[G045 - Ema Ryan] - Start
Ema Ryan. Physics-nerd, girl-gamer, archetypical geek and surprisingly lacking in common sense and spatial awareness. And in spite of all of these things, she could still be considered really rather intelligent and sharp. So that's why, as she came to - for the second time in quick succession - it didn't take her long to flit from "Okay where the hell am I!?" through "Wait, is this wood?" and on to the inevitable conclusion "Oh God, that auditorium was real."
Wishful thinking. That's what it had come down to at the time, as she'd sat there, drowsy from the considerable dose of sedative she'd inhaled, clearly measured for the largest person on the bus and not her puny frame, she'd not tried to struggle. She simply took in all that was happening with a sort of vague interest, happily assuming she'd fallen asleep on the bus and was experiencing a surprisingly lucid dream. A rather unimaginative dream, at that; the faces of the people she didn't know were covered, and the setting was lifted from that TV show she occasionally watched. All a terrible dream, she'd chosen to believe.
So, lying face-down on the moist wood of an aged and poorly maintained pier was quite a shock, but not really a surprise, given time to mull it over. The bus driver had been in league with that Danya guy, the weird black hat must have been a gasmask like in the big hall, and Ema herself was certainly not at the campground she'd anticipated.
"No time like the present.." Ema muttered to herself, and rose to a kneeling position, then stood, looking about to get an idea of her surroundings. 'If I'm supposed to survive here, better get my bearings..' she reasoned.
The area was quite unspectacular, just an old wooden dock, no buildings in sight, surrounded on one side by water (duh) and the other by swampland, the two bordered by a thin stretch of pale yellow sand. All in all, it looked like the perfect set for a horror movie finale... now that was a discomforting thought.
The only part that really interested Ema - causing her heart to quicken with hope for a few seconds - was the sailboat moored at the far end of her pier. But alas, even to layman's eyes, it was clear to see that the vessel wasn't even close to sailable, what with all the seawater weighing it down, and the reef piercing it's hull in a few places.
Eventually, the girl's eyes fell upon a small duffle bag, that had evaded her notice for the first few seconds by virtue of being small, on the floor, a fairly similar colour to the woodwork, and of course, Ema's own weak observation skills - besides, she was looking at the environment, not for stuff... that was her excuse and she was sticking to it.
The little of Survival of the Fittest that Ema had seen quickly told her that this bag was her "daypack", filled with some limited rations, first aid equipment and a random weapon of some kind. "Now," she caught herself hoping, unzipping the bag and rummaging through the essentials "As long as there's some kinda rifle or pistol in there that I can handle...", that wishful train of thought was quickly cut short as she finally closed her hand around the one out-of-place item within. Her response could likely be heard for quite some distance: "Okay, what the fuck am I meant to do with this!?". Yup, she'd been assigned a joke weapon, a useless piece of junk she couldn't even use for a non-combat purpose, a bit of Harry Potter merchandise - a replica time-turner, the sort of thing that can't even be used properly as an hourglass.
With the grim revelation "I am so bloody dead." ringing inside her mind, Ema wandered along to the very end of the pier, sat down with her legs dangling over the edge, and tried to think of some kind of plan, some possible way of surviving an island of desperate teenagers, all better armed and most more fit than she. "This," she said aloud, but under her breath, "Is going to take a fucking miracle."
The start of something truly absurd
Since nobody else is here...
The start of something truly absurd
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((G084: Eve Walker-Luther - Start))
Meanwhile, in a small apartment in St. Paul, one Jack Laws walked over to his child and picked her up.
"Here you go, dear... You want a drink? Mmm?"
The small baby almost gave a nod as Jack pulled up the bottle of milk, watching as the greedy guts sucked on it. Eve hadn't called back since the start of the trip. It was almost confusing, but he shrugged it off as her relaxing too much. And who wouldn't? He was starting to realise himself that this parenthood thing was hard. Giving a slight smile, he slowly rocked Octavia. But he wouldn't give it up for anything.
Then the phone rang.
Eve was awake for a while, but her brain refused to make her body move. The sound of waves rushed around her, in the ruined boat, a large wave eventually going over the side and splashing into her face. Wincing, she forced her frame up, giving a moan and crack as she looked around. The endless ocean called out to her.
All she could do was give a slow moan.
"...Jack?"
She span around slowly, noting the dufflebag. The island. She was on the island.
Her face turned into a sad, longing look. "Oh crap."
"NO! HOW THE HELL DID YOU LET THEM TAKE HER?"
Giving a scream of anger, he chucked the phone at the table, bouncing a few times before sliding to a stop. It wasn't possible, it couldn't have been. They didn't take her away. Not Eve. Not her.
Closing his wet eyes, he sat down on the couch, stroking Octavia's head and making sushing noises. Slowly, he glanced at the television.
SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
275 STUDENTS REMAINING
Squelching out of the reef, bag over her shoulder, she looked around. Nothing of intrest except for that pier. Shrugging, she walked slowly over to it, her seasoaked mind numb. Sent to kill each other. Last person standing wins.
Glancing further, she swallowed as someone in the distance screamed. It seemed they didn't like their weapon. To be perfectly honest, Eve didn't want to check what she got. It would be horrible to get something crap like a ball point pen, even worse to get a gun. Getting a gun registered you as a player. Someone to look out for. Someone that could kill.
Closing her eyes, she reached the start of the pier.
"Don't fire. I'm friendly."
Her voice was empty. Almost as if there was nothing living in it, no will. Slowly, she walked towards the woman at the end of the dock.
Meanwhile, in a small apartment in St. Paul, one Jack Laws walked over to his child and picked her up.
"Here you go, dear... You want a drink? Mmm?"
