?
Looking at Madelaine's haunted, sad seeming eyes, Adam shrugged a little, and rubbed his hands together a little in the interests of keeping warm.
"I'm...well...I'm okay, I guess. I'm about as okay as anyone can be. This...this is all just so fucked, you know? I'm trying to go back to my daily life but the second I step back in the halls there's just this sense of people watching you, you keep hearing your name in hushed tones..."
Adam shook his head a little.
"...and that's the weird part. Literally everybody knows what happened, because they all watched it. All of them..."
He trailed off, not really able, at this point, to say more.
But if you can't depend on your friends, then who can you depend on...?
Looking at Madelaine's haunted, sad seeming eyes, Adam shrugged a little, and rubbed his hands together a little in the interests of keeping warm.
"I'm...well...I'm okay, I guess. I'm about as okay as anyone can be. This...this is all just so fucked, you know? I'm trying to go back to my daily life but the second I step back in the halls there's just this sense of people watching you, you keep hearing your name in hushed tones..."
Adam shook his head a little.
"...and that's the weird part. Literally everybody knows what happened, because they all watched it. All of them..."
He trailed off, not really able, at this point, to say more.
"Good morning Hawley."
He found himself blinking a bit as a familiar voice broke into his thoughts, causing the redhead to glance up from where he had been focused on the ground to look up at the familiar face of Madelaine. A small smile crossing his features, "Morning, Madelaine." Hawley muttered softly, glancing off after a moment.
"...nah, I'm fuckin' with you. How are...how're you guys holding up?"
His attention drifted back over when the door leading onto the top of the building slammed shut, and he found himself looking to the face of Adam Dodd. A person he had found to be able to call a friend, unknown to the other boy, Adam had been the main reason Hawley had become what he had on the island.
It was almost scary to think of what had happened if he had remained the type of person he had been at the start of the game...
Smiling a bit more he pushed himself onto his feet, using the back of the building he had been lying against as a support of sorts. "I've... been fine." He said lightly, trying to carefully find the right words to describe what has going on in his mind. Though fine was very far from the truth at that moment.
Hawley almost found himself sighing at Adam's statement about them being known for everything that happened on the island, he nodding a little. "Yeah... No one has wanted to come near me since, seems no one want's to be near someone who took four people's lives on that place. Even my own brothers were acting different around me, and when they called my parents to tell them the news. They didn't even want to talk to me. My own family is starting to shun me away again... even if I don't want it to happen again. School isn't any better, it's either people dodging or pushing me around..." He said lightly.
"But besides that, I've just been trying to be as normal as I can be. It hasn't been working out to well for me though..."
He found himself blinking a bit as a familiar voice broke into his thoughts, causing the redhead to glance up from where he had been focused on the ground to look up at the familiar face of Madelaine. A small smile crossing his features, "Morning, Madelaine." Hawley muttered softly, glancing off after a moment.
"...nah, I'm fuckin' with you. How are...how're you guys holding up?"
His attention drifted back over when the door leading onto the top of the building slammed shut, and he found himself looking to the face of Adam Dodd. A person he had found to be able to call a friend, unknown to the other boy, Adam had been the main reason Hawley had become what he had on the island.
It was almost scary to think of what had happened if he had remained the type of person he had been at the start of the game...
Smiling a bit more he pushed himself onto his feet, using the back of the building he had been lying against as a support of sorts. "I've... been fine." He said lightly, trying to carefully find the right words to describe what has going on in his mind. Though fine was very far from the truth at that moment.
Hawley almost found himself sighing at Adam's statement about them being known for everything that happened on the island, he nodding a little. "Yeah... No one has wanted to come near me since, seems no one want's to be near someone who took four people's lives on that place. Even my own brothers were acting different around me, and when they called my parents to tell them the news. They didn't even want to talk to me. My own family is starting to shun me away again... even if I don't want it to happen again. School isn't any better, it's either people dodging or pushing me around..." He said lightly.
"But besides that, I've just been trying to be as normal as I can be. It hasn't been working out to well for me though..."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler riserugu. 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.
-
LadyMakaze†
- Posts: 475
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 9:48 pm
Listening to both Hawley and Adam express their own troubles returning to the normal life they all once had before, Madelaine found herself silently nodding in agreement, a contemplative expression on her face.
It was just so hard…no matter how hard you tried to fit into familiarity, it was as though something had warped you through and through that there was no way to return to normality. Everything had changed…everything, and everyone. Madelaine knew as well as everyone else… even though they were saved, even though their nightmare was over, there would always be a part of them left behind on that island.
She sighed a bit, turning away from the two boys to stare in wistful silence towards the blurred cityscape.
“I have to visit a doctor and the counselor for a while from now on,” she murmured, folding her hands neatly behind the small of her back. “They want to make sure I get better, the right way. I wish they’d just leave me alone though. I got calls from some people or whatever, asking for interviews. We’ve had to disconnect all our phones…Dad threw away his cell.”
