Well, time to move on, I suppose. James finished his ration bar and put the wrapper back in his bag. It was weird, really. Here he was on Nowhere Island with a high likelihood of getting killed, yet he still wouldn't litter the ground. He zipped up his bag and grabbed the Clue box from the floor, stifling a yawn with one hand. Some part of him wanted to call Ian back; convince him and the others to stay here and wait for Venice to return.
But he didn't. He couldn't. He didn't want to cause a fuss or create an argument with the others. Venice had wandered off and Ian had left their little camp, and now Kathryn was leaving. That would leave him with Amy, waiting.
"I guess we're leaving then," James said, stating the obvious. Do something, do something... James began to take rapid breaths. On one hand he wanted to go with someone, maybe find some friends and team up, but on the other some part of him wished to remain here. James was well aware that he'd likely suffer from a panic attack if he didn't choose quickly. He took one last look at Amy, a worried look on his face. He wanted to tell her that Venice probably wouldn't come back, and that coming with him would be better. He didn't. Instead, James sighed and began to trudge up the path after Kathryn. She'd been the first person he'd met on the island and had a gun, at least. Plus, maybe this time I can make her laugh at my bad puns...
"Hey, wait up! I'm coming with you!"
((James Wade continued in The Usual Suspects))
Dead End
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler LordB. 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.
So everybody was leaving, huh? Well, that fucking sucked in every possible way. Amy couldn't blame them; it was the obvious, smart choice. They couldn't stay down here for the rest of their days. Sooner or later, one of them would go stir crazy, unless the danger zones got to them first. And Amy really didn't want to stay too near the ocean, especially when it was as choppy as it was now. She was half tempted to follow the others, especially Kathryn, follow them to safety and the future.
But she couldn't just abandon Venice like that. Not after everything the girl had done for her. What kind of friend, what kind of person even, would she be if she let Venice return to nothing but her bags and an empty beach?
So Amy sat on her rock and continued to brush her hair, offering a spirited "Good luck!" to James' retreating figure. It sounded like he and Kathryn weren't going to return any time soon. Amy wished Kathryn at least had stayed. A friendly figure to talk to would have been amazing right now. At least Ian had kinda implied he'd be returning, at some point.
Amy sat there, brushing her hair, wincing every time the brush caught on the knots, staring out towards the horizon, towards home, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
How much of the day had passed, Amy had no idea. The one thing she did know was that she was seriously, seriously worried right now. She was still the only person on the beach. She'd walked up and down it several times, to try and stave of boredom and to try and see if anyone was coming. There'd been no-one. Ian hadn't returned. More importantly, neither had Venice.
The girl wasn't dead, that much Amy was certain of. At least, if the announcement that had played earlier was to be trusted, and what reason would they have for lying? Venice hadn't been killed, and she hadn't killed anyone either. Not that the announcement had been a ray of hope, not in the slightest. Five of her classmates had killed. Eight of them had died.
Amy hadn't known any of them particularly well. She'd had classes with them, walked by them, most likely talked and laughed with them on brief occasions. And now, those brief interactions were all she'd ever get.
If Amy was feeling so shitty about their deaths, she could hardly imagine what their close friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, family, were feeling.
Amy hadn't cried. It had taken all of her willpower not to, and she was sure a few rogue tears had managed to escape. But she had to stay strong, or at least appear it, and show everybody that the game hadn't gotten to her. There'd be plenty of time for crying later, when all was said and done.
She hadn't been able to keep that strong facade entirely, however. She'd mumbled a few words, not even sure who exactly she was talking to.
"I'm so sorry, all of you. You deserved so much better than this."
Another tear had fallen. Then it had been back to the waiting game, one eye on Venice's bags, one on the clifftop. Food had been eaten. Time had passed.
No-one was fucking appearing. Venice was nowhere in sight. Amy stood up, ran her hand through her hair, which was as smooth as she could possibly get it. No doubt it'd be going back to a tangly pile of shit in the near future. It hardly mattered now, though, not when her friend was out there somewhere, and Amy had no idea what had happened to her. She had to find Venice. She didn't know how, didn't know where the girl was, but she'd manage it, somehow. Just like she'd manage to escape. Somehow. There was always a way, even if she couldn't see it immediately.