The small baby almost gave a nod as Jack pulled up the bottle of milk, watching as the greedy guts sucked on it. Eve hadn't called back since the start of the trip. It was almost confusing, but he shrugged it off as her relaxing too much. And who wouldn't? He was starting to realise himself that this parenthood thing was hard. Giving a slight smile, he slowly rocked Octavia. But he wouldn't give it up for anything.
Then the phone rang.
Eve was awake for a while, but her brain refused to make her body move. The sound of waves rushed around her, in the ruined boat, a large wave eventually going over the side and splashing into her face. Wincing, she forced her frame up, giving a moan and crack as she looked around. The endless ocean called out to her.
All she could do was give a slow moan.
"...Jack?"
She span around slowly, noting the dufflebag. The island. She was on the island.
Her face turned into a sad, longing look. "Oh crap."
"NO! HOW THE HELL DID YOU LET THEM TAKE HER?"
Giving a scream of anger, he chucked the phone at the table, bouncing a few times before sliding to a stop. It wasn't possible, it couldn't have been. They didn't take her away. Not Eve. Not her.
Closing his wet eyes, he sat down on the couch, stroking Octavia's head and making sushing noises. Slowly, he glanced at the television.
SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
275 STUDENTS REMAINING
Squelching out of the reef, bag over her shoulder, she looked around. Nothing of intrest except for that pier. Shrugging, she walked slowly over to it, her seasoaked mind numb. Sent to kill each other. Last person standing wins.
Glancing further, she swallowed as someone in the distance screamed. It seemed they didn't like their weapon. To be perfectly honest, Eve didn't want to check what she got. It would be horrible to get something crap like a ball point pen, even worse to get a gun. Getting a gun registered you as a player. Someone to look out for. Someone that could kill.
Closing her eyes, she reached the start of the pier.
"Don't fire. I'm friendly."
Her voice was empty. Almost as if there was nothing living in it, no will. Slowly, she walked towards the woman at the end of the dock.
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KingKamor†
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 5:43 am
(B094, Ridley Landon, Start)
He had always loved to sleep in, even when he wasn't asleep. This morning was not different, though he had a strange dream. Survival of the Fittest? Yeah, right. Like his shitty little school would have been chosen out of the entire fucking country. He was awake, but still beyond groggy. It was only when he tried to turn over and find his comforter that he felt the striking chill of water splash into his face.
With a start, Ridley shook his head and sat straight up, his ass planted halfway into a puddle of mud.
"What the FUCK?!" He shouted out, his thoughts going to how much his mother would kill him for getting his nice black button-up shirt so dirty. It wasn't long after he shouted that he noticed where he was: not where he thought he was, that's for sure. His eyes widened as they darted around, surveying the area, when he felt a bag with his hand to his left. The bag had been placed upon a dry fallen log, half of which was submerged in mud. So whoever brought him there had taken more care in the placement of a duffel bag than him? Not cool.
It only then dawned on him that the dream he had just had was real. With a quick slap to his own cheek-- and an adjustment to his dirty glasses-- he assured to himself, to his horror, that it was not a dream. Not one bit.
His stomach was suddenly replaced by a void as the fear began to creep in. He thought to himself, Duffel bag! Bags have that useful stuff in them, right? That announcer guy said so, so I should get what I got. His hands quivered violently as he knelt in the mud in front of the log, failing to grasp the zipper a couple times before he managed to get it open. Just as the creepy-sounding guy on the PA system said, there was a map, a compass, some crappy food and water, and-- "A gun...?" He whispered to himself. Something that can kill the baddies? No! That's wrong! They're all just kids like me! Despite his gripes, it was as if a wave of cold had surged through his body, freezing his limbs to the point where he was steadily able to reach down and pick the weapon out from the other items.
A strange sense of security engulfed Ridley as he stared at the firearm. A slight chill ran up his spine. One not too different from the ones he gets whenever he buys a new game. He was unsure how he felt about his own reaction, but stowed away his meditations for later. Another glance into the duffel revealed that they were even kind enough to provide an instruction manual for the weapon, but Ridley wasn't about to be grateful for his situation. Thinking again on the situation brought back the shakes from before.
He had only seen guns fire in History channel documentaries and video games, and he didn't even play that genre very often. Now he was expected to kill everyone whose faces he had seen every day for the past three or four years? Sure, there were the many unsavory folks in the class, but just because they picked on him did not mean that they deserved death. He just had to remember that the whole mess was NOT a video game.
His reading of "Gunslinger Girl," however, bestowed upon him at least one rule of gun etiquette: "The gun is always loaded, even when it isn't," and made sure not to point the gun towards himself as he carefully set it down on the log next to the bag. Just as he was about to crack the manual open-- always read the manual before playing a new game-- Wait, game?-- he heard a shout from behind him, beyond a few soggy moss-covered trees. As quick as he was able he took the gun, snatched one of the magazines from the bag and shoved it into the cavity at the bottom of the gun. Unless "Black" lied to me, I pull back the top part and--
Sh-chk. The top bullet slid into the barrel slightly louder than he had intended. Nonetheless, the sound was oddly satisfying. Satisfying enough to produce a split-second grin on his face beyond his control.
He zipped up the rest of the duffel and ducked behind a nearby tree, peaking in the direction of where the shout had originated from. Beyond the trees he was dumped in, he saw what looked like a beach with a sunken ship at a dock, plus two figures at the end of said dock. He wasn't able to determine what they were doing, and decided to stay where he was, gun in hand and double-checking that the safety was indeed off. The thought of having to pull the trigger shook him to the bone.
He had always loved to sleep in, even when he wasn't asleep. This morning was not different, though he had a strange dream. Survival of the Fittest? Yeah, right. Like his shitty little school would have been chosen out of the entire fucking country. He was awake, but still beyond groggy. It was only when he tried to turn over and find his comforter that he felt the striking chill of water splash into his face.