Madelaine turned back towards them and smiled sadly again. “The whole family thinks I’m cursed. Even Miriam is too afraid to come near me. I know they’re all trying to be nice to me…but just by looking at them, I can tell. They don’t know who I am anymore: their daughter, or someone else. …Because they all know….”
Yeah…they all know….
“Everyone knows…” she added, her voice trailing off, though not unexpectedly. Shivering slightly, she pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her frigid hands, holding them close against her chest to warm them. “It’s just so hard…trying to act like nothing’s happened, when the whispers behind your back and the looks people give you constantly remind you. People talk about you, think what they want, even though they don’t even know you at all.”
She found herself biting her lip, pausing unexpectedly. It surprised her…but somehow she realized that there was one thing good that came out of the ordeal, probably the only good thing. It was strange, almost unsettling to think that the island might have offered her anything wonderful, but…
“But….” She said quietly, shrugging a bit and smiling, looking at them in turn. “I made some new friends. And I think it saved my life. Because I wasn’t alone at all.”
Madelaine stretched her arms out, feeling oddly renewed. Perhaps…healing, wouldn’t be so hard after all.
“I want to see Amanda soon…I haven’t seen her since that time…”
It was just so hard…no matter how hard you tried to fit into familiarity, it was as though something had warped you through and through that there was no way to return to normality. Everything had changed…everything, and everyone. Madelaine knew as well as everyone else… even though they were saved, even though their nightmare was over, there would always be a part of them left behind on that island.
She sighed a bit, turning away from the two boys to stare in wistful silence towards the blurred cityscape.
“I have to visit a doctor and the counselor for a while from now on,” she murmured, folding her hands neatly behind the small of her back. “They want to make sure I get better, the right way. I wish they’d just leave me alone though. I got calls from some people or whatever, asking for interviews. We’ve had to disconnect all our phones…Dad threw away his cell.”
Madelaine turned back towards them and smiled sadly again. “The whole family thinks I’m cursed. Even Miriam is too afraid to come near me. I know they’re all trying to be nice to me…but just by looking at them, I can tell. They don’t know who I am anymore: their daughter, or someone else. …Because they all know….”
Yeah…they all know….
“Everyone knows…” she added, her voice trailing off, though not unexpectedly. Shivering slightly, she pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her frigid hands, holding them close against her chest to warm them. “It’s just so hard…trying to act like nothing’s happened, when the whispers behind your back and the looks people give you constantly remind you. People talk about you, think what they want, even though they don’t even know you at all.”
She found herself biting her lip, pausing unexpectedly. It surprised her…but somehow she realized that there was one thing good that came out of the ordeal, probably the only good thing. It was strange, almost unsettling to think that the island might have offered her anything wonderful, but…
“But….” She said quietly, shrugging a bit and smiling, looking at them in turn. “I made some new friends. And I think it saved my life. Because I wasn’t alone at all.”
Madelaine stretched her arms out, feeling oddly renewed. Perhaps…healing, wouldn’t be so hard after all.
“I want to see Amanda soon…I haven’t seen her since that time…”
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LadyMakaze. 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.
((H'okai. Let's say, Elise and Mallory (and maybe Cass) are alive, but t'other two are dead.))
Elise looked around the corridor somewhat nervously, hugging her books to her chest. She hadn't wanted to come to this school but circumstances had dictated she had no choice. Besides, it wasn't like there was anything back in England that she had to go back to, now that all her friends knew she had been on the island... although looking around at the halls, she wasn't sure if she was better off here, with a constant reminder of her time on the island.
She glanced down at the slip of paper telling her where her locker was. Feeling utterly lost, she looked around at the rest of the students who were loitering around. Not one face looked familiar to her, whether this was a good thing or not she was unsure. The only people she had met during her brief stint on the island were Hawley and his crew, Peri and Stevan, and she hadn't seen any of them yet.
Brushing her curly hair out of her face in an irritated manner, she stood in the middle of the corridor and looked at her paper, hoping the directions to her locker would be on there, screaming at her.
Perhaps this was one test that she was not going to pass.
Elise looked around the corridor somewhat nervously, hugging her books to her chest. She hadn't wanted to come to this school but circumstances had dictated she had no choice. Besides, it wasn't like there was anything back in England that she had to go back to, now that all her friends knew she had been on the island... although looking around at the halls, she wasn't sure if she was better off here, with a constant reminder of her time on the island.
She glanced down at the slip of paper telling her where her locker was. Feeling utterly lost, she looked around at the rest of the students who were loitering around. Not one face looked familiar to her, whether this was a good thing or not she was unsure. The only people she had met during her brief stint on the island were Hawley and his crew, Peri and Stevan, and she hadn't seen any of them yet.
Brushing her curly hair out of her face in an irritated manner, she stood in the middle of the corridor and looked at her paper, hoping the directions to her locker would be on there, screaming at her.
Perhaps this was one test that she was not going to pass.
I am an archival account used by staff to port old posts from handlers no longer active. If you are this handler, get in touch with staff and we can get your posts back for you! Elise avatar by Kermit.