Amy slung Venice's belongings over her shoulder, grunting thanks to the added weight. It was times like these that Amy wished she was just a little stronger, a little more physically capable. Not that a little thing like lack of strength was gonna stop her. Slowly, Amy made her way back up the cliff path, in search of Venice.
Where this would take her, she had no idea.
((Amy Bachelor continued in Hollow Stars))
But she couldn't just abandon Venice like that. Not after everything the girl had done for her. What kind of friend, what kind of person even, would she be if she let Venice return to nothing but her bags and an empty beach?
So Amy sat on her rock and continued to brush her hair, offering a spirited "Good luck!" to James' retreating figure. It sounded like he and Kathryn weren't going to return any time soon. Amy wished Kathryn at least had stayed. A friendly figure to talk to would have been amazing right now. At least Ian had kinda implied he'd be returning, at some point.
Amy sat there, brushing her hair, wincing every time the brush caught on the knots, staring out towards the horizon, towards home, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
How much of the day had passed, Amy had no idea. The one thing she did know was that she was seriously, seriously worried right now. She was still the only person on the beach. She'd walked up and down it several times, to try and stave of boredom and to try and see if anyone was coming. There'd been no-one. Ian hadn't returned. More importantly, neither had Venice.
The girl wasn't dead, that much Amy was certain of. At least, if the announcement that had played earlier was to be trusted, and what reason would they have for lying? Venice hadn't been killed, and she hadn't killed anyone either. Not that the announcement had been a ray of hope, not in the slightest. Five of her classmates had killed. Eight of them had died.
Amy hadn't known any of them particularly well. She'd had classes with them, walked by them, most likely talked and laughed with them on brief occasions. And now, those brief interactions were all she'd ever get.
If Amy was feeling so shitty about their deaths, she could hardly imagine what their close friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, family, were feeling.
Amy hadn't cried. It had taken all of her willpower not to, and she was sure a few rogue tears had managed to escape. But she had to stay strong, or at least appear it, and show everybody that the game hadn't gotten to her. There'd be plenty of time for crying later, when all was said and done.
She hadn't been able to keep that strong facade entirely, however. She'd mumbled a few words, not even sure who exactly she was talking to.
"I'm so sorry, all of you. You deserved so much better than this."
Another tear had fallen. Then it had been back to the waiting game, one eye on Venice's bags, one on the clifftop. Food had been eaten. Time had passed.
No-one was fucking appearing. Venice was nowhere in sight. Amy stood up, ran her hand through her hair, which was as smooth as she could possibly get it. No doubt it'd be going back to a tangly pile of shit in the near future. It hardly mattered now, though, not when her friend was out there somewhere, and Amy had no idea what had happened to her. She had to find Venice. She didn't know how, didn't know where the girl was, but she'd manage it, somehow. Just like she'd manage to escape. Somehow. There was always a way, even if she couldn't see it immediately.
Amy slung Venice's belongings over her shoulder, grunting thanks to the added weight. It was times like these that Amy wished she was just a little stronger, a little more physically capable. Not that a little thing like lack of strength was gonna stop her. Slowly, Amy made her way back up the cliff path, in search of Venice.
Where this would take her, she had no idea.
((Amy Bachelor continued in Hollow Stars))
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
-
chitoryu12†
- Posts: 96
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:07 am
((Clayton Leven continued from Allow Me To Begin))
There was nothing in his mind.
No thoughts.
No dreams.
No worries.
No fears.
No hopes.
beep beep beep beep beep
He walked steadily across the threshold.
All was done.
He couldn't do it.
beep beep beep beep beep beep
Two dead in front of him.
No way out.
All was lost.
beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
He was weak. Physically and mentally.
Nobody to say goodbye to.
Nobody cared about him.
Nobody knew his name.
He just knew himself.
And that was all that he needed.
BOOM
B050 - Clayton Leven: Deceased
There was nothing in his mind.
No thoughts.
No dreams.
No worries.
No fears.
No hopes.
beep beep beep beep beep
He walked steadily across the threshold.
All was done.
He couldn't do it.
beep beep beep beep beep beep
Two dead in front of him.
No way out.
All was lost.
beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
He was weak. Physically and mentally.
Nobody to say goodbye to.
Nobody cared about him.
Nobody knew his name.
He just knew himself.
And that was all that he needed.
BOOM
B050 - Clayton Leven: Deceased
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler chitoryu12. 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.