With a start, Ridley shook his head and sat straight up, his ass planted halfway into a puddle of mud.
"What the FUCK?!" He shouted out, his thoughts going to how much his mother would kill him for getting his nice black button-up shirt so dirty. It wasn't long after he shouted that he noticed where he was: not where he thought he was, that's for sure. His eyes widened as they darted around, surveying the area, when he felt a bag with his hand to his left. The bag had been placed upon a dry fallen log, half of which was submerged in mud. So whoever brought him there had taken more care in the placement of a duffel bag than him? Not cool.
It only then dawned on him that the dream he had just had was real. With a quick slap to his own cheek-- and an adjustment to his dirty glasses-- he assured to himself, to his horror, that it was not a dream. Not one bit.
His stomach was suddenly replaced by a void as the fear began to creep in. He thought to himself, Duffel bag! Bags have that useful stuff in them, right? That announcer guy said so, so I should get what I got. His hands quivered violently as he knelt in the mud in front of the log, failing to grasp the zipper a couple times before he managed to get it open. Just as the creepy-sounding guy on the PA system said, there was a map, a compass, some crappy food and water, and-- "A gun...?" He whispered to himself. Something that can kill the baddies? No! That's wrong! They're all just kids like me! Despite his gripes, it was as if a wave of cold had surged through his body, freezing his limbs to the point where he was steadily able to reach down and pick the weapon out from the other items.
A strange sense of security engulfed Ridley as he stared at the firearm. A slight chill ran up his spine. One not too different from the ones he gets whenever he buys a new game. He was unsure how he felt about his own reaction, but stowed away his meditations for later. Another glance into the duffel revealed that they were even kind enough to provide an instruction manual for the weapon, but Ridley wasn't about to be grateful for his situation. Thinking again on the situation brought back the shakes from before.
He had only seen guns fire in History channel documentaries and video games, and he didn't even play that genre very often. Now he was expected to kill everyone whose faces he had seen every day for the past three or four years? Sure, there were the many unsavory folks in the class, but just because they picked on him did not mean that they deserved death. He just had to remember that the whole mess was NOT a video game.
His reading of "Gunslinger Girl," however, bestowed upon him at least one rule of gun etiquette: "The gun is always loaded, even when it isn't," and made sure not to point the gun towards himself as he carefully set it down on the log next to the bag. Just as he was about to crack the manual open-- always read the manual before playing a new game-- Wait, game?-- he heard a shout from behind him, beyond a few soggy moss-covered trees. As quick as he was able he took the gun, snatched one of the magazines from the bag and shoved it into the cavity at the bottom of the gun. Unless "Black" lied to me, I pull back the top part and--
Sh-chk. The top bullet slid into the barrel slightly louder than he had intended. Nonetheless, the sound was oddly satisfying. Satisfying enough to produce a split-second grin on his face beyond his control.
He zipped up the rest of the duffel and ducked behind a nearby tree, peaking in the direction of where the shout had originated from. Beyond the trees he was dumped in, he saw what looked like a beach with a sunken ship at a dock, plus two figures at the end of said dock. He wasn't able to determine what they were doing, and decided to stay where he was, gun in hand and double-checking that the safety was indeed off. The thought of having to pull the trigger shook him to the bone.
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No sooner had the word "miracle." left Ema's mouth, did fortune decide to give her a small one. Free from an unchallengeable position or a free ticket home, but considerably better than a sneaky bastard killing her from behind, so all in all Ema felt quite grateful for the non-hostile, if a little unsettling, voice she heard.
"Don't fire. I'm friendly."
'Well halle-frickin-lujah." was the very first thing that went through the young girl's mind. She drew her legs back up onto the dock and climbed to her feet, careful not to let her legendary clumsiness turn into poor balance, as the shallow water certainly didn't look friendly, if it had done that sort of damage to a sailboat.
She turned around, her left hand hanging loosely at her side, whilst her right had taken hold of her daypack whilst getting up. The girl approaching her certainly looked friendly, a few inches taller than her, kind of sad-looking, and with an awesome blue streak in her hair. Ema was pretty sure she'd seen this person before, but couldn't quite figure out why, other than the obvious. So, assuming she could take Eve at her word, Ema decided to try and break the ice, maybe even put a smile on the other girl's face - there was something about that empty expression that unnerved her, and she'd seen more than a few killers in fiction that shared it. "So," she began, just about keeping a straight face as she asked an incredibly stupid question, "You come here often? Can't say it's the best resort, really." Ema let out a cautious laugh, hoping she hadn't accidentally made herself seem too calm in such a situation.
"Don't fire. I'm friendly."
'Well halle-frickin-lujah." was the very first thing that went through the young girl's mind. She drew her legs back up onto the dock and climbed to her feet, careful not to let her legendary clumsiness turn into poor balance, as the shallow water certainly didn't look friendly, if it had done that sort of damage to a sailboat.
She turned around, her left hand hanging loosely at her side, whilst her right had taken hold of her daypack whilst getting up. The girl approaching her certainly looked friendly, a few inches taller than her, kind of sad-looking, and with an awesome blue streak in her hair. Ema was pretty sure she'd seen this person before, but couldn't quite figure out why, other than the obvious. So, assuming she could take Eve at her word, Ema decided to try and break the ice, maybe even put a smile on the other girl's face - there was something about that empty expression that unnerved her, and she'd seen more than a few killers in fiction that shared it. "So," she began, just about keeping a straight face as she asked an incredibly stupid question, "You come here often? Can't say it's the best resort, really." Ema let out a cautious laugh, hoping she hadn't accidentally made herself seem too calm in such a situation.
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Eve breathed gently in and out as she walked to the end of the pier. The person at the other end stood up, as tall as a very short person could. Raising an eyebrow, she gave a sigh, thinking she might have got the gender wrong for once. The guy... or girl... whatever, the person was pale and freckled, a mane of fire around her face. The person's clothes left something to be desired though. It just made her look like another ordinary person, one very bland person you'd pass in the street.
"Nah. First time. Nothing like the ads on TV."
She tried to smile, but... she just didn't feel like it. With a vacant stare, she looked out into the deep blue sea, placing her bag onto the pier. "The name's Eve. Dancer, mother of one." Holding out her hand to the side, she went to shake.
Sh-chk.
Eve's ears screamed at her. Years of listening to music had made them sensitive, able to pick up the quietest bits in a song. In the middle of rushing waves and some birds chirping, a small sliding sound behind her said something very bad: another person.
Quietly as possible, she whispered to the other person.
"There's someone watching us."
"Nah. First time. Nothing like the ads on TV."
She tried to smile, but... she just didn't feel like it. With a vacant stare, she looked out into the deep blue sea, placing her bag onto the pier. "The name's Eve. Dancer, mother of one." Holding out her hand to the side, she went to shake.
Sh-chk.
Eve's ears screamed at her. Years of listening to music had made them sensitive, able to pick up the quietest bits in a song. In the middle of rushing waves and some birds chirping, a small sliding sound behind her said something very bad: another person.
Quietly as possible, she whispered to the other person.
"There's someone watching us."
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KingKamor†
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 5:43 am
Ridley made sure not to stick his head out from beyond his cover. In video games, if you're seen, you get shot in the head, and that wasn't on his list of things to do today. Then what am I going to do today? Do it to someone else? The very thought of it made him angry at himself. He had not ever considered himself one of those stupid Halo gamers who rant on and on about headshots and the stupid camper that killed him yesterday online. Character development and a good story was what made him come back, so he hardly ever played first person shooters to begin with.
Getting off topic! He shouted to himself, silently chastising himself for letting his thoughts wander.
" There's someone watching us."
If he hadn't snapped himself out of it, then he would never have heard one of the girls say that. He even had to spend a couple seconds deciphering what he had just barely heard. A swelling of anxiety rose within his chest as he held his breath and froze himself where he sat, his back against the tree between him and the girls.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. I still don't know if they're friendly. Can anyone be friendly on this island? If I walk out with a gun after hiding from them, what does that make me to them? I don't want to kill anyone, but I have this stupid fucking gun! If I put it away, they'll just ask me what my issued weapon was! FUCK!
Getting off topic! He shouted to himself, silently chastising himself for letting his thoughts wander.
" There's someone watching us."
If he hadn't snapped himself out of it, then he would never have heard one of the girls say that. He even had to spend a couple seconds deciphering what he had just barely heard. A swelling of anxiety rose within his chest as he held his breath and froze himself where he sat, his back against the tree between him and the girls.
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. I still don't know if they're friendly. Can anyone be friendly on this island? If I walk out with a gun after hiding from them, what does that make me to them? I don't want to kill anyone, but I have this stupid fucking gun! If I put it away, they'll just ask me what my issued weapon was! FUCK!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler KingKamor. 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.
"Nah. First time. Nothing like the ads on TV.". A positive response, and a smile... well, almost a smile, at least she'd tried to. Ema could hardly blame the girl, what with the situation they were in, and it was painfully evident that she herself would probably run out of optimism-adrenaline soon enough, and be in just the same vacant state - or worse.
"The name's Eve. Dancer, mother of one."
Ema was just about to reply with her own name, and try to come up with some profession that sounded remotely good, when she registered the last three words Eve had said. Mother of one. Mother. An amendment to that introduction was in order. "Ema Ryan, eh, geek. So, you're a mum... guess that means you don't have any excuse not to win this thing. What'd you get?". Ema gave a meaningful glance towards Eve's bag, hoping she'd drawn something that could defend the both of them, meanwhile extending her hand to accept the shake. "I got a cheap piece of cr--"
"There's someone watching us."
She froze, hand steady as the dead in mid-air. The dead, exactly what Ema had no intention of becoming, but the surprise had given her away. Stopping mid sentence, face ashen, amiable smile dropped in an instant; whoever was watching would know full well that they were detected. Lucky for her it was academic, then.
Ema's hand dropped, and for some reason, her eyes followed it's progress. For that lapse in concentration, she was rewarded with a glimpse of something hanging from the side of the pier - her own bag. But it was hardly a good time to be worrying about personal belongings, more a time for action and quick thinking. In a hoarse whisper, Ema noted "Alright mumsie, you'd better have something good...", and hoped against hope that the newcomer was friendly, and just as afraid of Eve and herself as they were of him.
"The name's Eve. Dancer, mother of one."
Ema was just about to reply with her own name, and try to come up with some profession that sounded remotely good, when she registered the last three words Eve had said. Mother of one. Mother. An amendment to that introduction was in order. "Ema Ryan, eh, geek. So, you're a mum... guess that means you don't have any excuse not to win this thing. What'd you get?". Ema gave a meaningful glance towards Eve's bag, hoping she'd drawn something that could defend the both of them, meanwhile extending her hand to accept the shake. "I got a cheap piece of cr--"
"There's someone watching us."
She froze, hand steady as the dead in mid-air. The dead, exactly what Ema had no intention of becoming, but the surprise had given her away. Stopping mid sentence, face ashen, amiable smile dropped in an instant; whoever was watching would know full well that they were detected. Lucky for her it was academic, then.
Ema's hand dropped, and for some reason, her eyes followed it's progress. For that lapse in concentration, she was rewarded with a glimpse of something hanging from the side of the pier - her own bag. But it was hardly a good time to be worrying about personal belongings, more a time for action and quick thinking. In a hoarse whisper, Ema noted "Alright mumsie, you'd better have something good...", and hoped against hope that the newcomer was friendly, and just as afraid of Eve and herself as they were of him.
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She raised an eyebrow, slightly flummoxed at what Ema was saying. Did she really have what it takes to play, kill innocent people in front of America? She wanted to get back to Octavia... but...
Survival of the Fittest. The strong will survive. The weak must die.
Closing her eyes, she swallowed as that tagline ran through her head. She had watched the show a few times, didn't really get into it that much. It was just another show, a mixture of Lost and Big Brother with some ultra-violence. And now she found out it was all real. Perfect. Just her horrible luck. Just when everything was going her way, Jack, Octavia, the apartment, dancing. She really was lucky.
She glanced at the bag. How lucky was she really? Eve knew how it worked. Everyone had even odds to get any weapon, the man said. What were her chances to get something that wasn't a joke? It seemed Ema had struck out with her weapon, so if the person behind was playing, it would be all up to her.
Girl Eighty Four, the dancer with a boyfriend and baby back home. Something to fight for, to live for, to come back home to.
"Well, now that you've given the surprise away, there's no need for the person to hide any longer."
Giving her features a slightly bored mask as she turned around, Eve gave a yell, brushing her blue streak out of her eye. "Your choice. Either we have a shoot-out right here, right now, or you come on out and we have a good calm chat. I'm open to an alliance."
Of course, she didn't have any kind of gun. She hadn't even opened the bag.
But the person hiding didn't know that.
Survival of the Fittest. The strong will survive. The weak must die.
Closing her eyes, she swallowed as that tagline ran through her head. She had watched the show a few times, didn't really get into it that much. It was just another show, a mixture of Lost and Big Brother with some ultra-violence. And now she found out it was all real. Perfect. Just her horrible luck. Just when everything was going her way, Jack, Octavia, the apartment, dancing. She really was lucky.
She glanced at the bag. How lucky was she really? Eve knew how it worked. Everyone had even odds to get any weapon, the man said. What were her chances to get something that wasn't a joke? It seemed Ema had struck out with her weapon, so if the person behind was playing, it would be all up to her.
Girl Eighty Four, the dancer with a boyfriend and baby back home. Something to fight for, to live for, to come back home to.
"Well, now that you've given the surprise away, there's no need for the person to hide any longer."
Giving her features a slightly bored mask as she turned around, Eve gave a yell, brushing her blue streak out of her eye. "Your choice. Either we have a shoot-out right here, right now, or you come on out and we have a good calm chat. I'm open to an alliance."
Of course, she didn't have any kind of gun. She hadn't even opened the bag.
But the person hiding didn't know that.
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KingKamor†
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 5:43 am
So she has a gun, then? He thinks to himself, shaking slightly in both fear and anticipation. The second emotion baffled him. Wait a second, calm down for a second. If they were playing, then they would have shot by now. No one playing would want a real alliance, right?
Ridley's brother was an avid viewer of Survival of the Fittest, so he knew the gist of what kinds of things went on in the "series." Some people played, others made alliances to stay alive longer. Only those playing did any real killing.
I know that I have a gun, so if worse comes to worst, I can take them.
The thought confused him a little, but he decided to take a chance. Holding his gun up with his fingers wrapped around the barrel instead of the handle, he waves it above the log so that they could see it being held in a non-hostile position.
"I'm coming out!" He calls in a shaky voice and heaves himself out of the moist tree stump on which he had been sitting on for the last several minutes. Keeping the gun raised and pointed into the sky, he raised his other hand as well in a show of peace, as it were. Once he was sure that they saw that he was willing to stop the fight before it began, he lowered the gun and stuffed the barrel into his deep cargo pants pocket. It made for a comfortable holster for the time being. Before he forgot, he took it back out and flipped the safety back on so that it wouldn't shoot him in the foot on accident. "Let's talk."
Ridley's brother was an avid viewer of Survival of the Fittest, so he knew the gist of what kinds of things went on in the "series." Some people played, others made alliances to stay alive longer. Only those playing did any real killing.
I know that I have a gun, so if worse comes to worst, I can take them.
The thought confused him a little, but he decided to take a chance. Holding his gun up with his fingers wrapped around the barrel instead of the handle, he waves it above the log so that they could see it being held in a non-hostile position.
"I'm coming out!" He calls in a shaky voice and heaves himself out of the moist tree stump on which he had been sitting on for the last several minutes. Keeping the gun raised and pointed into the sky, he raised his other hand as well in a show of peace, as it were. Once he was sure that they saw that he was willing to stop the fight before it began, he lowered the gun and stuffed the barrel into his deep cargo pants pocket. It made for a comfortable holster for the time being. Before he forgot, he took it back out and flipped the safety back on so that it wouldn't shoot him in the foot on accident. "Let's talk."
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"I'm coming out!"
Well score one for clever deception. Ema grinned, giving Eve an appreciative pat on the shoulder. The ruse had worked fine; neither of them knew what Eve actually had for a weapon, but at least the one that had been watching them was revealed. Ema let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of him, too. The boy may well have been armed with a gun, but he looked no more dangerous than she herself would - short-ish, average kinda build, and the most unthreatening face she'd seen in quite a while, complete with nervous expression and nerd glasses. All in all, Ema was actually surprised she couldn't recall his name, as he looked oddly familiar, and seemed like the sort she'd get on with, in normal circumstances.
"Let's talk."
Double score, he sounded just as unsure as Ema felt, so he was probably just as scared of her and Eve as she had been of him before. So talk Ema did. With a confident-looking smile and a small wave, she greeted the approaching young man.
"Hi! Don't worry, we're not dangerous either. I'm Ema, this is Eve. Wanna chill?"
Oddly enough, in her mind, Ema found herself wondering just why she hadn't lost her cool yet. Here she was, on an island she'd probably die on, in the company of a girl and a boy she'd just met, both of them probably armed, all three wearing collars that'd explode if they did something wrong. And yet she was coasting along on a feeling of comfortable optimism, with her gut telling her things would be fine, even as her mind pointed out the obvious. So as much as the girl realised she was probably doomed, she was quite easily capable of maintaining a calm, amiable air. Perhaps, had the circumstances of her awakening been different, if she'd been in dangerous company, she'd be feeling like she had for the few seconds between Eve hearing Ridley, and him coming into the open.
No, time enough to contemplate whether or not she should be terrified later on. For now, she was lucky, safer than she would've dared hope, and with what seemed like friendly company. So she'd stay smiling, and enjoy the feeling of security while it lasted. Because as her rational mind kept telling that blissful dreamer within her; it wouldn't last long.
Well score one for clever deception. Ema grinned, giving Eve an appreciative pat on the shoulder. The ruse had worked fine; neither of them knew what Eve actually had for a weapon, but at least the one that had been watching them was revealed. Ema let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of him, too. The boy may well have been armed with a gun, but he looked no more dangerous than she herself would - short-ish, average kinda build, and the most unthreatening face she'd seen in quite a while, complete with nervous expression and nerd glasses. All in all, Ema was actually surprised she couldn't recall his name, as he looked oddly familiar, and seemed like the sort she'd get on with, in normal circumstances.
"Let's talk."
Double score, he sounded just as unsure as Ema felt, so he was probably just as scared of her and Eve as she had been of him before. So talk Ema did. With a confident-looking smile and a small wave, she greeted the approaching young man.
"Hi! Don't worry, we're not dangerous either. I'm Ema, this is Eve. Wanna chill?"
Oddly enough, in her mind, Ema found herself wondering just why she hadn't lost her cool yet. Here she was, on an island she'd probably die on, in the company of a girl and a boy she'd just met, both of them probably armed, all three wearing collars that'd explode if they did something wrong. And yet she was coasting along on a feeling of comfortable optimism, with her gut telling her things would be fine, even as her mind pointed out the obvious. So as much as the girl realised she was probably doomed, she was quite easily capable of maintaining a calm, amiable air. Perhaps, had the circumstances of her awakening been different, if she'd been in dangerous company, she'd be feeling like she had for the few seconds between Eve hearing Ridley, and him coming into the open.
No, time enough to contemplate whether or not she should be terrified later on. For now, she was lucky, safer than she would've dared hope, and with what seemed like friendly company. So she'd stay smiling, and enjoy the feeling of security while it lasted. Because as her rational mind kept telling that blissful dreamer within her; it wouldn't last long.
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She examined the man coming out. Another usual teenager, bit of a nerd, really. With his hands up in the air, he walked towards them. Completely normal. Except for the gun in his hand, held the wrong way. It seemed that the gamble had paid off. Feeling the pat on the back, she tried to get her brain out of it's clunk and actually work.
"I guess you don't want to play."
Fuck playing. Fuck the rules.
Repeating those lines in her head, she glanced at the smile on Ema's face. Dangerous. They weren't dangerous. That was news to her. Doing something dangerous would be trying to attempt a backflip on the edge of a cliff. Or crossing the road. That was dangerous. People take calculated risks every day, trying to work out their chance of survival.
Wincing and giving a slight twitch, she looked at the man again.
"Let's talk. OK. What's your name, and why the fuck do you deserve to survive?"
Slightly unusual question. Eve didn't care.
"I guess you don't want to play."
Fuck playing. Fuck the rules.
Repeating those lines in her head, she glanced at the smile on Ema's face. Dangerous. They weren't dangerous. That was news to her. Doing something dangerous would be trying to attempt a backflip on the edge of a cliff. Or crossing the road. That was dangerous. People take calculated risks every day, trying to work out their chance of survival.
Wincing and giving a slight twitch, she looked at the man again.
"Let's talk. OK. What's your name, and why the fuck do you deserve to survive?"
Slightly unusual question. Eve didn't care.
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((Michelle O'Cain continued from We All Start Somewhere))
Cold, wet, annoyed, scared, angry, dirty and so many more adjectives could be use to describe Michelle at this moment. The girl was fustrated at best. Ever since she left team useless she had walk across the swamp at a slow paced. She had made sure to keep her head down and stay in a crouching state. Sure it made things longer but on a island where everyone was trying to kill themsleves she couldn't care less about her own agony. It's better to be in pain than dead right?
I should of just attack... I should of just attack...
Part of her was extremly angry at the fact so many individuals arrived at the same times as her to find Rizzo. Given the chance she would of killed Theo if it wasn't for OC.
She stop for a short rest and lay on her back. She went ahead again to cover herself in more mud and dirt to help her camoflage. She close her eyes for a minute and let herself rest. The swamps were an extremely unpleasent place to be. It was hard to travel through, and the open view would easily allowed anyone to shoot a target that was too stupid to keep it's head down. Like OC and Theo. God she was in a pissy mood. The whole situation she was in had really change her from quiet to grumpy and violent. It was because of the stress she'd figured. Stupid swamp.
She estimated that she had sat down about what she figured was about five minutes. With that she stood up again in the same crouching position she was in and kept movign foward. Only a short while later did she notice the swamp was getting less and less thick. She notice she was arriving to a less wet terrain. She was leaving the swamps! Finally she was able to relax in a less annoying terrain. She decided to take a risk at this point. If someone was nearby they would of shot her by now. So she stood up and started walking and then started to run. It felt nice letting her body go for once.
She kept running for a short while when she notice several figures in the distance. At this point she wasn't sure what to do. If they were playing like her they would obviously attack. Of course with a group of three it obviously meant they were probably friendly. Michelle wasn't sure if she shoudl approach them or not. It was the whole Rizzo scenario again.
This time she decided to watch instead of interact. She drop her blue bag and look for something to hide behind. Noticing a log she made a small dash for it and hide behind it. Hopefully being covered in dirt would help her hide. She threw herself on to the ground and watch the trio. Hopefully she wouldn't be notice either.
Cold, wet, annoyed, scared, angry, dirty and so many more adjectives could be use to describe Michelle at this moment. The girl was fustrated at best. Ever since she left team useless she had walk across the swamp at a slow paced. She had made sure to keep her head down and stay in a crouching state. Sure it made things longer but on a island where everyone was trying to kill themsleves she couldn't care less about her own agony. It's better to be in pain than dead right?
I should of just attack... I should of just attack...
Part of her was extremly angry at the fact so many individuals arrived at the same times as her to find Rizzo. Given the chance she would of killed Theo if it wasn't for OC.
She stop for a short rest and lay on her back. She went ahead again to cover herself in more mud and dirt to help her camoflage. She close her eyes for a minute and let herself rest. The swamps were an extremely unpleasent place to be. It was hard to travel through, and the open view would easily allowed anyone to shoot a target that was too stupid to keep it's head down. Like OC and Theo. God she was in a pissy mood. The whole situation she was in had really change her from quiet to grumpy and violent. It was because of the stress she'd figured. Stupid swamp.
She estimated that she had sat down about what she figured was about five minutes. With that she stood up again in the same crouching position she was in and kept movign foward. Only a short while later did she notice the swamp was getting less and less thick. She notice she was arriving to a less wet terrain. She was leaving the swamps! Finally she was able to relax in a less annoying terrain. She decided to take a risk at this point. If someone was nearby they would of shot her by now. So she stood up and started walking and then started to run. It felt nice letting her body go for once.
She kept running for a short while when she notice several figures in the distance. At this point she wasn't sure what to do. If they were playing like her they would obviously attack. Of course with a group of three it obviously meant they were probably friendly. Michelle wasn't sure if she shoudl approach them or not. It was the whole Rizzo scenario again.
This time she decided to watch instead of interact. She drop her blue bag and look for something to hide behind. Noticing a log she made a small dash for it and hide behind it. Hopefully being covered in dirt would help her hide. She threw herself on to the ground and watch the trio. Hopefully she wouldn't be notice either.
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KingKamor†
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Sun Sep 02, 2018 5:43 am
"Wanna chill?"
Ridley hadn't heard such beautiful words ever since he and everyone else were gassed on the bus. The thought of relaxation was a welcoming one, but his surroundings kept him in focus, if only just. He maintained a good ten or fifteen feet from the girls, not daring to get any closer in case they decide it a good idea to jump him. They both looked nice, but he wouldn't put it past anyone at that point.
"I'm okay. Relaxing is the last thing I want to do right now." He said in response to Ema. Her hair color surprised him a little, as did Eve's. He had always liked when girls had strange colored hair, and these two were right on the money in that regard. Focus, Rid! With a shake of his head, he listened to what Eve had to say.
"What's your name, and why the fuck do you deserve to survive?"
He finally recognized Eve as the famous teen mother from the school. He never thought too hard on her situation, usually keeping his thoughts to himself whenever she was brought up in conversation, but he understood that she had more to lose in this game than he did. "My name's Ridley. Or Rid, or whatever you want to call me. At this point, we're all just walking targets. Why should I survive, though? Because I don't want to die, that's why." He paused. "Heh. I guess that already puts the three of us at odds, doesn't it?"
He managed to crack a smile. A small one, but it was still a smile. Wiping some of the drying mud off of his pants, he took the time to look at the girls' bags. Ema's didn't look too full or clunky, so it didn't have anything big in it. Eve's on the other hand, looked like it had something bigger than normal stuffed into it.
"Okay, you two know what I have for a weapon, so what do you two have? If either of you are useful, then I'll stick around." A little too blunt, but it wasn't as if Eve was one to talk.
For a moment, he thought that he heard something fall with a thud behind him, but a glance in that direction told him that nobody was there. Nobody that he could see, anyway.
Ridley hadn't heard such beautiful words ever since he and everyone else were gassed on the bus. The thought of relaxation was a welcoming one, but his surroundings kept him in focus, if only just. He maintained a good ten or fifteen feet from the girls, not daring to get any closer in case they decide it a good idea to jump him. They both looked nice, but he wouldn't put it past anyone at that point.
"I'm okay. Relaxing is the last thing I want to do right now." He said in response to Ema. Her hair color surprised him a little, as did Eve's. He had always liked when girls had strange colored hair, and these two were right on the money in that regard. Focus, Rid! With a shake of his head, he listened to what Eve had to say.
"What's your name, and why the fuck do you deserve to survive?"
He finally recognized Eve as the famous teen mother from the school. He never thought too hard on her situation, usually keeping his thoughts to himself whenever she was brought up in conversation, but he understood that she had more to lose in this game than he did. "My name's Ridley. Or Rid, or whatever you want to call me. At this point, we're all just walking targets. Why should I survive, though? Because I don't want to die, that's why." He paused. "Heh. I guess that already puts the three of us at odds, doesn't it?"
He managed to crack a smile. A small one, but it was still a smile. Wiping some of the drying mud off of his pants, he took the time to look at the girls' bags. Ema's didn't look too full or clunky, so it didn't have anything big in it. Eve's on the other hand, looked like it had something bigger than normal stuffed into it.
"Okay, you two know what I have for a weapon, so what do you two have? If either of you are useful, then I'll stick around." A little too blunt, but it wasn't as if Eve was one to talk.
For a moment, he thought that he heard something fall with a thud behind him, but a glance in that direction told him that nobody was there. Nobody that he could see, anyway.
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Ridley looked unsure. Ema could hardly blame him. For the last however long she'd been awake, the rational part of her had been wondering just why the hell she herself wasn't quaking in her metaphorical boots. Oh well, it was a conundrum for another time.
"I'm okay. Relaxing is the last thing I want to do right now."
She'd thought as much. "Yeah, can't say I didn't see that coming, what with all the imminent death. I kinda scare me, to be honest." An odd response, to be sure, but it hardly mattered. And yet, in the moments before Eve spoke up, she could've sworn despair wasn't the only thing on the boy's mind, in fact... was he checking the two of them out? Well, it was probably his last chance.
"What's your name, and why the fuck do you deserve to survive?"
"My name's Ridley. Or Rid, or whatever you want to call me. At this point, we're all just walking targets. Why should I survive, though? Because I don't want to die, that's why." He paused. "Heh. I guess that already puts the three of us at odds, doesn't it?"
Yeah, back to seriousness. So he was called Ridley. Sounded familiar, just like he looked familiar, but Ema still wasn't sure why. Meanwhile, he seemed to be assessing their state of arms. He'd clearly realised she had nothing visible, and probably that Eve was bluffing about having a gun. But instead of calling her out, he was more interested - understandably - in what they did have.
"Okay, you two know what I have for a weapon, so what do you two have? If either of you are useful, then I'll stick around."
Ema was just about to reply, but Ridley got that unsure expression again, and looked behind him. She craned her neck to take a look too. She saw nothing, but asked anyway, "Someone back there, Rid?", already using the nickname he'd offered. Whether it was her stupid optimistic side trying to be friendly, or her horribly paranoid one hoping to make Ridley himself friendly, it was hard to say. Maybe both. Either way, engendering goodwill was in the interests of both points of view.
"I'm okay. Relaxing is the last thing I want to do right now."
She'd thought as much. "Yeah, can't say I didn't see that coming, what with all the imminent death. I kinda scare me, to be honest." An odd response, to be sure, but it hardly mattered. And yet, in the moments before Eve spoke up, she could've sworn despair wasn't the only thing on the boy's mind, in fact... was he checking the two of them out? Well, it was probably his last chance.
"What's your name, and why the fuck do you deserve to survive?"
"My name's Ridley. Or Rid, or whatever you want to call me. At this point, we're all just walking targets. Why should I survive, though? Because I don't want to die, that's why." He paused. "Heh. I guess that already puts the three of us at odds, doesn't it?"
Yeah, back to seriousness. So he was called Ridley. Sounded familiar, just like he looked familiar, but Ema still wasn't sure why. Meanwhile, he seemed to be assessing their state of arms. He'd clearly realised she had nothing visible, and probably that Eve was bluffing about having a gun. But instead of calling her out, he was more interested - understandably - in what they did have.
"Okay, you two know what I have for a weapon, so what do you two have? If either of you are useful, then I'll stick around."
Ema was just about to reply, but Ridley got that unsure expression again, and looked behind him. She craned her neck to take a look too. She saw nothing, but asked anyway, "Someone back there, Rid?", already using the nickname he'd offered. Whether it was her stupid optimistic side trying to be friendly, or her horribly paranoid one hoping to make Ridley himself friendly, it was hard to say. Maybe both. Either way, engendering goodwill was in the interests of both points of view.
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...wait, was he checking them out?
Resisting the urge to laugh, Eve nodded at his answer. Ridley, Rid. Riddles. He didn't seem too bad. If anything, he seemed to be pretty sharp. Asking for weapons was good. Although Eve didn't want to open her bag and check. It was long, that was for sure-
Eve's ears twitched as she looked behind Ridley. The pier gave a creak. Brown. Lots of green and brown. But for a second there was motion. Combined with the footsteps...
"Looks like we've found our next contestant on 'The Price is Right.'"
She gave a glance at the new kid, dropping her voice down to a whisper. "You weren't followed, were you?" Slowly she started to bend down to the bag's zip. Just in case. She wasn't going to use whatever it was. Only for defence. Defend against anyone who wanted to take her away from her family. That was fair, right? With a quick nod at the bag, Eve gave a mutter at herself. "Here goes nothing." In one clean motion she opened it up, her mind reeling.
A sword.
She got a heavy fucking curved sword.
Picking it up slowly by the handle, Eve gave an insane laugh.
"Well, that was anti-climatic. Why don't we invite our new guest?"
Resisting the urge to laugh, Eve nodded at his answer. Ridley, Rid. Riddles. He didn't seem too bad. If anything, he seemed to be pretty sharp. Asking for weapons was good. Although Eve didn't want to open her bag and check. It was long, that was for sure-
Eve's ears twitched as she looked behind Ridley. The pier gave a creak. Brown. Lots of green and brown. But for a second there was motion. Combined with the footsteps...
"Looks like we've found our next contestant on 'The Price is Right.'"
She gave a glance at the new kid, dropping her voice down to a whisper. "You weren't followed, were you?" Slowly she started to bend down to the bag's zip. Just in case. She wasn't going to use whatever it was. Only for defence. Defend against anyone who wanted to take her away from her family. That was fair, right? With a quick nod at the bag, Eve gave a mutter at herself. "Here goes nothing." In one clean motion she opened it up, her mind reeling.
A sword.
She got a heavy fucking curved sword.
Picking it up slowly by the handle, Eve gave an insane laugh.
"Well, that was anti-climatic. Why don't we invite our new guest?"
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